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THE GREAT HUNTSMAN

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HOUND AND HORN,

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Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medici
Cummings Schoc! of Veterinary Medicine a'
Tufts University
200 Westboro Road
Nortii Grafton, MA 01536

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(jr.OKGP: CAHTKH,

/ETAT 79.
FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BULL OF PETERBOROUGH,

HOUND AND HOKN;

oil,

THE LIFE AND RECOLLECTIONS

OF

(§eoige Carter,

THE GREAT HUNTSMAN.

By I. H. G. 5 'f

LONDON
SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO.,

STATIONEES' HALL COURT.
1885

c

\5

KiCHARD Clay <fe Sons

BREAD STREET HILL, LONDON E.G.
And at Bungay Suffolk.

PREFACE.

The preface is of no value beyond giving the
author an opportunity of button-holing the reader
before starting, just to warn him that this is not
a " sporting book " in the common sense of the
word, and that he is not and does not aspire to
be a " sporting (?) writer," one of those who claim
to be experts in describing a run, in the story
whereof there is little or no clue about the weather,
the wind, the scent, the line of country, and the
finding and hunting and death of the fox — the only
details which interest the real sportsman — though
there is a great deal about "that prince of sports-
men," the master, the writer's joy at seeing Lord
and Lady So-and-so in the saddle, and Miss Dinah
on her pony, Daisy charming as ever, &c., &c. This
class of writer aggravates real sportsmen, who look

vi PREFACE.

with silent contempt on the " padding " of which
so-called " account of runs " mainly consists, the
writers whereof take in vain the names of a whole
county - side — themselves not knowing a lady or
gentleman in the shire — who talk familiarly about
huntsmen and whips as " Charley This," and " Bill
That," and degrade the fox by designating him as
" Reynard," " Charley," " Sly boots," &c., &c.

This kind of " chatter " though vulgar, is harm-
less, and is only alluded to en imssant.

Speaking in the first person, I have not aspired
to write any book, nor have I scribbled sensa-
tional nonsense for the public. I have only jotted
down the things I have heard from one of the
finest huntsmen that ever carried a horn, whose
only thought was with his hounds, whose horn was
only touched when required, and who, while he rode
well to the last, and boldly I believe in his former
years (but that was before my acquaintance with him)
looked upon his horse simply as a means of carrying
him up to the hounds, expecting, of course, to be
mounted on an animal capable of so doing while it
wanted little guidance from him. He never once

PREFACE. vii

thought whether there was a fence to be " negotiated "
(that I believe is " Mr. Gent's " expression), or whether
he had simply to ride over the open. In all my hours
with Carter during a period of nineteen years, and we
were much together, he rarely mentioned his horse at
all, unless I happened to call his attention to some
particular animal which he might have ridden, and
then his reply was generally " Oh, yes, 'twere a very
good one, and carried me well for two, three, or more
seasons," as the case might be, but not one word about
" I rode him, or her, over a five-barred gate, or a
double flight of posts and rails, or a brook a quarter
of a mile wide."

Having myself been born and bred in the centre
of the Tedworth Hunt, and being familiar with
every inch of the country, which was " the happy
hunting ground " of George Carter for very many
years of his life, it struck me that many of the
real sportsmen of England might like to read some
of the old man's opinions and recollections of sport,
together with his experiences of old fashions and
new. This book simply professes to be jottings of
the old huntsman's fireside talk to myself, from time

viii PREFACE.

to time, during very many years, and of little events
of which I can speak from personal experience.

In alluding to the dead I have kept before me
the old golden rule, "De mortuis," &c. ; in alluding
to the living, if I have said a word which may
occasion to any one a moment's jDain, I trust I may
have the benefit of its being attributed to inad-
vertence, and that the person or persons who may
be aggrieved will consider that my apology has
been tendered before demanded. So now let us
leave the Preface, and get on with

The Life and Recollections of

GEORGE CARTER,
THE GREAT HUNTSJVIAN.

HOUND AND HORN;

OR, THE

LIFE AND RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER.

George Carter was born of respectable parents
in the village of Bromfield, near Ludlow, Salop, on
November 29th, 1792, and at an early age showed a
true love for the noble science with which his whole
after-life was so closely associated.

According to his own account he used, while quite
a boy, to " mouch " from school, to run with a pack of
harriers in the neighbourhood whenever the oppor-
tunity offered. These repeated acts of truantry,
coming to the ears of the home-rulers, and not meet-
ing with their approval, caused such a disruption in
the family circles, that young George left his father's
house, and took service with Mr. Forrester of Elmley,
to look after horses, make himself generally useful
about the stables, with the chance of an occasional
mount as whip to the harriers ; and after some time

B

2 HOUND AND HORN ;

he looked after the pack altogether. This was his first
entry.

We find him next at Mickletown, about the ag^e of
twenty, where he had the management of a pack of
harriers, kept by the Rev. Mr. Graves, and after about
two years' service with this gentleman he laid by the
horn for a time, and took to farming. But his heart
was still in hunting, and, finding his new occupation
not so profitable as he supposed, he again found service
in the saddle, donning the red coat and cap in
preference to the green, and became whip to the
Warwickshire, with Mr. Shirley as " master," and Jack
Wood as " huntsman." This was about the year 1823.
What may have been his reason for leaving this service
is of little consequence, but about 1825 he again
returned to harriers kept by Mr. West ; and in 1827
he entered the service of his Grace the Dake of
Grafton, as whip, under Ned Rose. Here he con-
tinued till 1831, when he got his promotion by going
to the Honourable Grantley Berkeley, who at that
time hunted the Oakley. This was his first appear-
ance as huntsman. In 1833 he once more returned
to the Duke of Grafton, and here he carried the horn
in his Grace's country.

A continued service of twelve years with such a
pack and in such a country soon established his

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 3

reputation, and on his Grace's hounds being sold in
18-42 the Squire of Tedworth secured the lot, with
the understanding that George Carter was to come
with them, or, as it is said he expressed it, ''He
bought the hounds and George Carter." As Mr.
Assheton Smith hunted his own hounds four days a
week, the remaining two were assigned to George
Carter with a third pack, and every Wednesday
throughout the season found him in Wherwell Wood,
which he rented of the Vine, and on Saturday he
was at the extreme southern side, or rather a part
which Mr. Smith secured from the New Forest Hunt.
This country extended from Speerywell to Clarendon
Park, or beyond it.

It was said of Mr. Assheton Smith, that his erreat
ambition was to have it recorded of him that he had
hunted hounds at eighty years of age, but this he never
accomplished. About two years before his death,
finding^ himself no lonojer able to do so much in the
saddle, he presented one pack to the Craven, cut his
OAvn hunting days with the Tedworth down to four in
the week, and left the entire management to George
Carter. On the death of Mr. Assheton Smith, the
hounds were left in the country, and a committee of
management was formed, with the Marquis of
Ailesbury as master, and in 1865, when the old

b2

4 HOUND AND HORN ;

huntsman had attained to the age of seventy-three
years, and it being considered by the committee that
the post was becoming too arduous for him, George
Carter was persuaded to retire, though rather against
his will, when he took up his residence in the village
of Milton, in Pewsey Yale. But still the same love
of the old sport burned bright within him, and the
hearty greetings which always awaited him at the
coverside, whenever he came out with the old pack,
or with any other pack in the neighbourhood, showed
how he still carried wdth him the respect and esteem
of all, from the highest to the lowest.

As a huntsman, whether in the kennel or in the
field, George Carter has never been surpassed. Of a
fine commanding figure, which he carried upright as
a dart almost to the last, whether he were on foot or
in the saddle; with a sedate and rather stern ex-
pression of countenance, till his face lighted up with
a smile ; wuth a wonderful rich cheery voice, and with
a manner noted for its courtesy, he showed that he was
a man who never forgot himself by taking a liberty
and one with whom no one but a fool or a madman
would venture on an impertinent familiarity. George
Carter stood as it were alone, or at least one of that
very rare class called "nature's gentlemen." He was
twice married and had a numerous family; three

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CAETER. 6

of his sons have followed the same line of life as
himself; George, well known with the Fitzwilliam,
John, who has tried his fortunes with various packs
abroad, and Charles, the youngest, who, it is to be
hoped, will tread in his father's footsteps.

As the whole of George Carter's life may be gathered
in reading what follows in his Recollections, little more
need be said here. Those recollections speak of his
doings in the various countries in which he hunted,
and as he was a man of the strictest integrity, of the
most simple modesty, and of a most wonderful memory,
there was with him no dressing up tales of his per-
formances, no exaggeration, but a true and unvarnished
account. As one, who while he won his bread and
earned his livelihood by hunting, dearly loved the sport
for hunting's sake and nothing else, we have brought
the old man down to the end of his professional career,
and it was after his relinquishing the horn and retiring
into private life, that these Recollections of his former
days have been gathered from his own mouth, and now
sent forth to the public by one who, of somewhat
kindred spirit, treasured every one of his kind old
mentor's words, and would scorn to be aught but a
faithful scribe to so faithful a narrator.

CHAPTER I.

If any one were to ask me, "How loDg have you
known George Carter ? " the natural answer to the
inquiry would be, " Since the beginning of 1846,"
which was the date of my first coming back to reside
in the home of my first childhood and within the limits
of the Tedworth Hunt. It was about four years pre-
vious to this that George came to Mr. Assheton Smith's,
but at that time he acted as kennel-huntsman, and
had his own two regiilar days, with the third pack ;
and as one of those days in every week (Wednesday)
was invariably Wherwell Wood, and • the other
(Saturday) on the extreme south part of the country
that was rented, or at least hunted, by the Tedworth
pack, though belonging to the Kew Forest country,
I had but little opportunity of making any very
intimate acquaintance with the great huntsman, whose
memoirs or recollections I am now endeavouring to

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CAETER. 7

commit to paper, and it was only on some chance
occasion when Mr. Assheton Smith was prevented from
hunting, that Carter carried the horn with either of the
Squire's special packs on the other days of the week.
Still one occasionally went to the kennels, or came
across the huntsman in some way or other, or it
might be that Mr. Smith would come out "a gentle-
man," as I believe he expressed it, and hand over
the hunting of his own pack, for the day, to
George Carter.

But after a while old age began to tell on the Squire
of Ted worth, and though he fought against the attacks
of time most manfully, and was very anxious, as was
reported, to have it handed down to posterity that he
had hunted his own hounds at fourscore, for once the
sturdy will of Mr. Assheton Smith had to give in ; and
some two years previous to his death, having disposed
of the third pack, or rather presented them to the
Craven Hunt, he cut down his own days of hunting to
four, and gave up the horn to George Carter.

From that time till 1865, George Carter acted
regularly as huntsman, and in that capacity one had
a better opportunity of becoming acquainted with him
in every part of the Ted worth country ; but still it was
not till a much later period, when he retired from active
life, that I formed what may be truly called a strong aud

8 HOUND AND HORN ;

lasting friendship with the dear old man, which never
was broken for an hour, and which only grew and
increased with time.

Grand and upright as his figure was in the saddle,
cheery and musical as was his voice, dignified as was
his manner, he never forgot that he was a servant, and
combined dignity with a most respectful deportment.
But all this was as nothing to what I found him to be
in his private life, and it was after his retirement that
I first really began to know George Carter, and to
appreciate the society of one, who, while he possessed
every kind of knowledge of the noble science, and was
never surpassed either as kennel or field huntsman, was
utterly without conceit, and remarkable for his quiet,
unassuming manner. It was a matter of great con-
gratulation to myself that George Carter should have
fixed upon Milton as his place of residence, and it was
not long after his arrival, and his getting himself settled
down in his new quarters, that I paid him the first formal
visit ; and, as was very natural, our conversation soon
turned upon hounds and hunting. But this was not
as I found, " all serene" at starting. The old man — for
old he was (seventy-three) — could not quite understand
his being " turned out," as he expressed it. And there
was naturally some little jealousy at seeing "Jack,"
who has been his pupil from a boy, usurping the place

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 9

at Ted worth which he still felt competent to fill.
Nor did this feeling altogether die away for some
time ; and for more than one season after his appoint-
ment as huntsman I observed that Jack Fricker did
not often return home from the Oare Hill side of the
country through Milton ; and I always fancied there
was not the best possible feeling towards him from my
old friend. Now, I won't take credit for a moment
for anything which might have occurred in after years,
but I am thankful to say this feeling gradually dis-
appeared, and I believe the present huntsman of the
Tedworth never after this felt more pleasure than
when he could come home by Milton, and stop, if
only for a few^ moments, jiist to let " Master " — as
I believe he always addressed him — know what he
had done.

As the hunting seasan came round, after his coming
to reside at Milton, I hoped that George Carter would
have occasionally come out with the old pack, as he
had a " tidy cottage," as he expressed it, with stabling,
&c., about six acres of meadow land, and he had
also a very nice easy galloway kind of horse, which
had been sent to him by his son Andrew ; but at first
it was no go with him, and if I remember right, it was
not till the second year of his being at Milton that
I could prevail on him to show his face at the covert

10 HOUND AND HOEN ;

side. The ice once broken, it was all right ; and after
that, as he generally had a nice easy horse of his own
or a mount from some one of his friends, I always
looked for a ride to covert on a Tuesday and possibly
Thursday morning, with dear old George Carter ; and
proud I felt at seeing the greetings on all sides, as we
appeared together at the meet. The red coat and
cap ^vere, after a time, but not at first, as will be seen,
once more in the right place ; and it -was a question
whether they most became the old man, or he them.
His seat in the saddle was as good as ever, and his
voice had lost nothing of its rich and musical note ; but
it was in the evening of a hunting or non-hunting day,
during the season, that I always looked forward to my
chat with old Carter. During the summer I saw him
every day and all day, as it might happen ; but as the
days drew in and hounds were out, I rarely missed
that last hour or so before going in for the evening
meal ; and six o'clock, or thereabouts, regularly found
me in old George Carter's snug parlour, just to have
a talk of hunting, or something connected with it;
and then I gathered the incidents of his former life,
as they came from his own lij)3. It is to those pleasant
half-hours that I can now look back with satisfaction ;
and the only regret is that they are days that can
never come again.

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 11

With the hope, then, that the recollections of the
old huntsman may not be altogether thrown away
on a rising generation, and that this may help
occasionally to pass away an hour that might hang
heavily, let us see how they may best be presented
to the reader.

CHAPTER II.

