HUNTIM
RECOLLECTIONS.

BY
MISS TAWKE,

BULLWOOD HALL, HOCKLEY,

ROCHFORD :
FRANCIS AND SONS, PRINTERS AND STATIONERS.
I9II.

MISS TAWKE.

PREFACE.

In giving my Hunting Recollections, I
must beg for the kind indulgence of my readers,
and remind them this is my first literary venture
— and a very difficult fence I have found it to
negotiate. When starting, I intended to give
a few hunting anecdotes only, but instead of " a
sharp, short burst," I find I have dropped into a
regular, long, slow hunting run with several
checks, and if my readers, after getting to the
close of this book, care to continue the run, I
propose to get on the line as soon as possible ;
and in our next we shall arrive nearer to the
present time.

Before closing the Introduction, I must tell
my friends to what the proceeds of the book
will be devoted. Some five or six years ago I
was instrumental in starting a Home for persons
who, for some cause, find it impossible to
obtain work ; and, after remaining in the Home
for a certain time, and proving themselves
entitled to a recommendation, situations are
obtained for them. As far as the people are
concerned, the result has more than met our
expectations ; and, though the inmates of the
Home are employed in laundry work, for
various reasons we can never hope to make it
self-supporting. Any benefit derived from
" Hunting Recollections " will go to reduce the
debt.

HISTORY OF THE ESSEX UNION
HOUNDS.

The first mention of the Hunt was in 1822,
when Lord Petre hunted the country. The
Kennels were at Thorndon, with temporary
Kennels at the Griffin Inn, Danbury for con-
venience of the outlying district. WiUiam
Evans being huntsman in 1824, when he was
succeeded by Hort In 1832 Lord Petre
migrated to the Puckeridge country, taking
Hort as hustsman and remaining Master of the
Puckeridge for three seasons, and during this
period the Essex Union was carried on by
Messrs. Brewett and Nash, both of whom lived
at Rayleigh, and had the Kennels there for two
seasons. I find they were subsequently moved
to Crow's Heath, a farm belonging to Mr.
Brewitt, at Downham. Mr. Tom Brewitt lived
at Down Hall, Mr. Nash at South Benfleet :
Meshach Cornwall being huntsman. (There are
people of this name still living at Rayleigh —
doubtless his descendants.) In 1836 Lord Petre
resumed Mastership of the Union country,
havng purchased the hounds from Mr. Tom
Brewitt. Joe Roots was his huntsman, until he
gave up in 1839.

For these three seasons Mr. Kemble
hunted his own harriers at Runwell, namely
from 1836 to 1839.

6 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

In 1839 Mr. John Payne (Jun.) was Master
and Will Cross huntsman, until the retirement
of the former in 1848.

We find in 1839 Mr. John Payne, Jun.,
kept the hounds. He was an ancestor of John
Payne, of Southminster, and lived at Maldon.

In 1848 Tom W^ard, in conjunction with
Mr. Scratton, became Master. He was brother
of George Gepp Ward, of Heybridge Mill, also
of Mrs. Townsend. By permission of Mr.
Oxley Parker he lived at the Nursery Farm,
Woodham Mortimer. Mr. James Parker, who
became Master in 1854, was a great uncle of
Mr. Christopher Parker, of Faulkbourne Hall.

In 1848 Alfred Causton hunted the South
Essex with Joe Bailey as whip, and he com-
bined the duties of kennel, huntsman, stud
groom (there was no other), gardener and
general factotum to Mr. Causton.

In a letter, dated December 7th, 1867,
written by Mr. Daniel Robert Scratton to Mr.
Oxley Parker, he says : " Payne gave up in
April", 1848."

Ward and myself succeeded him. The
huntsman was Jem Morgan. I gave up April,

1853-

The Kennels were at the Hyde, Danbury.

Ward then went on from x\pril, 1851, till
his death, Christmas 1852, and I finished the
season till April, 1853.

Thomas Lay W^ard lived at Woodham
Mortimer, next the Grange.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 7

James Parker was Master till April, 1854
(with Will Cross as huntsman, Joe Torrell
whip), at which time I resumed the Mastership,
and have kept them ever since.

Mr. Scratton retired April, 1869.

SOUTH ESSEX HOUNDS.

In 1848 Mr. Alfred Causton, a yeoman
farmer, was Master and hunting the hounds
himself. The Kennels were at Mr. Arthur
Button's, Walton Hall Farm, Mucking. Whip,
Joe Bailey. In 1857 Mr. Arthur Button
became Master of the South Essex Hounds.
He took the name of Cox on the death of his
uncle, Captain Cox, of Harewood Hall,
Upminster. Button Cox I have always heard
was a thorough sportsman, but a jealous rider to
hounds, latterly he w^as a martyr to rheumatism.
When I remember him he was bent almost
double ; but even then he would ride to hounds,
being driven in his cart until the run began,
when he was put on his horse, and would go as
well as ever. He managed to break his arm,
which he flung up when jumping a fence, and
this accident ultimately caused his death.

Button Cox was succeeded by Sir Thomas
Lennard in i860. The Kennels were at
Belhus, Ransom was huntsman, Joe Bailey
whip.

Colonel Kemble tells me he remembers
going out with them on one occasion when at
home for his holidays.

8 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

We must return to the Essex Union
Hounds.

The Kennels were at the Hyde, Danbury.
Whether Mr. Scratton took the horn himself is
an open question. Will Cross hunted them one
season, and it seems likely that Mr. Scratton
began to hunt them in 1855: First Whip,
John Bann, second whip, Will Cross (Jun.).
Colonel Kemble says : " I know John Bann
hunted them during the Christmas holidays of
1856-7, when Mr. Scratton was laid up with
congestion of the lungs." The Kennels had
then been moved to Prittlewell Priory.

Charles Shepherd came as huntsman ist
May, 1857. Hagger was first whip.

Mr. Scratton hunted the two countries in
the spring of 1861, and this hunt has ever since
been known as the Essex Union.

Shepherd left 30th April 1862; was suc-
ceeded by Nimrod Long ; first whip, Joe Bailey.

Nimrod Long left 30th April, 1864.

Harry Rees was huntsman from April,
1864, till April 30th, 1869. Afterwards he
remained on when Mr. John Offin took the
Hounds, 1869 till 1873, with Joe Bailey as first
whip.

From 1873 till Mr. Offin's death in 1875
Bentley was huntsman.

In 1875 Hunting commenced September 7th.
Master, Captain W. H. White. Whips, Joe Bailey,
Joe Sorrell.

1876 Capt. White. Whips, Joe Bailey, W. Grayson.

1877 Capt. White. Whips, Joe Bailey, R. Wright.

1878 Capt. White. Whips, Joe Bailey, James Crook.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 9

1879 Capt. White. Whips, Richard Yeo, James

Sorrell.

1880. Capt. Carnegy. Whip, George Rae.

1 891. Commander Kemble. Huntsman, George Rae.

1894 Mr. Ashton. Huntsman, Goddard.

1895 Col. Hornby. Huntsman, Goddard.
1898. Mr. Helme. Huntsman, A. Thatcher.
1899 Mr. Mashiter. Huntsman, A. Thatcher.
1900. Mr. Mashiter. Huntsman, George Tongue.

1909. Mr. Raymond Courage, Mr. Hexton. Hunts-

man, George Tongue.

1910. Capt. Heseltine.

For the following lines I am indebted to Miss
Augusta Bryant : —

A FOXCHASE WITH THE LATE LORD PETRE.

Awake my muse and chant the lays
Of good old Smiler's sporting days,
When I was young and she was strong,
And we could go the whole day long.
Thorndon her nobles from far did bring,
And her foxhounds made the welkin ring,
When Smiler could skim the brooks and fields
And the meet was fixed for Langdon Hills.
At Northlands Reynard before us stood.
And led us a chase to Rawreth Wood ;
But as through the bushes he did glide,
Old Benedict caught him by the side
And held him down upon the ground
Till half the pack did him surround ;
They pain'd him sore, and stopp'd his breath,
For Mercy sent a friend — 'twas Death.
Then from his rump his brush Joe took.
And gave the cheering death Who-whoop.
Then trotting homeward, — I don't say all —
Were joking with those who had a fall.
For many that day were forced to bow
As the cut down banks oft brought them low.
The sun w^as setting ; that lovely day,
Like earthly pleasures, soon passed away ;
Each face was smiling, none wore a frown,

lo HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

His lordship was pleased, he gave me a crown.

Now Smiler was praised, by man and woman;

She leaped gate and pit at Laindon Common —

She did them well, upon my word,

And brought smiles and praise from Thorndon's lord,

For he said her like could not be found,

Although you searched the country round.

And more than that, I can tell you what,

Thirteen miles an hour she oft did trot.

And many a large one she defied ;

Though broken-kneed and single-eyed.

She'd deep ribs, short legs, and full of fire;

And I never knew poor Smiler tire —

She was so good in every pace.

Whether on the road or in the chase.

But hold, my muse, cease rhyme and punning,

For Cross has stopped my Smiler's running;

Yes, Death, that everlasting spoiler.

Has robbed me of my good old Smiler.

But though she's dead and out of sight.

Her fame shall live, my favourite ;

Long may her deeds in memory last,

Although her sporting days are past;

And as we tread around life's ball.

Let's know that Death will stop us all.

F.B.

MR. OFFIN.

For the account of the great run which took
place in the Union Country, 1856, I am
indebted to my old friend, Mr. Offin. I have
heard him tell the story so often that I almost
feel as if I had been there myself. It seems to
have been the usual practice at the end of the
season to invite a pack of harriers, kept by
one named Fred Preston, to have a day in
what is now the Union. By all accounts it
must have been the longest hunt that ever

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. ii

was known in the district. Mr. Lucas, of
Basildon, entertained the Field to luncheon, and
shortly afterwards a deer was enlarged just
below Grays Hill, taking a line through
Ramsden Bellhouse to Wickford (when one
remembers that in those days there was no
railway, no poultry farms, and no wire to inter-
fere, what a country that must have been to ride
over). Leaving Wickford on the right, over
the brook to Runwell, straight away by Retten-
don on to Woodham, there he turned, and
returning over Hyde Hall to Rettendon, on
through Hanningfield, by Crows Heath, to
Ramsden Heath. North of Forty Acres he
turned southwards to Mepes Hole. On again
past Grays Ghurch, Great Burstead Ghurch,
Little Burstead, over Bottledown Hill, through
Blind Lane Shaw — by this time the field was
uncommonly select — on and on he goes. Two
wheat stacks nearly brought the run to a close.
The Park was his point, and away once more
over Heron Pond, Lapwater Hall, Ingrave
Hall, the Dairy Farm, by Hangman's Lane, and
into Thorndon Park by Lion Lodge, Warley
Gap. Mr. Offin was the only one left, and still
this never-ending run seems as though it will
never finish. A race between the horse and the
deer, I expect there was not much pace left
in either, but the game is not up yet. Back by
the Dairy Farm into the Park, out by the
" Spotted Dog," Herongate, into the fence they
floundered, but the struggle was not over, and
once again the deer made an effort to escape,
and the next thing that occurred was Mr. Offin,

12 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

his horse and the deer all rolling in a heap
together. After a run of three hours and twenty
minutes the deer was secured and taken into a
shed, but I regret to have to add, he only lived
a very short time, after his brilHant performance.
Of the other two actors, neither of them were
any the worse. Mr. Offin walked his gallant
horse all the way from Herongate to Down
Hall, Rayleigh. History does not state what
became of the hounds or the rest of the Field,
but we may be pretty sure there were many
aching hearts that night. One man must have
been thoroughly satisfied with himself and his
horse. The latter, he said, he bought of Lord
Petre, and he was such an excellent performer,
he did not object to jumping single hay-cocks.
In any case, he did the work of three that day,
and no doubt he rests in peace — where all good
horses go.

