LIBRARY

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

SANTA BARBARA

PRESENTED BY

DUNCAN AND

FREDRIKA BRENT

THE ,L1FE

L— - —

OF

A SPORTSMAN

BY NIMROD
//

WITH THIRTY-SIX COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS
BY HENRY ALKEN

A NEW EDITION

NEW YORK

D. APPLETON & COMPANY
1903

NOTE

HP HIS Issue is founded on the Edition
published by Rudolph Ackermann in
the year 1842.

PREFACE

MY design and object in writing this work was not
merely to depict the life of a sportsman, in the
general — perhaps, with some persons, unfavourable —
acceptation of that term, but, taking higher ground, to
portray the character of an English gentleman attached
to the sports and pastimes of his country ; and, likewise,
to give a sketch of a country gentleman's family, in as
close imitation as possible of those of the best descrip-
tion, with which it has been my good fortune to become
acquainted. In fact, in many instances, the imitation, or
resemblance, is so close, as not to be doubtful to many as
to who are the original parties ; and they themselves
cannot be displeased with my selection, when they are
intended to be displayed as exemplars worthy of being
followed by others.

The plan, or outline, of this half-true, half -fictitious
story, is soon told. It is, as has already been observed,
descriptive of a country gentleman, of large fortune and
highly connected, having two sons and two daughters.
He himself is a sportsman, but only to a certain extent ;
that is to say, he does not aspire to fox-hunting, but keeps
a first-rate pack of harriers, and is also a good shot. His
eldest son has nothing sporting in his constitution, but has
all the good qualities that adorn and exalt our nature, and
for which, of course, full credit is given him. The hero
of my tale is the younger son, who, differing in taste from
his brother, enters into the sports of the field at a very
early age, and becomes a thorough sportsman, in the
legitimate sense of that, often wrongly applied, term.
How far I have succeeded in portraying him as such, my
readers must be my j udges ; I can only say, I have made
him follow, as nearly as I was able, in the footsteps of
those who, within my time and knowledge, have become

vi PREFACE

the most eminent sportsmen of their day, both by " flood
and field."

It would be unfaithful to nature, and, therefore, un-
worthy of my pen, were I to represent my young hero as
totally guiltless of those common failings to which in-
experienced youth is, for the most part, liable ; but 1 have
taken especial care to keep him clear of all vicious pro-
pensities which disgrace the gentleman and the Christian.
In furtherance of this purpose, then, I occasionally place
him in a dangerous position, the result of overweening
confidence in others, so natural to ingenuous youth ; but
rescue him, in due time, partly by his own proper prin-
ciples, and also by the timely assistance of a faithful and
generous friend. These little aberrations are the result
of his quitting the noble and health-giving sports of the
field for the dangerous seductions of the race-course,
which involve him in considerable difficulties, by the
expenses attendant on keeping race-horses in the first
instance, and by the treacherous conduct of his trainer, in
the second.

The situation in which I place my hero with his uncle
is drawn from real life, and with but few exaggerations or
additions. No doubt there are many such uncles, and
many such nephews ; and the moral to be drawn from
the relative situations in which I place the two in question,
may be neither uninstructive nor useless. Indeed, it has
been my design, throughout the entire of the work, to
impart to it a moral tone, so that, should those who may
read it not rise the better from the perusal, it will be
their own fault, and not mine. At all events, there is
nothing in the sentiments expressed, or the examples put
forth, to make them anywise the worse.

In his character as a sportsman, I make my hero com-
mence with the lowest branches of the art, of which rat-
catching is, I believe, the type. He thence proceeds to the
rabbit and the badger, progressing, gradually, to the higher
sports of the field, and finishes as a Leicestershire fox-
hunter, and a horseman of the first class. I have also
made him a coachman— that is to say, an ardent amateur
of the coach-box, characteristic of the era in which I
place him, which is, as nearly as may be, my own. In
truth, here I am myself, in some respects, his exemplar.
He commences with his pony in harness, as I myself did.
He then becomes a pupil of a celebrated coachman on his

PREFACE vii

road, as was my own case ; and, at length, he is not only
considered safe — that is, fit to be trusted with the ribbons
— but possesses as much execution on the coach-box as
falls to the lot of most aspirants to the very difficult art ;
and at length I place him in a very trying situation. By
the death of his elder brother, his uncle, and his father,
he becomes possessed of great wealth, and he does not
abuse the boon. On the contrary, he endeavours to
follow his father's example in fulfilling the duties of his
station, and I leave him in the possession of the esteem of
his neighbours and friends, without which the riches of a
Crccsus afford little real satisfaction to the possessor of
them.

Then I had another object in my view. The most
careless observer of the course of worldly affairs must be
aware that — as has been the case in all ages — in propor-
tion as a country has arrived at the highest pitch of
wealth and refinement, the taste for the humble, but
nearly unalloyed pleasures of a country life, has more or
less declined.

A tendency to this decline has been, to a certain extent,
observable in our own land, and fears have been expressed,
lest the noblest of all our country sports — fox-hunting—-
may yield to this chilling, if not demoralizing influence.
For my own part, I do not think it will. I entertain
that opinion of the force of the almost natural passion
for hunting, and other manly diversions which has ever
distinguished Englishmen from all other nations under
the sun, that induces me to believe it will continue to
uphold fox-hunting as the pride and boast of all our
national pastimes. We, however, do occasionally hear
unpleasant forebodings to the contrary. " Eailroads," says
one croaker on the subject, "spoil all hunting countries
through which they pass, and one is about to traverse the
cream of the Leicestershire hunts." " In a few years,"
cries another, " Paris and Brussels will be accessible in a
few hours, as our fashionable watering-places already are."
" Melton Mowbray falls off," exclaims a third, " no new
settlers in the town, and the old ones will soon be giving
up." "Young men leave off hunting after about their
third season," says a fourth. " When many of the present
masters of foxhounds shall be taken from us, none will be
found masters in their stead, beyond a third or fourth
season," cries a fifth. " Game preserves, and the accursed
b

viii PREFACE

system of steeple- racing, is destructive of the sportsmanlike
manner of riding to hounds, to the great discomfort of
their owners," says a sixth.

I am aware there is truth in some of these remarks,
consequently cause for alarm ; and it is on this account
that 1 have, in these pages, striven to the utmost to give
a high colour to a country life, and to represent the
real modern sportsman, such as I find him to be— a
character not excelled in ingenuous feelings, in liberal
conduct, in extreme hospitality, in sincerity of friendship
and all other social virtues, by any class in which it has
been my lot to move. Where, indeed, was there a fairer
or better specimen to be found than in the late Mr. Warde,
fifty-seven years a master of foxhounds, and, therefore,
called— "The Father of the Field?" Who ever heard
him utter an ill-natured word respecting anyone, either
living or dead ? Where was there a kinder friend, or a
better neighbour ? and, above all things, where was his
equal as a companion ? Neither can I stop here in
my panegyric on this fine specimen of the old English
country gentleman and sportsman. Rough as was his
exterior, Mr. Warde was accomplished and well informed,
and capable of adapting his conversation to any society
into which he might be thrown. In short, it is a matter
of doubt whether there has existed a man, whose name has
not been long before the public, either in the capacity of
a senator, a soldier, a sailor, or an author, so universally
known as Mr. Warde, of Squerries, in Kent, was to
Englishmen, in all quarters of the globe. Let me, how-
ever, not be understood to exhibit him as a pattern, in all
respects, for young men of the present day to imitate.
Although, doubtless, the somewhat rough exterior which
he adopted, was, in great part, adopted for the sake of
effect to the tout ensemble of his character, still a more
polished one than his was, may now be required, in con-
formity to the increased refinement of the age.

In the following pages, there may be something to
amuse if not to instruct the female mind. At all events,
there is a little love-making, and its results ; and there is
one instance of a narrow escape by my young hero, of the
almost inevitable consequences of an unlawful attachment.
Upon the whole, however, the bright side of human nature
is displayed, and the cultivation of cheerfulness and good
humour earnestly recommended as the sovereign antidote

PREFACE ix

to those mental disorders — peevishness and discontent —
which distract the mind, and increase the evils of life,
without even the chance of either removing or lightening
them. Cheerfulness and good humour are the harbingers
of virtue, and produce that serenity which disposes the
mind to friendship, love, gratitude, and every other
social affection. They make us contented with ourselves,
our friends, and our situation, and expand the heart to
all the interests of humanity. It is in this spirit, then,
that I have written, as others more worthy of the task
have done before me — in that of Lucretius, indeed, when
he penned the following lines :

"Sed veluti pneria absinthia tetra medentes
Cum dare conantur, prius eras pocula circum
Contingunt mellis dulci flavoque liquore."

NIMROD.
Ju, e 24th, 1842.

CONTENTS

I. Introductory — The hero presented — Items of his
birth, parentage, and education ; together with
traits of his idiosyncrasy, whereby "coming events
cast their shadows before "..... 1

II. The first great step in the life of our "Sportsman :"
he is entered at hare — The chapter concludes with
many choice aphorisms concerning the noble
science, and sundry anecdotes, worthy of being
recorded in letters of gold 22

III. Devoted to rural scenes and characters, and combin-

ing matter of amusement and instruction, with
maxims of sound theory, and examples well
worthy of imitation .54

IV. The hero enters upon the stage of life, and also on

another stage, which, with various incidents
narrated in this chapter, will be found corrobora-
tive of the adage, that— "as the twig is bent, the
tree's inclined " 65

V. Christmas at the seat of "a fine old English gentle-
man," with its appropriate accompaniments — good
company, good cheer, and good sport ... 78

VI. College life, with some sketches of men and manners
at Oxford, in the latter part of the last century —
Bibury Meeting in its palmy days . . 87

VII. A trip to Ascot races, succeeded by an inquiry into
the systems and methods of travelling, from the
earliest ages to the golden age of the road in England 108

VIII. Rural life in hall and field ; a ball and a wound

(consequences alike common in love and war) . 136

xii CONTENTS

CHAP. PAOK

1 X. Two events occur, of great influence upon the career
of the hero : he takes his degree at Oxford, and
loses his brother, whereby he becomes heir to the
goodly domains of Amstead 151

X. Our sportsman has now entered in earnest upon his
life. He refuses a seat in Parliament, and studies
his craft with enthusiasm, opening his first regular
hunting campaign with, the Warwickshire, under
the celebrated Mr. Corbet, and the Pytchley,
under the great John Warde. . . . .165

XI. The debut in Leicestershire — Frank Raby hunts with
the Quoru under Lord Sefton, with Lord Lonsdale's,
and with the Duke of Rutland's hounds . . 182

XII. A sample of a young sportsman's life in London —
A near thing for the Oaks at Epsom, and a close
shave for the Oaks at Amstead .... 199

XIII. A season with Sir Thomas Mostyu, in the Bicester

country, with anecdotes of some of the leading
sportsmen in the provinces at that day, and a
glance at " home, sweet home " .... 219

XIV. A few words on summering hunters. Mr. Corbet's

country and men, and the finish of the season
with the Atherstone ...... 244

XV. The death of Mr. Beaumont Raby, and the installa-
tion of the hero into a regular sporting establish-
ment, the details of which are given at some length 263

XVI. The B.D.C. and B.C.M. Our sportsman makes a
tour, in which he visits many of the most cele-
brated fox-hunting establishments in England . 310

XV IF. Frank Raby becomes a regular Meltouian ; loses his
father, and finally settles down as a master of fox-
hounds, the point of honour in the Life of a
Sportsman 356

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Amstead Abbey Frontispiece

Emblematic Title — " The Life of a Sportsman " . To face ditto
" Yoicks ! Tally-ho ! Look out for the pastry " . . Pags 13
" He'll leather two such chaps as that !" . . . .18

"Soho!" 23

Bagging the badger ........ 27

"You are worth double what i gave for you ! " . . . 38

" He's heart of oak !" 43

Portrait of Dick Knight, after B. Marshall .... 49

" His reverence swims like a cork !" .... .50

" ' Who-whoop ! I've done it ! " . . . . . .55

Hunting the marten cat ........ 56

The otter hunt 58

" What's the price of the young nag, miller <" ... 61

The shallows below the mill 63

The Prince of Wales — Birmingham coach .... 76

" H. for Windsor ; go along, Bob !" 80

" Never mind 'em, — they won't hurt !" 89

Bibury meeting in its palmy days ..... 97

The tandem 98

<f All Captain Askham's. sir " % 117

" He is among the dead" ....... 119

Flapper-shooting on the great lake in the Park . . . 146
*' Mr. Ridge ways' good health — now" ..... 151

" Follow my leader " ........ 192

A meet with his Grace the Duke of Rutland .... 196

A night scene with Sir Thomas Mostyn ..... 221

xiv LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

" Not Handel's sweet music more pleases the ear, '| «or
Than that of the hounds in full cry " J ' '

"The check" — "For a moment a sheep-foil now baffles the

scent" .......... 256

The four-in-hand ......... 288

The three teams ...... . . . . 297

The race for the Welter Stakes ...... 320

" Fox-hunting for ever ! " ....... 330

Mr. Musters hunted by his hounds ..... 348

Our hero's first run with his own hounds .... 395

" The Master of the Raby Hunt, — one cheer more " . . 396

THE

LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

CHAPTEE I

Introductory — The hero presented — Items of his birth, parentage,
and education, together with traits of his idiosyncrasy, whereby
"coming events cast their shadows before."

IX the latter part of the last century, in one of the
finest of the midland counties of England, lived
Andrew Raby, a commoner, of large possessions, and of
very old English blood. When, however, I use the
term "large possessions," I do not desire to convey the
idea of his having an income sufficient to keep up a
degree of pomp and dignity equal to that of his titled
superiors, but such as enabled him fully to support the
respectable and honourable station of an English country
gentleman, and to indulge in all those pursuits which
were congenial to his own taste, and, likewise, to exercise
almost unbounded hospitality towards his friends. In
fact, his rental was a little above ten thousand pounds
per annum ; which, when the usual drawbacks of agencies,
repairs, and other heavy outgoings attendant on landed
property, in addition to an annuity he paid to a sister,
were deducted, left him — for he had no interest of money
to pay to mortgagees (indeed it was his boast, that no
lawyer held as much parchment security of his as would
cover a crown piece) — a clear annual income of seven
thousand pounds ; at least he reckoned not on more, on
a fair average of years. With this comparatively limited
income, he inhabited a house suitable for a man of twice
his means. It covered three sides of a quadrangular
court ; displaying a sumptuous character in its archi-
tectural ornaments without, and containing elegant and

2 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

i

spacious apartments within. Planned after the fashion
of the Elizabethan age, Amstead Abbey stood on an
island, formed by a deep moat, and within the palings
of an extensive and finely timbered park, containing a
herd of deer sufficiently ample for the use of a private
gentleman ; the gardens, too, were large, no less than
three hundred yards of "glass" — as forcing houses are
technically denominated — being visible in them, exclusive
of hot walls. A farm of three hundred acres of the best
staple land of the county was in occupation, under the
eye of a Scotch bailiff; and, having been conducted on
improved principles, it greatly outstripped its neighbours
in its produce, and turned to a very profitable account :
the surrounding country was also of the richest and
most valuable description.

Mr. Raby's establishment consisted, indoors, of a butler
and two footmen, with all the requisite females, and was
only deficient in one respect — it wanted the man cook to
aid the English kitchen-maid ; but against this there was
a prejudice which time has since removed. At the period
to which I allude, there was an objection against these
chefs of the kitchen, on the score of wasteful extravagance
in their operations ; experience, however, has since shown
that their art is practised to advantage in all large
establishments. By the almost magical power of the
rechauffoir, the remains of yesterday's dinner instead of
being looked lightly upon, if not in great part cast to
the dogs, are sent smoking and savoury into the servants'
hall, and so disguised as to leave the inmates of it in
doubt whether the dishes are rechauffes or not. His
woman cook, however, was as good as high wages could
procure, and his guests had no cause for complaint. But
the style of living was truly English, and, as such, the
assistance of Monsieur was less necessary ; the consumption
of animals was prodigious from the numbers of comers
and goers, in addition to the family itself; and did a
sirloin of beef make its appearance on a Sunday, and a
round on the Monday, they might be looked for in vain
on the Tuesday.

There was one species of luxury — refinement, indeed,
it may be termed, in reference to those times — in which
Mr. Raby indulged ; and this was the selection of his
footmen and postillions. The first were London-bred ;
he declared that he never saw a country-bred footman

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 3

who could bring a message into a room, or an under-butler
of the same genus, who could clean a service of plate;
and no man's table in the country was better set out than
Mr. Raby's. Of his coach-horses he was justly proud, and
he liked to see them ridden and driven to his mind. His
postillions — for in those days gentlemen's carriages in
the country were not driven from the box — were always
Hounslow-bred ones ; that is to say, sons of Hounslow
post-boys, having had their education on the road. His
turn-out, in this respect, was perfect.

The out-of-doors establishment was still more numerous.
There was a pack of harriers in the kennel, six able coach-
horses in one stable, ten hunters in another, besides a hack
or two to go to post, or to carry " how do ye do's " about the
country — no sinecure in those days : a capital team oi
spaniels for cock-shooting, pointers and setting dogs for
partridges and hares, under the care of an experienced
gamekeeper, and a small kennel of greyhounds to contend
for the prizes at the neighbouring coursing meetings. One
appendage to the present establishment of an English
gentleman, however, was wanting ; I mean a band of
night-watchers to protect the game from poachers, an
operation beyond the power of any single keeper. And
yet it is not to be supposed that there were no poachers of
game in those days, as, in that case, Fielding's Black George
would have been an anachronism ; but the battue system
was unknown. Still, of pheasants, there was a sprinkling
in the woods of this estate ; and the delight which the
Squire and his friends experienced when they saw Juno
on the foot of a pheasant, and the bird shot dead to her
point, more than equalled that afforded by a battue of three
hundred head in one day, the game being put up by stable-
boys, without the use of dogs, the Newfoundland retriever
excepted.

But the reader may well ask how all this was done on an
income of seven thousand pounds. — By management, in the
first place ; and, in the next, by only occasionally visiting
London for the season, Mr. Raby having little inclination
for the bustle and hurry of a town life ; and Lady Charlotte
(he had married an Earl's daughter) had likewise the good
sense to be satisfied with what she had seen of it, in its best
form, during her residence with her father in Grosvenor
Square. But the " management ! " that calls forth some
remarks.

4 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

As procrastination is the thief of time, payment delayed
is a thief of another description. It is not, per se, a robber,
but it opens the door to robbery of every description ; and
gentlemen who require long credit, pay twenty per cent, at
least for it. Mr. Raby, however, went on quite another
tack in the conduct of his expenditure. In lieu of paying
a bonus, that is, what is called the " put-on-price " for long
credit, he received a discount by paying ready money for
everything purchased in London, or other distant places ;
and, in his own immediate neighbourhood, on the first
Monday in every month, all his small bills were discharged.
He had the list of them on his dressing-table, when he
came down from his chamber in the morning, and, having
examined the items, and found them correct, wrote a
cheque on his banker for the amount. He reckoned that
by this arrangement he saved five hundred pounds per
annum, which about paid his wine-merchant's bill. It is
scarcely necessary to add that, exclusive of any other con-
sideration, this punctuality in the disbursement of a large
income rendered Mr. Raby very popular in his neighbour-
hood ; and knowing, from experience of the world^ that

When the means are gone that buy this praise,
The breath is gone whereof this praise is made,

he never deviated from the practice to the last year of his
life. In fact, so much esteemed was he, as a gentleman
and a landlord, that he might have represented his county
in Parliament, had he been disposed so to have done ; but
either from a disinclination to take the onus of so respon-
sible a situation upon himself, or, it might have been,
from a mistrust of his ability to do justice to it, it devolved
upon a neighbouring baronet. Still, let it not be supposed
that Mr. Raby was a man of mere animal life, given to
decry the value of literary attainments, averse to the
fashionable refinements of that polished age, much less
insensible to the common feelings of our nature. Far
from it, no man indulged more in those sympathies which
unite landlord and tenant, master and servant, in a bond
of reciprocal kindness and good offices, nor more strictly
performed the higher duties of his station. But his chief
purpose was this : — he wished to be considered, as nearly
as his nature would admit, a perfect specimen of the English
country gentleman, whose head modern philosophy had not
yet enlightened, at the expense of the best feelings of the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 5

heart ; unsophisticated by foreign fopperies ; a man whose
character could face the world, and whose spirit would
not fear it. Again, this maxim was often in his mouth :
" Wealth,'" he would say, " is not his who possesses it, hut
his who enjoys it ; " and he acted up to the moral of it.
" Lcetus uliis, sapiens sibi," he loved to see his friends
enjoying themselves by his means ; and, as regarded him-
self, his object was to gather the rose and leave the thorn
behind.

Mr. Raby, however, being the father of my hero, I must
now speak of him in the capacity of a sportsman ; and a
sportsman he was, although but to a certain extent. In the
first place, he was not a fox-hunter, but confined himself
to his harriers, which were quite perfect of their kind —
indeed, the crack pack of all the neighbouring counties.
And well might they be such, for the breed had been pre-
served and improved upon, for more than half a century
by his father and himself ; and, from the number of walks
he had for puppies amongst his own tenants, and those of
his neighbours, he bred as many young hounds every year,
to make a choice of, as some masters of foxhounds. Then
his hunting establishment was perfect ; and, as regarded
horses, at least, not far from being equal to that necessary
for foxhounds hunting only three days in the week. He
kept ten slapping hunters for himself and his two men ;
and he never had less than forty couples of working hounds
in his kennel. Nor must I pass over the manner in which
his pack were turned out. As for themselves, they were,
as I have already observed, perfect. There was not an inch
between any one and another in height ; their form was
that of the modern foxhound in miniature ; their tongues
light, but musical, and their condition as perfect as their
form. His huntsman was likewise a model of his order,
having been the grandson of one man, and the son of
another, who had filled the same situation in life ; he was,
therefore, well bred for his calling. He was, however,
what is called " a character," a bundle of vagaries in his
way. In the first place, although a horseman of the first
class, he was difficult to be suited with horses ; neither
did he fancy any that he had not himself made choice of.
And even here appeared the " character." He would take
a fancy to animals by no means likely to make hunters,
but which, as though instinct directed him in his election,
seldom failed in turning out such. The mention of one

6 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

of these animals, in fact, is now in the mouths of some old
men in the parish, when speaking of Dick, the Squire's
huntsman, and his lop-eared horse, which he purchased
out of a neighbouring gentleman's coach-stable. Mounted
on this horse, however, Dick was in his element ; beauti-
fully did he ride him to the music of his crack pack, and,
did he espy among his field any gentlemen whom he knew
to have hunted in Leicestershire (he designated all such
" your silver-handled sportsmen "), awful must have been
the fence that turned him ten yards from his line, when
his hounds were on a good scent.

Nor was Dick less notable in the field. He "did the
trick " in a style differing from his brother huntsmen of
the scut, and, to manifest his superiority by quitting the
beaten track, hunted his pack as if they had been fox-
hounds. He tallyhoed his hares when they were in view ;
hallooed his hounds forward, cap in hand, to a point ; and,
by forcing his game to fly beyond their knowledge of the
country in which they were bred, had runs of extra-
ordinary duration. In fact, such was the speed of these
harriers, from the head they carried in chase, the result of
the care taken in the breeding of them, that many first-
rate hunters — ay, and hunters of fame too — have been
blown to a dead stand-still, in the attempt to lie by the
side of them in a burst, when the ground has been tender
under their feet, and the scent good ; and yet no man had
more patience than Dick, when his hounds were brought
down to their noses by the stain from cattle or sheep, or
by a passing cloud or storm. Here he was the hare-
hunter ; and often has been the time when success has
rewarded his patience, after that of his field had been
exhausted. What did you do with your last hare ? would
be the question put to him many times during the season,
by Mr. Eaby, on his return home, he himself having left
in a moment of despair. " I persevered, sir, and killed
her," was the general reply.

Mr. Raby pursued one practice connected with his hunt-
ing, which might, with advantage, be more generally
observed. He provided his huntsman with a book, in
which were inserted the names of all the occupiers of
land over which he sported, and he ordered that a hare
should be given to each in his turn, and oftentimes twice,
during the season.

But Mr. Eaby was not a fox-hunter ; for, in the first

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 7

place, although an elegant horseman, and an excellent
judge of the animal, he was not a strong-nerved man over
a country. He was shy of timber and wide brooks, and,
therefore, judiciously avoided entering into a pursuit in
which he was aware he could not shine. Next, he was
bred up a hare-hunter, and considered that the act of
confining his attention to one sort of hunting would be
the surest means of perpetuating the fame of his father's
kennel, if not of increasing it: Thirdly, he had numerous
duties to perform as a magistrate, and otherwise, exclusive
of those of his own domestic station, which were less inter-
rupted by the gentler pursuit of the hare ; but when the
foxhounds appeared in his neighbourhood, he would often
see them find their fox, and they were nearly certain to
do so in any of his own covers. Had a keeper of his
levelled his gun at a fox, or designedly caught him in a
trap, he would have been discharged on the morrow, as
having committed a flagrant disobedience of orders.

Neither was Mr. Eaby a racing man. To speak the
truth, although qiiiet, even to diffidence, in his deportment,
there was in his nature an ambition to excel in what he
attempted. His estate was the best conditioned in his
county ; his harriers were, perhaps, the best of that day
in England ; his pointers and setting dogs — for he used
the latter to the net — were perfect of their kind ; and his
breed of spaniels was sought after by every sportsman who
had heard of it. But he was aware that, had he sought
for it, excellence on the turf was out of his reach. Even
the legitimate means of insuring success, as the experience
of many of his friends had convinced him, were doubtful ;
the illegitimate ones he would not have availed himself of,
if presented to him.

There is one part of Mr. Baby's conduct as a sportsman
of which notice should not, on any account, be omitted,
inasmuch as it affords an example highly worthy of
imitation by all whose means give them the power. I
allude to the generous care he took of his worn-out
hunters and coach-horses, in lieu of the too common
practice of selling them for trifling sums, and exposing
them to severe labour when least able to endure it. He
had, after the manner of a master of foxhounds of the
present day,1 a range of pastures sacred to the repose of
these pensioners on his bounty, in which they enjoyed
1 The Viscount Kelburne.

8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

themselves in perfect freedom from labour, and in full
supply of all that old age requires. Each of the fields had
a comfortable shed, to which they could resort, to protect
themselves from cold in winter, as well as from the gad-
fly in the summer, and in which, in the first-named
season, was the well-furnished hay-crib, and, occasionally,
still more nourishing food. Mr. Eaby took a pleasure
in exhibiting these pensioners to his friends. " These
animals have been all valuable sei'vants to me," he would
say, on such occasions, " and have strong claims upon my
protection. That roan gelding, which has now scarcely a
leg to support his body upon, carried me, with my hounds,
thirteen seasons, and only, to my recollection, gave me
five falls, two of which were not to be laid to his account.
He was once as proud and prancing as he is now humble
and decrepid, and, I fear, I shall soon be obliged to have
an end put to his days, as a lesser evil of two. Yon milk-
white horse — once a dark iron-grey, dragging his slow
length along — was, in the days of his youth, for I bred
him, such a roving, riotous fellow, that no hedge or gate
could keep him within bounds, and it was a day's work to
catch him. Then, when caught, he was no horse for me ;
but as I happened at that time to have a sort of dare-devil
lad, as whipper-in, who valued him for his skittishness
and impetuosity, he made him an excellent hunter. Now
such was precisely the character of this lad himself, who,
after rather a wild, but not vicious career, sobered down,
like his colt, into an excellent servant, and lived with me,
as a whipper-in, till his death, which was occasioned by a
bad fall, but not from that horse. In fact, the horse and
his rider appeared to reform themselves together. But
the most extraordinary animal here is that strawberry-
coloured mare, which you see reposing in the shade. She
was purchased out of a hack-chaise, for the sum of twenty-
five guineas, by my huntsman, who took a fancy to her ;
and, although, as you will perceive, showing no signs of
high breeding, nor yet of much speed, she proved the best
hunter, for the weight she had to carry, I have ever yet
seen. It is evident that neither her sire nor her dam
could have been of pure racing blood ; but report says that
the latter was brought into this county by some gipsies
from the New Forest, in Hampshire, and hence her
excellence is accounted for. She was, I am inclined to
think, the produce of the celebrated Marske, the sire of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 9

Eclipse, who covered mares — Xew Forest ponies amongst
them, of course — at the low price of one guinea. In her
best days, it was difficult to blow this mare in a burst : no
fence that could be jumped by a horse could pound her ;
nor did I ever know her to come home to the stable tired,
after the longest day's work. She is now, however, as
you will perceive by her languid eye, her distended
carcass, low back, and fallen crest, in extreme old age, the
evils of which I have taken some pains to alleviate, in
consideration of her fourteen years' services, and I rejoice
in the reflection that a large offer did not induce me to
part with her when in her prime."

Having sketched the character of Mr. Raby, that of his
lady shall follow, and a few words will suffice. It has
already been said that Lady Charlotte Raby was an Earl's
daughter. By uniting herself in marriage to a commoner,
she had descended a step in society, according to the
opinion of the world, although, in her own eyes her
husband was ennobled beyond the power of a coronet
to dignify him, by his conduct as a man and a hus-
band. Neither did she look back with regret towards
the theatre of her early life, in which her charms and
accomplishments had met with universal admiration. She
had enjoyed nearly seven years of what is called the
fashionable London World, and that in all its glory ; and
she had had enough of it. She had become the wife of a
country gentleman, and was the mother of four children ;
and she learnt, from the experience of the first seven years
of so very different a life, this great moral truth : — that,
although pleasure, amusement, and oblivion of self are to
be found in the ballroom or at the opera, and, although
they occasionally hover around the stranger's hearth, still
of all the sources of human happiness, domestic life is the
richest and most productive ; and had Lady Charlotte
Raby read Horace, she would have exclaimed, with him,
whilst reviewing her situation at Amstead Abbey, in the
bosom of her own family, and surrounded by friends in
whose esteem she lived, " Quod petis hie est." In other
words, she might have added this postscript to her
answers to the letters of her London correspondents, who
transmitted to her the doings of the gay world : — IVTiat
you look for elsewhere, I find here.

There was, however, one feature in this amiable lady's
character which I am unwilling not to exhibit to my

io THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

readers. It too often happens that highly-bred women,
who emerge from the vortex of the fashionable world to
reside in the country with the husbands of their choice,
look slightingly on the wives and daughters of the
gentlemen in the neighbourhood who may not have had
the entree into similar walks of life (from which, indeed,
their situation and circumstances excluded them), or are
unable to exhibit so many quarterings in their escutcheons.
This was not Lady Charlotte's failing. On the contrary,
like a woman of good sense, she conformed to the
situation which she had selected for herself in every
respect ; and although, within the circle of her visiting,
there were several ladies holding rank nearly equal to her
own, still there were no young ladies of her acquaintance
oftener to be seen at the Abbey than the daughters of the
rector of the parish.

The rector of Amstead was an old-fashioned country
clergyman of whom John Bull was once wont to be so
proud, and to whom obedience and tithes were paid
without a murmur. Enabled, by the value of his
preferment, the prudent management of his income, and
a limited family — two daughters and one son — to make a
most respectable appearance in society, and to add to the
valuable instruction given by him to his congregation in
the church, assistance to such as stood in need of it at
their homes, he was extremely beloved in his parish. In
fact, he was to the poor a " Man of Ross ; " and to his flock
so much a pastor to their mind that dissent was unknown
in his parish. And yet the rector was a sportsman — at
least to a certain extent. He was an excellent shot, in
cover especially, the woodcock being his favourite quarry.
And here his turn-out was somewhat remarkable, for he
was always accompanied by his clerk, who was not only
an excellent beater of a wood, but, having been the son
of an Amstead gamekeeper, well knew the haunts of a
cock, in all the covers in his neighbourhood. The clerk,
however, like his rector, was much respected in his
village, where he was considered a man of no mean
accomplishments, inasmuch as, exclusively of his sacred
avocation, he was both a shoemaker and a schoolmaster,
which induced a wag to indite this couplet over his
door : —

John Wells' trades are three —
Cobbler, clerk, and dominel

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 11

The mention of one more person is essential to the
development of my tale — Mr. Beaumont Raby, brother to
the Squire of Amstead, but of very different habits and
pursuits. In the first place, he was not a sportsman ; and
this for reasons independent of a natural disinclination for
all sports of the field. His immense size -would have been
an obstacle to it, for he might have played Falstaff with-
out stuffing. Again, his health was not good. He had
incurred some of the penalties attendant on idleness and
high feeding ; but he equalled his brother in kind-hearted-
ness and good feeling, and exceeded him in accomplish-
ments, the result of the life he had led. His history is
this : — Having had an ample fortune left him when a
child, by a person to whom he was but distantly related,
he entered, with his brother, as a gentleman commoner of
Christ Church, Oxford, where he took a very high degree.
He then became a member of the Inner Temple, not with
the view of making a profession of the law, but to qualify
himself for a member of the senate, which it was his
ambition to become. Nor was he disappointed. He sat
in two short Parliaments, during which he made three
speeches, each affording the promise of brighter days
to come. They were not only occasionally adorned by
classic flowers, culled from the poets and historians of the
Augustan age, but they were also remarkable for clear
views of their subjects, and a business-like manner of
debating them. The natural indolence of his disposition,
however, obtained the mastery over his inclinations ; his
seat in the House was not sought for a third time ; he
became a mere votary of ease and pleasure — in fact, what
is called a regular London man ; thinking with Sir
Fopling Flutter, in the play, that " all beyond Hyde Park
Corner is a desert." At all events, the simple and humble
pleasures which a country life affords would have been
to him something more than insipid. Nevertheless, the
two brothers were greatly attached to each other ; were
inseparable when in London together ; corresponded
regularly when at a distance ; and, perhaps once in three
years, the ci-devant Templar and ex-member of the senate
would quit the gay scenes of London and Bath to pass a
few weeks at the Abbey.

It has already been stated that the family of Mr. Raby
consisted of four — two sons and two daughters — all of
whom lived to attain their majority : Francis, the second

12 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

son, however, is the hero of this story, and here his
history begins : —

He was born in the year 1776, and being the issue of
sound and healthy parents, and a perfect and well-shapen
infant, soon struggled into what may be called life ; that
is to say, the "mewling and puking in the nurse's arms"
was, in due time, succeeded by a strong desire to get upon
his legs and amuse himself. In fact, although to declare
the end from the beginning is not within the scope of
human power, there was something about this boy, at
the end of his third year, which indicated that, one day
or another, in one pursuit or other, he was likely to
overtop the crowd. It is true the human mind is made
for action ; but this child was as active and restless as the
hyaena, and showed a desire to pry into everything within
his reach ; and the predominance of his taste was not long
in displaying itself. If he found a stick, he wanted a
string to tie to the end of it ; and if he found a string,
he wanted a stick to tie the string to. In fact, a whip
was his delight, but the sight of a horse transported him ;
and from morning to night did his little tongue ring the
changes of horse and whip, whip and horse, varied only
by an occasional notice of a favourite dog, that was
allowed to make its domicile in the nursery. In short,
as the dawn of morning generally showrs the day, it was
evident that Francis Raby was to be a sportsman.

As may be imagined from their sitiiation in life, Francis
Raby and his brother (who was named after his father) had
every care taken of them in their infancy ; and, before
they were eight years of age, their characters were pretty
clearly developed. But as " one star differeth from another
star in glory," so did the characters of these brothers
vary in a very unusual degree. Andrew was always in
the house, and with his mother when he could be ;
Francis out of doors, and about the stables as soon as he
could break loose and steal away. Andrew delighted in
a book ; Francis appeared to have an antipathy to one.
Andrew was pale and sickly, and subject to infantine
diseases ; Francis was a miniature waggoner in frame and
constitution. In one respect, however, they assimilated.
Both showed indications of talent, and, in their exercises
with their tutor, who prepared them for Eton, "the
promise of a goodly day to-morrow."

There is nothing more certain than that all things must

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 13

have a beginning ; and what may be called the sporting
career of Francis Raby commenced about his tenth year,
when he became possessed of a couple of terriers, of a
good game breed, sore enemies not only to the rats about
the buildings, but to all the cats of the house, which were
hunted by them about once a week. On one occasion,
however, Master Francis had almost driven the jest too
far ; for, having chased one of them into the kitchen, with
his terriers close at her tail, she leaped on the table and
upset a tureen of turtle soup, that was on the point of
being served up to a dinner party. Frank, however — for
such he was always called, as most Francises are — got well
out of the scrape by his great popularity among the
servants, who either took the mishap upon themselves,
or laid it to that scape-goat in all families — the cat.
Frank and his terriers, however, were much dreaded in
the neighbourhood by all who had favourite tabbies, as
a gripe from either Pincher or Vixen was very apt to
prove fatal. But, did Mr. Raby know of this cat-killing
propensity 1 and, if so, did he encourage it 1 The general
character"of that gentleman leads to the conclusion that
he would not have encouraged, in his children, cruelty
to animals, a vice the very reverse of the characteristic
of the thorough English sportsman. Nevertheless he was
well aware of this truism — that to restrain the pleasures
and pursuits of youth with too tight a hand, is as pre-
posterous as to be angry with the spring of the year
because it produces nothing but blossoms, or to expect
from that early season the fruits of autumn in their
perfection ; and it must be admitted that, when he saw
his favourite son, Frank — for most fathers have favourites
— with a couple of terriers at his heels, and his ferret bag
in his hand, he was delighted beyond measure. " That
boy," he would say, " will be a sportsman, and one day or
another will see him at the top of the tree, if he lives."
And he had a right so to predict of him. No matter
whether pleasure or business be the object, whoever
pursues either to any purpose, must do so con amore,
which was truly Frank's case. No sooner did his tutor
dismiss him, than he was at war with one description of
vermin or another; and he was wonderfully expert in
his calling.

As similarity of taste inspires regard, Frank, as he
progressed in years, formed a strong alliance with one

i4 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

of the head keeper's sons, who, as his father had initiated
him into the entrapping art, was of no small service in
his pursuits ; and such was their success in ferreting
rabbits, that they furnished the supply for the house,
of which they were not a little proud, as there was no
great abundance of them on the estate — Mr. Raby being
averse to their increase, on account of the injury done
by them to young trees. To a certain extent, however,
he wished to preserve them, as the means of insuring
litters of foxes in his covers. Still, as may be
supposed, this intimate alliance with Jem Perren, the
young keeper, was not without its effect on the aspiring
mind of his young master. From the superiority of
Jem's knowledge in these matters, as well as having
the advantage in years, Frank looked up to him as his
chief preceptor — his reverence the tutor only being
second. Then, again, Jem was an accomplished youth
of his kind. In the first place, Nature had not been
unkind to him ; he inherited a great share of his father's
acuteness, and, for his years, more than his share of his
Herculean frame and strength. In fact, he was quite
the " cock of the walk " among all the lads of the village
in which he had received his learning, and had often
amused his young master with accounts of the various
battles he had been engaged in, at least those which
had ended in victory.

As may be supposed, all this was not lost on our hero,
who listened to such tales with delight ; neither can
we marvel at his having done so. He was now in his
thirteenth year, and had been reading history with his
tutor, as well as listening to his brother when reading
it, in portions considered beyond his own reach at the
time ; and had paid particular attention to the accounts
given of those heroes of antiquity who had signalized
themselves in gymnastic exercises, boxers and wrestlers
especially. He found that the first kings of the world
obtained their dominion by being superior to all others
in strength and courage — in fact, that, even in Homer's
time, the argumentum baculinum was essential to the
existence of all little governments. Leaving out of the
question those apocryphal heroes, Hercules, Theseus,
Pollux, and others, who were feigned to have been the
original inventors of games and combats (considered so
admirably calculated for rendering the bodies of youth

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 15

robust and vigorous, and capable of supporting the
severe fatigue of a soldier's life, that they were wisely
made to form a part of their religious worship), he had
read that the most celebrated characters of their day
excelled in the boxing and wrestling arts. Epaminondas,
for example, one of the greatest generals and most perfect
characters that Greece ever produced, was a patron of, as
well as conspicuous in, all such exercises ; and it is gravely
stated in history that a knowledge of the art of wrestling
gave to the Thebans under his command the battle of
Leuctra, and decided the fate of Sparta. Having read
of all this, his wonder ceased at finding that master of
the wrestling art, Hippomachus, declare that he could
discover his scholars at a distance, though they were
only carrying meat from the shambles ; or that crowns
of olive should have been bestowed by the Eleans on
boys of his own age, who had excelled in gymnastic
exploits. Nor was the art of boxing exhibited to his
young, but aspiring mind, in less glowing colours. He
found not only that Milo, one of the athletae of his day,
could knock down a bull by a blow of his arm, but, by
the example of Dares, that the science of self-defence, as
the modern term is, was not beneath the notice of a
prince. So far from it, indeed, that, among the Greek
and Roman nobility and gentry, scarcely a day, he found,
passed without their practising bodily exercises in the
gymnasium — the use of the csestus among the number;
and, to his surprise, he learned that even the love of
gladiatorial shows amongst the Romans increased as they
progressed in civilization, and their manners became more
refined ; and that such exhibitions nourished during the
reigns of two of their most humane emperors, Trajan and
Titus. Then, again, he had listened to his father while
discussing the subject with his friends, in reference to
the doings of those days when Broughton, Slack,
Humphries, Mendoza, Big Ben, and others, all famous
men in the ring, were in their zenith. Mr. Raby,
however, was no patron of pugilism. His duties as a
magistrate forbade it ; still, as conducted in those days,
he was rather favourably inclined towards it than other-
wise. At all events, he would occasionally deliver his
sentiments on the subject somewhat after this manner : —
" I am doubtful," he would say, " as to the effect of con-
flicts between animals, on the courage of the people ; at

16 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

the same time that I question whether the extraordinary
courage of the game-cock was not intended as an example
to us. One of the greatest orators of our day thinks it
was ; and in defence of the hypothesis, instances the
•pluck and bottom of Englishmen, who chiefly encourage
these combats, and conduct them after the most scientific
manner. Our boxing matches, or prize fights, as they
are now called, are contests of the same kind as the
fights of the gladiators, only upon a lower scale ; with
this difference, that no man — unless he chooses — is
opposed to unequal force ; and if we could divest the
mind of the fact that the contest is not so much for glory
as for money, such has been the display of manly
intrepidity, firmness, gallantry, activity, presence of mind,
and strength, which some of our late prize fights have
called forth, that no man need be ashamed of having
viewed them with interest. At all events, suppress
boxing wholly, and there will be an end to that sense
of honour, spirit, and gallantry which distinguishes the
common people of this country from those of all others,
and they will resort to practices, and the use of weapons
in their quarrels, which they now scarcely think of ; and
which are cowardly and disgraceful, because they are
commonly resorted to in the dark, or when the object
of vengeance is off his guard. They would decide their
quarrels with knives instead of fists, and the life of no
man, in the lower ranks of society, who had given much
cause of offence, could be said to be safe. In fact, a
great lawyer has pronounced the laws of boxing to be
the laws of peace, ' teaching that no unfair advantage
shall be taken by either of the combatants, and putting
a stop to a malignant mode of procuring satisfaction.
They inculcate a love of fair play, and foster the natural
courage of our countrymen, whilst they create a disgust
in their minds for the treacherous use of the stiletto
or knife.'

" Still," Mr. Raby would say, "it is not impossible that
the system of prize-fighting, which Broughton calls 'a
truly British art,' may become the reproach, rather than
the characteristic of our countrymen. The persons who
take up the profession of public prize-fighters are of
nearly the lowest grade in society, and are too often
unable to resist a bribe to induce them to do wrong — that
is, to sell their battles for money — although there are, and

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 17

have been, many honourable exceptions. They partake
indeed," he would say, "of some of the obloquy that
attached to the Roman gladiators, humorously set forth
in a Greek epigram on a bad tenant, from the pen of
Palladus, which has been thus translated : —

' I let ray house, the other day,
To one who dealt in corn and hay :
Next morning I found, ah ! woe is me.
A dreadful pugilist is he.
When will you pay my rent ? quoth I ;
He lifts his fist and cocks his eye.
I then to Pollux made my vow,
Although on peace my thoughts were now,
That I, before next quarter day,
Might learn to box, or run away.'"

It was not to be expected that much science in the art
of self-defence was to found in a gamekeeper's lad ; still
many " turns-up " with those who were bigger and older
than himself had imparted to Jem Perren a tolerable
notion of taking some care of himself ; and he boasted of
no less than three favourite stops, and likewise of one very
telling blow. These were, of course, imparted to our
hero, who would often be seen taking lessons from his
green-jacketed preceptor ; and truly he was soon a pro-
ficient. He could not only hit very hard, in which his
weight told to his advantage, but he could stop, and get
away, in a manner surprising for his age. Hence arose
one of the disadvantages of a slight knowledge of the
pugilistic art, combined with the power and inclination
to put it into practice. It created in Frank Eaby a
domineering spirit, which, notwithstanding his good
sense, and many excellent qualities, adhered to him, in
some measure, through life. Although his brother was
his senior by nearly two years, he treated him as his
junior, and, by the weight of his fist, established his claim
of precedence. No boys in the neighbouring villages
dared to cross his path in his pursuits, provided they
were near his own age, for his name was up. On one
occasion, however, he signalized himself beyond the ex-
pectation of his admiring friends ; and, from his extreme
good nature, and kind disposition towards the necessitous
poor, he had many such in the neighbourhood in which
he was known. Passing through a village, in one of his
roving walks, he espied one of those half-baked, half-

i8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

nursed ragamuffins, a specimen of whom about one parish
in every six affords, unmercifully beating a defenceless
orphan not much more than half his own size. The
chivalrous spirit of our hero would not brook this ; so,
throwing down his hat, he gave him " a chattering facer,"
the term, as his preceptor Jem informed him, for a heavy
thump on the mouth, and instantly put himself " into
attitude." Ragamuffin did the same, when a smart round
ensued, rather in his favour ; but the young one was no-
wise daunted. The old blood of the Rabys warmed in
his young veins at every blow, and he said to himself,
" I'll lick this snob, or die." Presently the whole village
became alarmed for the safety of Master Francis. Out
ran the apothecary from his house, and the mother of one
of the Amstead housemaids from hers, both insisting on
some of the lookers-on interfering, and putting an end to
the fight. It happened, however, that the coachman had
walked down to the village with his young master, and
he stoutly asserted that Master Francis was "all right.
He'll leather two such chaps as that," said coachey, " and
I'll go and see fair play." The result was thus : — In the
fifth round, the young one hit his opponent such a smasher
in his teeth, that he turned cur and ran off, amidst the
hootings of all present ; thus verifying the maxim, that
"thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just." Even
the magpie in the cage chattered, as if exulting to see
justice so summarily obtained for a poor orphan lad.

" Come into my house, Master Francis," said the doctor,
"that I may see what injury you have sustained. Here
is a blow over the left eye to begin with, and it will be
black in a few hours ; what will your mamma say ? ;J
"Oh!" said the coachman, "he can tell my lady that
Rodney (the pony) threw up his head, and struck him on
the face ; she won't know no better." " But your thumb,
Master Francis, you have cut it rather deep, by a blow
against one of the young rascal's teeth," resumed the
doctor. " Oh ! " observed coachey, " that will be soon
settled ; he can tell my lady he took a shot at a rook out
of Jem Perren's gun, and that it was too high loaded, and
hit him a hard blow on his hand. Besides, from what I
know of my lady, dash me if I don't think she'd like
to know how young master served out that cowardly
scoundrel, for she once stopped the carriage on purpose
to give the poor orphan he had been beating a shilling,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 19

and she has twice had him clothed. You know, doctor,
his father worked in her flower-garden." " But the tutor,
Master Francis ? " continued Esculapius. " Oh, bother
the tutor ! " replied the coachman ; " they tells me he
is a great scholard, but he's as soft as a pat of butter ;
Master Francis can soon gammon him, as he has often
done before. And as to master, I know what he will
say : ' Never let a horse hit you in your face with his
head, Frank ; it is a symptom of bad horsemanship.
When a horse plunges, or rears, always keep your head
and person a little inclined to the left side of him, and
then, should he lose his balance, and fall backward, you
slip off before he comes to the ground.' I heard him say
those very words to Master Raby the other day." Here
the coachman and his young master took their departure
homeward, the former repeating his lesson, and assuring
Frank, at the same time, that if he would come into the
servants' hall before he went to bed, he would clap a raw
beef-steak to his face, as the fighting-men do, which would
take out all the blackness by the morrow.

The hour of dessert having arrived, in walked Master
Francis with his brother and two sisters, looking as
demure as a saint. " What have you done to your face,
my dear ? " inquired Lady Charlotte ; " it is much swollen
above your left eye." "Rodney threw up his head
with me this morning, mamma, and struck me in the
face," was his reply. " Oh, Frank ! " said Mr. Raby,
"how could you let him do that? A good horseman
never suffers from such an accident. Should his horse
begin to play tricks, he always keeps his own head
inclined towards the left, and then he cannot be struck
as you have been. I have known instances of persons
having nearly every tooth knocked out by blows from
horses' heads." Frank said nothing, but refused to eat an
orange, until twice asked to do so. As he was peeling it,
the wound on his hand appeared. "Why, Frank," ex-
claimed Lady Charlotte, " you have been in perils to-day ;
did Rodney throw you ? " " No, mamma," he replied, " I
was taking a shot at a rook out of Jem's gun, and it was
loaded so high that it struck me on my hand. But it will
soon be well, and coachman says if I come to him before
I go to bed to-night, he will do for me what the boxers
do — clap a raw beef-steak under my night-cap, and I
shall have no black eye to-morrow." " Nasty fellow ! "

20 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

exclaimed Lady Charlotte ; " I insist upon it, he does no
such thing. What could put it into the man's head to
doctor my children 1 " Frank was again silent, when he
was at length addressed by the tutor, in rather a grave
tone. " If you had remained at home this morning,
Frank, and done what I wished you — translated that
chapter in Aurelius, De viris illustribus, and finished your
exercise on the battle of Pharsalia, you would not have
met with these disasters, but would have been able to have
taken the field with the harriers to-morrow, whereas you
will now be obliged to remain at home, as I fear not even
the raw beef-steak would have prevented your having a
black eye, in which case you could not, of course, appear
abroad." At the mention of the word battle, the blood
rushed to Frank's face, conceiving that the "murder was
out ; " but such was not the case. Contrary to expecta-
tion, the doctor did not blab, and the event of the fight
never reached beyond the walls of the servants' hall of
the Abbey, although it was widely spread among the
surrounding villagers, who were loud in their praises of
the young Dares.

Mr. Egerton, the tutor, was one of those old-fashioned
clergymen of the Church of England, once so highly
looked up to by the people, but now supplanted, in too
many instances, by a new-fashioned sort, who, by preach-
ing for an hour or more on subjects which their hearers
do not understand, and too often creating doubts which
they cannot themselves remove, drive thousands from
their churches to seek for instruction elsewhere.

He was old-fashioned enough to consider the true philo-
sophy of life, as well as the duty of his profession, to
consist in endeavouring to assuage the evils of human
nature by any means, provided they war not against the
soul. Fanaticism, with its long train of gloomy terrors,
he left to those who practised it, and was inclined even
to think, with Lord Shaftesbury, that gravity is too often
but another word for imposture. He considered that we
are entitled to enjoy the good things of this life when
honestly procured, and that it were the height of in-
gratitude not to taste with satisfaction the liberal bounty
of Providence. All he insisted upon was — that when our
wishes are gratified, and the cup of fortune full, we
should not drink it to the dregs.

Having said this, it is almost needless to add, that Mr.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 21

Egerton entered fully into the pleasures and amusements
of Amstead Abbey, to the society of which, by his many
agreeable accomplishments, he was no small acquisition.
There was, however, one species of amusement in which
he did not often participate ; he rarely hunted, not that
he thought it unbecoming his clerical situation, but be-
cause he was so bad a horseman that he feared he might
break his neck. Neither was he ever seen with a gun in
his hand, the reason for which was a ludicrous one. On
being asked by a visitor to Mr. Raby, why he did not
join the shooting party of that morning, he accounted
for it in the following words : — " I was once," said he,
" inclined to the sport of the gun, but a circumstance
that had nearly been attended with consequences which
would have rendered me miserable for life, determined
me to abandon it. My sight is imperfect ; that is to say,
I am, what is called, near-sighted ; and being once in a
wood with my gun, I espied what I took to be a fine full-
grown black rabbit, under a furze-bush. I fired at, and,
thank God, missed it, for it proved to be the head of the
most intimate friend of my youth, who had laid himself
at full length on the ground, to enable him to get a shot
at a hare. The shock to my nerves was so great, that, to
this day, the report of a gun brings instantly to my mind
the head of my friend under the furze-bush."

Although no sportsman, as far as horses and guns were
concerned, Mr. Egerton had other ways of amusing him-
self abroad. He was an excellent fisherman, considering
the disciple of the angle, probably, as pursuing an aposto-
lical recreation, which, I believe, Izaak Walton did before
him. He was, also, a musician, playing beautifully on
the violoncello and the flute. But his summiim bonum,
in the way of indoor amusement, was a rubber at whist,
at which he was truly a trump. In fact, whoever got the
parson for a partner, considered him worth one point in
the game, and half a crown would now and then be ven-
tured on the rubber, on the strength of his fine play. But,
notwithstanding these recreations, in which Mr. Egerton
freely indulged himself, at proper times and seasons, no man
could have performed his twofold duties more sedulously
than he discharged his. In the preparation of his two
pupils for Eton, he succeeded eminently, and in his
calling, as curate of the parish, he gave universal satis-
faction both in and out of church.

22 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

CHAPTER II

The first great step in the life of our "Sportsman : " he is entered
to hare. — The Chapter concludes with many choice Aphorisms
concerning the Noble Science, and sundry anecdotes, worthy
being recorded in letters of gold.

" TITHAT is to be done to-morrow," said Mr. Egerton
VY to his pupils iu the evening, " as Lady Charlotte
has asked for a holiday ? " " / shall hunt," exclaimed our
hero, his eyes brightening with delight ; and he was out
of the room, to give orders for Rodney to have no water
in the morning, before his brother had returned an
answer to the question. " J shall walk to the rectory,"
said Andrew ; " I promised the Miss Chapmans I would
bring them the books my uncle sent me last week from
London, and they are very anxious to read them."
" There is no disputing about tastes," observed the tutor,
addressing our young sportsman, on his return to the
drawing-room, and hinting that he should not let Rodney
give him another black eye, as nothing had so ungentle-
manlike an appearance. " Besides," continued he, " it
savours of awkward horsemanship, in which, as you seem
bent on being a fox-hunter, some day or another, you
ought to endeavour to excel. Indeed, all gentlemen
should ride well ; and you will remember my telling you
that, in the letters of Lord Chesterfield to his son, and of
Lord Chatham to his nephew, it is insisted upon, as part
of their education, to enable them to make a good appear-
ance in the world, as Horace had insisted before them, in
his advice to youth. You also remember my drawing
your notice to several passages in history, in which the
accomplishment of riding well is either pointed out, or
boasted of, by still greater men. Hannibal, for example,
is said to have differed in nothing in his appearance from
the ordinary men of his day, unless in the peculiar
neatness and elegance of his horses and their furniture,
and likewise his seat in the saddle ; and it was only
yesterday that your brother was reading of Cicero, who,
addressing his son Marcus, told him that, as the eyes of
the world would be upon him, on account of his father's
fame, he was delighted to hear that he had received the
praise of all the army for his excellence in riding."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 23

" I hunt with you to-morrow, papa," said Frank to his
father, as soon as he had made his escape from what he
called " Egerton's botheration about Hannibal and Cicero."
" I hope we shall find as good a buck hare as that which
Mr. Gibbon's shepherd soho'd for us the last time we met
at the same place." " Frank," said Mr. Raby, " I must
now be your tutor, and, in this instance, can do more for
you than Mr. Egerton. You have made use of two terms
not used in hare-hunting, and it becomes every person to
adapt their language to their subject. A male hare, in
hunting, is called a jack hare ; and the word tan-ta-ra,
not soho, denotes one espied in its form. The terms you
have applied are peculiar to coursing."

About a mile from the place of meeting Frank over-
takes the hounds, and the following interesting colloquy
occurs : —

Huntsman (touching his cap). — " Good morning, Master
Francis ; glad to see you out, sir. Rodney looks in high
feather ; you'll beat us all to-day."

Frank. — " No, Dick ; there is no beating you on old
Clodhopper, with his ugly lop ears. How you set them
all the last time, over the Barnsly brook ! "

Dick (smiling). — " Well, sir ; but you saw a good deal
of the run ; now can you give us any account of it ? for
I sadly want to make you a sportsman. As for Master
Raby, it's no use thinking of him : he's so terribly fond
of books, flowers, pictures, and such-like trumpery, that
he takes no delight in field sports. Then, again, that
tutor does him no good, making him believe he is to be
a great scholard and a parliament man at last. For my
part, I don't like those parliament gentlemen. I lived
with one once ; and just as the best part of the hunting
began — about a month after Christmas, when we had
such large fields that I sometimes got a hat full of half-
crowns after a good run — away went he to parliament,
and away went half my field as well."

Frank. — " I had rather be a master of foxhounds, than
member for the county, Dick — would not you? And,
Dick, why does not papa keep foxhounds instead of these
harriers ? They tell me that six more horses, and a few
more couples of hounds than he now has, would do ;
and I am sure you could hunt fox as well as you do
hare."

Dick. — "Your papa will never keep foxhounds, sir.

He is the best master of harriers this day in England,
but don't take delight in fox-hunting. Then, again, sir,
you are wrong about thinking I could hunt fox as well
as I do hare. When you turns fox-hunter, which no
doubt you will do when you gets to the University,
you'll see there is a great difference in the systems pursued
with foxhounds and harriers ; and that which is good
in one, is bad in another, although not to the extent that
some people thinks. I happened to overhear one of our
gentlemen telling how Dick Knight lost his fox the other
day with the Py tchley hounds — ' at least,' said he, ' so
thought Mr. Alcock.' ' Mr. Alcock,' said one of them,
' what does that old thistle-whipper know about hunting '? '
Now that is going too far ; for, in my opinion, an old
thistle-whipper must know a great deal more of hunting
than a young fox-hunter is likely to do. But, Master
Francis, can you give me any account of the last run you
saw, in which there was a good deal to notice ? "

Frank. — " Why, you know, Dick, I was behind a bit at
starting, because I could not go fast enough the first ten
minutes ; but I said to myself, I shouldn't wonder if they
come to a check at that large flock of sheep on the turnips,
which they did, and I then got up to you. But I think
I should have been with you all the way had it not been
for that nasty oak stile, which my father would not let
me ride at, and took me out of the line to a gate. I am
certain Rodney would have cleared it, for I rode him
over a higher than that, one day, after you, on Carpenter,
when papa was not out — but I was deuced nearly off,
Dick."

Dick. — " Don't ride at timber, Master Francis — you are
too young for that yet ; and, if you get a squeezer at it,
it may daunt you. I have had some terrible falls over
timber, and was twice picked up for dead."

Frank. — " But about the run ! I saw how you hit off
your hare, when the hounds were checked by the sheep.
You stood stock-still whilst the hounds made their cast ;
but finding that neither Bellman, Bounty, nor Tyrant
gave tongue, and that some of the others had their noses
off the ground, you gave a blast with your horn, made
something like a circle in a trot, when old Bounty hit off
the scent, and we went on."

Dick. — " It was Bellman, Master Francis ; but the
brother and sister are so alike, that I scarcely know one

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 25

from t'other myself. That is not a bad hit of yours,
however, sir. You'll do in time."

Frank. — "But, Dick, what a head they carried over
Groseby field. As the leaps were not too much for
Rodney, I was pretty near you— was I not, Will ? (ad-
dressing himself to the whipper-in). And I saw that
young bitch, Melody, that papa is so fond of, guiding
the scent for at least half a mile. He declares he would
not take ten pounds for her."

Dick. — " I would not take half that sum for her myself,
sir. She is by the old Duke of Grafton's Tyrant, out of
our old Melody, and has all the good qualities of a fox-
hound with those of the harrier. But, Master Francis,
who told you about a hound ' guiding the scent 1 ' It's a
monstrous good notion, but we always say 'guiding the
pack.' "

Frank. — "It is what Mr. Egerton calls 'a figure of
speech,' Dick."

Dick. — " Ah ! sir, see what it is not to have had a
laming ! I shall never talk again about a hound guiding
the pack, as I am all for a bit of novelty in my trade
when I can get it. And I see no reason why hare-hunting
should remain where my grandfather left it, when, as
Squire Talbot says, the hares never went out of their own
parishes."

Frank.—" Mr. Egerton says there has been a great deal
written about hunting hares, which I shall know when
I come to read Greek. One Xenophon, he says, wrote
about it more than 2000 years ago ; and another Greek
writer, called Homer, compared hounds running a hare
through thick woods, to two great warriors pursuing an
enemy by night."

Dick. — " I don't doubt it, sir. That Mr. Egerton is a
clever gentleman ; I wish he would come a-hunting, as,
perhaps, he might write something about it, for I don't
know of anyone having done so since the two gentlemen
you have just mentioned, and it is but few that could read
what they have said."

Our hero was on the point of joining with the huntsman
in the wish that his tutor would take the field, when Mr.
Raby and the rest of the party came up, and orders were
given to draw for a hare, in a fallow adjoining the road,
which having been long ploughed, was considered likely
to produce one. It did so; a brilliant burst was the

26 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

result ; and, at the end of thirty-two minutes, Dick had
her in his hand, as stiff as if she had been six years in a
museum. Another run followed, in which some fine
hunting was displayed ; and Mr. Raby and his friends
returned to the Abbey, well satisfied with their sport,
and with a good appetite for their dinner.

During the interval between the two runs, which was
not a very short one — for hares were not abundant in
those days — Frank was seen in earnest conversation with
a well-mounted gentleman, a stranger to Mr. Raby and
his friends, who attracted everyone's notice by the masterly
manner in which he rode, and the attention he paid to
the hunting of this celebrated pack of harriers. " I have
hunted in all our best counties," said he to his friend,
and this in the hearing of our young sportsman, "and
chiefly in the crack county of all — in Leicestershire ; but
I never saw more beautiful hunting than these hounds
have this day shown. I have not only admired them
when in difficulties, in which I must say they were ably
assisted by their huntsman, but the head they carried in
chase surprised me ; surely Mr. Raby must breed a great
number of hounds, to be able to top and tail them to their
present perfection ; for there does not appear to be half
an inch of difference in their height, not more than a
yard or two in speed. Then what beautifully formed
animals they are, and how light yet musical are their
tongues : in fact, how unlike the heavy, throaty, long-
eared, bow-wowing brutes that I have seen in other
countries. I really think that if I lived near them, —
devoted as I have been all my life to foxhounds, and
prone to despise harriers, — I should hunt with them at
least once a week."

These were honeyed words to the ears of Frank Raby,
who repeated them with much delight to his father on
their road home ; and it was also in his power to inform
him where this lion, in his eyes, was domiciled, which
happened to be at the mansion of an intimate, but non-
hunting friend. "Ah ! " said Mr. Raby, on the last-named
circumstance being made known to him, " then we shall
see him at the Abbey on Saturday, if he remains so long
on his visit to Sir William, as the baronet and his party
dine with us on that day." " Oh ! papa," observed Frank,
" how glad I am to know that ! we shall hear all about
Leicestershire hunting, which is the best in all the world,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 27

I believe ; but will you promise not to begin upon it with
him until we come in to dessert?" Mr. Raby smiled,
and said nothing ; but doubtless his heart responded to
the call of his favourite son.

One of the leading characteristics of a young sportsman
is the pursuit of all animals which come under the de-
nomination of vermin ; and, indeed, for the preservation
of game, poultry, and many other things, the destruction
of them, as of many of the feathered race, is necessary.
There is, however, one animal included in this list, which,
as far as the evils of his ways are taken into account, is
entitled to an exemption, for they are few, if any. This
animal is the badger, neither a depredator nor a thief ;
but subsisting chiefly on pig nuts, beech mast, and roots ;
in fact, on anything that pigs eat in the woods ; and,
moreover, of service to the sportsman, by drawing earths
for foxes, although he sometimes, by making them too
strong, increases the expense of stopping. The badger,
however, possesses two very extraordinary properties —
the prodigious strength of his nose in burrowing, and the
ferocity with which he defends himself when attacked by
dogs. Drawing badgers from their burrows is one test
of courage, or pluck, in terriers, and dogs of that descrip-
tion, for which purpose many are kept, to the discredit of
those who keep them.

" What have you been doing to-day, Francis ? " inquired
Mr. Egerton, on the morrow after the hare hunt. "I
saw you coming to the house with Jem Perren, who was
carrying something in a bag." "We had been drawing
a badger, sir, in the big wood, and you would have been
pleased to see how well Pickle and Vixen behaved."
" Indeed," replied Mr. Egerton, " I should not. It would
have afforded me no pleasure to have seen animals tor-
menting each other for your pleasure, and merely that
you might get possession of a worthless, ^though harmless
creature." " Not worthless, sir," resumed Frank ; " we
mean to have a burrow made for him to enter the young
terriers at him, for Jem Perren thinks those out of Trinket
are not thorough-bred by the father's side." " Indeed,
Francis," exclaimed the tutor, " you shall do no such
thing ; at least with my knowledge. You have signalized
yourself, in your own estimation, by having drawn a wild
badger from his burrow, which, no doubt, you think much
of ; but let once doing so suffice. I shall walk with you

28 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

to-morrow to the big wood, and see you replace the poor
animal in his burrow."

In the hilarity of youthful spirits, this interference
had no further effect on our young sportsman than to
damp his ardour, for the moment, in a pursuit in which
he had just commenced with such success, and he walked
away with a somewhat sullen step, to communicate the sad
tidings to Jem Perren. " Bless me," said Jem ; " I wish
that parson was in the place he talks so much about in
church ; he'll be the ruin of you, Master Francis. I
heard my father say, the other day, that he scolded him
for shooting jays, although the gardener says they play
the deuce with the raspberries and cherries, and you know
my father wants the feathers for fly-fishing." "Ay,"
resumed Frank; "but never mind, Jem; we go "to
Eton after mid-summer, and then we shall get rid of
his botheration, and shall be our own masters in the
holidays."

Saturday arrived : and the family at the Grange came
to the Abbey to dinner, and, with them, the " lion " out
of Leicestershire, whose name was Somerby, from whose
conversation with his father Frank Raby anticipated a
great treat. Neither was it anything short of a treat to the
father himself, to contribute to the delight of his favourite
son, and, according to promise, he waited his coming to
dessert before the subject of hunting in Leicestershire
commenced. We will give it in detail.

Mr. Raby. — "Were I a fox-hunter, Mr. Somerby, I
should envy you who make Leicestershire your domicile."

Mr. Somerby. — " It is, without doubt, the county of all
others in which a man may get the most hunting."

Mr. Baby.— "And the best."

Mr. Somerby. — " That depends on circumstances. It is
a mistaken notion that a good country alone can make
good hounds, or that Leicestershire has that peculiar
privilege."

Mr. Raby. — " I always thought that Leicestershire was
a county in which hounds had less difficulty to encounter
than in any other ; and that with a good scent, you are
almost sure to have sport, even if you do not kill your
fox. By the term ' Leicestershire,' I mean the whole
extent of country within reach of Melton Mowbray.;>

Mr. Sonwrby. — "You have been misinformed on these
subjects, Mr. Raby. It is true there are extensive tracts

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 29

in the counties of Leicester, Rutland, and Northampton,
extremely favourable to hounds, from the great prevalence
of land which has been under grass beyond the memory
of man ; as, likewise, from the prevalence of large en-
closures, which often contain forty acres, and occasionally
double that number ; but here exists one difficulty. Head-
lands and hedgerows are good friends to huntsmen when
their hounds are off the scent : indeed, they may be said
then to act as guide-posts ; but let hounds throw up in the
middle of a fifty-acre piece, and require their huntsman to
direct them, the guide-post is not so readily at his hand
a? in counties where the enclosures are much smaller.
Should he fail to find the chase on one side of his
ground, having, of course, ascertained that it is not on
ahead, he has a long way to travel for it to the other,
whilst his fox is taking advantage of the delay, and
making the best of his road to his point. Then, again,
another circumstance operates against hounds in these
champaign counties, which is peculiar to them. From
the luxuriance of the herbage in summer, enough remains
in winter to maintain store stock ; and herds of cattle and
flocks of sheep abound in them. Scarcely a run is seen in
which hounds are not brought to check, from encountering
one or other of those obstacles ; and, although not gener-
ally so considered, the stain from cattle is worse than that
from sheep. Cattle are also more perplexing on another
account ; sheep will stand still and confront hounds ; but
cattle will keep going on, to the great disturbance of
hounds in their work, and often on the very line of scent.
Then, again, there is much variety of staple in the land of
the counties in which we are now speaking. It is fre-
quently our lot to commence a run in a fine champaign
grazing country, extremely favourable to hounds — and to
finish it over cold ploughed land, incapable of holding a
scent beyond a passing moment — this, too, at a time when
every advantage is required. We have likewise, occasion-
ally, a great many horsemen in the field, some of whom
think more of riding than of hunting, and press on
hounds at the most difficult points of the chase."

Mr. R'll'ij. — " But Sir William informs me you have
had a capital season's sport up to this period."

Mr. Somerby. — "Why, Mr. Raby, notwithstanding these
difficulties, no country under the sun shows such fine
runs as that called Leicestershire does ; nor such exquisite

30 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

enjoyment of them, from the peculiar nature and disposition
of it. Indeed, a friend of mine says that the very act of
riding to cover over Leicestershire, on a hunter, is nearly
equal to following hounds in a run over a great many of
the provincial countries. But that I should have had a
good season's sport up to this period, and especially as the
weather has been so favourable to it, is not in the least to
be wondered at, when I say that I have generally hunted
with the hounds of the first sportsman that England has
hitherto seen."

Mr. Raby. — " Of course you mean Mr. Meynell, who
hunts what is called the Quorndon, or Quorn country,
whom I have heard so much of, but never had the
pleasure of seeing. Perhaps you will favour me with a
description of his person and character, which, as I
understand you have long enjoyed his friendship and
confidence, you must be well qualified to do ; but, in the
mean time, if you please, we will drink ' Success to fox-
hunting,' in a bumper. Although no fox-hunter myself,
I heartily wish it success. It is a manly, fine exercise,
affording health to the body, and much matter for a
contemplative mind. In few situations of life, indeed,
are the faculties of man more prominently displayed.
Fortitude, good sense, and collectiveness of mind, have in
it a wide field of action, and a sensible sportsman would
be a respectable character in any grade of life."

Mr. Somerly. — " You have not over-rated the good pro-
perties of fox-hunting, and allow me to add to your
panegyric upon it. In the first place, where will you
find better society than by a cover-side in Leicestershire,
and numerous other counties ? In the next, it links all
classes together, from the peer to the peasant. Then,
again, it is the Englishman's peculiar privilege. It is not to
be found in any other part of the globe, but in England's
true land of liberty — and may it flourish to the end of
time ! ' Success to fox-hunting,' I say, with all my heart,
and will now comply with your request : —

" Mr. Meynell is of the middle height, of a compact
and well-proportioned form ; with a highly expressive
countenance, and a very intellectual eye. His manners
and general deportment are those of a man of the highest
fashion, and he combines zeal with talent, which would
render him distinguished in any pursuit that might be
congenial to his inclination and' taste. Fortunately for

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 31

fox-hunting, he made that his election, and although I
hope he has not yet seen half his days, he has done more
for the improvement of the science of the chase than any
other man. In fact, his opinions have already become
maxims, amongst which are the following : —

' Hounds,' he says, ' should combine strength with
beauty, and steadiness with high mettle.

' Perfection of shape consists in short backs, open
bosoms, straight legs, and compact feet.

'The first qualities of hounds are fine noses, docile
tempers, steadiness to their game, and stoutness in
chase.

' If flagrant propensities discover themselves in a young
hound, hang him at once.

' Walk your hounds amongst riot (i.e. hares and deer)
in the summer, and hunt in woodlands, in which foxes
are plenty, at least two months before the regular season
begins.

' Perfection in hounds in chase lies in their hard run-
ning with a good scent, and patient hunting with a bad
one, together with invincible stoutness, when called for.

' The greatest faults are skirting, over-running the
scent, and babbling. Never breed from a hound that
quits the line in chase, however good in all other respects.
The fault will surely descend to his or her produce.

' Do not lift your hounds when they are at fault, until
you are satisfied that they require it ; but encourage them
to take pains ; and keep your field aloof, so that the
steam from the horses may not destroy the scent. Let
them be cast in two lots — the head whipper-in taking
hold of one, and the huntsman of the other.

' When a fox breaks cover, avoid too much hallooing ;
it makes hounds wild, and often mars sport.

' The more quietly whippers-in turn hounds, the better ;
if they are too free with their rating and their whips,
hounds will not turn as short as they should do, from
fear of the lash.

' When hounds are going to cry, let them be en-
couraged, not driven to do so, if it can be avoided. If
a hound will not go readily to cry, he had better be
drafted at once. It is essential to sport that hounds
should get quickly to cry, or a good head cannot be carried
by them in the burst, which renders it imperfect, not-
withstanding the pace may be good.

32 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

' If a fox hangs long in cover, leave him, rather than mob
him to death. He may have a reason for doing so, which
he will sooner die for, than forego ; and he may show
good sport at another time.

' Do not think too much about killing foxes, or of
" blood," as the term is. The wildest packs of hounds have
been known to kill the most foxes, by skirting and meeting
them in covers ; whilst they have seldom killed a really
good fox in a straightforward run. Murdering foxes
in covers is an absurd practice. Seasoned foxes are as
essential to sport as seasoned hounds.

' When once you have established a pack of foxhounds,
— which it requires ten years to do, — be cautious of admitting
strangers from other packs amongst them during the season.
Hounds should be well acquainted with each other, for
they look to each other in difficulties, beyond what may
generally be imagined. Hounds are jealous to a degree ;
and many, naturally steady, will be induced to run riot
by one bad example, especially if exhibited by a stranger.
In short, one faulty hound, as well as one injudicious
rider, may defeat the most promising prospect of sport.'

" Mr. Meynell," continued Mr. Somerby, " is eminently
qualified to be at the head of such a country as the Quorn,
by the command he has acquired over his field, owing to
the respect paid to his character as a sportsman. He is
often heard to address them thus : —

' Nothing gives me more pleasure, gentlemen, than
seeing my hounds afford you good sport ; and nothing
more pain, than your marring it by over-riding them.
That, generally, proceeds from jealousy, which true
sportsmen should be superior to ; for if you are near
enough to see hounds do their work, you ought to be
satisfied with your place, and care not who goes first.
Again, you should keep your eye on the body of the
hounds, instead of depending on two or three which are
leading ; and you should always anticipate a check, which
sheep, cattle, teams at plough, arable land, or a road, are
all likely to produce. Remember that every check gives
your fox an advantage over hounds, and that scent is of a
fleeting nature, soon lost — never again to be recovered.3

" Mr. Meynell is a bold and superior horseman. In
fact, no practicable fence will stop him, when his hounds
are running ; but he takes no unnecessary liberties with
his horses. His language to his hounds is at once emphatic

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 33

and distinct, as well as cheerful and musical in the ex-
treme. His scream, or view-halloo, is, indeed, wonderful,
thrilling through the heart and nerves of all who are
within hearing of it. He is as great a favourite with the
farmers, as he is popular among his equals ; and he has
secured the esteem of the former by the following praise-
worthy conduct : — Although he is very punctual to his
time of throwing off, and would not wait more than ten
minutes for a duke, he will wait twenty for some graziers,
whose horses he sees at the cover's-side, when he knows
there is a cattle-fair in the neighbourhood, at which their
presence is required. He here shows that acuteness and
right judgment which are conspicuous throughout his
entire character, and have led to the eminence he has
attained, as the master of a pack of foxhounds in the
finest country in England."