It was in the year 1865 that George Carter having
retired from active life, and at the age of seventy-three
thinking perhaps the duties of huntsman to a four days'
a week pack rather greater than he could manage, said
good-bye to the kennels at Tedworth, and sought in the
quiet little village of Milton a home for his latter years.
There was a very comfortable house, quite sufficient for
his own wants and that of his family, with stabling,
sheds, yards, &c., adjoining, and about six acres of good
pasture land attached, which had a short time previously
been bought by a very well-known and respected char-
acter in the Tedworth Hunt, one Mr. Caleb Symonds,
who had for many years held the office of head game-
keeper, and afterwards park keeper, or verderer, as I
always chose to designate him, to the Marquis of Ailes-
bury, at Savernake Forest. The forest used, within
my recollection, to be hunted by the Craven, and I have
heard George Carter say that Mr. Smith had offered old
Lord Ailesbury, the father of the present and late

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 13

marquis, one of whom was then Earl Bruce, and the
other Lord Ernest Bruce, five hundred a year to hunt it.
The late marquis, however, would not upset the old
arrangement, and so it was not till after Mr. Smith's
death that Savernake, or Marlborough Forest, as it is
generally called, with all that side of the country,
came into the Tedworth Hunt.^ Mrs. Smith, it must
be remembered, gave the hounds to the country,
so that it might still continue to be hunted. And
so it was that a committee was formed for manage-
ment, with Lord Ailesbury as chairman, and nominal
master of the hounds. Carter and Caleb Symonds
were well known to each other, and it was very
natural that when the retired huntsman was looking
about for a home, and the verderer had a place to
suit him standing empty, that the two should soon
come to terms, and so it was that George Carter
came to live at Milton. His family consisted of Mrs.
Carter his second wife, three daughters and his
youngest son Charley, a smart little fellow of about
fourteen and a splendid rider. The rest of his family,
. and there were very many of them, were all away, and
as it is said, " out in the world." Here then old George

^ I have not entered into any detail of arrangement as to how the
forest, &c., has been hunted by the Tedworth hounds, as this is a
matter with which the general public have nothing to do.

14 HOUND AND HORN ;

Carter "kennelled himself," as he expressed it. And
here, too, about six o'clock in the evening during the
winter months, after his tea, he used to get into his
easy chair on one side of the fire — the hearth swept
up, the room put tidy, and the lamp lighted — and on
the opposite side of the fire stood another easy chair,
empty. Gentle reader, have you ever seen a fire ? or
do you know what a good fire is ? Possibly you think
you do. I have certainly seen many in Wiltshire, in
the old farm-houses, years ago, when the fire was of
wood, great " flocks " burnt on the hearth on dogs,
and the chimney corner was a warm and comfortable
spot. None of your carpeted best parlours, or what-
ever you may call them, with a little fiddle-faddle
stove or grate, that throws out little heat and plenty
of smoke if the wind is anywhere but in one quarter,
and that never the rig-ht one. Well, Georsfe Carter
did burn his fire in a grate, it is true, but it was
generally of wood, and he or his family knew how the
fire should be made up, and if it was not prcpeoiy
made up — well, the old huntsman perhaps, had not
fors^otten altoo-ether how to " rate."

We will fancy, then, a cold evening in December,
or, at all events, in the winter, room cheery, fire
burning bright, old huntsman sitting in his easy chair,
Mrs. Carter, " a nice tidy 'ooman," (I always like to

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 15

quote my old friend's own words), at needlework at
the table, girls doing something about the house,
Charley, well, not in mischief, when comes a knock
with a stick or whip-handle against the door ; with a
" Yoi-doit there ! " " Come in, sir, here's yerr kennel
waiting for ye." And with a cheery greeting from
the old man, and a smile of recognition, all round,
" the kennel," or the easy chair, on the opposite side
of the fire, becomes tenanted, and then we know what
will quickly follow. We will suppose it to have been
a hunting day, when the writer of these memoirs
should have been out with the hounds and the old
huntsman, for some reason or other, not having been
out. The first question, of course after the greeting
all round, comes from the old man, " Well, sir, I beg
y'r pardon " ; now, reader, please to remark this, I am
going to stick to George Carter's words or expressions,
all through. I have said he was never wanting in respect
to any one ; he was a man of great dignity of manner,
but with it he combined that happy knack of never
forgetting himself, especially when he was, as he said,
" talking to a gentleman." He never took a liberty with
any one, and no one ever dared to try it on with him.
He was truly one of " nature's gentlemen," even if he
was, as he said, " only a servant." This was his own
way of putting it. So now to work.

CHAPTER III.

"Well, sir, I beg y'r pardon, what have ye done

to-day ? " •

" Oh ! a very fair day's sport, old friend. We found
a fox just beyond Pomfrey's Gorse, brought him across
the bottom towards the middle ride, knocked him about
a bit in the further quarter, till at last we brought him
out, as I thought, for Clench Common : but he turned
away across the open for the top of Care Hill, and then
all along the down for Huish Hill and Copher Wood,
and then sunk the hill, for you know where. Who-
whoop, and no blood ! "

O.H. " Now, sir, I beg y'r pardon ; you see that fox
kept creeping about till he gets the ground foiled, and
then he slipt away with a side wind, sir, as may be so,
(and up comes the poker, and with it the O.H. seems to
point out the line). Well, sir, when he got to the top o'
Oare Hill, he know'd the earth, in the bottom under

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CARTER. 17

Gopher Wood, and so that took him up-ivind ; and if
that earth had been ' Put-too' ^ as it ought to have
been, you'd ha 'caught him' before he could ha got
back to the West Woods. Oh dear, dear, I do know
all about it, and so I ought, for I've a-hunted all
my life, and if I hadn't I shouldn't ha' been here
now. Ahem ! " (N.B. — This is intended to represent
a peculiar clearing of the throat, and one of the old
man's peculiarities.)

Now, gentle reader, having established a kind of
precedent in the huntsman's parlour, and the easy chairs
or kennels, or what not, we will suppose ourselves there
on any evening in the winter, and to the best of my
ability I will give some of the recollections as they come
across me. Let it not be considered a want of good
taste if George Garter did not consider the late Mr.
Assheton Smith quite such a demi-god as some people
might suppose him or wish him to have been. The old
Squire of Tedworth had doubtless many good points of
character, and kept up a splendid establishment at his
own expense for everybody who cared for hunting to
enjoy; but George Garter lived with him for over
sixteen years, and knew pretty well the ins and outs
of his character, but you may draw your own inference
from what may follow in these pages.

1 Pronounced as "but."

C

18 HOUND AND HORN ;

" How do you think the hounds will go on, old friend,
without the old Squire ? "

" Well, sir, I beg y'r pardon, I don't see why they

shouldn't do very well, if they've got money enough.

He'd plenty o' that, and he would ride ; for, you see,

he were a wonderful horseman, but his ways and mine

didn't always agree. I liked to find a fox, have an hour

and a-half with him, or more, and then kill him if I

could, and, somehow or other I generally could do that ;

but you see, sir, Mr. Smith used to say, ' What's the

good of caddling about after a fox all day ? ' and if he

hunted one for forty minutes and didn't catch him, why

then he gave him up, and went and tried for another ;

and as soon as he had tired one horse, he had another

to get on, and so it didn't signify : but / always knew

what Mr. Smith's hounds were. Why, then, I remember

one day we met at Weyhill, and Mr. Smith came out as

* a gentleman,' and I hunted the hounds. Well, sir, we

found a fox at Ramridge, and knocked him about a bit

to Appleshaw, and on to Chute Lodge, and 'twere a

' mighty muddlin scent ; ' and at last the hounds could

hardly hunt him at all; and just before we come to

Chute Lodge there were a bit o' plough, and I see

a hound called 'Nabob,' feathering up a furrow, and

none o' the others could own it ; but I know'd he were

right, so I just said quietly, *Heic, Nabob, heic !

> >>

■ EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 19

" What are ye ' heicing ' for there ? " says Mr. Smith.

"I beg y'r pardon, sir," I says, "but you see Nabob
has got the line ; he cant speak to it on the plotigli, but
as soon as we get on the grass they will all open. And
sure enough, sir, as soon as we got to the park palings,
and through, away they went, and we killed our fox
after a good hunting run. Oh ! he were a good hound,
were Nabob, and I remember him well. Well, sir,
you've heard me tell the story about killing a fox at
Ham Spray; I remember the day well, for I hunted
the hounds that day, and we met at Collingbourne
Wood, and found a fox down by Coldred End, or near
the saw-pit ; and after knocking him about in the
wood, he went away towards Conholt, and just skirted
Fosbury, and right on for Combe Wood and Buttermere
Gorse. Well, sir, I were in the lower end of the wood,
and the hounds were running pretty well, when I heard
' Tally-ho ! tally-ho ! ' Well, sir, I know'd 'twere Mr.
Smith, so up I come. You knew them yew trees, sir,
atop of Buttermere Wood : well, there sat Mr. Smith, on
his horse tally-ho-ing ; so I rode up and touched my
cap, and said, 'I beg y'r pardon, sir, have you seen
the fox ? ' "

" Seen the fox ! No, George. I only hallooed to Tcnow
where you had got to!'

" Oh dear, dear ; I were quite ashamed of him. Well,

c 2

20 HOUND AND HOEN ;

sir, I never took the hounds off, so I got back pretty
quick, and we soon got away and over the hill, and
down through the edge of Bull's Copse — you do know
Bull's Copse, sir, on the hanging, and there is a big-
earth in it ; and I know'd the earth would be open, for
you see 'tis in the Craven country : and on we took him
to Ham Spray. Well, sir, here he were beat, and I
know'd if they were let alone they must kill him; so
I says, * Cowley, Cowley,^ you come out here.' So
Cowley and me just kept about a hundred yards or
so outside the wood, between that and Bull's Copse, for
I know'd he'd try to get back there and go to ground ;
when presently I just see his nose poke outside, and
I. put up my whip, as may be so (here suppose the
poker work again) and says, ' No, no, no ; you mustn't
come here.' And we kept him back, and the hounds
soon caught him, and we run that fox two hours and a
half, and then we went home ; and I'll tell you, sir, who

were out that day, and that were Lord Rosslyn."

"Do you remember, old friend, the day you killed

your fox somewhere about Stockbridge, from the

Weyhiil side o' the country ? "

" Ay, and indeed I do, and I hunted the hounds

that day. We met, you see, sir, at Chute Lodge, and

Mr. Henry Fowle, if he were alive, poor man, would

1 First Whip.

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 21

remember it well. Well, sir, we found in the Gorse,
and went away towards Chute windmill, and on to
Limmers, and from there to Conholt Park, and when
we got to Conholt Park we run him right round and
out right away for Weyhill, and on for Lord Win-
chester's place ; you do know it, sir, though his lordship
don't hunt."

" Amport ? " I suggest.

"That's it, sir; oh, dear, dear me, 1 am getting
quite forgetful ; well, sir, we run him from there, away
for Clatford Oakcuts, and on for Stockbridsfe, and
killed him on Houghton Down, and then we were
some way from home."

"Why that must have been as good a run as you
had once with the Duke of Grafton, after the mishap
with the vixen."

"Ah, dear, dear me, and I remember that well.
'Twere on the 13th o' April, and we found a fox in
Jarvis's Gorse, near Newport Pagnell, and we didn't
know there were a vixen there, or any cubs laid down.
Well, you see, sir, the fox wouldn't go away, so the
hounds cauo:ht her, and when I went in to take tbe fox
away, oh dear, dear, I see 'twere a vixen that had cubs,
and all of a sudden I see the whip, as were with me,
dive down amongst some long sedgy grass in the cover,
and he picked up two poor little cubs, only a few days

22 HOUXD AND HOKN ;

old, and put 'em in his pocket, and there were two
more, but the hounds got hold o' them before he could
save 'em, and you know the rest, sir. \Vell, we were
very sad, and just at that moment a fox were halloed
away at the end of the Gorse, but we didn't hurry
much, for I tell you, sir, arter that poor vixen, we
didn't care to go after him, but the duke called to me
to get the hounds out quick — as he didn't know what
had happened — and then I was obliged to go. Well,
sir, our fox had a pretty good start, but we soon settled
on his line, and he went straight as straight, and arter
we had been running him some time a gentleman
farmer, who lived on the outside of the duke's country,
says to me, ' George, I believe we've got a Creslow
fox/ ' Oh no, sir,' says I, ' that's a long way off.'
Well, sir, we run that fox straight into the Creslow
country, and that's in the Vale o' Aylesbury, and there
we run him to earth, in Creslow great ground. Oh !
it were a beautiful run, 'twere about two hours and
twenty minutes ; but there, 'twere eighteen miles from
where he came from, in Jarvis's Gorse, I remember
it well."

" And how about the little cubs, old man ? "
" Why, sir, I'll tell ye ; the whip give 'em to a
keeper of the duke's, and a very good sort o' man
he was, and he took 'em home, and give 'em to his

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 23

wife, a very tidy 'ooman, and she had a cat with
kittens, and she took away the kittens and put the
cubs to the cat, and she brought 'em up, and they
used to play about the house quite tame, till after a
time they got away."

CHAPTER TV.

''What did you think of Wherwell Wood, old friend,
as a place for hunting, for you must have known it
pretty well ? "

"Well, sir, Wherwell Wood were a very nice place to
make young hounds, at all times when it had fair play
and been let alone, it was a fine place for hunting,
and would alwaj^s hold a fox, and after Christmas
when foxes began to travel and move about, we always
had a plenty as came from other places, and some very
good runs I've had from there, for, as you know, sir,
I was always there, every Wednesday. Well, 3^ou see,
sir, as soon as I got into the wood and began to cheer
'em a bit, if there were an old travelling fox near, as
soon as he heard my voice or the horn he would think
' Well, here's old Carter come out arter me and I must
be off or he'll catch me,' and away he'd go at once, and
as soon as the hounds got settled to him, away they

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 25

went, with old Carter after him, and very often he
did manage to catch him too. Oh ! a nice place were
Wherwell Wood, when it had fair play ; but that was
not always. Why, sir, I call to mind a man to Avhom
Mr. Smith give ten pounds a year to look after the foxes,
and he did look after 'em in his oivn way, for, burn
the rogue ! he killed every one he could catch hold on.
Why, sir, I remember, sir, one season, the last day o'
hunting, we were just a-going home, and that man
come up to me and says, ' Well, Carter, I suppose we
shan't see you here any more this season, so if you
like to come down to the " Lilly Roarer " (White
Lion), I'll stand you a glass.' Well, sir, I looked him
straight in the face and said, ' Have ye got such a
thing then as a shilling about ye? for if ye have you
just go down to the collymaker's, and buy a cord and
hang yourself, for I'll be blessed if I'll drink with ye.'
I beg your pardon, sir, but lie, a man, to take ten
pounds of Mr. Smith's money and then kill foxes.
But I remember once, sir, a carious thing about
Wherwell Wood. You know, sir, I hunted Wherwell
Wood every Wednesday and Mr. Smith stayed at
home, or went out a-visiting, or some such thing, but
sometimes he would come out, as a gentleman, he used
to say. Oh dear, oh dear. Well, sir, I beg your
pardon, one day we were at Wherwell Wood and Mr.