Measured on the map this run covered
twenty-three miles, and the way they went it
must have been fully thirty-three miles.

I have to thank Mr. Tom Ofhn for the
accounts of the following runs. They had a
good spin (date not known), but supposed to be
somewhere about 1852 or 1853, when a straight
necked fox was found in Sir Thomas Lennard's
coverts at Belhouse, and away they went
straight across to Puddledock (many good
runs I have had from the covert before
that abomination in the shape of wire was
thought of, and the land in possession of
a people who neither care for nor understand

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 13

the pleasures of the chase). The run pro-
ceeded by Dunton, over Bottledown Hill to
Heyden Grove and Blounts Wall, crossing the
Billericay road by Gooseberry Green to Mill
Hill (Here again there is a complete town laid
out and streets named — not much more in the
road-making Hne, except the name, but quite
enough to interfere with the comfort of the field
— I only wish one could put the clock back a
bit, and show our hunting friends of to-day what
sort of country ours was twenty years or so ago).
But on went man and horse, without a check,
to the further side of Mill Hill. Hounds
were working their fox through the wood ; the
next thing that happened was, the fox jumped
into the ditch near to where Mr. Offin was
waiting. Without a moment's pause the latter
was off his horse, and into the ditch he went.
At this moment the hounds came out of the
covert, and man and hounds and fox were all
struggling together. The fox had no chance,
and it was a proud moment for Mr. Offin (then
a youth of seventeen). After breaking up his
fox, and with head and brush on his saddle, he
started off to find the rest of the field. That Mr.
Offin escaped without being bitten by the
hounds, is a circumstance which is very
remarkable.

Three men, Cobb, Stunt, and Lake, were in
the habit of crossing from Kent every Tuesday
and Saturday to hunt with the Union — and rare
good men they were, and took some beating too.
There was at that time a fox in Norsey Wood
(unlike the foxes of to-day) he used to break

14 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

without a moment's delay, and, greatly to the
satisfaction of the three men of Kent, he always
ran the same line, which ended at Purfleet
Chalk Pits, where they lost him — until one day
when there was a burning scent, away went
Mr. Fox, as usual over Bulphan. Here hounds
threw up, but Mr. Offin was on his tracks,
and came upon the " gentleman," his loud
holloa brought the hounds, and so ended the
Norsey fox, who had taken the three men of
Kent home with very little inconvenience to
themselves.

In 1854 a brace of foxes were afoot in
x\rnolds, the pack divided, and Mr. Ofhn tells
the tale of how he went away with half the
hounds and killed his fox on Kelvedon Common
having run him into a wood-stack, which he
pulled down, and when he got to the last layer,
there he saw his "friend," but his subsequent ex-
perience was unique, he came up with the other
half of the pack and saw them kill their fox three
miles beyond Ongar.

Mr. Offin always says he never rode horses
up to his weight ; but they were well-bred ones,
and he liked a free goer. Once he was mounted
on a horse called "Freemason" when they found
in the Plantations, Hadleigh ; and, running in a
north-easterly direction, Mr. Offin jumped the
brook below Eastwood Lodge. To those who
know the place, I need not describe what a
bold man and horse is required to take on the
job, and I cannot remember having seen anyone
tackle it in that spot. After crossing the brook,
they went straight through the Bull Woods and

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 15

killed on Hull Bridge Marshes.

Mr. Offin had a horse named " Don," bred
from a mare, belonging to Sir Charles Smith,
the sire was the property of Frank Barker,
winner of twenty-eight steeplechases. Don took
some riding. One day, when hounds were run-
ning hard, he jumped smack into the river west
of Battlesbridge. It was a toss up if either man
or horse would land in safety. Both scrambled
up the bank unharmed (to the initiated the
feat will be appreciated. Two or three times
I have managed to cross the river, and very
horrid it was. One must have a thoroughly
confidential animal. To negotiate it he slides
down on his tail and crawls up the opposite
bank on his stomach. To-day, thanks to
Colonel Kemble, we have the good causeway,
which he had made, and a very great comfort
it is, and we never fail to thank him in our hearts
when the necessity arises to cross the river).

Another of Mr. Offin's runs will I give you.
The find was in Roper's Shaw, and after taking
four rings round Laindon Hills, Mr. Offin
having jumped the Stanford brook, came upon
his fox quietly sitting in a furrow. Our gallant
sportsman galloped alongside of the fox up to
the high road ; there he roared to some men to
stop him, but without effect, so on they flew, till
they reached the Rookery (where Mr. Asplin
lived). Hounds had frequently thrown up in the
same place before (doubtless there was a conve-

i6 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

nient drain, known of amongst foxes), but Mr.
Offin was determined, if possible, to catch the
one in front of him that day, and, as luck came
in his way, a maid servant was standing at the
door to see the hunt, so he shouted to her to
prevent the fugitive from turning into the wel-
come shelter of the yard, with the result that
he was headed, jumped the opposite fence, ran
for two fields and was rolled over. Yet one
more of Mr. Offin's exploits I must tell you of.
A fox came out of Gusted Hall Wood and went
away across the big pasture at the back of the
Lawn, making for Potash Wood. Said Mr.
Offin to Mr. Kemble, " Shall I catch him before
he gets to the covert ? " and he galloped away,
caught the fox between his horse's fore legs
and up went the fox high into the air.

MR. SCRATTON

was born October 2nd, 1819, and he lived with
his parents at Milton Hall (which is now a large
Roman Catholic Institution for the reception of
destitute persons). Mr. Scratton was the only
son, he had two sisters, both of whom died un-
married. Educated at home and at Exeter
College, Oxford, on the death of his father,
John Baynton Scratton, Mr. Daniel Robert
succeeded to the property, including Milton
Hall, Prittlewell Priory, and several other
estates around Southend which was at that
time a watering place much patronised by the
select county families and even by Royalty.
Princess Charlotte spent a great deal of time
there, and I have often heard my grandmother

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 17

say how, as a girl, she used to go and stay on
the Royal Terrace — and Southend never lost
its charm for her. A long and valuable stretch
of foreshore belonged to Mr. Scratton, and he
employed men and boys to gather oysters and
winkles for the London markets. He was an
experienced agriculturalist, and took a keen
interest in public affairs.

J. P. for the County, D.L., and Chairman
of the Board of Guardians, a first-rate coachman,
for some time he ran the ordinary passenger
coach (himself not unfrequently driving) be-
tween London and Southend, afterwards when
the Great Eastern Railway came as far as
Brentwood, the passengers were landed at the
Station to continue their journey by rail to
London. On the resignation of Mr. James
Parker Mr. Scratton bought the hounds,
built the kennels at the Priory, and in 1861,
when Sir Thomas Leonard retired from the
Mastership of South Essex Hounds, he united
the two countries, and they have remained so
since that time. Tradition says the country
reaches from White Chapel Church to Brad-
well-on-Sea. The only lines of railway, were
the Great Eastern, which ran by Chelmsford,
and the London and Tilbury, going along the
marshes to Southend (No need then for railway
keys, or even for Mr. Russell to jump his
gallant grey in and out of the railway fence —
over a good five feet of timber).

Mr. Scratton had a hound van which at one
time was the property of Mr. Assheton Smith,
and when the meets were wide, with four horses

i8 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

in the van, he used to convey the hounds to the
fixture. Essex was considered one of the best
scenting plough countries, and I maintain that
we were better off when the land was kept in
a high state of cultivation, than as it is to-day
with a great deal more pasture, and straggling
fences.

For nineteen years Mr. Scratton's reign
lasted and then, to the surprise and regret of
everyone, he sold the hounds. Yet more
was to follow — he parted with most of
his Essex property, bought an estate and
settled in Devonshire. His departure caused
a gap which has never been filled — but every
cloud has a silver lining, and so it is in this case,
and quite recently one of the clan has purchased
the Priory, and, better still, come to live there,
and I don't think I am far wrong in saying the
cloak of Daniel Robert has certainly fallen on
one member of the family.

I am indebted to Commander Kemble for
many of the foregoing details. There is one
well known story that Mr. Scratton used to tell
against himself, and that was, when he went into
a shop to buy some horse rugs — the man took
him for the groom and offered him a commission-
which he quietly put in his pocket — his personal
appearance, as I remember him, might well lead
one into the mistake.

I give the account of a run which took
place many years ago. For years past the
Lawn had been a favourite fixture, and the
foxes used to fly in all directions. I well
remember (says Mr. Jackson, to whom I am

MR. DANIEL ROBERT SCRATTON. M.B\H.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 19

indebted for the particulars) upon one occasion
we found in the adjoining wood, called Potash,
and raced our fox by Cherry Tree Farm, West
Barrow Hall, Rochford Hall, to ground at our
Rector's, got him out ; then drew Hockley Bull-
wood, out by Hawkwell Common, past Clements
Hall, for Trinity Wood, out of which we raced
him for Fambridge Marshes, on for Norpits and
Rapits Farm and Cricksea, to Loftman's, and
killed him by moonlight on Clements Marshes.
The following lines are contributed by
Miss Augusta Bryant : —

THE LANGDON MEET.

All hail to Lang-don, whose ancient hills

The mind of a sportsman with ardour fills ;

Where clarion's heard from neighb'ring cocks

Are wont to tempt the prowling fox ;

Where Peer and Cit with the country squires,

To the name of sportsman each aspires ;

Where the well-bred hunter and genuine hack,

Oft come to meet that unrivalled Pack.

Yes, Priory's Pack with joy we hail

Thy tuneful notes over hill and dale.

Now the Lady Pack's here so smart and prim,

Reece and Joe Bayley will keep them in trim;

As soon as in covert they'll snuff up the gale,

And little Miss Comfort will soon tell the tale —

For Comfort and Bentinck are most in their glory,

Tho' strange it may seem, when there's truth in their

story.
They're a couple so rare, their deeds run so high —
This I've been informed, that they ne'er told a lie.
But, hark to the find, for Reece winds his horn,
Bold Reynard must pace o'er the newly-drilled corn,
He'll soon break from covert, he'll find he can't stay.
There's the glad sound — away, gone away, gone away !
See under the hedgerow, how swiftly he goes,
As instinct has taught him to hide from his foes ;
He's hard pressed behind, beset all around;

20 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

The earths are all stopp'd, and he can't go to ground,

Ploughmen so heedless stop his forward track,

And thus poor old Reynard is oft driven back;

While chattering jays on fluttering wing

Glad tidings to all of his whereabouts bring,

With hounds on his hne, and all in full cry.

The open again — once more he must try.

Hasty and Crafty will prove it all whim,

They are too hasty and crafty for him.

Again, then, he breaks, and now goes away,

And see how he strides across the grass ley,

With the hounds at his brush, pursuing amain.

While echoing woodlands prolong the refrain.

How anxious the field, how fiery each steed ;

Famous for fencing as well as for speed,

There's our worthy Master, the Prittlewell Squire,

Who to keep all things right is his sole desire.

With his cap all awry, his sportsmanlike seat,

His breeches and boots inexpressibly neat ;

He's mounted right well — he has a good Chance,

If his hounds get a run his horse sure will advance.