Mr. Baby. — " I am delighted with your description of this
fine sportsman ; will you favour me with some account of
his establishment ? " — a question suggested by Frank, who
whispered in his father's ear that he should like to know
the name of Mr. Meynell's huntsman.

Mr. /Somei%.— •" With the greatest pleasure. I shall
not feel weary of recapitulating scenes and circumstances
which have ;been, and I hope will continue to be, the
source of the chief pleasure of my life. Mr. Meynell has
two packs of hounds ; one called the young, and the other
the old pack ; the latter consisting of hounds of three
years old and upwards, none of two years old being
admitted into it, unless a very high opinion be enter-
tained of their steadiness and abilities. The young pack
are hunted twice a week, in woodlands as much as possible,
and in the least popular covers, having a few steady old
hounds to assist them ; and it is to the old pack that the
best parts of the county are assigned, in which they meet
four days in the week, when the weather permits.

" The name of Mr. Meynell's huntsman is John Raven,
a man of good parts, and of peculiarly sportsmanlike
appearance. He has the eye of a hawk, the voice of a
stentor, is a good sportsman, and not to be excelled in
horsemanship. (At these words Frank's eye glistened.
and he was heard to heave a sigh — as much as to say,
How I should like to see that man !) His two whippers-
in are equally effective with himself ; but, strange to
say, one of them (Jones) has but one leg, having suffered

3

34 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

amputation for a white swelling, and the loss is supplied
by cork."

Mr. Rahy. — " What a game man must Jones be ! I
have often wondered, Mr. Somerby, that Mr. Meynell
should reside at Quorndon Hall, as I see, by the map,
that it is situated quite at the outside of the most open
and best part of the county. I conclude, however, that it
is, as a residence for a master of foxhounds, in every
respect complete."

Mr. Somerby. — "Quorndon Hall, as a house, although
pleasantly situated, on the bank of the river Soar, which
runs partially through the grounds, has no pretension
beyond the rank of country gentlemen's houses in general ;
neither is it upon a large scale. Its situation, also, is not
central ; but it has one advantage, which Mr. Meynell
thinks muchr of. It is within easy reach of the forest
of Charnwood, which affords excellent opportunities for
making young hounds, as well as of cub-hunting, in the
autumn, with the old ones. That forest abounds with
foxes — is good scenting ground ; and we hunt there long
after the good country is shut up ; — in fact, until May-day,
at which .period of the year it is desirable, for more
reasons than one, that hounds should not have far to
travel to cover. Mr. Meynell is, therefore, partial to
Quorndon as a residence ; and he has a temporary kennel
in the Market Harborough country, in which his hounds
lie, when the fixture is in that quarter."

Mr. Raby. — " You are, I conclude, domiciled at Melton
Mowbray. All I know of that town is, from having once
passed through it, on my road to the north of England ;
but I did not get out of my carriage. It appeared to be
but an insignificant place."

Mr. Somerby. — " And it is so ; it possesses but one inn,
and that a very bad one ; no bank, and very few good
houses. But it is well situated for a sportsman, during
his residence in the county ; as almost every good cover in
Mr. Meynell's, as well as in the other hunts, is to be got
at from it ; and, weather permitting, no man need remain
idle in Melton from want of being able to reach hounds."
Mr. Raby. — " Do you hunt every day ? "
Mr. Somerby.—" I do."

Mr. Raby. — " Is not the fatigue of hunting six days in
the week more than the generality of constitutions will
bear without injury ?"

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 35

Mr. Somerby.—1' I think not. On the contrary, it is my
opinion, that any man, under the age of fifty-five, whose
frame is naturally sound, who lives temperately as to
wine, and who will allow himself eight hours' bed, will
be better in health for such severe exercise. It will
render him superior to fatigue, and, barring accidents
and epidemics, superior also to disease."

Mr. Baby. — " But, Mr. Somerby, I am at a loss to know
how you get over such fences as I saw in the country
between Harborough and Melton ; many of them
appeared impracticable, or ' stoppers,' as I am told they
are called in the fox-hunting world."

Mr. Somerby. — "Why, in the language of one of the
oldest sportsmen, and hardest riders, in the Belvoir Hunt,
we send our hearts over first and then follow them in the best
way we can."

Mr. Raby. — " You must get many falls, every year."

Mr. Somerby. — " Of course we do ; but we think nothing
of falls. Show me the man who says he never gets them,
and I will tell him he seldom sees hounds — at least few
good runs; and this in any country. But, to quote
another of our best men (singulus in arte, I was going to
say), 'Falls go for nothing, provided you don't let go
your horse ; but a man looks very small, running across a
field, in a red coat, booted and spurred, crying out, Stop
my horse ! — pray, sir, stop my horse ! ' The answer generally
is, ' It would be a pity to stop him, sir — he is going so
beautifully.'"

Mr. Raby. — "I am really ashamed of catechising you
thus, but the fact is, exclusive of the pleasure I myself
derive from your description, this second boy of mine,
whom you saw the other day with my harriers, has a
great wish to become a fox-hunter. Let us fill our glasses,
drink a bumper to Mr. Meynell and ' the Noble Science,'
and then, perhaps, you will have the kindness to give us
a short account of a run with his hounds."

Mr. Somerby. — " I will with pleasure comply with your
request ; more especially as it is joined in by my young
friend there, whose attention to the hunting of your
excellent harriers very forcibly struck me. But he must
not think lightly of hare-hunting ; Mr. Meynell enters all
his young hounds to hare, although he expects them to be
steady to fox afterwards ; which will, no doubt, be the
case with your promising son. I know not, then, that I

36 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

can do better than relate the particulars of the very last
run I saw with Mr. Meynell's hounds, rendered more
than commonly interesting, perhaps, by the part I myself
performed in it : —

" It was a beautiful morning for scent — at least, so it
appeared, and, for once, it kept its promise ; but I thought
it would be a scenting day, for I observed the clouds were
stationary above, and all was clear below, with no sun ;
the barometer was also rising. We had a large field, it
being a favourite fixture ; and as I had the luck to tally-
ho the fox away, I, of course, got a good start. It
happened, however, that I this day rode a five-year-old
horse, the only one in my stable; for that tender age
agrees not with our shire. I had never had a taste of
him before ; but my groom had, and assured me he would
make a trump. ' He is as quick as lightning,5 said he,
'and he will face anything ; but his temper, as you know,
sir, is none of the best. I would advise you, when you
can, to take a line of your own.'

" Our first fence was a flight of rails, with a yawning
ditch on the further side, which I thought it was my luck
to have the first fly at ; but, looking earnestly at the
hounds, — as every man should do, whether on a young
one or an old one, — I never saw parson Thompson, who
came right across me at the fence, and got a nasty sort of
a fall. (By-the-by, he told me. afterwards, he 'could

not stop the old mare, she was so d d fresh : ' if so, all

well ; if not, served his reverence right.) I tried to stop
the young thorough-bred one ; but he threw up his head,
and it was ' no go ; ' so, thinking my own the most precious
life of the two, — I mean, of more value to me than parson
Thompson's, — I let him go ; and all I saw, when up in
the air, was the old mare's belly and his reverence's head,
the rest of his body being under his mare. However, I
never touched him, I am happy to say ; and two others,
besides myself, did as I did ; but the third was not quite
so fortunate. He jumped, as he thought, on the parson's
head ; but, as luck would have it, it was only his hat, as
his head had just that moment slipped out of it. You
are aware, Mr. Raby, these things will happen in our
very fast country, and are thought little of ; although it
is no joke to get a fall at the first fence, with such a
crowd behind you, each man trying to be in front, and
all as jealous as newly-married women at a ball. How-

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 37

ever, I kept my line ; and, if I remember right, the next
fence was nothing— only a gate, a stiff one, to be sure ;
but young ones are always good at timber — that is to say,
if they will but look at it.

" Now the pace soon began to tell ; for the country
rode infernally deep, and there was no getting a nick by
a turn, as the fox went straight on end. There were not
more than eight or ten of the field very near to the
hounds, and no one exactly on their line. In fact, I saw
plainly how things were going. Puggy was facing the
cream of the country, and I said to myself, ' We are in for
a tickler.'

" I began to be sorry, however, that I was riding my
five-year-old ; indeed, I meant to have had him as my
second horse, and I must say my groom advised me to do
so. However, there was nothing to be done, now, but to
let him go ; and as I only gave two hundred for him, at
Newmarket, I thought I might try what he was made of
at once. You know, Mr. Raby, it's no use keeping horses
at Melton merely to look at ; consequently, if they are
good for nothing, we send them at once to the hammer.
We let them try their luck in the provincials, when they
cannot live over the grass.

" The next fence was a bulfinch, as black as " — (Here
Mr. Somerby was interrupted by Frank asking his father
what was meant by a " bulfinch fence ; " but his father
was unable to answer the question) — " The next fence,"
resumed Mr. Somerby, " was a bulfinch fence, as black
and as dark as the shades below : you could not, indeed,
have seen through it with a lantern. Then as to what
there might be on the other side, Heaven knew, but I did
not. I only guessed there was a yawning ditch, and very
likely a stiff rail to boot. But what was to be done ? The
hounds were going the top of the pace — no time to turn
to the right or to the left ; two fellows nearer to them
than I was (didn't like that, you know, Francis, eh '?) and
Cecil Forester, close behind me, roaring out, ' Go along,
sir, for God's sake ! ' — so at it I went. It was a rasper
('a rasper ." exclaimed Frank, but only in hearing of his
father), surely, and I cannot say I was sorry when I found
myself well landed in the next field. Our party was now
becoming select. There were only five of us right well
with the hounds ; and although many were near, some
were already beaten, and some noichere. But, to be sure,

38 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

the pace was awful. 'Sharper than common, this
morning,' cried George Germaine to me, and he seldom
sings out, as you know, on that score; 'how does the
young one like it 1 ' Indeed, he has been heard to say,
during the Bibury meeting, that a race-horse never yet
went fast enough to please him ; and that, if it would not
hurt him, he would like to be shot out of a cannon's
mouth. Albeit, there was no cause for complaint now ;
still my horse appeared to be going at his ease ; in short,
he delighted me. I said to myself, ' You are worth double
what I gave for you.' He jumped an ox-fence (Frank here
again looked surprised) the next but one after the bulfinch,
and then a stile, with an awkward foot bridge. A widish
brook he, of course, took in his stride — for all young ones
will leap brooks, if the riders will only let them go their
own pace at them ; so I did not think much of that ; but
I could not help saying to myself, — for there was no
one very near to have heard me, — ' I have got a trump, I
believe ; the blood of Herod will tell.' Still he kept
shaking his head in an extraordinary manner ; I had
never seen him do so before. If I had had my whip in
my hand, I should have given him a ' nobber ; ' for, you
know, it's awkward work going very fast at high and
strong timber — post and rail, or what not — with a blind
ditch on the rising side, and your horse shaking his head
like a terrier killing a rat. I could not do this, however ;
for I had lost my whip, and part of my breeches as well,
at that infernal bulfinch. I know not how it happened,
but that day I was not in leathers ; for John Hawkes and
myself always ride in leathers, though people say ' it looks
slow.' I suppose Pritchard thinks corduroys less trouble ;
for he often says, when he wakes me, ' Likely to be wet,
sir ; better not wear leathers to-day.' (The washerwoman
polishes the corduroys, and he cleans the leathers.) To
proceed with my story. When we checked for a minute
or two under Carlton Clumps, I found what it was that
made the young one shake his head. He had got a thorn
in one cheek, out of that infernal bulfinch, and the blood
was streaming down the other, from a rip from one of the
growers in it. I got the thorn out the best way I could ;
but my horse was evidently in much pain. What was to
be done ? I could have cried ; for I love horses better
than most things, and abhor cruelty in any shape. I
condemned myself ; I wished I was anywhere but where I

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 39

was, and said to myself, ' What could have possessed me to
ride Brilliant to-day, when I have nine seasoned hunters,
all sound, in my stable, and every one fit to go ; and
Griffiths, my groom, told me I had better not ? ' ' I'll go
home,' I said ; but, confound it, at that very moment,
Champion and Statesman hit off the scent ; Meynell took
off his cap, and gave a scream ; and what could I do 1
What would you have done ? The young thorough-bred
one had recovered his wind ; and, as he shook his head
less, and played cheerfully with his bit, I hoped he was in
less pain. He was carrying me magnificently — not more
than a dozen of us with the hounds ; a splendid country
before us — I took the lead again." (Here Frank heaved
another sigh, and became restless.)

"I shall never forget," continued Mr. Somerby, "the
third fence we now came to, which was out of the next
field but one to Shankton Holt cover. It was not a double
but a treble. It was of this description ; — thank Heaven !
there are not more than three or four of such in most
runs ; — first, a ditch ; then a rail ; then another ditch ;
and then another rail. You see there is no landing for a
horse, if he takes fences of this sort at twice, except on
the first rail, or in the second ditch ; but the old ones
irill double them, when very well handled by their
riders.

" Now the wind was well in Brilliant, and I had found
he would face anything ; but I doubted his being up to
this queer double, or ' treble,' as I have called it. I sent
him at it, then, at the rate of twenty miles an hour,
thinking to take it all at a fly ; but far as the clever
young horse flung himself, he could not clear the whole.
He alighted with one fore-leg over, and the other under,
the outermost rail, and gave me a thundering fall. ' It's
unfortunate,' said I to myself, glancing my eye at the
fence, as I arose from the ground ; ' if I had known that
that middle rail had been so weak, we would have gone
' in and out clever,' as Cholmondeley says ; ' at least, we
should have got over with a scramble. I am out of luck
to-day,' added I ; ' but here goes again,' and soon jumped
into my saddle.

" The hounds having turned towards me a little, I was
very soon in my place again. 'What now?' said one.
' Disasters come thickly this morning,' cried another.
'All right again,' replied I ; 'take care of yourselves, for

40 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

we are in for business to-day ; and I perceive one or two
of you have been paying your respects to Mother Earth.
Don't halloo till you are out of the wood, my boys.'

" The scent appeared to get better and better ; — indeed,
the pace had been awful since the check in the windmill
piece. I looked back twice, and could only see four of
the field in our rear, and there were but five besides
myself well with the hounds. ' This is beautiful,' I said ;
' Divine ! ' shouted John Hawkes. ' Indeed it is, sir,' said
Wing, the grazier, going in his usual place. I thought so
too. I could not help giving them a cheer, which 1 don't
often do, and got a rebuke for my pains. ' Leave 'em
alone, sir,' exclaimed Meynell ; ' they cannot be doing
it better ; I'll bet a thousand on my hounds, if you will
not over-ride them.' Ten minutes more, however, began
to tell tales. One of the best nags out of Melton was
about to look queer, — and so did his owner too, for he had
been just saying he could go for another hour. It is true
he had rammed him along at a devil of a rate, and he
rides with rather too slack a rein. 'Never loose their
heads, my boy, whatever you do,' said my old uncle to me,
soon after I was breeched : and no man's advice was
better than his. He was one of the best of his day ; but
still I think he would be called ' slow ' now.

" But to continue our run. We crossed the brook
under Norton-by-Galby, and went as straight as a line
for Kollestonwood, Forester and Lamb ton being the first
over it, and my young one following in the very foot-
holes of their horses. ' Ha ! ha ! ' said I to myself, as we
rose the hill in Galby-field, which, by-the-by, being deep
and stiff, took rather tight hold of the nags — ' another ox-
fence, and most likely another fall.' — ' 111 not have this
ox-fence,' said I ; ' they are turning to the right, and I'll
make for yonder sheep-pen in the corner.' But there was
no such luck for me, or my horse. ' It is as fast as a jail-
door,' said Loraine Smith, who was trying to open the
gate ; ' and there is not room to jump into and out of it.'
What was to be done 1 The hounds were going with a
burning scent, and appeared to be bearing away to the
left. ' Here goes, then,' said I ; ' there is nothing else for
it ; ' so catching fast hold of the young one's head, I sent
him manfully at the ox-fence ; but it had like to have
been a case. The ditch was broad and deep (Frank was
here observed to listen most attentively, with the hope,

41

no doubt, of being better acquainted with the nature and
character of this ox-fence), the hedge thick and plashed,
and the rail beyond them strong. Neither was this all.
There was a considerable fall, or drop, into the next. field,
which would have been bad enough had my horse landed
himself on the ridge ; but, unfortunately for us both, he
alighted in the furrow, which was deep and sticky. The
drop must have been six feet, at the least, and he had a
hard struggle to keep his legs, for he must have cleared
more than seven yards in length, or he would not have
got over it at all. It told upon him ; but I soon got him
upon a headland, and, standing up in my stirrups, took a
good pull at his head, which recovered him wonderfully,
before he got to the end of the ground, which was sixty
acres or more ; but you know, Mr. Raby, the thorough-
bred ones will do this. In short, he cleared a high gate
into the Uppingham and Leicester road, a little to the
right of Billesden, and a large, straggling, blackthorn
hedge, and a ditch out of it, with apparent ease to himself,
and greatly to my delight. ' This cannot last long,' I
said. ' I wish the fox would die, or that I had any horse
in my stable save this ; but Pug must go to ground in the
Coplow, or, at least, we may come to a check in it.' The
devil a bit ; he never went into the Coplow at all, but
straight away, as if for Lozeby plantations. I shall kill
the young one, thought I ; but what could I do? We
went right over Tilton field — the worst ground in the
country for a tired one — and out of it I got another fall ;
but I believe it was my own fault. The fence was of this
description, — it was plashed, newly plashed, with growers
in it as thick as a man's leg ; but (confound all
Leicestershire hedgers and ditchers !) the brushwood
leaned, uncut, towards me, over at least two yards of
ground, and there was a wide ditch on the landing side.
Brilliant was going gallantly at it, when, perhaps, think-
ing I was upon Harkaway "

Mr. Raby. — " Pardon me for interrupting you, Mr.
Somerby, in your highly interesting and well -told
description of this fine run ; but allow me to ask why those
who have such large studs of hunters at Melton do not
always have two horses out each day, which would afford
a chance to change in the course of the runs ; at all events
in many of them ? "

Mr. Somerby. — "Your remark is an obvious one. A

42 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

few of our hardest riders are inclined to do so, and I
hope to live to see the plan generally adopted. The
difficulty appears to exist in procuring fellows with
brains in their heads to ride the second horses properly, so-
as to bring them up fresh. However, to proceed. Perhaps,
thinking I was on Harkaway, who is rather slack at his
fences, or, more likely, fearing we might drop short, I
rammed my spurs into the young one's sides, and he
jumped further than he need have done. He kept his legs-
on landing, but the third step he took afterwards, his toe
struck the top of one of those ant-hills with which that
part of Leicestershire abounds, and down he went on his
head. He rolled completely over me, and we lay on the
ground together. He was up first, however — for I could
neither stir hand nor foot ; but it was only from the wind
being knocked out of me, and in a very few minutes I
caught him. Indeed, he was walking quietly away, with
his back turned upon the hounds, having very little puff
left in him ; in other words, he appeared regularly
pumped out. Nor did I like his appearance at all ; it
was anything but pleasing. His tail was shaking — his
flanks worked violently — his nostrils were much dis-
tended : there was that glare of the eye, also, which
horses exhibit when they are much overworked : and he
staggered as I leaned my weight on the stirrup. I stood
still for a moment, but could hear nothing. ' It's all
over,' said I ; ' they have run away from me ; I must go
home ; ' and I patted the young one on the neck, saying,
' Well, you have gone a good one,' and walked him along
a headland to a gate which led to a hard road. Here he
struck into a trot, without being urged to it by me, which
plainly showed he was recovering himself ; and the
bleeding from his cheek had ceased. ' Hark ! ' said I ;
' surely I hear the hounds; ' but Brilliant had heard them
before me. From a trot he struck into a gallop, and I
saw them about a mile ahead of me. ' The fox will not
long face this wind,' said I ; ' I have a chance of dropping
in with them yet. By Jove, they are coming round to
me ; he has turned short for Quenby. I shall catch them
at Newton village. What a tickler the nags must have
had over the Newton hills ! '

" As I predicted, I fell in with them in a road a little
beyond the village. There were eleven men with the
hounds, and I made the twelfth ; all the rest, as O'Kelly

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 43

said, after one of Eclipse's races — 'nowhere.' 'Where
have you been ? ' said one. ' Where I deserved to have
been,' was my reply. ' Are you hurt ? ' ' No.' But niy
horse ! what state was he in 1 Why, I will tell you. The
hard road had greatly recovered him and he leaped a
widish place out of the lane, when the hounds crossed
under his nose, as well as he could have leaped it in the
morning. ' He's heart of oak,' said I ; and I sent him at a
flight of rails nearly as high as his back, which he cleared
with apparent ease. In short, he appeared to be the
freshest horse in the field ; but he had had his puff, whilst
the others were going over the Newton hills (remember,
he was only a five-year-old). Distress was apparent in
all ; even Bernado began to refuse, which he never does
till he is beat (Forester swears he never was but twice);
and Meynell's grey looked very much like compounding.
Germaine got fast into a sheep-pen ; for although Melon
jumped into it, he would not jump out ; in short, the
jump had left him, and we never saw him again. ' Where's
the best place ? ' cried Cholmondeley, who could not face
some timber, and was looking for a creep through a
bulfinch ; he found it not, and we saw no more of him.
' How shall we get over the brook 1 ' holloaed Lockley,
who would have jumped one twice as wide in the morning,
and thought nothing about it. ' Go quick at it,' said I ;
and Brilliant went a yard beyond it. ' Well done the
five-year-old ! ' holloaed Martin Hawke, who was the
next moment over head and ears in the water ; his horse
never rose at it at all.

" There were now only five of us with the hounds, and
it began to be labour and sorrow with us all. As for
Brilliant, it was all over with him. The flash in the
pan had exploded — perhaps had been extinguished by the
brook. Nevertheless, I am ashamed to say, I persevered
with him, but I could scarcely lift him along ; — he
dragged his hind legs through the fences, and I could not
make him rise. He was, in fact, twice down on his head
in the space of a mile and a half, though we did not part
company. In addition to this, with the finest mouth in
the world, he leaned half his weight on my hand, and the
hounds were leaving me apace. ' I'll try him once more/
said I to myself; so got him on a smooth headland (for
ridge and furrow were destroying him), and sent him at
a stile at the end of it. For the first time in his life he

44 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

refused ; I put him at it again, and I thought he was
going to take it ; but he had not the power to rise, and,
swerving a little to the left, he ran his head into the
hedge, and floundered on his knees on the bank. I jumped
off him immediately, and thanked him for not giving me
a fall. Now what a situation was I in ! I could still see
the hounds, and the five men going by their side. But I
could only see them ; I could no longer be with them.
Like King Richard, at Bosworth, what would I not have
given for a horse !

" The sequel is now to come. The fox was killed about
three miles farther on, after one of the finest and severest
chases recorded, even in Leicestershire. But in what
condition were myself and my horse ? As for me, I was
bruised and sore, and had dislocated by right thumb ; I
had also left my whip and a slice of my breeches in the
bulfinch ; but these were only trifles. I trembled for the
fate of the five-year-old, and could not bear the sight of
his wound. I looked for a village and could see none.;
but I saw the house of a Leicestershire grazier, and that
was enough for me at the moment. I led Brilliant to his
stable, and his hack conveyed me to Meltoii.

" ' Richards,' said I to my groom — and no man has a
better — ' send a helper off with this hack directly, and
put yourself into the gig, without loss of time, Avith every-
thing necessary for a tired and maimed horse, and leave
him not till he is recovered ; that is to say (for I had my
fears), if he does recover. It was contrary to your advice
that I rode Brilliant to-day ; and, unfortunately for him,
it has been the hardest run we have had the last three
years.'

" ' It is a pity you rode him, sir,' replied Richards,
1 whilst you had so many other horses quite fit to go. I
think he will make the best hunter in your stable in an-
other year or two. But where shall I find him, sir? ' 'At
Mr. King's, near Hungerton,' was my reply. ' He has
turned one of his own horses out of his best loose box on
purpose to make Brilliant comfortable.' 'And where is he
cut, sir? ' asked the anxious groom ; ' is it a bad over-
reach, or have you staked him ? ' 'I have done neither,'
I said ; ' get to him as quickly as you can, and you will
see.'

" I dined that evening at the old club in Melton, where
there was a very pleasant party ; and went afterwards to

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 45

another house, where all sorts of fun was going on ; but I
could have no enjoyment ; I thought only of my poor
young horse. It is, however, time to finish my story.
The following day was Sunday, and I told Pritchard not
to call me till ten. However, I grew fidgety ; so rang my
bell at nine, and asked if there were any tidings from
Hungerton ? ' Yes, sir,' said Pritchard, ' Richards and
the helper returned home last night, after you were gone
to bed.' ' How was that ? ' I inquired. ' Brilliant n;as
dead, sir, before they reached the house." 'Shut the door,
said I hastily, ' and don't come near me till twelve.' I
had a good mind to have made a vow never to have hunted
again." l

At the conclusion, a dead silence was observed for a
minute or two : it was first broken by Mr. Egerton, who
had listened with the deepest attention. " I suppose, Mr.
Somerby," he said, "the scene you have been describing
is one of unusual occurrence ? "

"You mean the death of my horse," replied Mr.
Somerby.

" Not merely that," resumed Mr. Egerton. "It appears
to me strange that the word sport, which means diversion,
or pleasure, can be applied to the details of the day which
you have so minutely described. Here were upwards of
a hundred gentlemen assembled, at an immense expense,
hoping, no doubt, to enjoy the diversion of hunting a fox ;
but, by your account, not a tenth part were able to partake
of it ; for not more than that number saw a hound after
the first ten minutes, and those at prodigious peril to their
lives, great suffering to their horses, and, in your own
case, at the cost of a noble animal's life, and two hundred
guineas as well."

" You have hit my friend hard, Mr. Egerton," observed
Sir William. " I shall listen anxiously to his defence."

" You know we are no fox-hunters at Amstead, Mr.
Somerby," said Mr. Raby, wishing to put his visitor at his
ease ; " we only blow our horses now and then with the
harriers ; and my reverend friend there has never even
gone that length.''

" Yes, papa, but we do more than that sometimes," ex-
claimed Frank (Andrew had quitted the room, and gone

1 The reader may recollect a description, somewhat resembling
this, of a run over Leicestershire ; but it is lawful for an author
to take a leaf out of his own book.

46 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

to the ladies, in the middle of the story) ; " you know
Farmer Williams's mare dropped down dead, in the
middle of a turnip field, the beginning of this season, in
the famous run you had with that slate-pits hare."

" True, my dear," replied Mr. Raby ; " but Dick tells
me she had only been up from grass a fortnight, and that
she died from want of condition."

"Thank ye, Francis," exclaimed Mr. Somerby ; "I'll
drink a bumper to your health. You have given me a
capital lift in the defence I am called upon to make to
a somewhat serious charge, and to a reflection upon fox-
hunters and fox-hunting. You have helped me to the
very loop-hole at which I can escape. You shall now hear
what I have to say ; and, as I am sure you will, one day
or another, be a fox -hunter, I advise you to bear in mind
my observations. The facts are these : — Mr. Meynell,
and some other masters of foxhounds, have brought them
to the very highest pitch of perfection of which their
nature I believe is capable, both as to high breeding and
condition ; whilst the state of the horses that follow them
is left very nearly where it was. Strange to say, Cecil
Forester, the very best rider we have amongst us, and
supposed to be the best judge of a hunter, declares he
never saw half a dozen first-rate thorough-bred hunters in
his life ; the consequence is, that the half-bred horse is
still, for the most part, required to do what the thorough-
bred cannot more than do ; which is, to go a racing pace
over a country ; and he must go a racing pace to keep up
to Meynell's hounds. Then, again, the hunter remains in
the back-ground in another respect. Hounds are pre-
served in condition all the year round ; that is to say, they
are kept to a certain point of strength in their food during
the summer, and are exercised regularly till hunting
again commences. But how is the hunter served ? Why,
by the absurd prejudice of our grooms, to which we
inconsiderately give way, he is stripped of his fine con-
dition at the end of the season, — which, by the way, it has
taken half a year to acquire, — and allowed to run three
months abroad, accumulating a load of bad, flabby flesh,
amidst the persecution of flies by day, and subject to all
the vicissitudes of our climate by night. Now what
follows 1 He is taken up in August, and by the end of
October — at all events, by the first week in November —
is expected to be equal to more than the exertions of the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 47

race-horse who has never been entirely thrown out of
•condition since he was first saddled. These are the causes
of such distress and apparent cruelty to the horse that
follows foxhounds, and account for the few that, by means
of great accidental superiority in the animal, are alone abl-e
to see a fast and long run throughout. Thus, also, the
following paragraph, which I saw the other day in print,
is accounted for : — ' Mr. Meynell's hounds have had great
sport this season. Two extraordinary runs happened,
of a very rare nature. One was an hour and twenty
minutes, without a check, in which they killed their fox.
The other, two hours and fifty minutes, without a cast,
and killed. The hounds, in the first run, kept well
together, and only two horses performed it ; the rest of the
field were unequal to its fleetness. The other run alluded
to, was performed by the whole of the pack ; and though
all the hounds were up at the death, two or three slackened
in their pace just at the last. Only one horse went the whole
of it.1 x But we shall live to see these evils remedied.
Some person or another, who has witnessed their extent, and
reflected upon the causes, will, one of these days, expose
them. "We shall then hear less of tired horses, and very
little of those killed with hounds, and of runs in which
only one gets to the end, as in the extract I have just
quoted. Common sense, indeed, must at once direct us,
if we but give it a chance to do so. If hounds are every
year better bred, and go faster, the breed of our hunters
must also be higher and more pure. As the condition of
the former improves, so must that of the latter ; and I
have one consolation left me from the unfortunate occur-
rence which has called forth these remarks. I have made
up my mind, in future, to give my horses every chance in
their favour that it is in my power to afford them. I have
determined never to purchase a horse not quite, or nearly,
thorough-bred, so long as I hunt in Leicestershire ; nor
will I ever throw a hunter quite out of condition again.
' Let them down a little in the summer,' are my orders to
my groom ; ' but lose not what has caused you so much

1 See " The Meynelliau System ; by the late John Ha wkes. Esq.,"
p. 21. It is more than probable that one of the three horses thus
distinguished was ridden by Mr. Hawkes himself, one of the finest
horsemen of his day, both over a country and over a course. Many
of my readers will remember The Printer, and Featherlegs ; and
that Mr. H. always rode horses of pure blood.

48 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

trouble, and me such expense, to obtain. Lose not that
which, in fact, makes a middling horse a good one ; for I
fully agree with what I heard that fine sportsman, John
Warde, say, the other day, at the cover-side of the Pytchley
country, ' half the goodness of horses goes in at their mouths.' "

" Will you favour us," said Mr. Raby to his guest, " with
the names of some others of the conspicuous sportsmen
who have been hunting in Leicestershire with Mr. Meynell
in your time ? "

"With the greatest pleasure," answered Mr. Somerby.
" You will excuse my giving them as they present them-
selves to my recollection at the moment. There have
been amongst them — The Duke of Orleans ; Lords
Maynard, Spencer, Sefton, Winchelsea, Harborough,
Stair, Craven, Robert Spencer, Charles Manners, Robert
Manners, Paget, Villiers, Egmont, Chatham, and Somer-
ville ; Sirs Carnaby Haggerstone, John Shelley, William
Gordon, Harry Featherstonehaugh ; General Tarleton,
Colonel Carter ; Messrs. Loraine Smith, Prince Boothby,
Charles Wyndham, Lambton, Ralph Lambton, Forester,
Cholmondeley, George Germaine, Martin Hawke, Jacob
Wardell, Lemon, Cradock, Thomas and Robert Grosvenor,
Goodhere, Norman, Arthur Paget, Conyers, Morant,
Assheton Smith, Pole, Saville, Musters, the two Heyricks,
John Hawkes, Lockley, Charles Meynell, Hugo Meynell,
junior, Orby Hunter, Rose Price, Peach, Boates, Robert
Montgomery, Berkeley Craven, Puleston, John Madocks,
Vanneck, Bennet, Graham, Harnes (of Glen), Nedham,
&c. &c. There are also some excellent sportsmen amongst
the graziers of this part of Leicestershire, and none better
than Deverell and George Henton. Neither must I omit
Ted Hodges of Leicester, a very conspicuous sportsman, in
every acceptation of the word ; as a judge of cocking, a
nonpareil.

" Then, again, there is a new set just come among us —
Lords Plymouth and Foley ; Sirs Henry Peyton, Stephen
Glynne, and Wheeler Cuff; Messrs. Rawlinson, the
Lindows (twin brothers, and capital hands), Rolleston, and
Frank Forester ; the two Bruens from Ireland (with as
many horses as would do for a country fair), Lloyd, the
dandy Welchman, Apperley, and Thomas Assheton Smith,
better known as ' the Tom Smith.' !;

Here the conversation was interrupted (Mr. Egerton
was about to speak) by Frank exclaiming to his father,

DICK KNICKT

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 49

" Oh, papa, and has Mr. Somerby hunted in the Pytchley
country 1 Would you ask him to tell us something about
Dick Knight, whose picture, representing him topping
the park-pales on Contract, our huntsman has got in his
parlour ? "

"You unreasonable rogue," said Mr. Raby ; "I wonder
what you will ask next ? "

Mr." Somerby, however, having overheard the question,
good-naturedly replied to it :

" Why, Francis, I am scarcely old enough to have seen
Dick Knight in his very best day ; but the prints which
you speak of give an excellent idea of the man ; and,
from the knowledge the amateur artist, to whose pencil
we are indebted for them, had of him, as a huntsman and a
sportsman, we must give them full credit for accuracy of
design and character. Has he not exhibited him display-
ing all the good properties which his calling, as hunts-
man to foxhounds, requires ? In the first place, what a
horseman does lie appear ! How firm and beautiful is his
seat in the tremendous leap he is taking, obliged as he is,
at the same time, to stoop forward on his horse to avoid
the bough of a tree ! Then, what zeal he evinces ! and
what coolness, while changing his horse during the run, the
opportunity being afforded by his fortunately passing his
own stable door. Instead of being in a hurry to mount, he
casts his eyes towards his hounds and the country, before
he puts his foot into the stirrup. Then, see him with his
hounds at fault, and observe his anxiety for their safety,
whilst the colt is gambolling in the midst of them ; and,
lastly, mark him at the finish, with the dead fox in his
hand. ' Who-rchoop .' icas never so carried,' cries he, on
dismounting from the fore-horse of the team, whose state
of exhaustion is so admirably depicted by the artist, that
we could swear that, in one more field, the nag must have
died, if the fox had not. In fact, I have always told un-
friend, Loraine Smith, for he claims the honour of having
been the designer, that no hunting prints have ever yet
appeared anything like so good as those of which we have
been speaking ; neither do I believe there have been
many better huntsmen than the celebrated Dick Knight.

" Perhaps you will like an anecdote or two, Frank,"
resumed Mr. Somerby, "of this noted man. His master
is Earl Spencer, and a fine sportsman his lordship is. On
his return from London, last year, at the end of the gay

50 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

season, almost the first thing Dick said to him, was, that
he 'feared the country was about to be ruined.' Lord
Spencer being then high in the administration of it,
naturally associated the idea with the general ruin of
Great Britain, whereas Dick was only alluding to
Northamptonshire as a hunting country. ' What now,
then, Dick1?' said his lordship. 'Why, my lord,' he

replied, 'they are going to cut a d d canal through

the best part of our country ; ' a thing of all others, by
the way, most wanted by the inhabitants of it, and
which would benefit, instead of injuring it, as a hunting
country."

" How so, Somerby ? " said Sir William.

" Why, in consequence of the present great scarcity of
coals, from want of water carriage," continued Mr.
Somerby, "you will find, in many parts of Northampton-
shire, three high and strong blackthorn hedges, where
one only would be required. The object in planting
three, is, that one may be fit to cut down for fuel at a
certain period, and the others follow in succession. I
have often been stopped by these fences, which, as you
may imagine, nothing without wings can get over.

" But the other anecdote," resumed Mr. Somerby ;
" I must not forget that, as I see my little friend is on the
listen for it. There was a parson in the Pytchley country,
sadly given to press upon hounds, a fault never forgiven
by huntsmen. It happened that, one day, the parson
dropped short in a deep brook, and as he was floundering
about in the middle of it, Dick rode clean over him, with
these words in his mouth : ' His reverence sivims like a cork ;
but never mind him ; this is only Friday, and he won't
be wanted till Sunday? At a subsequent time there was
another of these inconsiderate riders with his hounds,
who, although well known in the sporting world,
happened to be a stranger to Dick Knight. Moreover,
he was clad in a blue coat, which added nothing to his
appearance and character, in Dick's eyes. At length the
gentleman got an awful fall, his horse rolling over him,
and he lay as if he were dead. ' There,' exclaimed Dick ;
' thank God we have done with you !' In a few minutes,

however, Mr. G was in his place again, when Knight,

observing him, coolly said to himself, ' A resurrection be/ore
the time, to a certainty. I had hoped never to have seen you
again in this world. I wonder what you'll do next f ' "

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 51

" "What a funny fellow that Dick Knight must have
been, papa," said Frank.

" Oh," said Sir William, " we have not done with him
yet, Frank. I was out with the Pytchley, once, when we
thought we were in for a blank day. In fact, it was
three o'clock, and not a tongue to a fox had been heard.
At last a hound, called Abelard, spoke : ' Hark ! ' said
Dick, holding up his cap, that he might hear the better ;
'that's Abelard. A reprieve, by the Lord!' I need hardly
add that he was right, for Abelard was the best hound in
the pack, and his blood is in most of the best kennels in
England ; the blood of the Pytchley Abelard, indeed, is a
passport to any hound."

" But we have omitted the best anecdote of Dick
Knight," said Mr. Somerby, " and my young friend here
must have that. Dick was a great favourite with his
noble master, and, like all favourites, now and then
presumed upon it. Having taken a tremendous leap,
one day, on Contract, Lord Spencer, who was next
to him, pulled up at it, and paused. ' Come along, my
lord,' roared Dick ; ' the longer you look, the less you will
like it.'

"The incident that led to the masterly execution of
these prints was a spirit of jealousy between Mr. Assheton
Smith * and Dick Knight, when they met together, on one
particular occasion, in the field, the former riding a
celebrated hunter called Egmont, and the latter the
equally celebrated Contract. In fact, it was Quorn versus
Pytchley. The prints were first published by Jukes, a
great printseller in London, who is said to have realised
fifteen hundred pounds by the copyright, which was
made a present to him by Mr. Loraine Smith.

"Loraine Smith, on another occasion, sketched himself
in the act of fording a river after hounds, with his coat-
skirts tucked up to his shoulders, and thereby getting a
considerable start of the rest of the field, with the excep-
tion of Lord Maynard, who chanced to follow him ; and
these lines written underneath the print :

'By following Smith, a cute chap at a pinch,
Who knows all the depths of the brooks to an inch,
Lord Maynard, too, followed, and both did embark,
Only wetting their tails just below water-mark.' "

1 Father of the present Thomas Assheton Smith.

52 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" I conclude," said Mr. Raby, " that Mr. Loraine Smith
is a good man across a country."

" Few better for his weight," replied Mr. Somerby ;
" his great excellences, as a rider to hounds, are, his
judgment, and fine eye to direct him in taking his line.
On the 12th of December 1792, he went to the end of,
perhaps, the finest run that Leicestershire had afforded
up to that period, called the Whetstone clay, the fox
having been found in Whetstone Gorse, between Lutter-
worth and Melton. It lasted upwards of two hours, with
only one check, and all over grass. Still, the person who
most distinguished himself was Jacob Wardle, who,
although he (with many others) went away with part of
the pack, which could not be stopped, and only got up to
the main body of hounds just as they recovered the scent,
at a check at the end of a very severe burst, took the lead
and kept it until the hounds ran into their fox, at the
expiration of the time mentioned. The horse he rode —
a thorough-bred grey, afterwards called Whetstone — had
never been ridden as a hunter before in his life, and was
purchased by Forester, for 250 guineas, in the field. Lord
Maynard, however, seeing the distress this horse exhibited,
pronounced that he would never be himself again ;
neither was he. Lord Paget, who rode a horse called
Slender ; Pole, on True Blue ; and Forester, on Sweeper,
also distinguished themselves on this memorable day.

" Mr. Loraine Smith, on this day, rode a horse he had
not long before purchased of Mr. Berridge ; but, not
having had a trial of his merits, he had not then given
him a name. It was, however, by plunging with him into
the river Wellin, near Langton, which he did at no small
risk with a horse somewhat beaten, that he was indebted
for a sight of the conclusion of this splendid run. He
had the good luck to meet the hounds, evidently runniny
into their fox, pointing for Market Harborough, having no
one in company with them but Mr. Wardle. Mr. Smith's
horse soon afterwards declined ; and Mr. Wardle, on this
young and raw horse, would have been a good two miles
ahead of any other man in the field, had the fox not been
headed nearly at the finish, which enabled several of his
brother sportsmen to witness it ; and a glorious finish it
was, too, in the middle of a large grass field. But, as
regards Wardle and his raw horse, the most extraordinary
part of the story is yet to come. The country about

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 53

Langton was then just newly inclosed, yet he jumped all
the strong post and rail fences without getting one fall.
Neither was his crossing the river Wellin undeserving of
notice. He pushed his horse before him, into deep water,
leaped upon his back whilst he was in the act of swimming,
and thus was carried to the opposite bank !

" I remember hearing of another desperate run, in which
Mr. Loraine Smith distinguished himself greatly by his
fine judgment in riding to hounds. On a day, with the
same pack (Meynell's), called ' the Alsops-house day,' he
appeared at cover on a five-year-old horse, of his own
breeding, called Shopleton ; and one, by his own admission,
not of high form as a hunter. He likewise got a bad start,
and never could get near the hounds till he met them on
Leak Hills, on their return from Gotham Wood. Not-
withstanding this disadvantage, towards the end of the
run, which embraced an immense sweep of country, him-
self and a gentleman named Deverill were the only two
that continued to keep with the hounds till they came to
Kinnoulton cover, when his (Smith's) horse slackened
pace. Deverill went on, and was the only man whose
horse could raise a canter when the fox was dying. He
rode a mare, called Gaylass, got by Lord Grosvenor's
famous Mambrino, whose fine picture by Stubbs has been
so much admired ; and, in consequence of her perform-
ance this day, she was sold to Sir John Shelley, and by
him to Sir Harry Featherstone, in both instances at large
prices, remaining a first-class hunter, in Leicestershire,
for several successive years. It was computed, at the
time, that, by his knowledge of the country, and the
points the fox was making, Smith saved three miles of
ground in the course of this run, which is the principal
cause of my having detailed the particulars of it to you.:>

" Now, Frank," said Mr. Baby, " you have had a great
treat ; so take yourself off to the ladies. I daresay you
will dream of Leicestershire and Dick Knight.1'

" "W e shall see him in Leicestershire, some day or
another," observed Mr. Sornerby.

" No," replied Mr. Raby ; *" at least, I hope not.
Melton Mowbray is no place for younger brothers : and
I fear it has often proved too much for elder ones."

54 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

CHAPTER III

Devoted to rural scenes and characters, and combining matter of
amusement and instruction, with maxims of sound theory, and
examples well worthy of imitation.

THE next day being Sunday, Frank had matters of a
graver kind to attend to — all very necessary, how-
ever, to guide him in the " race " he had to run ; and
the plain, comprehensible sermons he heard in Amstead
Church were admirably adapted to that purpose. But,
on the Monday, a pursuit was proposed to him, by Jem
Perren, the keeper's son, quite as much to his taste, at
that early age. This was a game, once in much vogue in
England, and especially in counties bordering on the sea-
coast, known by the name of " a crow's-nest race ; " — that
is to say, either a carrion-crow's nest, or a particular one
in a rookery, was to be climbed for, by three boys, and he
who first put his hand into it was the winner. Now this
was not at all to Andrew's taste ; so that Frank had to
look abroad for his competitors ; but he had no difficulty
in procuring them. One was the son of the rector, a fine
and spirited lad, and of the same year with himself ; and
the other, a son of a neighbouring gentleman, much of a
like kidney.

" That shall be the nest," said Frank, pointing to one in
the highest tree in the rookery. " Surely not," said young
Chapman ; " the boughs are very slender ; indeed they
look as if they would break with our weight." Jem
Perren was likewise of this opinion, and began to lament
having proposed the day's amusement. " Nonsense," said
Frank, "the tree is alive and good at the head, and I'll
be bound it will bear us." In fact, possunt, quia posse
videntur" was his motto ; and he thus addressed his
competitors : — " Now, my boys, off with your jackets !
wht'ii Jem gives the word, let us start."

The race is not always to the swift, but it is sometimes
to the bold; and this was the case here. It was well
enough contested, until the party arrived within a few
yards of the summit, when the apparent slightness of the
boughs, together with the frightful abyss below, caused
young Chapman and the other boy to pause. But Frank
was not to be daunted. "With the branches trembling

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 55

under him, onward he went to his point, and putting his
hand into the nest, cried out, " Who-whoop ! — I've done it !
Here are two eggs in the nest," which he instantly put
into his mouth, to secure them from being broken in the
descent.

" Glad to see you safe down, sir," said Jem Perren ; " I
was mortally frightened for you ; and, if you had tumbled,
what would my lady have said to me ? "

" Oh," said Frank, " if I was, like Andrew, to do
nothing but what mamma likes, I shouldn't have much
fun. But, Jem, I am sorry to see the rooks have begun
to lay, for it shows that it will soon be over with hunting
for this year. How curiously these eggs are speckled !
but they are not all speckled alike."

At this moment Mr. Egerton made his appearance, and
asked who had been taking rook's eggs, as it was Mr.
Raby's orders they should not be touched. Frank, at
once, confessed himself the culprit, having suffered
enough, on a former occasion, from concealing the truth,
— in plainer English, telling a direct lie.

" Do you see what misery you have inflicted on those
poor birds, which are hovering round their empty nest ? "
continued Mr. Egerton. "For my own part, I have
always been a great admirer of birds — their notes, their
nests, their eggs, and all the economy of their lives ; — nor
have we, throughout the order of creation, any beings that
so continually engage our attention as these our feathered
companions. It is my opinion, that whosoever can exercise
cruelty towards a sparrow or a wren, the most insignificant
of birds, would, when circumstances enabled him, be cruel
to his fellow-creatures."

" But, sir," observed Jem Perren, " father says, ' take
every nest you see, Jem ; they are nothing but varmint ' :
so I knows not what to do ; and you knows, sir, our
farmers gives sixpence a dozen for young sparrows ; and
in the last year's churchwarden's account, I seed, with my
own eyes, seventeen shillings paid for seventeen dozen
tomtit's heads, three and fourpence of which came to iny
share."

This was something of a damper for fine sentiment ; and
Mr. Egerton, taking out his watch, observed, that it wanted
but half an hour of dinner time.

" What's to be done to-day 1 " said Mr. Egerton to his
pupils, after school, on the morrow following the crow's-

56 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

nest race. " I am going in the phaeton, with mamma, to
call at the Grange," answered Andrew ; whilst Frank
admitted that he was informed, by Dick Perren, of a
marten cat, that he had seen in the big wood ; and he
believed he could show him the tree in which it makes its
bed. "I suppose, sir, there is no harm in killing him, if
we can ; as Dick says he not only destroys the game, but
the huntsman to the foxhounds will be very glad to have
him put out of the way ; for his hounds have run him
twice, without being able to catch him, and he scratched
some of them sadly."

" The marten cat," said Mr. Egerton, " is a very pre-
datory animal, and, as such, there can be no harm in
destroying him ; and if you take him alive, which I con-
clude you will do, I wish to see him previously to your
putting him to death, for he is a very beautiful animal.
Then, again, of all those called vermin, we have none
more admirably fitted for a predatory life than the marten
cat. He is endowed with great strength of body, for his
size ; is remakably quick and active in all his motions ;
has an eye so clear and so perceptive, that nothing can stir
without his observation ; and, to complete his accomplish-
ments, he has a perfect sense of smelling. Again, his feet
are peculiarly adapted to his habits ; not treading upright
on the balls alone, but with the joint bending, the fleshy
parts being imbedded in a very soft hair ; so that the
tread of the animal, even on decayed leaves, in a wood, is
scarcely audible by its prey, which it, consequently, very
seldom misses getting into its clutches. In fact, every-
thing combines to make him a very destructive animal ;
and, as he is neither protected by laws nor privileges, I have
often wondered that he has so long been suffered to exist-
in so populous a country as this. I find he was an object
of chase in former days, being mentioned, among the
beasts of venery, in the ' Book of St. Albans,' by Dame
Juliana Berners."

In about a fortnight from this time, Mr. Raby's harriers
ceased hunting for the season, and the foxhounds went to
finish theirs in a distant part of the country, in which
they had a kennel. This was, then, the commencement
of what are called the " dead months." An active mind
like that of our hero, however, could not remain without
some stirring pursuit ; so he devoted much of his leisure
hours to watching the operations of Perren, the head

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 57

keeper, in breeding and feeding pheasants, of which there
were, at that time, but few on Mr. Raby's estates, or,
indeed, on any other in the county. Now, Perren was
clever in this branch of his calling ; and a few of his
maxims were so well worthy of imitation, that his young
master cherished them through life. Amongst them were
the following : —

" In a young breeding-stock, never leave more than one
cock to seven hens, or as near to that proportion as you
can.

" When the hen pheasant is laying, or sitting, hang a
bit of red cloth, or a few links of iron chain, near her nest,
and no fox will molest her.

" Have a few patches of buck- wheat sown on the borders
of covers intended as pheasant preserves. They operate
like the salt-box in the dovecot, in attaching the birds to
the spot.

" When you feed in the winter, beam are the most econo-
mical food, because the small birds cannot eat them, as
they do the lesser grain. The small tick-bean is the best.

" The most dangerous time for pheasants, from the
attacks of vermin, such as foxes, &c., is after a wet night in
the moulting season. They are then naturally weak, and
their wings being heavy from rain, they do not rise so
quickly as at other times. They should now be watched.

" When rearing pheasants by hand, observe the following
rules : During the first month, feed with hard egg and
ants' eggs, but give nothing to drink. Feed early, but
don't let the young birds go abroad until the dew has
quite disappeared. Keep them very clean, and shut them
up at sunset.

" Second month : — Feed on wheat, barley, and ants'
eggs. Being now subject to vermin, let them be supplied
with sand to roll in ; and if the pip seizes them, rub their
bills with garlic, finely bruised, in tar.

" Third month : — When the new tail-feathers appear,
danger is always at hand. Give them plenty of ants' eggs,
and put them out, by day, on a white clover field, but not
exposed to sun. You may give them white clover-seed,
mixed with other grain."

Our hero being observed, on one of the subsequent
evenings, by Mr. Egerton, in earnest conversation with his
father, in the drawing-room, was thus addressed by him :
— " What is in the wind, now, Francis ? I perceive you

58 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

have been coaxing your father for something" " Why,
sir," replied Frank, " Jem Perren tells me that Mr.
Wright's otter-hounds meet at Cranby Mills to-morrow
morning, at five o'clock ; and he has consented to my
going out with them, provided the huntsman accompanies
me, to see that I do not get into danger ; but there is no
fear of that, as I am only to take my leaping-pole."

" W7hat ! " exclaimed Andrew. " Does Mr. Wright keep
hounds 1 I always thought he was so poor that he could
scarcely keep himself and family, much less hounds."

" Why, I fear, Andrew, what you say is too true ; and,
as Wright is a good, worthy fellow, I wish he was better
otf; but it shows how innate, in man, is the passion
for the chase, when he will forego, as poor Wright must,
many of the comforts, and even conveniences of life, to
indulge it."

On the following morning, at the early hour of five,
Frank Raby and the huntsman were at the Mill, where
Mr. Wright was in readiness for the sport, which he had
little doubt would ensue, as he had seen some very fresh
spraints (excrements) on the banks the evening before,
although he had failed in marking an otter to, or lodging
him in, his couch. He had but three couples of hounds,
and one three parts bull-terrier ; but all the party were
provided with spears, • which likewise served them for
leaping-poles.

The brook intended to be tried, having been " let off,"
as the term is, by shutting down the sluices at the mill
above, the banks and shallows were in a good state for the
purpose ; and in less than half a mile, the seal (or foot-
ball) of a full-grown otter was discerned, and the scent
soon got warm. The ear of these animals being very acute,
they seldom wait to be surprised in their couch, and such
was the case here. A view-halloo was given by Mr.
Wright, on seeing the object of his pursuit dart into the
stream, from the hollow of an old willow tree, about four
feet from the ground ; and now the chase began. It was
lor some time doubtful, from the superiority of the animal
over the dogs in swimming against the stream, and no
opportunity having occurred, during his vents (i.e. when
rising to the top of the water to respire), to strike him with
a spear, as to what the issue would be, whether blood
would be the result or not. In one of his vents, however,
whilst out of reach of the spearsman, an opportunity did

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 59

present itself to the bull-terrier, who leaped from the bank
on his prey, and a terrible conflict commenced. The otter
instantly dived below the surface, carrying the dog with
him ; and, had not the severity of his bite obliged the
otter to let go his hold, Lion would have been very shortly
drowned. But the animal had received a wound from
the strong jaws of Lion, which so crippled his powersr
that in less than half an hour from the time he was first
fouud, Mr. Wright exhibited him on his spear-head, to-
the great joy of the party, and particularly of Frank
Raby, who, to use the words of Taplin, one of the sporting
authorities of that day, was " ecstatic with delight." Un-
able to find another, the sportsmen returned to their
homes, Frank and the huntsman having been previously
refreshed by the honest-hearted master of this small pack.

" Well, Frank," said Mr. Raby to him, 011 his return,
" how do you like otter-hunting ? " " Oh, very good fun,"
he replied ; " but not so good as hunting with our own
hounds, because it is so soon over, for one reason ; and
again, I don't much like hunting on foot. But, papa, I
could have told all about it from those lines Mr. Egerton
read to us last night, in the library, from Someville's
' Chase.' It is quite curious how well he described every-
thing I saw with Mr. Wright's hounds. What a sports-
man Mr. Someville must have been, eh, papa ! "

" Why," replied Mr. Raby, " I am unable to speak de-
cidedly on that point ; but he was an amiable man, and
a good country gentleman ; although, by his liberality
exceeding his means, he greatly injured his estate, but not
his family, for he had none. Doctor Johnson, however,
who lately wrote his life, as a poet (the Doctor, I presume,
could say nothing of him as a sportsman,) allows him one
merit — that of setting a good example to men of his own
cla>s, by devoting part of his time to elegant knowledge ;•
and showing, by the subjects which his poetry has adorned,
that it is practicable to be at once a skilful sportsman and
a man of letters — a hint which I trust, Frank, you will
take to yourself. But the Doctor could not let him off
without a slap. He says — ' He writes very well for a gentle-
man.' "

" Well," resumed Frank, " I shouldn't wonder but
Wilkius, who drives the Balloon coach, had been reading
what Dr. Johnson said of Mr. Someville ; for, on my
asking him, the other day, if Sir John Inkleton was not a

60 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

very good coachman 1 he answered, ' Why, Master Francis,
Sir John drives very well for a gentleman.'1 "

As the summer season approached, Frank was sometimes
•put to a nonplus for his pastime ; for, although he was
making great proficiency in angling, and had commenced
trying his hand at the gun, change was now and then
sought for by him ; and he addressed his father, on the
eve of Whit Monday, with — " To-morrow is our Whitsun
fair, papa ; I wish you would let Andrew and myself go
to it. I hear there is much fun there after the business
of the day is over.;>

" I am glad to hear it," replied the father ; " all nations,
ancient and modern, have allowed and encouraged sports
and festivities amongst the lower orders of the people, as
the best means of preventing greater and more serious
•evils ; and he who would check them, when kept within
reasonable bounds, commits a great mistake. For my own
part, I myself, as a magistrate, rather encourage them,
than otherwise ; being convinced that, whatever tends to
make people happy, tends to make them good ; and you
know we have very little crime in these parts. Now, I
have no objection to your brother and yourself riding over
to the Whitsun fair, in the cool of the evening, taking
your words for not getting into any mischief."

Andrew and his brother having partaken of an early
dinner, afterwards proceeded, on horseback, to the village
revels. And here they met with an incident, which it
may not be amiss to relate, as a caution to all fair-goers
who are not " wide awake." A person approached them
£,t full speed, on rather a shabby-looking pony, whom they
found to be the son of the miller at the Abbey, and one
who had an excellent opinion of himself, the result, per-
haps, of his old father's almost everyday boast, that " our
John is a very 'cute young chap, and not to be done by
any on 'em." "Oh, young gentlemen," exclaimed the
miller, pulling up the pony with a jerk, "I hope the
Squire is at home." "He is," replied Andrew; "but
what's the matter, John?" "Oh, sir," resumed ' our
John,' " I have been sarved such a trick— and I could
have sworn the man warn't born that could have done it.
You know, gentlemen, our four-year-old colt, father bred
out of the blind mare, a real soldier1 all over, and honestly

1 In the time of war it is customary for dealers to say of a horse
that he would make a good soldier — meaning a troop horse.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 6r

worth soldier's price, or a little more ! Well, gentlemen,
arter riding him only twice up and down the fair, as I
was turning him round to go again, at the corner of New
Street, up comes two as respectable-looking gentlemen as
a man should see in a score, dressed in top-boots and
leather breeches, and says to me, ' What's the price of the
young nag, miller ? ' ' Thirty guineas,' says I ; you know
I left a little for bating.1 'Sound?' says one. 'Quiet?'
says t'other. ' Lord love you, gentlemen,' says I, ' why,
father bred him. There 'isn't a sounder nor a gentler
creature on the face of earth, as his mother, indeed, was
afore him : and he's all over a soldier, if not an officer,
which father says he is.' Now, Master Raby, how do you
think they sarved me? 'Any objection, miller,' says one
of these chaps — devils, God forgive me, Master Raby — (here
Frank could scarcely refrain from laughing) — 'for me to
throw my leg o'er the young one, for a hundred yards or
so, and you can hold my pony the while 1 ' ' None in the
least, sir,' says I ; ' ride him, by all means ; you'll say you
never was on the back of a nicer nag in all your life, and
by the time he has been one month in the stable of a
gentleman like you, nobody wouldn't know him again.'
Well, Master Raby, away goes this chap on father's nag,
and away rattles t'other all sorts of stuff to me, such as —
how was wheat selling in this country ? was father a free-
holder, or some big gentleman's tenant ? did we grind by
wind or water ? and all such questions as those. How-
somever, I soon found out that father was ground out of
his horse, clean enough ; for thinking it a long time before
the chap who was riding him came back, I says to t'other
chap — ' Where can the gentleman be?' 'I'll run up this
street,' said he, ' and see ' ; and so he did, but I seed no
more of our horse from that time to this, and all I've got
to show for him is this here pony (which they tells me is
glandered), that the second chap left with me to hold,
when he run up the street after t'other. Now, young
gentlemen, if it warn't for father and mother, nobody
should have seen me in the parish of Amstead again : I
would have gone for a soldier, along with father's colt :
for they tells me he will be at Bristol by to-morrow night,
and away to the army, in a ship, before we could get there
arter him."

Here this part of the scene closed ; and that which
1 Twenty-five was the ultimum price of troop horses.

62 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

occurred on the meeting between ' 'cute John " and his
father may be imagined by all who have read that
between the Vicar of Wakefield and his son Moses, on
the return of the latter from a very similar expedition ;
neither can much be said of the appeal to the Squire of
Amstead, as a magistrate. As for granting warrants for
two "respectable-looking persons in leather breeches and
top-boots," that was quite out of the question : forasmuch
as, in those days, half the buyers and sellers of horses in
the fair were thus accoutred ; moreover, in the case of
these two rogues, it would have been doubly useless, as no
doubt but the said leathers and top-boots were hidden
from sight, by smock-frocks, or overalls, as soon as the
wearers of them were once clear of the town ; and at
least three inches taken off the colt's tail, if he were not
further disfigured. All that Mr. Eaby could do, was to
throw back ten pounds of his rent to the old miller at the
next audit-day, to console him for his loss, and to caution
Tiim, in future, from making " our John " believe there
were not sharper fellows in a horse fair than the son of a
country miller.

It was the wish of Mr. Eaby that his sons should learn
the art of fishing, in its higher branches, if such a term
may be allowed me ; but he discouraged the practice of
angling with live worms for small fish, as being both
cruel and unprofitable. " The art of angling," he would
?ay, " opens a wide field for the naturalist ; and is a
•rational and contemplative amusement — cheap, and in-
structive withal." Mr. Egerton, himself a fisherman, also
encouraged this sport in his pupils, reminding them
not only of its antiquity, but that it was not considered
infra dig. by Homer, Virgil, and other celebrated poets,
when distinguishing their heroes by their professions,
^business, or pursuit, to mention the " skilful angler."

Andrew entered heartily into this sport, and, by the
instructions of the keeper, Perren, became a rather
dexterous fly-fisher ; he could also take good pike with
his trolling-rod, generally making his bait an artificial
minnow, or frog, by the advice of his amiable tutor.
" Why torment fishes or insects," he would say, " by
impaling them alive on hooks, when inanimate objects
will be equally attractive as baits 1 Besides, inde-
pendently of the reflection cast upon angling, from the
unnecessary pain inflicted, the principal art of the fisher-

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 63

man lies in his choice of flies. For example : do you not
remember, last summer, when you accompanied me to the
Grange, that Mr. Holmes, the rector, killed nearly as
many trout as the rest of the party altogether ; and when
grayling fishing, in October, he actually filled his basket,
whilst the rest of us could scarcely take a fish ? Then,
again, I believe you heard the story of Mr. Musters, in
the preserved waters of his friend, near Uxbridge. There
was a trout of six pounds in a hole, which the keepers of
the owner of the domain had long tried to take, but they
had always failed in their attempts. Mr. Musters came
down from London for the purpose, choosing a favour-
able day, — took the fish at the third throw, and gave the
keepers a guinea."

" Pray, sir," inquired Frank, " which do you consider
to be the best rivers for grayling ? "

" The Dove and the Trent," replied Mr. Egerton, " are,
I believe, about the best ; and the Teme, which runs
through Herefordshire and Shropshire. In this river,
near Ludlow, was caught the largest grayling ever seen
in England ; it measured half a yard in length, and
weighed four pounds six ounces, which is considered a
prodigious size and weight for this species of fish. By-
the-by, I can tell you an anecdote relating to this river,
which is highly complimentary to the pursuit of fishing,
associated as it is with a love of rural scenery (in which
that country abounds), and the enjoyment of the beauties
of nature. The aiitumnal months are best suited to this
stream ; and it happened that General Tarleton, after
having revelled in the pleasures and luxuries of a London
season, retired to the village of Leintwardine, about nine
miles from Ludlow, for the purpose of fishing for grayling
in the Teme. He had excellent sport ; and when he left
the small inn at which he had sojourned for a month, he
wrote the following postscript to the landlord's bill : ' I
voluntarily add the sum of twenty pounds to the amount
of this bill ; being not only an acknowledgment of its
very moderate charges, but in testimony of the fact that
the month which I have passed in the village of Leint-
wardine has been the happiest that I have hitherto
passed.'"

There is one practice of the fisherman in which Frank
Raby was desirous to excel, and this was the dexterous
throwing of the casting-net, at which Perren, the head

64 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

keeper, was a proficient. Dressed in his smock-frock,
then, would Frank be seen at the shallows, below the
mill, in which gudgeons and perch were plenty ; and
he was now and then rewarded with a pike, in the
deeper parts of the river, which were clear from reeds or
weeds. But the casting-net is not a certain engine of
destruction, as relates to large fish ; its chief use is for
catching what is called " small fry," either to stock waters
with, or for baits, where live baits are used ; and out of
the multitude of fish which it takes, when thrown by a
good hand, there is much choice to be made. But the
exercise of this net is an act of much grace, when cast as
it should be cast ; for, although it resembles a bell in
shape, whilst remaining in a quiescent state, when spread
to its utmost extent it forms a complete circle. Long,
then, before Frank arrived at maturity, there was not
a person in the neighbourhood who could handle this
net better than he could, his fustian-jacketed preceptor
excepted. He was, likewise, a fair hand at a trout, and
the knowledge of the flies best adapted to taking him, at
various times and seasons ; at the same time there was, in
his estimation, somewhat of a tameness throughout the
entire proceedings of the fisherman, which gave him some
difficulty in determining whether he really liked it as a
sport, or merely endured it as the means of beguiling a
few vacant hours.

There was one reason for a difference of taste in the
pastimes and pursuits which these brothers exhibited,
and this was in the nature of the physical constitution of
each, which seldom fails to have its effect on the intel-
lectual one. Andrew had been a weakly child from his
birth, and he was, consequently, imequal to enter into
the rough and arduous pursuits which alone seemed to
fascinate our hero. But the time was now arrived when
both were to make their start in the world, and repair to
a public school, as their father had done before them, and
for which they were well prepared by Mr. Egerton. Yet
here arose a difficulty, which it will be in my power to
account for, as likewise to show how it was obviated.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 65

CHAPTER IV

The hero enters upon the stage of life, and also on another stage,
which, with various incidents narrated in this chapter, will be
found corroborative of the adage, that—" as the twig is bent,
the tree's inclined."

I HAVE already presented to the reader the character and
situation of the brother of Mr. Raby, uncle to the two
boys ; but it may be necessary further to observe that,
having made up his mind to remain a bachelor, as more
congenial to his unconquerable love of ease and quiet, as
well as to his generally epicurean habits, he had settled
in his own mind that Frank Raby should succeed to
his fortune, which, as I have already stated, was con-
siderable, and likely to increase, rather than diminish
in his hands. This being the case, it is but reasonable to
suppose that he interested himself in everything relating
to the formation of the character of his intended heir, who,
although he rather encouraged than checked his desire to
become a sportsman, he was very anxious should become
a scholar, to fit him for that place in society it was his
intention to have occupied himself, but which constitu-
tional indolence put a bar to. With this view, then, he
paid a visit to the Abbey, to talk over matters with his
brother, respecting the future education of his nephew ;
it having been communicated to him, that, after the
midsummer holidays, both Frank and his brother Andrew
were to be sent to a public school. The result of this
visit, as regarded the point in question, will be seen in the
following dialogue :

" Well, brother,'1 said Mr. Andrew Raby, " I find the
boys make their debut in the world after midsummer ;
have you determined on Eton ? "

" Why, as we were Etonians ourselves," replied Mr.
Raby, " and have had no cause to repent of having been
so, I see no objection to Eton ; but have you yourself
any?"

" None, whatever, to the school. Dr. George Heath
who is at the head of it, and Dr. Goodall, the second
master, are both scholars ; although the first, in spite of
his witty translation of the celebrated line —
' Ille dolet vere, qui sine teste dolet.'

66 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

is as bare of humour as a hurdle is of flesh ; and if Goodall
had a little more of the stoic about him — at all events, a
little more firmness — Eton would be none the worse as
a school. But, as you kindly ask me the question, I
candidly tell you, I had rather that the two boys should
not both go to the same school, and I will give you my
reason. Frank, though not wanting in parts, is disposed
to do as little as he can possibly help with Mr. Egerton,
and I am much afraid that if he were at Eton, with his
brother, he would coax him into making his exercises for
him, which his naturally affectionate disposition would,
I am sure, induce him to do. You are aware, brother, of
my intentions towards Frank. I not only mean to leave
him what I am possessed of, but it is my earnest wish that
he should sit in Parliament, and make a figure in the
world, in some other way than as a mere sportsman, which,
it is evident, he is resolved to be."

The door of the library opening at this moment, the
conversation between the brothers was momentarily in-
terrupted by the appearance of a neighbour, who was on
terms of the greatest intimacy with them both. This
was Mr. Freemantle, a rich London banker, who had
purchased a fine property in the county, where he was
beloved and respected by all for the kindness and
hospitality which he displayed, as well as for the first-rate
talents of his cook.

" Raby," said the banker, " how are you ? What !
Andrew, are you here ? Delighted to see you both ; but
didn't know you were come down, Andrew. What news
from town, eh ? How could you find it in your heart to
leave town at this gay time ? "

'• Why, you may suppose that it is something extra-
ordinary. The fact is, we are discussing the point
whether Eton or Westminster school is best suited for
Frank. Xow, what say you ? "

" Why, as to what boys may bring away in their heads
from either, I don't think there is the toss-up of a guinea
between the two ; but, as to what they may bring away
in their pockets, there is a wide difference between them.
A terribly aristocratic place is that Eton school, and I'll
give you a proof or two. When my nephews were there,
I gave them a five-pound note on the Friday, as I passed
through to visit a friend at Taplow ; and on my return
to town on the Monday, chanced to see one of them at Salt

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 67

Hill. 'Well, William,' said I, 'how milch of the five-
pound note is left ? ' ' The five-pound note ! ' he replied ;
' why not a rap : it all went the same day ; part to pay
off a score for filberts and sherry ; and the rest to Jem
Stevens, for hack horses and tandems.' Then, how much
do you think one of these chaps owed for gloves ? Why,
three pounds sixteen shillings ! But, now I think of it,
and I never mention Salt Hill that I don't think of it, I
can tell you a better story than either of these, to show
how little your Eton blades think of money. I had these
same hopeful nephews of mine (by the way, you know
they have turned out very well, both perfect gentlemen)
to dine with me, on a whole holiday, at Salt Hill, and was
soft enough to tell them to bring half a dozen of their
friends with them. Well, of course, they did so ; and a
fine lot of youths they were ; very highly bred, I believe,
all, and the son of a duke amongst them. I gave them a
good dinner, but was diverted by an incident in the
middle of it. ' Hand round the champagne,' said I to

the waiter ; but Lord S put his hand on the top of his

glass, and said, ' No champagne for me ; / am a sherry
man.' Pretty well, thought I, for a lad of fourteen.
However, they all delighted me by their behaviour, which
was correct in every respect ; but when about to rise from
the table to return to Eton, I found that I had not done
with them yet. ' You must pouch these fellows, uncle,'
whispered William. ' Pouch them,' said I ; ' what do you
mean by pouching them ? ' ' Tipping them,' was "his
reply. ' They will consider themselves insulted if you do
not.' ' Ah ! ' resumed I, ' now I comprehend you ; and
what must I give them ? ' ' Oh ! ' replied James, my
younger nephew, 'a guinea apiece mil do.' Here, then,
was a good day's work ; for what with the bill at the inn,
and the poiichiwj, I had not much left out of a twenty-
pound note."

" A true bill, no doubt, Freemantle," said Mr. Raby ;
" Eton, I find, is about the same as it was in my time ;
and your mention of Stevens, whose miserable hacks we
used to ride, often at the expense of a flogging, reminds me
of an anecdote of his hopeful son, Jem. When Wentworth
left Eton, he was so enamoured of this aspiring blade, that
he hired him as his personal servant ; but he returned to
his old quarters, at the expiration of three months ; when
he thus accounted for himself, as we magistrates say on the

68 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN7

bench. ' Mr. Vorth,' said he, ' was veil enough ; indeed
he vished to hedicate me, and bought vigs for me, that I
might learn to cut hair, and did many kind things besides ;
but his walet and I couldn't agree at all. At last, however,
ve had a reg'lar blow up ; and finding that Mr. Vorth
backed the walet against me, I vopped him and the -walet,
and here I am, once more.' "

"Well," observed Mr. Andrew Raby, "these are ex-
tremely amusing stories, and very characteristic of Eton ;
but let us return to our discussion on the question of
choice between the two schools, and also hear what our
friend Freemantle has to say on the subject."

" Why, if you wish for my opinion," replied Mr.
Freemantle, " you shall have it ; but, mind ye, it will be
one, perhaps, that you Eton and Oxford men — and you, in
particular, Andrew, who brought honours with you from
Oxford — may not exactly admire. Scholarship, or, if you
will, learning, has been rung in my ears as the sumrnum
bonum — the one thing necessary for man. In fact, to say
of a person that he is a scholar, seems to imply every kind
of superiority ; and to say that he is no scholar, the
reverse. Now, I confess that, after much reflection and
much inquiry, I am at a loss to comprehend the mighty
benefits of what is called fine scholarship. Some
advantages it certainly has ; but, perhaps, its disadvantages
are greater than we think, and for these reasons : — It too
often prevents the excursions of a vigorous understanding,
by keeping it in a beaten track, the invariable practice
of all great schools ; it perpetuates error, by imposing
received opinions upon those who, if they had thought
for themselves, would have discovered truth ; it divides
the attention, and often fixes it on subjects which are not
suited to that particular genius and turn of mind, which
nature would have exerted upon some other, the object of
her own choice, and with much more advantage. Neither
is this all. By loading the memory, it restrains the
imagination ; and, by multiplying precepts, it anticipates
the judgment. Give me the man whose knowledge is
derived from the copious sources of his own reason ; whose
mind is filled with ideas that spring not from books, but
from thought ; whose principles are co-existent, because
deduced in a regular ratiocination, and not from scraps of
different systems gleaned from the works of others and
huddled together without examination. Where is the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 69

scholar whose opinion can be said to be entirely his own ?
Or where is the genius that we wish to have trammelled
by the impressions of others? Are we sure Shakspeare
would have been what he was, had he been a deeply-read
scholar ? At all events, our public seminaries of learning
do not exactly correspond with the precept delivered by
the Spartan king, — 'that the child should be instructed
in the arts which will be useful to the man ; ' and if my
father had had nothing to boast of but a first-class degree
at one of your Universities, I should have never had the
honour of being a banker's son. Nevertheless, although
it is possible that a finished scholar may emerge from our
schools and colleges, in total ignorance of the business and
conversation of English gentlemen in the latter end of
the eighteenth century, I am still ready to admit the
advantages to be derived from the study of the Latin
and Greek languages. They deposit in the hands of a
disciple, the keys of two valuable chests : and it is his
own fault if they are afterwards lost, or laid aside."

The morning of setting forward for school having
arrived, it produced various sensations at Amstead Abbey.
As for the two boys, the novelty of the thing, the thoughts
of the journey, and the pocket-money, made their hearts
light ; but there were other hearts very differently
affected, and one overpowered with its weight. This, as
may be supposed, was that of the good and affectionate
Lady Charlotte, who, as she could not command her
tears, declined taking leave of her sons. Xor was Mr.
Raby very fit to appear in their presence, although he
strove to conceal what he felt. But there were two
belonging to the establishment of the Abbey, whose
feelings could not be controlled, and these were Dick
Perren and the cook : the one absohitely bellowed from
the effect of his grief at the loss of Master Francis, his
young master ; and the other, who, notwithstanding what
she occasionally suffered from his tricks, loved him as
the apple of her eye, betrayed the amiable weakness of
woman, but by no means to her discredit. Her method
of exhibiting it, however, was a singular one : she had
taken her station at the first gate in the park, at which
she knew the carriage must stop while the footman opened
it, and approaching, with her face nearly inclosed in
her apron, she chucked into the carriage two half-guineas,
wrapped in a bit of white paper, with these words

70 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

inscribed — " God bless you both." And what return did
she get for this silent, though not less eloquent offering
to her grief ? Why, Frank put his head out of the window
of the carriage as it passed on, and, schoolboy-like, roared
out, " You stupid old fool!"

The party arrived at the county town just in the nick
of time. The horses were being put to the " Balloon," and
Wilkins was coming out of the office, with his whip in
one hand, his way-bill in the other, and a "Benjamin"
thrown over his left arm — all evident signs of being quite
ready to start. Having walked once round his horses,
and examined their coupling reins and curb chains, after
the manner of those times, he addressed his young
passengers, as they alighted from their father's carriage,
with —

" Glad to see you, young gentlemen ; proud of the
honour of having you about the coach. Two insides and
one out — box-seat — all right! — A beautiful morning.
Now, Mr. James (to the footman), be alive with the
luggage, if you please ; we are all ready for a start ; and
you know we are werry particular at this end, if we can't
always be so at t'other."