26 HOUND AND HORN ;

Smith were out, and we very soon found a fox, and the
hounds hunted hirn round and round once or twice,
till at last he seemed to think, ' Well, I must be off or
old Carter will catch me/ and out he come over the road
and into the next field, where, behold, there were a
sheepfold, and a shepherd and his dog, for 'twere
lambing time you see, sir; well, the fox see the
shepherd if the shepherd didn't see the fox, and back
he turns again and into the wood ; well, sir, Mr. Smith
sees that the fox were headed, but he know'd the
shepherd were only a-doing his duty and minding his
master's property, so he didn't say anything to him ;
and we knocked the fox about a bit in the wood again,
when out he comes a little lower down, and as we
come out the hounds couldn't carry it over the road,
but one or two feathered a bit, and got back into the
wood ; and in the road were an old lady in a red cloak
coming along with a bundle. Well, Mr. Smith rode up
to her, and says, 'Have you seen the fox, my good
woman ? ' ' Yes, sir,' says she, ' he comed out just
there,' pointing to the place, 'and then turned back
again in there where the dogs be.' Well, sir, Mr.
Smith looks at the old woman, and says, ' I don't wish
you any harm, madam, and you looks pretty well, only
I wishes you had been at home, and abed' and off he
goes. Oh ! I did laugh. Well, sir, Ave gave that fox

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CARTER. 27

another turn round the wood and he come away again,
and the third time there were no shepherd, and no
ould 'ooman in the way, and we ran him nearly to
Doles, and there we catched him ; oh I 'twere a
beautiful run, and I remember it well. How far, sir,
should I call it to Wherwell Wood from Tedworth ?
Well, you can just see it, on a clear day, from
Ashton Copse, but you must go by Clatford and over
the water, and then the wood is more than two miles
through, but I've heard the faggoters say when they've
been at work at Ashton Copse, and sat down quiet at
their dinner hour, if the wind were in the right quarter,
they could hear old Carter's voice in Wherwell Wood,
and sometimes the horn, and 'tis a matter o' many
miles as the crow flies ; but there, I shall never hallo
a fox in Wherwell Wood again ; but, sir, I am very
thankful that I am as w^ell as 1 am, and able to get
about. O yes, I am very thankful."

CHAPTER V.

" You must have come across a good many characters
in your thne ? "

"Ah, I believe I have, sir — some good and some
very bad ones, but I never found a man that was
fond o' fox-hunting but had some good about him.
Why, there were Mr. Grantley Berkeley, he were a
very odd man, and he hunted his own hounds most
days when he kept the Oakley, and I were with him
as kennel-huntsman. But thouo-h he hunted the
hounds himself, I were generally out with him.
Well, sir, a gentleman may do all very well for a
time, but 'twill beat him in the end. 'Tis a servant's
work to hunt hounds, as he has to be here, there, and
everyAvhere, while others be standing still or sitting
about. Well, sir, Mr. Berkeley were a very good sort
o' man, but he were a great dandy, and I don't like
a dandy, he be afear'd o' dirtjdng his boots, or spoiling

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CARTER. 29

his coat. Why, sir, I remember one day the hounds
were in Odel Wood — oh, and a fine large cover it were 1
— and as I were coming up a ride, as the hounds were
running, I see Mr. Berkeley off his horse, and were
stooping down. Well, sir, 'twere towards the end o' the
season in April, and I thought Mr. Berkeley had met
with some accident, or had ' tumbled off,' so I rode
up and said, ' I beg your pardon, sir, I hope there be
nothing wrong ; ' and he looked up and said, ' Oh, look
here, George, at these beautiful violets ; I couldn't help
just picking a few to put in my hutton-Jiole! Oh dear,
dear, dear 1 and he a-hunting the hounds, and they
a-running, and to stop to pick violets ! I was quite
ashamed of him. Well, sir, I know'd a good many
clergymen, as hunted regularly, and very good sports-
men some of them were. Why, sir, there were a
Mr. Graves, who were a clergyman, and he kept
harriers, that I lived with ; but he weren't much of
a horseman. Then there were Mr. Dickins, as you
know'd, who afterwards lived in Kent. He had a place
called Wollaston Hall, in Noithamptonshire, but he
never lived there, poor man ! and I fear lived too fast
elsewhere ; but I know'd him, and he comed to stay
with Mr. Knatchbull at Cholderton Lodge, and hunted
with Mr. Smith, and a very good sportsman he were.
Well, sir, I remember once — it were just after Christ-

30 HOUND AND HORN ;

mas, and we had a hard frost, and couldn't hunt much
— Mr. Smith says to me, ' Carter, there is Mr. Dickins
a-staying with Mr. Knatchhull, and wants to see my
hounds, so you bring all the hounds you can to Sidbury
Hill o' Monday.' Well, sir, I know'd Mr. Smith were
a very odd man, but on the Monday morning we met
at Sidbury Hill. The frost was too hard to ride much,
but I took fifty-nine couple out, and how Mr. Dickins
did laugh ! There were plenty o' foxes then, you know,
sir, at Sidbury Hill, for there were plenty o' lieing, and
they were very soon hunting all over the place, there
were no keeping 'em together. Oh, dear me, what
a sight it were ! I shall never forget it. And how
Mr. Dickins did laugh ! Oh, he were very nice
company — but there, you knows all about him. sir,
for you were with him in Kent. Then there were
Mr. Loraine Smith, he were a clerg3rman, and a ver}^
odd one too; and then there were the Bishop of
Worcester, who I know'd, and he kept hounds, and
Sam Jones were his huntsman, and I went to school
with his son. And oh, a many more, and some, sir,
that yoto knows. Ha ! ha ! yoto stick to fox-hunting,
sir ; I've said so times and times ; there's nothing like
it. Oh, if I hadn't hunted all my life, I should never
ha' been here now. Then, sir, there were Colonel
Lascelles, as you remembers, a mighty big man with

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 81

a black patch over one eye, as used to live at the
* White Hart ' at Andover all the winter, and hunted
every day with the Tedworth ; and it were wonderful
the long distances he would come to meet the hounds,
and I've know'd his being at New Mill — and that
must have been twenty mile — and he always rode
to cover and back again after hunting; and then,
poor man ! he never could ride up to hounds much
if they went away, for he were said to be over
twenty stone ; but he was very fond of hunting, but
he never attended to his condition and put on a
deal of flesh. Oh dear, dear ; but he were a very
good man, and everybody liked him. And then
there were General Shubrick who used to live at
the ' Star/ and he were a mighty little man, and he
kept fourteen hunters, and as many grooms ; and all he
thought about was to see his horses prance about along
the roads, and he used to have 'em all out in a string
when he didn't hunt, and make the grooms ride 'em
about for his amusement ; and besides that, he used to
have their pictures taken, and give 'em away to all his
friends. And then there were a Mr. Kerrish, a clergy-
man, somewhere down in Somersetshire, or Dorsetshire,
and he used to come to Whittlebury Forest, when I was
with the Duke of Grafton, for a week or so, and he
always had three good hunters, and he hunted four

32 HOUND AND HORN ;

days a week, and shot t'other two; but then he had
no family, and plenty of money, and was a ^'ery good
clergyman too, I believe. And then there were Mr.
Knatchbull, of Cholderton Lodge, and Mr. Henry
Fowle, of Chute Lodge ; but there, you know'd both
o' them, and good sportsmen they were, and very fond
o' hunting ; bat I know'd Mr. Knatchbull before you,
when he were a young man, and curate of Fritwell, in
Oxfordshire, and he used sometimes to hunt with us
then. And then there were Mr. William Etwall, but
Mr. Smith didn't like him, nor he Mr. Smith. 'Twern't
everybody that Mr. Smith did like, and I heerd tell,
for I weren't out, something about a hound being
knocked over in a ride, or something o' that, but, of
course, it might be an accident ; and then there were
something else : but there, never mind, ]\Ir. Etwall
were always a very good sort o' man I believe, and
I never know'd anything against him. And then
there were Mr. Pierrepont, of Conholt Park, and a
nice tidy, quiet man he were, and very intimate with
]\L'. Smith, though they weren't alike ; but Mr. Pierre-
pont were very fond o' hunting, and were a very neat
man in his dress, though no dandy. And then there
were another, who were very often staying with him,
and that were Lord Charles Wellesley, who married his
daughter, and who went blind, poor man ! but I can

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 33

tell you something of him. Whenever the hounds
were at Conholt Park about Christmas time, and I
were there, his lordship told his man" to take him up
to ould Carter, and he used to ask me how the hounds
were getting on, and what sport we had had, and he
always shook hands with me before leaving, and I
know'd he would leave three sovereigns there. And
there were many more that I know'd ; but there, they
are all gone, and so will poor ould Carter before long."

" But you have forgotten one other character at least,
and that is the late Squire at Tedworth."

" Oh dear, dear me, and he were an odd man, a very
odd man were Mr. Smith ; why, he were unlike any one
else, and didn't care what he did or what he said. Why
there, he used in frosty weather, when he couldn't go
a-hunting, to have down three or four horses to the ride,
and he'd make me, or Lees, or some one else, stay there,
and he'd gallop round and round, as hard as ever he
could and just in the same track, and I don't believe
he would have pulled up if any one had been in his
way. 'Twere just the same going home from hunting,
hard as ever he could gallop, when he didn't have his
carriage you know, sir. Why I've been going along quiet
with the hounds towards Sidbury Hill, coming back
from Everley that way, and I've seen Mr. Smith coming
along galloping and waving his hand, and I've said to

D

34 HOUND AND HOEN,-

Cowley, ' "We must get out o' the way, or Mr. Smith will
be right over us ; ' and he never turned either way, hut
by he went, and never took any notice of us or hound,
or anything else. Of course you know, sir, I put my
hand up to my cap as he passed, and so did Cowley.
Oh, he were a very odd man I Why, sir, I've know'd
him of a Sunday wait at the church door after the
service, and I'd try not to see him, for I know'd what
would happen; and there he'd stand till I come up,
and then I'd hear, 'George,' 'Carter' (for I didn't seem
to hear him, you know, sir, the first time) ; and Td come
up and say, ' I beg your pardon, sir, but did you wish
to speak to me ? ' And then he'd begin asking what
hounds I was a going to take out the next day, and all
about the hunting, sir, and there were the people, you
know, ail stopt back, as couldn't get out of church ; and
I'd say, ' I beg your pardon, sir, but hadn't I better come
down to the House, sir, and see you, sir, and then you
can tell me what you like ; for these good people, you
see, sir, want to get out of church, sir.' And then he'd
say, ' Oh ! do they ? Well, I suppose they do ; well, you
come down.' And then on he'd go, but he never
thought anything of it, and that too of a Sunday and
coming out o' church. Oh ! I was quite ashamed
of him.

Well, sir, you know'd Osmond the. biitcher, of

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CAETER. 35

Vernham, and a very good man were Mr. Osmond, and
always walked a pnppy ; and you know'd his blind
pony he used to ride a-hunting — well, we'll have some-
thing to say about him presently ; but I remember one
morning his coming up to Ted worth, and he corned to
my house, and I was a-talking to him in the yard, when
Mr. Smith come down to the kennel to see some young
hounds as were come in ; and while I was a showing
him the hounds, one of 'em sees Mr. Osmond — who
kept back you know, sir, for he were a tidy, well-
behaved man, as didn't push himself forward — and
the hound went up to him and jumped on him, and
Mr. Osmond says, ' Lexicon, Lexicon ' ; and Mr. Smith
turned round sharp, ' What do you know about
Lexicon ? ' 'I beg your pardon, sir/ says Mr. Osmond,
'but I walked him.' Well, Mr. Smith spoke to him
very sharp ; and then I came forward and says, ' I beg
your pardon, sir, but Mr. Osmond did walk that hound,
and he's walked a great many hounds, sir, and very
well he does 'em ; and you see, sir, the hound do know
him ' ; and he turned round to me and says, '' Oh ! did
he ? Well 1 Hum I ' — and off he went, and never said
any more. Oh, I were quite ashamed of him, and Mr.
Osmond a respectable man — but there, 'twere his way.
Well, sir, talking about Mr. Osmond, oh, he were
a very good man, and very fond o' hunting, as you

d2

36 ' HOUND AND HORN ;

know, and generally had a blind horse, but he knew
the horse and the horse knew him, and he got him
along somehow ; well, sir, his wdfe, who were a verj'
tidy woman, thought he had other things to do besides
going a fox hunting ; and I've know'd when the hounds
met at Chute Lodge, Osmond would ride up in his blue
smock, and his basket o' meat on his arm, and presently
you would see him come round from the kitchen door
without his basket and in a tidy coat, and he'd leave
the smock with the basket and come a-hunting ; and
arter 'twere over, he'd go back and pick up the basket^
and put on the blue smock again, and ride home ; hut
he clidnt tell his wife what he'd been arter, and she,
poor 'ooman, knew no better, and thought he'd been
only round with the meat-basket. But there were
another clergyman, sir, that I forgot, that you knows,
Mr. Tom Lascelles Iremonger, who lives at Clatford ;
well you know, sir, he can't see nor hear, as he's deaf
and pretty blind, but very fond of a bit of hunting.
Well, sir, I remember one day when hounds were
running at Abbotts Ann, he comes right up against
me, and almost knocked me out o' the saddle, and he
never know'd it till afterwards, till some one says to
him, ' I say, Mr. IremoDger, do you know you almost
knocked Carter over just now?' 'No, I didn't,' says
ho, 'for I haven't seen him.' 'That's very likely,' says

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 37

the gentleman, for he know'd Mr. Iremonger were
nearly blind, 'but you did, nevertheless.' Well, sir, as
soon as he heard of it, he comes up to me when he got
the opportunity, and says how sorry he was, and hoped
he hadn't hurt me, and so it all ended very well ; but
I did laugh afterwards. There, poor man, he couldn't
see, you know, sir, and he didn't mean no harm, and
he was very fond o' a bit of hunting, and a very nice
gentleman too."