There's A. Z. Cox on his fam'd chestnut Charley,

Who ne'er at a fence will stop to hold parley;

There's one from the City who keeps a straight line,

Tho' riding a Shadow or famous Sunshine;

T. K. 's a keen sportsman, altho' he dispenses

In a trifling degree with some of his fences ;

He sticks to the hardways, as tho' he forebodes

A view at old sharpnose while crossing the roads.

When E. T. can get out he goes well on his grey —

May he from the gout be e'er distant a day.

There's one that goes well on the flea-bitten grey,

Who always has Courage to go the right way ;

A friend sometimes with him— not always, of course,

And when he does come he can Marshall his horse.

But my pen from my hand hapily might fall

If I should attempt at the placing them all.

There's Cottons and Saunders, and others as good

As e'er crossed a fallow or rode through a wood :

Joe on young Braxted, Reece on grey Hitchin,

Whose fingers for Reynard so often are itching —

Now hark to halloa, they're at him again.

Not long above ground can he now remain.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 21

For his lugs and his brush are beginning- to droop,
Soon the Welkin will ring with the Huntsman's Whoo

Whoop.
Now he shortens his strides, to death he'll soon yield —
See, Daphne and Dian's pull'd him down in the field,
They'll soon break him up and his bones they'll soon

crush,
While some are awaiting his beautiful brush.
Now he dies, without murmur or sign sent to Heaven,
As his crimes are forgotten, may our sins be forgiven;
Now the death scene is over their thoughts they'll soon

smother,
In drawing fresh coverts in hopes of another.

FREDK. BRYANT.

Miss Bryant says — •

" A few lines of my late sister's have just
come into my head which she composed on my
winning the high jump of over seven feet at the
Agricultural Hall, Islington: —

Fearless and bold, she yet her steed restrains,
And guides, with firm light hand upon the reins;
O'er hedge and brook she goes with flying leaps,
But safe possession of her saddle keeps ;
Patient and calm, but should her horse refuse
To take the leaps, she then her whip can use.
And urge him on amid the deafening cheers
Bursting alike from commoners and peers.

" I won this high jump on a horse I had
never seen before."

RUN WITH THE ESSEX UNION,

December 19th, 1866.

Met at Wickford Castle, trotted on to
Kemble's Gorse, found and went away over the

22 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

Hills, leaving Rettendon Place on the left,
down to Battles Bridge Creek, on to the right
over Wickford Bridge to the Church, to the
right to Nevendon over to Archer's Farm, to
Crays Hill, down the Hills to Meeps Hole,
Norsey and Forty Acres, Great Blunts to
Bridges, Thurston Hall, Mole Hill Common,
Margaretting, Killigrews, through Hylands
Park, Widford Hall, Writtle oil Mills, through
Mr. Porter's plantations, then to Mr. Christy's,
at Broomfield Hall. Blew hounds off when in
full cry, with horses tired. Time, three hours
forty-five minutes.

Miss A. C. Bryant rode a three-year-old
colt from start to finish.

Both horses and riders were hospitably
entertained by the then T. D. Ridley, Esq., of
The Elms.

Joe Bailey was riding " John Brown,"
which had to be left at Mr. Turner's, Baddow
House, for the night. Reece was on " Raley.'*
The Master, Mr. Scratton, on " Lincoln."

I am indebted to Miss Augusta Bryant for
the above.

CAPTAIN WHITE.

Captain White began his reign in the
Essex Union Country in 1875, and resigned
1880. He hunted the Essex and East Essex,
and only gave up that county in 1876. He was
therefore for one season hunting both packs,
and doing the work of two men. I always say,

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 23

on looking back to those days, they were by no
means the least enjoyable times with the Essex
Union ; horses were not of the best, neither
tvere the hounds, but to Captain White bad
borses made no difference ; he was one of the
finest horsemen I ever met with, and I believe
he could have ridden a hurdle across country ;
brutes no one else would have dreamt of tack-
ling behaved as angels in his perfect hands.
One of his sayings was, " Give me my own spurs
and another man's horse," but when he was
sailing over a country on " Tommy Dodd," or
his favourite little grey, it was a sight worth
going a mile or two to see. He used to go from
covert to covert at a tremendous pace, and on a
bad scenting day he would call out " If we can't
hunt a fox you shall hunt me." He made no
secret of the fact of the hounds keeping kim.

I shall always feel grateful to Captain
White for many a hint as to the best and
shortest way of riding to hounds, and his
lessons I have never forgotten. One was,
always to keep down wind of hounds, and
another thing, it was a great advantage to me
to be allowed when hounds ran to follow him,
the understanding between us being, that if I
rolled into a ditch, one of the hunt servants
would set me straight. Captain White had a
selection of the choicest language one is often
privileged to hear. One day he was a bit put
out with the second whip : he ended up a whole
string of abuse with " I wish you were dead,
and it would give me the greatest pleasure to
go to your funeral."

^4 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

On Saturday, April nth, 1880, there wag
a good day from the Bull Wood, Hockley,
running a fox for two hours, through the Had-
leigh coverts, back to Bull Wood, and lost
Found again in Merrylands and after running
lost him just below Rayleigh. I got a letter |
was away in Leicestershire at the time) from thq
Master, in which he says: " You will be pleased
to hear we have had three really good days.j
Tuesday, you know ; Wednesday, a famous run
and kill in the open. Yesterday, one hour and
upwards with our second fox, and from scent tq
view and roll over in the open, making twO
brace in three days, and a good run with each of
them. To-morrow at Danbury, Wednesday
Hadleigh, to close the season, and a meet each
day after that at twelve in Rotten Row." In
another letter he goes on to say: "A hunt
meeting took place at Chelmsford, when it was
made known that Captain Carnegy would hunt
the County next season." On April 30th he
wrote again, " Captain Carnegy is coming to
stay with me at the end of next week, and if you
have not already deserted the Lawn for Hyde
Park, I was thinking I would drive him round
one day and show him your country. Could
you manage to ask a few of your Rochford
neighbours to drop in, so that Captain Carnegy
could be introduced to them?"

After a season's rest, Captain White took
the East Kent country, but I do not think he
kept it more than one season. His health had
begun to fail before he left us. We were
riding to a meet and we passed Mr. Coope.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

25

Captain White remarked, " What would that
man give to have my health and strength," and
from that time till his death Captain White was
never well. He suffered terribly with his liver.
It only shows how dangerous it is to boast.

One day he had the misfortune to fall into
a marsh ditch in the Bradwell country, and he
said he was obliged to stand on his head on a
gate post to let the water drain out of his boots,
and his clothes had to hang on the line for a
month airing, and even after that it was weeks
before they lost the terrible perfume of the
marsh ditch. Tradition has it this was the last
place where the waters subsided after the Flood
— some say they have never subsided even to
this day.

On the days when he was hunting in the
Rochford country he often managed to leave off
near The Lawn. He knew he would always
find a hearty welcome. One evening, after
thoroughly enjoying a repast of Irish stew, he
got on to a " hireling," which early in the day
bolted with me. " Now," he said, " You can
run away with me all the way to Billericay if
you like." (With his usual kindness he had
noticed my uncomfortable position, and let me
ride his second horse, a most perfect hunter
called "All-Fours," and which he afterwards
sold to Miss Helme.)

I cannot do better than close my account
with giving a few extracts from the excellent
report of " Dandy White," taken from Bailey^s,
1910: —

" In the days when the first gentleman of

26 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

Europe sat weightily on the throne of England,
Mr. ^A/'illiam Inman White, son of a Yorkshire
Squire, emigrated south, and made what turned
out to be a most judicious purchase, of a
property, known as Ribsmore, at Cheshunt, in
Hertfordshire, and there, on June 15th, 1829,
was born his eldest son, William Henry White,
the subject of this brief memoir. As became
his Yorkshire origin, Mr. Vv^illiam Inman White
was a lover of the horse, and the taste was
transmitted to his sons, the eldest of whom was
known to the end of his life as " Billy." After
a private education, he entered the Militia, and
obtained a captaincy in the 3rd Lancashire
Regiment. Though lacking none of the quali-
fications of a good officer, he was ambitious of
command in the hunting field rather than on the
Parade Ground, and in later life he preferred
not to assume his military title. His oppor-
tunity came in 1857, when, in his twenty-eighth
year, he accepted an invitation to take the
Mastership of the Stag Hounds established at
the fashionable Spa at Cheltenham, immor-
talised by Surtees (as some beUeve) under the
name of Handley Cross. The pack was pat-
ronized by Lord Fitzharding, but that famous
sportsman's career had come to a close, for, after
maintaining his foxhounds in princely style for
half a century, he had been incapacitated by a
fall in the hunting field. Early in September
the ex-Captain took up his quarters in Chelten-
ham at the Queen's Hotel, bringing with him,
as he records in his hunting diary, his chestnut
horse " Colonel," and two greyhounds. On the

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

27

day after his arrival he bought another hunter
for twenty-five sovereigns, borrowed a third, and
engaged a huntsman and whipper-in. Next
day he tells how he rode over the first wall he
ever jumped. The opening Meet, postponed
in consequence of the death of Lord Fitz-
harding, took place at Andoversford on October
20th, in the presence of a field of 150 riders.
It was not without some misgivings that the new
Master gave the word to enlarge. However, a
run of two hours was obtained. But it was as
a fox hunter in the Eastern Counties Dandy
White was destined chiefly to distinguish him-
self. He only remained with the Cheltonians
for one season, and then came eastwards to
assume control of a pack of Foxhounds which
during the previous half century had hunted a
district at first confined to the borders of Essex
and Suffolk, but extended before the close of
that period northward to the centre of the latter
county. The summons upon which he came
out of the West was due to the retirement of
Mr. Carrington-Quinn, a wealthy banker of
Manningtree, by whom it is said the Hunt had
been originally founded.

The new Master took up his abode at
Stratford House, and the pack was kennelled
at Stratford St. Mary. For the first two seasons
professional huntsmen were engaged, the
Master's first experience of hunting the hounds
himself being gained on December 4th, i860.
In consequence of an accident to his huntsman
in 1865 he handed over the country to Mr.
Nunn, nephew of the late Mr. Carrington Nunn.

28 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

Then came a break of four years, after which he
resumed office as Master of the East Essex
Hounds on the resignation of Mr. Humphrey
R. G. Marriott, of Abbots Hall, Stratford, by
whom, and his father before him, the county
had been hunted for two years. During the
first five seasons of this Mastership, 1869-74,
the hounds were always hunted by the Master,
and were out three days in the week. From the
sixth season, 1874- 1875 onward, the number of
days was five days a fortnight, but the Master's
task, instead of being lessened, was soon gravely
increased, for, on the resignation in 1875 of
Lord Petre's tenant and friend, Mr. Thomas
William Offin, Mr. White, whilst continuing in
office with the East Essex, undertook in addi-
tion to hunt Mr. Offin's country, which, having
in earlier days been divided between two packs
of hounds, has since Captain White's succession
been known as the Essex Union Hunt. The
Kennels of the two packs, one near Braintree
and the other near Billericay, were not far short
of twenty miles apart. Mr. White achieved the
task of hunting the entire county for four
seasons.

In 1880 he gave up the reins of office to
Captain Carnegy, of Lour. The retiring
Master was now in his fiftieth year, and after
one season with the East Kent he retired into
private hfe in 1882, though his love of sport
continued to the end of the chapter. On March
15th, 1909, he wrote in a letter, "My work is
done." Two months later, within a month of
his eightieth birthday. Old Billy went to ground

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 29

with the parting words, " I have seen many a
fox die and they ahvays die mute. I am not
going to throw my tongue because my time has
come."