" I say, Wilkins," said Frank, " I shall not ride inside
after we get out of the town ; I shall come alongside you
on the box, and put James inside with my brother."

"Very good, sir," replied Wilkins, "proud to have you
on the box : you'll be one of us, some day or another,
Master Francis, I am quite sure ; but, will your papa "

" Pooh ! " exclaimed Frank, " how will papa know
about it?"

" Not from me, Master Francis," resumed Wilkins,
" I never tells no tales ; but you had better not come out
till we get through Clifford, for the parson there is almost
always at the window when the coach passes by, and he
is a tattling old devil ; ten to one he don't slip it out next
time he dines at the Abbey. We shall stop to water at
the ' Black Dog,' Master Francis, and then you can come
on to the box."

The coach having arrived at the "Black Dog," and the
exchange between Francis and the footman having been
completed, the following edifying conversation ensued
between the master and his pupil : —

" Do you feel yourself comfortable, Master Francis ? "
began Mr. Wilkins — " never on a coach before, eh ? Here,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 71

put a bit of my box-coat over your knees, 'twill keep off
the dust from your clothes."

" I like being on the box very much," replied Frank,
" but how it shakes ! "

"Ay, master," said the old coachman, "it does that,
sure enough, 'specially with one who ain't used to it ;
they do say, they are going to put the boxes of all stage-
coaches on springs, but Heaven knows when that will
be — not in my time, I fear. Our people say it won't do,
that we shall go to sleep upon them ; but there's no danger
of a man doing that now, even if he should be a bit
overtaken with drink. But, Master Francis, there is a
great deal of hart in sitting on a coach-box, as well as
in driving four houses. Your body must go with the
swing of the box, and let your lines (loins) be as lissom as
you can. It would kill a man, in a week, to drive as far as
I do, over such a road as this, if he did not do as I say."

" You have got good horses in the coach, "Wilkins,"
observed Frank.

" Good creatures in natur', sir," was that worthy's reply,
" but they haven't no chance. This here sixteen miles of
ground and only one rest-horse, kills them. To be sure,
master grubs them well, or they'd been dead years ago."

" Years ago ! why, how old are they ? "

" Why, I was going to say, you must ask my father that
question. Howsoniever, I have drove three of the four,
nine years, and t'other came to this coach from the
' Express,' the first year I drove it : I think he must be
quite twenty."

" But how fat he is ! "

"Always the case with groggy ones," observed Mr.
Wilkins ; " as soon as they have filled their bellies, they
are down on their bed, because they are in pain when
they stand up. A foundered coach-horse, like a gouty
alderman, is always fat. But this near wheeler is my
favorite (giving him, at the moment, three tremendous
stripes, with his double thong, over his back, and two
over his ears, followed by a sort of rolling noise in his
throat, resembling that made by gargling for a sore one) ;
you'll see how he'll hug his collar going up Brampton-
hill, at the end of this stage. He's half a team himself,
but still lie's an awkward chap to drive. There's some
difference, sir, I can assure you, between driving well-
bitted fresh horses, like your papa's, and such dead-alive

72 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

bow-kickers as these are, all as shifty as a lawyer : in
fact, this off-wheeler is a lawyer all over, for he'll not
work at all, if he is not devilish well paid for it ; and I
keep a short Tommy in the boot, on purpose to pay him
off. Howsomever, Master Francis, you shall try what
you can do with them if you like, so shift over to my
side, and I'll put the reins right in your hand." [Here
it may be observed, that the short wheel-reins being
generally in use at that time, the placing the reins of
four horses in the hand of a tyro was not a complex affair.
The wheel-reins merely rested across the left hand, after
passing between the fore and the middle finger, and those
of the leaders passing between the thumb and fore finger,
and the fore and middle finger, were very readily distin-
guished from the others.]

" Now, Master Francis," resumed old Wilkins, " mind
what you are about. Keep your wheel-horses to their
collars, and your leaders will get out of their way of
themselves. Now, let me see you point your leaders to
the left without moving your wheel-horses. Well done,
master ! that will do. Xow shoot out your wheelers to
the right without disturbing your leaders. Ah ! that's not
so easily done ; but it will come all in time. A man wants
three hands to stir these bow-kickers, 'specially if he
ain't used to them. But let me see you hit this near
wheeler. Well, not much amiss, Master Francis, though
something like thrashing. I fear the old horse thinks
you are playing with him, for he minds you no more than
a bolster does a flea-bite. Now touch up the grey mare.
Ah ! master, that won't do. Always hit a leader below
the bar, or you will be for ever having a bite, but catch
no fish. But now, sir, if you please, I'll take 'em in hand
again down the hill, for it's a long fall, and, as I told you
before, this near wheel-horse is rather given to say his
prayers, if he steps on a loose stone."

At the bottom of the hill (they were now close upon a
village), Wilkins pulled up his coach, and, in an undertone,
said to an outside passenger, " Now, sir, if you please,
will you get down, and walk through the town ? " On
his afterwards resuming his seat, at the other end of it,
the dialogue thus proceeded :

" What is the meaning of this, Wilkins ? " asked Frank ;
"why not let that passenger ride through the town? —
you are not heavily loaded." " Why, sir," replied Wilkins,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 73

" between you and me, I means to swallow that gentleman
to-night." '

" Swallow him ! — what the deuce do you mean 1 "

" Why, Master Francis, I don't mind telling you, because
all the servants at the Abbey says that you are not one
of the wide-in-the-mouth sort, no tale-teller. We poor
coachmen, you know, sir, must live; that is to say, we
must make tongue and buckle meet at the end of the year,
or we gets into trouble. Xow, this can't be done for only
ten shillings a week on such a dull road as this, besides
what we kicks the passengers for, without a bit of shoulder-
ing. This gentleman is what we call a shoulder-stick,
and, instead of his fare going to the proprietors of the
coach, it finds its way into my short pocket."

" And do you never get found out 1 "

"Sometimes. I lost one good sarvice, owing to
shouldering a sodger. Made a vow, Master Francis, never
to shoulder another sodger, for a proprietor can see him a
mile off. Xo more cocked hats and feathers, said I, for
me, except they are on the bill, and then they ain't worth
having."

Just at this moment the "Balloon" coach, down,
appeared in sight ; and, on both coaches being pulled up
alongside each other, the following somewhat symbolical
sentences were interchanged.

" How do, Joe ? "

"How do, William?"

" Anything said ? "

" Xo ; but I thinks the young one's fly."

" Good day, Joe ; there's three in and two out, booked
for you to-morrow."

But we must here close this portion of our history.
Let it suffice to say, that Frank got another lesson from
Wilkins, with some hints which he never forgot : but on
the approach of night, resumed his inside place, and, in
due time, found himself safe in London, under the roof
of his uncle, who was delighted at the thoughts of his
nephew making such a promising start in the world, with
the assurance that, in after-life, he would have the means
of supporting both the rank and character of a gentleman.

It was three years since the young Rabys had been in
London, a period at that early age well-nigh long enough
to obliterate all recollection of what it had appeared to
be. Three days, however, having been allowed them to

74 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

see what was best worth seeing in their eyes, they made
the most of their time, nearly exhausting the energies of
their uncle, who made no small sacrifice in exerting them.
And there was one place which he had believed nothing
could have ever induced him to visit again, being so very
little to his taste, and that was Tattersall's.

" Do let us go to Tattersall's," said Frank to his uncle,
on the Monday ; " I should so like to see all the fine
horses he sells ; besides which, I daresay, we shall meet
with some of papa's friend*."

To Tattersall's then they went, and witnessed a curious
scene. The impatience of a schoolboy is proverbial ; and
that of Frank Raby for the scene of action, having got
the better of the tardy motions of his uncle, the party
found themselves at " the Corner " at least an hour and a
half sooner than they need have been, a period of the day
when the auctioneer is employed in offering for sale a
few low-priced hacks, as a sort of prelude to the more
important scene which is to follow, when the aristocratic
part of the audience assemble. This, however, passed
unnoticed by the uncle, who was no horse man, but not
so by Frank Raby. " What ! uncle," says he, " is this
the famous Tattersall's that I have heard Sir John
Inkleton and my father talk so much of? — where Sir
John sold eight grey coach horses, not warranted sound,
for £800 ? Why, I did not see a worse set of rips at our
Whitsun fair ! "

"Rips to be sure they are," said an old friend of his
father and uncle, who stepped out of the crowd at the
moment, just in time to hear the remark, "yet I have bid
seventeen pounds for one of them, a very useful-looking
pony. But let me shake you all by the hand. Raby,
glad to see you. Lads, who would have thought of seeing
you in London ? — on your road to Eton, I suppose ; ana
how did you leave them all at the Abbey ? — not coming
to town this season, I fear."

"But, Mr. Verner," said Frank, interrupting him,
" why don't you buy the ' useful -looking pony ?' he must
be cheap at that money, and I hear Tattersall now cry-
ing out — 'Going at eighteen pounds.'" "Well, Frank,"
replied Mr. Verner, " to oblige you, I'll go another pound ;
you would like to have to say, when you write home,
that you saw me buy a horse at Tattersall's : " so catching
the auctioneer's eye, and tipping him a wink, down went

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 75

the hammer, with — " For you, Mr. Verner, I believe ; "
followed by a nod of assent from his customer.

Now, were it not for the well-known rapidity with
which the Messrs. Tattersall dispose of the commencement
of their sales, to make way for more business-like pro-
ceedings, it might be difficult to reconcile, or account for
the following fact, though fact it surely be.

" Pray, sir," said a countrified-looking man to Mr.
Verner, in about ten minutes after his purchase had been
made, and as all the party were on the road to the large
stable, to which they supposed the " useful- looking pony "
was returned till claimed — " have ye got a mon here to
take away the cow, or must she 'bide where she is
to-night ? " " The cow ! " exclaimed Mr. Verner, " what
cow ? "

" Why," resumed the countryman, " the nice black
Aklerney Mr. Tattersall knocked down to ye for eighteen
pounds ; a better creature for milk never had a pail put
under her."

The case was exactly this : " the useful-looking pony "
had been disposed of during the salutation between Mr.
Verner and his friends, and the Alderney cow had been
the next lot brought up. She was going for seventeen
pounds, but for the exchange of the wink and the nod
just in the nick of time, which consigned her to the
possession of Mr. Verner.

The evening preceding the day on which the young
Rabys were to repair to Eton, his uncle was addressed
by Francis with — " By what coach do we go to Eton, to-
morrow, uncle ? "

" By the Windsor and Eton ' True Blue,' of course ; it
will put you down at your dame's door. But what makes
you ask the question ] "

"Why," resumed Frank, " Sir John Inkleton particularly
wished us to go by the Birmingham ' Prince of Wales '
coach, which would put us down at Slough, where it
changes horses, and we should only have a mile to walk.11

" But your luggage," observed Mr. Raby, " what is to
become of that ? "

" Oh ! " continued Frank, " Sir John said that old
Baldwin, who keeps the 'Crown' at Slough, on our
mentioning his name to him, would send our luggage to
Eton in a cart."

There must be some motive for all this, thought the

76 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

uncle ; something more than meets the ear. " Come, tell
me at once, Francis, what is the reason for your wishing
to go by that Birmingham coach ? "

" Why, to tell you the truth, uncle," answered Francis,
" Sir John told me I should see the famous Jack Bailey,
who drives it, and who taught him to drive four horses,
when he was at Eton."

"Well, Frank," continued the uncle, "I see no great
harm in this request of yours ; but, as Sir John was an
Etonian himself, did he recommend nothing to your
notice that might be more serviceable to you than a
Birmingham coachman ? "

" He didn't say much about anything else," replied
Frank, " except that, when I got old enough, and wanted
a good horse or a tandem, on a whole holiday, he would
write a line to recommend me to Stevens, who used to let
him have some good ones."

" Black Monday " having at length arrived, Frank and
his brother were placed on the front roof seat of the
" Prince of Wales " coach, the footman having been
despatched by the Windsor and Eton " True Blue " with
the luggage.

On descending from the coach, at Slough, Frank having
slipped half a crown into Jack Bailey's hands, over and
above what his brother had given him when he paid the
fare, shortly arrived at his "agreeable seat in Bucks," as
he used afterwards to call Eton school, where their tutor
having soon found that his elder pupil had looked into
Ovid and Virgil, and had not looked into them in vain,
recommended his being placed in the middle remove of
the fourth form, and then proceeded to examine the
pretensions of our hero. Finding him all but innocent of
the Greek tongue, his location was soon determined upon.
On his informing his tutor, however, that he had begun
making nonsense verses, a page of " Caesar's Com-
mentaries" was put before him, when he set to work
much in the same manner that the young aspirant in
anatomy does, when he anticipates phlebotomizing, by
opening the veins of full-grown cabbages.

There is not, perhaps, in the whole course of man's life,
a more remarkable change than the removal of the child
from the luxury and freedom of a wealthy home, to the
frugal diet and strict subordination of a public school :
from the tenderness of parents, and the obsequiousness of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 77

servants, to the rude and boisterous familiarity of equals,
the tyranny of seniors, and, too often, the rod of a cruel
and capricious pedagogue. These hardships, however,
are beneficial : if they do not absolutely steel the mind
and body against the assaults of fortune, they turn to a
good account. They produce an equilibrium in a large
body of youths, of various pedigrees, distinctions, and
expectations, and prevent the assumption of those
imaginary perfections which swell the hearts of men,
and still more of boys, to the great annoyance of their
associates. Nevertheless, the best nature does not yield
to chastening and buffeting without some degree of im-
patience ; and it is to be feared that the sufferings of the
generality of boys, at very large schools, in the lower
classes of it especially, are greater than commonly im-
agined. At all events, the first week at Eton is a serious
trial to the nerves of a slay or home-sick boy ; a thousand
questions are asked, some of them rather difficult to be
answered ; answered they must be, or a slap in the face is
the consequence. The Rabys, however, made their way
among the crowd, and partly for these reasons : — Their
name was known as aristocratic, and they were called
" devilish good-looking fellows ; " — Francis, especially,
who had a certain " knowing look " about him, accord-
ing to the language of those days, which soon made an
impression : as did also the knowledge of his father being
a master of hounds, and of his having brought letters of
introduction to Stevens and Jack Bailey from the well-
known Sir John Inkleton, who was considered an orna-
ment to Eton school. Still, all this did not serve him as
an indemnity from some of the tricks commonly played
off on new-comers in these licentious days.

It was the saying of a Spartan king, that — " Boys should
be introduced to the arts which will be useful to them
when they become men." Independently of the business
of the school, this maxim has always been acted upon
at Eton, in the various popular pastimes. Amongst the
foremost of these is the management of the boat, which
soon became a favourite one of our hero, whose sculling
was excelled by none at the expiration of his third year.
He was likewise good at cricket, quoits, backsword play-
ing, and other manly games ; and above all at football,
inasmuch as few could beat him at kicking shins.
Andrew was always a good cricketer; and by his mild,

78 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

unassuming manners, together with the reputation he
acquired as a scholar, he soon became as popular as his
brother in the society in which he moved.

It is not my intention to follow the Rabys through all
the grades of the school : it is sufficient to say that they
both reached the fifth form with credit to themselves, as
well as to those who instructed them, and proceeded, in
due time, to Christchurch College, Oxford, although with
somewhat different views ; a first-class degree being the
grand object with Andrew ; a forward place with the
foxhounds, the principal desideratum of Francis — the
honour of being considered a good fellow in the college,
and over the mahogany, standing next on his list of what
he considered accomplishments.

CHAPTER V

Christmas at the seat of " a fine old English gentleman," with its
appropriate accompaniments — good company, good cheer, and
good sport.

THE month of December, despite of frost and snow, is a
cheerful month in the house of a country gentleman
whose means are large, and consequently Christmas and
its festivities were well kept up at the Abbey. Even
customs of monkish introduction were observed, and the
interior of the mansion was decorated with holly branches,
from the fine mirrors in the saloons, to the stewpans and
crockery in the kitchen. Neither was the mistletoe for-
gotten, under the magic shade of which not a female in
the establishment, from the governess to the kitchen-maid,
escaped the usual and generally repeated salutation of
Frank Raby in this season of licence and conviviality, his
brother Andrew taking a part in the scene, but selecting a
chosen few.

Ale had been brewed for the occasion, and there was
little limit to the drawing of it, short of actual abuse ; it
being the wish of Mr. Raby that the hearts of his depen-
dents should be gladdened, in proportion to his means of
gladdening them, at this festive season.

It is now a commonplace observation, " How little
remains that poverty and innocence can partake of ; " and

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 79

we have legislators who, if they could, would make that
little less ; but, happily for the people, such was not the
case in the times to which I allude. The dance round the
maypole, on May-day, or on the village green, at Whitsun-
tide,— the harvest-home supper, the bonfires of November,
and the good cheer of Christmas, were looked for and
enjoyed as surely as the seasons arrived, and the contribu-
tions? to these indulgences, from all the family at the
Abbey, were at all times liberal.

The sirloins of beef, the mince-pies, and plum-puddings,
the wine and ale, eaten and drunk under its roof, were in
perfect keeping with its baronial exterior ; and jthe cloth-
ing and fuel, furnished to the neighbouring poor under
the management of Lady Charlotte Raby, were still more
abundant.

The meeting between Frank Raby and his father's
huntsman was truly characteristic of both. It is not
my intention, here, however, to give a second edition of
Frank's appearance with his father's harriers in the field ;
although he was complimented, by the huntsman, on the
improvement in his liand and nerve, and the judicious
remarks he made on some of the leading hounds ; but we
will proceed at once to his debut with the foxhounds.

The morning was cloudy and still, looking like a hunt-
ing morning, and the family had all assembled in the
breakfast-room, when Sir John made his appearance, the
Abbey being only a mile or two out of the road that led
to the appointed cover. " Well, Inkleton," said Mr. Raby,
after the usual salutations had passed, and pointing to his
son Francis, who was clad in a green hunting-coat, and
a pair of leather breeches made expressly for the pur-
pose, " here is the happiest fellow, this day, in our own
county, and, very probably, in the next to it. Andrew
says, he has not closed his eyes since three o'clock this
morning, praying heartily for daylight. I am sorry
I cannot accompany you to the field, as I must attend
the bench to-day, but I have ordered Dick, the hunts-
man, to do so, and take the young fox-hunter under his
care."

"There is' no necessity for that," replied Sir John ;
" one of my hunters having been amiss, is much in want
of work, and I have ordered Preston to be at the cover,
and he will do all that is required, in piloting Frank ; and
you know old Preston is to be depended on."

8o

" When the hounds find ? " exclaimed Lady Charlotte,
with some expression of doubt on her countenance.

" As steady as old Time, I assure you, Lady Charlotte,"
replied Sir John ; " besides, he is a perfect old woman
across a country, and has too great a regard for his own
neck, to run any risks of breaking Frank's."

Breakfast concluded, Frank having fed no better than
he slept, Sir John's cover-hack was announced as being at
the door, and he and his happy companion set forward on
their road to Bransford-wooa ; and thus they discoursed
on their way : —

" Well, Frank," said Sir John, " how did you get on at
Eton? I heard of your performances on the 'Balloon'
coach. Mitchell also wrote me word that Jack Bailey
speaks well of you."

" Oh, Eton's well enough out of school hours, Sir John,"
replied Frank ; " lots of fun going on then. I liked
Stevens very much indeed ; he never refused me a
tandem, and he ticked me for a terrier at once, the best
you ever saw ; he has drawn three badgers, and killed
three cats, since I have had him. I only gave two
guineas for him, and I have brought him down to have a
breed between Myrtle and him. But everybody seems to
like Jack Bailey ; I have had several lessons of him."

" That's right," said Sir John ; " there's nothing like
being well ' nitiated ' in road-work ; and pray what was
your favourite road, when you went out in Stevens's
tandem ? "

"Oh," replied Frank, "sometimes one, sometimes
another ; but I'll tell you a good story about what
happened a fortnight back. Two fifth-form fellows went
in a tandem to Egham, and dined at the ' Running Horse.'
They drank too much wine, and, by taking a wrong turn,
lost themselves in Windsor Great Park. Seeing a finger-
post, however, the one that was not driving got out of the
gig to read it, when, after a pause — for I suppose he could
not see very clearly — he called out, ' H for Windsor ; all
right, go along, Bob ! ' They came too late for absence,
and got a devil of a flogging the next day ; but ' H for
Windsor ; (jo along, Bob ! ' has been a kind of watchword at
Eton ever since."

" Capital ! " exclaimed Sir John. " I remember a joke,
when I was there, which will never be forgotten. The
fellows had all red coats made purposely for the Montem ;

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 81

lid when they had to pass in procession before old
eorge III., a "lad named Ripston appeared in one big
lough for a full-grown man, with skirts down to his
'eels, and great silver buttons, with a fox running
Waved upon them. Old Heath was outrageous, and
died him up to him, which being observed by 'Old
tobbs,' as we called the king, he asked the Doctor who
le boy was? On hearing the name, his Majesty good-
umouredly exclaimed, ' Oh, Doctor, leave him alone ; /
now his breed.' The fact was, he was the son of a
orting baronet, a master of foxhounds, and he had had
'he coat made large enough to fit an old huntsman of his
ather's, then past work. But here are the hounds ; we
re just in time ; and, by the number of horses at the
over-side, it appears as if we should have a large field.
[fan and old Preston must take care you are not ridden
l)ver at the start. And there is the master of the pack,
bless him ! a better sportsman never cheered hound ;
'md when you come to know what foxhounds are, you
Will say he knows how to breed them. In fact, taking
them for size and shape, there is not such a pack, this
day, in England ; and if we live long enough, we shall
hear of their blood in every kennel in the land. But,
Frank, let me have a word or two with you before we get
to the cover. We are sure to find a fox, and, there is
reason to believe, a good one ; I shall, therefore, tell
Preston what to do with you. If he goes down wind when
first he breaks, his point will be Blackthorns. In this
case, I shall tell Preston that, if he takes you down the
turnpike-road about 200 yards, and then turns short to
the left, he will find a line of gates, that will lead you
straight to the wood, where, probably, he may hang a
little. Should he go up wind, Roystone will be his point,
a very stiff country to begin with, and the Stark brook, to
a certainty. Preston will here make for either the mill,
to the left, or the bridge at Elwel, to the right ; for you
must not have the Stark, if you mean to return alive to
the Abbey : it is wide and deep, and the banks are very
soft. However, you will be in good company, for not
more than one in ten of the field will have the Stark at
all."

The greeting between Sir John and the master of the

Sack was, as usual, kind and cheering. " Glad to see you,
ir John," said the master, "you always bring us luck."
6

82 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" Glad to hear you say so," replied the baronet ; " we
certainly have had a succession of fine runs lately, thanks
to your excellent hounds, and the way in which they are
hunted. But I have brought you something more to-
day ; I have brought you a young sportsman, of no small
promise, who has the good taste, even at his early age, to
prefer foxhounds to harriers. I hope we shall enter him
well to-day to a good run, and blood him at the end of it."

" Glad to see you, sir," said Mr. Warde (for of him and
his hounds have I been speaking, and who was then in
the zenith of his glory, and hunting one of the many
countries which he hunted in his time) ; " although your
father is no fox-hunter, I have a great regard for him as a
conspicuous sportsman in his line, and a staunch preserver
of foxes ; and it was only last night that we drank his
health in that honourable capacity. You have a clever
little mare under you, and I hope we shall find out,
before night, whether your father's old oats are as good as
his new were. I was entered to hounds before I was your
age, and I mean to stick to them as long as I can sit in my
saddle. Xow, Bob," 1 to the huntsman, " throw your
darlings into cover ; and," addressing himself to Frank
Raby, "mind this, young gentleman — if you hear a
hound speak in the cover, you may bet all the money you
like that it is to a fox. Every tonyiie is a fox with my
hounds, as I suppose every tongue is a hare with Mr.
Raby's harriers."

Scarcely had the pack spread themselves, right and left,
in the wood, than Samson was observed lashing his sides
with his stern, and Champion rushed through the strong
brushwood to join noses, as much as to say, has the villain
been this road in the night ? " Have at him, Samson," said
Mr. Warde ; " look about you, Bob, we shall find him in
five minutes." " And Champion, also, says so," returned
the huntsman, " and he never told a lie in his life."

But the " villain " did not wait to be found. The drag
grew warmer and warmer as the hounds drew onward,
and the deep tones of such of them as were equal to
owning a scent at least eight hours old, being audible
down wind, even in the deep recesses of the cover, away
went as fine a dog-fox as ever wore a brush, and then the
scene became glorious. The crash, when the body of the
pack got together ; the shouting of the foot people in the
1 Robert Forfeit, who then hunted Mr. Warde's hounds.

83

rides ; the blasts of the horns ; and the hallooing of the
horsemen — some eager to assist in getting the hounds to
their game, others mad to get a start ; — all this had a
thrilling effect on our young sportsman ; but there was
no time for looking about ; the hounds were on good
terms with their fox— their heads up, and their sterns
down — and a fine grass country before them.

The fence out of the wood was an awkward one ; it was
a low, but stiff gate, which, of itself, would have been
nothing ; but an open drain, under repair, was in front of
it, on the rising side, which made the rider and his horse
look about them. Sir John led the way, followed by
three more, when Frank cleared it, with a good yard to
spare, sticking to his horse as tightly as if he had been
strapped to his saddle ; and this was, without doubt,
the happiest moment of his existence. He had taken a
dangerous leap, which several of the field declined ; he
saw a fine country before him, with his friend in the same
field with the hounds, and only one field in advance of
himself :— " I'll go till I fall," said he to himself, and
strictly did he keep his word. Fence after fence was
cleared by him, in the company of a chosen few ; but, as
yet, he had not been observed by Sir John Inkleton. An
accidental occurrence discovered him. The fence exactly
in Sir John's line being impracticable from its height and
strength, he was obliged to diverge to his right, to one
corner of the field, where the generality of fences are
practicable ; when, sailing away on the headland, he
espied Frank Eaby approaching. There was no time for
words, the chase being forward at the moment, and some
lost time to be made up ; so putting Petronius at some
rails, he was landed in the next field, with the hounds in
the one beyond it. When in the act of clearing these
rails, however, he saw under him a ditch, of enormous
depth and breadth, and, fearing that Frank's mare might
not be equal to it, he waved his hand to him, as a signal
not to attempt it. The signal was made in vain ; Frank
rode at it, and cleared it, with only the momentary loss
of a stirrup. Sir John began to feel alarm. "What
will Mr. Eaby — what will Lady Charlotte say to me,;:
muttered he to himself, " if this boy meets with an
accident ? Still, what is to be done ? I cannot lose my
place with the hounds ; and I doubt whether anything I
may say to him will stop him.'"'

84 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Onward they went, over a very deep vale, with a breast-
high scent, taking fences high and stiff, and many of the
field shaken off. At length they approached the Stark,
according to Sir John's prediction ; and it was apparent
to those who knew the country for some time before they
came close to it, by the large willow trees on its banks,
whose nourishing condition showed that they were luxuriat-
ing in the soil which best suits them — a black bog.

" Now what is to be done here ? " said Sir John, once
more, to himself ; and he had the lead of the field at the time.
" / will have it just where yonder blackthorn-bush is grow-
ing on the bank, and that is sure to be the soundest part,
in my view ; but Frank will not be up to that trick. I'll
wave my hand to him, not to attempt it. " DON'T COME,
DON'T COME ! " roared the baronet ; " you'll be in if you
do " ; and Frank was not out of hearing at the time ; but
he might as well have made such a request to the waves
at the flood of a spring-tide, and at it he gallantly went.
The trick of the blackthorn-bush, however, was beyond
Frank's experience in the art of riding to hounds ; so
putting his mare to the left of it, where the ground was
rotten and tender, she fell on her head, on alighting —
although she cleared the water — and gave him an easy fall.

" Bravo, by the heavens ! " exclaimed Sir John ; " he is
up again, and no harm done ; what a rider will that lad
make ! "

In the next field but three, the hounds came to a check,
when an dclaircissemeni took place.

"Why, Frank," said the baronet, "you are a very
pretty fellow ; what have you done with old Preston, on
Skylark 1 "

" Oh," replied Frank, " I have not seen him since the
hounds left the wood. I saw you turn down the left-hand
riding, and, as I thought I heard the hounds turn that
way too, I followed you."

"But, Frank," inquired Sir John earnestly, "are you
sure you are not hurt, for you got a devil of a roll at the
Stark ? "

" Not a bit," answered Frank ; " it was not the mare's
fault, for she cleared the water well."

"Yes, Frank," continued Sir John, "she fell from the
want of a little more support than you could give her
when she landed in that soft ground, almost a bog. But,
upon my word, you must not ride yet at such places as

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 85

you have in this run, or you will break your neck some
day. And the new leathers, what a pickle they are in,
and how they will tell tales when you get home ! Lady

Charlotte will " " Oh ! " exclaimed Frank, " they will

know nothing about it ; they shall not see me till I am
dressed for dinner."

At this moment the hounds hit off their fox, and went
on, but not at best pace. In fact, they were brought to
slow hunting, at which Mr. Warde's hounds ever have
been so conspicuous ; and the attention of Frank was
riveted to them.

At the end of an hour and thirty- five minutes, the
scent mending towards the finish, and the hounds running
from scent to view, the fox was in Bob Forfeit's hand, and
his brush given to Frank Raby by Mr. Warde himself,
who was delighted at the sight of so promising a young
sportsman in his country ; indeed, he honoured him with
peculiar notice.

Sir John being engaged to dine that day at the Abbey,
Frank and himself proceeded homeward together, but not
a word could be heard of " old Preston," nor, indeed, of a
good many more of the field, who had been stopped by
the Stark brook.

In the course of the evening, the health of Mr. Warde
being drunk, himself and his hounds became the topics of
conversation ; and thus did Sir John Inkleton speak of
them : —

"It may be presumptuous, perhaps, in me," said this
sporting and gentlemanlike young baronet, "to give a
decided opinion of a pack of foxhounds, it being evident
that my experience has been chiefly confined to those I
hunted with when at Oxford, and very good they were.
Still, there is something in the character of Warde's
hounds which strikes the eye, and fixes the attention of
even a common and inexperienced observer, previously to
seeing them at work, as being animals superior of their
kind, as respects shape and power. Their style of hunting
is equal to their high form ; and as you masters of
harriers," addressing himself here to Mr. Raby, "pride
yourselves on overcoming difficulties in chase, and hunting
your game to death, under the most unfavourable circum-
stances, I wish you had been with us to-day. There were
many obstacles in our way : — First, the scent was ex-
cellent in the burst, because the fox ran straight, and

86 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

he had not too much the start of us. Secondly, the
country was excellent, until after we crossed the Stark,
when a change of soil occurred, which is much against
hounds in chase. Thirdly, we were twice brought to
check by sheep, which, having a good fox on foot, threw
us again behind. Then, to crown all, we had rather an
unusual occurrence in that country — four fallows to cross
in succession, which required the most patient hunting to
enable us to hold on.

" The finish, however, was a glorious one. Bothered by
the thirty-five minutes' burst, and a good hour's close
hunting afterwards, the fox tried the earths at Haindeu
Wood, and finding them shut, laid himself down in the
cover, and broke before the pack in view, having been
beautifully hunted to his point. In the space of thirteen
minutes, as fast as foot could fall, we turned him up in
the open, as your son Frank can attest."

Here Mr. Raby looked at his son, evidently with feelings
of satisfaction, but deemed it prudent not to hazard a
word ; and Sir John proceeded with his remarks.

" Then look at Mr. Warde himself. Putting the sports-
man out of the question, what a true specimen he is of the
old English gentleman. How amusing is his conversation ;
how playful his wit ; how manly his exterior ; and yet,
how polished are his manners when in contact with
polished society ! How unfortunate it is that he is so
heavy ; for horses can scarcely be found to carry him well
up to his hounds, over this very deep country."

" Was Henry Warde out to-day 1 " inquired Mr. Raby.

" He was," replied Sir John ; " he rode his famous
horse, Star, for which, although a roarer, he has refused
the immense price of 600 guineas. It is the only instance,
I believe, on record, of a horse, with that defect, being
esteemed so valuable as a hunter."

" I conclude," continued Mr. Raby, " that you often
visit the headquarters of Mr. Warde's hunt ? "

" Why," answered Sir John, " they lie rather wide of
me ; but 1 am occasionally indiiced to do so by the
pleasant society I meet with. Then, again, wherever
John Warde is, there is sure to be mirth and fun, and
the living is very good at the club. Indeed, he told me
this morning, in his usual droll style, that 'everything
there was very good but the reckoning.' "

"Ah! ah'1." observed Mr. Raby, "that is John Warde

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 87

to a T ; there is a gaiety of heart and lightness of spirit
about him, which I have never found to the same extent
in any other man ; and it adds much to his popularity,
that he has a joke ready at hand for everyone. But it is
not the reckoning at a hunting-club that can hurt either
"Warde or you. I do not know a better manager than he
is ; and as for yourself, Inkleton, if you steer clear of
that accursed vice, gambling, you have enough for your
enjoyment of all the fun this world can afford you.
Neither your hunting, nor your coaching, nor your house-
keeping, good as it is, can hurt you. You will, I am sure,
pardon this remark from a man much older than yourself,
and one who entertains for you a sincere regard, not only
on your own account, but as the son of a valued friend."

"Xo fear," replied Sir John ; "I never lost £100 at
any game in my life ; and as I know not one of my friends
or acquaintance that is a gainer, but many who are losers
by gambling, I mean to steer clear of it. In fact, I
detest your professed gamesters ; their hearts are as hard
as stones, and as cold too ; and they would rob their own
brothers if they could."

On the following morning, Sir John took his departure
from the Abbey, but not without having obtained a
promise from Frank, to visit him before he went to
Oxford.

CHAPTER VI

College life, with some sketches of men and manners at Oxford, in
the latter part of the last century — Bibury Meeting in its
palmy days.

HAVING assumed the manly gown, we now find the
young Rabys at the University of Oxford — cele-
brated for making gentlemen as well as scholars ; one of
the two great luminaries of the intellectual world ; and,
despite of the cavils against it, one of the brightest jewels
in the British Crown. We find them occupying handsome
rooms in Peckwater, gentlemen-commoners on the books,
and with an allowance of £600 per annum to each for
their expenses, it being the wish of their father, and also
of their uncle, who contributed towards it, that they
should not only make a respectable figure in the

88 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

University, but that they should have no cause for having
demands upon them when they left it. Their establish-
ments were suitable to their means. Andrew contented
himself with two saddle - horses, passing under the
denomination of hacks, and consigned to the care of
Seckham, the livery-stable keeper, reserving the entire
use of his servant for his own personal wants ; whereas
Frank had his two hunters and his hack in a private
stable of his own, and looked after by an experienced
man, who had been brought up, under Spencer, in the
hunting stables at the Abbey.

And now let me introduce to the reader my hero's
college friend, Hargrave. He was the son of a London
merchant, educated at Rugby, and therefore totally un-
known to Frank Eaby previously to their meeting at
Christchurch. But they were kindred spirits, and,
according with the vulgar phrase, "soon took to each
other." And there was some similarity in their per-
sonal appearance, at least in their personal character.
So far from there being anything of the Androgynes
about them — the term dandy was unknown in those days,
and it would be well that it had never been called into
use : they were plain and rather peculiar in their dress,
somewhat approaching to the contrary extreme, with the
exception of not losing sight of cleanliness, and what is
called neatness in their dress and appointments. In fact,
their appearance was gentlemanlike and sportsmanlike at
the same time — not an everyday combination at that
period ; and before the end of the second term they were
pointed at, when together in the streets, as the two
best horsemen in the University. Hargrave's stud con-
sisted but of two thoroughly accomplished hunters ; and,
like Frank Raby, he had them, under his own lock and
key, in one of the quietest lanes in the town. Moreover,
his judgment was considered so good in everything relating
to hunting, as well as in the management of his horses,
that he was generally appealed to as an authority on all
disputed points amongst the Nimrods of the University —
at all events, amongst those with whom he was in any way
associated.

And how happened it that Hargrave, the son of a
London merchant, should have become so accomplished
in field sports — for he was an excellent shot, as well as
initiated to the noble science of the chase 1 The question

89

is easily replied to. His father, who was himself a
sportsman, had a seat and estate in Essex, and had entered
him when young to hounds, and to those of one of the
best and most zealous sportsmen of his own or any other
days — the renowned Mr. Charles Newman. Again, the
country hunted by him was one likely to make a man
both a sportsman and a horseman, being full of large
covers, very strongly fenced, and noted for the stoutness
of its foxes. At an early age, however, few went better
over it than young Hargrave did, on a small thorough-bred
horse, which went by the name of The Phenomenon ; and
he was looked upon in the neighbourhood as likely to
shine, at some future period, in a better country than
Essex, although famous for the stoutness of its foxes.

From what has been said of Hargrave, it is scarcely
necessary to state that he was acquainted with all the sport-
ing characters, noble and ignoble, Oxford then could boast
of, and that, by virtue of his seniority in the University,
he had the honour of introducing them to Frank Raby.
Amongst these was a very celebrated character whose
name was Will Stuart, and of whom a short notice must
be taken. He was, in the first place, one of the hand-
somest fellows in the country ; of robust form withal ;
and declared by himself, and very generally believed, to
be descended somehow from the royal house of Stuart.
But his occupations could scarcely be called royal — at all
events, not in the modern acceptation of that word. He
was a deer-stealer, a dog-stealer, a pond-robber, and a
poacher in all ways, from a pheasant to a jack-snipe ; in
tact, he would accommodate his employers in any way,
provided they paid him well. But Stuart's forte lay in the
difficult art of persuasion, of which the following is one
rather remarkable example : —

" Won't you buy this capital dog of me ? " said he to a
young man who told him he considered him too dear by
at least two guineas.

" Not at that price," replied the young man.

" Then," resumed Billy, "you consider two guineas an
object when the ' maximum of excellence ' is to be obtained,
as you gentlemen calls it. Now, when you comes to take
your degree, I'll tell you what they'll say to you : they'll
tell you, that a little more studying would have put you in
the first class ; but for want of that little, you'll be no-
where." And so it turned out.

go THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Amongst the ignoble sciences patronised by Stuart, and
in which he much desired to have initiated Frank Raby,
was the very ignoble one of dog-fighting. Ignoble as it is,
however, our hero wished to witness it, and was conducted
to the pit by Stuart, the owner of one of the dogs, who
had been the victor in several battles, and had only been
beaten once. His competitor was also a formidable one,
weighing thirty-six pounds, which was two pounds less
than Stuart's, and, as such, inferior to him in one respect.
His game, however, was notorious, and it was only
shillings for choice — in other words, guineas to pounds —
between the two.

I shall not disgust my readers with a description of the
contest between two noble animals, whose services were
intended for far better purposes. Let it suffice to say
that, as it was the first, so it was the last exhibition of
this sort that Frank Raby witnessed, and still he did
not regret having witnessed it. Exclusive of the courage
displayed by the dogs, during a contest of upwards of
half an hour, the means taken by their handlers to in-
crease that courage excited his astonishment, if it did not
produce pleasure. There is no necessity for recapitulating
them ; but it appeared that one index to the probable
result of the fight was the position of the animal's tail.
If erect, he was still undaunted : if inclined to droop, his
pluck was doubted, and the betting immediately turned
against him. The position of the tail, however, is the
general barometer of the dog's mettle. Witness Shak-
speare at a bear-fight : —

"Oft have I seen a hot, o'erweening cur,
Run back and bite, because he was withheld ;
Who, having suffered with the bear's fell paw,
Hath clapt his tail between his legs, and cried.''

There was another species of sporting, and one very
much in fashion in those days, in which Frank Raby was
initiated by Will Stuart — the aristocratic one of cock-
fighting ; and aristocratic it may certainly be called,
confirming the truth of the assertion that, although the
vulgar borrow vices from the great, the great occasionally
condescend to borrow them, in their turn, from the
vulgar. It must, however, be admitted that, in point of
respectability — if such a term can be allowed in this case —
there is scarcely a comparison between the operations of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN gr

the cock and the dog-pit, the former having been long the
resort of many of our accomplished noblemen and country
gentlemen, still standing its ground to a certain extent,
whilst the latter is nearly abandoned. "Whether it may
last another century is a matter of some speculation, from
the alternations which occur in the taste for all national
sport ; but that it has stood the test of ages is a fact too
well established to admit of a doubt, as well as that a moral
has been drawn from it. Themistocles's famous address
to the Athenian soldiers affords one, and a signal one, too.
On their march to battle he halted them, and directed
their attention to two cocks that were fighting, descanting
on their determination to conquer or die ; and ordered
cock-fighting to be afterwards annually exhibited in the
camp. The Romans likewise admired the martial spirit
of the gamecock ; and it is even asserted that Caesar's
troops introduced cock-fighting in England, during their
temporary invasion of the country, and that they even
made quails to fight. Still, Columella calls it a Grecian
diversion, and speaks of it in terms of ignominy, as an
expensive amusement (which it is), unbecoming the frugal
housekeeper, and often attended with the ruin of the
parties who follow it. The most offensive part of thi?
practice, however, is now fortunately done away with — I
mean the " Welsh main," as it is called, which consisted in
causing thirty-one of thirty-two cocks to be slaughtered,
before the surviving one was to be proclaimed the victor !

Although Frank Raby had seen some few exhibitions of
fighting-cocks in his father's neighbourhood, and at Eton,
he had never seen what is called "a main" fought ; but
having a wish to see one, he accompanied his friend
Hargrave to the Oxford cockpit, and was introduced by
him to the celebrated Bob Dolly, who was at that time
the proprietor of it. The particulars of this main need
not be given ; but, at the expiration of it, the following con-
versation took place between the two young sportsmen : —

" Well, Frank," said Hargrave (for Frank was he always
called by his intimates), " what do you think of cock-
tighting, now that you have seen it nearlv in its best
form 1 "

" Why," replied Frank, " I have scarcely made up my
mind sufficiently on the subject, to give you a decided
answer. I am, however, prepared to say that although I
cannot go the length that you do, when you say, you look

92 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

upon two cocks, in the arena of a pit, in the light of two
champions of olden times, who rush to the charge for glory
only, and imagine that, in the shrill and animating note of
their crowing, you hear the herald's clarion, still, I consider
the first 'setting to,' as it is called, of two highly-bred
gamecocks, one of the most interesting sights that animated
nature can exhibit. Their determined courage throughout
the battle, and their invincible spirit, to conquer or die,
are something more than natural, and seem to justify the
absurd notions entertained by the ancients of these birds,
not only in calling them sacred to the sun, but making
them to participate of a certain solar divinity, and to be
thus feared — at all events, reverenced — even by the lion.
But look at the cock in his natural state — a state of
freedom. What a beautiful animal he is ! What a
pattern of a warrior, a husband, and a fine gentleman !
See him clap his wings and crow ; how proud of his
courage does he appear ; how gallant he is to his females ;
how jealous of a rival ; and how he is formed for con-
tending with him, for he is all muscle and bone ! Then
observe what language he has at his command ! If he
finds food, he calls a favourite female to partake of it ; if
a danger appears, he bids his family beware ; and he has
his amorous phrases as well as his terms of defiance and of
battle. But his crowing — why, he may be said to invoke
the sun ; indeed, Shakspeare calls him ' the trumpet to
the morn ' ; and many other poets have borrowed their
images from him —

' The crested cock whose clarion sounds the silent hours ; '

amongst the most beautiful of them, as ' the 'larum of the
country labourer.' "

"Well said, Frank Raby," exclaimed Hargrave ; " upon
my soul you would make a good Methodist preacher, but I
much doubt your ever becoming a cocker."

" I don't know what to say on that point yet," replied
Frank. " There is much to admire in a battle, and still
more in the system throughout ; but I feel that there is
something both disgusting and cruel in a long-protracted
battle, however indicative it may be of the invincible
courage of the animal, and however productive of a moral,
as Mr. Wyndham and others have considered it to be.
But as you are such an advocate for cock-fighting, let me
hear what you have to say in defence of it."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 93

" Why, to tell you the truth," returned Hargrave, " I
think that, next to finding a fox, the excitement produced
at the onset of a battle between cocks, exceeds any that I
have hitherto experienced. I, therefore, must say I am
very partial to cock-fighting as a sport or pastime. But I
cannot help looking at it in another light. It appears to
me that, from the very extraordinary circumstances and
facts developed in pursuance of the whole system — from
the breeding the birds, to bringing them to the pit to
fight, as well as their conduct in the fight — it must have
been intended to excite the curiosity, and promote the
researches of man in the wonderful operations of nature ;
if not, in this individual instance, to serve as an example
to be imitated in certain situations in life. For instance,
consider the form of what we so properly call the game-
cock : he is not only, as you have described him, composed
of little else but muscle and bone ; but, looking at his
ruddy complexion, his full breast, his lofty neck, the
strength of the beam of his leg, and length of his thigh,
his large quick eye, and strong beak — crooked and big at
its setting on — and his murderous spurs, it is evident that
he was intended to fight. But why so ? — why should he be
armed with such murderous weapons, and endowed with
such formidable strength and courage, merely to protect
himself, or his own race, from others of his own race ? There
can be no reason at all for this in an animal which it is evi-
dent was designed to be domesticated. The fact is, he is born
a fighter, and absolutely begins to spur at an adversary soon
after he leaves the egg ; at all events, before his spurs are
grown. Putting him to fight, then, is not having recourse
to a force against nature, but an evident indulgence of his
natural propensity, for there can be no offence given to
him by the bird pitted against him, which he has never
seen till taken out of his bag. This is also proved by the
well-known fact, that cocks at their walks, and at full
liberty, will seek each other for battle as far as they can
hear each other's crowing. In fact, there appears to be
in them an insatiable thirst to destroy each other, which
does not appear in other parts of the creation. We hear
of carnivorous animals depopulating the places they
frequent of every other inhabitant, but there is no instance,
except in the cock, of a desire to exterminate their own
species."

"Then you really believe it was intended that the

94 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

courage of these birds should be displayed to man as au
example 1 "

" I do."

" And in the method pursued in Bob Dolly's cockpit ? :;

" Ah, there you press me too hard now. I can only say
that, if they do fight at all, the arming them with artificial
weapons is the very reverse of cruelty, for the contest is
sooner ended, and their sufferings trilling in comparison
to what they would have been, had they fought with their
own natural weapons, by lacerating and bruising each
other in every tender part. And hence may be formed
a comparison between the duellist and the pugilist. The
duellist meets his adversary like the gamecock, voluntarily,
and with artificial weapons also ; whereas the pugilist is
urged to fight merely by a prospect of gain, and to fight
with natural weapons, receiving blows and bruises,
frequently to the very point of death, to amuse a
crowd of spectators. I am inclined, then, to think that,
after all, cock-fighting is one of the least cruel of all
our sports in which the lives of animals are put to the
risk. But it is not so much the mere act of fighting, and
the display of courage in the gamecock, that excite my
admiration : it is, as I said before, the entire system
throughout, and the wonderful phenomena that occur
in breeding and training these birds. We will commence
with the breeding, and the importance of similarity of
feather. Where is the philosopher who can discover this
necessity ? — but so it is. Several attempts were made,
some years back, to cross the Cheshire piles with piles
from other countries, and those of great note ; but, from
a trifling dissimilarity of feather, the breed was very
inferior to the original one. But even in the Cheshire
piles, the necessity arises of not mixing the dark and
light- coloured ones together. Then, again, the fidelity
with which uniformity of colour is preserved, is no less
astounding. A celebrated breeder of cocks thus writes
on this subject : — ' Fifteen years or more I had enjoyed
an invariable production of the most complete black-reds
bred by any amateur, without a single instance of devia-
tion during that period ; but, on the sixteenth year, I
had several light piles in one hatch . No change of eggs
could possibly have taken place, nor was there a shadow
of doubt of interference with any other cock. A well-
regulated account of my cocks, however, enabled me to

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 95

ascertain that there had been a pile in the cross five years
previous to my having them from Shropshire ; so that
they held highly regular for twenty -one years, not only in
plumage, but in every desired requisite.'

" It appears," continued Hargrave, "that, had this breeder
gone on in a deviation from the original colour, he would
have had spangles, as party-coloured fowls are called ; but,
by persevering afterwards in selecting the darkest-coloured
fowls, those in fact most resembling his original attachment,
or sort, he preserved not only their feather, but their con-
stitution, which is a great consideration with cockers. Xow
here we have an analogy between the florist and the cocker.
A run flower is one which has the inherent vice of chang-
ing colour, with little chance of regaining its primitive
and valuable brilliancy ; consequently it is discarded by
the florist, as spangled pullets would be by the cocker.

" There are, also, independent of feather, some strange
circumstances, arising from the selection of the parentage
of game fowls, and these of the very same breed, one, in
fact, which has been proved to be good in blood, feather,
and heel. For example : cocks bred from a father and
daughter have run away, whereas those from a mother
and son have stood to be killed by inches.

" Perhaps the best proof of the difficulties of training
cocks to fight, is to be found in the very few persons
who have excelled in this branch of their art. Who
would believe it possible that, although a feeder should
be able to get a pen of cocks fit to fight for two successive
days, he should not be able to have them fit to fight
on the third, and yet his competitor on the sod shall
be able to do so ? This, however, is a very common case.
In fact, the whole system of feeding cocks to fight,
reducing or increasing their weight, but still retaining the
highest pitch of condition and vigour, is one of consummate
art, and one with which that of training the race-horse
can bear no comparison as to the difficulty of it. Then,
again, what a true picture of life is a cockpit ! Depend
upon it, Frank Raby, you will never have seen human
nature fully and faithfully displayed in the rough, until
you shall have seen it in a cockpit, at such places as
Chester, Manchester — in short, anywhere bordering on
the north. Amongst noblemen and gentlemen of the
highest character and respectability, and who have made
cocking their pursuit through life, you will see men of

96 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

the coarsest exterior, and in the meanest garb, outwitting
them by odds in their judgment in selecting the winners
before the battles commence, and exhibiting indescribable
acuteuess in discovering injuries afterwards, which, of
course, they turn to account before many of their superiors
are aware of them. This extreme quickness of sight, by
which what is called a ' cut throat ' is discovered previously
to its effects becoming visible, is scarcely to be expected from
a heavy and dull-looking mechanic — perhaps a blacksmith,
or a collier, who may have walked fifty miles to the pit —
but such is often the case, and, of course, he reaps his
reward by immediately backing the other cock."

" What do you mean by a ' cut throat ? ' I never saw
a cock's throat cut in fighting."

" Xor I neither. It is a body blow, but, having wounded
a vital part, is so called from the fact of the blood soon
finding its way into the throat, and thence ejected by the
mouth, consequently impeding respiration. Cocks in very
h iyk condition will occasionally ' throw it off,' as the term
is, and go on ; but it generally betokens a speedy termina-
tion of the battle. The setting or handling of the cocks
is also a most difficult art ; in fact, I have no hesitation
in saying, that not only does a cockpit include more
natural talent, in the rough, than any other place in which
men of all descriptions are given to congregate, but that,
unless a man be a man of talent, he has no business to
enter one."

Frank listened attentively to this somewhat philosophical
description of cocking and the cockpitr and whether or not
he became a cocker will hereafter be shown. He, how-
ever, reminded Hargrave • that the late Mr. Wyndham —
then in the zenith of his reputation, as one of our dis-
tinguished senators, and distinguished also for his humanity
— had given it as his opinion that the conflict between
inferior animals incited the courage of a nation ; and,
in support of his hypothesis, availed himself of the
character of the English people, who, he said, have ever
been as remarkable for courage, or what is vulgarly called
" pluck," as for their predilection for such conflicts, cock-
fighting especially.

The first public exhibition of our hero, during his
residence at Christchurch, was on Burford race-course,
in Oxfordshire, on which was held what was called the
Bibury meeting, continued (though in very diminished

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 97

form) to the present time. But these were Bibury's very
best days. In addition to the encouragement given to it
by the patronage and presence of George IV., then Prince
of Wales, who was received by the Earl of Sherborne,
for the week, at his seat in the neighbourhood, and who
every day made his appearance on the course as a private
gentleman, on his favourite cropped roan hack, of which
he was as fond as the impetuous Hotspur of his " crop-ear
roan," which, in an equestrian transport, he called his
" throne," with merely a groom in attendance, and in
familiar conversation with all who had the privilege of
•addressing him, there was a galaxy of gentlemen jockeys,
who alone rode at this meeting, which has never since
.>een equalled. Amongst them were the present Duke
»f Dorset, who always rode for the Prince ; His Grace's
rother, the late Hon. George Germain ; the late Mr.
)elme Radcliffe— who had the management of His Royal
{ighness's racing stud, until his decease as George IV. ; —
lie late Lords Charles Somerset and Milsington, and
iord Delamere, then Mr. Cholmondeley ; Sir Tatton
iykes, then Mr. Sykes ; Messrs. Hawkes, Bullock, Worral,
jreorge Pigot, Lindow, Lowth, Musters, Probyn, &c., all
'rst-raters, and some of them in as constant practice as
iny of the regular jockeys. And a curious fact may here
je mentioned, and of which Frank Raby was a witness.
The Prince of Wales had a horse called Ploughater, by
Trumpeter, out of an Evergreen mare, and bred by Lord
Clermont, which was extremely difficult to ride, from
his hard pulling, and awkward position of his head in
his gallop. The Duke of Dorset, however, rode him in
several successful races, but at length broke a blood-
vessel by the exertion. Having lost a great quantity
of blood, His Grace did not appear on the course the
next day, but on the following one, to the surprise of
all persons who saw him, he not only appeared, but
insisted upon mounting Ploughater again, who had to
walk over the course for a Stakes.

There was something especially jockey-like in the
appearance of the Duke of Dorset, his brother Germain,
and Delme Radcliffe, not only when mounted on race-
horses, but when seen riding on the course, on their hacks,
often with their saddles buckled to their sides, after the
manner of the professional men. Indeed, it is much to
be doubted whether there was so much as two pounds in

7

98 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

weight difference between the performance of that trio,
as well as of Mr. Hawkes, and the best of the jockeys of
those days. Hawkes's forte was as much making play in
running, as in what is called a waiting race, by his excellent
judgment of pace. In fact, he was a perfect horseman,
either over a course or a country. George Pigot was
likewise very good in his saddle, but had not the head of
Hawkes in a near race. Sir Tatton Skyes was a second
Hawkes, cool, and with a beautiful hand. Of his cool-
ness, perhaps, nothing can beat what I am now about to
relate. When riding a match, at York, his hor.se bolted,
and, falling over some rails, he, of course, fell to the
ground. His antagonist, having observed the accident,
was cantering gently along towards the winning-post,
supposing the race to be his own ; when, within a few
yards of home, he was passed by a horseman, in a coat
and hat, who wished him a pleasant ride. This was Sir
Tatton, who had borrowed the coat and hat from a
bystander, when he fell, and thus deceived his competitor,
who mistook him for one of the crowd. So fond was Sir
Tatton of riding races, that he has been known to ride a
hundred miles for that sole purpose, and returnL.to York-
shire on his hack immediately on the event being decided.
Of Mr. Bullock — commonly called Nando Bullock, his
name having been Orlando — some amusing anecdotes are
recorded, in reference to his passion for race-riding. The
following is a description of a race he once rode and won.

" I turned the last post," said he, " snug as murder ;
now, said I to myself, the pantomime is going to begin,
and I think I shall beat Mr. Merryman." (There was a
horse called Merryman in the race, and heavily backed to
win.) Again, when he broke his leg and thigh in a race,
by his horse running against a post, he absolutely spurred
the persons who were carrying him upstairs to bed, witli
his other leg, so little daunted was he by the mishap.
He met his death by an accident, at last, and was much
regretted by his friends, for his great good humour.

Lords Charles Somerset, Milsington, and Delamere,
rode much at Bibury, and well — Lord Charles Somerset
especially — although they were all above jockey height,
as also was Mr. Musters ; but Mr. Worral, one of the best
of them, was cast in the jockey mould.

But to return to our young sportsman at Oxford.
Having engaged a tandem for the purpose, with four of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 99

the best gig-horses that the Oxford stables could produce,
Frank Raby and his friend Hargrave thus arranged their
plans for the approaching Bibury Meeting. They .sent
two of the horses to Witney, and by thus relieving those
that brought them from Oxford, they were enabled to go
to, and return from, the course, and be in their college at
night — driving alternate stages, for the furtherance of
their mutual improvement in this hazardous occupation,
as well as for their mutual pleasure ; and all went well
for the first three days. Having a capital leader over the
last ground, who wanted nothing but holding, and keep-
ing his head straight, these aspiring youths dashed through
the crowd, threading the carriages and horses on the road,
with such skill and dexterity as to attract much notice —
and, at length, that of the Prince, who had been watching
their manoeuvres on the race-course.

" Who are they ? " inquired His Royal Highness of Mr.
Lake.

" I do not know their names, sir," replied Mr. Lake,
" but I understand they are Christchurch men."

" Ask their names," resumed the Prince ; " they will do,
in time, that is to say — if they don't break their necks."

I well remember the scenes at Burford, and all the
neighbouring towns, after the races of the day were over.
That at Burford beggars description, for, independently
of the bustle occasioned by the accommodations necessary
for the Club who were domiciled in the town, the con-
course of persons, of all sorts and degrees, and all in want
of something, was immense. Our young Oxonians, how-
ever, had taken care to provide for themselves in this
respect ; and with a few more collegians, and kindred
spirits too, had formed a select party of themselves, and,
by paying the piper well, had no reason to complain.
But now for the finale to this "lark," I might say, but
that word was not used in those days, in this sense, at
least. On the last day of the meeting, all having hitherto
gone smoothly, an awkward mishap occurred, but which
will, in a great measure, be accounted for by the scene
that took place when the tandem came to the door with
Frank Raby on the bench.

" Come along, Hargrave," said Frank, " I am sure you
have had wine enough; and, as foi;^nyself, I can scarcely
tell the leader from the wheeler. , .Resides, you know this
niare won't stand much longer ere she begins kicking, and

we have only an hour and forty minutes to do the twenty-
one miles in."

" Kick away," said Hargrave, as he came staggering
towards the tandem ; " you know I'd rather be upset than
not ; who cares for a kicker, with a kicking strap over her
back, and a good coachman behind her ? "

" Many a true word is spoken in jest," says the proverb ;
the mare did not kick ; but in descending one of those
sharp " pitches,'"' as they are called by coachmen, between
Burford and Witney — which, in those days, were often
covered with half-broken stone — and at by far too quick
a rate, she stepped on one of them, and fell, and was
dragged some distance by the leader. But now for the
fate of her driver ; he escaped with only some slight
bruises, by falling on the mare whilst she was being
dragged, and rolling thence to the ground ; but Hargrave
was not so fortunate. A dislocation of his left shoulder
was the result, which, he being a very muscular young
man, it required the united strength of four men to
reduce— putting him to extreme torture for the time ;
neither did he speedily recover its effects.

But there is another proverb which applies well here.
" Good comes out of evil ; " as it did in this case. Both
these young gentlemen made a solemn vow, on the
morrow, that they would never again mount either a
tandem or a coach box, at least, not with reins in their
hands, when they had drunk too much wine ; and, though
they became very celebrated as coachmen, and were
occasionally put to rather a severe test, they most
religiously adhered to their vow.

It was reserved to Hogarth to write a scene of furniture.
The rake's levee-room ; the nobleman's dining-room ; the
apartments of the husband and wife, in Marriage A la
mode ; the alderman's parlour ; the poet's bed-chamber ;
and many others, are a history of the manners of the age.
Nevertheless, as the furniture and other accompaniments
of apartments do, in a great measure, describe the char-
acters of the persons who inhabit them, I will attempt a
brief sketch of the rooms occupied by the two Rabys, at
Christchurch, as also those of Hargrave.

The apartments of Andrew require only a short notice.
A bust of Shakspeare was on one table, and one of Sir
Isaac Newton on another ; prints of Mr. Pitt and Mr.
Fox, and also of Adam Smith, author of the " Theory of

Moral Sentiments," adorned the walls ; and a handsome
pair of globes were on a side-table, together with a large
portfolio of maps and drawings of flowers from nature.
On his book- shelves were the best editions of the classics —
both in English and in the dead languages — as well as
the chief historical works of sundry nations and times.
Neither were the rooms in which Frank Raby was domiciled
by any means wanting in books, which his uncle had taken
care to provide for him, nor were they altogether uselessly
bestowed upon him. In fact, he read hard by starts, but
wanted the steady application of his brother, which was
essential to cutting a figure in the schools, even in those
days when examinations were not over-strict. But the
ornaments of these rooms were of a very different char-
acter to those of his brother ; and as the taste and inclina-
tions of men are displayed by such trifles, it will not be
amiss to make mention of them.

On his mantel-shelf was a beautiful figure of a race-
horse, cast in alabaster, and over it hung the good old-
fashioned print of Partner, the race-horse, taking a sweat
at Newmarket. That of Hambletonian and Diamond had
just then been published, and, of course, was to be found
here, as well as in many other rooms in this aristocratic
College. The celebrated carriage match of Lord March
(afterwards Duke of Queensbury), over Newmarket
Heath, hung vis a, vis to the match between Meynell's
Richmond and Smith Barry's Bluecap, two celebrated
foxhounds, over the Beacon course of the same place. The
famous prints, " in caricatura," of Dick Knight and the
Pytchley Hunt, were also to be seen, as well as an
excellent print of Robert Forfeit, so many years hunts-
man to the great John Warde. Tom Oldacre, on Brush,
just then published, was likewise in the collection ; as was
Sir Thomas Mostyn's favourite foxhound bitch, Lady, with
her whelps, a print that is to this day to be seen in half
the public-houses in Oxfordshire. There were likewise
paintings of Bonnybell and Tyrant, two favourite harriers
in his father's pack \. but the deficiency of globes and maps
was made up by a plentiful assortment of four-horse and
hunting whips, boxing gloves and fishing rods, and sundry
other paraphernalia of the sportsman.

Hargrave's rooms were very similarly adorned. Arthur
Wentworth, the earth-stopper, was suspended over his fire-
place. A Cheshire pile game-cock was above that ; and

io2 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

in other parts of his sitting-room were the following well-
known prints : — A bitch fox and her cubs, by Sartorius ;
Humphreys and Mendoza in attitude ; the Phenomena
trotting mare ; a portrait of Eclipse, with John Oakley
(the only man who could ride him) on his back ; the great
Malay cock match ; the York " Highflyer " coach, im-
mortalized by Hogarth ; the London and Shrewsbury
mail ; Jem Howell, the celebrated coachman of Costar's
" Oxford and Brummagem Day," as it was then called ;
portraits of Bill Stuart, and Bob Dolly, with his famous
dog Nelson, " the cock of the Oxford walk ; " likewise
an excellent picture of Squires Draper and Newby, two
celebrated Yorkshire sportsmen, representing them in the
grey of the morning, opening the door of the kennel.
Among the books were some odd numbers of the " Racing
Calendar ; " the first volume of the " Stud Book," the only
one then published ; " Isaak Walton, on Angling ; "
" Peacham's Complete Gentleman ; " and some numbers
of the " Sporting Magazine," a periodical not of much note
in those days.

In his bedroom was a good show of whips, both for
hunting and for the road, all made by Mr. Crowther of
Swallow Street, the crack man of that clay, and who sold
them for a crack price.

"But were there not always crack men?" was the answer
Hargrave made to some one who asked him why he gave a
guinea for his four-horse whips, when good ones were to
be had for half the sum? "You may get them cheaper,
doubtless, but where will you get them so good ? Are
there more than two men in England, who can make a
really good hunting saddle ? " And what else was to be
seen in this bachelor's bedroom 1 why, not much beyond
what was commonly found in a gentleman commoner's
bed-chamber at this time, whose only object was to find
repose from the fatigues of the day, or to shake off the
fumes of bad wine. There was, however, a print of a
sleeping Venus, suspended against the wall, with some
lines of his own written under it, merely expressive of his
high admiration of the human form ; and, pinned to the
curtain of his bed, so as to be visible by him when awake,
the words diluculo exsurgam legibly written on a slip of
white paper. But there was something more than met
the eye of a common observer in these words. It was
not the mere act of early risirui, which these words imply,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 103

that stood so high in Mr. Hargrave's estimation ; the fact
was, he found, by experience, that by being what is called
"a good man at morning chapel," he obtained the credit of
being a regular man in his college, whereas, in truth, he
was anything but that. Although perfectly free from all
vicious propensities, and one of the most popular men at
Oxford, at the time, he was what would now be termed
" an out-and-out larker," and as often broke through the
rules and trammels of the University as any other young
gentleman of his day on its books.

Carthage is said only to have produced one Hannibal ;
and great men, in their way, are scarce in all modern com-
munities. At the time I am alluding to, very good horse-
men over a country were much more rare than they now
are ; and there were not more than a dozen in the Uni-
versity of Oxford who were entitled to be called such.
The very best among them, however, was Hargrave, who
united all the good properties essential to riding well after
hounds. He possessed great strength, unaccompanied by
great weight, not exceeding twelve stone (fourteen pounds
to the stone), with his saddle, which is considered the best
of all weights for crossing a strong country, and for this
reason : the twelve-stone man, independently of his power
to assist his horse, to pull open gates, and knock about
obstacles of any sort, is almost sure to be mounted on a
horse worthy to be called a hunter, that is, a horse of
power ; whereas, your nine or ten-stone sportsman is too
often mounted on what is called " a nice little horse," to
carry his weight ; in other words, a cat-legged weed, not
worthy the name of hunter, and which gets knocked back-
wards, or turned heels upward, by a strong grower in a
hedge, which the horse of a twelve-stone man would drive
before him, or break. Then, to use a vulgar expression,
Hargrave had the nerves of a bull-dog, in the field, and
would turn from no fence that he considered there was a
chance to get over when in chase ; but was free from the
folly of taking unnecessary leaps, merely to display his
horsemanship. And, perhaps, one proof of his good horse-
manship may be gathered from this fact, — his horses had
both been purchased, at his request, when young and rav:,
as the term is, that he might have the task of making
them hunters by his own hand ; and capital hunters did
he make them, although differing much from each other.
Rupert, a large-bodied, sleepy-looking bay gelding, about

104 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

fifteen hands two inches high, with long shoulders and
quarters, and short back, standing over a great deal of
ground, upon short and large legs ; wanting nothing in
his mouth except a plain snaffle bit, but requiring spurs
in his sides over almost every yard that he went ; would
leap timber, either flying or standing, according to his
rider's pleasure ; was one of the best creepers in the world,
consequently, seldom got into scrapes ; and wanted no-
thing but a turn more speed to make him one of the best
hunters in the world. He was, however, as stout as steel
and — no small recommendation to an Oxford man's horse
— he could " come again," as the grooms say, very quickly,
after a hard run, and was good, on the average of sport,
for four days in a fortnight ; at all events, for three.

Topthorn, his other horse, was an animal of a different
description. In the first place, he was better bred ; and,
in the next, in a form altogether different to Rupert.
He was what is called an " up-standing horse," nearly
sixteen hands high ; not large-bodied, although an ex-
cellent feeder, and with very good legs. As a fencer, he
was quite out of the common way, both at height and
width, although there was one imperfection in his fencing,
from which he derived his name ; and here he was the
very reverse of Rupert. He was not only not a creeper
— much less a standing leaper — but so far from leaping
into a fence, as every hunter ought occasionally to do,
when required, he could scarcely be made to go near
enough to his fences before he rose at them, so great was
his dislike to feel a thorn or brier about his legs. His
pace was also far better than Rupert's — good enough,
indeed, for any country and any hounds ; he was capital
at both timber and water, and, barring the imperfection
which gave him his name, one of the most accomplished
hunters of his day. This, indeed, may be inferred from
the following rather uncommon fact : — A nobleman,
residing in Oxfordshire, but then hunting in Leicester-
shire, offered him 400 guineas for Topthorn. His answer
was laconic, but creditable to him, and may be said to
have " given token of a goodly day to-morrow."

" I shall not take 400 guineas for my horse," said this
promising young sportsman. " I am not in debt ; and I
see no reason why I should not ride a good horse with
hounds, as well as his lordship."

As may naturally be supposed, Hargrave was not only

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 105

looked to as a pilot in the field, by all the novitiates in the
" noble science " at that time in the University ; but Frank
Raby, who had been well entered to hounds, previously
to his matriculation at Christchurch, looked to him for
instruction and improvement. And he need not have
gone much farther for instruction : his seat was firm, and
altogether good, with his body pliably erect ; his feet
well out in front ; the knee nearly straight, and not bent
at an angle by short stirrup-leathers, as it was too often
seen in those days ; on the contrary, he sat well down
upon his fork, with his head up, and, as he said of himself,
he rode with a light hand and an easy bit. As for the
bay horse, that is to say, Rupert, a child might have
almost ridden him to hounds ; bxit it required a horseman
to handle Topthorn ; and it was from seeing Hargrave's
performance on him, that Frank Raby acquired lessons
which he never forgot, and which afterwards perfected
him in the horseman's art.

In proportion to the number of young men of family
and fortune rising up in the world, will be the proportion
of the various occupations and pursuits which their
several inclinations lead them to engage in. That fox-
hunting has ever been, and, it is to be hoped, ever will be
one, it is scarcely necessary to add ; although, at the time
I am alluding to, there were fewer followers of the chase
in the Universities than are to be found in them at the
present day. In fact, I have already said there were only
about a dozen really good workmen, at this period, at
Oxford, who kept hunters during term, and who may be
said to have done the thing in a truly workman-like style
throughout. Amongst them was a commoner of Oriel, who
accompanied Hargrave and Frank Raby, on a fine morning
in the first week in December, to Oddington Ashes, a
favourite cover in the Beaufort Hunt ; their horses having
been sent to Chipping Norton on the preceding evening,
the distance from Oxford being upwards of twenty miles.

In those days there were not the crowds of horsemen
with hounds, composing what is termed " the field," that
are now to be seen ; but, on the day of which I am speak-
ing, about fifty well-mounted gentlemen and half a dozen
farmers were assembled — all having some pretensions to
be called sportsmen ; in other words, they were met to-
gether for very different purposes than riding at, or over,
each other, after the manner of our steeple-chase jockeys

io6 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

of these times; and driving hounds over the scent, as
if that instinctive agent, called nose, was by no means
necessary to their pursuing it, to the final accomplishment
of their object — the death of a stout fox.

It is unnecessary to relate all the particulars of this
day's hunting ; suffice it to say, that a fox was soon found,
and, after having taken two deep rings in this justly
celebrated cover, broke under the most favourable cir-
cumstances ; namely, with the body of the hounds on the
scent, and the horsemen where they should be ; not
too near, to drive them over the scent, or so far distant
from them as to be unable to enjoy them in their work.
Still there was one thing unusual in the break. The
general run of foxes from Oddington Ashes is, what is
called in that country, " up hill ; " that is to say, not down
the vale, but either for the woods of Heythrop, or Ditchley,
or, as oftentimes, for the forest of Witchwood. Upon this
day, however, the fox took a very different course, going
straight down the vale for Pain's Furze, near to the
town of Moreton-in- Marsh, and thence to Bourton Wood
— beyond Bourton-on-the-Hill — now hunted by Lord
Segrave. Nor was this regretted by the young Oxonians,
although it took them in a contrary direction to their
homes. It gave to Frank Raby, and to the commoner
of Oriel — whose name, by-the-by, was Goodall — an
opportunity of witnessing the fine horsemanship and
good judgment of Hargrave, whom they selected as their
pilot in as severe a country as hounds often run over. In
the first place, they had the Kingham brook to leap, and
the Kingham field to cross, which none but good horses
can do, and live with hounds when they are going their
best pace, as they did in the run I am alluding to. And
it told on the horses that crossed it on this day. It
reduced the number that started with the hounds to, at
most, one-third ; and the field soon became, what in these
days is termed, " most desirably select." But the trial
of trials was yet to come. There runs through this rich
vale a brook called the Evenload — commonly called the
Emload — which not more than one man in twenty would
ride at, in those days, nor will more than one man in ten
get well over it in these. In fact, it is, in many places,
all but a stopper ; in all, a very serious affair for horses a
little pumped out by the pace, the banks being far from
good, and the water both wide and deep. Now it so

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 107

happened that, by a lucky turn, Goodall, and a hard-
riding parson of that time, arrived first at the brook, and
the parson took it in his stroke. Neither did Goodall
intend doing otherwise. Taking a good pull at Pineapple
(for such was his horse called, in consequence of the deep
scoring of his legs, by some merciless operator, with the
firing irons) at about a hundred yards from its banks, he
sent him manfully at it, but by not extending himself far
enough, he dropped short, and fell backwards, with his
rider under him, into the stream !

" He is m, by heavens," exclaimed Hargrave, who saw
the mishap, " and the parson has it all to himself."

" He'll be smothered," said Frank Rabv ; " what's to be
done?"

"Not he," resumed Hargrave, "he's clear of his horse; do
you go quick at the brook to the right, and I'll go to the left.

No sooner said than done ; both charged it and got over,
and six more of the field did the same thing ; but it was
a trial of nerve to a young one to ride at a place of
this description, in which his friend and his horse were
floundering, and within twenty yards of him at the time.

No one headed the parson, who kept the lead to the
end, the fox having sunk before the pack within a field
of Bourton Wood, the earths of which, being open, might
perchance have saved his life.

'' Well done, my old college," exclaimed the parson, as he
saw the two Christchurch men amongst the eleven that
were in at the death, and no more appeared until the fox
was broken up by the pack, and then only the few who
had passed the brook by a bridge.

" But what is become of Mr. Goodall ? " was the anxious
inquiry of many.

" I saw him safe on the bank," replied a whipper-in ;
"and I told a farmer to send some men to assist his horse,
which he promised he would immediately do." And he
was as good as his word. Pineapple was pulled out by a
team of horses, not much the worse for his disaster ; and
when his brother collegians returned to Chipping Norton,
where their hacks awaited their arrival, they found the
one comfortably dressed in his stall, and the other in the
act of finishing a good-sized bowl of bishop, which he had
swallowed after his luncheon, by way of keeping out the
cold, as has ever been the good practice, as well of ancient
as of more modern times.

io8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

CHAPTER VII

A trip to Ascot Races, succeeded by an inquiry into the systems
and methods of travelling, from the earliest ages to the golden
age of the road in England.

OX the morning following his arrival in town, Frank
Raby received the following letter from his friend,
Sir John Inkleton : —

"STEVENS'S HOTEL, BOND STREET, June.
" DEAR FRANK, — I arrived in town last night, and
hope to see you here to dinner to-morrow at six o'clock.
It is of no use asking the old one ; he is no company for
you and me, for he once told me he could not live with
'men 'whose talk was of bullocks.' I twigged what he
meant. However, he is not a bad sort of fellow at bottom ;
and all the harm I wish him is, that he were safely landed
in heaven, and you had his money. I think you would
make a better use of it than he does, with his antics, as old
Dick says. I shall ask Jack Webber to meet you, and we
will have some coaching talk. The nags are all in town —
two rare teams, and two rest horses — ten in all ; they
will be quite ready for Ascot on Tuesday, when you shall
have a seat on the box. — Believe me, yours ever,

" JOHN INKLETON.

"P.S. — I saw Jack Bailey to-day, who spoke of you.
By-the-bye, they were all well at the Abbey when I left
home, Andrew making the agreeable to old and young,
especially to the Chapmans, but I think Egerton has
nailed the youngest, and the eldest won't do at any price.
Andrew is an out-and-out slow one, except at Latin,
Greek, and the Fathers ; and there, Egerton says, he is
not easy to beat."

The hour of six being arrived — there were no eight or
nine o'clock dinners in those days — Sir John, his friend
Jack Webber, a great amateur coachman, Frank Raby, and
Hargrave, met at Stevens's Hotel, as appointed, and sat
down to a dinner of the best of everything, in one of the
private rooms. The following was a part of their talk : —

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 109

Sir John. — " Well, Jack, glad to meet you once more ;
what news in town 1 "

WMer.—"Whj, the devil to pay at the 'Bull and
Mouth.' They have got the distemper in the yard, and
they have taken Will Brydges off the Shrewsbury
' Union,' the best coach out of London for a coachman,
and put him on the Bristol ' Blue.' Besides, they talk of
docking them all of the short shillings the first stage, in
and out, which is not fair, because we all know that
London coachmen are at heavier expenses for lodging and
food than those who work down in the country."