CHAPTER VI.

''You Avere asking, old friend, about my puppy. I
hope she will do. The puppy grows and is getting
full of mischief; but somebody says she hopes I shall
not complain of the dressmaker's bill, as there are
many rents in the youngsters' frocks ; and as to sponges,
brushes, and stable-leathers, I won't say where they go
to ; but still she is a nice puppy, and if she is only
put forward, and I should see her recovering a line, or
making out a cold scent by and by, why, all the rest
will be forgotten. And then they are such sensible
animals, and never forget you/'

" Well, sir, I do always like to see a hound pupj^y
or two about, it shows there is a gentleman in the place,
and that's something. Why, sir, I remember a Mr.
Stone, as were a clergyman, and he lived at Ellsworth,
and a very good kind o' man he were, and lie always
walked a puppy ; and there were several farmers, as

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 39

were tenants o' the Duke of Grafton about there, for
the Duke owned a deal o' property in that country ;
and Mr. Stone had some daughters, and besides the
hound puppy they had a retriever dog or two ; and
they used to go round, and collect all the puppies from
the different houses, and walk 'em all out together.
Oh ! 'twere quite a sight, and I've seen them young
ladies come along with three or four couple, times and
times, and they so pleased; and the hounds knowed
them well, and you may depend upon it they knowed
the hounds. And as to sensible, as you say. Why, sir,
did I ever tell you about some draft-hounds I sent to
Lord Sondes, at Lees Court, near Faversham, in Kent ?
Well, sir, 'twas when I was living with the Duke of
Grafton, and Lord Sondes hunted a pack of hounds iu
East Kent, and he sent to me at Whittlebury Forest,
where our kennels were, to know if I could let him
have some draft-hounds, and if so, I were to send them
to Rockingham Castle in Northamptonshire, which
belonged to his lordship, and they were to be sent on
from there to him in Kent. Well, sir, I sent eight or
nine couple, I forget exactly which ; but there, 'tis a
many years ago ; and they were sent up to London
and on into Kent by road, for, you see. sir, there were
no railroads then. Well, the hounds got down all
right, and after some time I got a letter from Lord

40 HOUND AND HORN ;

Sondes to say he liked the hounds, but one of them,
' Anthony,' was missing and could not be found, and
that if he had got back into Northamptonshire, he
were worth all the lot init together. Well, sir, I
supposed Anthony had strayed in a strange jDlace, and
never thought to see him again, till one night just
before we were going to bed I beard a hound baying
outside by the kennel, and on going to the door I
heard him plain and I thought I knowed the note, and
so I sung out 'Anthony, Anthony.' Well, sir, in a
moment, as sure as I sit here to talk to yoa, I found
a hound's nose against my hand, for 'twas too dark to
see, and I let him in, and sure enough there was
Anthony, very poor, but I knowed him ; and after a
time I got him round by little and little, and I sent
him back again to Lord Sondes, at Lees Court in Kent,
and I never know'd but what he did very well."

" Why, old friend, I know Lees Court well ; but that
hound must have found his way through London,
unless he swam the Thames, and that's not at all
likely."

" W ell, sir, they are sensible animals. How the
hound got back I never knew, but he did get
back to Whittlebury, and I sent him to Lord Sondes
as^ain."

"Well, sir, I think I told you about a bitch we

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOUGE CARTER. 41

had called 'Julia.' You see we used to send eight
or ten couples o' bitches, in Mr. Smith's time, into
Wales every season, to whelp; and arter the railroad
were opened, we used to send them to Swindon in the
van, and then on by railroad. Well, sir, I remember
being out in the park exercising the hounds, at Ted-
worth, about two days arter we had sent off a lot o'
bitches into Wales, and I see a stray hound come across
and go into a small plantation, and I could tell at once
she were heavy in whelp ; and I says to Cowley, who
were with me, ' Cowley, what hound is that ? she's no
business here ; ' and as I came towards the plantation
I see the hounds begin to show something had crossed
before 'em, as they piit their noses down, and I says to
Cowley again, ' Why, I believe that were Julia as we
sent away,' and I called out 'Julia, Julia.' And, sure
enough, out she come, and 'twere Julia. Well, sir, I
never heard anything about it till the man as were sent
with the bitches come back, and then I says to him,
' Well, did you get 'em all right into Wales ? ' and he
says, 'All but Julia, and somehow she slipt away in
chanofing: at Swindon, and we couldn't catch her, and
we couldn't make out what became of her.' Well, sir,
you see that bitch found her way back to Ted worth —
'tis about five and twenty mile. She were very poor
when she come in, but I soon got her right again, and

42 HOUND AND HORN ;

we kept her at home, and some very nice whelps she
had : but there you see, sir, they are sensible animals.
Well, sir, you say your hound is a bit of a thief : I hope
he may do for you what one did for me once, when I
w^as with Mr. Grantley Berkeley. I remember a hound
we walked at home called Hudibras, and a very fine
hound he were, and Mr. Berkeley kept him several
seasons. Well, sir, my little girl, as she was then, my

daughter, I mean, as is married now, and lives at ,

you know her well, for she comes up to stay with me
sometimes, and is mightily come of it now, for she ain't
very small ; well, she comes running in, and says,
' Father, there is Hudibras making^ a grreat hole in
the onion bed : ' well, sir, I thouo'ht the hound were
burying a bone, as they will do, so out I went, and
there I seed him w^orking away and covering the place
up with his nose : so I sung out, ' Hudibras, wdiat are
ye about there ? ' and as I came towards him, I saw
somethincj stickino- out of the ground, as I thous^ht w^as
a bit o' bacon ; so I went up and raked away the
mould, and there were a large bit o' beautiful bacon
just as it might have been cut off, and I took it in and
showed it to my wife, and she knowed nothing about it.
Well, sir, I didn't say anything, but I piit it into the
scales, and it weighed twelve pounds, and I kept it for
a time, and I never heard as any one had lost any, and

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 43

so I had it cut up into rashers, and used to have some
for my breakfast of a morning— and very good they
were. Why, sir, if ever you are unlucky enough to get
a hound as has distemper, and if you see him when he
is getting a little better bury a bone, you may be sure
it is a good sign : he can't eat it theoi, but he knows
where to find it when he can. Why, sir, I remember
Mr, Smith coming down to the kennels one day, and
there was a young hound that were very bad, and he
said, 'Carter, put that hound out o' the way; -he can't
live.' Now, sir, just at that moment I see that hound
nosing: amongst some stones and rubbish that was
thrown together in a corner of the yard, and come away
with a bit of bone and go and bury it. ' What's that
he's got 1 ' says Mr. Smith, ' take it away from him, that
won't do him any good.' ' I beg your pardon, sir,' says
I, ' that tells me that hound will recover, and I shan't
piit him away just yet.' Well, sir, the hound did
recover, and we had him in the pack several seasons.
Depend upon it, sir, they can always tell you better
than you can teach them. Well, sir, I remember when
I were with the Duke of Grafton, they thought you
couldn't cure a hound of the yellows; now, I won't
say you can always cure him, but I know it is to be
done. We had a hound called Midas, and he were
by Mr. Osbaldeston's ' Monarch ; ' well, sir, that hound

41 HOUND AND HORN ;

seemed as bad as bad with the yellows, and Tom, the
feeder, said he would die. 'Not this time, Thomas,'
says I, 'if I can help it.' Well, sir, I gave the dog
some medicine that I had, and after a time I see him
just move his stern when I eame in to where he was,
and called him, ' Midas, Midas.' Well, sir, I thought that
good, and then I got him to lap a little milk and broth,
and after a time he began to get better, and I got him
round ; and I remember Mr. Tom Smith (' Gentleman '
Tom Smith he were called) who hunted the Pj'-chley
for two years after Lord Chesterfield, and who after-
wards had the Craven, being out with us near Brackley,
and he greatly admired the hound. There, sir, they are
sensible animals, and if ever you see a hound begin to
look up, or move his stern as if he were pleased to see
you, arter distemper, or yellows, or anything of the sort,
you may depend on it, with care, he'll come round. Oh,
I've seen it times and times."

CHAPTER VII.

It may very naturally be asked, whether, after his
reth'ement from active life and his residence at Milton,
as George Carter still enjoyed an occasional day's
hunting, and was very well able to ride, though not
perhaps as hard as he was wont, there is nothing to
record about him ? Now, as the writer of these
memoirs, or recollections, or whatever they may be
named, pretty generally accompanied the old hunts-
man on all these little expeditions, and never felt so
proud as when he came to the meet with his old friend,
the only subject of regret with him is, that while he
can recall many traits of character and many incidents
in hunting worthy of note, there are still many more
which have passed from his recollection, or only re-
membered in such a hazy kind of manner as would
involve much " making up " in the recital ; and as the
main object of these memoirs is to adhere strictly to

46 HOUND AND HORN ;

the plain unvarnished truth in all that relates to his
old friend, and to give his own accounts of his former
life pretty much in his own words, it would be but
mere book-makiDg were he to dress up a lot of exciting
stories with George Carter as the principal character ;
beside which, it would be one of the first things which
the honest old man would not only have condemned,
but held in the most supreme contempt. Still, there
are manv incidents which are as fresh in the writer's
memory as at the time of their occurrence, and as
notes respecting them were jotted down at the time
they are easily referred to, and the facts to which they
relate may be strictly relied on. I remember well the
first time George Carter assumed once more the red
coat and cap, and it was on this wise. He had begun
to come out pretty regularly with the Tedworth on
a Tuesday, as on that day they hunt on the Oare Hill
side of the country, that is, somewhere about Pewsey
Vale.- The whole of this is within easy reach of Milton,
and was generally the da}^ selected by George Carter
to meet his old friends with the old pack : but still
for a long time I could not prevail on him to appear
in his regular hunting dress. It was always '' No, sir ;
no, sir : I can ride just as well as I am." Whether it
was a kind of natural modesty — which was one of his
great characteristics — or from any other cause, I never

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 47

presumed to inquire, but liis dress was invariably a
black frock coat, properly cut of course, and a high hat.
Well, on a certain Monday morning the Craven
Vv^ere advertised for Stype, and as the weather was
pretty good, and the old man in tolerable fettle, I had
proposed to him some little time before that the first
time the Craven met at Stype we should go there
together. Everything was arranged during my sittings
with him in the previous week, and I had privately
instructed Mrs. Carter to bring down his red coat " to
aw, for fear the moth should get into it." Now, as my
old friend was a little imperious in his own household,
I fear " the tidy kind of a 'ooman " did not get much
credit for her thoughtfulness ; but still the coat was
allowed to remain in the sitting-room, and gradually
it was hunsj over the back of the old man's chair.
The Saturday evening previous to the Craven meet at
Stype was to be the climax, and as good luck would
have it, it was an evening of thorough good humour ;
not as regarded the old man's manners towards myself
—for that was invariably the same — but to the family
circle ; and as David Edwards, the huntsman to the
Craven, had formerly been at Tedworth as whip, it was
an additional inducement to hold out to the old man
for appearing before his former pupil, " as a huntsman
should do." Night and morning stories do not always

48 HOUND AND HOUN ;

agree, and there was a Sunday, too, to come between ;
and if I remember right, we had the old 104th Psalm,
"My soul, praise the Lord," &c,, for we were old-
fashioned people at Milton, and stuck to the Psalms
of David and a good but very plain service. Now, I
only saw old George " in church " on Sundays, as he was
a very proper-thinking man ; and on these evenings
I never went in to chat with him, as we might have
got on hunting, and it was just as well not. Now, of
all the tunes in the psalm- or hymn-books, the old
104th was George Carter's delight, and no sooner did
it begin than the old man's head began to go, and his
rich full voice could be heard, as he threw his tongue
and chanted away ; as he expressed himself, " Oh, it
were beautiful ! " Now, I won't say it was the effect
of the old 104th, but I candidly confess I felt almost
inclined to commence the words of that self-same hymn
on the Monday morning. As I pulled up at the old
huntsman's door, to ride on with him to Stype, I could
discern something like a figure in a red coat and cap
through the window ; and in a few minutes all doubt
was dispelled by seeing him issue forth from the stable-
yard in the saddle and in proper hunting costume.
Our way was by Burbage Wharf, Savernake Station,
and then across the grass towards the reservoir, just
above Savernake House, and so across the park for

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 49

Bedwin. As we came down towards the pleasure
grounds in front of the house, my old friend, as I
knew, was bearing a little too much to the left, and not
for the gate that I always went through in crossing
that part of the forest, and I hinted as much to him ;
but as he seemed to know the way very well, I let him
alone, till, on passing through another gate which he
opened, I found we were, as I expected, crossing" the
grounds. Well, I was aware that nobody was down just
then at the house, but I remarked to Carter, " I say,
old friend, we are right in the middle of the Marquis's
grounds."

"Well, sir," rejoined he, looking very stern, ''and
what if we be ? Won't he see my red coat and cap,
and know we's a-going a-hunting ; and would any
gentleman or any nobleman think to stop anybody as
was a-going a-hunting ? Oh, dear, dear me, no, we
may go where we like, provided we don't do any
damage. Ahem ! " (the usual conclusion of satis-
faction to a clincher y like the cluck of a fowl that
has laid an Qgg).

Now any one who has ever met hounds at
Stype will know it is not the soundest-going in the
world ; while it is a line wild country for foxes and
hunting, it is not an easy one to ride, as it is frightfully

50 HOUND AND HOEN ;

boggy. On the day in question we got a fox away
towards Bedwin Brails and across Burridge Heath —
a place fit for nothing but wild hunting or shooting,
and the latter principally snipe. A former steward to
the Marquis of Ailesbury (we give no names) thought
probably to enrich the noble o^Tier by trying to reclaim
the land on Burridge Heath, and convert it into arable
and pasture. Poor man ! I Avished, that day, he had
attempted to farm the shores of the Dead Sea. But it
had this effect, it converted Burridge Heath into a
regular trap for horses, as it was a network of under-
drains, and those, too, pretty deep. 'Tis not pleasant
galloping across these with hounds running, even where
they are distinctly visible in pasture ; but when the
plough has nearly effaced them, it is — we don't approve
of strong language, so we will say — not heavenly. The
Craven, then, were running across Burridge Heath
towards the Brails, and having cleared all the drains
over the s^rass without accident, the writer of these
memoirs (for once) was really enjoying a sticky plough,
where he thought the ground was nothing more than
holding, when in a moment his horse was on his head,
and he himself on the broad of his back in something
like a cross between soft soap and railway grease.
Confound the drains ! The}^ had been carried across

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 51

the plough as well ; but 'twas soft falling, and horse
and man were soon up again, and not even a shoe
pulled off.