He was a grand specimen of a sportsman
and a gentleman.

On March 30th, 1881, a party of us went
to Champion Lodge Steeplechases. Had the
pleasure of seeing Captain White win on
Tommy Dodd.

I enjoyed many of the following runs, but
my knowledge of the country was so slight, and
my education far from complete as to names of
coverts, for many of the accounts I have been
obliged to rely on cuttings from The Field, or
to the assistance of old friends.

Saturday, November 2yth, iSy^.

Meet: Stock Street.

I have to thank Mr. Mashiter for the
following records.

Found in the Forest and had a pretty
thirty-five minutes, to ground in Norsey, fox
going by way of Brett's cover, Lillystone, and
as if for Mill Hill, but turning left-handed, ran
him across to Norsey. Found again in Temple
Grove, ran him up to Galleywood race course,
where he turned back and through Temple
Grove again, smartly, from here they stuck for
forty minutes to their fox and killed him down in
the open near Runwell Hall, going through
Horndon on the way. A perfect fifty minutes
from find to finish, hounds never assisted at all,

30 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

and taking a beautiful line over the Hanning-
field's.

Tuesday, February ist, i8y6.

Meet: North Ockendon.

Went to draw some hedgerows on Stur-
geon's Farm between South Ockendon and
Stifford. Put a fox off a hedgerow near South
Ockendon, who gave us one of the finest runs
ever seen in the Essex Union country — twenty
minutes racing from where we found him to
Franks, by way of Puddle Dock — from Franks,
and slower hunting, up to Warley Gap, going
through Codham Hall and Magpie Wood from
Warley Gap, through Hart's Woods, and across
Artichoke Common to Brockley Grove. From
here over the open (not touching Arnold's) into
the Essex country at Fitzwalters. Here,
getting on better terms with their fox, they sent
him along as if for Thoby, but turned back, ran
nearly to Mountnessing village and killed in the
open near Fitzwalters.

Saturday y February 26th, i8j6.

Meet : The Fortune of War.

Found directly in Roper's Shaw, ran a ring
round by Basildon, back within a field of
Roper's Shaw, and then away through Leigh,
Chapel Combe Wood, Bushy Lees, Northlands
and Martin's Hole, sank the hill here and
crossed the railway, running very prettily down
to Corringham Village, and lost him between
there and Stanford, a good hunting run of one

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 31

hour and twenty minutes. Found again in the
open between Bushy Lees and Horndon-on-
the-Hill, ran up to the hills through Combe and
Hall Woods, and away to within a field of
Dunton Hall. Here, turning left-handed, ran
as if for Puddle Dock, but turning again left-
handed up wind, they got to and fairly raced
their fox all over the open country between
Dunton and Horndon-on-the-Hill, running him
underneath a shed in Roper's Farmyard. Time,
one hour and five minutes.

Saturday, January 6th, 18 jy.

Mr. Mashiter described this as a good
day ; and so it was, I remember it very well.
Meet: Stock Street.

Found in the Forest, ran smartly to Mar-
garetting, a longish check here, but hit him off
again on the railway embankment. Ran
prettily across the high road as if for " The
Hyde," but turning to the right, took our fox
into and through Writtle Park Wood, pointed
as if for " Skreens," but turned again right-
handed, and away to Chignel and lost him
between there and Mashbury. A very good
hunting run one hour and fifty minutes — first
ten minutes to Margaretting racing. I don't
think it is in the least likely we changed foxes,
as Writtle Park Wood was the only cover they
touched and they never left the line there.

During the run Jane (the mare I was
riding) made a mistake, and we both subsided
into a ditch. Jane extricated herself before I
had time to get clear, the result was, when I

32 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

discovered exactly what had occurred I found
myself hanging head downwards, with the mare
cantering down the field, and with a big fence in
front of us. Fortunately Jane was prevented
from carrying out her intention of negotiating
the obstacle. Old Joe Bailey, the whip, caught
her, and set me free from a very awkward
situation. The only result was, my hat was
kicked to atoms and I was obliged to finish the
day and ride home without one.

Tuesday, January 8th, i8j8.

Meet : Laindon Hills.

Found in the Heronry, ran a ring round by
Mucking Gorse, and on to the Marshes and
back to ground just above the Heronry — a
pretty twenty minutes' spin. Another fox from
Mucking Gorse went to ground in the same
place after a ten minutes* gallop. Drew
Mucking Gorse again and found a straight-
necked 'un, ran him very fast up to Hangman's
Woods, hounds never dwelling for a moment.
A slight check here, but soon hit him off again.
Ran him up to Stifford Clays, crossing the road
between Stifford and Baker Street, and all over
the open country (a beautiful line) to within
three quarters of a mile of Puddle Dock, turned
back over Bulphan and Orsett Fens, and killed
him after as good a run of one hour and five
minutes as anyone could wish for, in the open
near Mr. Sturgeon's Farm at South Ockendon.
The first twenty-five minutes very fast, and the
remainder of the run hounds went fast at times.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 33

Saturday, February 2^rd, i8y8.

Meet : Wickford Castle.

Found in one of Mr.T.Kemble's covers, and
after a quick thirty minutes round by Foxearth
Moor Gardens, killed him near South Hanning-
field Church. Found again in Well Wood, a
rare good fox, and had a splendid run (one hour
and ten minutes) to Danbury Park and killed
him going across to Moor Gardens, and through
Mr. Kemble's cover, turned sharp to left and
over a fine open country, leaving the " Plough
and Sail " on the left, and as if for the Glebe
Wood (but skirted it) and away to Danbury
Common, through it, and pulled him down in
the open close to the palings at Danbury Park.
The first half-hour racing. I never saw a yard
of it after they left the Runwell covers, as I got
a fall and lost a stirrup leather, and the time I
lost threw me out. Miss Helme out on " Bally-
haise " ; she rode well, and got the brush.
I remember this run as being first-rate.

FIRE AT THORNDON HALL.

The day after this great fire the Meet was
at Herongate, and Captain White, out of res-
pect to Lord and Lady Petre's feeHngs, decided
not to chance hounds running through the Park,
so we trotted right away to Stock ; but imagine
our feelings when we found, and the fox brought
us straight back through the Park, and past the
still smouldering mansion. It is a fact. But

34

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

undoubtedly foxes are the most mischievous
animals possible, and seem to know where they
are not wanted, and take a special delight in
going there. Should a funeral be anywhere
handy which it is particularly desired to avoid,
Mr. Fox is bound to make that his point.

THE SOUTHEND CHEMIST.

He was the son of a Gloucestershire farmer
which perhaps accounted for his love of the
chase, and also for the fact that he was a first-
rate man with hounds, and knew exactly where
to go and how to get there — and many a gate
have I seen him fly over; but it was quite a
shock to meet him in his Southend shop (and
one could hardly believe that the man in a long
black frock coat, with the smooth soft manner
natural to all chemists when they are recom-
mending some particularly effective pills) was
the ardent sportsman of a few days previously.

Once upon a time we w^ere crossing Creek-
sea Ferry at low water, when your only means of
arriving on terra firma after leaving the boat is
to be carried on the backs of the watermen.
What possessed our friend to loose his hold
round the man's neck I am at a loss to say ; but
certain it is that this is what he did, with the
result of finding himself flat on his back in the
water. We were horrified, as we moved in slow
procession through the water, to see our
Chemist suddenly disappear ; and so ended his
hunting for the day. History does not relate
how he was received on his return home. He

LEAVING THE FERRY BOAT AT CREEKSEA.

COLD BATH IN THE CROUCH.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 35

had a most devoted wife, and if he was an hour
or so late she suffered agonies. On one occa-
sion he had a fall, and damaged his hat ; he was
obliged to buy a new one for fear his accident
should be discovered.

An Account of a Day with the Duke of

Beaufort's hounds, given by

Mrs. Tawke, aged 93.

About seventy years ago, when I was
living with my father and mother, in Bath, on
one fine mild morning in November I walked
from home to breakfast at a friend's house at
eight o'clock. Her husband was in a cavalry
regiment (and they were spending their leave
in Bath), having brought with him three
chargers which he hunted with the Duke of
Beaufort's hounds.

My horse came from a good livery stable,
where many people staying in Bath for the
winter kept their hunters.

We had a very long ride to the Meet,
passing Lansdowne, arriving just in time.
There was a very large field.

I must now give you a description of my
friend. She was tall and handsome, with a very
elegant figure, and quantities of fair hair very
loosely dressed. She was quite unaccustomed
to riding, and sitting rather as one may say on
"tip-toe." The habit was very long and the
skirt full, and looking below the waist it was
quite evident that she had not removed her

*36 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

ordinary garments. She wore a lovely hat and
long white feather. My friend (to my great
regret) was advised by her husband to return
home before they found.

A fox was soon on foot, and away they went,
and as we saw the last rider disappear, my friend
was seized with a sudden impulse to follow.
She called out to me : " Come on Augusta," and
off she went, the groom and I following. We
soon came to a small bank ; on the far side of
which was a very heavy ploughed field: over
this obstacle she flew. I saw the figure toppling
and toppling, and at last, quite unable to re-
cover herself, off she came, was flung over her
horse's head, and landed in the ploughed field
some yards away — and there we found her
seated. She was quite unhurt, but terribly
crestfallen. I was choking with laughter at the
spectacle she presented : the lovely hat and long
white feather had flown away, the beautiful hair
hanging down her back. The skirt, which had
got much out of place, displayed fine frilled
petticoats ; her small feet in shoes — with sandals
— and the white open-worked stockings plas-
tered with mud !

I held her horse while she got on, and rode
back to Bath, not feeling in the best of spirits
at my disappointment, and the sorry sight we
presented as we rode through the most fashion-
able streets of Bath — just as the beau monde
was taking a morning airing.

After this unfortunate beginning, I had
many pleasant days with the Duke of Beaufort's
hounds.

MRS. TAWKE, AGED 93.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 37

MR. KEMBLE.

Mr. Kemble, of Runwell Hall, was one —
I may say the last — of the old country squires
in the county. I am at a loss to describe him as
he deserves. He was a thorough sportsman in
every sense of the word (the very name of his
house reminds one of hunting), and then he was
a most perfect gentleman. You have only to
read the fifteenth Psalm if you want to find the
truest description of the word. Always ready to
do a kindness to anyone, with a keen sense of
humour ; but his platform was the hunting field ;
he knew the game all round, a wonderful
knowledge of the country and the run of a
fox, enabled him to see the best of most runs.
He always had one or other of his daughters
with him, and their unselfish devotion to their
father earned the sincere admiration of every-
one. One afternoon the Hunt train was on its
return journey from Southminster. We were
packed in the carriage like sardines. The old
squire, according to his usual custom, was
taking home a basket of fish. We were grad-
ually alive to the fact that there was the most
horrid smell, and from no apparent cause. The
train began to slow up for Battlesbridge. Mr.
Kemble suddenly remembered his fish. It had
disappeared, and was nowhere to be found. His
disappointment was great. Besides fish there
was in the basket a couple of wild duck. The
whole company in the carriage were convulsed
with laughter when, on his getting up, there was

38 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

the basket flat — he had been sitting on it !