Sir John. — " And the ' Swan with Two Necks,' how go
they on there ? "

Webber. — "Oh, all right, as regards the nags — never
better ; but the devil's o\vn work between the ' Telegraph '
and the ' Defiance,' on the Manchester road. I saw Bob *
go out with his coach to-day, and Jack l yesterday, both
very flash indeed ; in short, dressed more like gentlemen
than coachmen."

Sir John. — " And Jack Hale, how is he 1 "

Webber. — " Never better ; and his stock looks as well
as he does. He has just accepted the office of secretary
to the Benevolent Whip Club, to which several of our
friends have subscribed handsomely."

Sir John. — "An excellent institution that. No class of
persons stand more in need of something of the sort, to
enable them to fall back upon, in case of illness or
accident, to which they are so much exposed, as coachmen
and guards do. I shall see Jack when he comes in, to-
morrow, and tell him to put down my name for ten
guineas a year. I have had no less than three coachmen
and two guards invalided at my house in the country,
during the last two years, who might not have required
my assistance had they been members of the ' Benevolent
Club.' "

Webber. — " I suppose you have seen Jack Bailey, as his
coach came in about two hours ago ? "

Sir John. — " Of course I did, and showed him, by his
ov:n v:atch — at least, by the one which once was his — how,
to a minute, he had kept his time. 'It's a wonder I did,
Sir John,' said Jack, ' for the roads be in a queerish state,
after that 'ere thunder-storm yesterday ; and there is at

1 Bob Snow, now on the Brighton road, and Jack Marchant, who
died landlord of the " Greyhound Inn," at Xewmarket.

no THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

least half a ton of Birmingham shillings in the front
boot.' All the better for the way-bill, said I ; and as
for the bad shillings, as Jack observed, that's nothing to
nobody ; all trades must live, and we are all honest men
till we are found out."

At this moment the door opened, and in walked Frank
Baby.

Sir John. — " Frank ! my boy, how are you 1 — glad to
see you once more ; let me introduce you to Mr. Webber,
an old Etonian and Christchurch man ; like ourselves,
devilish fond of the road, a right good coachman, but not
much of a foxhunter."

Webber. — " Happy to make your acquaintance, Mr.
Raby. Inkleton tells me you are one of us ; fond of the
ribbons, eh ? Bailey says you were one of his best pupils
when at Eton, and Jack Hale says there are few better
out of Oxford — gownsmen, of course."

Frank. — "I am very fond of driving four horses, but
do not pretend to call myself a coachman. If I make
one in Jive years from this time, I shall think myself very
fortunate."

Webber. — " It cost me ten, and as many hundreds of
pounds as well. My bill, with old Mother Jones, at
Oxford, for box-coats for guards and coachmen, was never
under a hundred per annum, for many years ; and I am
afraid to say what it has cost me in four-horse whips, also
given away. Then my scores at public-houses, on different
roads, was something approaching fifty pounds a year for
what coachmen and guards call their 'allowance.' For
example, that at the ' Magpies,' on Hounslow Heath, for
rum-and-milk to the mail coaches, up and down, was
no joke — generally exceeding twenty pounds. No house
on the road makes such capital rum-and-milk as the
* Magpies' does ; the coachmen call it ' milking the bull.'
But I don't regret the money I spent in this way, for
many reasons. It gave me an insight into all sorts of
life ; it made me a coachman, which nothing but road-
work will do ; it gave me an opportunity of doing many
a kind act towards persons who were not so fortunately
cast in life as myself ; and last, though not least — for I
never encouraged what I considered a worthless fellow,
or a blackguard — I have reason to believe I have con-
tributed, with others, equally fond of the ribbons as
myself, towards the commencement of a new era amongst

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN in

coachmen and guards. From the notice taken of them,
by gentlemen, they appear to be endeavouring to make
themselves worthy of their regard and protection ; and if
such should prove the case, I shall never regret the many
hundred guineas they have received from me. Neither
is the obligation all on one side. I have been indebted
to them for much amusement, which I could not have
enjoyed but with their permission ; and it must be
remembered that they gave me that permission at the
risk of losing their places. But you are very fond of
hunting, as well as driving, Mr. Baby; I know all about
you from Hargrave, who is the son of a friend of my
father's, and a really good fellow too."

Frank. — " I am very fond of both ; but am afraid I
shall not be able to enjoy them, or even one of them, in
perfection."

Webber.—11 And why not ? "

Frank. — " I shall not be able to afford the expenses. I
fear I shall not be content with the common run of
countries, after what I have heard of Leicestershire and
Northamptonshire ; and, fond as I am of road-work, I
should like to have a team of my own."

Webber. — " Oh ! no fear. By what I have heard, from
Hargrave and others, you have a rich old uncle, at whose
death you will succeed to a very large property, chiefly
in money, and that the worthy gentleman is not likely to
be long-lived. That being the case, you will not want
for money in this town of London, for there are plenty of
money-lending rascals who will advance you what sum
you may require on your expectations. Besides, no doubt,
your father will leave you a good "

Sir John.—" Hold hard, there, Webber; I don't like
the post-obit system at all. Remember what happened
to Newland, who was at Oxford with me. Besides,
although I think it very probable that Raby's father will
leave our young friend the Hopewell estate, which is not
entailed, you must be aware that his expectations from
his uncle are merely expectations. It is still possible he
may marry, and have children, which of course, Moses
would take into the calculation ; in which case, the raising
money by post-obit would be most ruinous.

Webber. — "What happened to Newland? he was after
my time at college, and I never heard anything about
him in the money way ; but I know he was very fond of

ii2 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

racing, and used to say that, from his great talent for
calculation, he expected to make a fortune by the turf."

Sir John.—" He lost £100,000, at least, by talking of
post-obiting his aunt. He called out, publicly, in the
ring at Newmarket, ' IVTiat odds will anyone bet me, that I
don't win the Derby, in four years after my old aunt dies ? '
This was mentioned, in his own neighbourhood, as a mere
joke ; but on its being conveyed to the ears of the old
lady, by the parson of the parish in which she lived, and,
of course, commented upon for its enormity, he was left
£100 to purchase a mourning suit and a ring. Now, for
what I know of Mr. Beaumont Raby, he would be very
likely indeed to pursue the same plan by a nephew who
might post-obit him."

Webber.— " And did the parson get the £100,000 ? "

Sir John. — "No, thank God! it was left chiefly to
hospitals and Sunday schools ; but poor Newland has
never held up his head in the world since. It is a good
lesson to all young gentlemen who attempt to post-obit
their relations. If, however, my young friend here wants
the means of keeping an extra hunter or two, during his
uncle's lifetime — for I am quite sure he will not need
assistance afterwards — I will take care he shall be supplied
with them, without having recourse to a usurious money-
lender. But, Frank, my good fellow, don't get much into
debt, if you can help it. Some of my acquaintance have
never recovered the effects of debt contracted early."

Webber. — " True ; but I think the fault there often lies
with the old ones. Every father ought to ask his son,
when he quits the University, what debts he has left
unpaid ? when, by a speedy arrangement of them, future
expenses and extortion, and, in no few cases, ruin to the
contractor of them, would be avoided. They hang like
an incubus upon a man, who is not able to discharge them
at the time, and often cause him to be reckless in his
future proceedings. By-the-bye, I can tell you a good
anecdote on this subject, and it relates to an intimate
friend of mine, a fellow-commoner, of Trinity College,
Cambridge. Two years after he quitted the University,
he accompanied his father to one of the Newmarket
Meetings — all of which he attended — and was thus
addressed by him at its close : — ' I have lately seen, in
my letter-bag, a considerable number of letters, addressed
to you, bearing the Cambridge post-mark, which leads me

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 113

to believe you have some scores left unpaid in that town,
in spite of the handsome allowance you received from me.
However, as you spent your money in good society, and
left a fair name behind you in the College, I shall freely
forgive you, if my suspicions prove to be just. To-
morrow morning, then, we will breakfast at Cambridge,
on our return to town ; and if, in two hours after our
arrival there, you will give me a list of the entire of your
debts, they shall all be embodied in one cheque, at sight.'
My friend was placed in rather a trying position. The
entire of his debts — and his father laid strong emphasis
on the epithet — amounted to above £800, a sum greatly
exceeding, as he thought, his liberal father's expectations !
Then what was to be done ? To have given in a muti-
lated list would have been deceiving himself, by deceiving
his father ; so he took courage, and boldly gave in the
aggregate amount. His generous parent took his cheque-
book from his pocket, and having drawn on his banker
for the required amount, never afterwards mentioned the
subject in the presence of his son ! "

Sir John. — " And what effect had all this on your
friend1?"

Webber. — " The best possible effect ; he has been a
prudent man ever since. But, speaking of old college
friends, let me ask you, Raby, how vou like my friend
Hargrave 1 "

Frank. — " Very much, indeed ; he is my most particular
ally. He is supposed to be the best horseman and sports-
man, combined, in the University ; and, in every respect,
a good fellow."

Webber. — "And don't you like Topthorn and Rupert?"

Frank. — " The best horses in Oxford."

Sir John. — " Barring Achilles and the General, Frank ;
but I suppose your modesty induces you to place those of
your friend first 1 "

Frank. — " They are generally first in the field, Sir
John."

Sir John. — " That may be ; Hargrave is an older hand
than you are over a country ; but, with equal men upon
them, I should be inclined to back Achilles against
Topthorn in a severe run."

Frank. — " He has not got the speed of him, Sir John ;
neither do I think Achilles can cover so large a fence."

Sir John. — " "Well, Frank, I commend your candour —
8

ii4 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

I may say, your sincerity ; for, as I purchased the horses
for you, you might have compromised truth for politeness'
sake. As I detest a boaster, I sincerely commend you for
what you have said ; and now, if you please, we will sit
down to our soup."

In the course of the evening, the arrangements for
attending Ascot Kaces were thus stated by Sir John : —

" I shall send one team to Staines, where it will remain
during the meeting ; so that we shall go and return on
each day, which will add much to our amusement ; and
I think our party will be a pleasant one : at all events, I
will do my best towards making it such, and have given
orders that a good dinner, for eight, shall await us every
day, at the ' Bush ' ; so that we shall have the road clear
for us on our return to town, and travel in the cool of the
evening, when the crowd of cockneys will be dispersed."

It is not worth while to enter into the detail of an
Ascot Meeting, so long passed by as this is ; but, as may
easily be imagined, the splendour of the scene, unrivalled
in the world, made a deep impression upon our hero.
Neither was it the scene alone, in which the enthusiastic
reception of the Royal Family formed a principal and pleas-
ing feature, that alone impressed his mind. He saw racing
to perfection. He saw the performance of the best horses
and the best jockeys of the day ; amongst the latter, the
famous Samuel Chifney,1 and John Arnull, both riding for
the Prince of Wales ; Tom Goodison, and others of equal
Newmarket celebrity ; as also Billy Pierse, as he was
called, the noted Yorkshire jockey, then riding for his
Grace of Cleveland, at that time Lord Darlington. But
we must not forget Dennis Fitzpatrick, imported from
Ireland by Lord Clermont, who was at that period in the
height of practice, but whose life was cut short by
catching cold in wasting. Frank Raby's admiration of
these men, as also of the horses on which they distinguished
themselves, the best, perhaps, of their day, at all events
very superior to any he had ever seen before, was almost
boundless ; and he would, now and then, ask himself the
question : — " Shall lever make a figure on this course ?"
The answer to which, he must be aware, depended upon
various circumstances, quite beyond his control, although
within the range of speculation.

On the first morning of the meeting — a beautiful one
1 Father of the present jockey.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 115

in June- — and at the hour of ten o'clock, Sir John's team
was at the door of Stevens's Hotel, and nothing could be
more correct in its appointments. The coach was a bright
yellow, neatly picked out with black, and a plain crest on
the upper door-pannel. The mountings were, of course, of
brass, to suit the furniture of the harness ; there were roof-
irons to the front roof, which held three persons, and
a comfortable dickey behind, to carry the two servants.
The box was likewise on the true coaching principle, made
to sail forwards towards the wheel-horses, with a good
roomy footboard, and well-cushioned seat, allowing plenty
of elbow-room for two. The horses were dappled greys,
which did credit to all parties ; first, to their owner, for
the selection of them ; next, to the men who had the care
of them : for the white hairs on their bodies were as
white as the driven snow, and their harness equally well
polished. But Sir John's order for soap was unlimited,
one severe tax on the use of grey coach-horses ; and it is
said he never grumbled if the year's bill for that purifying
article did not exceed £100 !

The party assembled on this occasion, and the arrange-
ment of them about the coach, were as follows : — Frank
Raby, according to promise, on the box (the word " bench "
was not in use in those days), by the side of his friend ;
on the roof, Lord Edmoiiston, Captain Askham, and Ha r
grave, whom our hero had introduced to his friend, who
kindly offered him a seat : inside were two friends of
the Baronet's, non-coaching men, and an old and warm
relation, who promised to pay for the champagne, both on
the course and at dinner, for the four days of the meeting,
on condition that he was not upset, either in going or
returning.

Now, of the majority of this party it is not necessary to
say much. Lord Edmonston, Hargrave, our hero, and
his friend, have already been before the public ; and the
insides, on this occasion, were good and worthy gentlemen
in their line, but of no pretensions in ours. There was,
however, one conspicuous character on the way-bill, which
must not be passed over, inasmuch as his career in life, up
to a certain period of it, is, we may presume, without a
parallel in the line in which he figured. This is Captain
Askham, holding his commission in one of our heavy
dragoon regiments, whose history is nearly this : —

At the age of twenty-one, he succeeded" to an estate, the

ii6 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

clear rental of which was £8000 a year, and a considerable
sum of ready money as well, he having been for several
years a minor. His passion was, the roa<l : he had never
less than three, often four, teams at work at the
same time ; and at one period, when quartered at the
distance of nearly 100 miles from London, had the ground
absolutely "covered," as the term is, among coach pro-
prietors, with his own horses, and amused himself and
his friends by driving his coach between London and the
town in which he was quartered, whenever his inclination
prompted him. The pace, as may be imagined, was an
awful one ; I allude not to the rate at which the drag
travelled, but to that at which the cash found its exit out
of the Captain's pocket ; for champagne, at sixteen shillings
a bottle, was the ordinary "allowance" on the road, to
say nothing for the et ceteras in London. But, nil violentum
est mrpet uum, there was soon a stop to those proceedings ;
and here is the best part of the story, which cannot fail to
create a smile. The Captain, like our hero, had a rich
uncle, own brother to his father ; and having made his
fortune in trade, was the more readily alarmed at the
accounts he heard of his coaching nephew's proceedings,
especially so on finding that his bills and bonds were in
the market, with a rumour, now and then, that even
expectations from himself, at his decease, were anticipated
in his dealings with the money-lending crew.

" Now something must be done," said the uncle to
himself, " to save this nephew of mine from perdition ;
perhaps the best step I can take will be to surprise him in
his folly, and at once convince him of its consequences."
Acting upon this suggestion, he put himself into the mail ;
and hearing, on his arrival in London, where his nephew
was then domiciled for the week, namely, at a celebrated
and most expensive inn, not fifty miles from London, the
following Jclaircissement took place on his entering the
stable-yard of the same : —

" Whose coach is that 1 " said he to a man having the
appearance of a helper in a stable. " Captain Askham's,
sir," was the reply. " And that ? " continued the uncle.
" Captain Askham's, sir," answered the helper. " And
that break 1 " " The Captain's, sir." " And that travelling
chariot 1 " " The Captain's, sir."

Then turning into a stable in which there were six
fine coach-horses: — "Whose horses are these?" was the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 117

question put to another helper. "Captain Askham's,
?ir." "And these?" resumed the old gentleman, on
finding six more in another stable. " Captain Askham's,
sir." "And these?" — ditto repeated — in a third. "Cap-
tain Askham's, sir." " And pray whose bear is that 1 "
inquired the uncle of another man, whose path he crossed
in the yard. "Captain Askham's, sir." "And the
monkey ? " " The Captain's, sir." " My God ! " exclaimed
the uncle ; " and pray where is the Captain himself ? "
'•' A-bed, in the house," answered his informant. " Let
me see him, then," resumed the old one ; "show me the
way to his room."

The sequel to this story is short. The uncle addressed
his nephew with : — " I am just come in time to save you
from a jail. Tn six months more you will be in one. I
will advance what is requisite to discharge your debts, on
your assigning to me the rental of your estate, until they
are all liquidated ; and, in the meantime, I will allow you
two thousand pounds a year." The Captain consented to
this proposal. He retired to his seat in a distant country,
"to starve," as he expressed himself, "on two thousand a
year ; " but by good management, the general result of
dearly-bought experience, he contrived to live very much
like a gentleman, and to indulge himself in his favourite
passion for the road, but only to the extent of one coach,
and one team of tolerably good greys. In a few years his
encumbrances were paid off ; he once more became the
receiver of his own rents, and no man made a better use
than he did of eight thousand a year, cutting his coat
according to his cloth, and having nothing more to do with
either monkeys or bears.

It is scarcely necessary to observe, that this party had
not long passed through Hide Park turnpike, before the
subject of hunting formed a part of their discourse. It
was commenced by Sir John himself, with some questions
put to Lord Edmonston, whom he had not seen, until
that morning, since the hunting season had concluded.

" Well, Edmonston," said Sir John, " what have you
been doing this season in Leicestershire 1 I mean since
Christmas, because Somerby, who has been visiting his
friends in our part of the world, told me what you had
done previously to that time. I daresay you have had
good sport, as the season has been open, and there have
been no complaints of want of scent."

n8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" We have done very well indeed," replied his lordship,
" and old Meynell has been in high force, having killed
forty-one brace of foxes, about his usual amount, and had
capital runs with many of them."

" Perhaps you will give us the history of one of them,"
resumed Sir John. " It will be highly amusing to our
two young friends here, giving them an insight into what
they hope, one day or another, to partake of."

" I will do so with pleasure," was the answer ; " and I
think the Shoby Scoales run, on new-year's day, will
answer your purpose well.

" Shoby Scoales is situated in the finest part of Leicester-
shire ; and, being a sure find, the announcement of the
fixture always brings out a large field. There was, on this
day, a splendid field of horsemen ; and, what added to the
animating scene, a brilliant display of ladies in carriages
and on horseback, the morning being unusually mild for
that season of the year.

" At a quarter past ten o'clock, the hounds were thrown
into the cover, in which they had not long been before
Champion, a favourite old hound, and noted for finding
his fox, challenged on a scent, and was instantly cheered
by Mr. Meynell. ' Have at him, Champion, old boy ! '
he holloaed ; ' you never told me a lie ! Get round to the
lower side of the cover, Jack,' said he to Jack Jones, the
cork-legged whip, and stop his breaking there, for I want
to have a tickler to-day.' No sooner said than done. The
fox broke up wind, and faced our best country, viewed by
the whole field. Of course we were all ready for a start,
but were kept in check by Meynell taking off his cap and
holloaing — ' Hold hard, gentlemen ; pray let my hounds
get fairly out of cover, and settle well to the scent, and
then ride over them if you can.5 We were, however, a very
short time kept in suspense ; for the gallant pack were not
only too well bred, but too well taught to hang in cover
after their game had left it. They were soon out in the
open, with the scent so good, that, dropping their sterns
and raising their heads, away they went, at such an awful
pace, that we might have safely taken Meynell at his
word, and ridden over them, if we could have done so. In
fact, the first quarter of an hour was so fast, that ten
minutes more would have brought us all to a standstill.
At Kagdale, however, we came to a check, the hounds
having a little overrun the scent, from the fox turning

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 119

short to the left, which gave our horses some relief. A
judicious cast soon put us to rights again, and away we
went, at our former speed, to Hoby Town ; and straight
from thence to Frisby Gorse, where, fortunately, we once
again came to a check ; for the pace and the country were
both awfully severe. Many of the horses, indeed, had
already declined, and two received their eternal quietus,
from meeting with accidents at fences.

"Our fox hung just long enough in Frisby Gorse to
give the horses that were up, second wind, and away we
went again, up to Haines's Gorse, near Great Dalby, at a
slashing pace ; thence, over a splendid country, to Gadsby,
when John Raven caught view of him, in a large grass
field, with almost every hound close at his brush. He
contrived, however, to reach the fence ; and, slipping short
down wind, got amongst some old farm buildings in a
village, and once more brought the pack to check. The
scent was again recovered, by some masterly casts of the
' old one,' who never appeared to greater advantage as a
superior judge of fox-hunting, than he did on that day.
After forty minutes' cold hunting, we found ourselves
close to Queenborough village, with very little apparent
chance of again getting near to this most gallant fox,
when one of the most singular circumstances occurred
that was ever recorded in the annals of English fox-
hunting.

" Everyone who knows Meynell, is aware of his in-
vincible perseverance in doing everything that can be
done towards killing his fox ; and in this case he was
determined not to give the smallest chance away. It
occurred to him, that our fox had either got into a drain,
or entered some out-building, in the village of Queen-
borough, which determined him on once more trying to
recover him. He, therefore, walked his hounds 'quietly
among the houses, and, as he passed the church, two or
three couples of his hounds entered the yard. Amongst
these was our friend Champion, who almost instantly
threw his tongue on a scent. 'He is among the dead!''
exclaimed Meynell ; and, putting his horse at the wall,
he rode over it in his usual cool and beautiful style. The
fox had actually taken possession of a newly-made grave,
from out of which he jumped apparently as fresh as when
first found ; afforded us another burst, exceeded by pace
and severity of country only by that from Frisby Gorse

120 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

to Haines's, in the morning, and quite fast enough to
satisfy anyone. In fact, he went from Queenborough
nearly to Syston ; when, crossing the Leicester road, and
charging the river Soar in his course, we ran into him
close to the windmill on the hill, within a few hundred
yards of Mount Sorrel Town ; and thus ended one of the
finest runs ever seen in that or any other country, it
having consisted of every description of hunting, and
of every description of difficulties, which could put the

goodness and condition of hounds, the science of their
untsnian, the bottom of the horses, and the nerves and
judgment of their riders, to the test.

" Were I to relate all the disasters and casualties that
occurred on this memorable day," resumed Lord Edmon-
ston, " I should make my story too long ; and I wish I
could conclude it without stating that several horses died
in consequence of it. I must, however, mention one cir-
cumstance relating to the far-famed master of the pack.
After we had been going for at least three-quarters of an
hour, and at the best pace, with our horses not a little
the worse for it, all of us who were up with the hounds
at the moment, made for the corner of a large grass-field,
near Dalby, which was surrounded by an immense ox-
fence, and particularly strong in that one particular part.
We were assured, however, that the gate in the corner
would open, and this by that good old sportsman, Henton
of Hoby, who said he had passed through it that morning ;
but we found, to our cost, there was no longer a gate
there. It had been broken to pieces by some bullocks,
and replaced with a flight of rails, so high and so strong
as to bring all the leading men to a standstill. In fact,
we were turning away from it in despair, looking for a
practicable place in the ox-fence, when Meynell, mounted
on his famous old grey horse, came up ; and, without
breaking his stride, leaped it in the most beautiful style
imaginable, leaving us all in the lurch, for a time, not one
having the nerve to follow him, although the hounds were
a field or two a-head, running with a breast-high scent at
the time." l

"With the exception of the Captain, who cared nothing

about hounds, and whose attention was chiefly attracted

to the movements of the four greys, and the masterly

style in which they were handled by their driver, this

1 This is a fact.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 121

interesting description of a run with Mr. Meynell's
hounds, together with the extraordinary incidents which
occurred in it, was listened to with much delight ; more
especially by the two young ones, who glanced a signifi-
cant look at each other, towards the conclusion of it, as
much as to say, " That is the country and those are the
hounds for us." Sir John, indeed, began to reflect whether
he were not pursuing a losing game by keeping six hunters
in hi* own country instead of twice six in Leicestershire,
and enjoying fox-hunting in 'perfection. But there were
reasons which more than counterbalanced this very strong
inducement on his part. Independently of a wish to
reside on his own property, in compliance with the death-
bed request of his father, his passion for the road quite
equalled that for the chase, and for this purpose he could
nowhere be so well situated as at home, for reasons that
have already been detailed.

But to return to the journey down the road. The first
stop was at Hounslow, where, according to the usage of
those days — slow compared with the present — the bearing
reins were let down, and the noses of the horses plunged
into a bucket of cold water, with a swallow or two each,
and most refreshing must it have been to them, after
toiling through ten miles of dust, for there were no
watered roads in those days. A glass of sherry and a
biscuit were also partaken of by the party, and onward they
proceeded towards the course. At the point at which the
roads branch off — just outside of the town of Hounslow —
the Baronet exclaimed, pointing to the Oxford fingerpost : —

" That is my old road. There are my old associations ; "
and, turning himself round towards Hargrave, and after-
wards towards his young friend on the box, he added,
" there, no doubt, are yours also. There stands the
' Magpies ' on the heath, where I first milked the bull,
and there is to be seen Jack Bailey, my faithful friend
and preceptor, coming up with his coach ; and an out-
and-out coachman he is. And next, old Baldwin of
Slough, whose books were always as open to me as his
house, whose tick was as good as his wine was bad. Then,
passing by Eton — for I was sick of that place, and all its
host of learned tyrants — what can beat old Shrubb,1 at
Benson, and a good dinner in Xo. 3 ? But I am not
going to stop there. Can I forget Christchurch, and the
1 The landlord's name, at the head inn.

122 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

happy days I passed within its walls 1 They never have
been surpassed by any others, and I more than doubt
whether they ever will be. I am now, however, travel-
ling in a new direction, and shall meet with none but
new faces on this road. But so it is : and there are the
nags all ready for us in the street, and we will change
quickly, that we may get a good place on the course."

Not ten minutes had elapsed before they were off again,
having ordered a dinner at the " Bush " to be ready for
them on their return, some particular dishes having been
bespoke by the insides. " What a splendid team you have
got here, Inkleton," said the Captain, as they threw
themselves into their collars, in ascending the hill out of
Egham, appearing to regard the weight of the carriage
and its contents as nothing more than was just necessary
to the full development of their great powers and form. In
fact, on the flat between the two towns, it was as much
as Sir John could do to restrain their ardour, so redun-
dant did they feel themselves of high keep and mettle.

" They ought to be good," replied the Baronet ; " those
leaders cost me two hundred guineas apiece, and the
wheelers more than two-thirds of the sum. There will be
nothing on the road to-day that can touch them, if they
would settle down to the trot, but, from the effect of the
excitement of a race-course, so new to them, there is little
chance of their doing so. All I can hope for, is, that
they will not break away with me, on our return from the
ground ; but I have little fear of it, as my tackle is good."

On entering Windsor great park — one of the grandest
the world can show — the conversation was resumed about
Eton, whose " antique towers " were now visible to the
party ; and to those who had been educated there, some
old associations presented themselves.

" Yonder is the old shop," said the Baronet to Hargrave.

" Yes," replied Hargrave, " and I never wish to be
nearer to it than I now am."

'• Nor I neither," observed Frank Raby.

" I have no great fancy for the place myself," added
the Baronet, " but I should like to see old Stevens and
Jack Hall once more."

"By-the-by," resumed Hargrave, "did you hear of the
good bit of luck Jack Hall dropped into the other day ? "

On the Baronet replying in the negative, Hargrave thus
related the story : —

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 123

" When Hobart left school, at Christmas, the doctor
and his tutor, from a knowledge of the large possessions
that awaited him on his majority, of course expected a
very handsome pouch ; and it is not improbable that the
amount had been duly communicated to, and approved
of by, the latter. Whether the doctor was popular with
Hobart, is extremely problematical ; but that a certain
person, named Jack Hall, was highly so, there was no
room to doubt. The money for the pouch, then, arrived
in a letter to Hobart himself, the distribution of which
involved him in no small difficulty. The result, how-
ever, was this :— On the one hand, the chief educational
assistance he had received from the doctor consisted of
manifold unmerciful floggings, and without being much
the better for them ; whereas, on the other, through the
affectionate assiduities of Jack Hall, he had been rendered
a match for any man on the Thames, in the use of a
casting-net, or the management of a boat or a punt ; and
could heel and handle a cock with all the dexterity of
a professor. In point of fact, it was a simple case of
flogging versus cock-fighting, net-casting, and boating.
Taking into consideration, then, the ' value received '
from either party, and, after the most mature deliberation,
Hobart decided that the money ought to be divided in
equal portions between the three — the doctor, the private
tutor, and the professor of arts and sciences, which Jack
Hall must be allowed to be. And now for the finale.
This upright division of the money would never have
been known to the family had they not chanced to have
been made acquainted with it through an unlooked-for
channel, when all was put straight between the parties.
The deficiency to the pedagogues was rectified, as it
ought to have been ; but Jack retained his share, on the
well-known principle of his profession — that all was fish
which came into his net. The former — the pedagogues —
returned suitable acknowledgments for all favours. The
doctor presented Hobart with a splendidly bound edition
of the moral Lucretius ; and Jack Hall invited him, with
his friends, to a flash dinner ' up town.' :!

" Capital ! " exclaimed the Captain ; " we had none
of that work at Harrow ; but I think, from my experience
of them, most schoolmasters would get monkey's allow-
ance if left to the generosity of their pupils alone to
reward them, although I do not see why they should ; as

i24 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

after all, they only do their duty towards them, although
many of them are, like young coachmen, too fond of the
whip. As for myself, I had rather be a horse-keeper to
the Holyhead mail than a schoolmaster ; and does not
somebody say, 'Quern Jupiter odit pedagoyum faciti''
But, Inkleton, when speaking of Oxford, and the fun
you had there in our time, you appear to have forgotten
Jem Howell, and the ' Birmingham Day,' one of the best
of his order, out of the University, and Costars favourite
servant."

" Forget Jem Howell ! " exclaimed the Baronet ; " you
might as well suppose I should forget to eat my dinner
to-day at the ' Bush.' I consider Jem quite a pattern-
card of a stage-coachman, both in figure and dress ; and
he appears as if he were made on purpose to meet a
north-east wind, with the thermometer at zero, over those
Oxfordshire hills. Then, what a voice he has ! — what an
eye ! — in fact, what an expressive countenance through-
out, under that broad-brimmed hat ! "

" That was not much amiss of Jem, the other day," said
Hargrave, " respecting the new Bishop of Oxford. ' I wish
they'd gin (given) it Oolly? said Jem (the gentleman's
name was Woolley) ; 'he'd have made a rare bishop, for
he's not only a scholard, but a gemman, and that's more
than can be said of all on 'em. They tells me scholard -
ship opens men's minds ; it may be so, but it shuts their
purses devilish close — at least I find it so on this road.
I never remember getting more than one shilling from
a passenger in black, in a shovel hat, but once since I
have drove this coach.' But it is Jem's very dry manner
of expressing himself," resumed Hargrave, " that gives
a zest to these trifling stories ; in fact, they would not
be worth repeating without it. I saw an old woman go
up to him, the other morning, in Oxford, and say to him,
' Be you a-going to Brummagem to-day, Master Howell 1 '
' Xo, ma'am,' replied Jem ; ' but I shall go half-way there,
and my fellow-servant will take you the other half if
you waVt to go there ; but mind ye, ma'am (looking up-
wards towards the sky), if it don't rain.' ' And will it rain,
Master Howell ? ' asked the silly old woman. ' There is
only one person in the world, ma'am, that can answer
that question,' replied Jem, ' and I ar'n't he.' " l

1 This anecdote can only be appreciated by those who are aware
of the troublesome, stupid questions put by the travelling public to

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 125

" He booked his passenger, I conclude," observed Frank
Baby.

" Of course he did," resumed Hargrave ; " for Jem never
throws a chance away ; and I saw a good scene with him,
in that respect, last term. It being a very wet morning,
a passenger put his head out of one of the windows of the
'Angel Inn,' and said, 'Where is the coachman of the
Birmingham Day ? '

'" I be here, at your sarvice, sir,' answered Jem, who
was buckling his reins, at the moment, just ready to
mount his box and be off.

" ' Put some straw on the foot-board, on my side of the
box,' resumed the gentleman.

" ' Beg pardon, sir,' continued Jem ; ' but I never
allows no straw on my foot-board.'

" ' You are an insolent scoundrel ! ' exclaimed the
gentleman.

" ' This, sir, is not the first time I have been told so,'
resumed Jem ; ' but the fact is, I have a mare at wheel,
in this here coach, that, if one single straw touched her
tail, would kick you off the box in about two seconds ;
and here is my master, who will vouch for the truth of
what I have been saying.' "

To attempt to detail the events of a race meeting, so
far back as the one to which I am now alluding, would
be considered a trespass on the reader ; suffice it to say,
that all went off with eclat, as far as the sport on the
course was concerned ; and as the champagne of the week

road-coachmen. This woman knew Howell drove the Oxford and
Birmingham day coach six days in the week, as well as he himself
did ; so that the question was put merely for the sake of asking
it. as many others are. Howell's questions, on the other hand,
were always to the point ; and that put to his master, Mr. Costar,
relating to the coach he had so long been driving, is a fair sample :
— " Do you think, sir, my coach would be missed on the road if it did
not start to-day ? " Mr. Costar agreed with Jem in thinking it
would not ; and it stopped. The fact was, the coaches running
throughout, from London to Birmingham, in a day took most of
its passengers. It is much to be lamented that there is no portrait
of this excellent servant, and true specimen of the old road-coach-
man, an order of men soon only to be known to have existed. He
died worth £10,000, and as one proof of the estimation in which
his character as a confidential and honest servant was held. Mr.
Ansley, of Bletchington Park, kept a horse in Oxford for his use
in the summer ; and a knife and fork were always at his service in
the steward's room at Bletchington, on Sundays, the year round.

126 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

was paid for by the warm old gentleman inside, all went
on well with the drag. The party arrived each night at
Stevens's Hotel as the clock struck eleven, so exactly did the
Baronet keep his time ; and both men and horses appeared
the better for their four days of inhaling clear country air.

But what impression did the events of the week make
upon the youngsters of this party — Frank Eaby and Har-
grave ? Upon the latter, not much. His heart and soul
were wrapped up in fox-hunting, and " closely stopped,"
as fox - hunters say, against the intrusion of meaner
pursuits, amongst which he reckoned racing. Not so,
however, with our hero. He appeared to enter into the
spirit of each individual race with an interest that
attracted notice ; and, on the third day, was seen taking
some bets in the ring, although only to a trifling amount ;
and most of these, as might be expected, he lost. But his
speculations did not end with the turf. The introduction
of the thimble-rig tables had just then commenced, and
Hargrave and himself were amongst the earliest victims
to their unfairness.

" What ! " said one to the other, " can that simple-
looking country bumpkin, in a smock-frock, find out the
pea, and neither you nor I be able to do the same ?
Why, he has won seven guineas already from the rascals,
and how I should like to break them, for they look very
much like thieves."

" There will be no difficulty in it," observed the other ; " I
see the pea every time, and I am quite sure I can always
tell the thimble it is under. We will risk five guineas
apiece, and I'll warrant it we'll soon double our stakes."

But they were interrupted in their course by a bystander,
who overheard them, and who, apparently in compassion
to their simplicity, thus ventured to address them :

" Excuse me, young gentlemen," said he, " but you have
formed a wrong judgment as to the proceedings you
have just been witness of. That simple-looking country
bumpkin, in the smock-frock, is one of the partners in
the table, as well as one of the greatest thieves in London.
He is acting the part of a decoy, and you will be sure to
fall into his net, if you risk your money on the tables."

The youngsters thanked their unknown friend, and
kept their money in their pockets. He also cautioned
them against playing at the various Rouge et Noir and
E. O. tables on the course, assuring them they were all

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 127

unfair, and that they would not have a chance to win at
them. It was discovered, afterwards, that it was one of
the police officers of Bow Street who had acted this
friendly part, having seen the young gentlemen come on
to the course with Sir John Inkleton, to whom he owed a
debt of gratitude, for a kind act done by him, in getting
him put on the establishment, through the intercession of
one of his relations.

During the four days of the meeting, Frank Eaby and
his host never chanced to meet. When the one came
home at night, the other had not returned from his club
— for he was a member of both Brooks's and White's — and
when the nephew started for Ascot in the morning, the
uncle was asleep in his bed. The first time, however, that
they met, which was on the fifth morning, at the breakfast-
table, the following conversation occurred : —

" Well, Frank," said Mr. Eaby, " I hope you have enjoyed
yourself at Ascot."

"Very much indeed," was his reply. "Sir John did
the thing capitally."

" Sir John did the thing ! " repeated the uncle. " What
do you mean by that ? I thought your object was to see
the entire proceedings of an Ascot race meeting, which,
I have reason to believe, is the pleasantest and most
aristocratic in the world. But you seem to bestow
all the credit on Inkleton, who certainly is a very "

" I only meant to say," interrupted Frank, " that Sir
John did the thing in the most coachman-like style, and
his turn-out was uncommonly admired on the road. The
fine coachmanship, also, which he exhibited, in twisting
his horses right and left, and threading the carriages as
he did, at the rate of eight or ten miles in the hour, and
never touching one of them ! And then the coachman-like
manner in which everything was done ; the changing
of the horses, and the scientific way in which they were
put to the coach."

" Scientific ! " smiled the uncle ; " ridiculous, to be
sure ; but really, Frank, it is somewhat of a melancholy
reflection, that, after all the money expended on Inkleton's
education, and with really good parts, which he has, he
should now pride himself upon nothing so much as being
a first-rate coachman. Surely he did not imbibe such
ambition from reading the classics."

" Perhaps not, sir," said our hero, a little petulantly,

128 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

standing up for his patron and friend. " But please to
recollect, uncle, that one of the best of them advises us,
with his own usual good taste, not to condemn the taste
of others any more than to extol that of ourselves. ' Nee
tua Ini'l.abis studia, nee aliena reprendes : '• and, moreover,
if the Athenians, the most polished nation of all antiquity,
deemed it an honour to be considered skilful charioteers,
why should Englishmen consider it a disgrace ? Again ;
— have not their poets divided the honour of the
charioteer with the hero who fights in the chariot ?
Does not Homer make his Nestor the wisest man, and
the best coachman of his day ? Does he not make Priam put
his own horses, with his own hands, to the car in which
himself and the herald demand the body of Hector ? Is he
not, indeed, blamed by one of his commentators for dwell-
ing upon the description of Juno's chariot, when his reader
expects him to lead him into the thick of the battle ?

1 For why should Homer deck the gorgeous car,
When our raised souls are anxious for the war ?
Or dwell on every wheel, when loud alarms,
And Mars, in thunder, calls the host to arms '< '

And is he not so minutely faithful to this part of his
subject, that, at the games of Patroclus, he represents
Menelaus borrowing one of the horses of Agamemnon — a
horse called JEthe (here the uncle smiled, as much as to
say, I wish your recollection was as good on all points,
as upon this) — to put to his chariot with his own, on
account of his superior action, no doubt ? Has not the
greatest poet that ever dipped pen in ink, immortalized
the coachman in song — ay, even in letters of pure gold ?
Turning, then, to the Romans ; can anything be finer than
Juvenal's description, in his eleventh satire, of the excite-
ment created in Rome by the various chariot races at the
Circensian games, which passage has been so admirably
translated by Congreve : —

'This day, all Rome (if I may be allowed.
Without offence to such a numerous crowd,
To say "all Rome") will in the circus sweat:
Echoes already to their shouts repeat ;
Methinks I hear the cry — Away! away!
The green has won the honour of the day.
Oh ! should the sports be for one year forborne.
Rome would, in tears, her loved diversion mourn ;
And that would now a cause of sorrow yield,
Great as the loss of Canute's fatal field.'

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 129

Did not Lateranus, the consul, drive his own chariot by
night, and, when the year of his office was out, publicly
in the streets of Rome, by day ?

" But really, uncle, joking apart — for I have seen you
smile at my panegyric on ancient coachmen — I think you
must admit that the fashion for gentlemen driving their
own coaches, which is now becoming so prevalent, will, in
time, do much good. It has caused them to notice and
take under their protection, public, or ' road coachmen," as
they are called, a most useful body of men, and ' scientific '
in their calling — you may smile at the epithet, and yet it
is their due — who will be much the better for coming more
in collision with their superiors, and receiving, whilst
imparting, instruction. It is quite evident, and I have
heard not only my father, but Dr. Chapman and Mr.
Egerton say, the coachmen on our road are wonderfully
improved since Sir John and the Hon. Mr. Conolly have
been so much at work amongst them with their own
teams. The latter, indeed, has put together and published
a few general maxims, not only relating to their situation
and practice, as coachmen, but to their conduct as men ;
and they will, no doubt, be the means of saving the lives
of many persons, who travel in the course of the year.
Now, if he were not himself a coachman, he could not
have done this, at least, with any effect."

" Certainly not, I admit," replied Mr. Raby, " any more
than .Eschylus could have celebrated the triumph.-? of his
country on the stage, so perfectly as he has done, had he
not fought and bled on the plains of Marathon ; for I
suppose I must be classical here as well as yourself. But
tell me, Frank, do you mean to be an amateur coachman,
as well as a fox-hunter?"

" I should like it," answered Frank, " if my means
allowed me, but not else ; for we should pay too dear for
any pleasure, I should think, if it brings us into pecuniary
difficulties."

" Good, my dear Frank," resumed the uncle ; " these
are honeyed words of yours to niy ears."

"Why, you know, uncle, coaching can be enjoyed for
six months in the year, in which there is no hunting ;
and I should like never to be quite idle, if I could help
it. I think lounging away one's time, at a watering-
place, in the summer, must be poor fun for a young man ;
besides, the having a team of one's own affords oppor-

130 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

tunities of dispensing much pleasure amongst our friends
and acquaintances."

" And what think you of racing, now you have seen it
in perfection ? " asked the uncle, with some expression of
anxiety on his countenance.

" I like racing much," replied Frank ; " as Mr. Egerton
says, ' it is a stimulus, acting on the generous ambition
of men and horses, and, as regards the latter, most
serviceable to the country, but only a fit pursuit for
persons of large means ; ' consequently it will be out of
my power to indulge myself in it. As an object of gain,
I think very lightly of it ; I have been told there is no
instance on record of a gentleman getting money by it, on
the long-run ; and we have one instance to the contrary,
at this time, at Christchurch ; at least, there is a very
good fellow, by the name of Fairfax, who says he shall be
£100,000 a worse man for his father having been all his
life on the turf."

Mr. Raby looked serious at the conclusion of these
remarks ; but there was something in the expression of
his features which implied dissatisfaction, if not disgust,
at the idea of a young man, who had gone through Eton
school, laying his account in driving four horses on a
turnpike road — in which the most ignorant fellow in
the country might excel him — as a means of employment
in after-life ; or, to use his nephew's words, to prevent his
lounging away his time in idleness at some watering-place
in the summer. He remained silent, however, perhaps
from the recollection of the little use he himself had made
of a first-rate education, and of first-rate talents as well.

The arrival of the postman with some letters put an
end to the conversation. One of them was from Mr.
Raby to his brother, who read the following extract from
it to his nephew : — " Frank has informed me of the
pleasant manner in which he has passed his time in
London, Ascot, &c. ; and likewise of the high treat you
afforded him, by asking those Leicestershire sportsmen
to meet him at dinner. As for Ascot, the less practical
information he brings with him from thence, the better,
for it is not my wish that he should attain a relish for
the turf ; but, as he is bent on being a fox-hunter, I am
glad you have exhibited to him, in the persons of your
Melton friends, some of the best specimens of that class
of men. I knew Mountford's father well, and there was

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 131

no better man ; and I hear an excellent account of Lord
Edmonston, from an old friend of his mother, who visited
me lately. Of Raymond I know nothing but from what
I see of him in the newspapers, as the owner of a good
stud of race-horses, and a successful gentleman jockey at
Bibury and other places. His being an acquaintance of
yours, however, is a guarantee for everything that is
correct ; for there must be something in a man beyond
being a mere sportsman, to give him access to your table.
These are the sort of men, then, that I wish Frank to be
acquainted with ; and as I hear very good accounts of
him, it is not improbable that he may, one of these days,
know a little more of them, by accepting Somerby's
invitation to spend a month at Melton Mowbray, and see
'the cream of the thing' with foxhounds, under the
direction of the famous Meynell, which, I flatter myself,
he has seen with harehounds, under the management of
your humble servant. You must be aware that the
expenses of a trip of this sort would be considerable, and,
under general circumstances, somewhat unjustifiable, as
regards a younger brother ; but you must also be aware
that, beyond the expenses of his education, and the
purchase of a few books, Andrew costs me nothing. His
pony is all that he requires ; and his sister tells me he
must be saving money out of his annual allowance. Now,
as our grandfather and father were both sportsmen, and
I have myself some pretensions to the appellation, I
should wish Frank to become one, and be somewhat
conspicuous as such, for which I think he is qualified.
As for his passion for driving coaches, that will most
likely wear away ; he imbibed it from Inkleton, who is
an excellent person withal, and certainly has done much
good in his neighbourhood, in liberalizing — at all events,
humanizing — a set of men, I mean coachmen and guards,
by coming so much into collision with them on their own
ground. It seems the ' passion for the ribbons,' as it is
called, is very much gaining ground ; that it is encouraged
by the Prince ; that his friend Sir John Lade has, at this
time, seventeen chestnut coach-horses, with whole legs, in
his stable ! and that a regular driving club is in agitation,
patronised by John Warde, Prouse, Oakover, Bamfylde,
and some others, who are great patrons of the road.
Prouse, I hear, has already composed a song for the
occasion, in which every individual coachman, guard, and

132 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

horsekeeper, between London and Exeter, is introduced by
name and character. I fancy I see you smile ; neither can
I avoid doing so myself at the recollection of such absur-
dity ; but there is no harm in it, after all ; au contrairc,
they say, good will be the result. If so,floreat Auriga."

" Well, Frank," observed the uncle, " I know not
whether I am not myself of the same opinion with your
father. We have to thank an amateur of ' the ribbons,'
as you call amateur coachmen, for the present improved
mode of conveying our mails. I allude to Mr. Palmer,
who suggested that they should be carried by coaches,
drawn by four horses, contracted for by Government, and
guarded, instead of in the old mode by a boy on horse-
back ; and his plan was carried into effect in 1784. He
assured ministers that Government would be put to a
very little additional expense, inasmuch as the coach
proprietors would have a strong inducement to contract
for conveying the mails at a cheap rate, on account of
the additional recommendation to passengers their coaches
would thereby acquire, in point of security, regularity,
and despatch. Strange to say, however, although Govern-
ment approved of this plan, and the public in general
were satisfied of its utility, yet, like all new schemes,
however beneficial they may promise to be, it met with a
strong opposition in some quarters. It was represented
by a number of the oldest and ablest officers and clerks
in the post-office, not only as impracticable, but dangerous.
Notwithstanding this opposition, powerful as we may
suppose it to have been, it was at length established, and
gradually extended to different parts of the kingdom,
chiefly by the exertions of country gentlemen, who took
an interest in the coaches which were running on the
various roads in their neighbourhood. It soon appeared
that not only was the revenue improved by the intro-
duction of this system, but that a prodigious saving of
time was the effect of it. For example : previously to
the extension of it to Scotland, the mails were eighty-two
hours on the road from London to Edinburgh, and eighty-
five from Edinburgh to London ; and, subsequently, the
time has been shortened to sixty-two in each case." l

" I am happy to hear this account from you," observed
the nephew, " and I will retail it to Sir John when I see
him ; but will you have the kindness to inform me when
1 It has since been reduced to forty-four hours.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 133

the conveyance of letters by post, as the term is, com-
menced in the world 1 I have often heard the subject
discussed, but neA^er satisfactorily so."

"You have imposed a task upon me," answered the
uncle, " that I scarcely know how to perform ; but I
imagine the case to have been something like this : —

"In the early periods of society, communication between
the different parts of a country must always be rare and
difficult ; individuals, at a distance, had little occasion for
mutual intercourse ; and, when such communication was
found necessary, special messengers were employed. As
order and civilization advanced, occasions for correspon-
dence multiplied. The sovereign, for instance, found it
requisite to transmit orders and laws to every part of his
kingdom ; and for this purpose he made use of messengers
or ' couriers,' as they are now called, to whom he
committed the charge of forwarding his despatches. But,
without stations in the way, where could these messengers
find refreshment for either themselves or their horses ]
Experience soon pointed out the necessity of ensuring
such accommodations, by erecting, upon all the great roads,
houses, or stations, where the messengers might stop, as
occasion required, and where, for their still greater
convenience, relays of horses were kept in readiness, to
enable them to pursue their journey with uninterrupted
despatch. Thus, these houses were called posts, and the
messenger who made use of them was dignified by the
appellation of a post. Though, at first, the institution was,
no doubt, intended solely for the use of the sovereign and
the necessities of the state, yet, by degrees, individuals,
seeing the benefit resulting from it, availed themselves
of the opportunity to carry on their own correspondence,
and for which they willingly paid a certain rate to the
sovereign. Thus a post-office, of some kind or other,
gradually came to be established in every civilized country,
although we find Cicero lamenting the absence of one in
Italy, in his time. Still they can be traced, I believe, as
far back as the ancient Persians. Xenophon, indeed, tells
us they were invented by Cyrus, on his Scythian ex-
pedition, about 500 years before Christ ; that the station-
houses were sumptuously built, with accommodations
for many men and horses ; and that every courier, on his
arrival, was obliged to communicate his despatches to the
post-master, by whom they were immediately forwarded

134 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

again. Herodotus mentions the singular fact that, from
the shore of the jEgean Sea to Susa the capital, there were
111 stages for posts, each a day's journey distant from the
preceding.

" It does not, I believe, clearly appear," continued Mr.
Eaby, " in what manner, or when, posts were established
among the ancient Greeks ; and, although they are known
to have existed among the ancient Eomans, it is difficult
to trace the period of their introduction among either.
Suetonius, however, assures us that Augustus instituted
posts along all the great roads of the empire ; and it is
also asserted that they were known in the days of the
republic, when posts, and post- stations, called statores and
stationes, were established by the senate. The epistolary
correspondence of antiquity, however, was probably at
no period so extensive as to require or maintain post-
offices on the footing of modern posts for the mere con-
veyance of letters. It is in later times only, when the
extension of commerce gave occasion to frequent com-
munication, that those establishments are to be found
complete. The institution of them in modern history
appears to be in the year 807, by the Emperor Charlemagne,
but we hear little of their being regularly established in
England until the time of James the First. In the time
of Charles the First, rates of postage were fixed ; and it
is rather a curious fact, that the allowance to postmasters
on the road, for horses employed in these posts, was fixed
at twopence-halfpenny per mile ; which is, I believe, the
exact sum now paid to the proprietors of our mail coaches
for conveying the letter-bags. These posts, however,
extended then only to a few of the principal roads.'''

" And can you tell me when travelling by the use of
post-horses commenced," asked Frank, " for I lately heard
a dissertation on that subject, which came to no satis-
factory conclusion ? "

" At what period the public of any country commenced
travelling post, as the term is, is difficult now to decide.
Post-horses are mentioned in the Theodosian code (de
cursu publico), but I doubt whether any use could be made
of them, except by persons travelling in the service of the
state. At all events, I remember Pliny found himself
compelled to ask permission of his government to avail
himself of their services to carry his sick wife. In the
year 1548, horses for riding post were let out in England

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 135

at a penny per mile ; but when posting by carriages
commenced, it is not in my power to determine. I think
somewhere about the same time, although to a very limited
extent. It is, indeed, only within these last twenty years
that English gentlemen have desisted from the practice of
what is termed riding post from their country seats to
London, good hackneys being provided for themselves and
servants on the roads."

" And not a bad way of travelling," observed Frank ;
" next to a seat on a coach-box, behind good horses, I
should prefer it to any other."

" Very good," resumed the uncle, " for gentlemen of a
certain age, and of certain personal dimensions ; but
it would hardly have suited me. It was all very well,
however, for gentlemen to travel in this way, because they
could go just as far in the course of the day as they felt
inclined to do ; and no doubt but, by the change in the
action of the muscles, the result of changing the horses,
they could travel a long way without feeling fatigued, if
in the previous habit of fast riding. But there is one
practice amongst our noblemen and country gentlemen
which they carry to the verge of cruelty. I allude to
their making their servants ride post-horses, after their
carriages, when they travel post, arid often to the extent of
from 200 to 300 miles, with very little intermission. This
is a system that ought to be done away with, and no
doubt will soon be remedied, as it is calling too severely
on the personal exertions of servants." 1

" Allow me to ask you," said Frank, " now that we are
on the subject of the road, what distance of ground ought
to be implied by the word mile, for I have heard many
disputes on the subject 1 "

"A dispute on this subject," replied Mr. Raby, "is
immediately settled by a reference to different countries.
An English statute mile is eighty chains, or 1760 yards,
that is, 5280 feet ; but reckoning in geometrical paces
(60,000 of which make a degree of the equator), it stands
thus in relation to that of other European countries ;
England, 1200 paces ; Scotland and Ireland, 1500 ;
Italy, 1000 ; Eussia, 750 ; Germany, 4000 ; Hungary,
6000. Thus, a friend of mine, travelling in Germany,

1 It is scarcely necessary to observe, the placing rumbles, or
dickeys, on the hinder part of gentlemen's carriages, has caused
the abandonment of this system of servants riding post.

136 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

arrived in a town, at the edge of night, by a diligence, on
his road to visit a friend ; and on being informed that his
house was only a ' mile distant,' he set off to walk. Guess
his surprise, then, on finding that he had to walk nearly
four miles of the measure of his own country. There
were no less than four distinct French leagues, varying
from 1500 to 3000 paces ; neither of them, I believe,
adopted now. Nevertheless, ask twenty Frenchmen what
is the extent of a modern French league ? and nineteen of
the twenty will be unable to tell you. It is generally
supposed to be 3000 geometrical paces, or three English
miles, but I believe the case to be this : — twenty-five
French leagues make seventy miles, which renders the
length of ground five miles less, in that given number of
leagues, than if the leagues were exactly three English
miles. Then, again, among the ancient Romans there
was the like confusion respecting this measure of distance,
commonly called a mile. It was generally expressed by the
words mille passus, a thousand feet; but the exact extent of
it is by no means defined. One author makes it to consist
of seven stadia ; Plutarch, little short of eight ; Strabo
and Polybius, just eight. The reason of this discordance
seems to be, the difference between the Grecian and the
Roman foot, the first-named being the greatest. The
Romans, however, had a stone (' lapis ') — which we call the
' mile-stone,' at the end of each mile, the number marked
on it denoting the distance from Rome. Augustus,
indeed, erected a gilt pillar in the forum of that city, at
which all the public roads, or ' ways,' of Italy, dis-
tinguished by stones, were terminated ; and the same
was afterwards done in the provinces. Hence the
traveller would find tertius lapis on one denoting three ;
centesimus lapis, a hundred miles," &c.

CHAPTER VIII

Rural life in hall and field : a ball and a wound (consequences alike
common in love and war).

THE period of our hero's brief visit to the metropolis
of all that is gay and voluptuous having expired, he
set out again for Amstead Abbey, where his arrival was

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 137

hailed with joy by all parties, and by none more than
Sam Perren and the huntsman. But Frank Raby came
under the denomination of " one whom everybody likes,"
a characteristic which, indeed, he preserved to the last
day of his life.

Shortly after his return to the Abbey, a grand enter-
tainment was given by a neighbouring Baronet — intended
to have been given under the canopy of heaven, in his
beautiful grounds ; but a shower of rain making its
appearance — which caused his lady to declare she had a
great mind to go and live in that country where no rain
falls — the company adjourned to the mansion-house, which,
had ample means of accommodating them. A ball, at
night, was the result, and as it was the first at which our
hero had appeared since he had assumed the manly gown,
he was an object of some interest in the assembly.

" What a fine young man Frank Raby is become ! " was
the remark overheard in one quarter.

"He has a very manly appearance, in addition to his
good looks," was whispered in another.

" How like a gentleman he looks ! " in a third.

" There appears to be no affectation about him," in a
fourth.

" God never made a coxcomb worth a groat," muttered a
gouty old gentleman, who overheard the last encomium ;
•' there never was a bad Raby yet, and I think Frank will
keep up the charter, as well as his brother Andrew."

" Oh ! " remarked a fair lady, who had two daughters in
the room, " / think Andrew is superior of the two. It is
true, his health is delicate, and requires care, but he is a
most amiable young man, and of a more intellectual turn
of mind than his younger brother. For my own part, I
do not know whether or not I exactly like Frank Raby ;
I think his father has acted wrong in letting him be so
much with Sir John Inkleton, Avho, we know, although a
good-hearted young man, has some strange propensities,
and is also very extravagant. I am told he spends a
thousand a year amongst coachmen and guards, and I
hear that he has made Frank Raby as fond of coach-
driving and fox-hunting as he himself is. If Frank were
the elder, instead of the younger, brother, all this would
not be so material ; but as his chief dependence, to pursue
such expensive pleasures, is on his uncle, I wish he may
not place it on a broken staff. I know Mr. Beaumont

i38 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Raby well, and surely a person of his high literary
attainments, and great personal accomplishments, and
living in such good London society, must think very
lightly of all such pursuits. I have, indeed, heard him
say as much as that he wished both his nephews to
distinguish themselves at Oxford, if not to carry honours
(which you know was his own case), and then to assume
high stations in the senate (which you know was, un-
fortunately, not his case, not from want of ability, but
from a natural and insuperable indolence) when they
make their appearance in the world. As to my valued
friend, Lady Charlotte, I am quite sure she is much
pained at the accounts she hears of Frank's hunting and
riding j and Andrew told my daughter Jane, the other
day, that he has already been in scrapes, connected with
them, at Oxford."

" All very fine theory of yours, my dear madam," said
the gouty old gentleman, "but doings and sayings are
wide apart. No one knows Beaumont Raby much better
than I do, and no one esteems some parts of his character
more. All know his literary, as well as his personal,
accomplishments to be of the first order; at the same
time, where can we find, in proportion to his means, a
much more useless member of society ? It is true, he
sends his money to Italy, to enrich a country which owns
him not as her son, and thereby may be said to encourage
the fine arts ; but, with the exception of the benefit
arising from the necessary disbursement of his fine
income, what good does he do for his own ? With talents
which might have made him one of the resources of his
country, he sits by, and looks on at the difficulties that
oppose it, all his energies being relaxed and absorbed in
what may be called the effeminacy of refinement. But
why all this ? Merely because he was averse, from his
youth, to those manly pursuits which you condemn, and
which he now finds out, though too late, would have
saved him — as they have his brother — from those almost
insupportable bodily inconveniences he at this time endures.
Then look at my own case. My wife entreated me to
leave off hunting with my friend Raby's harriers, on two
accounts : first, she feared I should break my neck,
emphatically reminding me that the key of the cupboard
was in my pocket ; and, secondly, that, as a clergyman,
it was improper in me to hunt or shoot. It was in vain

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 139

that I referred her to the book of Genesis, to show that
hunting was ordained by the Almighty Himself, and also
pursued by the best of men. Then I must not shoot, for
my neighbour, Lord Longden, did not like it, and it
would prevent his giving me the living of Branton, which,
you well know, he gave to a distant relation only last
year, although I hung up my gun, and gave away my
dogs, seven years back. My case, therefore, is that — more
from the fear of displeasing a great man, than offending
my God — for I cannot look upon Him as so severe a judge
— I have done myself all this disservice. I am punished
in this world, from a vain apprehension of being punished
in the next ; I am become a cripple, by disease produced
by an inactive life, and am, half my time, useless to my
parishioners from that cause alone. It is now too late to
remedy all this ; but rather would I incline to the senti-
ment of Confucius, that he who finds out a new pleasure,
provided it be harmless, is one of the most useful members
of society, in a highly civilised country like our own."
The ball commenced ; —

" Music arose, with its voluptuous swell ;
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spoke again ; "

and our hero was not long in selecting the partner of his
choice. Like Merion, in the Iliad, also, he distinguished
himself by his dancing, a qualification hardly to have
been looked for in one who might have been disposed to
have held that accomplishment cheap. But such was not
the case. It was enough for him that it was an accomplish-
ment, and one necessary for a gentleman ; and although
it could not have been said of him, what Shakspeare says
of the dancing-master, that " his grace was only in his
heels,1'' he had taken some pains to improve himself in the
elegant and fascinating art. But who was the object of
his choice at this gay ball, where were assembled all the
youth and beauty of the neighbourhood, that the higher
class of society could boast of? Was it a young lady in
her teens, about his own age, and one who, like himself,
had just made her debut in the world 1 It was not. He
had selected a young and beautiful married woman for his
partner, and who, although of character pure and spotless,
seemed somewhat pleased by the choice. The dance con-
cluded, he led her to her seat, and again made his election.
But there was something in his manner,at this moment, that

140 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

might not have been regarded by a common observer, but
which attracted the eye of Lady Charlotte, and also of his
ci-devant tutor, who happened to be seated by her side.
There did not appear to be that gaiety in his demeanour,
that earnest admiration of his partner, young and elegant
as she was, that he had exhibited whilst standing opposite
to Mrs. Denham — for that was the young matron's name ;
neither was he seen approaching her, as in the other case,
for the purpose of exchanging words, or we might perhaps
say, thoughts. All this, however, would have been passed
over, but for some after-occurrences which had less chance
of escaping the notice of his lynx-eyed observers — for such
are all mothers, if not all tutors, over young persons of
both sexes at a ball.

In the dance previous to entering the supper-room, our
hero was again seen leading out Mrs. Denham, and
afterwards appeared seated by her at the supper-table.
Neither did his attentions stop here. When her carriage
was ordered, it was he who handed her into it, and that
of his own family being the next in the rank of those
about to depart, he entered it with these words on his lips :

" Well, Lady Charlotte (to his mother), I daresay you
will be glad to get home, for you have had a fatiguing
day of it. But, Emma (to his sister), was it not a
delightful ball ? Is not that Mrs. Denham a beautiful
creature ? I am so glad Sir John introduced me to her."

"She is," replied Lady Charlotte, " and " — laying some
emphasis on the first epithet — "as good as she is beautiful.''

" What a spoon you must be," continued Frank, to his
elder brother, " to dance with those two ugly sisters, and
that Miss Johnson, who is old enough to have been your
mother, when there were so many pretty women in the
room. For my own part, I think dancing, unless with
a pretty woman for a partner, one of the greatest of all
bores. In fact, pretty women and good suppers are, with
me, the only inducement to go to balls."

" Some of your Christchurch notions," said Lady
Charlotte, "or else those of your friend Sir John. But I
know no one fonder of a ball than he is, and you always
see him dancing away as if "

" Yes," resumed our hero ; " but always with a pretty
woman. I have heard him say, he dislikes an ugly
woman in a ballroom as much as he would an ugly
leader in his coach. He swears he never vet saw one who

had any action that was not good-looking, either in one
place or in the other."

" Ah," resumed Lady Charlotte ; " Sir John's tongue
runs fast, as, Dr. Johnson says, the race-horse does when
he carries a light weight ; but are you quite sure, Francis,
he would not marry that little ugly heiress, whose fine
estate joins his own ? :;

" No," answered Frank, " not if he was sure that, without
her and her estate, he could never sit behind the bars, or
his own coach, again."

" There you go again, Frank," observed Lady Charlotte
laughingly, " to the stable, as usual, for your allusions.''

"And did not you go thither, also, my dear mother, for
your simile — at all events, to the race-horse ? " rejoined
her son.

" I believe I did," replied the mother ; " but I do not
wonder at my having done so ; for when you are at home,
and especially when Sir John is at the Abbey, I hear of
nothing else but horses, hounds, and coach-boxes, leaders,
wheelers, and so forth. Still I like Sir John, with all his
foibles, but shall tell him, the next time I see him, not to
be introducing you to pretty married women."

Frank said nothing in answer to this remark, turning
off the conversation to his sister, whom he asked, in a
jocular mood, whether either of her partners had made a
tender impression upon her heart, insinuating, at the
same time, that that of their brother Andrew must
necessarily have escaped unscathed in the assault, from
the very ineffective strength of the batteries.

It has been often asserted that, amongst the infirmities
of human nature, men take some pleasure in creating a
feeling of jealousy towards a rival, in their wives, merely
because it occasions the frequent mention of the name of
the lady who may, to a certain extent, have supplanted
them in their affections. One thing, however, is quite
beyond doubt ; namely, that men — young men especially —
are perpetually given to introduce subjects that may lead
to the mention of, or allusion to, the object of theii
attachment and love. And such was the case with Frank
Raby. It would be useless to disguise the fact, that the
personal charms of Mrs. Denham had made an impression
on our hero ; and the words " Mrs. Denham said this,"
and " Mrs. Denham thought that," were almost perpetually
on his tongue, at least, as often as opportunity occurred to

142 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

him. And what excuse can be made for his indulging
himself in the anticipation of feasting on forbidden fruit ?
None, save the almost irresistible power of a beautiful
woman on a heart so young as his ; and the following is
the description he gave of Mrs. Denham, to one of his
Christchurch friends, on his return to Oxford, after the
vacation : —

"She is," said he, "just what, to my eye, a beautiful
woman should be. Her person is of an advantageous
stature, very well proportioned, and not too tall. Her
hair is black as jet, with more of nature than art in the
arrangement of it ; her eyes, neither quite black nor yet
grey, contain more sweetness than fire. Her complexion
inclines to the pale, though it does not want freshness.
There is, in fact, a mixture of the lily with the rose, and
a clearness and delicacy of skin which is essential to beauty
in a woman. Her words and actions are full of grace, and
there appears a sweetness of temper in her manner and
demeanour, that must engage the affections of every one.
Then there is a feature in her person which I greatly
admire, and that is, the form of her hand and arm. By
heavens, they might be copied for the portrait of the
white-armed Juno ; and her bust altogether would have
done for a Phidias or a Praxiteles. And in her, even is
an imperfection created a beauty. She has a slight hesita-
tion in uttering her words, which, if she were niy wife, I
would not have removed on any account. And yet I can
hardly describe to you the effect it has, but it is somewhat
like this : — it gives a simplicity of expression, delightful
in anyone, but irresistibly so in a pretty woman ; a sort
of confiding manner about it, which, although it cannot
be described, you could not but be sensible of ; and to the
expression of sentiments of endearment, what force must
it give ! "

"And what kind of a man is the husband of this fine
woman ? " asked Goodall, for it was to him that Frank
Raby was unbosoming himself. " I hope he is deserving
of the treasure."

" Not he, indeed," replied our hero ; " he appears
scarcely conscious of possessing such a jewel. If I had
such a wife, I think I should never be able to keep my
eyes off her person ; whereas, although she was the finest
and best-dressed woman at the ball at which I met her, I
never once saw him even look upon her — certainly not in

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 143

admiration. Then I am told he is equally indifferent at
all times. She likes riding, and is a beautiful horse-
woman, but a groom is her general attendant. She likes
female society, but her husband does not, and few of her
sex are asked to visit her. She is musical, but I am told
he never quits the dining-room in time to hear a note
of it."

"He is in danger, I think," observed Goodall, with a
significant wink of the eye ; "and especially if you "

" Nonsense," observed Frank ; "a more virtuous woman
never lived. I confess I was much stricken with her that
night at the ball, and danced twice with her. Perhaps I
may never see her again ; and perhaps it will be well for
me that I never do. In fact, when I handed her into her
carriage, I seemed to wish to bid her a final adieu ; and
as it drove from the door, with her cold-hearted husband
by her side, I muttered to myself those lines : —

' Since thoti would'st needs, bewitched by some ill charms,
Be buried in those monumental arms ;
All I can say is, may the earth lie light
Upon thy tender limbs : and so good-night.' "

But to return to the party at the Abbey.

" I am somewhat uneasy," said Lady Charlotte to Mr.
Egerton, after a few days had expired since the night of
the gay ball, " about your friend Francis. I really think
the silly boy fancies himself in love with that beauti-
ful, and, I believe, very excellent person, Mrs. Denham.
Emma tells me he is always talking about her, and he says
he would have his right arm cut off, on condition that he
could make her his wife. It is truly ridiculous ; but he
seems to verify the proverb of ' love at first sight ' — for,
although he never saw Mrs. Denham before, he was
evidently smitten, as the term is, by her charms. For-
tunately Mr. Raby knows nothing of the matter, and God
forbid he should ; but as you are somewhat aware of it,
as well as myself, I wish you would take an opportunity
of giving him a lecture on the subject. He is too well
disposed, I am sure, to harbour dishonourable intentions
towards anyone ; but the fact of his having the name of
the lady so perpetually in his mouth, is extremely unjust
towards her, and the very thought of it makes me wretched.
Oh," continued Lady Charlotte, somewhat angrily, " I will
give Sir John a trimming if he introduces either of my

144 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

sons again to a married woman, merely because she is
pretty. There has been enough of mischief in my family,
on that score, already, without Francis adding to the
stock."

" I am glad, my dear Lady Charlotte," said Mr. Egerton,
" that you have mentioned this subject to me, which, I
doubt not, is a painful one to you, as, indeed, it is to my-
self. I have a strong regard for Francis, and should
extremely lament that one of the first acts of his manhood
should cast a slur over his character, which it might never
be in his power to remove. That he has acted impru-
dently, at all events thoughtlessly, in this affair, there is his
own evidence to show. In one of those freaks in which
human nature sometimes indulges, he has inconsiderately
yielded to the impression made upon him by a few hour:-'
intercourse with, certainly, a very lovely woman, but one
whose situation in life forbids her ever becoming his wife,
unless under circumstances which no rational man would
anticipate, much less speculate upon — the age of her
husband being not more than half a dozen years beyond
his own."

" Then you really think the silly boy fancies himself
all at once enamoured with another man's wife ? " inter-
rupted Lady Charlotte, with marked anxiety in her
countenance.

" Why," replied Mr. Egerton, " if it were justifiable to
make a joke of a subject so serious as this, it might create
a smile were I to tell you in what way my suspicions have
been confirmed. Whilst Francis was under my tuition,
his constant objection to verse-making was, that he had
no poetry in his soul ; in fact, that Nature had forbidden
his being a poet, and, consequently, his attempt at mak-
ing verses was a futile one. But mark the change ! Xo
sooner does the ' silly boy,' as your ladyship so properly
styles him, fancy himself in love, than he likewise fancies
himself a poet."

" Surely," exclaimed Lady Charlotte, " he has not been
writing verses to Mrs. Denham ? "

" I hope not," replied Mr. Egerton; "but that he has
been exercising his newly-acquired talent on Mrs. Denham,
I fear there is no reason to doubt ; and I speak from
somewhat like ocular demonstration of the fact. Happen-
ing to enter his room yesterday afternoon, in search of a
book I had lent him, I saw some scraps of paper on his

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 145

table, on which, in spite of erasures and alterations, I
could decipher the following lines (the fair copies, I pre-
sume, he may have put into his pocket, intending, as may
be also presumed, to throw the rough ones into the fire).
The first ran thus : —

' Sweet's the light of morning breaking

O'er the dew-bespangled mead ;
Sweet the night-breeze, hardly shaking

In its course the pliant reed.
Sweeter far the smile enlightening

Beauty's soft and sparkling cheek ;
And the sigh love's ardour heightening,

With its breath so soft and meek.'

" Then scrap the second contained these : —

' Thou hast an eye of tender blue,
And thou hast locks of sable hue,
And cheeks that shame the morning's break,
And lips that might, for redness, make

Roses seem pale beside them :
But whether soft or sweet as they,
Lady, alas ! I cannot say,

For / have never tried them.

' Yet thus created for delight,
Lady ! thou art not '

" He proceeds no further ; vulgarly speaking, there is
a hole in the ballad. But, turning over the paper, I
found that his muse had been again at work, and had
again failed. Even love, I fear, will not make Francis a
poet. He had scribbled thus : —

' The music ceased, the last gay dance was o'er,

And one by one the brilliant beauties fled ;

The garlands vanished from the frescoed floor,

The nodding fiddler hung his weary head ;

' And I, a melancholy single man,

Retired to mourn my solitary fate ;
I slept awhile, but o'er my slumbering ran
The sylph-like image of my darling mate.

' I dreamt of mutual love, and Hymen's joys,
Of happy moments and connubial blisses ;
And then I thought of little girls and boys,
The mother's glances, and the infant's kisses.

' But when I woke, how changed appear'd the scene ;
I found '

10

146 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

"Here he stopped, with the words — 'Query, look out
mate in Johnson ; fear it won't do for partner at a ball.
Implies partner for life, and that can't be. The devil
take '"

" Well, really, Mr. Egerton," said Lady Charlotte, " this
farrago of nonsense is almost laughable. However, al-
though, no doubt, another term at Christchurch will cure
him of his ' love at first sight,' still, I wish you would talk
seriously to him on the subject, and warn him of the con-
sequences of indulging a guilty passion."

"That I will certainly do," replied Mr. Egerton, "at
the first convenient opportunity ; and also tell him not to
indulge in the sudden inspiration of his muse, unless he
can turn it to a better account. I think, however, I know
your son well enough to persuade myself that the present
outbreak is but the mere ebullition of youthful blood, and
that a little cool reflection will restore him to his senses.
First, his heart ran away with his tongue ; and then, his
tongue ran away with his heart."

Not many hours elapsed before the wished-for oppor-
tunity arrived, during a stroll through the shrubberies,
for Mr. Egerton to fulfil the promise he had made to Lady
Charlotte ; which he did with both grace and feeling :
pointing out to Frank the folly, to say the least of it, of
this newly-born fancy, and requiring from him a pledge
that he would think no more of Mrs. Denham, further
than as a common acquaintance of the day ; nor continue
to mention her name so lightly as he had lately done.
This pledge Frank willingly gave, and a circumstance
shortly afterwards occurred to put the seal upon the same.
Mr. Denham's father died, in consequence of which he
removed his family to a distant part of England, and our
hero and the beautiful Mrs. Denham never met again.

There is little more to record of the proceedings of the
long vacation, fishing and shooting being the principal
amusements of that period — at all events, with young
men who, like Frank Raby, come under the denomination
of sportsmen. Relating to the last-named diversion, one
fact is worth mentioning : — What is called flapper-shoot-
ing was amongst the sports entered into with spirit by
our hero, and, what is very rarely the case, it was not, in
this instance, merely confined to young wild ducks. The
great lake in the park, at Amstead, was also frequented by
teals, which bred in one of its islands in the summer, a

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 147

fact very much doubted by naturalists, and certainly of
rare occurrence in the southern parts of England. With
a brace of well - broken retrievers, flapper - shooting,
whether at ducks or teal, is very good sport, and rendered
valuable by its being seasonable previously to the com-
mencement of game-shooting, to which it of course gives
place.

At partridge-shooting, Frank Kaby was now become an
adept. In fact, there was but little difference, in the
contribution to the bag, between himself and the elder
Perren ; and as for Jem, he bowed to the superiority of
his young master, who, he was heard to say, " he believed
would turn out a capital sportsman, in spite of all that
had been done to spoil him, by sending him to Eton and
Oxford." And our hero, with a gun in his hand, was a
sportsman in the strict sense of that word, and not merely
what, in these times, is more reckoned upon, namely, " a
dead shot." " The latter," as Mr. Cobbett eloquently
expressed himself, in allusion to the admirers of the
modern battue system, "never participates in that great
delight which all sensible men enjoy at beholding the
beautiful action, the docility, the zeal, the wonderful
sagacity of the pointer and the setter ; " but their merit
consists in rarely missing a pheasant which is found for
them by men-beaters, and in slaughtering as many head
of game in a day, as a sportsman, who takes pleasure
in finding them, would be satisfied with in a week.
Pheasants, however, were not, at this period, plentiful
on the Amstead estate, but their rarity increased their
value. There were, in those days, no "sky-rockets of
pheasants," as in the technical language of these, when
a cloud of them rises in a corner of a cover into which
they have been driven, and three or four fall at a shot.