" Plenty of dirt,

No hurt ; "

SO 'twas only to get to hounds as soon as possible. As
the " Knight of the Fall " came up, he saw old George
Carter sitting on his horse close to one of the whips,
who was watching a ride ; and the whip, on seeing
what had happened, exclaimed, with a kind of grin,
" Well, old fellow, you've been and got it, hain't ee ? "
I shall never forget poor old Carter's face as he looked
round and comprehended the whole in a moment.
'• Oh, dear, dear me, sir, I hope you ain't hurt !" and,
turning to the grinning whip, he opened upon him :
*' What do you mean ? — you, a servant, to speak to a
gentleman in that way ? Why, you've had no eddi-
cation, and don't know a B from the gahle end of a
ham / " and then, turning to me again, with a kind of
look of sorrow, he continued, " Oh, sir, I'm quite
ashamed of him I "

e2

CHAPTER VIII.

I THINK I have stated in a former part of these
recollections, that George Carter, with all his profes-
sional knowledge, was a very modest man as to his
own merits ; and while he never forgot himself towards
any of those with whom he came in contact, never
allowed any one to take a liberty with himself without
at once letting him know he had been guilty of a
breach of good manners, though it was generally done
in a very quiet way. Of all the characters he disliked,
or rather despised, there was nothing so uncongenial
with his own tastes as what he called "a popinjay
kind o' chap," and on more than one occasion I was
witness to the old man's quiet set-down to one of
these gentry.

The Tedworth were one morning at Burbage Wharf,
and the place of meeting was in a field, just off the
Marlborough and Salisbury road. On our turning into

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 53

this said meadow, I observed that a part of it had
been railed off and divided into various pens, as there
had been some show, or something of that kind, during
the previous week, for sheep; at all events these
divisions still remained. They were light post and
rails, not above two feet high, and some few yards
apart. As the congregation of the faithful began to
assemble, and one after another — lord, squire, or yeo-
man, or what not — put in an appearance, the greetings
with the old man became pretty general. Now one
generally knows the old faces at a meet with hounds
pretty well, and for the same reason a stranger is soon
spotted, particularly if he is well got up and "ap-
pointed," either as regards his horse or himself. As
one after another came up, and, after the usual
recognition, turned away again to inspect the hounds,
or to go through the same thing with friends elsewhere,
I observed a stranger, very young, very well mounted,
and most elaborately got up in every way as to his
own attire — in fact he looked like "business," and
ought to have gone in any country. But there was
something about him that I didn't exactly like, and I
own " popinjay chap " crossed my mind. I couldn't
make out that he had. come with anybody, and he
seemed to be altogether a stranger, but perfectly at
home with himself. As he moved about and just kept

54 HOUND AND HORN ;

going, I saw him, as he came towards the rails I have
mentioned, touch his horse with the spur, and in a
moment he was over them, one after another, the horse
doing it pretty much in his stride, and as he came
past George Carter and myself, having finished this
circus performance, he pulled up suddenly and out
came —

" Good morning. Carter ; glad to see you out again,
old man."

My poor old friend's face was a caution ; the stern
look was on in a moment as he returned —

" Good morning, sir. "

" Nice fencer, ain't he ? " continued Mr. Popinjay,
as he patted his horse on the neck.

" Hope you won't want it hy and hy, sir. Ahem I "

Of course I never said a word, and as this very
young man moved away, old George turned his head
to me and said,

"I beg your pardon, sir, ivlio is that young
gentleman ? "

" Why," said I, '' I thought, from the way he spoke
to you, he must have been an old friend of yours."

" Never seed him afore in my life, sir."

" And," I could have added, " never wish to see him
agfain." I did hear afterwards who he was, but we
did not see much more of him with the Tedworth.

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CAETER 55

I think it was the following season we had another
young gentleman, who thought a mufti kind of dress
would do with " those hounds," and though after a time
he honoured the Tedworth with the real scarlet, it
was in a kind of " cut-me-down " sort of way that he
came out at all. Now I have always maintained that,
however well a man may be mounted, or however well
he may go in general, it is only a point of discretion
in a strange country to ride to some leader, and not
think it necessary to take a line of your own till you
know something about what may be before you.
Puthall Gate is a good meet, and somehow or other,
if one can get away from Henswood, it is generally a
good fox. Puthall Gate, or the cover about it, did
not belie itself on the morning in question, when old
George Carter and myself met the Tedworth there.
We got away at length for the forest, by Savernake
Ruins, and eventually to Durley, close to Caleb
Symonds's house, where the hounds threw up ; we
tried all round but could not make anything of it,
when a single hound marked the mouth of a drain
close to the turnpike road. There was our fox, sure
enough, and as we had had a pretty good run with
him, it seemed only right to bolt him, and let the
pack do the rest. The drain was op<3ned, a '' terrier
dawg," if I remember right, put in, and out came the

56 HOUND AND HORN ;

fox, and, as it happened, almost through the hounds,
which had been drawn a little off. How wonderful it
is, the way a fox can thread through hounds, and how
many hairbreadth escapes must he have for his life !
But so it was on this occasion ; he did escape, and being
close to the park palings, he managed to slip through
a place where no hound could follow him. I fear Jack
Fricker did not bless him ; but the only thing to be
done 'vvas to get one or tw^o pales down. One or two
hounds scrambled or w^ere helped over — but what a job
it is to get hounds through a small gap, when they
are all striving together and getting in one another's
way ! Well, there is allowance to be made for a
huntsman if he does speak a little French, or some
other foreign language, on such an occasion. But what
has all this got to do with the young gentleman who
lionoiired the Tedw^orth with his red coat ? I remem-
ber his being there when the fox was in the drain,
and when he was bolted ; he had gone very well with
the hounds across the forest from Puthall or Henswood,
and there had not been much to stop him, but his time
had not yet come.

Now all those w^ho are acquainted with Durley
will remember that at the back of Caleb Symonds's
house are some small paddocks, with high deer
fencing all round, just outside the forest and tow^ards

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 57

the top of Dnrley Hill. It was across one of these
paddocks that our fox had gone, and the hounds after
him, as soon as they could get through. The field had
only one option, and that was to go round to the
forest gate in the road, and then up the said road to
the top of the hill, and turn sharp to the right to get
to the hounds. There is, of course, a gate into these
paddocks from the forest, close to Symonds's house, and
our friend the young gentleman, seeing the gate open,
turned in, and began galloping across after the hounds.
I hallooed out to him, knowing him to be a stranger,
" You can't get out there, sir," and old George Carter
heard it. As we came along on the top of the hill,
and outside the paddock paling, there was our friend
riding about to find a place where he could get through,
as over was impossible ; and at last he had to retrace
his steps and go out by the same gate he went in at,
and then follow us round, and we were not long in
actually picking up our fox, already dead beat.
Whether he was dead before the grand young gentle-
man came up or not I won't say, but I do remember
his trying to hide his mortification, in not the choicest
language, as to " his luck," or some such thing, and
poor old George in his quiet way tried to explain to
him —

" I beg your pardon, sir, but you see you did

58 HOUND AND HORN.

not know the country, and if you'd ha' only come

back when Mr. called to ye, you'd ha' been

all right."

And then turning round to me as our friend rode
away — " These young men will be young men, sir."

CHAPTER IX.

You ask if the old man was always so courteous in
his reproofs ? Well, I have known him speak out on
more occasions than one, but then he was only mortal.
I remember on one occasion, in the West Woods, one
of those " abominations," as I call them, being out,
viz. a nondescript kind of man, with a young cast-
off weed, not good enough to train for regular racing,
but which might possibli/ do something for a hunter's
stake, with no more qualification for a hunter about
him than a tom cat. Well, I believe these useless
animals are sent out "with hounds," that is, they appear
occasionally, when hounds are out, to qualify (?), and
after getting in everybody's way, and frequently
showing temper in a crowd, go home again as soon as
hounds begin to run, and are rarely seen after they
have killed their fox. I was comiDg down a narrow
lane with the old man, when the aforesaid groom tried

60 HOUND AND HORN ;

to pass by us, and as he did so liis horse lashed out
and just missed the old man's leg. If ever I saw
Avrath in any man's face in my life it was then, as
he shouted out —

" Take him away! take your vicious brute away, I tell
ye I go out into the middle of a field where there's
nobody else, but never come out a-hunting again !
Oh, dear, dear, dear, he might ha' broke my leg."

The latter was to myself. It was on another occa-
sion when, having had a long morning in the same
West Woods, we came away to try Clench Common,
and as we came in on the lower side of the Gorse we
met a very well known character, who lived some-
where about there, and who, I fear, bore not the best
possible name as regarded game or foxes ; at all events
he was no favourite with our old huntsman, and I
don't think he disguised his feelings, nor could have
said a good word for him if he had tried. Well, there
he stood, close by the Gorse, and as we passed he
made the remark, " There was a brace o' foxes lying
about here yesterday." Well, it might have been
made to either of us or to any one else, but poor old
George turned round to me and said, quite loud enough
to be heard, " I wish, sir, 'twere the only thing
a-lying about here."

One more of these and I have done ; but we must

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 61

remember, as George Carter was a very upright man
himself, he could not stand anything that he thoroughly
disapproved of in any one else. There lived in the
Tedv\-orth country — the exact locus in quo is imma-
terial to this memoir — a rather peculiar sort of
being that one meets with about once in a life-
time, and that once too often — a man who ought to
have been a shining light in society, but who had
thoroughly thrown himself away. He had a great
taste for field sports, and knew a good deal about
hunting, as well as other matters, but from some reasons,
best known to himself, kept pretty much aloof from
his fellow creatures. Still, a man must occasional^
have some one to speak to, and the gentleman in
question, after a time, tried to become acquainted
with the retired huntsman ; but the old man quickly
found they were not cast in the same mould, and he
did not encourage any intimacy. I knew all about it.
as he opened his mind to me pretty freely on this as
well as other matters ; and one evening, on my paying
my usual visit to the old huntsman's parlour, I found
my "kennel" already occupied, and the new guest
sitting there, but I saw the old man was not altogether
happy in his mind. I made my visit short on some
pretence or other, and on meeting my old friend the
next day he instantly alluded to it, and said the

62 HOUND AND HORN ;

fellow came down to him, and before he went away,
begged him to come up to his house sometimes, and
pass an hour with him of an evening.

" Well," I said, '' Carter, go. It may do him good,
and can't do you any harm."

"No, no, no," rejoined the old man, ''not I; what I
said, sir, were this, ' I don't drink, I don't smoke, and I
don't Ull no lies — so I'm no use to you.' "

I looked the old man in the face, and, trying not to
laugh, said, " Oh, I'm quite ashamed of you."

But it is well to keep the best story for the end, and
of all the remarks I ever heard from the old man's
lips the one I have now to record beats the lot. It
may involve a longish story, but to come at the pith of
it it is necessary to recount the various circumstances
which led up to it.

One morning, just before or after Christmas, I forget
which, but it was in mid-winter, the Tedworth hounds
met at Redenham or Weyhill, as it was on a Thursday,
and, as w^as always the case whenever I did go to any
of those distant meets, it involved an early start, so
that I could go quietly on, and get my horse put in
for an hour or so, and fed, before he came out for the
day's hunting. I could not indulge in cover hacks
and pad grooms, and perhaps enjoyed my sport all
the more. Before George Carter was out of bed on

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CAETER. 63.

this Thursday morning I was bobbing along quietly
across the down, towards the place where I hoped to
enjoy a- day's sport, the old man never going so far
from home, and trusting to my giving him a full
account on my return. We had a long and not very
busy morning, and later in the day we got away into
Doles Wood and Pill Heath, a long way behind our
fox and not much prospect of catching him, when, to
add to our other misfortunes, it came on thick and
ended in a regular fog. 'Twas four o'clock, getting
nearly dark, when Mr. Raikes, better known as
"Uncle Fred," and as good a sportsman as ever sat
in a saddle, as he was acting as "master" for the
day, thought it best to get the hounds together and
go home.

Now Pill Heath and Doles Wood are almost un-
known lands to our side of the Tedworth country ;
as they are the very extremity of a kind of uninhabited
district, and very wide of Pewsey Vale, the first
thing to be done was to find out who was likely to be
going my way, and act as pilot till I got somewhere
nearer home. As good luck would have it, there were
two representatives of Pewsey Yale left, as well as
myself — for about Christmas time nobody asks whether
meets are wide or not, so that we can get to hounds at
all. Then there were the two Captain Wellesleys (ag

64 HOUND AND HORN ;

they were then) out, and Conholt Park lay directly in
our way home.

Fog or no fog, we got on very well to Conholt ; and
a. bucket of gruel for the horses, and something besides
gruel for ourselves, sent us away a little after five o'clock
for our eleven-mile stretch across the down for South
Grove and Pewsey Yale. It was thick, and no mistake,
but somehow the horses knew their way, though the
pace was not much, and the night very dark. It was
long past seven o'clock when I found myself in the little
village of Milton, and at my own stable door ; and the
first thing I heard from my man in waiting was, that
Mr. Carter had been up several times to inquire if I
had come home, and that he seemed uneasy when he
found I had not cast up.

As I was leaving the stable and going up towards
the house I heard through the darkness " Ahem ! "
As the old man would say, " I knowed the note," and
calling out to him I told him I was all right, and if
he would come in with me to my room I would give
him five minutes, while I pulled my boots off, before
getting ready for dinner, just to let him know what
we had done ; and turning into the room as I was
speaking I found it already tenanted, as the lady of
the house was whihng away the time waiting for her
liege lord, in playing with their youngest child, a little

liECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 65

girl of about eighteen months old, and who ought to
have been in bed. The five minutes became ten, as
of course there were many things to tell, and questions
to be answered as well as asked, and while I was
telling the various events of the day, I saw signs, and
winks, and smiles passing between the old man and
the child — in fact a regular flirtation — and as I
knew he was very fond of children, and always
noticed mine when he met them in their walks,
I found out now this one was his especial
favourite.

Well, all things must come to an end, and at lengthy
having told my budget of news and answered all the
inquiries as to who was out, what we had done, where
we found, checked, cast, &c., &c., and, of course, a full
explanation from the old huntsman ivhij the fox went
here, or did not go there, just as if he had seen it all,
I said, " Now, old friend, I want to get into some fresh
clothes, and then dinner, so I'll just open the door
for you," and suiting the action to the word I went
out and opened the hall door for him, and then I
heard from the sitting-room —

" Oh, yes, ma'am, a very nice child ; oh, a beautiful
little child. Yes, my dear, you are a very beautiful
little child. Well, good night, ma'am. Good night,
my dear."