How he enjoyed viewing a fox away, and
what a treat it was to hear his cheery voice. I
saw him for the last time on the last day of the
season. He could no longer ride, but, wrapped
up in a cloak, he was driving about most of the
day, and just as I was contemplating going
home, he called out, " I shall be greatly obHged
if you will ride round those two rough fields and
see if there is a fox. I think there is one there."
Of course I went at once, delighted to do his
bidding. That was the last time I saw him.

I am indebted to Captain Kemble for the
details of the following : —

Meet, Woodham Ferris Street, Thursday,
February i6th, 1893. Drew Woodham Hall
Wood, found at once and went away through
Ffolkes, Jacklets, to Hawes Wood, and on
through Caney, then to the left by Flambards ;
there was a brace of foxes in front of hounds.
Stuck to one, which took us back over Edwin's
Hall, when the hounds threw up. Held them
right forward over the fields below Woodham
Ferris, by Flambards, on to the big drain in the
railway cutting, not being able to hit him off, we
were trotting away to draw Wright's Ley, when
there was a holloa on the railway by Woodham
Ferris Station. Had a nice spin up to Stow
Mary's Rectory, when the fox was viewed by the
Parson, the Rev. R. Collings, crawling in at the
window of his greenhouse. The Parson went
in by the door to evict him; the fox jumped
through the glass on the opposite side and was

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 39

killed in the Parson's garden, close to the fowl-
house, where, doubtless, he had found many a
good supper, as he evidently knew his way
about. When killed the fox was as stiff as a
poker, showing what a warm time he must have
had. The pate and brush were presented to
the old squire, February i6th, 1893, being his
seventy-eighth birthday. And what I think is
quite worthy of record is that on February
15th, 1894, the day before his seventy-ninth
birthday, a similar presentation was made to Mr.
Kemble, and at the same place, namely. Stow
Rectory. After this interlude, I will pass on to
the account of the run — I put the finish before
the start — but, Hke many novel readers, I could
not resist looking at the end first. Well, here
it is. Drew Mundon Furze, Hazeleigh Hall
and Hanging Wood — blank. Found in the
Hyde, Danbury, after one turn round the covert
went away at racing pace through Slough
House, Parsonage Wood, Hazeleigh Hall, and
on up to Purleigh Church, where there was a
check. Hit him off, and marked him to ground
in a drain by the railway. Spot, the terrier,
bolted him. After a bit ot a ring, he went away
by Purleigh, round Bush, Wright's Ley, and
into the drain by Stow Rectory, it being a
12-inch pipe. Furrier (a hound) followed and
bolted him, and, as I before said, the pate and
brush were presented to Mr. Kemble, making
the second time he got a birthday gift that he
would doubtless appreciate.

There was a time during the run when I
found myself in the very proud position of being

40 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

alone with George Rae. We were racing down
the hill to the Parsonage Wood, George flung
open the gate at the bottom, and my horror cail
be imagined when I saw it shut to immediately
after he had gone through. Added to that,
Margaret, my mare^ had got the bit well behind
her tooth. Fortunately the mare soon decided
what was the only thing to be done, and did it,
and we landed safely.

One day a fox had gone to ground in the
Scrubbs, and we were all standing round,
waiting to know what was going to be done,

when up bounced the owner of Hall, a

short stout lady, very red in the face.

" What right have you here, I should Hke
to know?"

Mr. Kemble came forward, and in his most
courteous manner said :

" None whatever, madam. We only ride
about here through your kind indulgence."

The lady strutted off defeated.

CHARLES TABOR.

If I tried to tell you one half of Charles
Tabor's clever sayings, I should fill my book.
It must have been when I was about seven years
old, I remember seeing him for the first time ; he
had come to live at Rochford Hall and manage
his uncle's farm. My brother and Charles were
ferreting. When I came upon the scene ready
to help, they had just taken a live rabbit out of
the net and I wanted to keep it ; Charles said he
should kill it. I was furious and called him a

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 41

" nasty beast," and he never forgot to remind me
of our first meeting. He became a most valued
friend, and it would be impossible to express the
terrible blank his death caused in our circle.

One evening when he went home after
hunting, he told his boy to put his boots on the
trees.

" Yessir," replied Jack, who had only just
taken on the job of valet.

It was a pouring wet night and, when Mr.
Tabor looked out in the morning, there were his
boots hanging on the trees outside the window.

" Jack, you rascal, what have you been up
to with my boots ? "

" Done as you told me, sir, and put 'em on
the trees at once."

I beUeve this episode appeared in Punch,
with a drawing by Charles Keane, who was a
friend of Mr. Montagu, the late Rector of
Hawkwell, and the former occasionally stayed
with him; and this neighbourhood provided
material for many of his pictures in Ptmch.

So long as his health lasted, I cannot
remember the run when Charles was not there,
and it would be difficult to come across a field
that he could not find a way out of. He had a
horse called " Treacle," generally known as the
** Steam Roller," and when he came to a nasty
hairy, black fence which no one cared to tackle,
Treacle would paw and stamp, and crawl until
there was a hole big enough to drive a carriage
and pair through. But oh ! the horror of finding
him in front of you, filling up the only gap, when
your animal was a keen jumper, and one which

42 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

did not allow the grass to grow under its feet.
At the best of times Treacle, as his name denotes
never galloped any pace ; but Charles Tabor lost
no time standing about ; hewas always on the go.
At three o'clock, unless hounds were running,
the order was given for " home." We were a
large party who went out from this side then,
and when the command went forth, off we all
started. Charles Tabor ruled the pace. When
he said we will " spuffle " we spuffled — and
what torture that sort of jog-trot is to a woman
too ! And no one ever ventured to suggest the
idea to deviate from the acknowledged short-
cuts home. He was, I may say, without excep-
tion, the most agreeable companion I ever met,
and I picked up a store of valuable information
which I have never forgotten. We all had to
price every field of cattle we passed. He was
a first-rate farmer : his men used to say he could
see more galloping across a field than any other
man would find out walking round for a fort-
night. An amateur agriculturalist was one day
pointing out some poor, wretched-looking
beasts ; they were in a pasture not good enough
to keep a mouse ; he told us they were suffering
from liver complaint. " Yes," repHed Charles ;
" I see : bilious with too rich living ! "

For two or three years before his death he
could only manage to trot ; galloping made him
breathless. When at last he was forced to give
up entirely, his absence caused a gap in our
midst which has never been filled. His sound
common-sense made him a power in Rochford
Hundred.

CHARLES TABOR AND TREACLE.

HUNTING RECOLLECTrONS. 43

There is a house not a hundred miles from
here full of beautiful oak carving, besides being
haunted ; and Charles Tabor never failed to
inform us as we passed it : " You see that house ?
Well, every crime under the sun has been com-
mitted, and all the commandments have been
broken there."

Last summer I was attending an archaeo-
logical meeting, and, wishing to display my local
information to a stranger with whom I was con-
versing, I told him the foregoing about broken
commandments, &c. The stranger replied : " I
ought to know the place — it belonged to my
family for a great number of years, and I happen
to have been born there ! "

I felt taken down considerably, and decided
it was unsafe to talk to strangers at archaeo-
logical meetings ; one can never tell where they
come from, and to what period they may belong.

LEICESTERSHIRE:
GADDESBY HALL.

During '76 and three or four seasons fol-
lowing, I spent a great deal of time at Gaddesby
Hall, in the heart of the Quorn country. The
owner of Gaddesby was Mr. Cheney; in his
younger days considered one of the finest Hght
weight riders in Leicestershire. His father
and my grandfather were in the Scots Greys
together, and the friendship of the two families
lasted until Mr. Cheney's death.

44

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

In a conservatory leading out of the dining
room at Gaddesby Hall, there was a life-sized
statue of Colonel Cheney with his horse. (He
had three horses killed under him at Waterloo).
The effect was very good when the conservatory
was Hghted up. It was the custom for all the
men to dine in pink, and the whole thing was
like an artistic scene out of a play. If the
neighbours who came to dine only lived two or
three miles away, like Mr. Jorrocks, " where
they dined there they slept," bringing with them
a whole retinue of men-servants and maids;
the house must have been very elastic ; it
seemed to make no difference. In this way one
met many very pleasant people. I had a
great disappointment, and one I have never
ceased to regret: Whyte-Melville was expected,
and only at the last moment he sent a wire to
say his aunt, or sister, or some relation, was
dead.

One night I was sitting next to Sir
Frederic Fowke ; it suddenly dawned on him
that I came from the wilds of Essex. He said:
" I suppose you don't know a place called
Hockley? There is a farm there named
Smith's." I repHed that I did know it very
well. Mr. Jackson, who kept the beagles
(commonly known as the Master of the Buck
hounds) resided there. Sir Frederic said: "I
am a trustee for that place ; the property was
left as a charity, and provides red cloaks and
loaves for the deserving poor of Barsbury, in
Leicestershire." Smith's Farm has lately been
sold and cut up and laid out for building.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 45

Loseby Hall, which belonged to the
Fowkes family, was at one time rented by the
great Lord Waterford, and was the scene of
many of his exploits. I drove there to a meet
with Colonel and Mrs. Burnaby, and Sir
Frederic showed me the marks of " Cock
Robin's " feet on the polished floor in the dining
room, the story goes, after dinner, Lord
Waterford and a party of friends, who had been
dining well, but not too wisely, began betting
on the performances of their horses. Lord
Waterford said " Cock Robin " could beat any
of them, so my Lord had a gate brought in,
" Cock Robin " was fetched from his stable,
and over the gate he jumped. Another of his
bets was, he would drive to Melton, six miles
straight across country, in his brougham. Four
hunters were put in the carriage, but I don't
think he got very far before the whole thing was
smashed up.

One of his Lordship's customs was to ride
a pony up the beautiful stone staircase. One
night, being very far gone, he rode his horse up
to the first floor and jumped over the bannisters.
Needless to say, the horse was killed. I was
so inspired by such wonderful tales that, on my
return home, I was only prevented by the
earnest entreaty of my father — who begged me
not to do it — from riding an old horse called
" Banker," up the stairs at the Lawn.

It was the custom on Sunday at Gaddesby
to go round the stables. Mr. Cheney had
twenty-five hacks and hunters for his own riding
— and some beauties there were amongst them.

46 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

One especially fine animal, " Cannon Ball,"
always reminded me of the " clipper that stands
in the stall at the top." Mr. Cheney gave
;^55o for him, but he lasted only a few seasons ;
he went in his wind, falling a victim to a man
who knew too much and dosed him with
cayenne pepper.

" Royalist " w^as another superb horse, and
so was " Rebecca " ; both these Captain
Middleton wanted to buy for the Empress of
Austria. It will be remembered that Bay
Middleton was her pilot over the Shires.

One fine Sunday all the house-party were
making the usual tour, when suddenly the w^ife
of a General saw on the floor close to her
an article of apparel which it was the
horrid fashion in those days to wear. The
wretched w^oman naturally supposed it was
missing from her own attire, so she managed
to whisk it under her skirts and bolted for the
house, trusting — which was most unlikely — that
the episode had been kept to herself alone.
Her annoyance can easily be imagined when
she discovered she had taken some one else's
property, her own garment being in the proper
place — where you would expect to find it.
The owner of the missing article, who was in
happy ignorance of her loss, knew nothing of
the terrible thing which had befallen her until
the missing article was brought back by the
GeneraFs wife.