We will now exhibit our hero at the county races, it
being his first appearance on a race-course since he had
visited Ascot during his sojourn with his uncle in
London, the account of which we have detailed. It
appeared that he had brought along with him, from that
aristocratic meeting, a few aristocratic ideas, and, amongst
them, the notion that it was considered very slow indeed
to be a looker-on at any species of diversion without having
an interest in it; and in this case, having no bond fide interest
in the horses — none appearing in his name — he could only
concern himself with their performances. His betting-

148 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

book, then, was produced, and a few speculations entered
in it, though altogether to a trifling amount. This act of
our hero, however, gave birth to a ludicrous incident or
two, which, as a caution to youngsters who venture on
the same slippery ground, it may not be amiss to make
mention of.

"Pray, Francis," said Lady Charlotte to her son, on
observing him, from the window of her coach, familiarly
addressed, on the second day of the meeting, by a person
of doubtful appearance — that is to say, a very ordinary-
looking man, in tolerably good clothes — "who is the
friend who came up to you just now, and seemed so glad
to see you ? "

" Oh," replied our hero, who did not intend to let his
mother into the secret, " he only wanted to speak to me
about one of the horses."

" And that strange-looking old man, on a white horse,
in a harness bridle, who followed you a long way down
the course, apparently in earnest conversation with you,
and carrying a book in his hand ? " continued Lady
Charlotte.

Here was a poser for the young sportsman. He was
above telling an untruth, but was somewhat puzzled for
an off-hand answer to rather a close question.

" A bothering old Irishman, by the name of O'Hara,"
replied Frank, " who has been trying to persuade me, that
he could pick out the winner of the next race, and wanted
to know whether I thought / could do so, also 1 "

" But, Francis," exclaimed his sister, " I saw you all but
quarrelling with some ill-looking man on the other side
of the course ; what could that have been about 1"

" Why, I had better tell you the real state of the case
at once," replied Francis. " The persons you allude to
are all of them members of the most rascally community
upon earth — known by the appellation of black-legs.
They attend all country races ; and, having heard me
offer a few bets yesterday, have been following me about
the course to-day, with the hope of winning my money.
But I shall be very cautious in having anything to say to
them, for two reasons. In the first place, my knowledge
of the horses must be very inferior to that of themselves,
who are intimate with all the trainers and jockeys in the
county ; and in the next, many of them dispute a bet
if they lose it. For example, the man Emma saw me

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 149

disputing with, served me thus : — having won ten pounds
from him yesterday, I went up to him to-day, and said,
very civilly, ' I will thank you for ten pounds ; ' on which
he replied, 'I beg pardon, sir, / have ten pounds to receive
from you.' "

" And did you pay the fellow ? " said Lady Charlotte.

" I did not/' replied Frank, " but I lost the ten pounds
I won from him. Then that old Irishman is, I under-
stand, famous for making wrangles, and disputing bets
which he loses. But the greatest adept of them all, is the
well-dressed rascal you first saw me speaking to. He has
a method of half-shutting one eye, so as to give the
appearance of being blind of it. This device serves him
in two ways. When he makes a bet with a stranger, he
appears blind of an eye, previous to the event being de-
cided ; if the bet is lost, he shows two good eyes, and
the stranger being in pursuit of a one-eyed man to pay
him his money, overlooks him in the crowd, and, of
course, never gets paid. Then, again, I heard of his
doing a very neat thing, the other day, by the help of
this accommodating eye. He lost twenty pounds to a
stranger, on a race, having his eye closed when he made
the bet. On the result being against him, he thus
addressed his antagonist, with his eye wide open : — ' I
believe, sir, I owe you twenty pounds.' ' You mistake
sir,' replied the other, ' I had only one bet on the race,
and that was icith a one-eyed gentleman.' "

" Well, really, Francis," observed Lady Charlotte, " I
think you must be a very great simpleton to have any-
thing to do with such scoundrels ; in fact, it is only
with simpletons that they dare to play such tricks. As
you cannot be a match for them, I hope you will, from
this time forth, have nothing more to do with them."

Our hero made no reply, and so the matter dropped.

The other incident which occurred is of a more harmless
nature. In the days to which I am now alluding, it was
the custom for the public dinners, or " ordinaries," as
they are termed, at race meetings, to be attended by the
gentlemen of rank and wealth in the neighbourhood, as
well as, occasionally, by a few whose situation in life,
although respectable, did not allow of their being in such
good company on any other occasion. Amongst the latter
class was a wealthy young yeoman, fond of racing and
hunting almost to insanity, but who, from his appearance

ISO THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

and manners, would, in these days, be placed at the head
of all the snobs. There was, also, in the room, a gentle-
man in whom he greatly delighted, inasmuch as he was
an owner of harriers and race-horses, and, by his extreme
good-nature and affability, a highly popular character
with the order of which his admirer made one. It
chanced that they sat opposite to each other at the
dinner-table ; and as the youthful blood of the yeoman
waxed warm with wine, he resolved to pay his favourite
Squire a compliment, and, taking courage, thus addressed
the chair : —

" Mr. President, may I be allowed to propose a toast 1 "
" By all means," replied the president.
" Then I will give you — Down-Barton's glory" said the
man, who delighted in hounds and horses, and doated on
the Squire that was the owner of them.

" Down- Barton's glory?" repeated the steward; "I
must beg an explanation of the toast, for I do not com-
prehend its meaning."

" Then, sir, you shall have it," resumed the yeoman ;
" I mean Squire Cranbrook, and there he sits" — (pointing to
his opposite neighbour).

It was now the Squire's turn to pay a compliment, his
health having been drunk with great applause ; and this
is the way in which he did it. Sending for his servant,
he ordered him to go to a druggist's shop, and get half
a pint of syrup of buckthorn, which he was to put into
a bottle containing an equal quantity of claret, and, when
well mixed, to put it by him on the table. " Now, Mr.
President," said Squire Cranbrook, " allow me to give a
toast."

" By all means," answered the steward ; " always happy
to hear from Mr. Cranbrook."

" Then I'll give you the health of my opposite neigh-
bour, Mr. Ridge ways, a good sportsman, and a dear lover
of horses and hounds," replied Squire Cranbrook. " Stand
up, if you please, Mr. Ridgeways (himself also rising from
his seat at the moment, with a bumper of claret in one
hand, and the delightful mixture in the other). Now,
sir," said he to his admirer, " to convince you of the high
sense I entertain of the compliment you have paid me, in
proposing my health in the nattering manner in which
you have done it, we will, if you please, pledge to each
other in a bumper, out of the same bottle."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 151

"I should be delighted, sir," hiccuped the yeoman —
the Squire tilling his (Mr. Kidgeways') glass at the moment.
" And now, sir," continued the Squire, as a still further
proof of sincerity, and my high esteem for you as a
sportsman and gentleman, suppose we take off our glasses
at a chuck, and I'll give the word."

" Delighted beyond measure," replied the head of all
the snobs.

" Gentlemen ! " exclaimed the Squire, " here's the
health of Mr. Ridgeways, a great promoter of sport. — Mr.
Ridgeways' good health — now," and at the word " now,"
the contents of both glasses disappeared.

The sequel of the story is soon told. The operation of
the buckthorn was instantaneous ; and the warm-hearted
yeoman was carried out of the room in a state that need
not, if it could, be described.

CHAPTER IX

Two events occur, of great influence upon the career of the hero :
he takes his degree at Oxford, and loses his brother, whereby
he becomes heir to the goodly domains of Amstead.

WE now proceed to rather an awful period in the lives
of young English gentlemen, and of such, especially,
as may wish to distinguish themselves as scholars — namely,
the taking a degree at college. At the period, however,
to which we are now alluding, between thirty and forty
years back, this was a less serious affair than it now is,
inasmuch as the undergraduates and examining masters
— of Oxford, in particular — were more intimately associated
with college convivialities than they now are ; so much
so, indeed, that not only, in many cases, were the selection
of the master to examine them, and the books in which
they were to be examined, left to the candidate's choice,
but, on the preceding evening, at what is now called,
amongst the vulgar, " a good blow out," at the said
candidate's expense, the very passages in the chosen
authors were pointed out as having been carefully perused
for the occasion.

The sequel to this part of the progress of my hero and
his brother is soon told. Andrew took a first-class degree,

152 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

and Avas highly complimented in the schools ; and Frank
obtained one quite above the average of those taken, or
even tried for, by young gentlemen brought up as he had
been brought up, amongst hounds, horses, gamekeepers,
and coachmen, and whose mind was strongly bent towards
all the uses to which such animals are applied.

Having completed their Oxford " trials," everything
was arranged for the departure of the two Rabys on their
travels, when an unexpected event put a stop to it. The
insidious disease which had long been making silent,
though certain, inroads on the naturally weakly constitu-
tion of the elder brother, now showed itself openly ; and
it was the opinion of his medical attendants that a conti-
nental tour was out of the question, whatever might be
the result of the benign influence of a more temperate
climate than the one in which he was then living. This
step was in contemplation, but met with the same fate, in
being also deemed impracticable, and was, of course, at
once abandoned. In short, the rupture of a blood-vessel
at the lungs, produced by a fit of coughing, brought on a
rapid exhaustion of a body already enfeebled by disease
and weakly from its birth ; and in less than a month from
the day on which that occurrence took place, this talented
and amiable, although somewhat eccentric young man,
was laid by the side of his ancestors in the family vault
of Amstead church.

It is almost needless to remind the reader of the change
that had now taken place in the situation and prospects
of our hero. In the place of his being sure of succeeding
to nothing at the decease of his father, beyond his share
of the money settled on younger children on his marriage,
which, as there were only two, amounted to £15,000, he
now found himself heir-apparent to the entire Amstead
estate, settled by entail on male heirs ; and likewise heir-
presumptive — at least, such had he a right to consider
himself — to the very considerable wealth of his uncle.
The effect of this change very soon became visible ; two
more hunters were talked of, as necessary to hunt with
the foxhounds, the Amstead harriers and " old Dick "
being considered as infra dig., if not absolute bores.
Perren also was spoken to, by the " young Squire," in a
tone somewhat different to what he had been previously
accustomed to from the late "young Squire," or even from
our hero himself. " I will have lots of pheasants in the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 153

' Big Wood,' " said he to him one day ; " and likewise in
' Blackthorn Rough ; ' they will make capital preserves."

" That they sartinly will, Mr. Francis," replied
Perren ; " but where am I to get the pheasants to stock
them with ? I doubt the Squire will not stand the
expense."

" D — n the expense ! " said Francis ; " I will find the
pheasants. I can have as many as I like from a man in
London ; and if the Squire will not pay for them, I
will."

" But the lookers - out, Mr. Francis," resumed the
keeper ; " who is to pay them ? Old Will Hodges and
Jack Barret will have no chance against the poachers,
when our covers are full of pheasants."

" I will find lookers-out," answered our hero, " and some
of the right sort, too. You must draft those two old
cripples, who are quite unequal to their task, and have
long been so."

" Well, to be sure," said Perren, " they are poor creatures
for that piirpose, sir, but you know "

" Yes, yes," exclaimed Francis, " I know what you are
going to say ; they are worn out in our service ; but I
shall not forget that circumstance ; and I will take care
to provide for them, although I believe they have ginned
many a hare in their time, and spent the money they sold
them for in the alehouse."

" Well, to be sure," continued Perren, " they both loves
a drop of drink, as most people who follows field sports
commonly do ; but I never catched them out in selling
any game."

" I daresay not," answered Frank ; " they are both too
sly for that."

Then, again, a conversation took place, in the stable,
between the young Squire and the coachman, somewhat to
this effect : —

" I must make my father get rid of these infernal long-
tailed blacks," said the former ; " they are really only fit
for a London black job."

" You are quite right, sir," observed the latter ; " I am
really quite ashamed of them when we go to the races, or
to dine at Sir John's, or Lord Morton's. In short, the
sarvants make game of me, and tell me I want nothing but
the cold-meat cart behind me ; and one of them — a London
sarvant, who was at the Grange on a visit — axed me if I

154 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

warn't agoing to be coachman to King Pluto ? But I tell
you, Mr. Francis, it's no use speaking to the Squire about
these here old blacks ; it's my lady that will do the busi-
ness. I often hear my lady praising other gentlefolk's
coach-horses ; and I once heard her say she ' wished Mr.
Raby would get a better sort in his stable.' Now you
know, sir, the Squire never refuses my lady anything ;
see what expense he goes to with those tame pheasants,
and that trumpery flower-garden ; I am sure, sir, one word
from my lady would do it."

" Oh, I'll do it ! " said Frank ; " I am determined these
stinking, greasy-heeled brutes shall be drafted, and that
infernal old coach, too ; for you might as well attempt to
drive four horses from a stool, as from that thing called a
box."

Then the old and faithful butler was talked to, much
after this fashion, the first time our hero caught him
alone in his pantry.

" Is your stock of claret low ?" demanded Frank.

" Not particularly so," replied the butler.

"The Squire has got very shy of it, then," resumed
Frank ; " I was quite annoyed on Monday, when Sir
John Inkletou and those gentlemen dined here ; he
never called for it until he had half poisoned them
with his ' old port,' as he calls it, only fit for the
steward's room."

" It is very dear, you know, Mr. Francis ; at least, such
as is drunk in this house ; Carbonell's best. Let me see,
nearly £100 the hogshead, or twelve shillings the bottle ;
a deal of money, sir, to be swallowed at four glasses ! it's
like swallowing gold, Mr. Francis."

" Nonsense," said Francis ; " what if it is 1 — there is
plenty here to pay for it. And the champagne ; how is it
we did not have champagne on Monday?" "Lord ! sir,"
replied the butler, "you would not drink champagne in
such cold weather as this ; it's only fit for the dog-days,
when you want something to cool you." "Well," said
our hero, " these things must be altered, or few of my
friends will come a second time to the Abbey."

Next comes Mrs. Jones, the old housekeeper.

" Upon my word, Mother Jones," said the young Squire
to her, as she was giving out some essentials to the cook,
" you are getting very slack, indeed ; and as for you," ad-
dressing himself to the cook, " it is time to put you on

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 155

the shelf, — not that you must want for anything for the
rest of your life, for you have been an excellent servant.
But, Mother Jones, you are really past enduring. Your
bills of fare are of the most scanty dimensions, and as for
your second courses, you really give us nothing."

" Lord, sir," replied Mrs. Jones, " what can I give you,
at this time of the year, better than you always have 1 —
either hare, woodcock, or snipes, as the keeper brings
them in ; for you know we have no pheasants here, at
least very few."

" We will soon have plenty," said Frank ; " but mind
this, — I have two friends coming to visit me next week,
and as the fathers of each keep excellent tables — indeed,
one of them gives £200 a year to his French cook — I
do hope you and the cook will exert yourselves, and
not let them go home saying they were half-starved at
Amstead."

" Xo one was ever starved here yet," muttered the cook,
a> she walked out of the room, not a little nettled at the
remark ; adding, when she thought she was out of hearing,
— "This comes of your Christchurch job ; but it does not
signify talking, the times get worse and worse. Gentlemen
isn't now what they had used to be, contented with a good
wholesome dinner; a plague on those French cooks, say
I ; they have brought many a good gentleman to the dogs.
I know one of them who "

Here her voice was drowned by persons meeting her in
the passage which led to her scene of action — the well-
stored kitchen — our hero joining with Mrs. Jones in a
hearty laugh at the zeal displayed by the faithful old cook
for the credit of the Amstead kitchen.

Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof : here the con-
versation with this class of domestics ceased ; but on the
following morning it was somewhat alarmingly resumed
amongst those of another description.

" I want to see Mr. Robson," said our hero, and Mr.
Robson (the steward) made his appearance.

" Robson," said Frank Raby, " I want to find out a part
of the park where the ground is very dry and sound, and
quite out of sight of the house ; also within easy reach of
water/'1

" May I ask you, sir," replied Mr. Robson, " for what
purpose you intend to apply such land ? If for plant-
ing "'

156 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" It is not for planting at all," interrupted the young
Squire (for " being planted," perhaps, would have been no
misnomer). " I have some idea of getting two or three
thorough-bred brood mares, in which case half-a-dozen
paddocks will be necessary. The spot should be high and
dry, and in as retired a part as can be found, that the
mares may not be disturbed."

" Have you consulted -the Squire, sir, may I be so bold
to ask 1 " observed the steward.

" Not yet," answered Frank ; " but leave that to me.
Let us walk into the park, and look for the place I
want."

As they were proceeding on their errand, through the
fine and well-timbered park, Perren, the keeper, appeared
in sight. " Give him a holloa, Robson," said our hero ;
and in five minutes Perren was at his young master's side.

" Perren," said he, " I want to have a word or two with
you, as I am about to leave home. You must get rid of
all those slow, lumbering pointers of yours, and, before
next August, be provided with two brace of down-charge
setter?, and a brace of Newfoundland retrievers, for I
shall be in Scotland for the grousing season."

" In Scotland, sir ! " exclaimed the keeper.

" Yes," answered his young master, — strangely altered,
by-the-bye, in the old keeper's eyes since that time last
year. " Sir John, and myself, and young Lord Dauntley,
have taken a shooting-ground of one of the great Scotch
dukes, for which we are to pay £400."

" But the setters, sir," resumed the keeper ; " right good
ones are very difficult to get. And then the money to get
'em with."

" Oh ! leave that to me," continued Frank.

" But the ' down-charge,' sir. I reckon we shall make
a bad job of that, sir : I never zead a down-charge dog
in my life, though I have heared Sir John's keeper speak-
ing of them."

" Oh ! leave that to me," was once more the clincher.
" I shall send them into Cheshire, to old Potts, the
watchmaker, who breaks them for ten pounds apiece."

" Ten pounds for breaking a dog ! " exclaimed the
keeper, with his eyebrows half-way up his forehead, and
his little pig eyes opening as wide as he could stretch
them. " Did you ever hear of such a thing, Mr. Robson 1
— the man must be a big rogue.'"'

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 157

"Not at all," resumed Frank; "it is money well laid
out. Lord Dauntley tells me he can bring four setters,
broke by him, into the field, not one of which will stir,
after the bird is down, till called by its name. For
example — if Dash makes the point, Dash is the first on
his legs again, not one of the others stirring until their
names are called. See what an advantage this gives you
with wounded or scattered birds ! He refused a hundred
guineas for the two brace of dogs."

" Well, to be sure," observed Perren, " his lordship has
a chance to get his money back, but "

" Oh ! botheration to getting the money back, you slow
old fool," said our hero. " Do you look out for two brace
of the best young setters you can find, and leave the rest
to me."

" But the retrievers, sir," resumed the keeper ; " where
shall I "

" Oh ! leave them to me," was the young Squire's reply.
" Lord Dauntley has recommended me to a clog-dealer in
London, who will furnish them to me, but I suppose I
shall have to pay the rascal an infernal price for good
ones."

" Xo doubt, sir," observed the keeper ; " and wouldn't
it be well, sir, first of all, to know that they be good ones ;
for, if they shouldn't be good, I doubt you would have
some trouble to get your money back ? "

" Well, leave that to me," said Frank ; " look you to
the setters ; and now go about your business ; but don't
come home without at least three couple of cocks, as I
want to send two couple to London."

The keeper touched his hat, and walked off ; and, just
as he was beginning to cogitate, was holloaed back by his
young master, who thus somewhat imperiously addressed
him : —

" Oh ! Perren, I forgot to mention one thing to you. I
don't think I shall ever be really fond of coursing. In
the first place, it is too slow a sport for me ; and, in
the next, I think it breeds petty jealousies amongst
the owners of dogs. In fact, I am now about to give
a proof of the latter objection. I am determined that
leather-headed parson, Roberts, shall no longer be the
champion of our coursing meeting. He has now won
the cup three years following, but he must have a check.
Those brindled devils of his will not be hard to beat ;

158 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

therefore, you must look out for some of the best blood
that can be found."

" And where will I get it, sir 1 " demanded the keeper ;
" I knows nobody that has "

" Stop ; never mind the greyhounds, you may leave
them to me, and go on for the present with your own
mongrels, who, I must acknowledge, seldom miss a hare,
although they all run foul," continued our hero : " Lord
Dauntley will be the man to apply to, as he is a member
of the Swaffham meeting. Only mind this, I am deter-
mined to beat that old parson, cost what it may."

Exit Mr. Perren, heaving a deep sigh, and muttering to
himself — " I wish all this may end well."

I have yet one more little "sign of the times" to pro-
duce. The following day was a hunting day with Mr.
Raby, and his harriers went to one of his best places for
sport. One of Frank's horses went with them, but he
himself did not make his appearance at the breakfast-
table. His father ordered him to be summoned, and his
answer was this : —

" Tell my father I have ordered Achilles to be sent to
cover with the hounds, but, as I have got a bit of a head-
ache, I shall not get up just yet. Tell him not to wait for
me ; I will follow him."

The hour of meeting being ten, the harriers had one
good run before our hero made his appearance, which was
at the comfortable, and, with harriers, now usual hour of
twelve. And when he did arrive, there was a something
in his manner that did not exactly please old Dick.

" Where is Inkleton 1 " said he to his father, scarcely
throwing his eye over the pack. At all events, it was not
— as formerly- — " Here's a fine morning, Dick, for a run !
Yoicks ! Bellman and Blossom, you beauties, I hope you'll
show us a tickler to-day." — No ; it was once more —
" Where the devil is Inkleton ? — he promised to be here —
but to be sure it's early yet — to arrange about our horses
sleeping out to-night ; and also about ourselves getting to
the foxhounds to-morrow. It is one of their most distant
covers, thirty miles off at least, but I would not miss it on
any consideration. Confound him, I wish he would come,
for my groom is waiting at the Abbey for orders to send
the General forward." Inkleton at length arrived ; and
the arrangements to go to cover were instantly made, after
this rather comfortable fashion — namely, Frank to dine

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 159

with his friend that evening ; to go the first twelve miles
of the thirty next morning, on his friend's coach-box,
behind four of his greys ; and to put four posters to the
" drag," over the last eighteen. And we may as well give
the events of the day at once ; at least those in which we
are concerned. They found a capital fox ; and on seeing
a person play a solo over a new, stiff, hog-backed, oaken
stile, at the end of fifteen miles, point-blank, and over a
right stiff country to boot, our hero made him an offer of
200 guineas for his horse, which, after some hesitation,
was accepted, Sir John having been previously consulted
as to whence the 200 were to be forthcoming, a point soon
determined upon, Sir John making use of an expression
rather familiar to our hero — namely, "Leave that to
me." In fact, Sir John said, " Let the horse be sent to my
house to-morrow, and I will advance the money, and
with pleasure, for I think you have bought a right good
horse."

But we must " Hark back " to the harriers. They also
found a capital hare, and a capital run was the result.
Our hero not only took the lead, but frequently pressed
upon the hounds ; now and then, indeed, riding abreast of
the leading ones, regardless of old Dick's —

" Pray don't press upon 'em, Mr. Raby " — (it was no
longer " Mr. Francis ") ; on the contrary, he had once the
satisfaction of hearing him exclaim —

" Go along, you yelping curs ; get from under my
horse's feet, or I'll ride over you ! "

But the scent was so good, and the hounds were so good,
that they would not be driven off the line ; and a capital
forty minutes to Lord Morton's plantation was the result,
no one being near to them except Frank Raby and old
Dick, Sir John being upon a hack. But I have not done
with them yet. Seeing Mr. Raby, as he called him,
putting his horse straight at a six-barred white gate, into
his lordship's plantation, which he knew was always
locked, the following soliloquy escaped him : —

" Surely Mr. Raby ain't agoing to jump that gate ! He's
over it, by the Lord ! Well, now I am done ; I never
thought I should have seen the man who could set me
with these hounds ; but I am too old, and so is Clodhopper,
for white plantation gates. Well, I never thought I should
have come to this."

One of the park keepers being at hand, the gate was

160 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

opened, and the first thing that presented itself to Dick,
was our hero, who had jumped some very high paling,
out of the plantation, into the park, standing on his feet
in the middle of the pack, the hare lying dead in their
presence.

" Well, Mr. Raby," exclaimed Dick, on approaching his
young master, and within hearing — with a sort of grin on
his countenance, which I believe is called "laughing on
the wrong side of the mouth " — " I think, sir, you needn't
go to the foxhounds, when you can see such a run as this
with our hounds. And what a horse, to be sure, is that
there Ackillis ! "

" He's only half a good one," said Frank.

"Make so bold, Mr. Raby," observed Dick, "what do
you call a whole good one ? "

" He wants a turn of speed, Dick, as your old Clod-
hopper wants a turn of blood. You see he could not do it
at the last, or you would have been here to save me the
trouble of keeping your hounds at bay."

This speech was " daggers to the soul " of poor Dick,
and all vestige of the "grin" disappeared. In fact, so
dejected was he, in the servants' hall, throughout the
evening — so unusual with him when his hounds had been
showing sport — that he was more than once asked if he
were not ill.

" There is nothing the matter with me," was his reply ;
but on waking from a bit of a snooze on his chair, after
two extra horns of ale, he was heard to sing out —

" Damn that white plantation gate ! "

It might, for a moment, be a matter of surprise in what
way the various discussions which have been detailed,
relating to the schemes and speculations of the young
Squire, reached the ears of his parents ; but when it is
recollected that five servants on the establishment were
involved in them, the thing is easily accounted for.

To begin. " La, Miss Raby," said her maid, when
attending her in her bedroom, the next night, " what do
you think ? — we shall be so gay at Amstead ; Mr. Francis
is going to keep race-horses! Oh, how I do love a race !
Then," continued the Abigail, " he is going to have the
finest greyhounds in the world, and we are all to go to the
coursing meeting, to see him win the cup. But I haven't
told you all yet, miss. The coachman said last night, in
the hall (as the servants' hall is called), that you was no

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 161

longer to be drawn about by those old black horses, with
long tails, only fit for a funeral ; and that Mr. Francis
was going to London to buy four blood bays, as the
coachman, I think, called them."

" I don't believe it, Sophy,1' said Miss Raby.

" It:s true, upon my honour, ma'am," resumed the
Abigail ; " and not only that, but you are to have a new
coach as well, to be built under Mr. Francis's direction.
And I suppose you have heard of his new horse ? "

" Xot I, indeed," was the reply.

" La, miss ; why he bought him out a hunting with the
foxhounds, the day before yesterday, for 300 guineas, and
I heard Jack Wilson ordered by his groom to go to Sir
John Inkleton's to fetch him home to-morrow."

" I never heard a word of it," said the young lady.

" Nor of the house in Scotland neither, miss ? ;:

"Xot a word."

" Oh ! he has taken such a fine house ; that is, it is
between him, Sir John, and Lord Dauntley, I think
they call him ; and they are to give £1000 a year for it,
to shoot grouse and stags upon, and some other things,
whose names I can't remember."

" You astonish me, Sophy," said Miss Raby.

"All, as true as the Bible, miss, I assure you," resumed
the Abigail ; " all the servants in the hall know it,
and "

" But, Sophy, surely Francis must be mad," said the
sister ; " whence is the money to come, to do all this ? "

" Oh, miss," replied Sophy, " that is all right. The
coachman says, he will be bound Mr. Beaumont has given
him £10,000. You know, Miss Raby, he is very rich, and
how fond he is of Mr. Francis."

" I know my uncle is fond of him," replied Miss Raby,
" and that he is rich ; but he is not so fond of parting with
his money, Sophy, as all that comes to. And, pray, have
you heard anything else of my brother? You really
alarm me, Sophy ! "

" Nothing particular, ma'am," answered Sophy ; " only
they were saying last night, in the hall, that Mr. Francis
was going to make strange alterations about the game :
that he was very cross with old Perren, the keeper, about
his dogs, because they would not charge; that he gave
Jack Perren half a guinea for licking young Mr. Hall, of
the Ashes, because he called him proud — Mr. Francis, I
II

162 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

mean, ma'am ; and I heard old Dick the huntsman say he
thought Mr. Francis wasn't easy in his mind about that
lady he used to talk so much about ; for, the last time he
was out with our hounds, he tried to break his neck over
a new white-painted gate in Lord Morton's park."

It is scarcely necessary to say that every word of this
was carefully retailed the next morning to Lady Charlotte,
by her daughter, before her ladyship broke her fast ; and
by her transferred to Mr. Raby, before he ate his dinner.
Now then for the result.

It so happened that, on this evening, there was no male
stranger guest at the Abbey ; and after the ladies left the
dinner-room, Mr. Raby and his only son were left by
themselves, over a bottle of Griffiths's port.

"Well, Frank," said Mr. Raby, "although by Dick's
account you have got too fast for my harriers, I find you
met with your match yesterday with the foxhounds, for
I hear the horses were all very much beat."

" They were, indeed," replied Frank ; " in short, only
one horse had wind left in him to leap a very high stile
at the finish, and I bought him."

"You did right, Frank," said the father; " that is to
say, if you bought him at a reasonable price."

" Two hundred was the price," said our hero.

"A large sum, to be sure," observed Mr. Raby, " but I
suppose a horse that shows such superiority at the end of
a long fox-chase, commands a large sum. I shall order
Robson to give you the money to-morrow, or perhaps a
check on my banker will be preferable, as you will have
to send it to the gentleman by the post."

" The gentleman is paid for the horse, sir," said Frank :
" Sir John lent me the money ; but now we are on the
subject of money, I have a few words to say to you, and a
better opportunity may not, perhaps, present itself, as I
am going from home to-morrow for a week or ten days.
As my poor elder brother is now no longer a charge upon
you, perhaps you will have the kindness to increase
my allowance, for I should be very sorry to find myself
involved in debts which I could not readily pay."

" I am glad to hear you say so," replied Mr. Raby ;
" as for myself, I never had the courage to get into debt ;
but, Frank, have you quite abandoned the idea of going
abroad ? Your uncle is very anxious that you should go.
and I must say I am not a little so myself."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 163

<( I am sorry to thwart the wishes of either yourself or
my uncle," resumed our hero ; " but, upon my word, I do
not see the use of my incurring such an expense. Besides,
in what shall I be better for visiting foreign countries,
when I cannot talk or understand the language of them.
You know Doctor Johnson has put it in black and white
— that he never met with a man who could talk a whit
the better for having been abroad ; and as for writing
the better for it, I do not suppose my scribbling propensities
will ever exceed a few short epistles to my friends. At
the same time, if yourself and my uncle pa rticularly wish
that I should travel, I am ready, though I cannot say
willing, to make the required sacrifice."

" We will drop the subject," said the father ; " I will
never ask a son of mine to do that which I perceive he
is really averse to ; neither is it a point so near to my
heart as to that of your Uncle Beaumont, for reasons
which I have heard him give. I confess, my chief desire
is, that you should learn to fulfil the duties of a country
gentleman and large landed proprietor — not a few, I
assure you — and for which, perhaps, England may, after
all, prove the best school. But, Francis, what is all this
I have heard from Lady Charlotte to-day about your
going to keep race-horses."

" Why, sir," replied our hero, somewhat taken aback ;
" I am very fond, as you know, of the animal, horse, and
have noticed the great pleasure my friend Dauntley takes
in breeding. I was just asking Robson yesterday, as I
was walking with him in the park, what lie thought
would be the expense of a few paddocks for the purpose ;
and likewise, if you did not object, what part of the park
would be the fittest, at the same time not within sight
from the house."

" Paddocks in the park, my dear Frank ! " exclaimed
Mr. Raby ; " I cannot consent to anything of the sort. I
should be sorry to see the pastoral character of this fine
park defiled by a parcel of fiery-red brick walls. Then
you quote your friend Dauntley as a precedent for this
frolic of yours ! You must bear in mind that Dauntley
has twice as many thousands a year as you have hundreds,
and perhaps you have no idea of the expense of a breed-
ing stud on ever so small a scale. I am told that the
annual expense of a mare, including her produce, exceeds
a hundred pounds, saying nothing of the chapter of

164 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

accidents, and the probability of the produce not being
worth as many shillings after another hundred have been
expended upon him. In fact, it is asserted, and I believe
on good authority, that the present Lord Grosvenor,
although a winner of the immense sum of £200,000, is
still a loser by his breeding paddocks, all expenses being
reckoned. Moreover, Frank, although it has been noted
for lovers of all field sports — indeed your Uncle Beaumont
and poor Andrew are the only exceptions within the last
200 years — the name of Raby has never yet appeared to
a race-horse ; nor am I by any means anxious that it
should. A fox-hunter you may be, with my hearty
approbation ; it is getting to the top branch of the tree,
although I had not the nerve to ascend so high ; it is
there, I believe, that perfection is to be found. But I
would not combine the pursuits which are in themselves
so opposite ; it would resemble the mingling of garlands
of roses with the poison of deadly nightshade. But to
the point, Frank ; I will increase your allowance to £800
a year, paid half-yearly ; I will pay for the hunter you
have just bargained for, and for another as good, if you
can find him ; and then I should imagine, with what is
vulgarly termed the run of your own teeth, and those of
your horses and servants at home, when you wish to be at
home, you will not only have no cause for complaint, but
be enabled to make as good an appearance, and enjoy
yourself as much as any other young heir-apparent in this
county, or the next."

Here our hero nodded assent, and afterwards ac-
knowledged the kindness of his father in commonplace
words, which it may not be worth while to repeat. But
a bystander would have observed a something in his
manner at the moment, which too plainly showed the
final result of the conversation was by no means satis-
factory. In fact, though scotched, the snake was not
killed, and Frank said within himself, "If I am not
permitted to breed him, I am determined to have a race-
horse, before I am much older."

Now, as it has been my desire to draw a portrait of Frank
Raby in his own true character — one which, on the whole,
does honour to our nature — I must endeavour not only
to account for, but to smooth down this too apparent
disregard of the wishes of a kind and indulgent parent.
The real truth, then, is this, startling as it may appear : —

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 165

racing has been represented, and justly, in my opinion,
to. be a stimulus acting powerfully on the generous
ambition of man, prompting him to personal exertion,
and highly exciting to superiority. What, then, is the
result ? Why that, as a man now and then violates his
best principles for a woman, he now and then violates
them for a horse. Such, it appears, had been the
impression made on Frank Raby \>y his late intercourse
with Lord Dauntley, who had been introduced to him by
his friend Goodall, by the well-conducted breeding
establishment that he had formed, together with his
temporary success — for he had just won the Oaks, and had
run second for the St. Leger — that he had made a vow to
himself, that, before he was three years older, he would
win a Derby or an Oaks, if money or management could
effect it.

CHAPTER X

Our sportsman has now entered in earnest upon his life. He refuses
a seat in Parliament, and stiidies his cral't with enthusiasm,
opening his first regular Iranting campaign with the Warwick-
shire, under the celebrated Mr. Corbet, and the Pytchley,
under the great John Warde.

ON his return to the Abbey, after a week's absence
on a visit to his friend Lord Dauntley, he found
the following letter from his uncle : —

"HARLEY STREET, January 10, 1802.

" DEAR FRANK, — As I do not expect to see you in
town till the hunting season closes, I write to inform
you, that a friend of mine and your father has intimated
to me his intention of retiring from the fatigues of
parliamentary life in consequence of ill-health, and made
an offer of the borough to me, which, being a close one,
he has, of course, the power to do. My taking it is out
of the question ; but, as you are aware it was very much
my wish that your poor brother should have been in the
House, and the voice of a Raby once more listened to
with attention within its walls — which would certainly
have been the case if that wish had been granted me —
I am particularly desirous that you should accept the prof-
fered boon. It will be an excellent introduction into life,

166 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

and, situated as you now are, I consider it little short of a
point of duty that you should avail yourself of this offer.

" I fancy that I may be met with some objections from
yourself ; indeed, I will at once anticipate them, at the
same time endeavour to remove them. You may tell
me, you have no oratorical talent, but you must allow
me to tell you what you have been before told (nascimur
poetce,fimus oratores), that every highly-educated man has
it in his power to speak well. To become a perfect orator,
perhaps, one must be endued by nature with a genius
superior to the bulk of mankind ; yet pains and industry
may make any person possessing a good jxidgment and
ordinary imagination, a tolerable speaker, especially if
he set about improving himself when young — by making
himself master of the great events, and of the principal
characters which are handed down to us in history, and
thus laying in such a store of knowledge as will be ready
at hand on almost all occasions. And history will not
only furnish you with the best materials and ground-
work of public speaking, but it will also furnish you
with the best models. To imitate the brightest examples,
and to follow the steps of those who have been ornaments
of human nature, and an honour to their country, should
be the study and desire of every English gentleman.
Your first attempt may fail, as did that of the greatest
orator the world ever saw ; but, like him, do not be
discouraged ; and remember that my first attempt was
crowned with complete success. The effects of a good
classical education shine brilliantly when least expected,
which, I believe I may say, was my own case : a scripture
expression has weight in a popular assembly, but nothing
impresses so strongly as a highly classical allusion.

" As to the line of conduct you may choose to adopt —
in other words, as to which side of the House you may
give your support — I leave that to your own discretion.
Sly own politics are soon told. I would support the
rights of the people to their full extent, without losing
sight of the principles of the constitution, and my duty
to my king and country. We want not another Theseus
here, who, as Aristotle says, ' parted with regal power for
popular favour ; ' nor would I recommend you to press
any political point further than is consonant with the
general sense of the community. And here I speak from
what I have read or seen. If any state has happened to

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 167

experience — to whatever cause it might be owing — a
sudden change in its system of government ; if an altera-
tion in its established forms has been brought about by
means which were uncalled for, it has almost always either
relapsed into its ancient channel, or else the change has
been attended with very disastrous circumstances.

" My sermon is concluded. Ponder seriously, my dear
nephew, on what it contains, with a full assurance that
it is intended for your benefit, and qualify yourself for
the task I wish you to perform. Speech being the faculty
which exalts man above the rest of the creation, we must
consider eloquence as the talent which gives him the most
distinguished pre-eminence over his own species. Study
it, then, as you regard the wishes — I may say more —
the desires of — Your affectionate uncle,

" BEAUMOXT RABY."

To this epistle, our hero returned the following reply : —

" MY DEAR UNCLE,— It is with much regret that I find
myself compelled to decline complying with any wish of
yours, particularly with one so earnestly expressed as that
which is the subject of your last kind letter. But the fact
is, being confident that my enjoyment of life is one of the
objects most near to your heart, I have less compunction
in refusing to grant your present request than I should
otherwise feel. I have more than one objection to be-
coming a member of Parliament. First, on the score of
expense, for, as it is my wish to keep not less than six
hunters (I have four now — my father has just made me
a present of two), and I mean to be absent from home,
in some of the best hunting countries, during the winter,
it would surely involve me in expenses which I might
not be able to meet, for, as you are aware, my allowance
from my father is only £800 a year. Then, again,
of what use should I be in Parliament, with my
slender experience of the world, and no knowledge of
business beyond adding up a bill 1 I suppose I might,
if called upon, make a tolerable speech — that is to say,
if it were 011 a subject with which I was conversant; and
without being so, the tongue of a Demosthenes would be
useless. But, to tell you the truth, I am not so much
enamoured as yourself, with the effects of fine oratory ;
neither do I think it is altogether necessary to dress up

1 68 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

the new-born occurrences of the day in the pompous robe
of history. Your fine talkers always remind me of the
fable of Narcissus — they fall in love with their own
voices, as he did with his own face. Did the flaming
speeches or strong remonstrances of Demosthenes (indeed,
old Juvenal tells us he had better have remained a black-
smith) banish corruption from Athens ? Did what is
called the masterpiece of Cicero's orations prevent the
banishment of Milo, or his invective against Antony
destroy the power of that tyrant ? Was not He ' who
spake as never man spake,' disregarded and persecuted
to death by the multitude ? Can human elocution perform
what divine accomplishments and assistance were not able
to effect ? Xo, uncle, in matters of common life, and also
in the House of Commons, it is not so much >rhfit is said,
as who said it, that has weight. In short, I look upon
oratory as a two-edged weapon, which cuts both ways ;
and if my scanty knowledge of history has led me to
a right conclusion, it is much to be doubted whether the
gift of fine speaking, though both excellent and useful
in its nature, has not been applied in such a manner as
to do more harm than good. Factious demagogues, in
the shape of fine speakers, have too often led the multitude
captive, by first deceiving, and afterwards plundering and
destroying them. I have now, my dear uncle, nothing
more to say on this subject than to assure you that it
is one on which I hope you will not press me further,
inasmuch as it gives me great pain to dissent from your
opinion, or thwart your wishes. On all other points, I
trust you will find me, what I hope you have hitherto
found me, — Your affectionate and dutiful nephew,

" FRANCIS RABY.
" BEAUMONT RABY, Esq., &c. &c. &c.

" P.S. — I forgot to mention one more objection to being
in Parliament. The House meets in the month of
February, decidedly the best month in the year for fox-
hunting. Then there is a call of the House, perhaps, just
as you had set your heart on some favourite fixtures.
Dauntley tells me, he never takes up a newspaper in
the hunting season, but he trembles for the words — ' The
Lords summoned.'" 1

1 It is a well-known fact that on two celebrated Meltonians
requesting to be excused sitting on a committ«e of the House,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 169

As may be imagined, the contents of this letter, as far
as they related to the offer of the borough, and the hopes
of the uncle for the future renown of his nephew, were
by no means agreeable to Mr. Beaumont Raby ; but
enough has been said of his character to make it apparent
that he did not take the trouble to renew his solicitation
by letter. In mere acknowledgment, then, of our hero's
determination to refuse the proffered boon, he thus
expressed himself in return : —

" Your letter, my dear Frank, which I received yester-
day, was to me rather an annoyance than a matter of
surprise. I now plainly see through all your distant
views ; that you are determined to be a sportsman, and
to lead a country life. "Well, I know not how I can
blame you on the principle of Horace, who, with his
usual good discretion, tells us, that we should neither
commend our own tastes, nor censure those of others ;
neither will I blame you, provided you bear in mind that
the alternate pleasure of reading and recreation is the
happy privilege of retired leisure. That you will descend
so low in the scale of intellectual beings, whose minds
have been cultivated, as to assume the character of the
mere sportsman, I cannot, for a moment, induce myself
to suppose : such a person is now happily becoming
scarce ; and the badge of a liberal education is not, as
it was used to be, all at once thrown aside. Let me,
however, as you are about to launch into what may be
called promiscuous society, which that of sportsmen must
generally be termed, offer to your notice a few hints, a
close attention to which may turn to your account, as
you pass through life.

"Civility and good breeding are generally considered
synonymous terms, but they are not such. Good breeding
implies civility, but civility does not reciprocally imply
good breeding. Good breeding is the middle point
between two extremes, — between flattery and sincerity.
It is to be acquired partly by a knowledge of the world,
but chiefly by keeping good company. It is, I admit,
difficult to be defined, inasmuch as it consists in a fitness
and propriety of words, actions, and looks, adapted to the
variety and combination of persons, places, and things ;

the Speaker observed, that he believed "the mouth of February
was the best hunting month in the year."

lyo THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

but it covers a multitude of faults, and, to a certain degree,
supplies the want of virtues. In the common course of
life it is invaluable, keeping people within the bounds
of decency, checking familiarity, and restraining excesses.
It is, in fact, the ornament and cement of social life.
Great talents make a man famous ; learning causes him
to be esteemed : but it is good breeding — which is some-
thing more than an accomplishment — that alone renders
him beloved. We will talk over these matters when you
come to town, which I suppose you will do in the spring,
when all the world is here ; and till then, and always, —
I remain, your affectionate uncle,

" BEAUMONT EABT.
"To FRANCIS RABY, Esq."

The remainder of this winter passed away very
agreeably with our hero, who may be said to have been
qualifying for those which were to follow, by improving
himself in riding and shooting, and in all the other
branches of what may be called "rural education and
accomplishments." Amongst the novelties, however, was a
prize-fight, of which, as his friend Sir John Inkleton was,
to a certain extent, a backer of one of the men, he became a
spectator. He, however, returned from the spectacle very
little gratified ; and, despite of the encomiums bestowed
upon boxing by his companion,— who maintained that it
preserved the vigour and characteristic courage of the
English people, which had raised this country above the
other nations of the earth ; that, although the same God
who made man rational also made him resentful, it was
the characteristic of Englishmen to be resentful of insult
only, but not to be vindictive, and which was to be
attributed to the same cause, also reminding his young
friend of the splendid encomium on boxing in " Knight's
Analysis of Taste," just then published, — agreed with
what Cicero had said of the gladiators, namely, that the
exhibition satiated whilst it lasted, and left no satisfaction
in the reflection of it. Inasmuch as this was the first,
so it was the last of these exhibitions which Frank Raby
attended ; but by way of showing the difference in the
style in which the records of such events are handed
down, I subjoin that of the one now alluded to. Whether
such things are unworthy of a memorial, or whether the
pen which perpetuates them is debased, is not for me to

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 171

determine, but the improvement in the style in which
they are recorded is remarkable, and not, I should
imagine, to be excelled. And who can doubt but that
this adds to their celebrity ? " The Athenians," says
Sallust, "were clever fellows, but they owed much to
their historians, who made them as clever as their own.
wit and talent could represent them."

"Harlston, in Norfolk, July 30. — Yesterday, in the
afternoon, Slack and Pettit met and fought. At the first
set-to, Pettit seized Slack by the throat, and held him up
against the rails, and grained him so much as to make
him extremely black. This continued for half a minute
before Slack could break Pettit's hold, after which, for
near ten minutes, Pettit kept fighting and driving hard
at Slack, when at length Slack closed with his antagonist,
and gave him a very severe fall ; after that, a second and
third ; but between these falls Pettit threw Slack twice
off the stage, and, indeed, Pettit so much dreaded Slack's
falls, that he ran directly at his hams, and tumbled him
down, and by that means gave Slack an opportunity of
making the falls very easy. When they had been fighting
eighteen minutes, the odds ran against Slack, a guinea to
a shilling ; whereas, on first setting out, it was three or
four to one on his head ; but after this time Slack
shortened Pettit so as to disable him from running and
throwing him down in the manner he had done before
but obliged him to stand to close fighting. Slack then
closed one of his eyes, and beat him very much about
the face. At twenty minutes Pettit grew weaker, Slack
stronger. This was occasioned by Slack's straight way
of fighting. At twenty-two minutes, the best judge
allowed Slack to have the advantage over Pettit very
considerably, as he was then recovering his wind, which
was owing to game. When they had boxed twenty-four
minutes Pettit threw Slack again over the rails. This,
indeed, Slack suffered him to do, as by that means he
fixed a blow under Pettit's ribs, that hurt him much.
Whilst Slack was again getting upon the stage (it was not
half a minute before he was remounted), Pettit had so
much the fear of his antagonist before his eyes, that he
walked off without so much as civilly taking leave of the
spectators, or saying anything to any person. This the
backers call rogueing of it, for it is generally thought
that he ran away full strong. The whole time of their

172 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

fighting was twenty-five minutes ; and this morning the
battle was given to Slack, who drew the first ten guineas
out of the box. Thus ended this dreadful combat.'"'

The month of May having arrived, our hero after a
fortnight's good sport in trout-fishing, repaired to " the
great city" for several weighty purposes. One was to
make up matters with his uncle, by convincing him,
which was true, that he had no business in Parliament ;
another, to purchase two more horses at Tattersall's ;
and here he was guided by the advice of one able to
tender it.

" Purchase those," said his adviser, " which have been
ridden over grass countries, such as Leicestershire or
Xorthamptonshire, where the fences are high and icide,
and where there are brooks. Half the horses called
hunters are all but worthless to hard-riding men, by
having been ridden in countries where the fences are
chiefly dead hedges, with small ditches and timber, but
no strong, live, blackthorn hedges, which horses must
push through, and leap a wide ditch beyond them as well,
and where there are no brooks of any width, many of
which, indeed, horses can walk through."

He took his friend's advice, and purchased two well-
seasoned geldings that had had many a hot spirt over the
deep vale of Belvoir, and the cream of the Quorndon
country, and at the moderate price of 300 guineas for
the two.

Epsom and Ascot were also taken in their turn, and
neither of them without their impression on our hero.
When contemplating with himself, at the latter place, as
to the means by which he could put his resolves into
effect, as to once signalizing himself on the turf, the
following rather curious coincidence happened. He was
thus accosted by his friend Dauntley : —

" I have a word to say to you, Raby," said he. " I
have just heard of a person in a retired part of Wales, —
a devilish good judge of racing, mind ye, — who has
two two-year-old fillies of his own breeding (and very
well bred they are) to sell, and both are in the next
year's Oaks. He will take 400 guineas for them, and I
strongly recommend you to purchase them, as you wish
to have a shy at the turf. At all events, they are
dog-cheap."

"Cheap enough, no doxibt," replied Frank, "but I must

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 173

look out for the money before I open my mouth wider.
I cannot spare such a sum out of my allowance."

" Certainly not," replied Lord Dauntley ; " but I will
manage that part of the affair. I will lend you the
money, and I have a friend who will let the fillies run in
his name, and they can go to my trainer's, or any other
you may prefer."

No sooner said than done. The fillies — and very clever
one> they were — were purchased, and, soon after the
following Christmas, put into training in the name of
Darkin, but, as they had not made their appearance as
two-year-olds, were not even named in the betting. In
fact, in the true acceptation of the term, they were dark
ones.

Nothing very remarkable occurred to our hero during
his stay .in London, which did not exceed six weeks,
although he was very far from being idle. In addition to
the purchase of the two hunters, he gave orders for a
comfortable travelling post-chaise to one of the best
builders in the Acre, and furnished his saddle-room with
everything wanting for his stud. He also purchased two
brace of greyhounds, at rather a high figure, which, after
having defeated the parson's famous bitch, Fly, that had
been the terror of the club in his neighbourhood for two
successive years, he made a present of to Perren, having
no turn for coursing. Having then replenished his
fishing-book with some of the best tackle and flies, he
took leave of his uncle, whose house had been his home
during his visit, his uncle taking leave of him in nearly
these words : —

" God bless you, Frank ; I wish our pursuits were more
congenial ; but still, although they are as wide apart as
the poles, I wish you to excel in yours, as I might have
excelled in mine, but for a constitutional infirmity. This,"
putting a £100 bank-note into his hand, " will not retard
your progress ; and if at any time you require the fellow
to it, you have nothing more to do than to say so. "

The month of August found our hero snugly domiciled
in the Highlands of Scotland, on the shooting-ground
engaged by Lord Dauntley, and where, with the accession
of another friend of his Lordship, a delightful month was
passed. The return of the game killed was as follows,
which was not amiss for that period, when it was not so
abundant as at present : —

174 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Black'grouse, seven and a half brace ; red grouse, eighty-
five brace ; ptarmagan, three and a half brace ; red deer,
seven ; and roe, thirteen.

But something more important and more durable than
grouse and deer was the result of this excursion. The trio
returned to England with their nerves braced, ready to
crack, by the exercise upon, and the breathing the air of,
the truly romantic regions of the north ; and each came
to the resolution that the excursion should be repeated
during the next twenty years, should life and health be
so long granted to them to enjoy it, for this was true en-
joyment. Exclusive of the actual diversion on the moor;?,
everything they ate was delicious ; the champagne and
claret were nectar ; their beds were beds of roses ; but
why ? Because hunger is the best sauce ; exercise refines
the palate, and gives additional go&t to wine ; and hard
must be that bed on which sound and refreshing sleep is
denied to the man who has had a good day's grouse-shoot-
ing over the Scotch hills, or those of any other country on
which that noble game is to be found ! There was, indeed,
but one drawback from the sum-total of happiness, of
which this party were partakers, and this was — "the
reckoning." Including the rent of the shooting-ground,
it amounted to nearly £600, to be divided into three parts,
our hero's proportion being rather an awkward set-off
against the annual amount of his income, which, as has
been already stated, did not exceed £800. To the others
of the party it was a flea-bite.

In the circle of British sports, fox-hunting ever must
and will take the precedence ; and towards the end of
October, having, up to that period, hunted with his
father's harriers, and satisfied himself of the efficiency of
his stud, Frank Raby determined on making his debut as
a fox-hunter, but not his election of hounds and country,
until experience of some of the best of them had fully
enabled him to decide as to which to give the preference.
Of Oxfordshire he had had a taste during his residence at
Oxford, and this was the opinion he had formed of it : —
the hill country was light and uncertain with regard to
scent, but a clean and gentlemanlike one to ride over, and
contained many excellent sportsmen. The vale called the
Bicester country was preferable ; he considered it, despite
of its large woods on one side of it, and the almost fathom-
less depth of its soil after a hard frost succeeded by rain,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 175

what may be termed a fox-hunting country, and he had
seen some fine runs in it. A criterion of the strength of
it, he used to say, might be ascertained by the fact, that
not only did the Oxford livery stable-keepers charge a
third more for horses ridden over it by the gownsmen than
they did for those ridden over the hill country, but the
calculation of falls, by the riders of them, was in the pro-
portion of three to one in favour of the vale ; that is to
say, there were three falls in the vale, to one in the hill
country. But the Northamptonshire side of the country,
he used to say, cannot be ridden over without falls by a
man who is determined to be with hounds.

There was likewise another country which he had had
a taste of when at Oxford, and that was what was called
the Vale of White Horse, adjoining to the Craven country ;
and, although in the county of Berks, some of its best
covers were within easy reach of Oxford. He liked parts
of that country much ; being a dairy country, it abounded
in fine large grass fields, and he was told that such parts
of it strongly resembled Leicestershire. He had also a
regard for it, on another consideration. In a fine run from
Pusey Firs, he was one of only five who cleared the Rosey
Brook, himself taking the lead upon Achilles, although,
as somewhat of a take off from the merit of it, it had been
leaped, nearly in the same place, by Mr. Barry Price,
upon his famous horse called Monarch, a few days before
— the said Mr. Barry Price being eighteen stone plum
weight in the scales. But the Rosey Brook is, in most
places, a very serious affair.

Our hero, up to this period, had had but a slight taste
of Warwickshire, and this at two of its least inviting fix-
tures ; namely, Wolford Wood and Witchford Wood,
almost the only two covers within possible reach of Ox-
ford men ; roughish places, both of them, but often hold-
ing, as most rough places do, very capital foxes. But
Frank Raby had heard enough of Warwickshire to induce
him to make it his election for his debut on the fox-
hunter's stage, so sent his stud to Stratford-on-Avon, the
headquarters of the Hunt ; and arrived there himself, in
his travelling chaise, on the evening of the fourth of
November, anno Domini, 1803.

He found a highly finished gentleman at the head of
this establishment, in the person of Mr. Corbet, of Sun-
dorue Castle, Shropshire, who himself sustained the

176 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

expenses of it, keeping a complement of hounds and horses
for four days a week, and occasionally a fifth ; having two
kennels, one at Stratford-on-Avon, and another at Minden,
near Coventry, whence the country called " The Mereden "
was hunted at two different periods in the season, but
chiefly in the spring, for which it is eminently adapted.
He soon obtained an introduction to the members of the
Stratford Hunt Club, whom he found living together on
the best possible terms — Mr. Corbet joining them at
dinner on every Thursday in the week, and commonly
entertaining some of them on the other six days. He
found a man hunting these hounds, whom, although he
was too young to give an opinion on his merits as a hunts-
man, he pronounced to be the finest horseman, in the form
of a servant, he had ever hitherto seen ; and it was told of
him that, during his service with that eminent sportsman,
Mr. Childe, of Kinlet Hall, in Shropshire, as whipper-in,
he was the only man in his establishment that he would
ever suffer to mount the horses he himself rode. His
name was William Barrow, commonly called Will Barrow,
and his brother Jack, also good in his place, acted as his
first whip. He saw a month's very good sport with these
hounds, and he saw some right good sportsmen in the
field ; but what surprised him most, was the fact that the
two leading men over this strongly fenced and, in parts,
very deep country, weighed, with their saddles, good
seventeen stone. The name of these eminent horsemen
and sportsmen was Canning, the elder possessing a large
property in the country, and the younger also in posses-
sion of a very considerable income. But the most extra-
ordinary part of the history of these gentlemen as sports-
men, is the fact of their having — by reason of being
Catholics — been educated abroad, and never seeing a fox-
hound in the field until past their twenty-fifth year. The
younger, Mr. Robert Canning, was the finest horseman of
the two ; but their knowledge of fox-hunting, and their
judgment in riding to hounds, were not inferior to those
of the most experienced sportsman of the day. Mr.
Hawkes, so celebrated as an amateur jockey, and a con-
spicuous man with Mr. Meynell's hounds in Leicester-
shire, also then resided in Warwickshire, and was occasion-
ally seen, and, as it fell out at this identical time, by our
hero, gallantly crossing its large grass enclosures on his
thorough-bred nags, delighted with the cheering voice of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 177

Will Barrow to his "lasses," as he was used to call the
bitch pack : and, certainly, no human voice ever exceeded
his in a view-halloo or a cheer. But

'• What more grateful to the ear,
Than the voice that speaks to cheer ? "

There was another very remarkable character, in the
shape of a sportsman of the old school, residing in the
town of Stratford, but a member of the Stratford Hunt,
and an intimate friend of Mr. Corbet. His name was
Stubbs ; and so insatiate was he of hunting, that, on the
vacant days of the foxhounds, he hunted with his own
harriers ; and, indeed, on one occasion, on a Sunday, when
a fox broke out of his saddle-room, during divine service.
" Saddle the dun horse," said he to his man, when he told
him what had happened, and he immediately put his
hounds on the scent. But what was most remarkable in
this very zealous fox - hunter, was the fact that, when
hounds ran straight across a country, he could neither see
nor hear him, as he could not persuade himself to leap
fences ; and yet, from his great knowledge of the country,
he was generally up soon after the finish, whatever that
might be. Mr. Corbet also surprised our hero by his great
dislike to fences, which he found it difficult to reconcile
with the enthusiasm he exhibited in the chase ; he, how-
ever, by being mounted on very speedy horses, and not
afraid to gallop over the worst sort of ground, saw a great
deal of the sport, appearing at times in a good place when
very little expected. And Frank Raby took a leaf out of
his book, as regarded his hunters, of wlaich he had always
a score of a very good sort. He purchased them, when
foals, from his tenants and other farmers in Shropshire,
which county has always been celebrated for good hunting
blood.

Our hero's opinion of Warwickshire was this. He found
a great many bad fixtures for hounds in it, although it
was possible that, even from them, by taking a certain
line, a fine run, over a fine country, was on the cards.
For example, he went one morning a long distance to a
cover which was in bad repute with the Hunt, and
whence he was told he had scarcely a chance of a run.
The fox led him over twelve miles of country, at the very
best pace, with only one ploughed field by the way, no
river to cross, and only two brooks, and those not serious
12

178 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

ones ! But he found some parts of the country which
could not be excelled anywhere — and these to a large
extent ; and that part which was not good had this
redeeming quality : — a blank day in Warwickshire, at
this time, was as rare as a black swan in all other
countries.

After a month's sojourn in Warwickshire, where he
received some kind attention from several of the principal
families, which his name and connections might have
insured him, he took his departure for Northampton, and
became domiciled at the George Inn, in the county town,
one of the most comfortable in England. The country —
the word county is obsolete, in alluding to hunting
districts — was then occupied by Mr. Warde, whose kennel
was at Pytchley, where the club was also established.
This was a fortunate circumstance for our hero, inasmuch
as it gave him an opportunity of witnessing the proceed-
ings of what may be termed the second great sportsman
of that day — the immortal Meynell, although at that
time about to retire from the field, being the first. He
was much struck with the peculiar character of the
hounds, combining gigantic limbs and extraordinary
height and strength, with high form and symmetry ; and
their steadiness in chase was also at once conspicuous.
The turn-out, however, was not equal to Mr. Corbet's.
There was something like an affected disregard of appear-
ances in the costume of the men, and the horses were
of a coarser description. Still it was altogether sports-
manlike, for a sportsman was at the head of the establish-
ment.

Our hero regretted that he was a few years too late in
his visit to this country, by which he lost an opportunity
not likely to return : this was, of seeing the celebrated
Dick Knight, huntsman to Lord Spencer, who formerly
hunted the country ; and whose portrait, from the pencil
of Mr. Loraine Smith, had helped to adorn the walls of
his room in Christchurch College. His noble master,
however, he had the pleasure of meeting in the field, and
seeing him keep a very good place in the run of an hour
and twenty minutes, from Winnick Warren, a cover on
the Daventry side the country ; his Lordship's son, then
Lord Althorp, who afterwards hunted the country, also
being one who saw the finish and the death. But, until
Frank Raby met Mr. Warde's hounds at a cover in the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 179

Crick country, he never knew the extent to which the
man who rides after hounds is opposed in his attempts
to go straight. Although mounted on the General, one
of the finest fencers in England — at least in the parts of
England in which he had previously been hunted — he
got three falls in little more than as many miles, and
lamented that it had not been the turn of one of his
newly purchased horses to have carried him on that day,
as they were more accustomed than the General to make
their way through the enormous blackthorn hedges — to
say nothing of the ditches, brooks, and timber, with which
this part of Northamptonshire abounds. Frank, however,
left the country very highly enamoured of it. It appeared
to him to leave both Oxfordshire and Warwickshire very
far in the shade, and he nearly despaired — not but that
there are some rough fixtures in Northamptonshire — of
ever seeing a better. In fact, when he was told that
there were woodlands in it, near to the town of Kettering,
the property of the Duke of Buccleugh, in which were
seventy miles of finely rideable avenues, from which
hounds could never be out of sight of the men, for the
purposes of cub and spring hunting, he seemed to make
up his mind that, taken for all in all, Northamptonshire
as a hunting country could net be much excelled.

As may be imagined, for it is particularly the case with
young sportsmen, our hero noticed the best horsemen in
each country he visited, and those of Northamptonshire
did not escape his rather discerning eye. Mr. Warde
never shone as a rider ; that is, he was not, even in those
days, what is called a fast man over the country ; nor,
indeed, have there been more than a dozen " fast men "
of his weight since the world was created ; but his two
brothers went well : Harry Warde, as he was called (after-
wards General Sir Harry), in particular, quite tip-top ;
and what very much surprised the " young one," was the
fact of his very best horse being a roarer. Then there
was one man in the throng, to whose horsemanship rather
a far-fetched epithet might be applied ; it was beautiful.
I allude to Mr. Davy, who has hunted in Northampton-
shire, I believe, ever since ; and, as somewhat of a strange
coincidence, there was a singular defect in his best horse.
He had but half an eye, having quite lost the sight of
one, and a cataract was formed over part of the pupil of
the other. He called him Skylark, and a brilliant hunter

i8o THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

he was. There was something aristocratic in the names
of these horses — that of the first being Star, and the other
Skylark. And, by the way, Frank Eaby heard an extra-
ordinary fact related of this elegant horseman, Mr. Davy.
He got a fall in Oxfordshire, and was thrown beyond his
horse's head, to the ground. On looking back for his
horse, he was non est invent us. He had fallen back into
an old, deep well, the covering of which had given way
under him, as he leaped on it.

Raby, for it may be as well now, sometimes, to drop
the Frank, had the pleasure of dining several times at
the club — the famous Pytchley Club, of which so much
has been heard and said. Nothing could be more agree-
able, and so Mr. Warde himself said. — "All very well
but the reckoning," was the praise he always bestowed
upon it. But Mr. Warde himself added prodigiously to
the agreeableness of this club, and the high social feeling
that pervaded all the members of it. And, as regarded
our hero, he was thus heard, on one occasion, to express
himself : —

" This young Raby is a promising lad ; I think he will
do, in time, especially if he stays with us for a season or
two. I saw him out once, when a schoolboy, in the last
country I hunted, and devilish well he went. His father
is a hare-hunter, but the young one won't have that ;
he flies at higher game ; and, as he will be well breeched
some day — for, independent of his father, they tell me he
lias a rich uncle, likely to choke in his collar, who will
leave him lots of the ready — I should not be surprised to
see him one of us, in another sense. He has asked me a
great many questions about hounds, the breeding them,
&c., to which I have generally replied, ' Keep mine in
your eye, sir, and you will do well, should you have a
pack of your own, which no doubt you will, when one of
the old ones goes to ground.' He has also a great mind to
be a coachman, which Inkleton has given him a taste for.
I told him to go to Jack Bailey, of the Birmingham
' Prince of Wales ' coach, for instruction, when he told
me he was his pupil when at Eton. ' Then you will do,'
said I ; ' Jack himself is a pattern-card for patience and
prudence, having need of both ; for heavy loads and weak
horses, on bad roads, have made him such. In short, he
is a coachman ; and I advise you, if you mean to get
upon your own box, to take as many leaves as you can

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 181

out of his book. It will be worth all the Greek anil
Latin you brought with you from Eton.' "
So much for the Pytchley Hunt of those days. Not only

" Those joyous hours are passed away,
And many a heart that then was gay,"

has long since ceased to beat, but the master of the
pack, after a stout struggle, has been obliged to yield to
that common destiny of our nature, which, sooner or
later, awaits us all. Peace to his ashes ; his system and
himself are gone together.

During his stay, our young sportsman had one day
with the well-known pack of the late justly celebrated
Lord Fitzwilliam, whose extensive country embraced
parts of Northamptonshire and all Huntingdonshire,
besides the Yorkshire woodlands for cub-hunting. The
fixture was Stanwick Pastures, one of great note, but far
from being one of the best. The scene, however, was
such as amused our hero much, since, from being within
reach of Cambridge, it reminded him of olden times. In
one direction were to be seen knocked-up hacks, broken-
down tandems, with the leaders scarcely able to make a
walk of it, from the flankings they had received from their
rather merciless drivers, in their anxiety to display their
art ; in another, four or five of the better sort of college
sportsmen, whose finances had allowed of their sending
hacks forward overnight, coming along at a good cover-hack
pace, without showing distress ; while, just as the fox was
found, up drove a post-chaise, at a gallop, with three red-
coats inside, and two on the bar ! One or two of these
aspirants were well known to Frank Baby, and amongst
the lot — quite as many as could be expected — four or five
of them rode well and judiciously to the hounds, through-
out a really good run of an hour over a right stiff country.

Young Raby's next move was to Leicester, where he
took up his abode at the "Three Crowns Inn," the
principal one of that day, and about as bad as most
country inns of that day were found to be. On his road,
in his travelling carriage, he amused himself by booking
a few of Mr. Warde's sayings and hints, amongst which
were the following : —

" Half the goodness of a horse goes in at his mouth.

"Never buy a horse from a rich man who hunts; or
from a poor man, till you have tried him.

i8a THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" Never believe a, word any man says about a horse he
wishes to sell — not even a bishop.

" Never keep a drinking man, nor a very pretty maid-
servant.

" Never refuse a good dinner from home, unless you
have a better at home.

" Breed your hounds with bone and nose : without the
one they will tire ; without the other, become slack."

CHAPTER XI

The debut in Leicestershire — Frank Raby hunts with the Quorn
under Lord Sefton, with Lord Lonsdale's, and with the Duke
. of Rutland's hounds.

THE fixture for the Quorn hounds, then lately become
the property of Lord Sefton, being very distant from
Leicester, Frank Raby had a day to dispose of, and occu-
pied it in a visit to Quorn, for the purpose of looking
over the establishment, and much as his expectations had
been excited, the reality very much exceeded them. He
found more than sixty couples of working hounds in the
kennel, exclusive of the pack that day in the field, and
they were shown to him by John Raven, one of his Lord-
ship's huntsmen — Stephen Goodall, the other huntsman,
being at work on that day. Then, in one stable he saw
twenty-eight hunters, all in the finest condition, the
building being so contrived that each horse could be seen
from his head to his tail by a person standing in the
centre of it. In the boxes, he saw some of his Lordship's
best horses — Plato, Rowland, and Gooseberry amongst
them, which cost little less than 1000 guineas apiece —
and they excited his admiration, not only by their high
form, but by their condition, which equalled everything
that Mr. Somerby had told him of it during his visit to
Amstead, and to which we have already alluded. They
were shown to him by Mr. Potter, his Lordship's head
groom, who told him that "every gentleman's hunters
might be in as good condition as Lord Sefton's were, pro-
vided they were similarly treated, and not turned out to
grass in the summer."

There being no one about the house but servants, Frank

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 183

Kaby ventured to walk through the grounds of Quorndon
Hall (for such is the name of this celebrated hunting-box),
celebrated as having been the property and residence of
Mr. Meynell, and purchased of him by Lord Sefton — and
found it exactly what Mr. Somerby had represented it to
be ; namely, a complete residence for a sportsman, afford-
ing all necessary accommodation, though divested of un-
necessary ornament, and pretending to nothing beyond
the residence of a quiet country gentleman. The grounds,
however, he found rather prettily laid out, having the
advantage of the river Soar running through them ; not
that there is much to admire beyond the fact of its being
water — which makes all scenery agreeable — in the still and
even flow of a deep Leicestershire stream.

The next day to this was one of intense interest to our
hero, who was to make his first appearance with hounds
in Leicestershire, having been informed by a letter from
Mr. Somerby, that he had taken stables and apartments
for him at Melton Mowbray, and that he should have much
pleasure in paving the way to his arrival thither, by intro-
ducing him to some of the leading characters of the Quorn,
and also of the neighbouring hunts. He felt a buoyancy of
heart almost inexpressible on the occasion ; in fact, he
never before felt it beat so high, for, although fearless
in his person, he could not divest himself of the notion
that riding to hounds over Leicestershire, and amongst
Leicestershire men, was something very different to what
he had hitherto seen it in what Leicestershire men call
the " provincials." His master-passion, however, was well
roused on the occasion, and, without indulging himself in
the absurdity of being able to " dare impossibilities," was
determined to do his best.

The fixture was Cream Lodge Gorse, in the township of
Great Dalby, and no misnomer either, forasmuch as it is
in the cream of the Quorn country ; and a horse called
Gentleman, one of the two purchased at Tattersall's, was
sent forward by our young sportsman for the occasion, he
himself following on his hack, his carriage having been
despatched to Melton with his luggage. On his arrival at
the cover, he was immediately met by Mr. Somerby, and,
in the course of the day, introduced by him to the follow-
ing leading characters of those truly sporting days : —

To Lord Sefton, of course, as master of the hounds, and
also to Mr. Meynell, who, although no longer a master,

1 84 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

was in the field ; to the Lords Yilliers, Maynard, Charles
Somerset, Craven, and I'oley ; to the Honourable George
Germaine, the Honourable Robert Grosvenor, the Honour-
able Joshua Vanneck, the Honourable Berkeley Craven,
and the Honourable Martin Hawke ; to Sirs John Shelley,
Robert Langley, Henry Peyton, and Stephen Glynne ; to
Messieurs Cecil Forester, Thomas Cholmondeley, Loraine
Smith, Childe of Kinlet, Charles Meynell, Harvey Aston,
John Musters, Thomas Assheton Smith, Lindon, Langton,
John Hawkes, John Lochley, and Jacob Wardell.

But he was nearly lost in admiration at the splendid
sight that presented itself. In addition to the gratifica-
tion of seeing what was considered the crack pack of fox-
hounds of all Europe, in the crack country, with John
Raven as their huntsman, of whom he had heard such a
character from Mr. Somerby, together with the above-
named galaxy of sportsmen, and at least 150 well-
mounted men besides, several of whom were eminent men
in this line — independently of all this, I say, he saw no
less than six splendid teams — the noble master's amongst
them — that had been driven to cover by their owners, as
was very much the fashion of those highly aristocratic,
as well as " truly sporting days." And why should I
not name them ? They were the teams of Lords Sefton
and Foley ; of the Honourable Martin Hawke ; of Sirs
Henry Peyton and Stephen Glynne ; and of Mr. Harvey
Aston. In fact, he had now before his eyes, what were,
in those days, popularly considered, hounds, horses, men,
and country not to be equalled in any part of the world,
and that, it must be allowed, is saying a great deal.

Although foxes in Leicestershire were not at this time
so plentiful as they are at present, the amount of noses on
the Quorn kennel door averaging little more than fifty
brace, and this with, perhaps, the best hounds in England,
— a smart little empty vixen went gallantly away from
Cream Gorse this morning, in less than ten minutes after
the pack were thrown into it, and none the slower for one
of John Raven's thrilling view-halloos as she crept out of
the gorse nearly under his own horse's feet. " Possunt,
quia posse videntur" being the Leicestershire men's motto,
they only waited for some part of the hounds to get upon
the scent before they were all at their speed, determined
to be with them, let whatever might oppose them ; in
other words, to go till they fell, or their horses could no

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 185

longer go. And this was the way in which they did go,
at least such of them as came under the notice of our hero,
who thus noted them in his book, and sent a copy of his
remarks to Sir John : —

" Jacob Wardell, on a weedy thorough-bred one, looking
nearly as fit to be carried by, as to carry his rider, with a
hooked stick in his right hand, one end of it resting on
his shoulder, and his own head nearly as high as the top
of it, went away with the lead at a pace that could scarcely
be maintained on a race-course, still less over ridge and
furrowed grass land, on a stiff clay bottom ; and, although
he held the lead gallantly for the first four fields, was at
length laid flat on his back in a wide, broad ditch, and
leaped over, as he lay there, by Forester, and three more
whose persons I could not distinguish, being a good land's
length in the rear of them. By a lucky turn in my favour,
however, I soon got alongside them, and found them to
be Lord Villiers on one of his two famous black horses
that Mr. Somerby had told me of, Mr. Childe, Mr.
Cholmondeley, and Mr. Smith, Mr. Germaine and Mr.
Musters lying a little to their left. I was delighted to
find myself in such company, but fearing I should soon be
cut by them, as we used to say at Eton, and recollecting
an aphorism of Egerton's, that example is the best in-
structor, I determined on endeavouring to follow Mr.
Forester so long as my horse enabled me to do so. And
now for the result, which I could not have believed prior
to the experience of it. When, at about half a field's
distance from him, I saw him take each fence as it came,
I repeatedly said within myself, that's nothing at all
events — adding, where are your big Leicestershire fences ?
But I was as oftentimes deceived, when I came up to them,
by finding them very big. But hoic is this? I would
exclaim. Neither Forester nor his horse appeared to
make more exertion to get over those strong bullock
fences than they might have made in clearing a dead
hedge and small ditch. I was told it was all the effect
of hand — of handing his horses, as it were, easily and
tenderly over their fences ; not allowing them to leap a
yard higher, or farther, than was necessary. That is the
man for me.

" But I was soon obliged to decline keeping such good
company ; the pace was beyond what I had been used
to, and my place was taken by Sir Henry Peyton on

1 86 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Watchmaker, Lord Foley, and Lindon, who appeared to
be just about my own age. This gave me encouragement.
' I see the young ones can do it,' said I ; ' so I must not
despair.' But where were the old ones ? Why, in about
three more fields I heard a thrilling scream, that seemed
to enter into my soul, and looking to my left, there saw
Mr. Meynell, and also Mr. Loraine Smith, who, having
taken advantage of a turn, the result of a quick eye, were
then close to the pack. But where was Martin Hawke, of
whose desperate style of riding I had been told so much
by Mr. Somerby. He was not then to be seen, having
had a fall over a gate which would have stopped a red-
deer. But what surprised me most, was the pace at which
Lord Sefton passed me in the middle of a large field, and
the quickness with which he made up his ground, having
had a bad start. Young Kaven, the huntsman's son,
however, was behind him, mounted on one of his horses,
on to which he jumped at the very first opportunity ; and
well it was that he did so, for neither money nor condi-
tion could maintain that speed long under sixteen stone.
Still there were several heavy men going well ; amongst
them, Mr. Lockly, on a superb horse, called Confidence,
for which I heard he had refused 800 guineas. But this
reminds me of a sad disaster, which chilled the pleasure
of this fine run. At the first check, Mr. Loraine Smith's
horse, whose name I understood was Hollyhock, and for
which Lord Sefton had offered him the above-named sum,
dropped down dead, from a rupture of a blood-vessel at
the heart. Neither was this the sole disaster. A horse
called Hermit, ridden by Captain St. Paul, and which he
had only just purchased at the, even then, stiff price of
700 guineas, stood stock-still in the middle of a field, and
was only saved from death by copious bleeding by his
master. This, however, gave rise to a rather ludicrous
circumstance. A caricature appeared in London, repre-
senting the scene, these words being written underneath
it : — 'An apostle administering comfort to a distressed
hermit.'