F

66 HOUND AXD HORN" ;

" Come along, old friend," I called out, " I want my
dinner."

" Coming, sir ; coming," he replied ; and as lie
came out of the room into the hall I just caught
a smile on his face as he muttered to himself,
" Nice pup ; pity she wem't a hound."

''Bravo, old boy 1 " I shouted ; '' that's the best thing
you ever said."

" No, sir ; no, sir. I beg your pardon, sir. I didn't
mean nothing wrong, sir. I didn't mean it, sir."

" Meaoi'' said I ; " I know ivliat you meant, and you
couldnt have paid the little child a greater comj)liment
if you'd racked your brain till doomsday. Had it come
from any one else, I should have been angry ; but you
meant nothing wrong."

But I almost forgot one more story respecting my
old friend, and, as it is not a long one, here it is.
Our old clerk, who had held the office for years, at
length paid the debt of nature, and vacated the post.
Who was to take his place ? I looked round with my
mind's eye, and got puzzled. The Cumners had been
parish clerks in Milton for years, and " George " was
the last, as the family had died out. First I thought
of one, then another, till one evening, on sitting in the
old huntsman's parlour, I said, " I say, old friend, poor
old Georfre Cumner is gone, who is to succeed him ?

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 67

Will yon be clerk ? " The old man looked np, and,
after a moment, answered,

" Well, sir, now you know I would do most things
for you, but I can't be clerk, as I fear I might make a
mistake in church, and sometimes come out Who-whoop !
when it ought to be Amen."

f2

CHAPTER X.

Now it may very possibly be remarked by many of
those who may take the trouble to penise these
memoirs, that there are many luell known stories
respecting George Carter, which have appeared in print
from time to time, which are unrecorded here, and which
should have found a place in what professes to be the
Life and Recollections of the great huntsman. To these
critics an answer is ready. Doubtless many things
have been written from time to time, which have come
out in the papers and periodicals devoted to our field
sports, respecting the sayings and doings of George
Carter, but I fear that many of these are hardly to be
relied on ; not that I would cast any doubt on the
veracity of the authors, but these tales generally have
their foundation in " We all have heard the well-known
story," or something of that kind. Now, as I said I
would at starting, so have I kept myself most strictly
to old George Carter s own words. Every incident in
his life here recorded has come from his own lips;
there has been no attempt at vai-nish or dressing up ;

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CAETER. 69

and as my old friend was most truthful in everything
which he uttered, it would have been an insult to his
memory to have inserted anything respecting him upon
merely hearsay evidence, or to have quoted as fad,
anything which he would not have endorsed. I myself
have heard from his own mouth every single incident
which I have now collected into a general whole, and
I have often admired the wonderful simplicity with
which he gave his own recollections ; nor did any of
these vary in the most minute particular, though in
my frequent visits to his fireside I have heard them,
as he would express it, '' times and times." .

His memory was most retentive, and as a proof of
it, he told me on one occasion of his having gone with
his father and mother to Ludlow races in 1800, when
he was only eight years old ; and he gave from memory
the names of the horses that ran, their owners, riders,
and colours ; and turning to a large bureau in his
sitting-room, where he kept all sorts of valuables, Loui
produced from a bundle of papers, which seemed to
have been lying dormant for the last century, a card of
the Ludlow races of that year, a copy of which I have,
and sure enough he was correct in every particular. It
is true there was only one, race on each of the two days
and only three horses started in all, but the old man
was perfectly right in his account of everything, though

70 HOUND AND HOEN ;

it happened eighty years back, and he himself at the
time I mention eighty-eight years old. The card itself
looks curious at the present day, so I will give a copy of
it, and here it is.

LUDLOW RACES, 1800.

On Wed-iiesday, the 9th of July, will he run, in the Old Field,
A Maiden Plate of £50.

3-year olds to carry 6 st. ; 4-year olds, 7 st. 7 lbs. ; 5-year
olds, 8 st, 6 lbs. ; 6-year olds, 8 st. 11 lbs. ; and aged,
11 st. Mares and Geldings allowed 3 lbs.

Twice round the Course, starting at the stand,

Mr, Day's Chestnut Colt, by Tamerlane, 3 years old, 6st,

T. Knight. Yellow and black cap 2 2

Mr. Erasmus Saunders's Bay Colt, 3 years old, 6 st. Rider

in green .. 1 1

On Thursday, the 10th,
The Gentlemen's and Noblemen^s Plate of £50, for all ages.

Mr. Bloss's Bay Horse Castoff, 5 years old, 6 st. 6 lbs
W. Bloss. Purple and white, and black cap

Mr. Day's Chestnut Colt, by Tamerlane, 3 years old, 6 st

T. Knight. Yellow and black cap distanced

Mr. Erasmus Saunders's Bay Colt, 3 years old, 6 st, 3 lbs,
Eider in green ...

Asse7nblieSy Ordinaries, and Suppers as ustial.

Theophilus Salway, Esq., Steward.
John Hickman, Clerk.

^^ N. B. — A Main of Cocks will be fought at the Castle Inn during

the Races.

Potter & Collier, Feeders.

Feltoe, Printer.

KECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CAETER. 71

There are few men who can recall the names of
hounds which have distinguished themselves in any
particular way in different countries and through a
number of years, but George Carter never forgot a
hound, and in many instances, as has been already
shown, could give his or her pedigree. Exactly in the
same way he had a wonderful recollection of runs, and
could recount the doings of his pack, even though it
were the Grafton, or Oakley, or previous to the date of
his having been with either, with the greatest accuracy
He was essentially a hound man, and though he some-
times mentioned some of the horses he had ridden,
and could give many particulars about them, he rarely
spoke of his own performances in the saddle, or of the
animals that had carried him.

Whenever anything appeared in public print in
reference to former times in which his name occurred,
and it was by no means an uncommon incident, I always
alluded to this in some way on my first visit to
him afterwards, and tried to draw him out; and
if I failed in this, I read him the account itself,
and after he had listened most attentively to the
recital, his answer to my inquiry respecting it was
not unfrequently —

" I beg your pardon, sir, 'tis nothing but a lie ; people
must live somehow, and some does it by writing, and

72 HOUND AND HORN ;

perhaps they believe it's true, but 'taint, or I should
have remembered it!'

But let it not be supposed if he occasionally came
out with a strong expression — as huntsmen and many
others besides them occasionally may — that George
Carter was rough in his manner ; far from it, he was
a very well educated man, though possibly some might
say, " How could that be, when, according to his own
account, he had had very small school advantages, and
ran away from home and school at nine years of age ? "
Whatever may be the advantages of book learning, and
doubtless in many instances they are great, some people
forget that real education begins when school days are
over, and the boy first grows into a man and takes
his lesson in the great battle of life. It may be true
that a government inspector would have found fault
with some of the old huntsman's phraseology, and
detected many grammatical errors. This is mere red-
tapism. No one would have been an hour in company
with him without finding out that he was talking to
an educated man, and not a clown. His way of ex-
pressing himself — his freedom from slang phrases — and
his impressive manner, showed at once, not only that
he was a man of education, but of refined taste.

He was very fond of quoting from various authors,
but the one in which he delighted most was Somer-

KECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTEK. 73

ville, and every now and then, when speaking on some
point in hunting, he would break out with " Shrill horn
proclaims his flight," or something of the same kind,
and then he would recite some twelve or twenty lines,
exquisitely rendered, while his eye would sparkle, and
his whole body gradually move in his chair as if he were
once more in the saddle, and one felt on listening to him,
to apply his own words, " Oh ! it were very beautiful."
He may not have had much schooling in his youth,
but twelve years with the Duke of Grafton, and twenty -
three \^ith the Tedworth, had left their mark, and
it was doubtless from the class of men that were the
constant guests of his Grace, or the Squire, and with
whom the old huntsman was associated, that he took
his tone.

His general habits of life after his retirement were
very simple ; he amused himself aboiit home, occasion-
ally keeping a few sheep and a cow or two, rarely going
further than he could walk, except when he came out
" a-hunting," and caring very little for society ; and
perhaps his character could hardly have been better
told than in his own words, " I don't drink, nor smoke,
nor tell lies." Still, he liked to see some of his old
friends as they passed his house in going or coming back
from hunting ; and I believe he thoroughly appreciated
my regular visit of an evening to his fireside.

74 HOUND AND HORN ;

During the whole time of his residence in Milton he
never but once, up to a certain date, had anything like
illness that was of a serious character ; and I much
feared that at eighty years of age I was about to see
the last of my old friend. I remember well paying
him, as I supposed, my last visit, and, on taking leave
of him, the old man reared himself up, though seeming
in the last stage of weakness, and the old fire seemed
to flash for a moment from his eyes as he said —

" Good-bye, sir ; good-bye ; God bless you. I hope
you will live long to enjoy your fox hunting."

I little thought to have seen him out again, but T
did. The news of his illness quickly got about, and
he was actually killed by one of the sporting papers of
the day ; but then, as the old man used to say, " some
people must live by writing, and if they are not mighty
particular as to the correctness of their information,
they can put it all right the following week and think
no more about it." I know I corrected the error in the
paper above mentioned, and thankful enough I was at
being able to do so.

In a general way he enjoyed wonderful health, but
he was very careful of himself, and most abstemious,
and I don't think anything would have induced him
to have infringed on the rules of sobriety either in
his own house or elsewhere. He told me that once

1 ' EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 75

during his career he had kept a public house, and that
was while he was living with Mr. Grantley Berkeley,
but he soon got out of that, as he said he had too many
friends coming in to see him of an evening, and they
all wanted to treat him, and that " drinking and hunting
were two men's business."

CHAPTER XT.

Now, from what has been said of my old friend, it
may naturally be inferred that his was what is called a
" green old age." The only indication of age about him
was that, about the year 1878, he began to get a little
dim in one eye, and from that time his sight failed ; but
so inscrutable are the ways of Providence, that what
might have been looked upon as a terrible calamity,
turned out quite the contrary in the end. However
much one may have appreciated Mr. George Carter in
his public character, it must be remembered that he
was, after all, but mortal, and like all other human
beings, not without his faults. He was subject to
occasional outbreaks of temper, and was not a little
imperious in his own house ; and it was pretty generally
supposed that " the nice, tidy 'ooman " who called
him husband, and his children, had now and then
rather a lively time of it, if they did not turn to the

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 77

old huntsman's " Hallo ! " quite as quick as he might
have supposed they should have done. Nor did this
seem to decrease with age. But a marked change came
over the old man as his eyesight began to fail; and
though perfectly sensible of the deprivation he suffered,
he softened down wonderfully in manner, while he con-
stantly expressed how thankful he felt for the general
good health he enjoyed, and the many blessings that
fell to his lot. It was, as his sight began to fail, that
he gave up hunting, as he said he was afraid to ride
when he could not see well where he was going. But
in this particular he beat his late master, Mr. Assheton
Smith; for if George Carter did not httnt hounds at
fourscore, he nevertheless enjoyed his hunting long
after that period of his life, and his seat in the
saddle had lost nothing of its ease, his voice was
still cheery and musical, and as to his knowledge of
the science of hunting, he had lost nothing of it from
the effects of age. I well remember the day on which
he entered, on his, I believe, eighty-third year. The
Tedworth hounds were drawing the gorse on Clench
Common, and it had soon become known that it was
George Carter's birthday ; the greetings from all sides
were of course most hearty, and, as might naturally
have been expected, the old man was in wonderful
good spirits. Foxes were plentiful enough on the

78 HOUND AND HOEN ;

Common on that da}^ ; but as to scent, there was little

or none. I believe foxes know pretty well when they

can be hunted or otherwise, and on the morning in

question they kept creeping about in the thick of the

gorse, giving the pack no end of trouble, but refusing

to quit it. Jack Fricker did all he could, but however

good the huntsman may be, or however much he may

try to do his best, there are circumstances when all his

energy may be in vain. I had observed my old friend

go quietly away to a ride towards the outside quarter of

the covert, and there he sat as mute as a mouse ; but

I knew he meant business, and, as I watched him,

I fancied his wished-for moment had arrived. There

was a kind of excitement about him, though he uttered

not a sound, as some of the leading hounds forced

their way through the gorse to the point where he

was sitting on his horse ; now and then one throwing

tongue ; as they could just feel the scent ; as they came

up to him. I saw a white head, and the old man, cap in

hand, cheered them over the ride. He had viewed the

fox across, hut he hneiv tetter than to halloo I Oh ! if

every one would but think of this ! He knew the

covert was not so thick towards the outside ; and he let

the pack come up to him without getting their heads

up. There was a crash as the Tedworth big pack got

up pretty close to their fox, and had room to move.

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 79

The old huntsman " caught hold " of them once more,
and it was short work afterwards ; for, as the fox would
not go, even then, but tried to get back again, he was
caught by some of the tail hounds as he doubled, and
literally died under George Carter's nose.

Well do I remember it ; and doubtless there are
many left who will recollect the circumstance, and
some one, never mind who, shouting out, as the old
man cheered the pack on, " That's a sight for you !
what do you think of my hoy now ? " As the old man
would have expressed it, had it been of any one but
himself, " Oh ! it were very beautiful."

But let it not be supposed that the old huntsman
ever interfered in any way ; when he happened to be
out ; with the duties of Jack Fricker, who was carrying
the horn. He was naturally too well-bred for that, and
he knew the responsibilities which attached to the one
who was hunting the pack. It is possible that on
various occasions he might have "down otherwise"
than Jack Fricker did, had he still been in office;
but he never ventured an opinion, or put himself
forward, as many a would-be knoiuing prig might have
done ; but he was always ready to assist his old pupil,
if he could ; and we all know that sometimes to
"Halloo 'em on" is not thought to be wrong by the
present huntsman of the Tedworth. Hunting with

80 HOUND AND HORN.

the old man was literally a science, and required a deal
of study. It was not a thing of the moment, and to be
forgotten as soon as the excitement of the run was over.
And I have frequently heard him say, in my evening
sittings with him by his fireside, and in going over
what to many would have been the " long-forgotten
past," " Oh ! times and times I've seen, arter I've been
a-bed, where I lost a fox."

CHAPTER XII.