Before I leave the subject, I must tell you

how my sister was taken in by Lord , very

much given to playful jokes. At a dance at

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 47

the Vice-regal Lodge, Dublin, he crept quietly
up to her and said : " Do you know you have
dropped your bustle ? "

But we must return to Gaddesby Sundays.
Another visit we paid was to Mr. Cheney's
famous herd of shorthorns. There was great
tribulation when a " Duke of Geneva " was
dying of inflammation of the lungs : kettles kept
boiHng day and night, and Mr. Cheney's own
doctor in constant attendance. The bull, I
believe, was worth thousands.

Shorthorns are most uninteresting beasts,
and I can't say I appreciated that part of my
visit. The herd was second only to the late
Duke of Devonshire's.

There was tremendous excitement when
the Prince of Wales (the late King) was ex-
pected to visit Gaddesby, and a gold dessert
service was bought for the occasion. Poor
Mr. Cheney found himself in a great fix. Only
cream of the cream ever entered the doors. A
fair lady arrived at the meet ; he did not wish
to be unkind, but neither did he intend to ask
her in to the house, so he solved the difficulty
by presenting her with a lovely bunch of roses.

At the time I am writing of, Mr. Copeland
was Master and Tom Firr huntsman. I shall
always look back to that period with profound
veneration for Tom Firr ; he was a fine hunts-
man, perfect horseman, and his voice was worth
going a mile or two to hear. Amongst his
many accomplishments he was a poet, and here
are some of the lines he wrote : —

48 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

A BYE-DAY WITH THE QUORN.

My stud is nearly done up,
My sport must soon be spun up,
No such season have I seen

Since the day that I was born;
For a stable full of screws
Must give a man the blues
When he thinks he's bound to lose

A bye-day with the Quorn.

Heaving sighs both long and deep,
At the member's card I peep,
Giving Brooksby as the meet,

On this grand hunting morn.
I'll have a good look round,
They must go if lame or sound.
For on joining I am bound ;

A bye day with the Quorn.

As along the road I jog

My nag goes with a nod,

Till I reach the place of meeting.

With the hounds upon the lawn.
Then he looks and gives a neigh,
And his lameness throws away;
Ah ! at home he wouldn't stay

On a bye-day with the Quorn.

Orange gin my spirits healing.
To show there's no ill-feeling,
Ere I follow up my pets,

The bitches and the horn.
*Tis a field composed for sport,
Few of Friday's medley sort;
No crowd from streets or court

On a bye-day with the Quorn.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 49

There's Cream Gorse in the distance
Which offers no resistance;
Full of foxes that will fly

At the sounding of the horn.
With a pack that truly race
Each man now takes his place,
For his heart is in the chase

On a bye-day with the Quorn.

Say, can anything surpass

A gallop o'er the grass.

Hounds straining, horses racing,

The coldest blood grows warm.
We charge each rasping double,
No fear, nor thought of trouble.
Ah, give me sixteen couple

And a bye-day with the Quom.

Then my day's sport being over,
And my spirits all in clover,
Feeling young, fresh and happy

As the day that I was born,
I order up a jumper,
And fill myself a thumper,
Drinking hunting in a bumper,

And a bye-day with the Quorn.

1877.
(Taken from The Field.)

Our Quorn bye-day was at Gaddesby, the
" saddle and sirloin " of the hunt : for Mr.
Cheney's deeds in the one are only surpassed
by his wonderful success in producing the other,,
atid as we journey from the Hall I see the
rostrum where the auctioneer more than once
dispersed the herd of shorthorns to all quarters
of the globe. But before leaving the Hall I

50 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

had a peep at the marble equestrian statue of
the late Colonel Cheney (I believe of the Scots
Greys) who had three horses shot under him at
Waterloo, the statue shows him on his last horse
which is wounded, and though only a Captain,
lie rode off the field in command of the regiment.
A fine work of art and memento of a brave man.

Cream Corse — suggestive of rich pastures
and fine old Stilton cheese — has nothing of the
Tcind to recommend it. What I have seen of its
surroundings has been the dirty plough and
very poor pasture land ; but there stands the
gorse, and there lie the foxes, thanks to the
owner, who, they tell me, is a good sportsman,
who hunts himself and takes a pride in finding
foxes for other people^s enjoyment.

There was not a good scent in or out of
cover, and a slow hunting run right down into
the valley of the Wreake, close to Kirby Park,
was our first attempt — Tom Firr giving his fox
credit for having crossed the river, which it
turned out he never did, as we found him tucked
away in a pig-stye in Kirby village as we came
iDack, and hounds had their luncheon. Ashby
Pastures (classic ground), vide the great run
therefrom in the Quarterly Review years ago)
was our next venture, and a very fair fifteen
minutes, and to ground in a gravel hill below
Thorpe finished that little scurry. But Thorpe
Trussells is handy, and as we cross over the
railway cutting close to the cover, we see that
since we were last there the " American Devil,"
as the steam digger is called, has made much
way in opening the line. Verily we live in the

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 51

age of steam. But, hark! hounds are at him,
and away he goes over the road — a tempting
jump into the stubbles, but not so easy as it
looks ; then down to a copse in a corner, and
away to the left over the line, and under
Thorpe, past Adams Gorse ; and crossing by
the top end of the Melton Steeplechase course,
he goes over that superb line of old pasture-
land, leaving Burrough village to the right ; and
as we mount the hill, we think that there is no
cover within three miles of him in front, and
hope for the best. But the fox was too deep for
us, and up at the Twyford Road he gives us the
slip and all is over.

1877.

MEET OF THE QUORN HOUNDS AT

GADDESBY HALL.

Thursday, April 6th, the Quorn hounds
met at Gaddesby, the seat of Mr. Cheney.
The time of meeting was one p.m., which gave
everyone a chance to attend. The owner of
Gaddesby extended his hospitality to all classes,
and it was consequently nearly half-past one
before hounds threw off. They went first to
draw Cream Gorse, and as they crossed the
fields that separate it from the place of meeting,
it was evident that all the hunting world from
these parts intended to have the last gallop of
the season with the Quorn. Amongst those
present were Mr. Coupland (the Master), Lords
Grey and Wicklow, Sir F. Fowke, Sir A.

52 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

Palmer, Sir B. and Lady Florence Dixie, Sir
Henry Des Voeux, Mrs. Sloane Stanley, the
Messrs. Story, Miss Story, Captain and Mrs.
Barnett, Mr. E. Chaplin, Miss Elmhurst,
Captain and the Hon. Mrs. Molyneaux, and
hosts of others.

Cream Gorse did not keep us long waiting,
and a fox was quickly away. He headed at first
for Ashby Pastures, and most of us thought it
was his point; but he turned towards Kirby
Lodges, and then ran slowly towards Kirby
Bellars. Here pug again turned and ran nearly
to Cream Gorse. The riding now over plough
was simply killing, the rain of the last hours
having been so sharp as to render the " going "
worse than ever. Though the pace was not
fast, the field " tailed " tremendously, and when
they got on grass, with stiff fencing, a large
number of falls from pumped horses was the
result. They skirted the Brookby Spinneys
and ran merrily towards Queniborough. Before,
however, crossing the road, they iDore to the
left, and skirting the village of Gaddesby,
carried the line to a large field above the Hall.
Here, from information received, hounds were
not allowed to persevere, as it was suspected
that a vixen was before them. Queniborough
Spinneys were blank, and a move was made to
Barkby Holt. The new covert was tried, and
a fox immediately found ; but scent in covert
being bad, it was some minutes before Reynard
could be induced to break. At last he did, and
hounds being quickly on the line, they raced
at best pace in the direction of South Croxton.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 53

This they skirted and then bore sHghtly to the
left, where the Queniborough brook had to be
jumped. Great numbers went at it, and most
got over, though I saw one luckless one taking
a cold bath, and several hind legs were too near
the edge to be satisfactory to themselves or
their riders. This crossed, hounds were a good
field in front of anyone, and a follow-my-leader
business was not conducive to getting on better
terms. Fortunately they came to a check at
the Queniborough Road, and followed again a
fair start for all. This road they crossed, and
when close to Gaddesby, pug was headed, and
running straight back, was run into and killed
by three of four couple. It was short but
brilliant, and lasted about seventeen minutes.

It was then decided that Bleakmore should
be called on. It being out of the way, many
retired, but those who persevered were re-
warded. Two foxes were quickly away, and
the one on which the hounds settled ran along
the railway and up to the Melton Road. He,
however, dodged back, and ran towards
Brooksby, then down to the Wreake ; but the
recent rains had increased its proportions, and
Reynard refused to face it. He bore to the left
(after furnishing a most enjoyable gallop) and
got back to a small spinney on the line. Num-
bers now galloped down the Hne, and mean-
while a train was seen coming up. The field
were in all directions, but those on the rail line
(though in dangler from passing trains) were
better placed. It was much feared that the fox
must now be chopped ; but he broke, and

54

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

crossing the line and Melton Road, skirted
Rearsby, which was on the left. Here hounds
checked, but pug had had his last run, and
whilst Tom Firr was casting in front, was killed
by the tail hounds in Mr. Hassell's shrubbery.
So ended the day — alas! the last one of the
Quorn ; and everyone went home keener than
ever, and looking forward to the time when we
shall see our beauties again, and hear the cheery
voice of Tom Firr.

VISITS OF THE BENSON FAMILY
TO THE LAWN.

We got a letter from my sister saying they
had taken second leave, and would like to come
to The Lawn on a three months' visit. We
repHed to the effect that nothing would give us
more pleasure than to receive the whole party.
We were taken at our word, and in due course
there arrived at Southend Station my sister,
her husband, and her only son. I regret to say
this boy was one of the many victims of the
South African War. He was a Captain in the
Coldstream Guards, and just before he went
out he passed an examination at the Staff
College, which was described to me by Sir
Evelyn Wood in the following words : " He has
not gone through a gap but jumped a stiff post
and rails." But I must return to our visitors.
Four horses and a pony, man and maid, two
soldier servants, one goat, three dogs (one was
a white poodle, named " Zulu " by my sister

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 55

before she saw him) — " Scrap," and " Mite," a
Yorkshire terrier.

" Mite " was a tiny dog weighing about one
pound. What breed I don't know, but in ap-
pearance he was very odd, as he was cHpped ta
match the poodle. Three birds and two mice
completed the party, and luggage to correspond.

The next morning the meet was at " The
Shepherd and Dog," Grays Hill. So off we
went, my father driving a high old phaeton.
You could turn it about as you Hked; on this
occasion the hood was on the back seat. My
mother went with us. For some unknown
reason one of the Lancer men had been sent on
with the horses ; he did not know his way, and
after an agonizing half-hour at " The Shepherd
and Dog " — where, needless to say, no horses
were to be found — he turned up, having entirely
lost himself and gone round by Pitsea. There-
was not much doing all the first part of the day.
Scent was poor, no doubt the rain which came
down in the afternoon had something to do with
it. Anyhow, matters improved when we found
a fox in Lady Wood, ran through Swan Wood^
Bretts, Cowbridge, on to Ingrave, through
Thorndon Park, out the Childerditch side, back
to the Park, ran round several times ; when, as
it was getting dark and rain coming down in
torrents, we said we would go home. By the
time we got through Herongate to the cross
roads — one way going to Billericay by Bottle-
down Hill, the other to Wickford by Dunton
Blacksmiths and the Fortune of War — It was
too dark to see the signpost, and I did not know

^6 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

my way about thirty years ago as well as I do
now. Fortunately there was a cottage at the
corner, and after a great deal of trouble we got
the people to come and tell us which road to
take for Wickford. To add to our trials, the
horse I was riding was just about done up, lame,
and at any time a shocking bad hack. He had
landed over several fences on his head — in fact,
it had been quite a mercy that he possessed a
head to make use of for that purpose. Well,
all things bad and good have an ending, so did
'Our ride, and we got to Wickford drenched to
the skin, and we were very glad to borrow
clothes from Mrs. Bull, the landlady of the
Castle Inn, and her maid, Julia — they were both
portly persons, and, at the time I write of, we
were slim. I leave it to my reader's imagina-
tion to picture what we looked like. The horses
had to remain at the Castle Inn till Sunday
afternoon, the floods were too high for them to
get through. It was only by not letting the
grass grow under our feet over our toilet that
we managed to get away in the carriage. Never
after that day did I start out hunting without a
"bag of clothes. In fact, the next hunting day
Bessie said, " Got your things, Gus ?" " I have,"
I repUed. But she went one better than I, she
'had taken her " nighty " !