"Up to this time — say twenty minutes— I had been
carried, as I thought, well ; indeed, one gentleman, whose
name I did not know, said to me, ' You are going well,
sir ; ' upon which I stroked my horse's neck with my
hand, and said to myself, ' I have got a superior horse.'
But I was rather premature in my praises. He very soon

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 187

did what I did not at all like. He put his fore feet into
a ditch, dropped his hinder legs in a small brook, struck
the top rail of a timber fence very hard indeed, and was
altogether not by half so pleasant a horse to ride as he
had been for the first ten minutes. To say the truth, I
began not to like it, for the fences got very large and
strong, at least so they appeared to me.

" ' A very stiff country this, sir,' said I to a gentleman
in black, who appeared to be going very much at his ease ;
' devilish big fences, sir.'

<w ' Pretty well for that, sir,' he replied; 'but you are
young enough, and strong enough. You've nothing to do
but to throw your heart over them, and follow it.'

" My heart, however, proved stouter than my horse. I
went boring along, losing ground in every field we entered,
and being obliged to turn away from a stiff stile, with a
footbridge over a brook on the rising side, which I knew
I had not in me at the time, I lost sight of the leading
men, and of the hounds of course, only making my appear-
ance at the last, by the help of a turnpike road, with the
rest of the awkward squad, about ten minutes after the
fox had been killed, which he was, at the end of a
beautiful and very fast burst of thirty-eight minutes.

"Nevertheless, all things considered, I had not great
reason to be dissatisfied with the occurrences of this day.
I certainly was in a very good place the first quarter of an
hour, and not in a bad one the next five minutes ; and,
now I think of it, I can account for my not being able to
go well to the end of the run. I recollect hearing Mr.
Somerby say, when at Amstead, that there was a sort of,
not ad valorem, but ad virtutem, price upon horses that
were, as mine were, ' well known in Leicestershire.' ' It
depends,' said he, 'on how long they can go. For ex-
ample,' resumed he, ' a horse that can go well for twenty
minutes will always fetch his 100 guineas, and if half an
hour, double that sum.' Now as I only gave 150 guineas
for Gentlemen, at Tattersall's, I had no reason to expect
to have gone farther than I did on that money. I shall,
however, in future require a little exposition of the words,
' well known in Leicestershire ' — whether for good, or for
evil.

" I was rather surprised to find, judging from the state
of my own horse, and that of many others, that another
fox was to be drawn for, as, notwithstanding some of the

1 88 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

leading men mounted fresh horses, others rode the same
which had carried them so forward in the tirst severe
burst. This, however, was another proof of the superiority
of these horses ; and when next in want of hunters, it
shall be from amongst such as are known to do such
things that I shall make my selection, and not from those
which are well known to be able to jump a few tremendous
fences, and travel at the idtra pace for a short quarter of
an hour, and then shut up at once, or tumble in every
other fence at which their riders may put them."

Although our hero's Gentleman, with his hollow sides,
dejected countenance, extended nostrils, and dirty face —
for he had been twice down on his head, and only picked
up by the superior strength of his rider— had not the
aristocratic appearance which he had exhibited before the
hounds found, when he certainly looked quite fit to carry
a gentleman — and such he had on his back when he
carried Frank Raby — still he had enough left in him to
trot along with the hounds to Scraptoft, and see a second
find. This gave him an opportunity of throwing his eyes
over the hounds, which, it might be almost needless to
say, he admired beyond any that he had hitherto seen, not
only for their form, but their very business-like appear-
ance ; and, as may be supposed, the fact of their having
been bred by Mr. Meynell added not a little to their value
in the eyes of so young a sportsman. Then the three men,
having been Mr. Meynell's men, were equally pearls in
his eyes. He could not, indeed, but admire the appear-
ance of all three, for anything more characteristic could
scarcely be exhibited in the human form. As for John
Raven, he might have been shown as a pattern-card of his
order. His keen and piercing eye, beaming from out a
swarthy, but healthy skin, and strictly according in colour
with his black and curly hair — raven locks we might call
them — just visible under his cap ; all this, added to his
well-proporti6ned form, cast in the very mould for strong
work, and of the right height for a horseman — and as such
he was first-rate — at once pronounced him entitled to the
character we have given of him. Neither were his two
Avhippers-in foils to him. Joe Harrison (Jones, the cork-
legged whipper-in, had then just retired, to the discom-
fiture of our hero, who wished to have seen the rara
avis) was an excellent sample of his craft, as was also Tom
Winkfield, with his one eye, and a countenance reminding

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 189

one of a fox. They were both capital horsemen ; indeed,
I think I may say of Winkfield, from the long experience
I had of his performance, that a better could not be found.

As this was one of the last days of Mr. Meynell appear-
ing in the field, it was fortunate for Frank Eaby that
something occurred to call his attention to his proceedings,
how trivial soever it might be. A small cover that lay on
the road to Scraptoft was tried, but it did not hold a fox.
One hound, however, threw his tongue once in the gorse
and no rate being heard, a find was considered certain.

" Have a care, Dromo," however, was heard from Mr.
Meynell. with one smack of his whip. It was no find ;
and on Lord Sefton approaching Mr. Meynell, he asked
him if he knew the tongue of the hound that spoke in the
gorse ?

" It was Dromo," said Meynell.

" I think not," replied his Lordship ; " Dromo was on
the other side of the cover, drawing very well."

" It was either Dromo or Drummer " (brothers, and one-
year hunters), resumed the veteran ; but as Raven came
by with the pack, the question was at once decided.

" What hound spoke to a scent, John 1 " said Lord
Sefton. " Dromo, my Lord," replied Raven. " I think
a fox has been through the gorse early in the night." This
showed the accuracy of Mr. MeynelFs ear, and at a period
of life when such accuracy is not often exhibited.

It would not be worth while to recite the further doings
of this day, and this on two accounts : first, the day
altered, as we sportsmen say, and the pace could not be
maintained ; and secondly, if there had been a really
good thing, our hero could not have partaken of it,
forasmuch as Gentleman had not recovered the twister he
had had in the morning. To say the truth, he was a very
middling nag, and " well known in Leicestershire ;) as such,
or 150 guineas, or even double that sum, would not have
purchased him at Tattersall's, for, like many other " gentle-
men," his appearance was very imposing.

On his arrival at Melton, our hero was much dis-
appointed at all he saw of the town as he rode to the
" Swan," the head inn of those days, but now a private
house ; and likewise with the inn itself, which was as bad
as bad could be. This, however, was a point of minor con-
sequence to Frank Raby, inasmuch as by the introduction
of Mr. Somerby, in addition to the weight his own connec-

i go THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

tions gave to his name, he was seldom thrown on his own
resources for a dinner ; and on the very day of his arrival
was a guest at the Old Club. And there was, in the pro-
ceedings of this club, what much took his fancy. There
was a quiet, unaffected style in the dinner, although
dressed by a good man-cook, as well as in the way in
which the evening was passed, which he considered to
be quite in character with sportsmen. After a moderate
allowance of wine, tea and coffee were announced ; and
after an hoiir or two's amusement with cards, each man
retired to his couch, to be ready and fresh for the follow-
ing day.

And here the forthcoming day was productive of an
event which could have only occurred in this " metropolis
of fox-hunting," which Leicestershire is very properly
called ; but it was an event which our hero would
never have forgotten, had he lived a thousand years.
Having fallen asleep after his servant had called him, he
found himself almost alone in Melton, that is, amongst the
hunting men, all of them, with the exception of two — who,
as luck would have it, were going to the same hounds
as himself, those of the Earl of Lonsdale — having started
on their road to cover. The names of these individuals
he did not know at the time ; but on seeing them pass
the windows of his inn, he ordered out his cover-hack, and
followed them, at a respectful distance, along the London
turnpike-road, which it was highly necessary he should
have done, as he did not know his way to the cover,
nor was there anyone else to direct him. He had not,
however, proceeded more than two miles along this road,
before he saw his guides turn, at a right angle, through
a bridle-gate, and of course he turned through it also.
Three more bridle-gates were passed through at the
extremities of fine grass grounds, over which these two
crack horsemen, for such they were, went at a rate which
rather surprised our young sportsman, conceiving them
to be, like himself, riding their cover-hacks. No sooner
through the fourth gate, however, than a different line of
country presented itself. They left the bridle-road and
made for a sheep-pen in a corner, which they passed, and
then, leaping into and out of a lane, put their heads about
as straight as the crow flies, in the direction of a spire
which was in view. Our hero now began to find his
mistake — nay, more, that he was in a scrape ; for, although

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 191

the hack he was mounted on could get over certain fences,
at a certain pace, he began to find that, if he continued
at the pace these Meltonians were leading him over this
tine but choking country, he would soon be unable to leap
at all. He had nothing to do, then, but to pull up, and
endeavour to follow his guides, as Hercules did the oxen,
by the tracks of their horses' feet on the ground.

All went well for the next five fields. The fences were
practicable, and as the distance from Melton was only
eight miles, our hero began to think that, from the pace
they had been going, he might still arrive before the fox
was found. But when in the middle of a very large field,
and in the act of descending from the highest part of it,
he saw what he suspected might prove to be death to all
his hopes. He saw, and apparently for miles right and
left, the valley he was about to descend into, not, in
poetical language —

' ' With rural dainties crown'd,
While opening blooms diffuse their sweets around,''

where nothing was to be heard but the hum of insects, the
melody of birds, and the wild music of the shepherd's
pipe ; but he saw a long and undulating line of stumpy
old pollarded willow-trees, which too plainly convinced
him that a deep brook was in his line ; and as for the hum
of insects, the melody of birds, and the wild music of the
shepherd's pipe, not a thing could he hear, animate or
inanimate, beyond the putfing and blowing of his half-
tired horse, and the sort of sucking noise his feet made as
he pulled them out of the furrows of this highly ridged
field.

" Now, what is to be done ? " was the question he put to
himself, — and a serious question it was ; for should he
not be able to get to hounds, he greatly feared that many
a good laugh would be had at his expense, even should
he escape being shown up in a caricature as "a young
provincial gentleman going to cover in Leicestershire.1'
As to a bridge, or a ford, or a road, his eye looked for
either in vain ; and when he came down on the brook,
and saw where his two guides had taken it in their stroke,
he considered himself to be in the most trying situation in
which a young sportsman, similarly circumstanced, could
be placed. He recollected, however, that he had once
ridden the horse he was then on, and which had been

192 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

hunted by a young farmer with his father's harriers, over
a brook nearly, if not quite, as wide as the one which now
unfortunately arrested his progress ; so he at once deter-
mined on riding at it. And he certainly gave him a fair
chance ; for it was not until he had turned his head to
the wind, and thereby enabled him to recover his strength
a little, that he put his intentions into execution. Taking
him, then, about twenty yards from its banks, he put him
manfully at the brook, which, as we say of the grave,
only yawned to receive him. Whether it was that he
wanted the excitement of the Amstead harriers, or whether
the Melton cover-hack pace was quite beyond his mark,
it is hard to determine, but this much is certain : — despite
of the resolute manner in which he was ridden at it ;
namely, with two good digs of the spurs on starting, a
refresher, when near the bank, by the whip, and a " Come
up " at rising, he only landed his fore legs on the bank,
falling backwards into the water, with our hero under-
neath him, who might be said to have been anywhere but
in clover at the time. The upshot, however, was that,
having, after a lapse of nearly half an hour, got his horse
on the bank again, he retraced his steps to Melton, on
no very agreeable terms with himself, but with a full
determination to know beforehand to whom he should in
future look as pilots to direct his course over Leicestershire,
for in this instance he had made a sad mistake.

He had got into the wake not only of two of the best
men in the hunt, the afterwards great Tom Smith and Mr.
Vansittart, but, as is often the case with Meltonians who
possess large studs, they were not themselves on cover-
hacks, but on first-rate hunters, whose pipes they were
amusing themselves with opening, against their next day's
work with hounds, instead of leaving that task to their
servants, who, as they had known to their cost, could not
perform it so well.

As might be expected, many inquiries were made
respecting the absence of " young Raby," as he was called ;
for his having been introduced by Mr. Somerby, an
influential character in the hunt, together with his name
and connections, had rendered him an object of notice,
even with the Melton men, an honour not very often
conferred on persons of still greater pretensions. But
they liked the looks of young Raby. There was some-
thing manly and sportsmanlike about him : in short, they

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 193

first considered him " a promising young one," a compliment
paid to him by Mr. Forester, no bad judge. To the ques-
tions put to our hero himself, he made the following candid
answer : " Why, I was very rightly served. I neglected
the observance of what ought to be a standing rule in all
situations of life, and in none more than in a sportsman's ;
namely, to 'take time by the forelock,' as the proverb has
it, and even to allow for the chapter of accidents. The
fact was, I was at my breakfast when I ought to have
been on my hack, and I paid dearly for my folly by
being soused over head and ears in a brook, besides losing,
as I understand, a fine day's sport. However, the lesson
will not be lost upon me, in having impressed two things
upon my mind ; first, to be wider awake on a hunting
morning ; secondly, the fact that a pretty good hunter
with my father's harriers is a devilish bad cover-hack in
Leicestershire."

The next day being Sunday, Frank Raby, after being in
church, for Melton men go to church, and hearing an
excellent discourse from Doctor Ford, on the empty
vanity of all human pursuits, was conducted by his friend
Somerby through several of the stables belonging to the
principal Melton men, which was to him a great treat.
The impression made upon him by this inspection was
conveyed to his friend, Sir John Inkleton, in a letter, of
which the following is a copy : —

"MELTON, February 3, 1802.

" DEAR INKLETON, — I promised to let you know how
I get on in Leicestershire. I made a bad start on Friday
with the Quorn ; — attempted to go the pace with the
leading men, and brought Gentleman to a standstill. I
think his place is ' the provincials,' as the top-sawyers here
call all countries but their own. However, I was much
pleased with their beautiful riding, and went as long as I
could. But, to use the vulgar phrase, I must either eat
more pudding, — that is, become older, — or buy better
horses, before I shall be able to go their pace, for it is
nearly the Bibury Welter pace. And yet I have no
reason to be displeased with my first day in Leicestershire.
Somerby introduced me to several of the dons, and, above
all, to Mr. Meynell, who equals all I have heard of him
in his manners and appearance. Lord Sefton does the
whole thing in first-rate style ; his huntsman, Raven (I

13

i94 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

have not seen Stephen Goodall), is worth riding fifty
miles to see. Every one says he is perfect in the field,
and has, what can be said of few, only one fault elsewhere.
He is rather too fond of his Lordship's good October. The
meet at Cream Lodge Gorse was such a sight as I never
thought I should see — but more of this when we meet.

" Yesterday I made a very ' bad cast,' as old Dick says.
I missed seeing a fine run with Lord Lonsdale's hounds
by oversleeping myself, and got well punished for so
doing. When I ought to have been half-way to cover, I
was at my breakfast, and by endeavouring to follow the
two last men out of Melton, but generally two of the first
in a run, on their cover-hacks, as I imagined, I got over
head in a brook, and was obliged to return without
seeing a hound. They proved to be Mr. Assheton Smith,
called here, par excellence no doubt, Tom Smith, and Mr.
Vansittart, both mounted upon hunters.

" I was much disappointed with Melton — I mean the
town, which is a poor place, but it contains many good
fellows. I dined at the Old Club the first day, the
members of which appear to live together after the
manner of brothers, and just as sportsmen ought to live ;
no midnight revelling to shake the nerves. In fact, I am
told a pint of wine is the usual limit with many of the
best men at Melton.

" To-day I went to church, a beautiful specimen of the
florid Gothic, with very pretty chimes, and was amused
as well as edified by the rector, Dr. Ford. When I say,
' amused,' I must tell you why. He would not suffer the
clerk to murder the second and fourth verses of the psalm
of the day, but read them himself, evidently partaking
of the poetical inspiration of the author of them. It is
really abominable to hear our clerk at Amstead murder
and miscall this fine language, — ' the howl in the dessart,'
for example. But enough of this. After church I
walked through several stables in the town, and saw, as
you may suppose, many fine horses. To carry my weight,
Mr. Forester's stud pleased me most. They were chiefly
brown geldings, that colour being prevalent in Shropshire
(where he generally purchases his hunters), with those
got by the Hundred House Snap, his favourite blood.
Cholmondeley's horses were very perfect, and just suited
to his weight. By the way, I remember a Christchurch
man, out of his county, saying that whilst he was staying

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 195

at his seat in Cheshire, thirteen hunters took their
departure for Melton ; and on his observing that ' it must
be a difficult matter to find such a lot : ' — ' Not at all,'
replied Cholmondeley, ' the difficulty is in finding the
money to pay for them.'

" Further particulars of what I saw to-day must remain
till we meet. I shall only add that, although the general
condition of the hunters here is very good, it does not
equal that of Lord Sefton's stud ; and I have told
Pritchard — who of course growled on hearing it — that no
hunter of mine should ever again have a summer's run at
grass. — Believe me, dear Inkleton, truly yours,

"FRANCIS RABY.

" P.S. — I hope your stable continues right, and that
you will come here soon. Depend upon it, it is the place
for sport. In fact, one of the flyers here says — not that I
agree with him — ' riding to cover over this country is
better than riding to hounds over most others.' F. R."

The next appearance of our young sportsman with
hounds, was with those of the Duke of Rutland at one of
their most favourite fixtures, and where, as is usual in
such cases, most of the leading characters of the three
adjoining hunts met together. The scene, like that at
Cream Lodge, was one of the most cheering and soul-
stirring description to a person of his age and experience,
and tended to enhance greatly his opinion of Melton as
a domicile for a hunting man. Then there was a character
at the head of his Grace's hunting establishment who was
an object of much interest, and especially so with young
sportsmen, inasmuch as he was, at that period, what may
be called the only one in his calling with anything like
equal pretensions ; namely, to unite the gentleman with
the huntsman, combining the duties of the servant withal.
This was the far-famed Shaw, who then hunted the Duke
of Rutland's hounds, and who, for what may be called
" style" in every department and movement of his calling,
was the most celebrated huntsman of the day. All this,
indeed, was visible to Frank Raby previously to the
hounds throwing off ; for, instead of seeing him, where he
looked for him, in the middle of his pack, as they stood
under the shelter of a fence, awaiting the appointed hour,
he observed him coming along on his cover-hack, at the

196 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

rate of fifteen miles in the hour, and in company with
two distinguished sportsmen, then on a visit to the Duke,
and who were, do doubt, enjoying, as well as profiting by,
the sage and pertinent remarks of a man so eminent in
his way, which, although delivered with the authority of
a master, were given with the respect expected from a
servant. Nor was this all : he was amused with his
proceedings on his arrival. After the usual exchange of
greetings between himself and his hounds, which no man
who has a soul, or is capable of being pleased with such
simple exhibitions of nature, can witness without pleasure,
there was something quite aristocratic in the manner in
which he prepared himself for entering upon his office,
and commencing the operations of the day. The mud-
boots being taken off, and the dust, should there have
been any, wiped off his neat and well-polished boots, a
white cambric handkerchief was generally taken from his
pocket by Shaw, with which, after gently raising his cap
from his head, he as gently wiped his brow, returning it
to whence it came. Then there was something remark-
able too — something pleasing to the ear, in the tone of
Shaw's voice, and especially so when uttering the words —
" your Grace," which, of course, were invariably appended
to his answers to his noble master. Again, there was an
air about him even in mounting his hunter, and trotting
away with the hounds towards the cover, at the signal
given to him by the Duke, which forcibly struck Frank
Raby as something out of the common way. The signal
was silently but gracefully acknowledged by a gentle
raising of the cap, and he may be said to have thrown his
hounds into cover with much grace. As for his horse-
manship, it was elegant, and so thought our hero.

But our hero's opinion of the hounds shall appear in a
letter he wrote to his friend Lord Dauntley, after hunting
with Lord Lonsdale's hounds on the following day, and
once more with Lord Sefton's.

" MELTON, Feb. 6, 1802.

" DEAR DAUNTLEY, — As we shall meet so soon, I
shall only now tell you that I have been out with the
three packs, and am delighted with all I have seen. I
could not have believed, had I not witnessed it, that any
part of England could be so favourable, both for hounds
and those who ride to them, as that which I have lately

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 197

travelled over. And at what a pace it is travelled over 1
But you know all this better than I can tell you. I can
only say, it is too fast for me, at least, for my horses. I
stopped Gentleman, the first day with the Quorn, in little
more than twenty minutes ; Achilles is too slow ; ditto
Pantaloon ; l in fact, the General,' and Bowman 2 — a right
good one — are the only two at all fit for this country. Sly
stable will soon be stumped up, and I must either return
to the provincials, or purchase others. It is useless to be
here with only six horses, and four of those not up to the
mark. I overheard one of the fellows yesterday say — ' I
think that young Raby would ride if he had the cattle,
but the present lot won't do. They tell me he'll be well
breeched one of these days, so it's his own fault if he don't
mend his stable.' I think so, too, Dauntley ; and I must
go to Moses before next hunting season — that is to say,
if Mr. Darkin don't win the Oaks. Trueman gives me
hopes in his last letter ; he says ' Rouge is one of the best
goers of a young one he ever saw.' As he is so good a
judge, I think something of this. He says nothing of
Euphrosyne ; but if one of them can do the trick it's
enough.

" Now for my opinion of what I have seen. I like the
Melton fellows much — ' no nonsense about them,' as Jack
Bailey says ; and they are very civil — indeed, kind to
me ! Of the hounds I should say this : — The Quorn and
Lord Lonsdale's are the most business-like, but the
Duke's are, perhaps, the handsomest to the eye. They
certainly show much blood, as we say of horses. The
others are coarser in some of their points ; for example,
a hound in the Quorn called Guzman, which Raven told
me they breed much from, is coarse in his fore-quarters,
with what old Dick calls 'a chitterling shirt about his
neck.' I believe the term is, ' a little throating.' But
they all have good legs, and feet, and loins, at least as far
as I am a judge. The Duke's, with a good scent, are
called the fastest ; indeed, one day last week they ran
clean away from the horses, in a burst of twelve minutes
— only one thorough-bred one being able to live with
them. Shaw confessed he was beat half a mile in four,
and over the finest part of the country for a splitter.

1 The horse purchased at Tattersall's, together with Gentleman.

2 The horse purchased at the recommendation of Sir John
Inkleton, and already spoken of.

198 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Lord Lonsdale's are capital hunters, and, I believe, seldom
lose a fox, unless by accident, when the scent serves.
The country I met them in looked very much like fox-
hunting. The fixture was Tilton Wood. Yesterday, I
met the Quorn again ; it was the pack hunted by Stephen
Gfoodall, a most intelligent-looking fellow, but a cruel
weight for a horse. He is said to be very clever, and if
up with his hounds in time, generally puts them right,
when at fault. We had a capital run, and I am happy
to say I was capitally carried by Bowman. I suppose I
could put him into my pocket at a large sum, if I was so
disposed, as Pritchard tells me no less than three of his
brothers of the stable have asked him whether he was for
sale ? There was some desperate riding yesterday ; and I
understand the part of the Stanton Brook which Forester
leaped on a horse called Bernado, measured thirty-two
feet — a great leap for a horse, with better than fourteen
stone on his back.

" Now, then, adieu till we meet. If you chance to see
the fillies, let me have your opinion of their condition,
&c. ; and, should you hear of a good well-bred hunter for
sale, think of me. I will go as far as 300 guineas, — •
Dear Dauntley, ever yours,

" FRANCIS RABY.

"The LORD DAUXTLEY, &c. &c.

" P.S. — I had nearly forgotten to tell you, that I was
much pleased with the appearance of the celebrated Mr.
Brummell in the field. He is not a sportsman, I believe,
nor much of a rider ; but he is one of the neatest and best
dressed men I ever saw. His horses, also, are complete
both in shape and condition, and everything about him —
the tout ensemble, I think they call it on the other side of
the Channel — may be said to be complete."

The ides of March were not more dreaded by the great
Caesar himself, than they are by a fox-hunter in the
ploughed countries, as half a dozen " fine March days," as
the farmers say of them, put a stop to anything like sport
with hounds. This being the case in that district in
which Sir John Inkleton hunted, he most liberally made
an offer of his four capital hunters to his young friend,
Frank Raby, and they arrived at Melton in tip-top con-
dition, just one month previous to the conclusion of the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 199

season. Here, then, was the character of our hero at once
brought forth, and stamped. In some of their best runs —
which are not denied to hounds in the grass countries,
even to the middle of April — he particularly distinguished
himself ; and it was the general opinion of the best judges
amongst the Meltonians and the members of the other
Hunts, that Frank Kaby, as he was now everywhere
called, would one day or another rank in the foremost
class, not only of horsemen, but of sportsmen — verifying
the prophetic verdict of Mr. Forester, that he was "a very
promising young one."

A sample of a young sportsman's life in London — A near thing for
the Oaks at Epsom, and a close shave for the Oaks at Amstead.

fTlHE season concluded, our hero took his departure
J_ from Melton, but not without having hired most
convenient apartments for the forthcoming one, together
with a ten-stalled stable for his horses, being resolved on
adding four others to his number, as well as replacing
those who could not do the trick. In fact, he was now
spoiled for riding anything second-rate, and Bowman and
the General were the only two that he intended to keep
for the ensuing year.

Between his arrival at Amstead, and " the Derby," a
period of as much note in the almanack of a sportsman as
Whitsuntide or Easter in that of others, nothing occurred
to our hero sufficiently worthy of record, unless it be the
receipt of the two following letters at about the end of
the first fortnight : —

" GROSVENOR SQUARE, Sunday, April 19.
" DEAR EABY, — Your account of your doings at
Melton delighted me, but not so much as that I have
heard from others of your performance over the country,
and the good impression you left behind you on the
people. They all say 'you will do,' and enough is
expressed in those few words. I saw your fillies a few
days back, and I really think you have a chance. True-
man says he has tried them high (such are his words), and

200 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

that Rouge is the second best two-year-old he ever had
in his stable. I am just come from TattersalPs, and find
they are both in the betting ; Rouge at only 12 to 1 —
Euphrosyne at 25. You should employ some one to lay
out a hundred for you, chiefly on Rouge, from what
Trueman says. He has taken the odds himself to £50.
Make use of me, if you like, as I mean to lay out some
money on Rouge — a hundred at least — to-morrow. As
they tell me the may-fly is gone, I suppose we shall soon
meet in the little village. I shall therefore only add that
I remain, — Dear Frank, truly yours,

" DAUNTLEY.
" F. EABT, Esq."

" HONOURED SIR, — I writes to tell you how your fillies
is, as it is my duty so to do. I thinks we shall be nigh
hand with Rouge, if we doesn't win the Oaks. I have
tried her with a good four-year-old at eight pounds, and
they ran head to head. Euphrosyne is well, and has good
speed, but I doubt she will not stay.1 I have taken the
odds (12 to 1) to £50 about Rouge, and I would advise
you to do the same, but don't meddle with the other yet.
The odds will be higher against her after a bit, when
people sees she hasn't many friends. — Sir, your obedient
servant,

" W. TRUEMAN.

"To FRANCIS RABY, Esq."

The consequence of these letters was, one from our hero
to his friend Dauntley, requesting him to take the odds to
a hundred pounds on Rouge,*but, in the classical language
of Mr. Trueman, not to meddle with Euphrosyne, and the
commission was executed, on the following Monday, by
his Lordship.

A fortnight before the Derby our hero arrived in
London, and, as usual, took up his residence with his
uncle, whose kindness towards him was unabated. He
could not, however, help remarking that, although, from
the length of time since he had last seen him, it was, to a
certain extent, to be looked for, there was a wide differ-
ence in the character and deportment of his favourite
nephew, and in one or two respects not exactly to be

1 Anglice—is a jade and will die away in a struggle at the last.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 201

accounted for. In the first place, he was rather short in
his answers ; in other words, if he did not appear to hold
his uncle cheaply, he appeared evidently to attach but
little weight to his general remarks and opinions. The
fact was, his uncle had never been at Melton. In the
next, he observed a thoughtfulness about him that was
not, he was certain, natural, and he now and then appeared
to be almost absorbed in thought. In fact, Mr. Beaumont
Kaby began to doubt whether his favourite nephew was
happy, and even put the question to him, to endeavour
to satisfy his mind on the subject. The answer was, of
course, in the affirmative.

That Frank Raby was, at this time, quite happy, no
one will readily believe, and the cause of his not being
so will as readily present itself. He had embarked in a
speculation, the result of which was not only in itself
uncertain, but it was also apparent to him that he had
embarked in it rashly, and without the means of carrying
it through with any satisfaction to himself. He had
already put himself under an obligation to a friend, and
that a newly-acquired one, for the money his fillies had
cost, and he was further involved with him in the odds
he had taken for him at Tattersall's. In short, for the
first time in his life, he found himself in trouble, in
consequence of exceeding his means. But this was not
the utmost extent of it. He had subjected himself, also
for the first time, to a severe self-reproach for acting an
underhand part in the possession of his racing fillies — in
fact, for having done what he feared to be known to
all the world, which he felt was quite repugnant to his
naturally ingenuous disposition.

Within a week of the meeting, matters stood thus :
Rouge was third favourite for the Oaks, the odds being
only 8 to 1 against her, whereas, with respect to Euphro-
syne, they remained at 25. Nevertheless, in consequence
of her being in the same stable with Rouge, said to be
such a flyer, added to her being known to be a superior
goer, a good deal of money had been laid out upon her at
the above-named quotation, but not by the principal
bettors, further than to make up their books. As to her
owner, although he had taken the odds — at least his noble
friend had done so for him — to another hundred pounds,
on the Monday before the race, when they were only 12
to 1, he had not one shilling on Euphrosyne nor had

202 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

any of his friends who were in the secret, and they only
consisted of three ; namely, Lord Dauntley, Hargrave, and
Goodall, his old Christchurch chums, who had laid out
some money on Rouge.

On the morning of the race, an alteration had taken
place in the betting, in consequence of something having
transpired, and the odds stood thus : 12 to 1 against
Rouge, and 10 to 1 against Euphrosyne, or 6 to 1 against Mr.
Darkin's lot. Thus had Rouge gone down four points,
whilst Euphrosyne got up fifteen in the betting.

But one thing surprised Frank Raby and his friends
more than the alteration in the betting ; and this was the
fact of the worst jockey being put upon Rouge, and the
best on the other filly, which was thus accounted for by
Mr. Trueman : —

" We must not throw away a chance, sir," said he to
our hero, "with Euphrosyne, although hers is a poor one ;
she is a difficult mare to ride, whereas Rouge wants no
riding at all, beyond keeping her straight and holding
her well together. She's as honest, as, I fear, the other is
a rogue."

All this, however, was very satisfactorily explained
about an hour before the race, and in the following
manner : —

Our hero was accosted on the course by a person
of rather mean appearance, but having a good deal the
look and character of what is called a "leg," in the real
acceptation of that term.

" Pray, sir," said he, " are you not Mr. Raby ? "

" I am," he replied.

" And the owner of two fillies in this race ? "

Our hero paused, but his silence was thus interrupted
by the "leg":—

" I know all about them, sir," resumed he ; " they are
both your fillies, and you have been robbed I I saw them
tried, and I have no doubt but that Euphrosyne is five
pounds a better mare than Rouge. As for myself, I
stand to win upon her, and have laid long odds against
the other, which, in my opinion, is as big a jade as ever
started in a race."

" And pray who are you 1 " asked our hero.

" No matter who I am, sir," was the reply ; " you'll find
I have told you the truth."

" Here is a pretty business," said Raby, as he galloped

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 203

up to Goodall, whom he chanced to espy on the course ;
" for God's sake, where is Dauntley ? "

" What do you want with him in such a hurry ? " asked
Goodall.

" To hedge our money before the ring breaks up," was
the reply ; " I have reason to believe we are all done aboiit
Rouge, who has not a chance to win, and the other filly
has."

The upshot, however, was this : — Lord Dauntley could
not be found ; neither our hero nor Goodall had any
credit in the ring, which, in an hour from that time, was
broken up ; and to the post went the fillies. The race
was one of the quickest ever seen over that course.
Euphrosyne answering every stroke of the whip and every
dig of the spur — struggling, in short, to the very last
stride — was only beaten by a head, whereas the favourite
was at the extremity of the tail, or, as his owner said
of Eclipse's competitors, " noichere." And the summing
up of the case was this :— Mr. Trueman won £300 by
backing Rouge to lose, the money being laid out for him
by a friend ; and if Ephrosyne had won the race, he
would have pocketed £3000 on the event — in fact, to
use his own words, let drop when very drunk, he should
from that hour have been a gentleman. But it now matters
little : Mr. Trueman went to his account without having
been created a gentleman, by breaking his neck down
stairs, when in a state of beastly intoxication ; and our
hero purchased a lesson at no very great cost.

Now, independently of the lose of the stakes, and the
honour of being a winner of the Oaks — an honour which,
nevertheless, must in this case have lain dormant for
a time — there was one very provoking circumstance to
Frank Raby, in this foul transaction. He could have
sold Rouge for 1000 guineas, on the strength of her
place in the betting, whereas she was now worth little more
than as many half-crowns — in fact, she was soon after-
wards sold at about that figure. Euphrosyne, however,
was valuable, and might have been sold for a very
considerable sum. To get rid of the thing altogether,,
however, and to prevent the necessity of his applying to a
friend to enable him to pay the bets Lord Dauntley had
made for him at Tattersall's, and to discharge Mr. True-
man's bill, he accepted an offer made to him, through
Trueman, of 800 guineas for her, which, with no great

204 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

addition from his own present resources, enabled him to
discharge all obligations — that to his friend Dauntley, for
the original purchase of the fillies, amongst the number.
And there was one redeeming quality in Mr. Trueman,
the trainer : he left the world without betraying the
secret as to whom these fillies belonged ; and as our hero
had not made any admission to the " leg," who made the
disclosure of the villainy, it never came to light until he
revealed it himself, at a period when it mattered nothing
if all the world knew it.

Horace says, " Life is short, and we should gather its
roses while Fate leaves them in our power ; " and he also
says (mistakenly, I think), that "the charm of Fame
consists in being pointed at, and having it said, This is he ! "
Now, I do not think that our hero was under the ban of
the last-named infirmity ; but that he was bent upon
gathering the roses before the bloom began to fade, his
late proceedings have pretty clearly demonstrated. As
his friend Dauntley and himself, then, were taking a ride
together in the park, on the Thursday after the Epsom
meeting, the following conversation took place : —

"I may consider myself very fortunate," said Frank
Raby, " in getting out of my racing speculation so well as
I have done ; and shall be very cautious how I enter into
another. But I have a serious undertaking on my hands,
which must be accomplished in the course of the summer."

" What is that 1 " said Lord Dauntley.

" I must lay out upwards of £1000 in horseflesh, and I
am at present uncertain whence that sum will be forth-
coming."

" My good fellow," said his Lordship, " you need be so
no longer. I have that sum at your service any day you
may call upon me for it. Nothing is more grateful to me
than the act of serving a friend ; indeed, I consider that
we are sent here, among other wise purposes, to serve each
other when it lies in our power."

" A thousand thanks, my dear Dauntley," replied Eaby ;
" but I must not trespass further on the kindness of my
friends, so long as I have other sources to fly to for relief.
Goodall tells me he can recommend me to a respectable
man in the city, who will advance me a couple of thousand
pounds on a post-obit security, and on fair terms. I am
to be introduced to him to-morrow."

"Needs must, when the devil drives," resumed Lord

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 205

Dauntley ; " but, as your father cannot be fifty, you will
have to pay a heavy bonus."

"Yes, but there is my uncle, also," replied our hero.
" Goodall says the contingency may be made to embrace
my expectations from him."

"I doubt it," said his Lordship. "However, if you do*
not succeed in the city, you know where to come ; at all
events, do not conclude the bargain without informing me
of the nature of it."

At the appointed hour Goodall met our hero at Limmer's,
and getting into a dirty hackney coach, proceeded to the
city on an equally dirty business, and in due time arrived
at the residence of Mr. Sharpe, a member of the honour-
able profession of money - scriveners. On their names
being announced to him, they were shown into the dining-
room, where Mr. Sharpe almost immediately made his
appearance, that part of his premises, as he himself said,
being better fitted than the "office" for gentlemen who
came to him " on matters of a delicate nature." He was
a middle-aged man, respectable in his appearance, possess-
ing a quick eye, and altogether a very intelligent counten-
ance. We will once more have recourse to the dialogical
form, in describing this interview.

" Good morning to ye, gentlemen," said Mr. Sharpe (on
making his appearance) : " Mr. Goodall, I believe."

" The same, sir," replied Goodall.

" Then I presume," continued Mr. Sharpe, " this gentle-
man (bowing to our hero) is Mr. Raby. I beg, gentlemen,
you will be seated."

"My friend Mr. Raby, sir," said Goodall, "is in want
of some temporary assistance, and having been recom-
mended to you by my friend Mr. Thornton, I have reason
to believe you will render it to him upon fair and honour-
able terms."

" Sir," said Mr. Sharpe, smirking a bow, " you pay me
a compliment ; but this I may say of myself, that, from
my very extensive pecuniary connections in this great
town, I have the means of rendering gentlemen accom-
modation to an extent not within the reach of — I think I
may say — any other man. But pray, sir, let me ask you,
is your friend a son of Mr. Raby, of Amstead Abbey ? "

" He is," replied Goodall.

"Then," resumed Mr. Sharpe, "there will be no diffi-
culty in this case. I foreclosed a mortgage last year, on a

206 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

property adjoining the Amstead estate, and, having been
some weeks in the neighbourhood, know all about Mr.
Eaby. I think, sir," continued he, addressing himself to
our hero, " you are now the only son."

" I am," replied Frank ; and, as he spoke, a deep flush
•came over his face, at the same time that he stifled a sigh,
and avoided catching the eye of his friend Goodall.

" Verv well, sir ; now what is the sum you are in want
of?"

" Two thousand pounds."

" Oh, sir," quoth Mr. Sharpe, " 'tis hardly worth while
going to parchment for such a sum as that ; suppose we
say five ? "

'"Xo," replied Frank Raby; "I only want £2000 at
present."

" And the security ? "

" A post-obit."

Mr. Sharpe first squeezed together his lips, hard enough
to have cracked a hazel-nut, and then, pouting them out
on a level with the end of his nose, looked exceedingly
wise — " Post-obit ! Difficult to get money on post-obit —
that is to say, on fair and easy terms ; would not annuity
be better?"

" Xo," returned Frank, " annuity wont do ; I have only
an allowance from my father."

" Well, sir, then we'll say no more on that subject. You
propose a bonus on the death of your father ? "

" Yes, or my uncle."

" Oh ! you have an uncle ? "

" I have ; and as he has never been married, and is
nearly as old as my father, I have reason to believe I shall
inherit his property."

" Ah, sir," said Mr. Sharpe, with a sigh, " two or three
young gentlemen I have had to deal with, have believed
the same thing of their uncles, but found their mistake
when they died. Old uncles are ticklish fellows to deal
with ; if you please, we will confine ourselves to your
father, whose estates I know are entailed on you. Have
you ever borrowed money before ? "

" Xever ; unless it was a hundred or so, from a friend,
which I repaid."

" Good, sir ; and what do you expect to be the bonus
upon the sum you propose to raise ? "

" Let us hear what you have to say, Mr. Sharpe."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 207

" Why, let me see," said Mr. Sharpe (placing his hand
over his eyes, and resting his elbow on the table) : — " your
father, sir, you say, is fifty-two years old ; he may live
another fifty-two years. Then (removing his hand from
his eyes, and looking at our hero) your father, sir, is, I
understand, a very regular liver, entering but little into
the dissipation of this town ; on the contrary, I believe he
almost altogether lives in the country, devoting himself to
hunting, agriculture, and such-like health-giving pursuits.
Then, what a fine, noble-looking man he is ! I think, Mr.
Raby, he'll hold for a long tug."

" 1 hope he may," replied Frank ; " but tell me at once
what you expect for £2000?"

" Certainly not less than £5000, all circumstances con-
sidered."

" Then be it so ; when can I have the money ? "

" In a fortnight from this day ; you shall hear from me
within that time, to appoint the day and hour in which
the money will be forthcoming. All, then, that I have to
add is, a request that Mr. Thornton may be an attesting
witness to the bond, or, indeed, any other gentleman who
is known to both parties, merely to identify the person of
Mr. Raby, who is, of course, a stranger to me."

" Why, to be sure, we are both strangers to you, Mr.
Sharpe," said Goodall ; " but there can be no objection to
call upon my friend Thornton, on whom I can depend for
not talking about this affair, which, of course, Mr. Raby
wishes to be kept a secret."

"Oh, sir," said Mr. Sharpe, with a small smile, "we
never talk of these matters ; we should be cutting our own
throats." And so exeuiit omnes.

" Well, Raby," said Lord Dauntley to our hero, the first
time they met after this visit to Mr. Sharpe, " how did
you get on with the money-lender ? What are you to give
for your £2000 ? "

" What do you think ? " was the reply.

" I am no judge of such things," answered his Lordship,
"as my father died when I was two years old. All I
know is, you must mind what you are at ; for a friend of
mine was nicely humbugged by one of these advertising
money-lenders. He was absolutely obliged to take twelve
dozen gross of cotton stockings, and a lot of vulgar plate,
which he did not want, for more than half the sum
promised him."

2o8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

"There is no fear of my being served in that way,"
replied Raby ; " Mr. Sharpe seems to be a respectable
man ; has a devilish good house ; and keep lots of clerks.
I am to give £5000 for £2000 cash down."

"Well," resumed his noble friend, "all things con-
sidered, for your father is a young and very hale man, I
do not think that is much out of the way, for there is no
small risk in post-obit bonds. You know the law takes
no cognisance of the bonus — that is, the lender can only
recover the principal and legal interest for the same."

" Indeed ! " exclaimed our hero, somewhat surprised
at the assertion. " Still, no man, wilh the feelings of a
gentleman, would refuse to pay the bonus."

" Certainly not," replied Lord Dauntley, " if he were
fairly dealt with in the transaction, and no further
advantage taken than that to which he himself had been
a party."

At the end of a fortnight from the visit of our hero,
with Goodall, to the city, he received the following note
from Mr. Sharpe : —

"Mr. Sharpe presents his respectful compliments to
Mr. Raby, and begs to inform him that everything is
arranged relating to the post-obit transaction ; and will
thank Mr. Raby to give him the meeting on Thursday
next, at two o'clock precisely, at No. 13 Edward Street,
Portman Square, where the gentleman who makes the
advance resides."

As may be imagined, our hero was true to his time, and
having been introduced to Mr. Thornton, who acceded to
Mr. Sharpe's request, made his appearance in Edward
Street, just as the clock struck two, expecting to find
the lawyer, if not Mr. Thornton, there before him.

It happened, however, that he was the first ; and on
inquiring whether Mr. Longbottom was at home, was
answered by a smart livery-servant in the affirmative,
and to whom he presented his card.

" Walk this way, if you please, sir," said John ; and
he conducted him to the front drawing-room, which was
not only elegantly furnished, but had its walls absolutely
covered with large and apparently well-executed paintings.

" This man must be a man of fortune," said our hero
to himself, as he threw his eyes round the room ; " I think
I am in good hands."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 209

In a very few minutes the door of the room was opened,
and a tall, thin, unhealthy-looking person in black, with
a well-powdered head, walked in, with our hero's card
in his hand, and was, of course, very polite to his guest.

"You are punctual, Mr. Raby," said he; "I like to
have to do with persons who are punctual."

" But where is Mr. Sharpe *? " inquired Frank.

"Why I think he will soon be here, accompanied by
a gentleman whose name and object you have been ac-
quainted with," resumed Mr. Longbottom. " But you know,
sir, lawyers like Mr. Sharpe, in a large way, cannot always
command their own time. Pray, Mr. Raby, be seated."

" Thank ye," replied Frank Raby ; " but I wish to
have another look at your pictures. I admire this, much,"
pointing to an historical piece of very large dimensions.

" That is a chef d'ceuvre," said his host ; " I gave 3000
guineas for that picture, in Rome."

' And this," resumed our hero.

' A Correggio," said Longbottom.

' And this, how beautiful ! "

' You show your taste, Mr. Raby ; that picture is yours."

1 Mine ! ! ! "

' Yes, yours ; that is to say, merely nominally so.
General Jervis, now at the Bedford Hotel, in Covent
Garden, is to give you 700 guineas ; and a gentleman of
the name of Crow will also give you 300 for that exquisite
' Holy Family,' by Le Brun, which will just make up
1000 guineas of the money."

On hearing this our hero smelt a rat ; and, taking out
his watch, thus addressed Mr. Longbottom : —

" By the way, Mr. Longbottom, I want to leave my
card on a friend who lives in the square, and by the
time I return, no doubt Mr. Sharpe and Mr. Thornton
will be here. So good morning, for the present."

The bell was rung ; the door opened by the foot-
man ; and exit Frank Raby, with these words in his
mouth : —

" If old Sharpe's head never aches till I meet him at
this fellow's house, he will have a good time of it."

But what was to be done with Mr. Thornton, whom
our hero could not think of thus leaving in the lurch ?
Luckily for both parties, he saw him at the other end
of the street, and told him what had passed about the
pictures.

14

210 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" They attempted to do me in the same way," said Mr.
Thornton, "and, as it was, I was obliged to take £300
worth of plate which I did not want ; but they are un-
reasonable in your case."

" Well," said Frank Raby, " I am very sorry you have
been brought here on a fool's errand, but I will instantly
write a note to Sharpe, and tell him to let matters rest
till he hears from me again ; and I will send it to him
at Longbottom's." Mr. Thornton approved of his discre-
tion, and here the matter ended for the present.

The next day Frank Raby called on Lord Dauntley, to
inform him of the result of his visit to Edward Street,
and at the conclusion of his story was thus addressed by
his truly noble friend : —

"My dear Raby, have nothing more to do in this
business. As I told you before, I can furnish you with
the £2000 without the least inconvenience, and require
no other security than a common bond. I would advise
you to get Mr. Thornton to make your peace with Mr.
Sharpe, by paying him his costs in preparing the bond,
which cannot be much, as the value of stamps to un-
executed deeds is not enforced. As to Mr. Longbottom,
with his chef d'&uvre, leave him to his fate ; he will, how-
ever, be aware that you are too long-headed for him. Who
Mr. Crow is, I know not ; but General Jervis I do happen
to know, and am quite sure that, so far from his being
at the Bedford Hotel, in this town, and able to give 700
guineas for a picture, he is at this moment playing at
hide-and-seek with the bailiffs, and cannot command 700
shillings."

"My dear Dauntley," replied our hero, "you are too
kind ; if compelled to do so, I will accept your offer, but
I still have one more move. There is a rich old miller
on the Amstead estate, who, I have reason to believe,
will lend me this money, on a common bond, with an
insurance on my life, which I should be willing to make,
by way of rendering the security 'undeniable,' as the
lawyers say. I will write to him this evening." — And
so he did, to the following purport : —

"LIMMER'S HOTEL, BOND STREET, June tth, 1804.
" MR. GRIMES, — I want to borrow £2000 on my bond,
for which I will pay the legal interest, and make an
insurance on my life, if you think it necessary, for the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 211

principal. If you can so far oblige me, do it quickly, as
I want to purchase some hunters against next season. At
all events, say nothing about this application to any one
— of all persons in the world, not to Robson. I can have
the bond prepared here, which will be better than em-
ploying a country attorney, — In haste, yours, &c.,

"FRANCIS RABT.
" To Mr. GRIMES."

An answer to this effect was returned by the first post : —

" ASHTON MILLS, June 1th, 1804.

" HON. SIR, — I am sorry to hear you want such a large
sum as £2000. Sure you been't agoing to lay it out
all in horses, for you have the finest in the country now,
by odds. Howsomever, you shall have the money by
this day month, on the conditions you propose ; and on
receiving the papers, it shall be paid through my sales-
man in London, so that nobody will know nothing about
it. I am glad to oblige you, sir, and don't doubt but
you'll be kind to the lads when I am gone. No more at
present from, lion, sir, — Your dutiful servant,

"JOHN GRIMES.

" P.S. — As I loves you, Mr. Francis, as the apple of
my eye, don't be offended at my saying I hopes yon
won't get into no mischief among the gambling gentle-
men in London. They tells me they are too sharp for
us country people."

How is it, it may be asked, that we have heard nothing
of Sir John Inkleton, the friend and patron of our hero,
in the late memorable transactions ? How is it, indeed,
that he was not allowed to be privy to them ? The
answer is — it was too near home for the grand secret of
the racing fillies, as also the transactions with Mr. Sharpe,
to be divulged in that quarter. Sir John, in spite of
now and then a hint from Lady Charlotte, that he had
"spoiled Francis for a younger brother," was a great
favourite at the Abbey, and, although considerably his
junior, much in the confidence of Mr. Raby. Nor is
this the extent of the reason why he was kept in the
dark. Our hero knew that this outbreak of his, so far
from being approved of, would have been discouraged

212 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

by Sir John, who, as has been shown, indulged himself
in various pursuits, which were congenial to his taste,
and one of them of an expensive nature — I allude, of
course, to his propensity to the coach-box — still he was
so far prudent as to regulate his disbursements according
to his income ; in other words, he had hitherto lived
within his means. Nevertheless, had his young friend
told him that he wanted a few hundred pounds to pur-
chase hunters with, his purse would have been liberally
opened to him for the purpose ; forasmuch as having, in
some measure, looked upon himself as his preceptor in
matters relating to the field, and written letters in praise
of him to his friends at Melton, he was anxious he should
establish his character in that country as a first-rate
horseman, and — in due time — sportsman. The fact is,
then, his " friend Frank," as he always called him, and
himself, were not of the same party during the Epsom
meeting of this year, but for that of Ascot he was booked
for the box place, as usual, on the Baronet's well turned-
out coach, which went to, and returned from the course
after the manner already described during the last year's
races.

Although the intimacy between Mr. Beaumont Eaby
and Sir John Inkleton was not on so close a footing as
was that between the Squire of Amstead and the Baronet,
they were upon very friendly terms, and, as may be
supposed, occasionally exchanged visits. During a morn-
ing call, when no one besides themselves was present,
the following expression of sentiments passed between
them : —

" I think, Inkleton," said Mr. Raby, with a smile, " I
am indebted to you for the disappointment I have ex-
perienced in the character and prospects of my hopeful
nephew, Frank. You have given him such a taste for
hunting and driving, that I fear he is likely to abandon
all other pursuits for which his education has fitted, and
to which his duty calls, him. Of course you are aware I
could not persuade him to go abroad on a tour, which
every young Englishman with his expectations ought to
do ; and he also refuses to go into Parliament, although I
have the offer of a borough for him, without a shilling
expense. Now, as I have often told him, I object not to
his being a sportsman, and he may drive his own coach,
when he has one, if he thinks he can do it better than his

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 213

coachman ; but I did hope to see him something beyond
a sportsman and a coachman — qualified, in fact, which I
cannot at present consider him, for the useful and elegant
intercourse of common life, in the first place, and service-
able to his country, in the next."

" You do me honour," replied the Baronet, also with a
smile on his countenance, " by attributing to me influence
over a mind so capable of judging for itself as that of our
friend Frank is. His coaching propensities may, perhaps,
be laid at my door ; but when you recollect that his
father sent him a-hunting before he was twelve years old,
I plead not guilty to the other charge. As to his
declining going abroad, I confess I agree with him that,
without a better knowledge of foreign languages than he
possesses, it would be two years of his life wasted, which
I certainly considered to have been the case with myself,
because my heart was all the time at home, where his, I am
sure, would be also. And then, with respect to his being
in Parliament, I scarcely know what to say on that
subject. To be sure, one reason for declining — that of
being occasionally interrupted by a call of the House in
the hunting season — is of rather a childish nature. If
every gentleman were to refuse to sacrifice a few of the
comforts of life to his duty to his country, where should
we find statesmen to carry on the business of the country ?
Still, it is my opinion there should be a kind of ad valorem
consideration here ; a man may, I think, with propriety
say this to himself : — 'By going into Parliament I shall
make a great personal sacrifice, and the question is, shall
I be, beyond the value of my vote, worth anything when
I get there ? Had I not better (supposing him to be
aware that he will be of no further value than by his
vote) leave the vacant place to be filled by some one who
is better qualified than I am for so important a situation ? J
And, friend Beaumont," continued the Baronet, "as you
are fond of a classical allusion, I refer you to some-
thing like a case in point, in ancient days. Xenophon
describes Socrates in conversation with a very young man,
whom he knew, and who was, at that time, soliciting for
a principal post in the army. To what does he compare
him ? To a sculptor who undertakes to form a statue,
without having learnt the statuary's art ! ' In time of
war,' adds the sage, ' no less than the safety of the whole
community is intrusted to the general ; and it is in his

2i4 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

power, either to procure to it many and great advantages,
by a prudent discharge of the duties of his station, or
involve his country, through misconduct, in the very
deepest distress ; and, therefore, that man must be
worthy of no small punishment who, whilst he is un-
wearied in his endeavours to obtain this honour, takes
little or no thought about qualifying himself properly for
executing a trust of such vast importance.' "

"I remember the passage you allude to," replied Mr.
Beaumont Raby, "and also that the lecture of Socrates
wrought so powerfully on the young gentleman, that he
immediately applied himself to the gaining instruction,
which qualified him for the post ; and why should not
my nephew have done so also ? The history of our
country tells us that youth is no bar to a display of
either talent or of action ; and, if you recollect, when
Homer calls Agamemnon venerable, it is not in reference
to his years, but to his knowledge and acquirements."

" Well," resumed the Baronet, " all I can say on the
subject is, that, amongst my acquaintance (indeed, I
might have been in the House myself, but I was aware of
my own incapacity to do good), three very good fellows,
in their way, had seats in Parliament as soon as they
came of age ; but I have yet to learn that either of them
did anything beyond the value of their vote. One of
them, in fact, disappointed me ; for, being rather a
cleverish fellow, I thought he would have made a good
speech, and knowing it was his intention to make one, I
went into the gallery one night to hear him. But what
was the result 1 In the first place, having had a dinner
party that evening, he was more than half drunk ; and
knowing that the motion he was about to speak on would
not be called till after midnight, he went first to the
Opera. Now, whether it was that, being musical, the
fine singing of Catalani had quite bothered his brains, or
the effect of wine, I cannot pretend to say, but this I
know, he made sad work of it. He not only hemm'd
and ha'd to an extent scarcely ever heard before ; kept
turning and twisting about his cocked hat as if, as Addison
humorously says, he had been cheapening a beaver, instead
of addressing a senate ; but at length got so bewildered
among the phenomena of his own theory, that, luckily
perhaps for him, his voice was so far drowned between
the ' hear, hear ' of his friends, and the coughs of his

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 215

enemies, that not a syllable lie uttered could be heard by
the House. Being a good plucked one, however, he would
not sit down until a friend in his rear pulled him into
his seat by his skirts, to the amusement of those who
witnessed it. Still," continued Sir John, "there are
striking exceptions to this rule — none, perhaps, more so
than in your own person, in your maiden speech on the
slave trade."

" I thank you for the compliment," observed Mr. Raby,
"although I see in it an unintentional rebuke. I was
certainly successful in my first essay ; but being aware
that to have followed up this success, would have imposed
upon me labours that a naturally indolent disposition
was unwilling to submit to ; and being averse to the
attempt at doing anything by halves, I gave up politics
at once : and in one respect I am a gainer. I have retained
the friendship of men for whom I have the highest regard,
but which, being opposed to them in my views, Avould
have been endangered in the heat of political warfare and
debate. However, to return to the original object of
introducing the conversation respecting Frank. As you
have decidedly ail influence over him, let me beseech you
to use it in impressing on him moderation in his pursuits,
and not to forget that, one day or another — and no one
knows how soon — he may be called upon to fulfil duties
of no ordinary kind. Again, I am rather inclined to
believe he has somewhat of an extravagant turn, which
may lead him into difficulties unexpectedly ; for I hear
he has already added two hunters to his stud — talks of
purchasing others — and has taken apartments and stables
at Melton for the forthcoming hunting season."

" Well, Raby," said the Baronet ; " you have now paid
me a compliment, in return for one which is justly your
due. With regard to expense, I have always instilled
upon Frank's mind — at least, whenever an opportunity
offered — the advantage of living within one's income,
inasmuch as the exceeding it is the bane of all real
comfort ; and, believing example to be much better than
precept, I have shown him, in black and white, that I
live considerably within mine. As to his stud, I think
that, with his allowance of £800 a year from his father,
the run of the Abbey for himself and his horses in the
summer, and an occasional tip from his kind uncle (here
the uncle smiled, which, of course, implied assent), he

216 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

may afford to increase it to six, and a hack or two ; and
without that number he would cut a very poor figure at
Melton, and not a good one with it. And as for his
going to Melton, why I "

" Yes, but, my good Inkleton, he has, I hear, taken stalls
for ten," interrupted Mr. Beaumont Raby.

" Has he ? — still it does not exactly follow that, because
a man takes a ten-stalled stable, he is obliged to put a
horse into every stall," replied Sir John; "nor has he
intimated as much. But since you have mentioned the
subject to me, Raby, permit me to deliver my opinion on
it, and that without reserve : — Let him have his ten hunters,
if such be his wish ; and do you help him to buy and keep
them. You will not, I am certain, have occasion to repent
of the act. If a young man attempt anything, let him
try to do it well ; and this, I am sure, is a maxim which
you must approve. It equally applies to hunting, as to
any other pursuit ; and let me advise you, as you helped
to send your nephew to the fountain-head of learning,
where the best society was likely to be met with, to send
him to the fountain-head of fox-hunting, which Melton
surely is, and where advantages are to be looked for
similar to those thought so much of at Oxford. You
know you doat on Frank ; he is a noble-hearted fellow ;
you will be delighted in making him happy ; so at once
open your purse-strings, and do so. Give him a few
hundreds towards purchasing his horses, and add another
hundred or two to his allowance."

"Your logic, Inkleton, is certainly good," said the
uncle ; " you have taken it from a great authority : Dr.
Johnson has told us, that whatever is worth doing at all,
is worth trying to do well. I confess I like what I have
seen of the Melton men ; they are sportsmen and gentle-
men ; and although I could have wished to have seen
Frank a little higher up in the tree of life, I will
endeavour that he shall preserve the place he has allotted
to himself. I will, then, yield to your suggestions ; I
will give him £500 towards purchasing his horses, and
will add £200 a year to his allowance."

As may be imagined, the Baronet was not slow in
communicating this good news to his young friend, who
felt, as he ought to have felt, the kindness of both parties.
Nor was it without its good effect on Frank Raby, inas-
much as, in the overflow of his heart, he determined upon

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 217

making known to each of his benefactors the affair of the
fillies, and the result of their racing career, appending
thereunto a promise that, until he was in circumstances
better suited to the pursuit, he had taken his leave of
racing. But how did the uncle relish this outbreak of our
young sportsman, and the somewhat clandestine spirit in
which it had been carried on ? The fact is, he was so
much pleased with the subsequent ingenuous deportment
of his dearly-beloved Frank, when detailing the various
circumstances as they occurred and related to himself, as
the sufferer ; and more especially so with the small share
of vituperation bestowed by him on the scoundrel who had
handled him so mercilessly, that he merely made use of
this short expression : —

" Well, Frank, let all this be forgotten ; you were in a
serious scrape, which, no doubt, will be a warning to you,
and you got out of it much better than might have been
expected."

The Baronet and his young friend having passed the even-
ing of this day together, the former took an opportunity
of expressing himself nearly in the following words : —

"If you will follow my advice, Frank, I should
recommend you to abandon your present purpose of
visiting Melton Mowbray next season, and I know a
man who will take the stables you have engaged off your
hands. I do this from a regard to your comfort and good
name, being convinced, from experience, which is our
best preceptor, after all, in matters of this kind, that your
present income is not equal to the expenses of such an
establishment as you would require at that place. You
would not like to be in the background among your
compeers, and nothing under a stud of ten efficient hunters
would keep you in the same rank with them. Six good
ones will be enough in almost all other countries but
Leicestershire ; and, were I in your place, I would content
myself, for a few years, with what the Melton men call
' the provincials,' making an annual visit to Melton at
the conclusion of the season, if you like it, when the
ploughed countries get dry, and the sport they show,
consequently, becomes rare. I would recommend you to
the following packs : — to those of the Duke of Beaufort
and Sir Thomas Mostyn, in Oxfordshire ; to that of Mr.
Corbet, in Warwickshire ; of Mr. Musters, in Nottingham-
shire ; of Lord Darlington and Mr. Ralph Lambton, in

218 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Durham ; Mr. Leche and Sir Richard Puleston, in
Cheshire ; Mr. Farquharson, in Dorsetshire ; Lord Fitz-
william, in Huntingdonshire and Cambridgeshire ; and
Lord Vernon, in the Atherstone country. The masters of
these hounds are all of them eminent sportsmen, and, by
a close observance of their proceedings, you will learn
much, and be better able to appreciate what you may
afterwards experience in countries more distinguished for
their capability of showing sport, and which, perhaps,
deservedly stand at the head of all others."

This somewhat unwelcome advice was listened to with
attention by our hero, rendered the less welcome, in fact,
by the recent publication of the Billesden Coplow poem,
by Mr. Lowth, which not only added greatly to the re-
putation of Leicestershire as a hunting country, but, from
its spirit-stirring lines, had very much increased his desire
to make one of the many choice spirits whose names and ex-
ploits gave birth to them.1 His good sense, however, at
length got the mastery over his desires, and, to the great
satisfaction of the Baronet, he yielded to his friendly advice.

1 As Horace says of Anacreon, to relish this poem we should
transport ourselves, in idea, to the time in which it was written ;
but one of its great recommendations is, the author having been
an eye-witness of a great part of what he relates. As the poet
says : —

"He on whose natal hour the queen

Of verse hath smiled, shall never grace
The Isthmian gauntlet, or be seen
First .in the famed Olympic race ; "

and that Mr. Lowth did not go to the end of this terrible run,
is not a matter of surprise ; for it took place over, perhaps, the
severest part of all the Quorn country. There are a few
typographical inaccuracies in the last edition published (although
they appeared, I believe, in the original one), such as Wardle for
Wardell, and " short home " for "sweet home." The first-named
error led to the confounding the late Colonel Wardle, of Mary Ann
Clarke notoriety, with the person intended to be introduced — viz.,
the late Jacob Wardell, who, although not making a conspicuous
figure here, became, afterwards, a first-flight man, and sold one of
his hunters for 800 guineas — a great price in those days — in
consequence of his carrying him through a famous run. Again, for
the sake of the rhyme, justice is not done to the Hon. Martin
Haivke, who is said to have been reduced to a walk, whereas,
although that might have occurred at one period of the run, I have
good reason to know that he was up at the end of it, and rode his
mare afterwards to Melton, twenty-one miles, in company with the
late Mr. Germaine.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 219

CHAPTER XIII

A season with Sir Thomas Mostyn. in the Bicester country, with
anecdotes of some of the leading sportsmen in the provinces at
that day, and a glance at "home, sweet home."

THE summer having passed away much in the same
manner in which summers have since done, and our
hero having partaken of the amusements of London up
to a certain period, and of the partridge and pheasant-
shooting at the Abbey, in the autumn, he commenced his
winter career under very favourable circumstances. He
had a stud of seven hunters, strong, but not deficient in
blood, together with a capital hack, bred by his father, by
an Arabian sire out of a strong English mare. Moreover,
he had himself a naturally strong constitution, con-
sequently, excellent health, and, thanks to the liberality of
his relations, a fair account at his banker's. With a light
heart, then, and well-braced nerves, he followed his
horses to the humble town of Bicester, twelve miles from
Oxford, on the Buckingham road, where he found a few
sportsmen collected together for the same purpose as his
own ; namely, to enjoy the pleasures of the chase in a
country of which he had had some experience during his
residence at the University of Oxford.

Neither was Frank Raby disappointed in the object now
in his view. He obtained an introduction to the master
of the pack, a good, honest Welshman, of plain, unaffected
manners, but of extremely gentlemanlike deportment,
and in every way qualified for the situation he filled. A
single man, possessed of £20,000 a year, and with no other
heavy expenses but his hounds, he was able to do the
thing with spirit, and with spirit was it done throughout.
He had a full complement of hounds, and a good stable of
horses ; and the utmost regularity was observed in every
part of the establishment. But what most struck our
young sportsman, as regarded the establishment, was, the
perfect little Welsh colony that was established in this
part of England by Sir Thomas Mostyn and his connec-
tions, brought with them, at different periods, from North
Wales. The connections consisted of Sir Edward Lloyd,
since created Lord Mostyn, who married the Baronet's

220 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

sister, and at length succeeded to his property ; and Mr.
Griffith Lloyd, his brother, a fellow of All Souls, Oxford,
both good sportsmen. As may be expected, more Welsh
gentlemen occasionally sojourned in the neighbourhood,
for the sake of hunting with their countryman, who was
deservedly popular amongst them all.

But the great object of attraction in the eyes of Frank
Raby was the huntsman to this pack, the very celebrated
Shaw, who afterwards hunted the Belvoir hounds with so
much spirit and &lat. There was a peculiarity in his
manner of hunting his hounds which was quite unlike
anything he had ever before seen, as well as a quickness,
almost approaching to wildness, in his motions, that could
not be lost upon anyone who was capable of common
observation. And to show the repute he was in as a
huntsman, and the value put on his services by his master,
his salary — for wages would be an improper term for such
an annual sum, although paid to a person occupying what
may be called a menial situation — was £300 per annum,
with a servant to arrange his apartment ! And then his
horsemanship also surprised Frank Raby. There was an
ease and elegance in his seat not often witnessed even in
the higher orders of life, together with a quickness that
kept him always in his place, and this with a pack noted,
as that of Sir Thomas Mostyn was, in those days, for going
a racing pace whenever the scent served. And he was
told of an extraordinary circumstance that occurred to
Shaw, which made a lasting impression on his mind. He
first commenced hunting Sir Thomas Mostyn's hounds in
what is called the Woore country, comprising parts of
Staffordshire and Cheshire, previously to their removal
into Oxfordshire. It so happened, at this time, that,
partly from a scarcity of foxes, and partly from ill-luck
in not catching them, the space of seventeen days had
passed over without his hounds tasting blood. Having,
then, marked a fox to ground in an earth on the side of a
bank, Shaw determined on digging to him, although the
night had commenced, and the assistance of lanthorns had
become necessary. At length he got him in his hand, not
a little to his satisfaction, and, throwing him to the pack,
who were below him, on very slanting ground, and
hallooing " Who-hoop ! " most lustily, expected to see him
devoured. But no ; the nature of the ground favoured
him ; the hounds overshot their mark, and reynard rolling

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 221

himself over, escaped all their mouths ; and bade them,
for the present, good night. As may be supposed, there
was no stopping the pack with a fox so near to them as
this was ; and away they went in the dark, through
several strong covers, without anyone being able to follow
them, many not returning to the kennel until the next
morning.

The name of Raby, added to some little reputation our
hero had already gained in the hunting world, was a
passport sufficient to introduce him into the best society
of this part of Oxfordshire. Neither could he have fixed
on a better place, in some respects, to have made what
might be called his debut in the hunting world, with a
perfectly organized establishment, and with a view to
future proceedings. In the first place, that part of
Oxfordshire called the Bicester country is one in which a
man attains useful lessons on riding to hounds, inasmuch
as, from the depth of its soil, the strength of its fences,
and its numerous brooks, it is by no means one that can
be trifled with ; on the contrary, it requires a good horse-
man, on a good horse, to be enabled to live well over it
with hounds. In the next, he reaped the benefit of good
example in some of the conspicuous members of the
Mostyn Hunt, at that period comprising some of the first
horsemen of the age. For example, the present Earl of
Jersey, then Lord Villiers, would often be seen at the
cover side, previously to his removing his stud to Melton
for the season : Sir Henry Peyton was then in his prime,
and, taking a season throughout, was not to be beaten by
any man — when on Watchmaker especially, on whom he
took a leap, of which a drawing was made, and a plate from
it, in the " Sporting Magazine." It was a stile, with a
brook on the landing side, over which was a long foot-
bridge, all of which he cleared, and stopped the whole
field. The late Mr. Harrison, of Shelswell, a few miles
from Bicester, was also a beautiful horseman, and had a
stable of capital horses, no price stopping him. The
Lloyds (brothers) were likewise good, the elder (the
Baronet) especially at water. The celebrated Mr. Davey
would also occasionally be seen with these hounds on the
Northamptonshire side of the country, over which, being
the strongest almost in England, he was much given to
shine. To prepare him for Billesden Coplow, too, the
quickness of Shaw in his saddle, when hounds ran hard,

222 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

was by no means disadvantageous to our young sportsman
as an example.

And what did Frank Eaby think of the hounds ] His
sentiments on this subject shall be exhibited in the
following letter to his friend Hargrave, who was at that
time hunting in Essex : —

"BiCESTEE, November 30th, 1810.

" DEAR HARGRAVE, — I have spent the month of Nov-
ember at this place, hunting with Sir Thomas Mostyn's
hounds, and occasionally with those of the Dukes of
Beaufort and Grafton, when they meet within reach. I
like the country much ; it looks like a fox-hunting
country, especially in the neighbourhood of the See Woods,
and the Quarters, where the foxes are capital, and generally
show runs. The Northamptonshire side of it is superb,
but infernally strong as to fences, with the river Charwell
passing through it. I saw a splendid run over it last
Friday, from Boddington Hill to Abdy Wood, in the
Pytchley country, fifteen miles as the crow flies, and with
only one check. Very few saw the finish, but I was one
of the few, on the General, who went well to the end, and
only gave me one fall. When you come here you must
bring horses of power as well as blood, on account of the
depth of the country in many parts ; and also good water
jumpers, as there are many brooks. It is not uncommon
to meet with half a dozen in a day ; and to convince you
of the truth of what I say, I counted seven bridges on the
road from Gallows Bridge to Bicester, a distance of only
eight miles.

" I like the people also. Mostyn is a perfect gentleman,
both in appearance and manners. The Lloyds are good
sportsmen ; ' Griff,' as he is called (his Christian name is
Griffith, a Welsh, but not a high-sounding, prenomen),
especially, who is said to have the quickest eye to a heavy
vixen, in the spring of the year, of any man going, and
capital in a wood. He takes rather an active part in the
field, as well as in the kennel, not much to the delight of
Shaw, as I am told, who has anticipated inj ury to the pack
by his being too much prejudiced to one sort of hound.
For example : there is a beautiful bitch called Lady, whose
picture, with her cubs, is in almost every house in the
county, and from which, and her produce, there are a
great number of hounds in the kennel — more than should

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 223

be, good judges say. Some persons will tell you a pack of
foxhounds should seem to be all of one family ; but I think
that characteristic should only extend to the look, as
breeding too much in-and-in, as it is called, will not do
with either the human or brute race, and no doubt the
objection extends to the canine. Whether it be from that
cause, or otherwise, I cannot say, but these hounds have
not much tongue with even a moderate scent, and still
less, of course, with a good one. With a good one, how-
ever, they go at a tremendous rate. It would do your
heart good to see Villiers, Peyton, and Harrison ride a
sharp burst. They are beautiful horsemen and not to be
beaten by any man in this country, or, I believe, in any
other.

" I need not tell you anything of the Duke of Beaufort's
hounds, as you have so often hunted with them from
Oxford ; but I believe you never saw the Duke of Graf ton's
pack. You would be much pleased with Rose, their
huntsman, better known as ' Tom Rose.' He is the very
pattern-card of a huntsman, in all respects ; has a most
intelligent countenance, the voice of a Stentor, speaking
excellent dog language, and is a good horseman. The
hounds are not so neat as Mostyn's, but have more
power ; and they appear to be higher in flesh, which Rose
says is necessary in his very strong country, wherein the
woods are large and rough. The Fitzroys are considered
good sportsmen, but there is a gloom thrown over their
appearance in the field by the colour of their coats — a dark
green, which looks very sombre by the side of a bright
scarlet, which is that of the Mostynites. The latter have
the letter M on their button, which lately gave rise to a good
joke. One of them appearing in Leicestershire in this
costume, with a martingal on his horse, was asked by one
of the Mite, ' whether the letter M implied martingal ?' If
you are not smothered in an Essex ditch (how can you
hunt in such a slow country as that ?) I would advise you
to come here next season. I think you will agree with
me that the country is a sporting one — the field composed
of sportsmen, and the whole thing done well. As for
Shaw, the huntsman, you will be delighted with him.
To use a common phrase, he is as quick as lightning in all
his motions — a little too quick, some of the knowing ones
say ; and I like to watch his countenance, when his hounds
are at a ticklish point. He has a peculiar expression of

224 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

the eye, which shows how his heart and soul are absorbed
in the sport.

"We had a fine run yesterday, from a cover called
Gravenhill, which, being within such easy reach of Oxford,
produced a good show of tyros, as you and I may now call
those of the cap and gown who have a taste for hunting.
The fox crossed the brook at starting, and several of them
got into it, as usually is the case, for you know it is a
teazer. I followed Peyton, and got well over on Achilles,
who, you know, is capital at water. I stuck to him
throughout the whole run, and towards the end of it
the following epigrammatic sentences were pleasantly ex-
changed between us : — ' More willow-trees, Sir Henry,'
said I ; ' another brook, I suppose ? ' 'Go along,' replied
this fine horseman, 'and don't stop to look at it.' We
both got well over, and had the best of it to the end of
a fine run, and over a fine country. But, talking of
brooks, there is a proper teazer in the Banbury country, —
no less than the Charwell, which, as you know, is navigable
far above Oxford. It gets less and less as you approach
Northamptonshire, and is jumpable in places in the
Chipping Warden country. I tried it the other day, on
the General, but, although he landed me, he fell back,
and had a narrow escape from drowning. ' The Charwell
was never leaped,' said Griff Lloyd to me. ' Pardon me,'
said I, ' it has been leaped this day, and I will ride at it
again, if it comes in my way.' Let me know what you
have been doing in your country. Those Roodings foxes
are, I believe, proverbially stout, and I am informed there
is no better sportsman than Mr. Charles Newman, the
master of the hounds with which you hunt. One day
or another I hope I may see him.

"I have given up Melton for this year — indeed, until
finances increase. Racing, also, I have promised my
uncle to think no more about — for the present at least ;
so the hunters, the gun, and the fishing - rod, must
furnish the out-a-door amusement ; the cook, the butler,
and the young ladies, with a peep, now and then, into
the classics (for I will not give them up), the pleasures
within the walls, secondary, I admit, to the others ; for —

No sport to the chase can compare,

So manly the pleasure it yields ;
How sweet, how refreshing that air

Inhaled in the woods and the fields !

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 225

As we rush in pursuit, new scenes still appear, —

New landscapes encounter the eye ;
Not Handel's sweet music more pleases the ear,

Than that of the hounds in full cry.

New strength from the chase we derive ;

Its exercise sweetens the blood ;
How happy those mortals must live,

When sport yields both physic and food !
So new and so varied its charms they ne'er cloy,

Like those of the bottle and face;
The oftener— the harder — the more we enjoy,

The more we're in love with the chase.

" Having become poetical, it is time to conclude ; so
subscribe myself, — Dear Hargave, truly yours,

"FRANK RABY.

" P.S. — My uncle has been very ill ; everybody says he
is breaking fast. I hope not ; for he is too good a fellow
to drop short before his time ; and although there is no
doubt of my being a great gainer by his death, it is an
event that, so far from desiring, I would do all in my
power to avert."