It was not, I fancy, with a very good grace tliat
George Carter first came into Hampsliire, as it was a
style of country to wliicli he had never been accus-
tomed, and the terribly steep hills, and big flints,
especially about Fosbury, Ham Ashley, Coombe, &c.,
rather staggered him ; for if it was bad for horses,
what must it have been for hounds ? True it was that
Mr. Assheton Smith generally had this side of the
country to himself ; but there were occasions when the
Squire could not go out himself, and then George
Carter carried the horn. Soon after his coming to
Tedworth he was out, in place of Mr. Smith, in the
Faccombe country, and on his going up to the house
in the evening, as he regularly did, to report progress
or receive orders for the following day, Mr. Smith asked
him why he had not killed his fox sooner, as it had

been a long run.

G

82 HOUND AND HOEN ;

" Well, sir," said the old man — and I believe I quote
pretty much his own words — "if I had been in a
hunting country I could have killed him in an
hour."

" Hunting country 1 " exclaimed the Squire. " What
the something do you mean by that ? "

" Well, sir," answered George Carter, " I beg your
pardon, but where I come from, the servant-girls did
used to htg flints to strike a light with the tinder-box "
(please, kind reader, to remember this was before the
day of lucifer-matches), " and where I were to-day they
were rolling about on the hillside as big as your head,
and we couldn't go very fast over them."

But there was a still worse evil which he had to
contend with at home, when he first came into Hamp-
shire, and that was kennel lameness.

The kennels at Tedworth, in Dick Burton's time and
when Carter first succeeded him, were on the top of
the hill, where the dairy now stands, and without
imputing any blame to the former huntsman, there
was hardly a hound that was free from this terrible
scourge. It was decided by Mr. Smith to move the
pack to some other locality, and new kennels were
built where they now stand. Bui George Carter had
a head on his shoulders, and had come to the conclusion
that kennel lameness was caused by rheumatism, or

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 83

some complaint of a similar character, and he got
Mr. Smith's consent to superintend the laying of the
floors in ofeneral. The crround was all excavated, under
his orders, to the depth of about twenty inches or two
feet, and this was filled in with blacksmiths' cinders or
clinkers, brickbats, or any other rubbish of a similar
character, and then the flags were laid atop of all.
Now if any one were to ask the result, let them inquire
of Jack Fricker if they ever suffer from kennel lame-
ness now, and I believe he would say it is a complaint
unknown in the kennel.

g2

CHAPTER XIII.

But if Carter did not altogether relisli Hampshire
at first — and possibly Mr. Smith's ways and his own did
not always agree — he was very just both as regarded the
sport to be had in the Tedworth country, and the good
points in the old Squire's character. He has often
remarked to myself, " There, sir, Mr. Smith was a very
odd man, but then he did a deal o' good. Why, just
look at the number of horses he kept, and what he paid
to the farmers for corn and hay and straw ; and then
we always had a hundred couples of hounds of one
sort and another, and see what they cost to keep, and
all money to be spent in the country. And then the
number of hands he employed about the stables and
kennels and gardens. Why, sir, he kept all the people
in Tedworth in some way or another, and all through
the winter there were large coppers full of soup for the
poor twice a week, and clothing, and blankets. Oh, he

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 85

had a deal o' money, and he spent it at home ; and he
was very good, and I fear he will be missed mighty
much."

But Carter's especial favourite was the Duke of
Grafton, and he always spoke of his Grace with the
greatest reverence, and his heart was in Whittlebury
Forest. " Oh, dear, dear me ! how I should like you to
see Whittlebury Forest 1 There, 'tis a beautiful place ; for
you see, sir, the kennels were in the Forest, and I lived
there, and you could take the young hounds out for
exercise close home, and there were no stray cur dogs
about as may have the mange or anything else, and no
strangers nor idle people — burn 'em — and 'twere all nice
and quiet, and the deer used to come up and feed quite
handy, and the hounds soon got used to them, and
never took no notice ; and there, I could sit out at my
door of an evening in the summer and hear the foxes
bark, and the owls hoot, and the deer blant ; and some-
times of a night, when 'twere all still as still, I could
hear a hound just throw his tongue in his sleep,
a-dreaming, I suppose, sir, as he were a- hunting
a fox. Oh, it were beautiful ! Oh, Whittlebury
Forest were a nice place, and I should like you to
see it."

It was in October, 1880, that George Carter seemed
to break very suddenly, and he fancied his end was

86 HOUND AND HOEN ;

drawing near; but he never repined, though he had
sleepless nights and weary days, as the being confined
to his bedroom was not what he had been accustomed
to. Still he looked to the bright side of things, and
constantly expressed his thankfulness for all the
comforts he had enjoyed through life, and even then
in his decline. His mental faculties were all perfect,
and his memory wonderful as ever. He was still
anxious to know of the doings of the Tedworth, at that
time kennelled in Marlborough Forest for cub-hunting ;
and on my speaking one evening about Jack Fricker,
and his having got his hounds together on the line of
a fox he had been hunting, where there were two or
three fresh foxes afoot, and the pack divided, the old
man looked up : " Well, sir, there's nothing like
knowing the note, and what hounds you can trust.
Why, I think I've told you, there were a bitch I had
once called ' Salvage,' and we were in Doles Wood, and
plenty of foxes there ; 'twere early in the season, and
the hounds got arter one and another all over the place.
Well, I stood still and listened till I heard Salvage, and
I know'd her tongue, and she were always right, and
she were hunting round towards me, and all of a sudden
she stopped. I galloped up to near where I heard that
bitch last, and I jumped off my horse, and just hitched
him up, when up comes Colonel Lascelles. ' Hullo I '

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 87

says he, * George, what's the matter ? ' ' Matter, sir 1 '
says I; 'why, I'm just going to bring out that fox.'
' Why,' says Colonel Lascelles, ' they haven't killed,
have they ? ' ' Salvage tells me, sir,' says I, ' she has,
and I shall find him.' Well, sir, I forced my way
through the wood, and presently I saw one hound come
out with some blood about him, and then another, and
so on ; and as soon as they see me coming they went
back, and sure enough, in some brambles, there were
the fox dead enough and the hounds tearing him ; and
there were Salvage, and the other hounds know'd her
cry, I believe, as well as I did. Oh, she were a
beautiful bitch ! And I remember Colonel Lascelles
saying, when I came out with the fox, ' Well, George,
I could hardly have believed it ; ' but there you see,
sir, I know'd."

Of course his expressions were pretty much con-
nected with his former life, but on my inquiring one
evening if he had suffered much pain during the day,
as he had some rheumatic affection about him, he said,
" Well, sir, the doctor says I have sci-sci-tica, or some
such thing."

" Sciatica you mean, old friend," I observed.

" That's it, sir," said he. " Burn the long words 1
But it's shifted a bit now out of my hips and got more
about my body ; but there, I hope 'tis for the best. Get

88 HOUND AND HORN ;

him off the foiVd ground, and then we may catch him
and kill him."

Another wonderful proof of the retentive powers of
memory in the old huntsman, particularly as regarded
hounds, may be given in the following incident, which
occurred within the last few years of his life.

Sir Claude de Cres|)igny had resided at Durrington
Manor House for some few seasons, and while there
had hunted regularly with the Tedworth hounds. Some
time after he had left I received a letter, asking me if
I could find out from old George Carter anything
respecting a certain hound which was in the Duke of
Grafton's pack at the time he was acting as his Grace's
huntsman, and might possibly have come with him to
Tedworth. Sir Claude was, I believe, tracing out some
pedigrees ; at all events he wanted to know how the
hound in question was bred. I took an early oppor-
tunity of mentioning this to my old friend, and he said
at once —

" Remember him ? Yes, of course I do ; he were a
very good hound, and came with me from the Duke
of Grafton to Mr, Smith's."

" Can you tell me, old friend," I continued, " how he
was bred ? "

" Yes," replied the huntsman, " he were by

out of " (T forget the exact names) ; and

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 89

calling to his daughter he told her to look in
his bureau, where he kept his old papers, &c.,
and see if she could find a hound list of "the
Grafton " of such and such a year. The search proved
successful, and as the old man was at that time
getting blind, he told the girl to hand it to me, as I
could see better than he could ; and on lookincr throuo-h
the list, sure enough the old man's memory had not
deceived him, there stood the name, and the loedigree
was correct.

One "more anecdote as to his retentive powers of
memory and I have done.

It was in the last year of his life when I was on one
occasion sitting with my old friend, and the conversa-
tion had turned on the present abominable practice of
hallooing a fox as soon as one catches eye of him, with-
out once considering whether it may be the hunted fox
or not. The old man gave his opinion pretty freely
respecting this common error, as to its making hounds
wild, getting their heads up, or probably indifferent to
a timely halloo at the right moment, when it may be
really useful to the huntsman ; and then he came out,
as he frequently did when some chance observation led
up to something of former times, with : " Well, sir,
now I remember once being out with Mr. Farquharson —
for I liked occasionally to get a day with another pack

90 HOUND AND HORN ;

when some gentleman would kindly find me a horse ;
and so I had been out with Mr. Farquharson's hounds,
for I know'd Treadwell well, and Treadwell know'd me ;
and we had a pretty good day. Well, sir, we had been
running a fox in the afternoon for some time — maybe
an hour or more — and the scent were ofettino^ worse and
worse as the ground got foiled, till at last we couldn't
hunt him at all ; and as I had a long way to get back
to Tedworth, and had to take my horse back and get
on the one I had ridden down (for of course I hacked
one down), I came away, and they were going to give
it up and go home ; so I wished Treadwell ' Good-night '
and away I came. Well, sir, as I were a coming along
a ride through a wood, somehow — I can't tell why —
I looked back over my shoulder, and, behold 1 I see
a fox, as I fancied, a following o' me. He were some
way off, to be sure, but I know'd it were a fox. Well,
sir, ould Carter never halloed — he know'd too well for
that — but just turned himself quietly round, and, sure
enough, there were a fox coming along the ride ; but as
I stood perfectly still, and he never seed me, he comed
quietly along, and pretty tired he were, by his going,
till at last he turned off into the wood ; but I marked
the spot, and then, after he ivere gone, I rode quietly
back, and just broke down a twig, and then I trotted
back to where I had left the hounds, and soon I see

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 91

one of the whips, and then I never halloed, but held
up my cap and waved it about, and he soon see it,
and went back to Treadwell, and told him, I suppose,
that ould Carter were makinof signs. Well, Treadwell
know'd then I had seen the fox, and on he comed with
all the hounds he could get together, and we went
back to where the twig were broken down, and in they
went, and very soon brought him out, for he couldn't
go far, and so we killed him. Now, sir, if any of those
gentlemen you speak of had seen that fox, they would
a been tally-hoing, and hallooing, and done more harm
than good, and never would have killed a fox at all
Oh, dear me, I do like a quiet sportsman."

Now this was, I believe, the true version of the story
as it was told to me, for, as usual, I wrote down the
leading points of it immediately on my return home, and
it came from a man in his ninety-second year respect-
ing an occurrence of some thirty-five or forty years
back ; and I have no doubt he saw, in his mind's eye,
everything connected with it as clearly as when he
was sitting on his horse and watching the fox coming
along the ride.

But if his memory was good, his other faculties
seemed to quicken as his sight gradually declined.
He had been totally blind for some few years, though
it was not at first apparent to a stranger, as his eye

92 HOUND AND HORN ;

was full, and lit up with its old fire when anything
pleased him, or he became a little excited. Two
evidences of this may suffice to prove the truth of
the assertion.

It was in 1883 that I was walking a Tedworth bitch
called " Matchless," and after she had got fairly handy,
and kneAv her way about, she pretty soon found her
way down to old Carter's house, as well as about the
village in general, as all the Milton people of every
class, especially the boys and girls, respect a hound,
and seem to consider him or her their own property.
The consequence is that puppies soon know where
bones and scraps are to be picked up ; and as the old
huntsman's two daughters had much of their father's
nature about them, they pretty frequently received a
visit from Matchless. One afternoon, as the old man
was sitting in his room up stairs, he heard a hound
baying under his window, and, calling to his daughter,
he asked what hound that was in the garden ? Alice,
I believe it was, for I was not jDresent — but she won't
mind my telling it, as she was a rare good girl for
a hound — looked out of the window and replied,

" Oh, 'tis Matchless, father, Mr. G 's puppy." " I

tell you 'tis a dogliound,'' rejoined the old man, " for
/ knoiu the note." Nor was he Avi'ong. Within a mile
of my house " Monitor," the brother of Matchless, was

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 93

at walk, and, as I always knew every puj^py in the
neighbourhood, Monitor was frequently with me, or
rather with Matchless. On my return home I found
he had paid an afternoon call to his playmate,
and, not finding her, without leaving a card, had
gone down the street, and, as was not unusual, looked
in at the old huntsman's. In colour, shape, and size,
the two were exactly alike, so that it was no discredit
to Alice, in looking down from an upstair window, to
mistake the one for the other.

It was in the summer of 1884, and within a few
months of the old man's death, I received a visit from
Colonel Charles Knatchbull, who was staying in the
neighbourhood. 'Now of all the men of former years
that George Carter worshipped, Mr. Knatchbull, of
Cholderton Lodge, was the chief ; and in speaking of
him, as he frequently did, in our many happy hours
together, the old man usually wound up with " Oh,
Mr. Knatchbull were a nice quiet man, and a very
good sportsman."

Durino; the time of Carter's acting^ as huntsman at
Tedworth, Mr. Knatchbull's sons were boys, and as such
came out hunting with their father, but were brought
up to be " nice and quiet," like their sire. They were
not allowed to cock-a-hoop about, and ride anywhere,
like some I have seen since, who may fancy themselves

94 HOUND AND HORN ;

"knowing." George Carter then knew them as boys,
but nothing more. But time works its changes ; boys
become men ; some go away here, some there, to their
farms or merchandise, or what not, and some into
Her Majesty's service. These last, perhaps, visit the
paternal roof- tree less frequently than others, for many
reasons ; and it happened that Mr. Charles Knatchbull
donned the red coat and epaulettes, as they were then
worn, and passed some years of his life on distant
stations. He therefore saw but little of the old hunts-
man, and upon his retiring from the service the old
man had gone into private life. In due course of time
Mr. Knatchbull left Cholderton Lodge for the happy
hunting grounds.