One day soon after, the neighbourhood was
plunged into great excitement. The Parson's
house had been broken into by burglars. The
Inspector came up to consult my father ; such a
thing as burglary was unknown in these quiet
•districts where many of the farm labourers had

MRS. BENSON ON BULLY.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 57

never so much as been to London, and police-
men still wore tall hats, the same as used to figure
largely in pantomimes. Such a terrible affair
as a burglary was discussed in every possible
detail. A few days after the Inspector arrived
and had another interview with my father. This
time he was most apologetic, and begged that
nothing further in the matter should be done, as
from " information received," the burglars were
none other than the two soldier servants we had
staying in the house, they had been " visiting "
the Parson's maids ! The whole affair was kept
dark, and I was the only member of the house-
hold who was let into the secret, and I expect
my father did that to prevent my pursuing
further investigations. He knew, too, how once
I was bound to silence, neither wild horses or
the rack, or anything else would make me give
the show away.

1877.

THE ESSEX UNION HOUNDS.

(From The Field,)

which met for the last day of a bad cub hunting
season at Hutton Railway Arch on Saturday,
November 3rd. The hounds were thrown into
Arnold Wood, one of the many certain finds on
Lord Petre's large estate. A brace of foxes
broke on the Hutton side, on one of which the
hounds settled, and drove through Mr. John-
son's grounds to Brockley Grove, on to Ingrave
Thrift, where he tried the door of his native

58 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

home, but the heat this time was too much for
him, and he went on, leading his pursuers
through Thorndon Park to Childerditch Wood,
away over the large fields to near the old
steeplechase course, then to East Horndon,
across Dunton Hall, where he was viewed toil-
ing forward under a July sun to Westwood
Shaw, Laindon Hills. Away at the lower end
to Bushy Lees, across Major Spitty's farm to the
Southend railway, where the hounds got a view,
and raced him for a mile between the metals to
Vange, where he turned to Fobbing Mill, on
to Whitehall Marshes, over the creek to
Thames Haven Station, then to Stanford-le-
Hope, and at last, as several foxes were on foot,
the hounds were stopped at Mr. Long's farm,
and this good fox was left in his glory, to the
great disappointment of the Master; but with
the wind behind him and a choking hot sun in
front, the hounds could never press their fox
sufficiently, though many times during the
sporting run he seemed doomed to be killed,
but he never gave Mr. White a chance, as he
had the wind behind him from find to finish.
The distance the hounds ran must have been at
least twenty miles, as by the map it is fifteen
miles from Arnold Wood to Thames Haven
Station. Most of the prominent members of
the Hunt and many ladies were present,
amongst whom were the Hon. Bernard Petre,
son of the good Lord Petre, to whom this hunt
is greatly indebted for his strict preservation of
foxes, Mr. Edward Courage, Mr. Ind and his
son, Mr. and Miss Caldicott, Mr. Cotton, a

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 59

grand old Madras civilian, who goes as straight
as a dart, young Mr. Richard Walmsley, the
brothers Lescher, the hard-riding Saunders,
Captain Helme and his sister, mounted splen-
didly. The former on a white-legged horse,
Mr. Helme, as neat as any man could be, Mrs.
E. Helme, Miss Tawke and many others.

1877.
THE ESSEX UNION FOXHOUNDS.

(From The Field.)

There were out, Captain and Mrs.
Goodeve, Miss Tawke, Mrs. Dewi, Colonel
Ravenhill, Major Nolan, M.P., Colonel
Marshall, Messrs. Baker (two), Phillips,
Tabor, Benson, Grayson, Belcham, Hudson,
Webster, Rickett, Walls, Bishop, Harrington,
Walker, Webster, Moss, and a great many
more. Our first draw was some cole seed
at Rochford Hall, which did not yield as
good a crop in foxes as I hope it may seed
when the time comes, for blank was written
upon it ; so likewise in the cole seed at Prittle-
well. This is owing solely to a wet night, for
foxes, as " Jorrocks " says, " like damp beds as
little as Christians." So away we go for the
Bull Wood, passing several small woods on
our way. This is our last hope, and things
look bad ; but just as people were getting out
sandwiches and flasks, a welcome challenge is
heard, which is at first thought to be " only a

6o HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

puppy after a hare." Our veteran whip (Joe
Bailey) knows the voice, however, and cheers
on the pack, which endorse the whimper, and
our Master, who did not hear the good news
welcomed, now flings in the main body of his
forces. " Now, ye doubting souls, where are
all your pains, I, as Beckford says. A quick
scurry round the wood, and out towards Had-
leigh ; but our ringing fox takes us back again,
and all hope of a run seems gone. One young
lady, wtII known with this hunt and the Quorn,
unfortunately came to grief here at a gate on
rising ground with a bad take off. Fortunately
no bones are broken or life lost, but odds were
laid in favour of either one or the other. Let
me remind the fair rider that " discretion is the
better part of valour." On we go, however,
and a fast run takes place round Mr. Wendon's
farm, still pointing for Hadleigh ; but still pug
cannot make up his mind to fairly get away
more than four fields from the great Bull Woods.
Back he comes, therefore, hounds running with
an improvement of scent, but on gaining covert
scent is not good, and we slowly hunt him round
from point to point — now a holloa: then a
whimper, — and many say " Good-bye." "Can't
do anything to-day." " Getting late." " Fm
off." Not so the men who know Captain White
and the Essex Union Hounds. About a dozen
say, " Let's see the end," and in less time than
it takes me to write, the fox is away for Hockley
Church, in the opposite direction from that in
which we came, tHe hounds having forced him
through the covert. There are but few with

?5i'.4 "^

ANTICIPATION.

RESULT.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 6i

them (including Mrs. Goodeve, who is always
well to the fore, and handles her horse with
great judgment and skill, never expecting too
much from a willing horse), and a real hunting
run we have by Blunt's Wood, which we do not
enter, and on towards Down Hall. One or two
men are down in the brook by way of a " re-
fresher," but all join in the run at Hambro Hill.
The hounds here do their work admirably,
hunting inch by inch, for it is a regular horrid
day, and right well does our worthy Master " let
*em alone." (I fancy myself that he has been
"crossing" with the Bramham Moor). Forward
on we go then for the " Drover's Arms," at the
back of which he doubles into a furze fence, up
which he runs, and to ground near Hambro
Hill. Thus we accounted for our fox. After
thinking it all over and sitting with my pipe
before the fire, I come to the conclusion that
Shakespeare was not far wrong when he said —
" All's well that ends well."

1877.
ESSEX UNION FOXHOUNDS.

On Wednesday, March 14th, these hounds
met at Rayleigh. There was a large field as-
sembled, including Messrs. C. and A. Tabor,
Tawke, Winmill, Coles, Webster and many
more.

We first of all drew several small woods
without finding, although foxes are said to have
been running in all directions by several trust-

62 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

worthy foot people. The hounds at last found,
about two o'clock, in Hockley Bull Wood, just
as everyone was thinking of going home, and
away we go at a good pace for Merrylands,
Hockley Hall, and to within a field of Plum-
borough Wood, then on to a wood I believe
called Crab's Wood. Here he laid up in a
ditch, but the " little loders " pushed him out
and forced him into the open for Hockley Plall
Wood, through which they take him at a cHnk-
ing pace up wind for Hockley Church, over the
road, apparently for Blount's Wood ; but dis-
daining its temporary shelter he went (still up
wind) for Down Hall, the pack going like
hounds should go. From Down Hall he
goes over the Rayleigh Cricket Ground, and
pointing for Great Wheatleys, but, finding some
big hedgerows in that direction, he lays up for
a minute. This is a bad move for him as the
beauties are on too good terms with our hero
for these tricks, so " up you get or I'll make
you," says Redwing (or one of the others). Up
he gets therefore, in front of the veteran Joe
Bailey (the whip) and comes through Mr.
Henson's meadow, past the Rayleigh Gas
Works, into the road in view of the leading
hounds. Here all seemed over, but poor pug
had two minutes more to live, for he managed
to get through a broken gate and across a small
field into a cottage garden ; but not knowing
where he was, he turned back, and was killed in
the meadow fairly after a run of one hour, four
minutes. This turned out to be a fine dog fox,
and as good a one as ever was cubbed, and my

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 63

only hope is that he has left some of his race in
the land of the living. The pace from Blounts to
Rayleigh was simply appalling for any fox, let
alone horses ; but our Essex men and horses are
bad ones to beat, as was proved by Messrs. A.
and C. Tabor, M. Baker, a gentleman from
Vange, and others.

A better day in the Rochford country we
have not had this year ; and if we can only get
Mr. White down here oftener, our joy will be
complete. We have already signs in the neigh-
bourhood that the foxes do not mean to retire
into private life (at all events without providing
a place of shelter for the " missus ") as the earths
are drawn in several places ; so all we want for
next season are the hounds. A subscription to
foxhounds is better than a doctor's bill, and you
must have one or the other : so choose for your-
selves which it is to be, says " Squills."

1877.
ESSEX UNION FOXHOUNDS.

On Monday, February 12th, these hounds
met at the Lawn, Rochford.

To say the least of it, the Clerk of the
weather was anything but accommodating, as
befitted his high office, and the day was not very
bright, but like the eel in the frying pan — this
kind of weather is nothing when you are used
to it, and as we are not made of salt or sugar
we do not melt very easily.

There were present of the field proper: —

64 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

Captain White (the Master), Messrs. C. A.
Tabor, S. S. Baker, Drs. Marshall, Bourne,
R.A., Messrs. Gale, Offin, Webster, F. M.
Baker, May, Ventris, Hardy, Watts, Dixey,
Miss Tawke and lots more (pardon me not
remembering their names).