There was an extraordinary character at this time
hunting with Sir Thomas Mostyn's hounds, and who
afterwards made himself so signal by his pedestrian feats,
as to be known by name and character to all the nations
in the civilized world. I allude to Captain Barclay,
of Ury, in Aberdeenshire, who, a few years subsequent
to the period to which 1 am alluding, performed the
Herculean task of walking 1000 miles in 1000 hours,
over Newmarket race-course, for a bet of several thousand
pounds. The Captain was likewise, at this period, a great
patron of the boxing ring ; and our hero having somewhat
of a penchant for the manly science of self-defence, their
acquaintance grew into intimacy, which continued through
life. He was also considered a good and scientific sports-
man, as well as an excellent judge of a hunter ; and on
the subject of the latter, offered his friend Raby the
following useful advice, enforcing it with the result of
the performance of his own stud : —

"Purchase your hunters," said the Captain, "with
more strength than is merely required to carry your
weight. / get into the saddle full fourteen stone, not-

15

226 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

withstanding which, I hunted eighty-three times during
the last season, although the amount of my stud did not
exceed four ; and I was only enabled to do this by the
superior strength of my horses. Never purchase horses,"
added he, "that are not, at least, a stone above your
weight."

The Captain and our hero being domiciled in the same
town, it is only natural to suppose they occasionally met
in the evening, as well as by the cover side. " Is it true,
Captain Barclay," said the latter to him, as they sat one
evening over their claret, " that you drove the mail coach
from London to Aberdeen, a distance of nearly 400 miles,
without any relief ? "

" Quite true," he replied ; " and I offered to drive it
back again for the same wager."

" Then your journey to London to see a fight ! " resumed
his companion.

" Oh ! " answered this modern Hercules, " I considered
that nothing beyond the fact of my being exposed to bad
weather for so long a time, having stolen a march from
my regiment, saying I was only going to take a walk, and
absolutely starting without a great-coat. I mounted the
box of the mail at Chester (my regiment was quartered
at Wrexham, eleven miles distant from that city) ; saw
the fight at Wormwood Scrubs, on the other side of
London, the next day but one ; returned on the box of
the mail to Shrewsbury, and, walking thence to Wrexham,
appeared in the messroom on the fifth evening. My clothes
were wet and dry several times during the journey, and
you are aware how rough the box of the mail is, from the
pace it travels at, in comparison with that of the stage-
coaches." l

"And is it possible," continued Frank Raby, "that a
man of your athletic make can be a fast runner ? "

" I never ran more than one match," replied Captain
Barclay, " my forte being walking ; but in a match against
John Ward, which I won with 2 to 1 against me, I ran
440 yards, or a quarter of a mile, in fifty-six seconds."

" That you are a patron of the boxing ring," resumed
our young sportsman, " all the world knows ; I am an
admirer of it myself, but, partly to meet the wishes of my
father, and more particularly so those of an uncle from

1 The boxes of all public coaches were not at this period on
springs, as they now are.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 227

'whom I have no trifling expectations, I do not publicly
•avow myself as such."

" My dear fellow," said the Captain, " you will excuse
my saying, that both your father and your uncle take a
wrong view of the practice and effects of what is called
prize-fighting, very probably confounding it with the
fights of the gladiators in ancient times — and upon a lower
scale it certainly does admit of a slight comparison — in
which men were either in part deprived of resistance, or
opposed to very unequal force. No man now enters the
ring but upon perfectly equal terms, or on as nearly such
as circumstances will allow ; and the display of manly
intrepidity, firmness, gallantry, activity, strength, and
presence of mind, which these contests call forth, is an
honour to the English nation, and such as no man need
be ashamed of viewing with interest, pride, and delight ;
and we may safely predict that, if the magistrates, or
Government, through a mistaken notion of preserving the
public peace, succeed in suppressing them, there will be
an end of that sense of honour, and spirit, and gallantry,
which distinguish the common people of this country
from that of all others ; and which is not only the best
guardian of their morals, but, perhaps, the only security
now left either for our civil liberty or political independence.
If Englishmen are restrained from fighting occasionally
for prizes and honorary distinctions, they will soon cease
to fight at all, and decide their private quarrels with
daggers or knives, instead of fists, in which case the lower
orders will become a base rabble of cowards and assassins,
ready at any time to sacrifice the higher to the avarice or
ambition of a foreign foe. No people under the sun are
less cruel than the English now are, or so little prone to
shed blood ; and, even admitting there is some cruelty in
prize-fighting, experience has shown that cruel sports do
not create a cruel people ; and, strange to say, the love of
gladiators among the Romans increased as the people
began to be civilized, and as their manners, in other
respects, became more refined. Even the excellent and
humane Titus encouraged all such exhibitions of science
and manly courage ; and we find Pliny, in his panegyric
on the stiil more excellent Trajan, stating his belief, that
the public shows, exhibited at that emperor's expense, had
no tendency to weaken or debauch the soul ; on the
contrary, that they excited the courage of the spectators ;

228 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

making them proud, rather than afraid of honourable
scars, whilst they beheld slaves thirsting after praise,
inflamed with the love of victory. What did Mr.
Wyndham say in reference to it, the other day, in the
House of Commons? — and a more humane man than
himself does not at this time exist. ' It is thought,' said
he, ' that the prevention of conflicts between inferior
animals might prove prejudicial to the courage of the
people. In defence of this hypothesis, Britons have ever
been distinguished for what is called bottom, or pluck.
But conflicts between inferior animals, and those between
rational beings, such as men, bear no comparison, inasmuch
as, in the one case, the will of the combatant is not
consulted, and he may consequently be compelled to fight,
not only against his inclination, but likewise on unequal
terms.' Again, the picture he presented to the champion
of the British boxing ring, of the victim bleeding from
the assassin's knife, and the accompanying inscription,
written with his own hand, show his opinion in un-
equivocal terms. However, let me refer your father and
uncle to a recent charge to the grand jury by one of our
most distinguished judges, in my opinion highly charac-
teristic of the national character, and plainly intimating
that, if we do not encourage boxing, we must be prepared
for the viler practices of the stiletto, or the knife. ' I
cannot,' said his lordship, in allusion to a charge in the
calendar for cutting and maiming, ' but express my regret
that a knife should have been found in the hands of an
Englishman, as an instrument of offensive quarrel. It was
formerly the practice in this country, when men fell out,
to fight as long as they could, and possibly to do each
other as much injury as could be inflicted by the personal
strength of the combatants ; but they fought in an open,
fair, and honourable manner ; they took no mean advan-
tages ; they had no recourse to deadly instruments to
procure superiority, or to gratify revenge. I will take
care, so long as common assaults are punishable by the
law, to visit, with the utmost severity of that law, those
who dare to desert that mode of defence which nature has
given, and which time has almost sanctified in their own
country, and who have chosen to adopt that foreign
practice of employing instruments of this description
against an opponent. Gentlemen, the practice of boxing
has often been a subject of discussion in this country ; I

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 229

must say, that it seems to me a practice that may be very
advantageously encouraged to a limited extent. It is, in
some sort, a law of peace, for it discourages the use of
unfair means of attack ; it prevents malicious retaliation ;
it only enables men to employ, fairly, advantages they
may naturally possess, and from the abuse of which they
are restrained by the point of honour ; and while it
encourages a proper English spirit, it prevents courage
from degenerating into brutality, and secures men from
the treachery and malignity of those whom they have
offended.' This language," said the Captain, "is cor-
roborated by the well-known fact that, in Lancashire,
where fair boxing is very little resorted to in quarrels,
there are forty cases of manslaughter for one that takes
place in any other county in England. Then, as to the
charge of cruelty on the part of the promoters of boxing,
it cannot be sustained in the face of evidence to the
contrary. Where is there a more humane man than
Jackson, the present captain of the ring ; or Thomas
Belcher, the champion of all England 1 Within four
miles of where we are now sitting, are two promoters of
the ring — the worthy master of the hounds, and Mr.
Henson — than whom the world cannot produce two
kinder-hearted men. Who will accuse me of cruelty
towards man or beast ? " added the Captain emphati-
cally ; " such was never my disposition ; and I can
honestly assert that, so far from having witnessed in the
ring anything having a tendency to make me so, I have
witnessed the display of feeling and conduct productive
of the most opposite effects. Only let public pugilistic
contests go on as they are now conducted — with honour
and credit to the parties concerned — and, my word for it,
they will be the source of infinitely more good than harm
to society."

" The sentiments you have given utterance to," observed
Eaby, "are precisely those which I myself entertain, and
which I have oftentimes availed myself of when arguing
the subject with my uncle. I remember reading to him a
passage from the speech of an eminent counsel, who was
defending five persons, indicted for having riotously
assembled for the purpose of witnessing a prize-fight, and
resisted the authority of an officer employed by the
magistrates to disperse them. ' As to the practice of
boxing, a great deal has been said about it of late, and the

230 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

counsel for the prosecution has endeavoured to work upon;
the feelings of the jury by stating that such encounters
sometimes terminate fatally. The common law of England
had, however, made wrestling, cudgel-playing, and even
bull-baiting, legal : people assembled to witness or engage
in those national pastimes — those manly exercises of
Englishmen — did not as much as come within the defini-
tion of a riotous or unlawful assembly, yet wrestling
and bull-baiting often terminated fatally. Such sports,
however, preserved the health, the vigour, and the
characteristic courage of the English people, and our
brave ancestors had, therefore, looked upon them with
indulgence. He asked the jury to look at the practice of
boxing, not through the medium of a mawkish senti-
mentality, but with the feelings of sensible and manly
Englishmen, who partook of the generous courage which
had raised this country above all the other nations on the
earth. He had heard it observed, by one of the greatest
advocates in Westminster Hall, that the same God who
made man rational also made him resentful. It was,
indeed, characteristic of Englishmen to be resentful of
insult, but not vindictive. They preferred returning an
insult or a blow at the instant, to cherishing a spiteful
recollection for an opportunity of dark and malignant
revenge. They were prone to the manly habit of fighting
out their quarrels on the spot, and retaining no ill-will
afterwards. They did not, like the people of Italy,
avenge their exasperated feelings by the cowardly use of
the stiletto ; nor, like the people of Portugal or Spain,
by the knife ; neither did they gouge and maim their
antagonists with the savage barbarism of North America.
The practice of boxing in a ring taught them the
observance of fair play. To that the infrequency of
assassination in England was to be attribiited. He did
not mean to say that fighting of any description was not
an evil, but he confidently asserted that it could not be
put down without a greater evil arising out of its
suppression. Boxing - matches could not be abolished
without encouraging assassination ; and to such a lament-
able change in the English character he was sure the
jury would not allow themselves to be made instru-
mental.'"

" May I ask what was the result of the trial ? " said the
Captain.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 231

"Why," replied our hero, "the chairman told the
jury that the learned counsel had given a wrong inter-
pretation of the law, and, commenting upon the evidence,
considered it conclusive against the defendants."

" Then, of course, they were found guilty," observed
the Captain.

" Certainly not," answered Raby ; " they were not only
acquitted by the verdict of the jury that tried them on
the first indictment, but upon two other indictments
arising out of the same transaction it was thought ex-
pedient not to offer any evidence against them, and
verdicts of acquittal passed."

" And what were the principal objections to pugilistic
exhibitions urged by your father and uncle?" inquired
the Captain.

" I do not, as this moment, recollect what my father
said on the subject," replied Raby ; "but my uncle drew
on antiquity for the arguments he made use of against
any such public displays, especially in cases wherein
money is the proffered reward. In the first place, he
contended, that a cold indifference to the sight of blood
and wounds was no characteristic of the true hero ; and,
looking back to antiquity, pronounced the Athletes, on
the authority of Euripides, to have been the worst soldiers
in Greece — so much so, indeed, as to induce Solon to
persuade the Athenians to allot the rewards bestowed
upon them to the maintenance of poor orphans, rather
than to them. Neither did gladiatorial exhibitions
continue in the Roman state after it ceased to be pagan.
Secondly, although it might have been good policy in the
Romans to impress their soldiers with a just contempt of
the power of elephants, by having a considerable number
of those animals driven through the circus at Rome by a
few slaves, armed with blunted javelins ; and although,
in Homer's time, bodily strength met with the greatest
honours, being necessary to the subsistence of little
governments — still, as our soldiers have no elephants to
contend with, and as, since the invention of gunpowder,
physical strength and personal exertion, so much depended
upon by the ancients, are now not essential, such ex-
hibitions are useless. Men are more upon an equality in
fighting than they were in the early ages of the world.
He admitted, however, that the spirit-stirring descrip-
tions of single combats with the fist or the cestus — those

232 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

between Pollux and Amycus, so admirably told by
Theocritus in his twenty-second Idyllium, and between
Dares and Entellus, in the fifth J^neid of Virgil,
especially — had induced him to be present at a sparring-
match between two celebrated boxers of his younger days.
' The attitude of these men,' said he, ' excited my highest
admiration ; that of one of them, in particular, reminding
me of Milton's descripton of the angel, whose

" starry helm unbuckled, show'd him prime

In manhood."1

The firm and erect posture of the body, the head drawn a
little back, the expanded chest, and the judicious position
of the brawny arms, certainly display the human form to
the greatest possible advantage ; and, in this particular
instance, I was favoured by a private display, by one of
the performers, of the grand and powerful expression of
his muscles, together with the agility and suppleness of
his movements. Having been instructed for the occasion,
he successively placed himself in the attitudes of the
fighting and dying gladiators, of the Hercules Farnese,
and other antique statues, as well as in that of the Atlas of
Michael Angelo ; finishing by exhibitions of strength and
activity beyond what I considered to exist in the human
form. This man became the champion of England ; and,
like the invincible Pancratiast of ancient Greece, finally
retired to his native place, not only with honours well
deserved by his bravery and good conduct in the ring,
but with a competency sufficient to render his situation
agreeable to him. Unwilling to be idle, however, he
became a teacher of gymnastic exercises, and was, in his
own person, the best example of their beneficial effects in
improving the health and increasing the strength and
beauty of the human figure.' "

1 What can be finer, or more true to the life, than Virgil's
description, in the fifth ^Eneid, of Entellus stripping in the
ring ?—

" Hie fatus, duplicem ex humeris refecit amiclum ;
Et magnos membrorum artus magna ossa lacertosque
Exuit ; atque iugens media consistit arena."

The same may be said of the set-to between Hector and Ajax, in
the fifth Iliad of Homer, and of the wrestling-match in the twenty-
third.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 233

" Well," observed the Captain, " I think your uncle
said nearly as much in favour of boxing or ' the science of
self-defence,' as we now call it, as he advanced in its dis-
praise ; and let me ask you whether you availed yourself
of the liberty given you to reply ? "

" Of course I did," answered our hero ; " and I think
I can call to mind most of the arguments I made use of.
Meeting him on his own ground, I reminded him of some
striking facts in the histories of the times to which he
alluded, favourable to the pursuit in question. In the
first place, I echoed your words, namely, that the love of
gladiatorial exhibitions, among the Romans, increased as
they began to be civilized, and as their manners in other
respects became more refined ; although I was obliged to
admit that it ceased when they became Christians ; and
we are very well assured that, amongst the ancient
Greeks, in the highest state of their refinement, education
was not considered complete in which the powers of the
body, as well as those of the mind, were not regarded and
cultivated to the utmost. The statue of Hercules, as well
as that of Mercury, adorned the gymnasia of Athens,
whilst that city was celebrated for the cultivation of every
liberal accomplishment ; and those of the higher orders in
society seldom passed a day without practising bodily
exercises in their gymnasia, of which boxing, we may
be assured, was one. Even in the time of Lycurgus,
sumptuary laws, and the proscription of everything that
had a tendency to soften the minds and enervate the
bodies of the Spartans, were enforced ; and, centuries
after that period, it was owing to Alexander the Great
sending 30,000 children, of the best families, to be
educated in Macedonian exercises, that he secured the
possession of the Persian empire, which he had acquired
solely by the effeminacy of the Persian soldiery.1 Amongst
the characters of fiction, equal honours have been given
to those who distinguished themselves in pugilistic en-
counters ; and the circumstance of the dandy, Dares,
thrashing the huge Entellus, shows that the use of the
fists was by no means beneath the practice of a gentleman.

1 Amongst the principal games celebrated in honour of Patroclus,
as enumerated in Homer's Iliad, boxing is mentioned ; and the
duel of Ulysses with the beggar Irus is one of the most diverting
incidents in the Odyssey. The King of Ithaca seems to have been
well calculated for the ring.

234 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Then care has been taken to prove that a bullying manner
rarely, if ever, accompanies true courage and even
consummate skill. For example : when Hector, in the
seventh book of the Iliad, is made to challenge to single
combat any of the Greek leaders, Ajax remains silent,
through modest reserve, till Nestor's speech rouses him to
an offer of meeting the defiance. Again, when the lot
falls upon him to be the champion on the occasion, the
same reserve marks his conduct. He merely expresses a
soldier's confidence in the result, and desires the Greeks
to pray to Jupiter for his success. Then, as I understand
is invariably the case with British pugilists, Homer takes
care to show that Ajax bore no personal ill-will towards
Hector when he went forth to fight him ; and it is on
this ground that Cicero, in his Tusculon questions, offers
an apology for the gladiatorial exhibitions of his country.1
I finished my exordium," continued our hero, " on British
boxing, with a short extract from Jackson's ' Stranger in
America,' which I had written in my memorandum book
for the express purpose : —

" ' Gouging, in the State of Georgia,' says the author,
' is thus practised : — the best man throws his antagonist
on the ground, and gets up with an eye in his hand, which
he has turned out of the socket with the thumb-stroke ; —
" The first eye for the honour of the State ! I ! " They use
their teeth, sharpened with a file, and bite off ears and
noses. A scuffle took place among some sailors ; one of
them, a practised gouger, knocked out the candle, gouged
out three eyes, bit off one ear, tore a few cheeks, and made
good his retreat ! ' "

" And what said your uncle to all this ? " asked the
Captain.

" Why, he gave a shudder, and expressed a wish to drop
the subject for the present."

" Had I been present at this conversation," resumed the
Captain, " I would have told your uncle that, although
the invention of gunpowder has put men more on an

1 Why Homer has chosen to represent Ajax as a loser in all the
games in which he is engaged at the funeral of Patroclus, is not
easily explained ; especially as they are of a nature in which his
bodily strength and vigour would have fair scope for exertion.
We may siippose, however, that, having fixed his reputation by
making him the resource of his countrymen on all important
occasions, it is of little consequence that others excel him in
sportive conflicts.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 235

equality in battle, still, as has been proved in our
numerous and generally victorious contests with the
enemy, physical power in our soldiers has greatly served
our cause. It has been ascertained by the means of an
^instrument called the dynamometer (or measure of
strength), that the English are the strongest of all
European nations, and, by a fourth part, stronger than
savages in a state of nature. Thus it appears that the
improvement of social order does not impair the physical
powers of man, as some persons have imagined ; but
experience has shown that the strength and activity of
the human frame, arising from the natural muscular
conformation of its parts, can be nearly trebled by proper
food and exercise, or what we call training. It has been
proved that, under such circumstances, man is infinitely
superior in strength to the horse, relatively to the size of
the latter, which is to that of a man as six or seven to
one ; and he is capable of being trained to beat him at
a continuance of labour. I, myself, walked 110 miles
in nineteen hours and twenty-seven minutes, and a man
named Granville went 142 miles in twenty-nine hours.
Taking the average of horses, not one in a thousand would
have performed either of these tasks.1 The mechanical
construction of man, however, is admirably adapted to
his destination under any circumstances in which he may
be placed ; but the degree of strength which is attainable
by exercise, and lost by effeminacy, is, unfortunately, not
generally considered, or it would cause many to withdraw
themselves from the slavery of luxury, and induce them
to enlist under the banners of temperance and exercise, the
true sources of enjoyment, and the only efficient means
of utility. And this state of additional strength in man,
together with health which none but those who have
experienced it can appreciate, is found by those who are
trained for the ring to be attained by plain but sub-
stantial food, with good malt liquor, or water, and not
through the means of soups, jellies, or rich sauces, and

1 An ingenious Frenchman ascertained the strength of the human
frame, by placing on every part of a man's body, standing upright,
a number of weights, in such a manner that each part supported
as much as it could bear, relatively to the rest ; and it was found
by this contrivance that a man could stand under 2000 pounds.
Supposing, then, the bulk of the body of a horse to be as I have
stated, he ought to bear a weight of 12,000 or 14,000 pounds,
which no horse could bear.

236 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

still less of spirituous liquors, or large quantities of wine,
which are all found detrimental both to health and
strength.

" Then look at our own case. Within the last ten days,
you and I have hunted nine times, the distances to and*
from the places of meeting averaging twenty miles. Now,
adding thereunto the several fine runs we have seen,
during the late succession of good sport, we may safely
reckon upon having ridden fifty miles per day, putting
the extra exertion of riding over the country out of the
question. Have either of us, let me ask, felt the slightest
degree of fatigue from the doings of these ten days ? On
the contrary, have we not felt invigorated, and, in every
respect, in better health ? Have we not enjoyed our meals,
and our wine, and our beds, rising in the morning with a
freshness not perceptible at other periods of the year,
in the summer months especially, when our exertions
necessarily abate ? Rely upon it, then, my young friend,"
added the Captain, with no slight emphasis, "manly
exercises of all sorts should be encouraged in the youth
of this country ; and although the practice of prize-
fighting cannot altogether be justified on moral grounds —
inasmuch as the training two persons for the express
purpose of inflicting serious injury to each other, in cold
blood, at the hazard of sacrificing their lives, while thou-
sands of their fellow-men are looking on, for their amuse-
ment, is undoubtedly opposed to Christian feeling ; still,
up to the present time, considerably more good than evil
has arisen from it, in upholding the national character for
courage and fair play, and enabling Englishmen to boast,
not merely of their courage and fair play in their quarrels,
but that England is the only country under the sun, in which
the knife or the dagger is not used to avenge insults or in-
juries. There are, I am sorry to add, some signs of a
departure from the strictly honourable conduct hitherto
displayed in the British ring, the consequence of Jews
becoming prominent characters in it : should this become
manifest, it will lose the patronage of those highly re-
spectable persons who now support it so liberally — many
of them on principle — and I have no hesitation in saying,
that my support, earnest as it has hitherto been, will, in
that case, be withdrawn. But it is not only from the
practice of boxing that national advantages are derived :
the use of the cudgel and back-sword, or single-stick — as

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 237

a stick with a basket to guard the hand is called — is
equally serviceable in ,its way ; and I will show you a
man, to-morrow, at the cover side, who is one of the best
swordsmen in the army of the present day, having derived
his superiority from the constant use of the back-sword
while at Rugby school."

The season drawing to a close, and Frank Raby, not
considering his stud strong enough to make a finish of it
at Melton, bent his steps homewards, and arrived at the
Abbey about the first week in April, having the pleasure
to find all his family in good health. Nearly the first
thing that he did, was to send for Mr. Robson, the
steward, and direct him as to making preparations for his
stud during the summer months ; neither was the order
a light one. But we will describe the meeting between
them on the occasion.

" Good morning to you, Robson," said our hero ; " I am
glad to see you well. I want to arrange about my hunters,
eight in number, which I intend shall remain here during
the summer."

"Exactly so," replied the Scotchman. "We have a

food prospect of a fine bite of grass in the park by
lay-day at furthest, and the Squire's hunters are always
turned out about that time. There is plenty of shade and
water, and it will do your heart good to see how the poor
beasts will gallop about and enjoy themselves on fine
summer days, and how fat they get. Then there will be
a fine herd of them together, with the Squire's eight,
and my lady's ponies, and all the hacks ; oh ! how they
will — — "

" Ay, ay ! I know what you are going to say, Robson,"
resumed the young Squire ; " but I am not going to turn
my horses into the park, to knock their legs to pieces in
galloping, and stamping to rid themselves of flies, besides
losing all their condition, which is now quite perfect.
You must run me up four hovels in a dry and retired
part of the park, dividing each into two, with four outlets
of ground, well railed in, of about a quarter of an acre
each. The doors must be double the common width, with
rollers to the side-posts ; and if no water be at hand, a
water-cart must be made to hold two days' consump-
tion, and a one-horse cart at command, to carry hay and
corn."

" Hay and corn ! " exclaimed Robson ; " why surely,

238 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

sir, you are not going to expend hay and corn on horses
when they do no work ! The expense of hunters is quite
enough in the winter months ; but surely, sir "

"Leave those matters to me," said Frank Raby ; "if
the Squire has no very good old oats, purchase twenty
quarters of the best for me, the next market day, and let
the hovels and paddocks be run up without delay, as my
horses will be ready to be put into them by the first week
in May. But I have forgotten one thing ; I understand
you will have both lucern and winter tares ready by that
time ; and you must order a cart-load of them to be
brought to the hunters, whenever my groom thinks it
proper to give them."

" The lucern and the tares will be very young at the
time you specify," resumed the steward. "It will be a
sore waste to cut them."

" The younger the better," answered our young sports-
man ; " there is no purpose to which you can put them,
that will pay half so well as that for which they are
required by me. But do not alarm yourself, Robson ; I
shall not want many of them, having been informed by
the best groom of the present day that much green food
of any sort is injurious to the condition of hunters ; and
on their condition does half of their excellence depend.
Indeed, the longer I live, the more I am convinced of the
truth of Mr. Warde's maxim, that ' the goodness and shape
of horses go in at their mouths.' "

The faithful steward having satisfied himself that
the sanction of his master had been obtained for this
outlay of capital, assured " Mr. Francis " that his orders
should be immediately executed, and with as much
economy as possible, observing, at the same time, that,
although he had never given the subject a moment's
consideration before, yet he was inclined to be of his
opinion as to the condition of the horses, which no doubt
would be very much affected by the sudden change of
keep.

" Besides," added he, " your horses, sir, will be safe in
the paddocks. Since I have lived with the Squire, we
have had three good hunters spoiled — two by being kicked
\>\r others, and one gored by an ox. I have heard Dick
the huntsman say that he never rode but one hunter that
he could not find the bottom of, in the course of the
season, and that was a roan horse, called Marplot, which

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 239

was obliged to be kept at house all summer, and for two
reasons : first, he was so vicious that he was dangerous to
the others in the park ; and secondly, his body was so
deep, in proportion to the length of his fore legs, that he
could not reach the ground with his mouth without great
difficulty, and of course straining his limbs. You do
not remember Marplot, Mr. Francis, but you have often
heard Dick talk of him. To be sure he always looked
very different to the other hunters, especially before
Christmas."

" And how was he treated in the summer 1 " inquired
Mr. Francis.

" He stood in the stable with the coach-horses, and Dick
rode him almost every day, when exercising the hounds,
in the park," was the answer.

" His goodness in the field, and his superior condition,
are accounted for," said our hero, as he walked away from
the steward ; and on his road to the house he met Dick
going towards the kennel. " Where now, Dick ? " said he
to the man whom he once thought more of, perhaps, than
of any other in the world — compared with whom Mr.
Egerton was a dunce, and even Sir John but second fiddle ;
— whose very words he had devoured as he sat on his
knee in the " hall," when describing the run of yesterday,
and anticipating that of to-morrow, which he had obtained
permission to witness.

" To the kennel, to feed, sir," replied Dick ; " will you
not come and see 'em ? "

" Not I, indeed, Dick," answered Frank Raby, " I would
not give twopence to see the best harriers in the world ;
in fact, I hate anything belonging to harriers. They are
always bow-wowing about the country, disturbing the
foxes, and they do more harm to farmers than two packs
of foxhounds, by being so long pottering in the same
place."

" Sorry to hear you talk so, Mr. Francis," said the old
huntsman, evidently chagrined at these remarks, " but our
hounds, you know, never hang long about any one place.
Indeed, the verv last day but one, the Squire was saying he
wished you ha4 been with us, on one of your best hunters ;
we went from Burton Clumps to Fox's Barn, good eight
miles, as straight as a crow ever flew ; and, out of nine-
teen horsemen, six onlv were up when we killed the
hare."

240 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

"Horsemen!" said our hero contemptuously, — "what
sort of horsemen 1 "

" Why, some of the right sort, sir," replied Dick ; " Mr.
Hammond was one of them that could not go to the end,
and Farmer Williams on the old grey mare."

"The old grey mare," continued Frank, "fed upon
clover, hay, and Swedish turnips in the winter, and lying
with the feeding oxen all the summer."

" Beg pardon, sir," resumed Dick ; " it is true the old
mare lies with the feeding oxen in the summer, but the
old gentleman gives her the best of everything in the
winter, and the Squire's horses do not eat better hay or
corn. Then there was Lord Brock on one of his Leicester-
shire horses ; his Lordship had quite enough of it at the
finish ; and, what was more, I heard him tell the Squire
that he never saw hunting quite perfect till that day. It
certainly was a beautiful sight to see how the hounds did
their work from first to last ; how they turned with the
scent, and what a head they carried ; and how the blood
of old Tyrant told at the last, for every hound was in his
place."

Time had been when Frank Raby would have been
entranced with this short but graphic description of an
eight miles' burst, but the charm was now dispelled ; so,
turning on his heel, he pursued his course with merely
telling Dick " it was all very fine, but he had taken his
leave of thistle-whipping."

Our hero's next visit was to the keeper, to inquire into
the state of his kennel. This he found quite to his satis-
faction. It contained three brace of well-broken setters ;
three couples and a half of spaniels, all as mute as a gate-
post ; two capital Newfoundlanders, then just coming into
fashion as retrievers of wounded game ; and four brace of
greyhounds of the best blood in the country, some of them
having proved themselves such by the various prizes they
had gained. But matters did not end here. Two brace
of fine young setters had been sent off into Cheshire,
in the pairing season, to be broken on the down-
charge system, by old Potts, and were not as yet returned.
" Your kennel, Perren, is all right," said our hero ;
" I think there will be few better teams than mine,
next year, on the moors. How does Jack get on in his
business ? Is he improved in his shooting and vermin-
catching '? "

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 241

" There is not a better shot than Jack in the country,
sir," replied Perren ; " and as to vermin-catching, not a
crow nor a magpie can escape him, much less a weasel or
a stoat. I'll back him, indeed, to kill magpies against any
keeper in England."

" How does he go to work 1 " inquired Frank Raby.

"Why, sir, perhaps you will smile when I tell you,'1
answered the keeper ; "he gets a live magpie and a catr
and has them staked down near to a wood, within a certain
distance of each other, but not quite within reach, when
the cries of the bird, at fear of the cat, are so loud and
unnatural as to bring every magpie in the wood to the
spot. He is sure to get a double shot ; and such is the
infatuation of these birds, by the scene that is going onr
that they return to the spot, and thus afford him a second,,
and sometimes a third chance."

" By the way, Perren," said our hero, " I heard a good
story of a magpie the other day in London — or, I had
rather said, the mention of the bird was very happily
applied. A friend of the Prince of Wales, who says many
good things, and is to a certain extent privileged to say
them in the royal presence, was complimenting his Royal
Highness on the excellence of his cook, adding that he
supposed ' there was only one pie which baffled his skill.'
' What pie is that 1 ' inquired the Prince. ' Why, sir/
replied the wag, ' he cannot make a mac/pie.' "

" And how are you off for foxes ? ;) continued Frank
Raby. "Although I do not hunt in this country, and
perhaps never shall do so, I am not on that account the-
less anxious that a good head of foxes should be found in
it, and in our own covers especially."

" We were not deficient last season, sir," replied the
keeper ; " and they have whipped off from two heavy
vixens within the last fortnight ; there is also a litter of
cubs already in the Big Wood ; but a bad misfortune
happened to Jack, a few weeks back. He laid a trap over-
night for a polecat, and found a fox in it in the morning,
and, what was worst of all, a heavy vixen, almost ready to*
lay up her cubs."

" And what then 1 " exclaimed our young sportsman
hastily ; " was she dead ? "

"She was not dead, sir," replied the keeper, "but her
leg was so dreadfully mangled that I cut off the injured
part and let her go. She was, however, found dead, a few?
16

242 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

days afterwards, by one of our woodmen, in the Birch
Coppice. Jack immediately told me of what happened,
and requested that you should be informed of it, sir, for
which I gave him praise."

" That was much to his credit," resumed our young
sportsman. "Jack always was a good fellow, and I am
sure he would almost as soon have had his own leg in
a trap of his own setting as that of a fox ; but, in future,
let him give over setting traps of any sort. I hear keepers
say rabbit-traps do no harm, but I know to the contrary ;
they not only will hold and maim foxes, but foxes will
not lie in covers where they are set."

In our zeal for the success of the stables and kennel, we
have passed over the family at the Abbey without a word
of notice. After an absence of some months, and those
forming part of the second year after the melancholy
event that occurred, in the death of the eldest son, Frank
Raby was not void of anxiety, on his arrival at the Abbey,
as to the state in which he might find his father and
mother. In Mr. Raby he observed little, if any, visible
alteration either in person or manner. As regarded the
former, his uniform habits of life, a naturally sound con-
stitution, regular out-of-doors' exercise, and, up to a late
period, almost uninterrupted prosperity, if they had not
bidden defiance to the all-consuming power of Time, had
caused his hand to fall so lightly upon him, that, in the
eyes of Frank, he did not appear to be a day older than
when he first knew him as his father ; and as regarded
the latter — his demeanour in the family circle — he had
called both philosophy and religion to his aid in bearing
up against a blow which he had not the power to ward
off. But not so the amiable and motherly Lady Charlotte.
The loss of her favourite son — the first-born of her love —
had so scathed and scorched her soul, that neither the
sympathy and kind offices of her friends, nor the most
delicate and cherishing attentions of her family — still less
the occupation and amusements sought out for her, were
able to dissipate her grief, and wean her from the recollec-
tion of her child, and the tragical scenes she had gone
through. She would occasionally appear joyless where
all around was gay ; the hue of health and contentment
had nearly forsaken her complexion ; and her smiles,
which were wont to be so redundant, were now as transient
and fleeting as an April sun, peeping from beneath a

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 243

watery cloud, but obscured nearly as suddenly as it bursts
forth. Such vicissitudes as these, however, are fearful
lessons to all possessors of wealth and honours ; and their
participation in them tends to render those who possess
not such dazzling appearances more satisfied and contented
with their lot. But Lady Charlotte's trial was not yet
completed. Having constantly present to her inind the
figure of her departed son during his illness — the deep
red hectic spot that burned in the centre of his cheek ;
the skin of his forehead of that transparent white which
added the mockery of beauty to the ravages of disease ;
his bright brown hair having that silken flow peculiar
to persons of delicate frame ; his form wasted to a fearful
thinness — to the utmost extent, indeed, to which the
human frame can be reduced without being dissolved ;
and in his gait, the flat-footed tread of weakness, instead
of the bounding step of youth which once was his ; when
dwelling upon this sad picture, then, and viewing it, as
she did, through the medium of a morbid imagination,
natural though we may allow it to have been, — for, as
the poet says —

"When trees do drop their fruits in autumn ripeness,
Tis Nature's common course, and so we look on't ;
But when unseasonous frosts nip promising buds,
And lovely blossoms, then the heart grows sad
To see those troth -plights of much after riches
Untimely broken ; " —

she ever and anon fancied that signs of the same insidious
complaint were visible in the person of her eldest daughter,
just budding into womanhood. Then her imagination was
strengthened and her fears increased by having read in
books that there is a sacred halo round those whom we
see in the bloom of years destined for the grave, and even
that — bugbear as it might be — would occasionally present
itself to her diseased mind. Here, however, her prayers
were heard, and the cup of bitterness was not suffered to
overflow. Nature came to the relief of one of the fairest
of her creatures : as the frame of Miss Raby expanded,
her strength proportionately increased, and in three years
from the period to which we are alluding, there were not
two healthier nor handsomer young ladies than herself in
her own county, or in the next. The health and spirits of
her amiable and once beautiful mother also revived to

244 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

a certain degree, and that was as much as could be ex-
pected ; for the heart of woman —

is like the youthful tree

The lightning strikes to earth ;
Once scathed, its bloom no more will be :
It knows no second birth."

The domestic news, and that of the immediate neighbour-
hood, had been conveyed to our hero by letters from the
various members of his family, during his sojourn in
Oxfordshire ; and his uncle had been visited by him for
a few days, during a temporary stop to hunting by frost.
Mr. Egerton had succeeded to the living of Arnstead, it
having been presented to him by Mr. Raby on the decease
of Dr. Chapman ; was married at the end of the twelve-
month to the second Miss Chapman ; and, having the
promise from Sir John Inkleton of the living of Orton,
on the decease of its then incumbent, far advanced in
years, this amiable man and sound scholar had every
prospect of happiness within the range of his moderate
desires. Neither were his expectations ill-founded. He
lived to see his family grow up and prosper ; and it is
scarcely necessary to add that he proved a treasure to his
parishioners ; for, independent of being an excellent
classical scholar, he possessed what, to be a good divine,
every man of that order ought to possess — namely, a
tolerable fund of every species of useful knowledge ; and
being conversant with many other branches of science
besides the classics and the doctrine of his own sacred
calling, he became generally conducive to the benefit of
those whose souls were committed to his care.

CHAPTER XIV

A few words on summering hunters. Mr. Corbet's country and
men, and the finish of the season with the Atherstone.

AS may be supposed, the paddocks for summering the
hunters were finished by the appointed time, and
the orders of our young sportsman had been strictly
complied with in the construction of them. Each hovel
contained two horses, which were shut up in them at

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 245

night, as well as in the heat of the day, when wetted
matting was placed in the open windows, to cool the air,
and prevent the entrance of flies. Their hours of being
let loose in the small space of ground allotted to them, on
the outside of their hovels, were from four to eight or
nine in the morning, and from seven or eight to ten in
the evening, unless the weather was wet, when they were
invariably confined to their hovels. Their food was,
occasionally, tares or lucern, in some cases mixed with
their hay ; and in no instance were they allowed green
meat altogether for more than three or four consecutive
days. And another precaution was observed. The horses
were sorted according to the nature of their constitution —
those which carried much flesh being put together, and
vice versa, the quantity of their food being regulated
accordingly. In the case of two, indeed, such was their
aptitude to gather flesh, that, after the first month, they
were ridden out to exercise for at least two hours, in a cool
place, and on turf. Their general allowance of oats was
three-quarters of a peck to each horse, in the twenty -four
hours, a few old beans being given to two of them, who
were a little deficient in stamina, although the most
brilliant of the whole stud in a burst. Their hinder
shoes were taken off, but their fore feet were protected
by tips, and their toes were kept shortened, the same as
if they had been in work, although little was done to the
sole, and the frog not touched at all. Each horse, with the
exception of one that had thrushes, and which was under
a process of cure by the groom, stood in wetted clay for
the space of two hours daily, for the benefit of their feet
and legs, and some light doses of physic were administered
to such as exhibited symptoms of foulness. Alterative
powders, also, consisting of levigated antimony and
sulphur, were given in their corn to three who did not
coat well in the preceding winter, and the best effects
were experienced from them. The stud were put into
these paddocks on the 8th day of May, and taken into
the stables again on the 1st day of August, during which
time no accident of any kind occurred to them. More-
over, their condition was excellent ; that is to say, to
commence the preparation for severe work in the hunt-
ing season, from the firmness of their flesh in the first
instance ; from their not being overladen with it, to the
injury of their legs, in the second ; and from only a

246 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

trifling diminution of muscular powers, in the third.
The feet of these horses also appeared very different to
what their groom had hitherto seen in those of hunters
previously under his care, which had run abroad for three
months in the summer. They were, in fact, in a more
perfect state than when they had left oil' work in the
spring, as far as crust and sole and frog were concerned ;
and, moreover, their form altogether had approached
nearer to the natural one, by having proper attention paid
to them during three months' growth.

This system of summering hunters having been never
before seen, nor even heard of, in this part of the country,
it excited no little surprise, and the expression of sage
opinions that the young Squire's hunters would be spoiled
for want of their summer's run in the park, which the
old Squire's hunters had always enjoyed, and those of
the Squire's father before him. The following dialogue
occurred between Mr. Robson the steward, Dick the hunts-
man, and Frank Raby's groom, as they were looking at the
horses in the paddocks.

" Poor beasts," said the Scotchman ; " I am sorry to see
you shut up this way, in a prison, instead of enjoying
yourselves at your pleasure in the park, after the hard-
ships you have undergone. And " (addressing himself to
James the groom), said he, " who put all this new fashion
into Mr. Francis's head 1 "

" Lord Sandford's groom, sir," replied James.

"And are you not sorry, James, that your master
listened to him ? — are you not sorry to see the poor beasts
shut up after this manner 1 " resumed the steward.

" Indeed I am not, sir," answered James ; " for if it has
the same effect on these horses that it had last winter on
Lord Sandford's, I shall not have the trouble with them
next winter that I had last."

" What d'ye mean, James ? " inquired the steward.

"I mean this, sir," said the groom: "I had rather
look after three horses in the same condition that Lord
Sandford's were all through the last season, from the very
beginning indeed, than after any two we had in our stud.
They were cleaned in half the time it took to clean ours
after hunting ; and what is more, they never broke out
into a cold sweat, as ours so often did, after we thought
we had got them quite dry and comfortable. Then I
used to watch them when they were going to cover, in

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 247

the morning, along with our horses, especially before
Christmas. Ours would be in a sweat if the morning was
at all close, whilst my lord's would be as dry as a bone.
I thought to myself, sir, that this must be a great
advantage to these horses over ours, when they came to
follow the hounds through a run, as, for my own part, I
always feel weak after sweating much in my work. So
you see, sir, if it is a little hard on master's horses to
be pent up in those places all the summer, instead of
galloping about and playing in the park, they get the best
of it in the winter, by being in so much better heart for
their work. Then, again, they are not tormented with
the flies here, as they are in the park, for I have often
watched the old Squire's hunters in the summer, and
been really sorry to see how they were plagued. It was
nothing but stamp, stamp, stamp, all day long. And"
(addressing the huntsman) "you remember, Dick, that
you always said your famous old mare, the Queen, would
not have turned roarer, nor Stumps have gone broken-
winded, if they had not been turned out to grass."

" I certainly did so," replied Dick, " and think so still.
Indeed, I am something inclined, Mr. Robson, to be of
James's way of thinking as to keeping hunters in the
summer months. I have often said to myself, when I
have seen the horses I ride with the hounds galloping
about this park, where the ground has been as hard as a
barn-floor, surely I give you enough of galloping in the
hunting season. Then, again, they come up so fat from
this good land, that they never seem to me to be anything
like themselves till after Christmas is turned ; and,
moreover, when I have done with them for the season,
and they are stripped for turning out for the summer,
they appear to me to be just in proper trim."

" Well," said Mr. Robson, " I am not one of those who
refuse to listen to reason ; and from what I have heard
from James and yourself, I am much disposed to believe
that this method of treating valuable hunters may be
better than letting them run loose in the park, that is
to say, as far as their condition is concerned ; but the
expense is very great."

" One would think so," resumed James, " but master
says it is not. Indeed, he declares it is much the cheapest
plan ; and Lord Sandford"'s groom told me he has often
heard my lord say he considers he has saved £2000 in

248 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

the five years that he has tried it in his large stud. In
the first place, never a summer, he said, passed over
before, that some accident, or indeed accidents, did not
happen which occasioned him to buy more horses ; and,
in the next, he said that, if one of the stud only were to
be sold at Tattersall's at the commencement of the follow-
ing season he would fetch as much extra price, by his
superior condition and appearance, as would repay the
expenses of summering the whole lot on this plan. In
fact, the groom told me he had seen my lord's own
calculation, which showed that, had he to pay for his
twelve hunters at grass for three months in the summer,
the difference between the charge for it, and the expenses
of keeping them after this fashion, would not be more
than twenty-five or thirty pounds at furthest."

" Depend upon it, my lord is right ! " exclaimed Dick.

" "Well, I think so, too," observed the Scotchman.

" 1 am quite sure of it" said the groom ; " and I am
also sure that no gentleman's horses in any hunt we may
go into next season, unless it is Lord Sandford's, and a
few others, belonging to some of his friends who have
acted on his plan, will look as ours will look ; and I have
reason to believe we shall be able to do with one helper
less in the stables."

" That will be no trifle," said the steward, and here the
conversation dropped.

When the next season commenced, the appearance and
condition of the horses fully answered the expectations of
our young sportsman and his groom — the latter, indeed,
feeling proud of them, and, of course, claiming the merit
to himself ; and after a fortnight's hare-hunting with his
father, Frank Raby and his stud made their appearance
in Warwickshire. But why select Warwickshire, when
other and more fashionable countries were at his option —
Leicestershire, Northamptonshire, &c. ? The answer is
comprised in a few words. Neither his purse nor his
stud was then equal to Leicestershire, in the first place ;
and in the next, he was strongly recommended to
Warwickshire, on account of the gentleman who then
hunted it, and the harmony and good fellowship that was
said to distinguish the society of that long-established
Hunt, and of the neighbourhood generally in which the
headquarters of the Hunt were established. And who
was the gentleman who then hunted Warwickshire, and

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 249

was considered so particularly worthy of our young
sportsman's notice. The justly celebrated Mr. Corbet —
and celebrated, not merely as a master of foxhounds and
a sportsman, but as possessing, to the greatest extent, the
manners and deportment of the highly- finished gentleman,
although of a school of a somewhat earlier date than the
period to which we now allude. But it was from a desire
on the part of his father and a few of his particular
friends, that Frank Raby should witness a specimen of
the school which had given to Mr. Corbet these highly-
finished manners and deportment, that a visit to this
country, in preference to any other, was urged upon
him.

" I see a little of it," said Mr. Raby to his son, when
discussing these matters, "in my own small way, as
master of a pack of harriers ; but, depend upon it, there
are not many situations in which the manners, the
deportment, and the temper of men are oftener called
forth into action, and this to public view, than when
placed in the trying one of master of English foxhounds.
First, be it remembered, it is a post of no trifling
eminence, and is apt to engender a little pride of place, as
most other situations do."

In this situation, then, as master of a pack of fox-
hounds, Mr. Corbet was considered a pattern-card ; and
as Mr. Raby had good reason to believe that, one day or
another, his son would be similarly placed, he was on
that account more anxious for his visiting Warwickshire
whilst Mr. Corbet. hunted it. He was also informed that
there were a few very eniment sportsmen, members of
this Hunt, from whom some good lessons might be
derived. That he was not disappointed in the result, the
following letter from our young sportsman to his friend
Hargrave will pretty clearly show : —

" STRATFOBD-DPON-AVON, Dec. 9.

"DEAR HARGRAVE, — I am delighted with all I have
hitherto seen in Warwickshire. Although there are a
few rough fixtures in it, it is, taken altogether, a right
good fox-hunting country, and as full of foxes as it can
hold. Indeed, they say here that the life of a fox is
quite as safe from the gun of the poacher or farmer, as
the life of a man is from the hand of the assassin. And
I do not marvel at this. Old Corbet, as he is called, is

250 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

the most proper man I have ever yet seen as a master of
foxhounds, and as such, of course, popular amongst all
descriptions of persons. The farmers, indeed, appear to
adore him (as they generally do a really well-bred
gentleman, which Mr. C. is), and the gentlemen love and
respect him. He is also a good sportsman, and a perfect
enthusiast when his hounds are in chase, although, strange
to say, he will not ride over anything approaching to a
large fence. How he gets on as he does — for he is
generally pretty near at the end of the run — I cannot
imagine, unless it be by his intimate knowledge of the
country, as well as of the line foxes generally take, and
the speed and goodness of his horses, which are first-rate.
His huntsman, Will Burrows, is my delight. He is a
sulky -looking fellow, and I believe his looks do not belie
him ; but it is when his hounds are running that he
excites my admiration. In the first place, he is a beautiful
horseman ; in the next, his pipe is the clearest and most
melodious you ever heard. Then, to hear him cheer his
hounds, — the bitches, especially, which are his favourites
— transports one. He finishes his thrilling halloo, which
he ever and anon encourages them with, even when going
their best pace, with — ' Have at him, my lasses, and stick
to him till he dies.' But as to his never being many
yards from his lasses, who can wonder at that, seeing the
cattle he rides ? He has four slapping nags, able to carry
fourteen stone, whereas his weight with his saddle does
not exceed eleven. And a word or two about his horses,
not a bad hint for us who hope one day or another to
keep foxhounds. All Mr. Corbet's horses, with the
exception of those he himself breeds, are purchased, at
weaning time, from his tenants or the neighbouring
farmers. He thus has not only a great choice, but has
the advantage of having all geldings, and no mares, in his
stables. I understand the price he gives is, generally,
about twenty pounds, which, reckoning good keep for the
next four years, puts excellent five-year-olds into his stud
at about eighty pounds, which no doubt is cheaper than
purchasing them — all risks included.

" Mr. Corbet's hounds are, in my opinion, very good,
but his blood does not, I believe, rank quite so high as
that of some other kennels. They say he has done
mischief — causing a certain degree of slackness — by
breeding too much in-and-in, or from one particular sort.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 251

Tliis has given him the somewhat classic title of the
Father of the Trojans, and the foundation of it is this.
Many years back, when he hunted another country, his
hounds came to a check at the wall of a gentleman's park.
The scent appeared to be lost, when one hound, called
Trojan, was seen carrying it along the top of the wall, on
which the fox had run, and thus baffled his pursuers for
a time. This was the distinguishing characteristic of the
hound alluded to ; and his after-performances being on a
par with it, be became not only the favourite stud-hound
in the kennel, but nearly the founder of an entire pack,
in which the parent cross was carried too far. As pro-
fessed judges entertain this opinion of Mr. C.'s hounds,
it would ill become me to dispute it ; but this I will say,
that, as far as I have seen them in the field, I can find
very little to condemn. The newly prevailing fashion
of dividing the sexes is adopted in the field, and the
character of the two packs is that, although under very
adverse circumstances the dogs may be the most efficient,
the bitches are more brilliant with a straight-running fox
and a good scent. Of the country, as I have already said,
there is good and indifferent — none very bad, but the
good greatly prevails ; and by way of giving you an idea
of the part esteemed indifferent, I must tell you that
I saw a run, last week, from one of the covers in it,
called Farnborough, of twelve miles, in which we only
crossed one ploughed field ! On the other hand, on the
Northamptonshire side of the country, there is as fine a
grazing district as is to be seen in Leicestershire or
Northamptonshire. Then there is another country, called
the Meriden country, which these hounds hunt for two
periods in the year, and we have just been staying at
Meriden, on the high road from Coventry to London,
where the kennel is, and whence it is called the Meriden
country. The covers are large and frequent, and it is
altogether very unlike the Stratford country ; but, speak-
ing as a sportsman, I cannot withhold my praise of it.
It is a fine, wild, fox-hunting-looking country, in which
the foxes are so good that they seldom hang at all in the
covers, which are, for the most part, well cut into rides,
and we have been having very good sport in it. But it
being better calculated for spring- hunting, when travelling
foxes are to be met with, I anticipate a great treat on our
next visit to Meriden.

252 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" I have been elected a member of the Stratford Hunt
Club, which dine together every day, at the head inn in the
town, the room in which they dine being honoured with
the title of one of Shakspeare's plays. Mr. Corbet gives us
his company every Thursday, when numerous visitors are
added to our party, and he generally gives us a dinner at
his house once in the course of the week. We have great
fun in the ' Tempest,' for that is the name of our room ;
but beyond a bottle of claret, and the wine drunk at
dinner, nothing like excess is committed. Great part of
the 'fun' proceeds from handicapping our horses, and
sporting our hands when the award is made ; but beyond
a few pounds hazarded in this way, and five or ten pounds
on a rubber at whist, nothing like gambling is practised
in the ' Tempest.' But perhaps the most interesting part
of my letter may be a description of some of the leading
members of this celebrated hunt. First, then, let me tell
you, there are two brothers, by the name of Cannons,
Warwickshire men, who are absolute prodigies in the
field, the younger one especially, whose name is Robert.
'The elder rides, at least, seventeen stone and a half, and
Robert sixteen stone ; notwithstanding which, not a light-
weight in the country can beat them ; in fact, Robert is
-decidedly the best man in the hunt, let the pace or the
-country be what it may. But what surprises me is, in
the first place, the extraordinary sort of eagle-eye this man
— I mean the younger Cannons — has to a country, when
making his way over it with hounds, and also when re-
turning home after hunting, when he may be called the
oracle of the field. ' Which is the best way ? ' says one.
•*Ask Robert Cannons,' is the answer invariably given.
Then his coolness, when hounds are running, also
astonishes me. He never appears to be in a hurry, much
less in a nutter ; and I have already derived more instruc-
tion from seeing him ride to hounds than I have hitherto
derived from all former experience. And, added to all
these good qualities, as a horseman in the field, he has
the most beautiful and light hand on his horse I have
•ever yet beheld ; he never is seen quarrelling with, or
molesting him in any way, but, as though they were
incorporated with each other, they go sailing along, like
a ship before the wind, and very nearly as straight. In
fact, few fences can stop this fine sportsman — for such he
likewise is — by reason of the weight of metal himself and

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 253,

his horses oppose to them ; and it is astonishing how few
falls he gets, taking the season throughout, in which he-
never misses a day at the cover side. Nor is it only in.
Warwickshire that he shines. I was told that, one day
last season, he was quite a leading man in a severe burst
over Leicestershire with the Cottesmore hounds, although
he got a very indifferent start. He is, of course, well
mounted, and is occasionally offered immense prices for
his horses, which, however, he generally declines. He
has now two horses — the Conqueror and Knowsley, the
latter an entire horse — for which I would willingly
give him 1000 guineas, could I conveniently spare the-
money. But as I have taken upon myself to sketch the
characters of these gentlemen, I must not stop at their
mere accomplishments in the field. They are all that
is amiable and delightful in private life, and their
hospitality has no bounds. For instance, it was only last
week that I myself made one of a dozen sportsmen — tert
in scarlet, and two in black coats — that turned out each
morning, equipped for the field, having been domiciled
under their roof for a week, and fed with the best o£
everything.

" We have likewise two very celebrated sportsmen in
this country, whose names stand high in Leicestershire ;
namely, John Halls and John Lockwood. The former is
one of the very best of the gentlemen jockeys at Bibury,.
and the latter remarkable for the high prices for whick
he has sold his horses, after distinguishing themselves
under his weight — upwards of fourteen stone. A short
time back he sold one, called Faith, for 750 guineas, in>
consequence of his having been the only one that could,
live with the hounds over Newbold Field, and leap a
large fence into Lord Northampton's park afterwards..
So anxious was the gentleman who purchased him to^
possess himself of such a treasure, that he sent an express
off, in the night of the day on which the circumstance
occurred, to make an offer of the money, in case another
customer should be before him. Newbold Field is
certainly one of the most distressing pieces of ground
that I ever rode over, and Faith must be, as he has the
appearance of being, a most superior horse to have crossed
it on the day I allude to, when it was in a very tender
state, and very highly ridged.

" There is a very gentleman-like young man hunting;

254 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

with us here — indeed, he resides within the limits of the
hunt — who has introduced a somewhat novel.style of seat on
his horse, which, although perhaps he may carry it to an
extreme, appears to succeed with him, and will, no doubt,
induce many to follow his example, to a certain extent.
I allude to the increased length of stirrup-leather which
this man, whose name is Welch Posten, allows himself,
extending almost beyond that used by the military, or in
the manege. It is likewise worthy of notice, that, although
his height is nearly six feet, he rides two mares neither
of which are fifteen hands high, but which are very
difficult to beat with their owner on their backs. I am
told he gave 400 guineas for them, and they are well
worth the money, being very accomplished fencers, and
nearly thorough-bred. You have often heard me say
that I thought both you and myself used stirrup-leathers
of not sufficient length ; and the case I now allude to
confirms me in that opinion, so much so that I have
dropped my stirrups at least three holes. I am convinced
that I sit easier on my horse by having my weight placed
near to the shoulder, on that part, indeed, which is the
point of union in the horse, instead of near to the loins,
which are the weakest part of his frame.

" But speaking of extraordinary men in our line, I
must say a word of one in this hunt, whose equal, perhaps,
is nowhere else to be found. His name is Stibbs, and
so inveterate a lover of the chase is he, that he is not
contented with hunting with Mr. Corbet's foxhounds four
days a week, which is the number of their hunting days,
with a bye one occasionally, but he absolutely keeps a
pack of harriers, to hunt the other two. The climax,
however, is yet to come. On being informed, one Sunday
morning, that a fox which had been brought to him over
night, had escaped from the place in which it was
confined, he ordered horses to be saddled for himself and
his man, and letting out his hounds, laid them on the
scent of the fugitive, and killed him after a sharp burst !
This very extraordinary man never misses a day in the
season ; he knows hunting well, and is rapturously fond
of it, but, being shy of fences, sees very little of a run ;
nevertheless, by an intimate knowledge of the country,
like his friend Mr. Corbet, he generally appears shortly
-after the chase is finished, be it never so good.

" One of the bright features in this hunt is a ball and

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 255

supper, given annually to the ladies and gentlemen of the
neighbourhood, at the sole expense of the members of it.
That for this year took place last week, and certainly was
one of the best I ever witnessed out of London. How-
ever, a description of such matters is not much in my
line, neither do I suppose it would be very interesting to
you ; still, as I know you like a neat effusion of the lyric
muse, and especially when she sings of the chase, I will
transcribe a song that was made for the occasion by the
Rev. T. Willy, and sung by him after supper, with the
very best effect : —

' The triumphs of heroes let others declare,
Or in ecstasy sing of the charms of the fair ;

Of love, or of war, may the verse freely flow !
Let the glass aid the song, while those pleasures I trace
Those enlivening joys which arise from the chase.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — see the well-chosen

Pack, how they gallantly go !

A southerly wind, and light clouds in the sky,
The air mild and fresh, nerves and spirits all high,

Tallyho ! tallyho ! to the cover we go :
Hark ! Reveller's speaking — By heavens ! 'tis good,
Get forward, and cheer them well out of the wood.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — see the well-chosen

Pack, how together they go !

Erect in his stirrups, with listening eye,
The master is catching at Batchelor's cry ;

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — all seem eager to go.
Restrain your wild ardour, as yet, within bounds,
And wait to ride after, not over, the hounds.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — see the well-chosen

Pack, how together they go !

With eye beaming cunning, and light-tripping pace,
See the fox steals away — hear the pack m full chase ;

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — how together they go !
Hold hard, for a moment, and give them fair play :
You'll all want your top-speed, if they once get away.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — see together they go.

How some, fairly mounted, go striding along,
While others hard labour with bit, steel, and thong :

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — how they struggle to go !
Hold hard ! is the word, but I strongly suspect,
Not the hounds, but some horses are brought to a check.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — how they gallantly go !

256 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Yon fence seems a tickler — get on to the charge ;

See the ground appears sound, though the ditch may be large ;

Tallyho ! tallyho !— get forward, sir, go.
One tops it, one baulks it, and, craning, turns round,
While a third quits his seat for a seat on the ground.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — how together they go !

For a moment a sheep-foil now baffles the scent,

See them stooping and questing— each tries where he went;

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — how they cautiously go !
Old Trojan has hit it— no doubt can remain ;
Not a moment is lost — they're together again.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — how they gallantly go !

Now mark, in the valley, how motley the scene ;
Here men want their horses — here horses want men :

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — very few seem to go !
One loses a shoe, and another votes lame ;
Who is that in the brook ? — Oh ! ask not his name.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — how together they go !

Once more, wet and weary, poor Reynard is view'd ;
By few, save the pack, any longer pursued ;

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — they are good ones that go !
Nor pluck, speed, nor cunning, the chase can prolong ;
WHO-WHOOP ! is the word, and who-whoop to my song.

Tallyho ! tallyho ! — may the Warwickshire

Pack ever gallantly go.'

" Now, my dear Hargrave, I think I have told you
nearly all that can interest you respecting this part of
Warwickshire, which I strongly recommend you to visit
next season. I think you will agree with me, that it is
one which cannot fail to show sport, with a good pack of
hounds, which those that now hunt it really are ; and
it is not very difficult to ride over. Your horses are,
no doubt, good timber and brick jumpers, as you have
plenty of that work in Essex ; but, when you come into
Warwickshire, you must expect a few falls, until your
horses learn to extend themselves in their leaps more than
what is required in Essex, many of the Warwickshire
fences being composed of either a strong blackthorn
hedge, or a flight of rails, with a wide ditch to boot, which,
if it happen to be on the landing side, acts as a trap to
your nag, unless he be prepared for it, by extending
himself in his leap. There are not many double fences ;
less, I think, than in any other country in which I have
hunted ; but unless a horse can go well in dirt, he has

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 257

no business in Warwickshire, for some part of it is
infernally deep, especially on the breaking up of a frost.
I saw every horse blown to a standstill in twelve minutes,
the other day, in the neighbourhood of Southon, which is
the deepest part of any. It was a ridiculous scene, when
about a dozen of us came to a low gate, which none of
our horses had the power to leap. Robert Cannons at last
crammed his horse through it, and so released us from our
prison ; for there was no other way of getting out of the
field, from the immense height and strength of the fence.
In the Meriden country your horses will excel, because the
fences there are, for the most part, placed on a bank, and
not planted on the ground, as in the Stratford. I am
going to finish the season in the Atherstone country,
from whence you may hear from me again. In the
meantime believe me, dear Hargrave, truly yours to
the end,

"FRANCIS BABY."

No small degree of interest was excited in the breast of
our young sportsman on his arrival in the Atherstone
country, by reason of the high character he had heard of
the nobleman who then hunted it, and also of his hunts-
man, who had the reputation of being one of the best at
that time of his class. The former was the amiable Lord
Varney ; the latter, the civil and unpresuming Sam
Lawton, as clever a huntsman as ever hallooed to a hound,
and equally good in the saddle. The hunt was dis-
tinguished as being composed of a select number of
gentlemen, of high character in their calling, and every-
thing in Lord Varney's hunt was conducted with a pi-o-
priety and respectability that left nothing to be wished
for by the members of it, or by those who occasionally

joined it.

The Atherstone country is soon described. On the
Staffordshire side it is woodland, and bad for scent ; on
those of Derbyshire and Leicestershire, very good indeed.
In fact, from Burbage Wood, or Tooley Park, or Bosworth,
a run may be seen over as fine a country as even a Melton
man would desire. And the mention of a Melton man
reminds me that I may as well at once transcribe the
first letter from Frank Raby to his friend Hargrave,
inasmuch as, amongst other matters, it has reference to
the doings of Melton men, in conjunction with those

17

258 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

of some of the conspicuous characters of Lord Yarney's
hunt.

"ATHERSTONE, Feb. 2.

" DEAR HARGRAVE, — According to promise, I report
progress in this country, as it is my intention to do of
others which I may visit, to the end that, when you are
able to break loose from your trammels (but mind me,
Hargrave, I commend you for complying with the wishes
of your excellent father, and confining yourself to Essex,
so long as he continues to express them, for he is deserv-
ing of everything at your hands), you may also visit such
as I recommend, and eschew such as are not worthy of
your notice.

" In the first place, you will be greatly pleased with the
noble master of the pack. He has all those mild and
amiable features in his character and deportment which dis-
tinguish the English gentleman, together with as much of
the consciousness of superiority in society which, in courtesy,
we accede to the English nobleman. He is also as much
of a sportsman as it is necessary that a master of foxhounds
should be who employs an experienced huntsman ; but
in this respect, his brother, the parson, is allowed to stand
before him. As for his huntsman, I am delighted with
him, considering him to be everything that a huntsman
should be ; and when I tell you that 1000 guineas were
offered, the other day, for three of the horses which he
rides with the hounds, I will leave you to guess how he
is mounted. His first whipper-in, also (Harry Jackson),
is a very clever fellow, and by the appearance of the
pack, by the cover side, there must be a good man in
the kennel.

" There are several very superior horsemen, as well as
sportsmen, members of this hunt — both heavy and light
weights. Among the former, indeed, there is one— namely,
Mr. Boltaby — who treads hard on the heels of the extra-
ordinary performer I spoke of with the Warwickshire
hounds, inasmuch as he is always in a good place in a
run, although not nearly so well mounted as the hero of
the ' Warwickshire lads.' Among the latter is what may
be called a ram avis in the land. He is a tanner of hides
by trade, and resides in the town of Nuneaton ; and
neither himself nor his mare — also a rara avis of her kind
— have pretensions nearly equal to their merits. In the
first place, he is a very small person ; and, in the next,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 259

his mare is of equally diminutive size ; nevertheless, there
not only is not a man in the Atherstone Hunt that can
beat the tanner on his good little mare, but, strange to
say, he has gone out two or three times with the Quorn
hounds, in their strongest country, and been amongst the
foremost men in the field. In fact, so annoyed was one
celebrated character in that hunt, at the presence of the
tanner and his mare, following him as though they had
been his shadow, and over every description of fence,
that he was at length heard to exclaim, ' Xow I'll break

his d d neck.' But the neck of the tanner was

spared, perhaps, by a fortunate occurrence. The cele-
brated character I allude to, mounted, perhaps, on one
of the best horses in Leicestershire, rode at some timber,
a foot or more higher than the little mare's back ; but,
breaking the topmost rail, the tanner and his mare
followed him. But his history does not rest here. Being
invariably clad in a light green jacket, he has obtained
the sobriquet of the Paroqueet, to which his flying
propensities — for no man goes faster after hounds, or
gets over higher fences — have sufficiently established his
title. At all events, he is a gallant little fellow, and
his good little mare may well be said to be nearly worth
her weight in gold.

" To describe a run with hounds is so difficult a task —
at least, when justice is to be done to the subject — that I
am almost afraid to attempt it ; nevertheless, I cannot
resist giving you a short account of one we had last week,
attended with some peculiarly interesting circumstances.
In the first place, I must tell you, that the uniform
colour — if I may so express myself — of the Atherstone
Hunt is orange, whereas, you know, that the Quorn men
all ride in scarlet. Xext, it being known that a number
of the Quornites, as Dick Knight called them, had
signified their intention of being out with Lord Yemen's
hounds, on Tuesday last, at Bosworth, a report had gone
abroad, that, should a good fox be found, there would
be a sort of contest for the brush — more properly speak-
ing, for superiority of horsemanship and nerve — between
the men in orange and the men in red. This actually
took place ; but, my good fellow, Hargrave, how can I
find words that will convey to you even a faint descrip-
tion of the interesting scene ? An epicure cannot judge
of a dish of meat by the palate of another ; a musician

260 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

must hear the concert he presumes to criticise ; in fact,
we can do nothing of this sort by proxy. It is not that
the subject is poor, but that my language is incompetent.
However, let me try what I can do.

" The fixture was Bosworth — on the very ground ou
which Richard III. lost both his crown and his life ; and
the field was unusually large for this part of the world,
consisting of at least 150 horsemen, amongst whom were
about a score of the Quornites on their very best nags.
They were easily distinguished, first, by the colour of
their coat — for, until I saw them together, I was not
aware of the strong contrast between the orange and the
red ; and next by the superior form and condition of
their horses over the generality of those of our party.
Amongst them, I particularly noticed Sir Henry Peyton's
Watchmaker, a superb horse, the same that you see in
the ' Sporting Magazine,' where he is represented clearing
a stile and brook with Sir Henry, and setting the whole
field. Then there was Mr. Lindon on his famous horse
The Clipper, and the celebrated Tom Smith on Jack-o'-
Lantern, by Meteor, out of a sister to Tickletoby, said to
be the two best horses in Leicestershire. And amongst
them were Sir Stephen Glynne and Lord Foley, who are
domiciled at Mountsorrel, in the same house with Sir
Henry Peyton ; and I noticed George Germaine, Parson
Bennett, Forester, cum multis aliis unknown to you, but
all first-raters. Then there was John Raven, Meynell's
old huntsman, but now Lord Sef ton's, who came to witness
the events of this day. And this reminds me that Lord
Sefton himself was in the field with two of the finest
horses I ever saw in my life. He calls one Plato, and
the other Rowland, and they cost him no less than 1800
guineas. Then their condition was splendid. You are
aware that it, was in consequence of my conversation with
his groom, that I kept my horses last summer in the house,
and have determined upon never again turning them to

!As you may suppose, we made the best turn-out
in our power, on this day, from this side the coun-
try, and a most respectable appearance we cut. Sam
Lawley had a picked pack for the occasion, and was
mounted on his best horse, John -o'- Gaunt, one of the
three for which 1000 guineas were offered. We all,
indeed, skimmed the cream of our studs, myself upon

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 261

Topthorn, whose condition was much admired. But now
to business : —

" We found in the first cover we drew, and the fox
went boldly away at once ; and, by the quickness of Sain
Lawley and his whips, the hounds came out in a body.
' But they were pressed upon, and ridden over,' methinks
I hear you say. Not a bit of it. They had sportsmen
to deal with, who gave them fair play. But the esprit de
corps, you will assure me, or, in other words, jealous}-,
must have operated to their disadvantage. This I also
disclaim on the part of the whole field ; at least, I saw
nothing like it ; but every man's object was merely to
live with the hounds, which was as much indeed as they
could do, for the pace was desperately quick. And the
hounds got an advantage in the first five minutes, and a
great one it was. A brook — the very brook, I believe, in
which the mangled remains of Richard were thrown, and
which, even to this day, the country people believe to be
tinged with blood— and a small ozier-bed very soon pre-
sented themselves, and somewhat checked our career, as
the horses did not like them — perhaps they smelled the
blood, though I should rather say, the bog. However,
all in the same line with myself got well over, Peyton,
on Watchmaker, being the first. The pace now became
awful, as we had ground to make up, and those near the
hounds could, without any difficulty, be distinguished.
There were about an equal number of orange and red,
neither appearing to me to prevail. I am speaking of
the first twelve minutes. It was now that a trifling
superiority was exhibited amongst those who, with
myself, were on the left of the hounds. A large timber
fence presented itself, high and stiff, and on the other
side was a green lane, the sides of which were covered
with gorse, so as to render it impossible to see what kind
of ground the said gorse concealed. It was, however,
evident that it was of a very uneven description, together
with the certainty that, from what could be seen in the
middle of it, the entire lane was cut up by deep waggon
ruts, and, moreover, the drop into it was considerable.
Eleven of us, then in front, came up to this fence, but
not one of us liked it. The twelfth was Lord Foley, on
a thorough-bred horse, which had been one of the best
plate horses of his day, and, without pulling him out of
his stroke, at it he went ; and although he floundered

262 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

a little on landing, he kept his legs, and went on. Here1
the red had it, for Lord Foley got the lead, although
there were a few on the right who were nearly on as good
terms as his Lordship was. It was gallantly done, how-
ever, and due praise was given both to the rider and his
horse. We all got over this fence, but could not catch
Foley till we came to the first check. And how were
matters here ? Why, strange to say, there were seventeen
of one hunt, and fifteen of the other, well up, but the
majority were in orange. 'How is this?' inquired one,
who was becoming somewhat sanguine on the occasion.
' They knew of a better place than we did, over the brook
and across the ozier-bed,' replied one of the couleur de rose,
' but they ride devilish well.'

" The science of Sam Lawley, whose eye had been on
his hounds when they checked, soon put matters to rights,
and before many of the stragglers had come up, we were
all at work again. But to make short of my story, as far
as the run is concerned. Our fox led us over a beautiful
country ; and, within two fields of Aylestone gorse, on the
other side the road leading from Leicester to Lutterworth,
we ran into him in the middle of a large field — distance
about twelve miles as the crow flies. ' And who saw the
finish 1 ' I think I hear you eagerly exclaim. Not many,
for the pace had been severe from first to last ; and the
fox went so straight, that few chances were given to
those who looked out for a nick. But the colours of
the coats ! You will be equally curious on this point.
I will soon satisfy your curiosity. There were eleven
Quornites and eight Vernonites well with them at the
end, and about an equal number of each — say a dozen
or fifteen — in not a bad place. Fine horsemanship was
displayed on each side ; and it struck me that the
Quornites had the best of it towards the finish, by the
superiority of their horses, and the condition of them, for,
until the last three miles, the orange and red appeared
to me, and to others, to be, as nearly as we could guess,
equal.

" I only regret that you did not see the run, which was
a splendid one from first to last, and I strongly re-
commend you to the Atherstone country. And I also
recommend you to see another pack kept in this part of
the country, more for the sake of the honour of them,
than for their performances in the field. I allude to Mr.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 263

Adderley, who is one of the breed of English country
gentlemen of the old school — most polite, most unaffacted,
most modest, most humane, perhaps, of his order ; but
the most unlikely person to be at the head of a pack of
foxhounds that England or any other country can produce.
By-the-bye, I will tell you no bad anecdote respecting
him, which I had from his own lips. Being in want of a
huntsman, one of the most celebrated of the present day
happening at that time to be out of place, offered his
services, and was engaged. He arrived on a Saturday
night on his hack, with a small pair of saddle-bags under
him, leaving his luggage to follow him per coach. The
following morning he was desired to feed his hounds at
nine o'clock, as Mr. Adderley required that all his servants
should attend both morning and evening church. The
huntsman obeyed orders to the very letter, and behaved
remarkably well in church. At nine o'clock at night the
bell rang for family prayers, at which Mr. Shaw (for
such was his name) conducted himself with becoming
reverence. But when Monday morning arrived, where
was Mr. Shaw ? He was not to be found, having put
his saddle-bags under him, on his hack, and trotted
quietly off — leaving word that 'he thought he was
hired to hunt a pack of foxhounds, but finding that
his chief occupation was to pray, he begged to resign his
situation to one who was better qualified for the office
than himself.'

" I must now conclude. These long letters will make
you imagine, with Mr. Shaw, that my chief occupation is
not hunting, but writing ; I, therefore, bid you, for the
present, adieu.

" FRANCIS RABY."

CHAPTER XV

The death of Mr. Beaumont Raby, and the installation of the hero
into a regular sporting establishment, the details of which are
given at some length.

OX the day following the date of this epistle, our hero
received a letter from his father, informing him of the
dangerous situation in which his uncle's life was placed,

264 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

by an accident that occurred to him as he was stepping
into his carriage to go to the opera. The extent of it was
a mere simple fracture of the left leg, which, had it
happened to his brother, instead of himself, would have
shortly yielded to common medical treatment ; but it was
not so with the indolent and highly fed Mr. Beaumont
Eaby. Unpleasant symptoms appeared about the fifth
day ; and by the time his nephew arrived in London,
having been sent for by express, at the earnest desire
of the sufferer, he was considered to be beyond the
reach of all human aid. Moreover, he was himself
aware that his hour was near at hand ; but, having a
perfect command over his intellectual faculties, he thus
addressed his nephew, at the second interview between
them : —

" Now, my dear Frank, having recovered myself from
the emotion which your presence occasioned, ' Richard is
himself again.' Draw a chair towards my bed, and not
only hear, but mark what I am about to say. But why do
you weep, my dear boy ? If tears were becoming, they
should fall from me, inasmuch as I have reason to believe
I am about to quit a world with which I have no small
cause to be satisfied, and I should be a hypocrite to say
I shall not leave it with regret. But shall we receive
good, and shall we not receive evil ? Vain hope ! and
such I now find it. I have, however, one consolation in
this evil hour, and that is — in the station I now hold in
society being about to be filled by yourself. You will
succeed to all I possess, beyond a few legacies to friends,
and annuities for their lives to old and faithful servants ;
and I pray to God, that you may make a better use of the
means at your command than I myself have done. But
he who tastes nothing but the sweet poison of prosperity,
which hitherto has been my case "

Here the feelings of the sufferer overcame him, and,
concealing his brow with his hand, he remained silent for
a short time ; but having recovered his self-possession thus
continued to speak : —

" I am weak, my dear Frank, as you must perceive ; but
let us look on a brighter picture. In addition to what you
will receive from me, you may one day inherit the large
possessions of your father. Endeavour, then, to tread in
his steps, rather than in mine. The reigning error of my
life has been the mistaking the love for the practice of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 265

virtue, and being the friend of goodness, rather than a
good man. In your father, the union is accomplished ;
and whilst I have been amusing myself with a phantom of
happiness which has been always dancing before my eyes
• — turning them, alas ! from the light of Reason which
would have discovered the illusion, and shown me what,
perhaps, I never wished to see, my own real case — he has
possessed himself of the reality, by fulfilling every duty
incumbent upon an English gentleman, and, I may safely
add, the Christian. Compared with his then, mine has
been a solitary, a barren, and a cheerless existence, and
my name will be forgotten ere my remains are cold. As
the shadow waits on the substance, Frank, even so true
honour follows virtuous actions, and not merely the
profession of them."