It was not, then, till the boy of former years had
grown into a man and a colonel in Her Majesty's
service, that he once more came to reside in Wiltshire.
But if the father had passed away, he had left a proto-
type of himself in his son, especially in voice, which
was deep and sonorous. It was, then, while he happened
to be at my house one afternoon in 1884, that he ex-
pressed a wish to pay a visit to the old huntsman : and
together we went. He was aware of the old man's
blindness, so it was agreed that he was not to give
any name, nor say who the visitor was. On going
up stairs into his room, I gave him my usual greeting,

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEOKGE CARTER. 95

and added, " Now, old friend, here is some one to call
upon you that you have not seen for many a long day ;
tell me who it is ? " The colonel came forward, and
taking him by the hand, said, " Well, Carter, how are
you ? " The old man started almost out of the chair,
and while his sightless eyes seemed to gleam as if he
saw everything, " Why ! 'tis Mr. Knatchbull ; I know'd
the note." " Well," said I, " old friend, 'taint the Mr.
Knatchbull you mean ; but you may well fancy that
in the one before you his father has risen from the
dead." Time had not dealt treacherously with his
memory, nor dulled his hearing.

How many more little anecdotes in the life of my
old friend could I recount ? Possibly very many ; but
there must be an end to all things, and so there must
to these recollections. Still it may be allowable to
trouble the patience of the reader with just one more
to show the love which the old man retained for the
sport to which he had devoted a lifetime. It was on
the 5th April, 1884, that the Tedworth hounds met for
the last time, to finish the season, and the meet was
" Puthall Gate." We had a very good hunting day, and
killed the last fox handsomely ; and in the evening, on
my return, of course I found myself in the old hunts-
man's room to give him all particulars. We had had
one hour and tvv^enty minutes with our first fox, chiefly

06 HOUND AND HOKN ;

forest hunting, and at the last moment lost him un-
accountably, as will be the case late in the season, and
amongst the fern. The second gave us one hour and
twelve minutes, and getting him away, we rattled him
over the open, till, ringing back, he pointed for Hens-
wood, a large woodland lying not far away from the
forest. Hounds were getting beat, as it was hot,
horses had had enough, and our gallant fox tried
his utmost. It was from scent to view, and still he
struggled on to within about twenty yards of the
covert, when his last efforts were exhausted, and
down he sank never to rise again. Who-whoop to
our fox, and also to the season 1 Now, was it not
allowable to go over this run, point to point, or yard
by yard, in my description of it to one who had been
far away, but who seemed, while seated in his arm-
chair, to have ever3^thing before him ? " Get on, sir, get
on," every now and then broke in the old man, " I see it
all ; don't dwell on a scent." And when we came to the
kill, there came such a ringing " Who-whoop," as one
may never hear again. And then there came, " Here,
Loui ! Alice ! — burn the girls, where are they ? " " Oh,"
said I, " perhaps they are gone up into the garden for
a mouthful of fresh air : what can I get you ? " " Never
mind, sir," said the old man, " they will come ; " and
sure enough at the moment Loui or Alice — never mind

EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 97

which, for they both waited well on their father —
appeared, with " Did you call, father ? " " Call ! "
rejoined the old man, " of course I did ; here, you
go down stairs and bring up one o' those bottles that's
in the cupboard in my room." " Port wine, father ? "
asked the handmaiden. " No, no, no ! " said the old
man, " not port wine, I had my glass o' port wine after
dinner; one o' those long bottles that Mr. So-and-so
sent me, you know." " Oh ! " said the girl, " cham-
pagne ? " " Yes," rejoined the old man, " that's the
stuff — bum the long words ; 'tis the last day o'

hunting, and Mr. G and me is a going to drink

the toast." "Now, old friend," I broke in, "don't
go opening a bottle of champagne for me. You forget
I have not had my dinner yet, and we can't drink a
bottle of champagne now ; have a glass of port wine."
The old huntsman's face grew stern, and looking
earnestly towards me, as if he saw me, came out,
" I beg your pardon, sir, but / am hunting the hounds
now. What's the use of your friends sending cham-
pagne if you ain't to drink it ? You'll be pleased to
sit still, and we will have a bottle on this the last day
of the season ; and I hope it won't be the last with
you, by a good many. / sha'n't never go a hunting no
more, but we will drink ' Fox hunting,' blest if we
don't." The champagne was opened, a part of it

H

98 HOUND AND HORN ;

drunk, and the toast duly honoured. The old man
had his one glass, and I was obliged to practise a
deception on him as to the rest ; for seeing an empty
bottle standing on a table , behind me, after a while
I got hold of it, and letting him feel that it was what
is termed, I believe, " a dead man," I took the one from
which the two glasses were gone, down stairs for the
skirls, and left it for them to finish at their leisure,
under 'the promise they would not betray me.

I believe I have stated that upon his birthday the
old huntsman always appeared in his red coat. It was
on his completing his ninety-first year, that he wore, it for
the last time ; though I have still something to tell
respecting its last appearance, for we shall see it no
more. Perhaps I can hardly do better than give the
paragraph relating to it, which appeared in the County
Gentleman, of December 8th, of that year : " On
Thursday, November 29th, old George Carter, the
veteran huntsman, completed his ninety-first year, and,
as usual on his birthday, came out once more in the
red coat and white waistcoat at dinner, which he
said he could still enjoy. In the evening the toast
' Fox hunting,' was given, and ' we have accounted
for the ninety- first fox, old friend, and with God's
blessing we will handle the ninety-second this day
twelvemonth;' and then came in reply, 'Very good.

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 99

sir, very good. ' Fox hunting ! and there ain't nothing
like it, or I shouldn't be here.' Blessed as the old man
is with health and vigour, and with every faculty but
one — sight — may the toast have its accomplishment."

It never did. It is not an uncommon wish with
man for long life : it may possibly be too long. There
are evil days in which he may find " there is no pleasure
in them," and though there is, doubtless, frequently
good to be derived from these evil days, and the Great
Disposer of all things knows the times and seasons
far better than His weak and erring creatures, who too
generally are blind to His mercies, still, it is but human
nature to fret under discomfort, and so rebel against a
Power that ruleth all things.

The last few years of the old huntsman's life were
not cheery. Blind, and much alone, confined to his
('hair, and eventually to his bedroom, as he had a
difficulty in getting up and down stairs, he might be
justified in the remark he often made, that it was
the hardest ivork he had ever done in his life. He
had, too, several severe attacks of illness towards the
last, which threatened to bring him to his end, but his
iron frame withstood them all ; he still enjoyed his
chats and frequent visits from myself, and one or two
others who occasionally looked in on him ; and his
love for hunting was as keen as ever. He wanted

100 HOUND AND HORN ;

to know during the season what hounds were doing, and
the events of each day, when they could be given him :
but with all this he did not forget other things, and
frequently spoke with gratitude of the blessings he
enjoyed, and of the wonderful way his life had been
prolonged. He was not a thoughtless or a hardened
man — far from it — but in his own unsophisticated way
was preparing for that great change which he felt must
soon come upon him.

I am not going to divulge what took place between
my dear old friend and myself in the sanctity of his
chamber ; but this I say with truth and firm belief, that
George Carter was an honest, upright. God-fearing man,
during the time I knew Tnost of him, and that was to-
wards the latter end of his life ; and if it may be said
by any who knew him in his prime — should any such be
left — that he was hasty or passionate in the field or else-
where, I would only ask, " What are you ? What am
I ? And which of us is so faultless as to take up the
stone ? "

Towards the last few days which remained to the old
man on earth, a visible change took place in him.
There was no sign of illness, but still he seemed
to know his end was at hand, and he was prepared
for it. His mental faculties were clear, and his voice
strong, till he rambled away into scenes, probably of

RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 101

former years, and then gradually subsided into a calm,
the precursor of death.

On the night of November 21st he passed away.
It hardly seemed death, but a simple stepping across
the boundary between time and eternity. He had
not quite reached his ninety-second birthday, but was
within view of it. Seven days more (for it was
'twixt night and morning that he died) would have
entitled him to another figure on his coffin lid ; but
it was not to be.

His funeral, which took place in Milton church-
yard on the Wednesday following, was attended by
many from a distance, as well as by those who had
lived around him.

Tli^ old red coat and hunting cap did duty for
the last time, as they lay upon the pall; and when
the form of the old huntsman descended to its last
resting-place, the livery of the chase went with him.
He had never disgraced them in life, and they were
no disgrace to him now. There let them lie ; and
when Hound and Horn shall be no more, ma}^ the
old huntsman be found ready.

Somehow, as if by common consent, one by one, men
dropped into a dining-room not far from where they
had seen their old friend to OTound : a table was laid for
any who might wish to refresh the inner man before

102 HOUND AND HOEN.

hurrying away again. There was not much said, but it
seemed Kke the last meet of the season ; and then, one
by one the glasses were filled and remained untouched,
till a deep and sonorous voice gave out, " Fox hunting !
To the memory of the grandest man that ever stood
upon the flags, or carried a horn at his saddle-bow —

GEORGE CARTER."

A plain, but very handsome and massive stone of
pure blue pennant will mark the spot in Milton
churchyard where the old huntsman lies at rest, and
show to generations to come how a man who faithfully
discharges the duties of his calling in life is not for-
gotten in death. The list of contributors to this
memorial shall speak for itself The inscription is
as follows : —

tjno tSf Mtinoty; of

GEOEGE CAETEK,

THE GREAT HUNTSMAN,

BORN AT BEOMFIELD, SALOP, NOVEMBER 29TH, 1792,
DIED AT MILTON, WILTS, NOVEMBER 21ST, 1884 ;

{CAPdUED THE HORN WITH
THE OAKLEY, HON. GRANTLEY BERKELEY,

FROM 1831 TO 1833 ;

HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON,
WHITTLEBURY FOREST,

FEOM 1833 TO 1842;

THE TEDWORTH,
MR. THOMAS ASSHETON SMITH,

FROM 1842 TO 1865,
WITHOUT FEAR AND WITHOUT REPROACH.)

THIS STONE IS RAISED BY THOSE WHO SO KNEAV
HIM m LIFE AS TO RESPECT HIM IN DEATH.

€art^ to (JTErllj.

m MEMORIAM.

The Duke of Beaufort, M.F.H. . . . Badminton.

The Duke of Grafton Euston Hall.

The Duke of Wellington Strathfieldsaye.

The Lady Charles Wellesley .... Conholt Park.

The Marquis of Aylesbury Savernake Forest.

The Earl of Radnor Longford Castle.

The Earl of Portsmouth, M.F.H. . . Eggesford.

The Lord Penrhyn Penrhyn Castle.

The Marquis of Worcester Badminton.

Lord Algernon St. Maur Wilcot Manor.

Lady Algernon St. Maur „

Lieut. -Col. Lord Arthur Wellesley . . Grenadier Guards.
Hon. G. Douglas Pennant, M.F.H. . . Wicken Park.

Sir Edmond Antrobus, Bart Amesbury.

Sir J. D. Astley, Bart Elsham Hall.

Sir William Humphrey, Bart Half Moon Street.

Lady Humphrey „ „

Major Percy St. Maur Royal Fusiliers.

Mr. Ernest St. Maur Wilcot Manor.

Lieut.-Col. Antrobus Grenadier Guards.

Mrs. Slade Gully Standen House.

CoL Charles Knatchbull

IN MEMORIAM. 105

Mr. Wyndham Knatchbull Babington.

Col. Norton Knatclibull Clatford Manor.

Mr. Wadham Knatchbull Sherborne.

Col. Everett Greenliill.

Mrs. Everett „

Mr. Selby Lowndes, M.F.H Wlmddon Hall.

Mr. J, N. Astley Ansley Hall.

Mr. Fowle Chute Lodge.

Mrs. Fowle „

Mrs. Fowle (Formerly) Chute Lodge.

Mr. F. A. S. Locke Kowdeford.

Capt. Rawson Trafford Stowell Lodge.

Mrs. Rawson Trafford „

Miss Ida C. Badeley „

Mr. Brewer Garlogs.

Mrs. Brewer „

Miss Brewer „

Mr. Best Red Rice.

Mr. Frank Browne Wilton.

Mr. T. Pain Audley Wood.

Mrs. Pain „

Mr. Rooke Rawlence

Mr. Arkwright, M.F.H " Oakley," Knuston.

Mrs. Bidwell Warminster.

Mr. Fitzherbert Macdonald Salisbury.

Mr. W. Everett

Mr. J. Everett Bournemouth.

Dr. Blake

Mr. Stephen Allen Eastover.

Mr. Richard Judd Winterslow.

Mr. Souter Haymarket.

Mr. A. Ingram Wylie.

Mr. J, Linnell Paulersferry.

Mr. Lamb Andover,

lOG IN MEMORIAM.

Mrs, Lamb Andover.

Mr. G. Stagg

Mr. Charles Pain . Westover.

Mr. Criswick Child Hurstbourne, Tarrant.

Mr. Bound ,, „

Mrs. G. Miles „ „

Mr. Dowling Foxcotte Manor.

Mr. Merriman Marlborough.

Mr. E. Fullerton South Kensington.

Mr. George Everett Bournemouth.

Mr. J. H. Richardson Marlborough College.

Mr. Cusse Chrisenbury Priory.

Mr. Bailey Pewsey.

Mr. S. B. Dixon „

Mrs. Dixon „

Mr. F. Cullev " Star " Hotel, Helston.

Mr. C. Perkins Marlborough.

Mr. Tudor Johnson War Office.

Mr. W. H. Gale Burbage.

Mr. Henry Browne JVIonkton.

Mr. W. P. Hayward Kennett.

Mr. S. Ferris Bradford-on-Avon.

Mr. G. Ferris Milton.

Mr. J. B. Somerset Cairo, Egypt.

Rev. G. B. Astley Cadeby Rectory.

Rev. A. A. Astley Everley.

Rev. F. Dyson Cricklade.

Rev. W. H. Awdry Ludgersliall .

Mrs. Awdry „

Rev. C. Soames Mildenhall.

Mr. C. Soames „

Miss Soames „

Rev. J. H. Gale . Milton.

Mrs. Gale „

IN MEMORIAM. 107

The Misses Gale Milton.

Lieut. W. H. J. Gale H.M.S. Rapid.

Mr. E. H. Gale Edinburgh.

Mr. Kingstone Bromsgrove.

Mr. W. J. Kingstone „

Mr. J. W. Kingstone „

Mr. J. Haines East Wick.

Mr. Marsh Fyfield.

Mr. Gilbert Milton.

Mr. John Fricker Huntsman, Tedworth.

Mr. William Dollery Stud Groom, Tedworth.

John Bevins First Whip.

John Thatcher Second Whip.

Mr. J. T. Powell Easton Royal.

EsTo Perpetua.

Richard Clay & Sons,
bread street hill, london, ec.

And at Binii/ay, Suffolk.

Vilebster Family Library of Veterinary iVledicin^
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200 Westboro Road
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