About 11.30 the hounds were thrown into
Potash Wood, where we quickly found a grand
fox, known by the name of the " old customer,"
owing to his having afforded us some capital
runs on previous occasions, but always evaded
his pursuers when nearly " done " close to where
he was found. This time, however, he had
rather a hard time of it, for, breaking away to
the south towards Rochford, he took us at a
good pace for Rochford Hall; before getting
actually up to the buildings of that historical
mansion, he turned to the right over the Hall
Road by Leicester Mead, and pointing for
Westbarrow Hall, running round the farm
buildings, he pointed for Cherry Tree Farm,
and so on to Mr. Fred Stallibrass's over the
brook, and through Mr. Cotton's grove, from
there on to Potash Wood, thus making a com-
plete circle. Our first real check here took
place, as he had gained five or ten minutes by
running some spinneys, but, making a capital
cast, Captain White made his ground good all
round this fifty acre wood and discovered that
our customer had quietly laid himself down
close to where he was found. The hounds soon
hunted up to him, although the rain was coming
down and the wind blowing " great guns." A
tally on the Lawn side set us all on the go again,

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 65

and away we go past the Mansion for the Rev.
B. Cotton's grove. Not entering this, however,
he pointed for the Scrubs, leaving Primrose
Wood on his right ; through the Scrubs he goes
for Dark Wood, and so on to Hockley Bull
Wood. Now came a serious time, hounds run-
ning in all directions, foxes too — a trying time
for a Master's temper just as his fox is done.
It cannot be helped, however, and to make a
long story short we changed foxes. " How
about the customer you started with.^^" says a
lady. " Oh, never mind him now," for the
Master is off and away with a fresh fox, and
only eleven and a half couple of hounds pointing
to Mr. Wendon's farm, and on good terms with
his fox. Then, turning to Noble's Green, the
fox took us (at a fair hunting pace) over the
Eastwood, Rayleigh road for Pound Wood.
Running through this we found ourselves in the
Hadleigh coverts, hunting inch by inch over
the dead leaves. He was viewed away in front
of the hounds for Eastwood, passing to the left
of Mr. Skilton's, over the road to Nobles Green,
and so on to Scrub Wood, which he did not
enter, but ran up the side of, then to the right,
and to the ground in Primrose Wood in a rabbit
hole, from which the hounds with a little assist-
ance drew him. " There's another fox in," says
somebody. " All right," says the Master, " let
him alone, and we'll have a run after it." Too
late, however, for " Royal " had drawn him
alone, and so two foxes are broken up at the
same time. As to the other hounds left in the
Bull Wood, they appear to have had a good

06 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

time of it ; but running round and round, they
did not account for the customer, although he
was dead beat and viewed several times across
the drives. At the death all hounds put in their
appearance; so, possibly, though I don't think
it likely, both portions of the pack ran their fox
into the same earth. We then adjourned once
more to the Lawn. A never failing covert was
then drawn, and all the biped pack had a regular
merry time over the good things provided.
Casualties were not worth mentioning; one
horse hurt his shoulder, and the usual falls took
place owing to horses being pumped. Mr.
Bourne and Dr. Marshall were well to the fore,
as also the lady on Old Joe. The Master was
always there, but that is perfectly unnecessary
to state, as upon all occasions he is ready to lend
his hounds a helping hand when at fault, and
this cannot be done in this land of the steam
plough without consummate skill in handling
your horse as well as your hounds. Foxes are
exceedingly plentiful about the Rochford
country, and it is to be hoped that Captain
White will bring his hounds down here as often
as he possibly can ; the big woodlands require
hunting at least once a week in order to get the
foxes to fly. Too much praise cannot be bes-
towed upon those gentlemen who so kindly
allow their land to be ridden over, and also for
their preservation of foxes ; for I must tell you
that as soon as it was generally understood that
Captain White would bring his pack into
Rochford Hundred, the idea was hailed with
delight; and now we have the best head of

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 67

foxes in the country over which he presides, and
all are pleased to see him and to render him
every assistance they possibly can. Finally, so
long as the country is regularly hunted by a
good man like our worthy Master, Captain
White, so long will foxes be plentiful ; and the
foxes will also be proud to yield up their
brushes, says a near neighbour of The Old
Customer.

LAYS OF THE ESSEX UNION HUNT.

1878.

If my Muse will permit me, I'll sing of a Hunt,
Which, though *' swells " may abuse, can well bear the

brunt ;
It lies between Thames and the Great Eastern Line,
Though sporting, 'tis heavy, and shows sport divine.

Rides up to the Meet, the Master, Bill White,
He's dapper and courteous — his weight very light —
'Tis a picture to see him sail along on his grey,
When the pack press their fox on a good scenting day.

" Who's his Whip?" says a stranger, who has run

down from Town ;
Why the '' Veteran Joe," of South Essex renown —
Full thirty-four seasons he has seen with the pack,
Though this is the last we shall hear his whip crack.

And now of the Field, let us see who is here ;
We know a good many, but not all I fear.
First the ladies I'll mention, their number is small,
But rare ones to go, and care nought for a fall.

There's a wee one from Rochford, her weight must be

nil,
But she rides her good chestnut with courage and skill.
The fences are nothing to her when hounds run ;
I'll back her to see all the best of the fun.

68 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

The fair one from Boxted, how well she is dres'd,
She e'er holds her own with those that go best,
She sits like a workman on that bonny black steed,
On him, of a pilot she cannot have need.

From Shoebury, too, comes a Gunner's fair wife,
Who verily rides as if no care in life
Could stop her from jogging- some miles on to cover,
To join the pursuit of the little Red Rover.

Another I see, on a raw three year old,

Methinks she must be a trifle too bold,

Yet she has such fine hands, and a beautiful seat.

That to see her on horseback is really a treat ;

Better known, perhaps, in show yards than at side of

the cover —
She is equally good at one or the other.

On a prize-taking cob, whose colour is bay.
Comes a lady who has ** gone " very well in her day;
With a ** Helm " for her pilot, she sailed gaily along.
But now she declares " that her nerve is quite gone."

The sterner sex now let us try to describe,
They are, I confess, a most numerous tribe;
Well mounted are most, on a good useful hunter —
A man in this country must not be a funker.

There's the son of the Laird of Thorndon's fair park.
He is keen for the sport from morning till dark.
For his ancestry ever were fond of the chase,
And the staunchest of friends to the sly vulpine race.

Old Belhus, too, sends us a sportsman as keen,
His family, too, of the Hunt have e'er been
The strongest supporters. Mind, go to the Sale
If you wish to be carried in Down land or Vale.

The Squire of Runwell — his covers ne'er fail
A good fox to provide for the Hanningfield vale —
He's a marvellous man to of Charles get a view,
And many a fox his view halloo must rue.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 69

From Weald, too, hails one who comes of a line
Of real good fox hunters ; hark back a long time !
He's off to East Essex, may he see the sport there
Of which in South Essex he has had a fair share.

Here's the M.P. for Middlesex on a slashing fine bay,
Who carries him well thro' the deep Essex clay;
He's as keen as a young 'un for the noblest of sport,
May him his constituents always support !

His son, too, looks in sometimes from the Shires,
And seems to care nought for the rough Essex briars ;
He shows us his coat tails whate'er be his mount —
The number of fences he jumps I can't count.

What a good weight-carrier ! his colour is grey.
His rider has plenty of " Courage " they say,
A first-rate supporter of E. Union Hunt,
If money is wanted he's e'er to the front.

From Boyles come the brothers we all know so well,
Both very good sportsmen — a tyro might tell.
We thank them for many a capital run.
From Blunt 's Wall or Arnold's we've seen some good
fun.

The Squire of Woodham, and his sons, too, are out,
Keen sportsmen the trio, of that there's no doubt;
How many a run they give us from Hazeleigh —
I have seen one and all go uncommon bravely.

Then Durwards turns out one in faultless attire,
His pluck and his get-up we all must admire,
Long may his stable hold the gallant rat-tail.
Who carries his owner o'er fences and rail.

A quartet from Warley — a father and sons —
All capital rides who see the good runs.
No more popular man than the Squire of Warley,
We wish that the gout didn't try him so sorely.

From Marshalls here's one whose appearance is rare,
For fox-hunting he does not very much care ;
He loves a straight galop with staghounds I know,
And with them he knows very well how to go.

70 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

There's a father and son from where " Love " grows

so** True,"
Both fond of the sport — we want Hke them a few —
The father has seen some sport in his day,
And loves to talk over the runs o'er the clay.
What a workman the son is ! and fond of a hound —
He knows most of their names, of that I'll be bound.

A long man from Writtle goes boldly to hounds,
To his humour and chaff there are no sort of bounds ;
He always dispenses with spurs and with whip.
And seems to care little or nought for a ** pip."

Oh ! Tabor of Baddow, I envy you daily,
That rattling black horse that carries you gaily ;
How you love if you can, to find some stiff rails
To pound the field over — your horse never fails.

The barracks at Warley, too, give us some men,

Who to beat, is a difficult task, that I ken ;

The " 56th " Captain, on a brave little bay,

And the "North Lincoln" Captain, you can't beat I say.

Here's another good sportsman we're all glad to greet.
He hails from near Brentwood, they call it Brook Street,
For a young 'un that wants a little good schooling,
Ask him to ride him — he's not given to fooling.

What day is it? Saturday. Surely I see

The father of the Hunt come out for a spree ;

He's a son of David — a rare good old sort —

And for years and for years has been fond of the sport.

All alert for the fun from Springfield comes one,
And with him a lady who loves a good run ;
He knows a good horse, and, in spite of his weight,
Is able to guide his companion quite straight.

Here's a "Welter" from Warley, on a good sturdy

black.
No one more enjoys a good day with the pack.
Years ago with " The Essex " he often was out.
Now he swears by ** The Union," of that there's no

doubt.

HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS. 71

The London Division are here pretty strong-,
Mr. Saunders among them, who never goes wrong;
Whate'er be the country, whate'er be the pace,
He is sure to be found in a very front place.

The Doctors' profession is well represented,
They always are out when they are not prevented.
Which of the number to ride is the harder —
Marshall of Wickford, or Billericay Carter?

From the " Hatch of the Pilgrim " comes a neat man,
His name I won't mention, for guess it you can ;
He rides his brown hunter with judgment and care,
He knows well his value — he's a *' sort " very rare.

There's a Paddy from Brentwood, who's fond of the

chase,
The belle Emerald Isle ever boasts a keen race.
With the staghounds he used to go very well,
Now he's sure to be in at Reynard's death knell.

Old Hornchurch sends three, who each ride a grey :
They are bound to drop in for a pretty long day ;
May they stick to the sport and never say die !
And long hear of the pack the melodious cry !

From Mascalls here's one, who has joined us of late :
With Essex and hunting he has cast in his fate ;
Excuse an old line — I must beat a retreat —
" He's a good'un to follow : a bad'un to beat !"

I must not forget the Vet., Henry L ,

Who always has got a nice one to sell ;

His hands and his nerve are uncommonly good —

He cuts out the work, whate'er be his mood.

Of Yeomen, I am sorry to say, we've but few.
But those that we have are good men and true —
Davis, Crush, Asplin, Offin, and Gale —
They all go like birds in the South Essex vale.

72 HUNTING RECOLLECTIONS.

Danbury's fair Common sends a Captain who's

"Rash"—
I'm afraid he will say I have written real trash,
For of sportsmen and sport he knows well how to write,
Of his huntings descriptions we oft have a sight.

I must close up my tale with the Hunt Secretary,
Who constantly says the subscriptions do vary.
In his love for the sport to no man he yields —
He hopes for subscriptions and jolly large fields.

WHO-WHOOP!

CONCLUSION.

The first of my series of Hunting Recollec-
tions is finished, but I hope, if you have not
found the present volume very tedious, you will
have patience, and remember how trying is the
day on which one resumes hunting at the begin-
ning of the season. One is unused to saddles
and clothes, and even the horses show an un-
pleasant mixture of laziness and bumptiousness.
We are none of us sorry to find the day is over,
but when the business becomes a little more
familiar again, it is quite a different thing, and
so I hope the next volume will not be so irk-
some, and scent will improve as the season
advances.

a

Hunting Kecollecfions/'

BY

Miss "PAWKE:.

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