The natural strength of Mr. Beaumont Raby's consti-
tution had, to a certain extent, rallied after passing a
tranquil night, in which sleep — that vis rnedicatrix nature
— had come to his relief ; and it was not until the eighth
day after this interesting conversation took place between
himself and his nephew, that death came to his relief — on
the very day, indeed, on which he had arrived at his fifty-
third year ! On his will being opened, matters stood
thus : — He bequeathed £1000 to Mr. Egerton, "as a mark
of gratitude for his having instilled those notions of pro-
priety into his nephew that would not fail to benefit
him through life ; " £100 to one of his oldes friends and
the same to his brother, to purchase mourning rings ;
annuities of fifty pounds to three of his own servants,
" who had served him faithfully in their respective
situations ; " and the rest of his fortune, without any
stipulation whatever, "to his dearly beloved nephew,
Francis Raby, trusting that he would make a better use
of it than he himself had done. It consisted of £137,000,
in the three per cent, consols, together with a small estate
in Hertfordshire, of about 150 acres, on which it had
been his intention to have built a villa for his summer
residence, but the natural indolence of his character,
together with his love of Brighton at that period of the
year, had prevented his putting it into effect. And
there was a short codicil to the will, bequeathing fifty
pounds a year to the poor of the parish of Amstead, for
ever. His remains were conveyed to the family vault at
Amstead ; and in the course of a few months, a plain but

266 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

neat monument was erected to his memory, having the
following simple inscription, from the pen of his afflicted
brother : —

SacreD to tbe dBemorg

OF

BEAUMONT RABY, ESQUIRE,

YOUNGEST SON OF ANDREW AND THE HONOURABLE MARTHA

ALICIA RABY, OP AMSTEAD ABBEY, IN THE COUNTY OF

LINCOLN ; WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE ON THE THIRD OF FEBRUARY,

1803, IN THE FIFTY-THIRD YEAR, OF HIS AGE.

ALL WHO KNEW HIM CAN ATTEST THAT HE WAS A MAN OF A

SINGULARLY MILD AND AMIABLE DISPOSITION — EVERY THOUGHT

AND ACT OF HIS LIFE PROCEEDING FROM THE OVERFLOWING

OF A WARM AND TENDER HEART. POSSESSING SOUND

SENSE AND PRUDENCE, JOINED WITH MUCH URBANITY

OF MANNERS, AS WELL AS STRICT INTEGRITY OF

CONDUCT, HE MIGHT HAVE QUALIFIED HIMSELF

FOR THE HIGHEST OFFICES OF SOCIETY :

BUT HIS ATTACHMENT TO LITERARY PURSUITS, COUPLED WITH A
DESIRE FOR RETIREMENT AND EASE, WHICH HE WANTED
RESOLUTION TO COMBAT, CONFINED HIM TO THE
STATION HE HELD — THAT OF AN ACCOM-
PLISHED GENTLEMAN.

THIS SIMPLE MONUMENT, ACCORDING WITH THE UNPRETENDING

CHARACTER OF THE DECEASED, IS HERE PLACED BY HIS

AFFECTION ATE BROTHER, ANDREW RABY, AS THE LAST

TRIBUTE OF HIS REGARD AND LOVE FOR ONE TO

WHOM HE WAS MOST CLOSELY UNITED, NOT ONLY

BY BLOOD, BUT BY AFFECTION.

As may be supposed, the situation and views of our
young sportsman were materially changed by this accession
of wealth — for such it may be called, when devoted to the
purposes of merely one individual. The following three
years, then, find him, first, the tenant of a large mansion
and domain in one of the midland counties ; secondly,
with an increased stud, and not only of hunters, but
coach-horses ; thirdly, a member of Bibury and Kingscote
Racing Clubs, and of the B.D.C., or Benson Driving
Club ; fourthly, with a house and fourteen-stalled stable
at Melton Mowbray ; and, fifthly, a member of the House
of Commons. Let us look, then, at his proceedings in
these several stations, of no small importance in our
eyes.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 267

As may be imagined, the mansion he had fixed upon
was selected with an eye to the amusements to which he
was devoted, and to as much enjoyment of them as could
be procured for a certain given sum. Hunting is here
not taken into the account, our hero having satisfied
himself that there is only one part of England in which
the chase could be enjoyed to perfection, and in that he
did not wish to reside all the year, for more reasons than
one. A great object with him was good roads, which
Leicestershire at this period was deficient in. Another,
was good partridge and pheasant-shooting, to neither of
which were the rich pastures of the queen of all hunting
countries accounted favourable, from the general absence
of corn-fields. Our young sportsman then set himself down
with a clear £4700 a year at his command, in a fine old
mansion, whose grounds opened into the great Holyhead
road, which, even at that period, was one of the best in
England, and, from the numerous coaches running upon
it, the most interesting and amusing to a person who, like
our hero, is fond of the humours and proceedings of what
is called, " THE ROAD ; " in fact, nothing could be more to
his mind, during the lifetime of his father, than the place
we have now spoken of. As has already been stated, the
gates of the park opened on an excellent road ; the manor
sufficiently abounded with game. Foxhounds and harriers
were kept in the neighbourhood. There was good coursing-
ground in the open fields, belonging to the proprietor of
the estate ; and a river ran through the domain, affording
good trolling for pike, at which Frank Raby had become
an adept by the instructions of Jack Perren, who, by the
permission of Mr. Raby, was now become his keeper. But
the ayremens of Farndon Hall are not yet all told. One
of the best female cooks that London could furnish was
put into his kitchen, and a good stock of the choicest
wines into his cellars. That he had a choice set of
customers for the produce of each of these essentials to
true epicurean enjoyment, it is scarcely necessary to make
apparent.

It having been on the first of May following the decease
of his uncle, that our hero took possession of Farndon Hall,
some account of his proceedings there may be looked for.
We will begin with him in his stable-yard, our fancy
directing us thither, in accordance with our own taste.
Of his hunters, not much can be said. Unprovided with

accommodations for summering them agreeably to the plan
he had adopted in the preceding spring, and which he
found to answer so well, they were in their old quarters at
Amstead, under the care of his head groom, who had
nearly convinced the Scotch steward that the expenses of
the preceding summer had not been thrown away upon
them, by the superior condition of the stud, and the way
in which they had stood their work, without disease of
any kind having attacked them. Let us, then, take a peep
into the coach-stables.

The space of a few months, even with the aid of both
judgment and experience, is far too little for the selection
of such a stable of coach -horses as Frank Raby had got
together, consisting of seven greys — for, like Camillus x of
old, that was his favourite colour — one black, and two
chestnut piebalds, which gave him two teams, and two
horses to spare, called, on the road, "rest horses."
Indeed, no man can depend on having one team out of
four, or two out of eight horses ; and on these matters our
hero had been well tutored by Sir John Inkleton. Sir
John, indeed, had in part assisted him in the purchase of
those nags, as had also a celebrated London dragsman, who
selected some of them out of his employer's yard, money
hiving tempted him to part with them. And, in truth,
there is no much better method for gentlemen to adopt,
in purchasing horses for their own driving, than to select
them from regular road work, inasmuch as, in the first
place, their character can be tried for goodness ; and in
the next, they are thoroughly broken-in to face all kinds
of objects they may meet — the want of which confidence,
in pleasure horses, is the cause of half the accidents which
occur. This being a period when horse-flesh was at a
premium, the above ten horses were considered not badly
bought at £900, especially so as there were three fancy-
coloured ones in the lot ; but had not four of them been,
to a slight degree, collar-marked, a larger sum would have
been required. Frank Raby, however, had remembered
the good advice his friend Sir John had given him, in
very young days ; and in this, as well as in most of the
future transactions of life, he looked to the main chance,

1 History informs us, that Camillus gave great offence to the
Romans, by being carried through Rome in his chariot, drawn by
four grey horses, no general, either before or since, having done the
same ; grey horses were then held sacred.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 269

and endeavoured to get what is called — " the penny's-
worth for his penny." It would be well if all persons,
situated as he was situated — with the means of procuring
all reasonable pleasures — would observe the like rule.

But to return to the coach-stables (as those in which
coach-horses are kept are called, to distinguish them from
those used by hunters, the establishments being invariably
kept apart in all well-conducted arrangements) : I can do
nothing in illustration of them, if I may be allowed so
to express myself, without the assistance of some friends.
We will, therefore, announce to our readers the arrival of
the following conspicuous characters, on a week's visit
to our hero, who had made the most ample preparation
for their reception ; viz., Lord Edmonston ; Sir John
Inkleton ; Mr. Somerby ; Mr. Goodall ; Mr. Houghton ;
friend Hargrave ; and Jack Webber ; and no sooner had
they all assembled, and partaken of some refreshment after
their journey, than they walked into the stable-yard,
where the following conversation ensued : —

Sir John. " Ah ! there is your drag, and it appears to
be quite the thing, or ' all-right,' as we say on the road. I
told you Wright and Powell would turn you out a good
one. What do you think of it, Jack, eh ? "

Now, before we give the answer, we must have a word
or two about " Jack." In consequence of his father having
grumbled rather more than he thought was necessary,
at having three times paid his debts — amounting, in
all, to upwards of £72,000 — the said Mr. John Webber
quitted the paternal roof, and went regularly to work on
the Brighton road for upwards of two years. A better
coachman, perhaps, seldom mounted a coach-box ; a more
popular character, with all descriptions of persons, never ;
but he quitted it at the earnest request of his family, and
was restored to society with no further blemish on his
character than having performed the office of a menial
to those vastly below him in the world. But Jack had
always this answer in his mouth, to anyone who reminded
him of this : —

"Honour and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part — there all tlie honour lies : " —

concluding, in the more humble language of prose, with
declaring that he believed he could say what no other road
coachman in England could say ; namely, that he not only

270 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

never upset his coach, but that he put every shilling he
received on the bill. We will now give his answer, apologiz-
ing for this interlude :

Jack Webber. " I see very little to find fault with. The
box appears to sail well over your wheelers, so as to put
you near enough to your leaders to have them well in
your hand, and to give them a taste of the whip when
they want it ; and the axletrees and boxes seem strong
and good. Perhaps two inches less length of perch would
have made her follow better, but I daresay you have
plenty of strength in your harness, and she is safer on her
legs as she is. The foot-board is capital ; there is nothing
like a roomy foot-board, not slanting too much, to give a
man a good firm seat on his box, and full command of his
team. It is disgusting to see a man sitting on a coach-
box with his knees bent as if he were sitting on a low
stool."

Sir John. " I quite agree with you, Jack. The drag
looks like business, and, if I mistake not, belongs to a
very business-like fellow, for I think that our friend
Raby will make a right good coachman in time."

Jack Webber. " How can he fail in being so, when one
Sir John Inkleton was his tutor ? "

Sir John. " Thanks for the compliment, Jack ; now let
us look at the horses." On entering the stable in which
the ten horses before mentioned stood, all as clean as they
could be made by the aid of four stout helpers, at the
expense of at least five shillings'- worth of soap, " Upon
my word, Frank," continued Sir John, "you have made
the best use of your time. Business again, — eh, Jack ? "

Jack Webber. " Good sort of stock, upon my word ;
plenty of strength on short legs. Ah, here's an old friend
of mine. I drove that black piebald for three months as
leader in my coach, and a capital leader he is."

Frank Raby. " Then why was he sold 1 "

Jack Webber. " For two reasons. First, he fetched a
good price from a young carpet - manufacturer in the
Borough, who went clown one day with me, and fell in
love with him ; secondly, he was a bad starter at one end
of his ground. I would never keep a bad starter, if I
horsed a coach. They are generally the best of cattle
when once off, but they alarm passengers, and get the
coach a bad name. That horse twice fell back with me,
and once broke the main bar."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 271

Frank Ruby. "And what did he do with the carpet-
manufacturer ] "

Jack Webber. " Frightened him out of his wits the first
time he put him to his drag."

Frank Raby. "But did he not know he was a bad
starter ? "

Jack Webber. " Oh no ; he only saw him at the down
change, where he always went oil quietly."

Hargrave. "And how happened it that he would not
start well at the up change ? "

Jack Webber. " We had a cruel scoundrel of a horse-
keeper there, who used to beat him with a broomstick,
because he was rather ticklish to dress. Horses have
better memories than we give them credit for."

Hargrave. " But why did he frighten the carpet-manu-
facturer, whose servants, perhaps, never beat him ? "

Jack Webber. " Why, they put him down to the bottom
of the bit, whereas I always drove him to the cheek. And
how has he been starting with you, Frank ? "

Frank Raby. " Rather queerly, the first time, because he
did not like his side ; but since I have changed it, nothing
can be better. No one who knew anything about putting
horses into harness would have put such a mouth as his
anywhere but to the cheek. I would not take 100 guineas
for him."

Sir John. " I remember just such an instance as that
you have been relating of this horse, in a grey mare that
went at wheel in the Worcester mail. At Bengeworth,
she was very difficult to put to the coach at all ; but at
Worcester she would almost put herself to, and stand for
half an hour. She had some reason, no doubt, for her
dislike to Bengeworth."

Frank Raby. " How did they manage her at the down
change ? "

Sir John. " When the other three horses were put to,
the coachman and guard up, and the passengers all seated,
she was brought quickly out of the yard, with scarcely
time to look about her ; the leading-rein being passed
through her turrets, and chucked to the coachman's hand,
her traces were put over the roller-bolts, by two nimble
horse-keepers, and away she started, with a rush."

Jack Webber. "What! not poled up?"

Sir John. " Very seldom ; the man who brought her up
to her place would generally succeed in putting the pole-

272 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

chain through, the ring of her harness, and now and then
hooking it ; but nine times in ten it was not hooked until
she had gone a mile or so, when, by easing the pace, the
guard was enabled to do it."

Frank Raby. "And did she never get back on the
splinter-bar, and kick ? '•

Sir John. " Oh no ; she was not one of that sort. All
she wanted was to get away with the coach from the scene
of her dislike, and the faster the better, for she was a
capital bit of stuff. Then again she was in the hands of
a first-rate coachman. In the hands of a spoon, she would
have been dangerous."

Frank Raby. " Is he still at work ; I should like to see
him, if he is."

Sir John. " He is not ; he is dying from the effects of
hot rum-and-water."

Jack Webber. " More's the pity ; but why was not that
mare put before the bars, instead of at wheel ? "

Sir John. " She would not have that place, or it would
have been the fittest for her, no doubt. I thought she did
the mail harm with the public, and I told the proprietors
I thought so ; but she was too good to be drafted."

Jack Webber. " Well, Eaby, as far as I can see of them,
I think you have made no bad selection ; but further
cannot be said till we see them in harness, which I suppose
we shall to-morrow. In the meantime let us look at your
harness-room."

Sir John. " Well done, Frank ; all appears to be right
here. Two sets of road - harness for the drag ; one for
your chariot (for church and dinner- work, I presume) ;
and one set for the break. Whose work is it, for it
appears first-rate ? "

Frank Raby. " One set of road-harness and the pair-
horse are from Whippy ; the other set of the former from
Laurie — the two best harness-makers in London, I believe
— and that for the break was made in the village. I like
to lay out money near at home, when I can ; but there is
no harness fit to be looked at, of country' make."

Jack Webber. " You are quite right, Raby, and you have
gone to a good market. And your whips 1 "

Frank Raby. " From Crowther, of course. They cost a
guinea each ; devilish dear, to be sure ; but they are so
nicely turned out. They are the only crops I could ever
find to stand wet weather without losing shape ; and when

273

the thong suits them, there is nothing like them for
punishing when it is wanted."

Jack Webber. " I like your pads much. They are well
stuffed, so as to cause no pressure on the back-bone, which
sets a horse wrong."

Sir John. " Exactly so ; there is a strong sympathetic
feeling between the back-bone and the withers, and when
a horse is pinched by his pad, his patience is often ex-
hausted, and he makes an attempt to relieve himself.
Being galled in the shoulder is a trifle to a pinch on the
back or withers ; and no doubt many a cockney's gig has
been kicked to pieces from this cause, of which they have
not been in the least conscious. I once had a proof of it.
I drove a horse fourteen miles in a gig ; and just as he
was entering on the fifteenth — without the least provoca-
tion that I could discern — without a whip, rein, or even a
fly touching him, he began to mill, and — to use a coaching
phrase — a sack was wanted to bring home the gig. I
luckily escaped, but my servant was a good deal hurt ;
and I found out that the cause of the disaster was the pad
pressing on the back-bone, which was becoming very much
inflamed."

Frank Raby. " Well, I think we have seen all we can
see for the present ; and as the dressing-bell has rung, we
had better walk towards the house. I never keep dinner
waiting if I can avoid it, for it is unfair towards the cook ;
let us then "

Jack Webber. " One moment longer ! Just let me look
into your tool-box — a most necessary thing to keep the
drag moving. I should have been hung up many times
on those Brighton South Downs, but for mine. Let me
see. — Here is the screw-wrench ; wheel and spring clips ;
two spring shackels, with bolts and nuts ; two chains — one
for a trace, when wanting, and the other shorter, with a ring
at one end, and a hook at the other, in case of a tug giving
way ; but where is the little strap, with, two buckles ? "

Frank Raby. " The little strap with two buckles ; I
know not what you mean?"

Jack Webber. "Then you know not a very useful
appendage to the tool-box, inasmuch as, should any part
of the reins, or indeed most parts of the harness, give way,
it comes into use in a moment. I always carried two of
them in my pocket, one somewhat broader and stronger
than the other."

18

274 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Frank Raby. " Just describe this strap."

Sir John. " 7 can do that for you, as I am never without
one of them in the pocket of my great-coat. It need not
be more than six inches long, but must have a strong
buckle at each end. Anything, then, in the shape of a
strap being broken, can be instantly made serviceable by
punching two holes, if none are already within reach, to
receive the tongues of the buckles."

Somerby. " But, Eaby, where are the hunters ? "

Frank Raby. " They are at Amstead, in paddocks,
which I had made for them last year ; but against next
spring I hope to have the means of summering them here,
under my own eye."

Ifargrave. " My horses are treated after your plan this
summer, and I expect the greatest benefit from it, next
season."

Frank Raby. " Depend upon it you will not be disap-
pointed. I had a remarkable proof of the superiority of
condition attained by it, in the course of a run in the last
season. We came to a check at the end of a sharp burst,
when some one observed — ' "What a steam there was from
the horses ! ' ' There is no steam from mine,' said I ;
neither was there ; in fact he was beginning to get dry on
his neck."

Hargrave. "It must be a great advantage to a hunter
not to sweat much — or, at all events, to become soon cool ;
as exhaustion must be proportionally diminished."

At six o'clock precisely — there were no eight o'clock
dinners at this period, in the summer months, in the
country — our party sat down to just such a dinner as we
may imagine our young sportsman to have given them —
not of the first quality, for the chef de cuisine was wanting,
but such as no English gentleman could find fault with.
Neither were the wines in the highest order for drinking,
although all were excellent of their sort, time not having
been allowed for their recovering themselves, after their
transport from London and Dublin — the claret having
been imported from the latter city. Everything, however,
in the shape of liquids, that could be improved by it, was
iced, even to the home-brewed small beer — no very con-
temptible beverage to travellers who had been exposed to
a midsummer sun.

It was the fashion in those days to drink toasts in all
private parties, among sportsmen especially ; and the third

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 275

given this evening, — that is to say, the one following the
King, and fox-hunting, was — " THE ROAD ! " As may be
supposed, it gave rise to some conversation on the subject,
of which the following is the substance : —

Sir John. " Well, Frank, I must say that, from what I
have to-day seen of your coaching establishment, I am
inclined to think you will make a very good start on the
road — that is to say, if the cattle are to your liking."

Lord Edmonston. " I think so, too ; but you will pay
dear for your whistle. I understand the expenses of a
complete driving establishment, to the same extent as
yours, are calculated at £1200 a year, at least."

Sir John. " I can confirm that by my own experience.
Mine costs me a little more than that sum, including what
I give away annually to road coachmen and guards."

Lord Edmonston. " You are the Maecenas of guards and
coachmen, I understand, Inkleton. At all events, your
name is known to all that I have ever come into contact
with, and on all roads."

Sir John. " I do what I can for them ; I think that,
when they conduct themselves properly, they are a very
deserving set of men, and are not so well remunerated as
they ought to be, considering the wear and tear of life
inseparable from their calling, and the risks they incur of
accidents. I do not grudge what they get from me,
because I have seen much improvement amongst them,
on my road, from the notice I have taken of them. They
are aware that good conduct is their only passport to my
favour."

Lord Edmonston. " And is it true, Inkleton, that the
expenses of a stud of twelve hunters and two hacks, at
Melton, amount to £1200 per annum ?"

Sir John. " As nearly so as possible — I mean the stud
only ; that sum extends not beyond the stable-yard ; it
has nothing to do with the house expenses of their owner."

Goodall. " Why, Frank, £2500 a year for horses only !
It will make a big hole in the £5000 a year, eh 1 We
shall be having another journey together into the city, if
the Squire of Amstead lives to be as old as my father
is, eh?"

Frank Ruby. " Thanks for the hint, Goodall, although
it smells a little of the shop. But you forget that all the
money my poor uncle left me is at my disposal, so that if,
during my father's life — which I hope may be a long one

276 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

— I should overshoot the mark, I must trespass a little
on the principal. And that won't matter much, for I
daresay I shall never marry. Besides, I have given
orders for the sale of that little estate in Hertfordshire,
which is only fit for a cockney ; and I daresay that, from
its pretty situation, and by the help of one of Robins's best
puffs, it will fetch £10,000. That would give me another
£1000 a year, as I shall sink the principal in an annuity
for my life. I don't mean to run in debt ; and Inkleton
says, if I do as he does — keep an account of my expenses,
and pay ready money for most of the articles consumed,
I shall never hurt myself. And you know I have no taste
for gambling."

Lord Edmonston. " Not for a little racing, Frank ? "

Frank Raby. " Why, I intend having a shy at that, as
we used to say at Eton ; but, having been once caught, I
shall be cautious."

Hargrave. " Better stick to hounds and the coach-box.

There are such a number of d d rogues on the Turf, that

I think you will do no good on that ground. Remember
what Fairfax told you at Christchurch. There are not
many better judges, I believe, than his father is, but he
is minus £100,000 by the Turf, which is awful to think
of, especially when one considers into what worthless
hands a great portion of it is gone."

Frank Raby. "The legs!"

Hargrave. " Yes ; what chance would you or any other
gentleman have in betting with men who pay annually
large sums to trainers for information as to trials, &c. ?
A dead loss, depend on it, Frank."

Jack Webber. " I think so, too. Stick to the box and
the pig-skin, Frank, and don't put it in the power of
those fellows to ruin you first, and laugh at you afterwards,
as they have done by poor Raymond. I understand he
has lost his last shilling, and is at this time in prison."

Frank Raby. " For a heavy sum ? "

Jack Webber. " I know not for what amount, but "

Sir John. " Well, let us drop this subject, and have a
little coaching talk. Give us your opinion, Jack, of what
a coach-horse should be. You have not only a good eye
to shape and make, but your two years' constant work
must have given you an advantage over us amateurs —
even over one of such long standing as mine, for I have
been at it, now, better than eight years."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 277

Jack Webber. " The first requisite in a coach-horse is
action. The second, substance, because horses draw by
their weight and not by the mere force of their muscles,
but action is necessary to perpetuate this force. Thirdly,
good legs and feet, with power and breeding equal to the
nature and length of the ground or stage on which they
are to work. Lastly, wind. Without good wind all the
other properties are of no avail in a coach-horse required
to go fast ; for, let its strength be what it may, it will not
avail much after the first five miles, if he have not good
wind. A good winded coach-horse will always keep up
his condition, because he is never distressed on any
reasonable length of ground. Sound legs and feet are
very necessary for wheel-horses, especially on hilly roads ;
but I have driven many a good and safe-footed bad-legged
leader, which has been a free worker, running well up to
his bit. I consider fifteen hands two inches to be the
best size for a horse for light coaches and quick work ;
but would prefer sixteen hands for heavy coaches and
slow work."

Frank Raby. " You have said nothing of the mouth."

Jack Webber. " Oh, we must take mouths as we find
them, in regular work. We like what we call 'cheek
horses,' when we can get them, but we manoeuvre them in
the best way we can, when we find them queer ; and with
the help of check-reins, side-reins, nose martingales,
curb-chain in the mouth, altering the coupling- reins,
and such like, we generally bring them to our hands.
But in regular work, mouth in a coach-horse is of not so
much consequence, because he is always running home,
and knows his ground. For gentleman's work mouth is
everything, on account of the turning and twisting to
which they are subject. Gentleman's horses should play
with their bits, and not be afraid of them ; and each side
of their mouths should be equal. When this is the case,
the higher their courage the safer they are to drive,
because, when running fearlessly up to their bits, they
feel every motion of their coachman's hand. Of all teams,
the most difficult to drive is that in which there are two
good and sufficientlv free workers, one slug, and a raking
(fretful) leader."

Sir John. u You are right, Jack ; it is a regular teazer.
Let us have your science on that point."

Jack Webber. "As regards the 'raker,' you shall — the

278 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

science that was given to me by the best and quickest man
on his box that I have ever yet seen. ' Something must
be done,' said he, ' to keep him from killing himself. Try
a check-rein to his partner ; if that won't check him, it
will bring his partner up to him, and that is something
gained. If you attempt to pull him back by his bit, do
it gently ; if violently, you pull him back on his bar,
which only makes him worse. The best way is, when
there is no check-rein used, to bring him back by his
harness ; that is, to keep the wheel-horses back, so that he
may feel the collar and his bit at the same time, which will
tend to soothe his temper.' Then he taught me another
move, which I have ever since practised. ' When a whole
team are overdoing it,' said he, ' don't draw all your reins
through your fingers at the same moment. By doing so,
your horses' mouths (i.e. the proper feeling of them,
which you may have taken some trouble to acquire) will
very often be lost. The following is a better plan : —
Open the fingers of your right hand, and put the reins
into them, and with a good gripe, about two inches in
front of your left hand, and then catch them again with
your left hand, by passing it in front of your right. You
then have their mouths just as they were, with only a
stronger pull upon them.' He also gave me the following
hints, which I never lost sight of : — ' The powers of a
horse in fast work, and with a heavy load,' said he, ' can
be measured to a mile. He may be very good for seven
or eight miles, but bad for ten or twelve. The priming,
indeed, is soon taken out of most of them, with a heavy
load, and they must be looked to. Wheelers have the
hardest place, everything considered, as they are at work
up hill and down ; nevertheless, they must chiefly regulate
the speed, by keeping them up to the leaders, instead of
forcing the leaders to get away from them ; in fact, if
favour be shown, it should be to the leaders. You may
drag a tired wheeler home, and he can shift a little in his
work ; but if a leader cuts it, you are planted — add to
which, the wheel-horses are generally the strongest of the
team. Always put your freest leader on the near side, as
you will have him better in hand than if he were on the
other. If a leader is weak, and cannot take his bar, tie
up the wheeler that follows him, and it will place him
by the side of his partner. Leaders should be fast trotters ;
when cantering or galloping, the bars are never at rest,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 279

consequently much of the draught is lost in the angles
they describe.'"

Frank Baby. " Do you like throat-latching coach-
horses ? "

Jack Webber. " Not always. I think wheelers are
better with more liberty than they have when throat-
latched, and many horses will pull and fret in the throat-
latch, but go quietly out of it ; they do not like the con-
finement of it. Dealing with horses' mouths, in harness,
to make them work pleasantly and equably, is no easy
task. Some will not face a curb ; on others it appears to
make very little impression. It is difficult to handle a
tender-mouthed leader. His coupling-rein must be at
the cheek, or "

Frank Raby. "Why not drive him in a snaffle, at
once 1 "

Jack Webber. " A snaffle is not safe : in case of a bolt,
or a drop, you cannot be sure of catching a horse up
quickly, at that distance from the hand. He should have
good liberty in his bearing-rein, and his curb-chain should
be slack. But, of all mouths, a dead mouth is the worst.
In this case, put the bearing-rein to the top of the bit (not
the cheek), and the coupling- rein to the lowest loop in the
bit, which creates a counter-action ; and not only makes
the bit of more service, but keeps the mouth in play.
This appears a severe remedy, but such is the danger
attending dead-mouthed horses, that we must not be too
scrupulous on that head."

Frank Raby. " One of my wheel-horses is playful, and
has twice kicked over his trace. Should I work him in
a kicking trace 1 "

Jack Webber. " No, it is not necessary ; what is called
a hip-strap is sufficient, by which the trace is lifted up as
the horse lifts himself ; thus he cannot jump over it.
It is not an ornament to your harness, having rather a
slow appearance ; but it looks better than a kicking-trace,
and, unless with a really vicious horse, answers all ends."

" Sir John. " Were you ever hung up, Jack, on the
Brighton ground, for I know you loaded well, and there
are some sharp hills on it ? "

Lord Edmonston. " Hung up I What are you talking
about 1 I think if Jack had been hung up for a very few
seconds, we should not have had him here, for his weight
would soon have "

280 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Jack Webber. "Choked him in his collar, you were
going to say. Being hung up, in coaching phraseology,
means being brought to a standstill, from one cause or
another. I have never been quite fast ; but having had
my share of high-blowers and soft-hearted ones, I have
now and then found it difficult to keep my time. With
horses of this description, I have always found it answer
to keep them from their collar, and let them only carry
their harness, for a few hundred yards, when they recover
themselves. A little watching and nursing was necessary
at all times on our road, as we were not capitally horsed."

Goodall. " How very fat some of the horses are which
run out of London."

Jack Webber. " So much the better ; good flesh is not
an obstacle to going the pace ; and no horses on the road
look so well as what are called the London horses ; their
stables are warm ; they have the best of hay and corn,
and are under the eye of a sharp-eyed foreman, who knows
his business well."

Frank Raby. " I suppose, Jack, you are all for the
long wheel- reins ?"

Jack Webber. " No one, south of Trent, is now seen
driving with any other. They are much the safest and
most business-like : the mouths of wheel-horses cannot be
felt as they should be felt, with the short wheel-rein."

Hargrave. " Do you think it is injurious to a hunter to
drive him occasionally in light harness ? "

Jack Webber. "By no means, provided his legs and
feet are good ; much better do that than send him to grass,
to become full of bad flesh."

Somerby. " I am no coachman, but I often go from
Melton to London on the box of the mail, and one thing
puzzles me. I often see the traces of awheel-horse appear
slack, and still the coachman is satisfied with the working
of the horse. How is that, Mr. Webber ? "

Jack Webber. " I will explain it in two words. If a trace
be twisted, it will never appear to be ' taut,' as the sailors
say ; but a coachman knows when a horse is at work, by
a certain tension of his frame."

Hargrave. "Will you tell me the best way to put
horses into harness the first time?"

Jack Webber. " You mean double harness."

Hargrave. " I do."

Jack Webber. " Then I will give you the directions

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 281

which were given to me by one of the best judges of every-
thing that belongs to the amateur coach-box, at this time
in England. It is best to put a young- horse in, the first
time, with only one other, which should be steady, good-
collared, and quick. A great deal of room should be given
him in his head, and he should be driven at the cheek of
an easy bit, with his pole-piece rather slack. He should be
started very quietly, making the old horse take collar
first ; and the first start should be in a wide space of
ground, so that he may be allowed to go any way he
pleases, without being checked. If he is alarmed, and
inclined to bounce or bolt, he should not be held hard,
and on no account stopped ; for, if he is, he may not like
to start again — particularly if high-mettled. The old
horse will hold him, so as to prevent his running far. If
a young horse is shy of his collar — as most are — he should
not be pressed at first, as he may take a dislike to it, and
become a jibber. If not forced, they will generally take
to it of their own accord. When a young coach-horse is
stopped, it should be done very gradually — allowing at
least ten yards to do it in ; for if it is attempted to stop
him short, he will resist, and then he is drawing by his
head. For the same reason, coach-horses should not be
held too hard when descending hills, which is a fault many
coachmen have. They forget the great additional weight
they are throwing upon them, as they are then drawing
by their heads. When a young horse is first put to a
coach, he should be very carefully turned to the pole, so
as to prevent its touching his hind quarter, which might
cause him to kick. When he has been driven long enough
to make him steady, he should be taken up in his bearing-
rein, and put down lower on his bit, and driven in a wide
circle, or figure of eight — keeping the inner horse well up
to his collar and bit. In his breaking he should be fre-
quently stopped, and not held after he is pulled up, as, if
he is high-mettled, it will make him restless, and, if dull,
he will not require it. Great care should be taken, at
starting, to make the old horse begin first, if the young
one be inclined to be hot, as it will prevent him from
plunging. If he is dull, and not ready to start when the
word of command is given, he should feel the whip till he
answers it. If inclined to kick, he should be taken up
very short in his pole-piece, and his bearing- rein tightened;
a stroke of the whip over the ears is also useful — a kind

282 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

of punishment that, in my opinion, should never be in-
flicted but for vice. It is a brutal practice, and one which I
never had recourse to myself, except in the case of a kicker.
Young horses should have their heads a good deal at liberty.
Throat-latching a young horse, either wheeler or leader,
shows great want of judgment. Some will go more quietly
as leaders than at wheel, the reason for which I conceive to
be, their not liking to find themselves confined by the pole-
piece. All young horses should have their sides frequently
changed."

Haryrave. " Thank you kindly, Jack, for your good
and practical advice. I will only trouble you to decide
a dispute lately in my presence, as to what description of
road is easier of draught ? "

Jack Webber. " I can settle that point for you on the
authority of a very scientific man, and you will be sur-
prised at the result. The draught of a horse in harness is
thus calculated. On good pavement — 33 Ib. ; on broken
stone surface — 65 Ib. ; on broken stone, hard bound —
45 Ib. ; on loose gravel — 147 Ib. ! This accounts for the
London mail, and also that which runs to Manchester
from Chester, having only three horses for the first twenty
or thirty miles, the road being paved. As coachmen say,
when describing the vis vivida of the mechanic, a coach
running over pavement is always alive. In fact, she
jumps from stone to stone, whereby her motion is
accelerated."

Lord Edmonston. " As for coaching, as you gentlemen
of the whip express yourselves, I know nothing of it
practically, and we should not attempt what we do not
understand. We have a good hint on this subject in the
fable of Icarus, and Persius tells us that, if a ploughman
were to take the helm of a ship, the gods would leave him
to his fate. I repeat, then, that I know nothing of ' coach-
ing,' but I see no reason why English gentlemen, who can
afford to do it, may not indulge themselves in driving their
own coaches."

Goodall. " It is an old fashion — Lateranus, the Roman
consul, drove his own chariot."

Lord Edmonston. " Yes, but only by night, until the
year of his office was out."

Goodall. " In Greece it was the amusement of kings :
Philip of Macedon had his chariot victories engraved on
his coins ; and Alcibiades had as many coach-horses in.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 283

training as Lord Grosvenor has racers ; and, be it remem-
bered that the fire of Pindar's muse, which dazzled all
Greece, shone forth in honour of coachmen, jockeys,
wrestlers, and prize-fighters."

Sir John. " I remember he tells us that Pelops broke
his arm hitting a near leader in his race with CEnomaus.
But, jesting apart, we have taken some of our notions on
the coach-box from the ' old ones,' as we called the ancients,
at Eton. For example, when I saw Angus the other day,
in the park, cutting a figure of eight with his four-in-hand,
I was convinced he was thinking of that beautiful passage
in the JEneid, where the sudden and artful turns, which
the goddess Juturna gave to her brother's chariot to avoid
the pursuit of ^Eneas, are compared to the flight of the
swallow, when seeking food for her young."

Goodall. " And you have them again, in the use of the
word 'artful.' When Panton was complimenting little
Joe, as he who drives the Exeter mail out of London is
called, on his being so good a coachman, for so small a
man, he answered him thus : — ' I'll tell you how it is, Sir
Harry ; what the big ones does by strength, I does by hartifice.'
Xow did not Nestor say the very same thing when he was
giving instructions to his son how to drive his chariot,
when contending for the prize at the funeral games of
Patroclus ; and where, although the worst horsed of the
lot, he was only beaten by a length ? For myself, although
no coachman beyond driving my father's curricle, I like
to listen to these discussions by men who understand the
thing well, and none others are worth listening to. If
Eschylus had not bled on the plains of Marathon, he
could not have celebrated on the stage the triumphs of his
country."

Sir John. "There is no small degree of mechanical
science, as well as knowledge of the laws of motion, to be
learnt in our line, eh, Jack 1 "

Jack Webber. " Indeed, Inkleton, there is ; and many a
life has been lost for the want of such knowledge — in
descending hills, and turning corners, especially. If they
were aware how motion is accelerated by the continuance
of the impetus in one case, and, in the other, that, — as by
the laws of nature, all bodies put in motion by one power
will proceed in a straight line, unless compelled to change
their course by some force impressed, — any sudden de-
viation from that course disturbs the centre of gravity in.

284 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

proportion to its suddenness, they would be more careful
than they are. I could have told you all about these
matters when I left Cambridge ; but when I used to see
a passenger on my coach amusing himself with watching
the shot from the fore- wheel, which, on certain parts of
our road, would rise to a considerable height, whilst I was
springing them, I would say to myself, ' that fellow little
thinks he is taking a lesson in conic-sections, and that
the parabola and their properties, which those bits of dirt
are describing, are the foundation of gunnery.' "

Frank Raby. " Why, Jack, you are becoming
scientific."

Jack Webber. " Not much of that ; but if some
cleverer fellow than myself were to put these few points
before road coachmen, in plain English, and in a small
tract, published at a low price, the travelling public would
be great gainers."

Houghton. " Whilst on the subject of science, I wish a
pathometer could be used, to enable us to judge of the
sufferings of horses in coaches that travel so fast, and in
which long stages are run with very indifferent horses."

Jack Webber. " I think the suffering of coach-horses is
becoming less every year. In the first place, they are of
a better description of horse than formerly, which very
much reduces it ; secondly, they are much higher fed ;
and, lastly, stages are much shortened. We have now but
few twelve-mile, and no fourteen-mile stages. I have
heard my father say that, when he went to Rugby school,
there was a team on the Coventry and London road, called
' The twenty milers.' They went from the ' Blue Boar,'
on Dunsmore Heath, to the ' Black Lion,' at Towcester —
just twenty miles."

Houghton. " The ' Blue Boar ' and the ' Black Lion ! '
who ever heard of either, except in the imagination of a
madman 1 "

Jack Webber. "We may as well ask, who ever saw a
white lion, or a unicorn, the latter one of the supporters
of our crown ? For my part I never could find out anyone
who could tell me what is meant by the word unicorn.
It cannot be an animal with one horn, because we read
in scripture of the horns of the unicorn.

Houghton. " I believe it to have been a kind of rhino-
ceros, whose history is not given us in scripture, but
mentioned by Moses, as having the strength of God ; or

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 285

an animal called the reem, which is spoken of by Job as
an unmanageable animal, of great strength, but one which
refused to bend its neck to the yoke."

Jack Webber. " No bad type of John Bull, we must
allow ; and may the gods preserve me from a unicorn
team, which I once drove for three months. But as we
call a one-eyed horse, ' single-peeper,' should not a one-
horned rhinoceros be called, monoceros?"

Frank Eaby. " You are becoming facetious, Jack ;
suppose you give us another song."

Jack Webber. "With all my heart; and as you have
been speaking of Moses, I will give you one about
Adam: —

PARODY ON THE 'OLD ENGLISHMAN.'

' Old Adam was the first-born man, as everybody knows, —
He never paid a tailor's bill, because he wore no clothes ;
Nor fine kid gloves upon his hands, as you may well suppose,
Nor dandy collar round his neck, nor shoes to hide his toes.

CHORUS: — For Adam was a gentleman, one of the olden time.

He neither rent nor taxes paid, nor duns came to his door,
For he had enough of meat and drink, and some left for the

poor ;

For the poor were not then born, nor either were the great,
No rogues or thieves had he to fear, so he never lock'd his gate.

For Adam, &c.

His wife his dinner cook'd each day, of good fat roast and boil'd,
And oftentimes, for want of fire, his dinner it got spoil'd ;
And he would have had it cook'd by gas, but he could not

afford —
And from Oldham had his coals, but the pits were not then

bored.

For Adam, &c.

He led a very happy sort of comfortable life,
And never quarrelled with anyone, except 'twas with his wife ;
And she durst trust him out at nights, for so some people say ;
Nor was she ever once afraid that he would go astray.

For Adam, &c.

And Eve, unlike our women now, in bows or frills ne'er drest,
Nor ever drank or gin or tea — now was not Adam blest?
Her neighbours she never scandalized, nor treated them with

scorn,

She was the pink of women then, because none else were born.

For Adam, &c.

286 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Old Adam ne'er example took by other people's ways,
Nor ever went to route or balls, to concerts or to plays ;
For concert-rooms and playhouses, they were not built then,
And Eve was never once accused of flirting with the men.

For Adam, &c.

At last poor Adam's days had run their course, and then, poor

man, he died,

Xor was there even one stood weeping by his bed-side ;
Without a good oak coffin they laid him in his clay,
Nor were they afraid of body-snatchers stealing him away.

For Adam, &c.'"

Frank Rabij. " Well clone, Jack ! you sing like a
nightingale, and the sight of your good-humoured face
adds much to your melody. We will have one more
bottle of claret, a rubber at whist, in the other room, and
to bed in good time — a rule I mean to adopt in my house,
to the best of my power to do so. It is written of Moses,
of whom we have just been speaking, that at the age
of 100 years, 'his eye was not dim, neither was his
natural force abated ; ' and as I hope to ride a-hunting
at fourscore, at least, I mean to keep early hours, as no
doubt Moses did.''

Jack Webber. " But, as a sportsman, if you wish to be
old, you must not regard all that Moses tells you. For
example ; he says, ' thou shalt not wear a garment of
divers sorts, as of linen and woollen together.' Now, who
can expect to hunt and shoot, in this country, without
suffering from rheumatism, if he do not wear flannel under
his shirt ; as for myself I should have been frozen as stiff
as the kitchen poker, many a night during the frost of
last winter but one, if I had not been allowed to roll
myself up in flannel."

Frank Raby. " Moses lived in a warm climate, Jack."

The first step, after breakfast, in a young sportsman's
house, is to the stables, a custom which was not departed
from by the party at Farndon House ; and when, on enter-
ing it, four vacant stalls were observed, Jack Webber
exclaimed :

" Hey-day, Frank ! what is become of your skewbald
team 1 " meaning the one to which the chestnut piebald
belonged.

"They went last night to the 'Barley Mow,' twelve
miles from hence, to take us on to Townlev Park, twelve
miles further, to call on that excellent fellow, as well as

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 287

capital sportsman and coachman, Peyton, in whose stables
you will see a good stud of both hunters and coach-horses,
all in right keeping. He knows that we are coming, so
that he will give us a good luncheon, a bowl of bishop
to wash it down with, and we shall pick up Jem Powell,
on the road, who will amuse us as we toddle along."

" Who is Jem Powell ? " inquired Goodall.

" I am surprised at the question," said Jack Webber ;
" I should just as soon have expected a man to ask who
is George III. Jem is one of the oldest and best coachmen
on the Holyhead road, and a very clever fellow to boot.
Indeed, he says of himself, that if he had had a college
education, his place would have been before the bars, and
not behind them, by which he means a first-class degree."

" No doubt he would," observed our hero ; " for I never
heard him express himself but with point, on any one
occasion ; and there is a dry humour in his remarks that
gives them additional weight."

As the clock struck eleven, our party commenced their
drive, Jack Webber on the box with his host ; Sir John
behind him on the roof ; and the rest where their fancy
placed them ; and this being the first time of Sir John see-
ing his pupil at work on his own coach, he was not a little
interested by the event. All went well, however. Frank
Eaby gave proof that he had not lost sight of the instruc-
tions he had received from Jack Bailey, when at Eton,
nor from himself during the vacations ; and he was at
once pronounced, both by the Baronet and Jack Webber,
as only requiring one more year's experience, to make
him a first-rate coachman. His hand on his horses was
light ; his temper was not to be ruffled, although it was
occasionally put to the test, by a wheeler not working to
please him ; he descended rather a steep hill without
having recourse to the skid, and yet with very little
pressure on the wheelers, and he showed himself a judge
of pace, by keeping his time to half a minute, having
allowed himself an hour and ten minutes to do the twelve
miles.

At the change — the well-known " Barley Mow " — stood
the equally well-known Jem Powell, looking over the
fresh team, which were standing in readiness at the door,
and he thus saluted the party when they pulled up :

" Good morning to ye, gentlemen ; I hope I sees you
all well. You have a fine morning for your drive ; I

288 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

hopes we stall find Sir Harry well. He is a worthy
gentleman, and a good friend to us coachmen ; and (look-
ing at Sir John) here's another of the same sort. I hears
of you, Sir John, and what you are doing for 'em on the
north road. I am told you have made some on 'em mend
their ways already. And now we are a-going to have
another good gentleman amongst us in these parts, and
God be thanked for him — of course I means the owner
of these here horses ; but I arn't a-going to say all I think
on him before his face. And sure enough here is Mr.
Hargrave and Mr. Webber. Why, Mr. Hargrave, I
haven't seen you since you was at Christchurch, when
I tried to make you a coachman, but you was so terribly
fond of those hounds, there was no making nothing on
you in our line. As for the other gentlemen, I can't say
as I knows them."

" Then I'll introduce you to them," said Frank Raby.
"This is Mr. Houghton, here is Mr. Goodall, and here
is Lord Edmonston ; the two first-named gentlemen you
must have known before, Jem, for they were at Oxford."

" No doubt, sir," continued Jem, " but not in our line.
I am glad to see my Lord ; I likes to have a Lord about
my coach, it looks so respectable ; and we have as good
a one as any in England on our road, and a brother to
one that the world cannot beat. I believe, on my soul,
that he don't give away less than £400 a year to
coachmen and guards, besides having several of them
occasionally at his house, when they are sick."

"You mean the Hon. Thomas Kington," said Jack
Webber, shaking Jem heartily by the hand ; " he is
an out-and-outer, as we say of a capital leader, but only
think of his being the son of a judge ! "

" He is as good a judge in our line, as his father ever
was in his," said Jem ; " I don't think there is a steadier,
better coachman in England than his Honour is."

" I have heard a great deal of Mr. Kington," said Lord
Edmonston, "but I never chanced to come across him."

" Then, my Lord," replied Jem, " as the horses are put
to, I haven't time to tell you half I knows of him, now,
but as we goes along, I'll let you a bit into his history."

"Are you all right?" cried Frank Raby, when he had
seated himself comfortably on his box ; and on the answer
in the affirmative being given, away went the team, the
skewbald leader taking to his collar without a single

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 289

plunge, working admirably throughout, with the privilege
of having the bar.

" Well," said Jem ; "a prettier team than this no man
would wish to sit behind."

" And well turned out, eh, Jein ? " said Webber.

" And well handled, too," remarked Sir John.

Jem nodded assent — merely observing that he should
be a better judge of that when they got to the top of a
hill which was before them, nearly a mile long.

" But," resumed Jem, " I was a-going to tell you about
that there Mr. Kington — His Honour, as the coachmen
and guards all calls him on this road, and most others.
Do you know, he works almost as regular as we poor
servants do, keeping fourteen coach-horses in full employ.
He drives to his country town, fifteen miles from his
house, and back, four days in the week, and on some
other road the other two, but, like me, he lays rest on
a Sunday ; that is to say, he only puts to a pair, and
drives his family to church. They tells me there is not
a poor man in distress in liis parish, he is so kind to them
all ; and as to coachmen and guards, he has saved many
of their souls as well as their bodies."

" What do you mean by saving their bodies ? " asked
Lord Edmonston.

"Why, my Lord," replied Jem, "he saves 'em in two
ways. First, although all the coachmen and guards
which pass through his village have a glass of good ale,
at the public, chalked up to his Honour, he advises them
not to drink spirits, nor too much of anything. Then,
again, if any of them meet with an accident, or are sick,
or want a week's rest, his servants' hall and a good bed
are open to them, till such times as they recover. His
Honour would have made the best mail-coachman in
England, for he keeps such capital time, even with his
own coach. He won't wait a moment for nobody when
his time is up ; and do you know, my Lord, he once left
his lady behind, to come home in a post-chaise, because
she warn't to the time at the inn from which he starts.
That's what I call being punctual. Then he goes through
all the manoeuvres that we regular coachmen go through.
When he drives into the yard, he walks into the office,
hangs up his coat and whip, takes off his knee-caps and
shawl, and then (what we can't do) walks out like a
gentleman."

19

290 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

At this moment a gentleman in black trotted past the
coach, and on its being remarked by our hero, that Jem
made him a most respectful salutation, he asked him his
name.

" His name, sir ! " answered Jem ; " why I thought
everybody knew Parson Smith — the cleverest parson in
the county. They tells me that when he preaches the
church is as full as a cock-pit."

" By the simile you have used/' observed Lord
Edmonston, " I presume you are given to cock-fighting."

w Have been so, in a small way, all my life, my Lord,"
replied Jem. " And when we gets to Sir Harry's, he will
show you, if you ask him, the picture of a favourite cock
of mine, that won me six battles. It is painted on the
dial-plate of a watch I gave the Baronet soon after he left
college ; and there are also pictures of a race-horse, a
bull- dog, and a greyhound on it, with my own ugly face
in the centre."

A good laugh, of course, followed this episode of Jem's,
and, when it ceased, Lord Edmonston told him he was
sorry to hear he was fond of so cruel a sport as cock-
fighting. " My friend, Mr. Kaby, had a turn that way,"
said his Lordship, " but I am happy to say he now flies at
nobler game."

" Why, my Lord," said Jem, " I much fear there are no
sports which you gentlemen takes delight in, that are not
more or less cruel. I thinks as how I should have given
up cock-fighting, had not a very clever gentleman of our
University made me believe it is not at all cruel."

" Do you recollect what arguments he made use of 1 "
inquired Hargrave.

" Why," answered Jem, " if you can take them in my
homely language, they were much after this fashion. He
said he did not think cock-fighting equal as to cruelty to
horse-racing, in. which poor animals are forced, against
their nature, to performances beyond their strength, with
whips and spurs, which jockeys call cutting up. And this
now happens only a few months arter the poor sufferer
has been taken from the side of its clam. But in the
fighting of game-cocks the case is different ; for instead of
a force against nature, it is an indulgence of nature."

" Of natural propensities, you rneaii, Jem," said Frank
Raby.

" I shouldn't wonder," resumed Jem ; " but this is my

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 291

clumsy way of telling the story. ' Cocks at their walks,'
he said, ' and at full liberty, will seek each other for battle,
as far as they can hear each other's crowing, and the
putting spurs on their heels, when brought into the pit to
fight, is quite contrary to cruelty, for the battle is sooner
over, and what they suffer is nothing, or next to nothing,
to what they would suffer, were they to fight with their
own natural heels, bruising each other in every tender
part — killing each other, in short, by inches. Then here,'
he said, 'is the comparison between the man who fights a
duel, and him who fights for money in the ring. The
one meets his man like the game-cock, of his own free
will, and with artificial weapons ; but the other is made
to fight merely for the sake of money, and as he fights
with natural weapons, he receives blows and bruises,
almost to the point of death, just to amuse idle lookers-on,
and for the purpose of gambling on the event.' "

" Did your friend say anything about hunting 1 " asked
Hargrave.

"Yes, Mr. Hargrave," replied Jem, "he compared it in
one way to cock-fighting. 'Hounds and greyhounds,'
said he, 'are formed for the pursuit of their respective
game ; they are guided by nature.' "

" By natural instinct, you mean, Jem," interrupted
Hargrave.

" Just so," said Jem ; " they acts of their own accord, he
told me ; the whole is an indulgence of their natural
propensities, as you call 'em."

"But the game they hunt, what did he say of it?"
continued Hargrave.

" Well, to be sure," replied Jem, " he said it must be
anything but comfortable when the dogs are pursuing it,
but its fate is soon settled, and there is no dying of
wounds, as there is from shooting and fishing."

" But the very fact of the game-cock being the noble
animal he is," said Lord Edmonston, " is the reason why
he should be restrained from fighting without a natural
cause."

" Man may be considered as the delegate of Heaven
over inferior creatures, but he has no right to torment
them unnecessarily. Then observe the character of the
cock, as he claps his wings before he crows ; how proud,
how courageous is his appearance ! The very lion himself
is said to fear him. At all events, his graceful attitude

292 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

and carriage, together with his high-beaming eye, rank
him in the highest class of birds."

" All very true," said Hargrave ; " but without defend-
ing cock-fighting, will you show me the man who can
account for that early instinct which impresses young
animals with the notion of the situation and use of their
natural weapons, and of even using them before they are
properly formed, and at the same time can say, that the
display of this instinct was not given them for some good
purpose? I can only observe that the science of cock-
fighting, if I may be allowed to call it so, is one of the
most difficult, if not the most extraordinary of any
connected with the animal system. Training the race-
horse is A B C to it. Fancy an experienced feeder being
able to discern to a nicety to what extent cocks of one
particular breed will bear reducing in weight, and what
those of another. Then one man shall make his cocks
fight for three consecutive days with equal strength and
spirit, whereas his competitor cannot keep his up to the
mark beyond the second day. He will be at the height
of condition one day, and retrograde rapidly the next.
Again, what a strange phenomenon is this : — cocks, of
the same blood, bred from a father and daughter, will
run away, whilst those from a mother and son will stay to
be killed piecemeal, and vice versa ! Lastly, their colour ;
how true to their feather are they preserved by the most
eminent breeders — without the slightest deviation, indeed,
for a great number of generations ! There is a well-
attestea instance of this on record. An eminent breeder
of game-fowls had preserved an invariable production of
what are called black-breasted reds during fifteen years,
but in the sixteenth he had several light piles in one
hatch, or brood. No change of eggs could have taken place,
nor was there a possibility of the access of any other cock
to his hens. On looking back, however, he ascertained
that, five years previously to his having his original
breed out of Shropshire, there had been a cross of a
Cheshire pile in the hens. Thus, it appears, the plumage
had remained perfect for twenty-one years."

"A most singular fact, undoubtedly," said Lord
Edmonston, " but I understand the same phenomenon
occasionally occurs in horses. I am told, that not only
does the colour often go back to a very distant cross, but
that a small dark-coloured spot on the hinder quarters of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 293

Eclipse is, to this day, entailed on some of his blood,
although distant several generations from the original."

" Similar phenomena," observed Houghton, " are observ-
able in flowers. What florists call ' a run flower,' is one
which has the inherent vice of changing colour, with
little chance of regaining its primitive and valuable
brilliancy. In a perfect flower, every leaf should be
striped according to its class, whether flake or bizarre."

" Well," said Jem, " I cannot talk with you gentlemen
on these matters — because why, you know, I am no
scholard, but there is one point you haven't touched upon,
concerning cock-fighting. Mr. Hargrave here will tell
you — for I have often seen him in a cock-pit — that cocks
show as much skill, in defence and attack, as the best
prize-fighters of the day, and, like them, their blows have
more or less force, according to their better skill. If a
cock's legs are out of the direction of his body, we call
him a dry-spurred or dry-heeled cock, because he can't
hit to do much harm. He seldom carries death with his
heels. On the contrary, if his legs are in a proper direc-
tion with his body, he stands erect, rises high, is a close
hitter, and generally wins his battle, and in a short time
too. Oh ! it is a fine sight to see a set-to between two
such cocks as this, and I wish I was sure it warn't cruel."

" As for that, Jem," said Hargrave, " I fear we cannot
divest it of a certain portion of cruelty. Although, to a
thinking mind, nothing is more astounding than that
early instinct which impresses young animals with the
notion of the situation of their natural weapons, in the
first place, and, in the next, of using them, even before
they are propefly formed — for a young cock will spur at
his adversary before his spurs are grown out, and a calf,
or lamb, will push or butt with their heads before their
horns are sprouted — I fear we have no right wantonly to
expose one animal to the fury of another. But so it will
be to the end of time. That perfect calm, that uninter-
rupted felicity which some persons would wish to in-
troduce into the world, is but a chimera — a beautiful one,
I allow — but only appearing possible to those who judge
of things according to their imagination alone ; since
everyone who forms a cool judgment on the subject will
see that the earth was never designed for such a state."

" I do not quite agree with you, Hargrave," observed
Lord Edmonston ; " I think "

294 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" Beg pardon, my Lord, for interrupting you," said Jem ;
and, touching our hero on the shoulder, thus quaintly
addressed him: "Beg pardon, Mr. Raby, but I should
like to hear your bars rattle a little down this next hill.
Excuse me, sir, but, on the last, you committed a fault
which most young coachmen commit — you let your
leaders draw, which of course makes it worse for your
wheelers. Always let your bars rattle a little, going
down hill."

" That near leader over-pulls me," said Frank.

" I observe he does," replied Jem ; " pull his rein three
inches through your hand, and gripe it tightly with your
thumb ; and when your horses are on their collars, keep
your wheelers \ip to him, and he will not pull you so
much. But I'll alter his coupling-rein for you when we
get to Sir Harry's."

" That's right, Jem," said Hargrave, " let us have no
more cocking at present ; give us something on the
road."

" A little of your history," added Lord Edmonston.

" Why that will be rather a longish story, my Lord,"
replied Jem ; " I think we had better leave it till we are
on the road homewards. A little of Sir Harry's beef, and
a glass or two of his good ale, will make my tongue run
more glib."

" Like a newly -greased wheel — eh, Jem ? " said Jack
Webber.

Arrived at Townley Park, they found the worthy
Baronet expecting them, and with a really good luncheon
on his dinner-table ; for which a twenty-four miles' ride
through the balmy air of a spring morning, added to the
cheerful talk on the road, had given them a keen appe-
tite. And by rather a curious coincidence, at the very
moment in which they drove up to the door, another
coach was to be seen at the farther end of the park, in
which were four strapping brown horses, trotting away at
the rate of, at least, twelve miles in the hour, with apparent
ease to themselves, and in the hands of a perfect master of
his art. This proved to be the splendid turn-out of Mr.
Herson, a neighbour of Sir Harry's, who chanced to call
on him at that hour ; and when it is stated that he gave
400 guineas for the leaders which he had this day at work,
their fine appearance and paces can be very readily
accounted for. But to the arrival of our hero and his

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 295

party, which we will relate in the dialogical form, as
saving some trouble : —

Sir Harry. " Glad to see you on your own box, Raby ;
when you were last on mine, I thought you would not be
long before you got to work. The old uncle cut up well,
I find, and I rejoice to think that you have settled so near
nie, and on so good a road. How d'ye do, Inkleton ?
What, Jack Webber ! — are you there, with your round
and rosy face ? I suppose you are giving the young one
some instructions. But there is old Jem Powell there, I
see ; I beg his pardon, a thousand times, for supposing
any man could act the schoolmaster in his presence. Glad
to see you, Jem ; how smart you are to-day ! And
Hargrave — delighted to see you ; you are one quite after
my own heart — fond of the box and hounds — a right
good sportsman, and the best man out of Christchurch,
in your time, on the pigskin."

Frank Baby. " I believe, Sir Harry, I have three
friends here to whom you are not known. Allow me to
introduce to you Lord Edmonston, a most particular friend
of mine, although not one of the best on the pigskin ; also
Mr. Goodall and Mr. Houghton, both Christchurch men,
not much in our line at present, but first-class men in
another."

Sir Harry. " Happy to see you all. Now let Jem take
your coach into the yard, and himself into the servants'
hall ; a bit of venison pasty will do you all no harm after
your drive, and I have ordered a good bowl of ' bishop.'
But here is Herson coming ; you will now see the best
and fastest team, this day, in England ; and so they
ought to be, for he has not a horse in his coach-stable
that cost him less than a hundred, and he gave two
hundred a-piece for the leaders he has in to-day. I know
them at this distance, by their action."

Five minutes, or less, brought this splendid team to the
door. To some of this party Mr. Herson and his friends
were known, and the usual introduction to the others
being soon concluded, luncheon was the order of the day,
and ample justice was done to it — by the Farndon party,
especially. A walk to the stable-yard followed, which
may be said to have been a matter of course, from the
nature of the parties assembled, and the prevailing
similarity of their tastes. The following may be relied
upon for its contents : —

296 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

In the hunters' stables were seven first-rate horses, but
not looking to advantage, being stripped of their clothing,
and, in the language of the grooms of that day, " put out
of condition," previously to being turned out for the
summer, the Baronet not having quite relinquished the
grazing sytsem, although his stud remained abroad for a
much less time than that of his neighbour did, and were
allowed a certain portion of corn. They appeared to our
hero to be just the sort of horses to carry thirteen stone,
which they did carry, whilst under their owner, let the
country or pace be what they may. In short, they were
ridden by one of the first horsemen England ever saw.
Amongst them was Watchmaker, the Baronet's favourite
horse, and of which we have already spoken as having
signalized himself on the Bosworth day, in one instance ;
in the struggle between the orange and red, in another ;
and also as having been depictured in the " Sporting
Magazine," in the act of taking a desperate leap, and
setting the whole field. He was a grey gelding, sixteen
hands high, of singularly fine form, and a delightful horse
to ride over every description of ground.

The next thing that attracted the eye of the party was
the Baronet's driving coach, which stood in the yard, with
the bars on the head of the pole, great-coats on the box,
and behind ; lamps in the irons, with the slides down, but
fresh trimmed — everything, in short, ready for a start.
The fact was, the Baronet was going to dine with a friend,
residing about twelve miles distant from Townley, with
the intention of returning at night. The coach-stable was
then entered, and a gratifying sight was presented to
by far the majority of the party. It contained thirteen
coach-horses, not, perhaps, remarkable for their fine
figures, but coming under the denomination of very useful
horses for road work, of which they had no small share,
scarcely a day passing, in the summer, but they took their
turns in harness ; and when the locality of the fixture
suited for wheels, they were generally seen at the cover's
side in the winter. The colour was grey, with the
exception of one piebald, but the Baronet was not partial
to piebalds, having, for the most part, found them soft,
and not strong in their harness. Lastly, the harness-room
was greatly admired, not only for the cleanliness of the
tackle, but for the real business - like appearance of
everything which it contained. Among the items were,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 297

three sets of road harness ; two sets for a pair ; two for
the break ; two of single harness ; three pairs of lamps ;
four sets of bars ; two tool boxes, complete ; three skids,
and two drag-chains ; seven box coats (besides those on
the coach in the yard), and seventeen whips, some of
them having the appearance of not being made yesterday.
Then an interesting spectacle followed. At a given
moment — the party having returned to the house to
finish the bowl of " bishop" — the three teams came to the
door, taking a sweep round the large grass plot in front
of the hall door, which set them oft' to advantage. The
Baronet's led the way, driven by his head coachman, and
followed by that of Mr. Herson, driven also by his ; whilst
Jem Powell brought up our hero's in equally good style.
As may be supposed, they became the subject of remark,
but the preference, as to horses, was unanimously given
to that of Mr. Herson ; and deservedly so, no doubt. In
the first place, the prices given for them entitled them to
be first- rate; in the next, they were nearly thorough-
bred ; and lastly, they were as fresh on their legs as when
they first felt the rein, which could not be said of the two
other teams, some of each of which showed marks of
something beyond what is called gentleman's work.

Having taken leave of their host, who expressed him-
self much pleased with our young sportsman's turn-out,
as well as the coachmanlike style in which he approached
the house on his arrival, they pursued their road home-
ward, allowing themselves the same length of time to
perform the twenty-four miles of ground.

" Now, Jem," said Jack Webber, after passing the park
gates, " let us have a little of your history. By the
colour on your cheeks, you appear to be all the better
for the Baronet's good cheer, and, as I said before, your
tongue will slip over the ground like a newly-greased
wheel."

"My history," said Jem, "is told in a few words. I
have been a road coachman these three-and-thirty years,
and never lay rest, thank God, more than a dozen
journeys in all that time, except when I broke my leg,
and had my right foot frost-bitten. Then I had — like
you gentlemen, who goes to school and college to fit you
for your situations — the regular education of a coachman.
I did not jump from off some country gentleman's pair-
orse coach-box, or from behind a counter in a coach-office,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

•or, perhaps, that of a grocer's shop, on to a stage-coach, as
some of our present would-be coachmen have done, and
•who hardly knows a coupling-rein from a bearing-rein,
still less what a horse can do in his harness ; but I began
my education by riding the leaders before my father, on
the heavy Brummagem, for better than three years.
That's the place for a young man to learn his business —
Taefore a good coachman, as my father was, and a coach
that carries three ton weight, as that often did, in roads
over the fellies of the wheels, and none of the best of
cattle. Then, I have never had but one master and one
coach since I have been regular at work, now going on for
thirty-four years."

" Are you married ? " asked Lord Edmonston.

" No, my Lord," replied Jem ; " I was near being had
once, but I slipped out on't, and took care never to run
my head into that there collar again ; I feared it might
prove what we calls ' a false one.' "

"But what has been your objection to the married
state 1 " resumed Lord Edmonston.

" Why, to tell you the truth, my Lord," answered Jem,
" I have more than one objection to it. In the first place,
a gentleman who sat by me on the box, many years ago,
made use of these words to a passenger who sat behind
him on the roof, and they made such an impression on me
that, if I was to live a thousand years, I should never
forget them : — ' The ancients,' he said, 'are clearly against
the female sex, and the moderns are not very favourably
disposed towards them, from all I have read of them.'
Now, thinks I to myself, surely both ancients and
moderns can't be wrong on this here matter ; but as
neither seems to have a favourable opinion of woman-
Tiind, I thought I had best leave them alone. And it was
& very clever man who spoke this in my hearing."

" Some rum old fellow of a college, I'll be bound for it,"
said Jack Webber, "who would not have given up his
common room comforts, and his old port wine, for the
finest woman in England."

" No, he warrrt," resumed Jem ; " but I ain't told you
' my other reason. I daresay there is much pleasure in the
married life, but I am quite certain there is also much
pain. What scenes have I witnessed amongst husbands
and wives, and parents and children, since I have drove
this coach — I mean when taking leave of each other ! I

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 299

have seen two or three rascals a-going to be hanged, but
I never saw them half so cast down as I have seen
passengers on my coach, when leaving their families
behind them — perhaps for ever! I have heard them
bellowing and crying for the first two stages, and they
wouldn't take no comfort. My very heart has bled for
them."

" You must be rich, Jem," observed Lord Edmonston.

" No, I arn't rich, my Lord," replied Jem ; " not but
what, if I was to leave the coach to-morrow, I should have
enough to keep me — just able to make tongue and buckle
meet."

" But what have you done with your money, Jem, eh ? "
said Jack \Vebber ; " two coaches a day, and no one to
look after you ! Something for the shirt pocket, every
day, eh, Jem ? "

" Why," replied Jem, " I am not a-going to boast that
I am honester than other folks ; my having served one
master three-and-thirty years will best speak to that
point ; but I have been a good friend to my poor brother's
widow and children. He was killed last Christmas-day
thirteen years, on the Worcester mail, and I have sup-
ported his family ever since. Poor fellow, he was one of
the nicest light coachmen you ever saw on a coach-box ;
and I hope, one day or another, his eldest boy will have
iny place."

" What you have told us is much to your credit," said
Frank Raby, " and it is no wonder that you have so many
friends."

" I have many kind friends, indeed," replied Jem ;
" only think of Squire Amstey keeping a horse for me at
Oxford, all the summer months, on purpose for me to
ride out after I come in with my coach ; and I have a
good dinner at his house every Sunday in the year, if I
like to go for it."

" Then you don't drive on Sundays ? " observed
Goodall.

" No," replied Jem ; " I would not work on a Sunday
for any man ; it's like leading the life of a nigger. I
generally goes to church in the morning, and to the
Squire's in the evening."

" Xo alehouse work," observed Lord Edmonston.

" I smokes one pipe, and drinks a pint of ale, every
evening at the ' Black Dog,' after I have had my dinner.

300 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

I am no drinker, nor would I advise any coachman to be
such, particularly one that drives over such cold ground
as I do. All I have on the road is half a pint of ale,
with my lunch, where I meets my coach, and then I enjoy
my dinner when I gets in. Indeed, I often say to myself,
when returning over those cold hills : — ' Oh, how I could
set-to now, at a good rump-steak and onions ! ' "

"I have always thought," observed Lord Edmonston,
" that road coachmen must obtain a great knowledge
of mankind from their everyday communication with
persons of all descriptions, and nearly from all countries."

"Why, my Lord," said Jem, "we meets with all sorts
— good, bad, and indifferent — and especially on this road.
We carries a great many Irish."

" And how do you find them ? " asked Jack Webber.

" There are many good ones amongst them, but still
more good for nothing," was the answer ; " but, saving
your presence, gentlemen, they are all devils to brag. I
never carried one, calling himself a gentleman, that had less
than £1500 a year."

" And a park 1 " said Raby.

" A park, of course," resumed Jem ; " and many on
them talk of their castles — in the air, I suppose. But I
could not help thinking that they must often get pulled
up, when talking so big. Indeed, I pulled up one of
them myself, last summer. He asked me who lived at
Warton House, on our road. I told him the Earl of
Connell — my kind friend, as you have heard me speak of,
Mr. Raby. ' By the powers ! ' said he, ' but I know his
Lordship well ; he comes from my own country. How
I should like to stop and: ask him how he does ! ' Now,
as to that part of the story, you know it was quite out of
the question, as the hall is nearly a mile from the road ;
but, as ill-luck for the Irishman would have it, we had
not gone far before we meets my Lord, who pulls up his
horse and gives me a letter to take to a friend of his in
Oxford. ' Who is that gentleman ? ' said the Irishman,
as soon as the coach went on. ' That nobkman, sir,' said
I, ' is the Earl of Connell.' Now, I says nothing more
on the subject for as much as a quarter of an hour, giving
the gentleman time to recover himself a little, for he
looked mighty simple after the answer I gave him about
his ' friend ; ' but, at last, I turns myself a little towards
him on the box, and looking full in his face, says — •

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 301

' Why, sir, you seems very intimate with that there
Lord.' "

" Capital ! " exclaimed Lord Edmonston ; " Junius him-
self never gave a man a more severe rebuke. Let me
ask you a question. From your constant observation of
character, are you able to distinguish beforehand the
persons from whom you are likely to be best remunerated
for your trouble — at all events, those who will do you
justice, by giving you the customary fee? "

"There are but three descriptions of passengers,"
replied Jem, " who pay more than the accustomed fee,
and those are very soon picked out. There is, first, the
gentleman who not only bespeaks the box place, but who
asks questions about the horses, &c. ; he is sure to come
the double tip. Next, is the quiet, gentlemanlike-looking
passenger, with a good collar to his coat, who merely asks
a few questions about the places we pass by on the road,
and who has a good-sized black portmanteau about the
coach. We are pretty sure of him. But the best
customer of all is the just paid-off sailor, three parts
drunk. I have often had a crown put into my hands by
one of those chaps, and once half a guinea, which I
refused. ' Why, you lubberly land lubber,' said he, ' if I
don't give it to you, I shall give it to the next that steers
us ; put it into your locker, and be thankful.' "

" How do you find women pay you ? " asked Houghton.

"Generally speaking, unless they happen to have a
young child about the coach, which you are kind to,"
answered Jem, " or can throw in a word or two, to tickle
them about their good looks, they are the worst payers
we have. So far from giving us a double tip, they are
much more apt to tip us the -double when they can."

" You don't seem to be very fond of the women, Jem,"
said Goodall.

" They are all very well in their places," replied Jem,
" but I don't like too many on 'em about my coach. I
hates the sight of a bandbox, and still worse of an old
maid and her lap-dog."

" I observe," said Lord Edmonston, " there is not so
much swearing now among road coachmen as there used
to be, when I first travelled by coaches."

" Please you, my Lord," answered Jem, " there is not so
much swearing among gentlemen as was used to be. De-
pend upon this, my Lord, we little ones borrows many

302 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

vices from you great ones ; and you great ones, now and
then — I ax pardon, my Lord — borrows from us little ones.
When gentlemen leave off swearing, depend on it, it will
get very much out of fashion."

At this moment one of the Birmingham and London
coaches gave our party the meeting, and called forth some
remarks from them on the superior style of the cattle, as
well as the improved build of the coach. It was full
inside and out, together with an abundance of luggage,
but was nevertheless proceeding at the rate of eight miles-
an hour, on rather a considerable ascent of ground.

" What country in the world but England," exclaimed
Jack Webber, " can exhibit such a sight as that ? We
ought to be prouder of it than we are. There go half the
population of a village, together with all their traps, as
we call luggage on the Brighton road, carried at the rate
of a good nine miles an- hour, all stoppages included ; and,
although on what may be called a ticklish balance, as safe
as if they were in their beds, by the superior system of
putting horses into harness and driving them. I repeat,
we ought to be prouder of it than we are."

" They tells me, Mr. Webber," said Jem Powell, " though
I scarce knows how to believe it, that we sha'n't be proud
of it long. They say coaching by horses is soon to be at
an end, and that we are to have coaches go of themselves
— that is to say, by some kind of 'machinery which it is
not in my power to explain. This seems a hard case, to
knock up such a system as coaching, now that it is just
brought to perfection, or nearly so. It will be the ruin of
a great many people who now gets their living on the road.
But they tells me this is the case in most other things,
nowadays. Some busybody, with, perhaps, more brains
than his neighbours, and wanting to make himself rich,
without caring who he may make poor, comes out with
some new-fangled plans, and upsets all the old ones, which
did very well for us before."

" There is some truth in- what you have said," observed
Lord Edmonston ; " this is a wise and understanding age ;
but if we look into the history of mankind, in all periods
of the world, we find men have arisen, from time to time,
who have changed the whole face of some department of
human knowledge ; nevertheless, Jem, you need not alarm
yourself on this point. I conceive you have been told that
carriages will be propelled on roads by what is called a

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 305

locomotive power, produced by steam, but, be assured, it
will never take place. Whenever they travel by steam, it
must be on iron tram-roads, but the time is far distant
before that will be accomplished. At all events, coaching
by horses will last your time."

" Then," resumed Jem, " there is a man who has built a
carriage that cannot be overturned, but they tells me it is
as heavy as a broad-wheel waggon, and as much iron about
it as is in three of our coaches. Surely our coaches are
safe enough, in safe hands."

" I saw the coach you speak of, tried," observed Goodall ;:
"it certainly did run on a bank elevated thirty inches
from the ground, and the centre of gravity was not dis-
turbed, but I thought it a sad complicated piece of work-
manship, and, for my own part, I would as soon ride in a
waggon."

" Well," said Jem, " we must not find fault with all'
those busybodies, as I calls them, for this American chap,.
Mr. McAdam, is showing our people how to make the roads-
run well, though they are terribly loth to follow his-
directions. They won't believe but what those smalL
stones will grind all to pieces in a very short time, instead
of — which they do — forming a hard and smooth surface..
Indeed, I was myself some time before I could persuade-
myself that they would do so, even if properly broke, and
put thick enough on the road."

"The surface of a road is formed as ice is formed,"'
observed Lord Edmonston, "by the uniting of its own
spiculoe, which dovetail into each other ; thus, small stones -
unite by their own angles, and produce the effect we see._
I considered McAdam the greatest benefactor to England
since Dr. Jenner, for, until we adopted his plan, we did1,
not know what a good road is. The large stones pre-
viously made use of, both in forming and repairing roads,
were calculated, mechanically, to render them uneven and
full of holes, inasmuch as they acted as levers to raise up-
the ground, when a wheel passed over one end of them."

"You have been very lucky in the accident way, have
you not, Jem ? " said Webber.

" Never throwed a coach over, sir," replied Jem, " but
have had her over twice — once by the axle-tree breaking, .
when I broke my leg, and once — before we got patent
boxes — by losing_a fore-wheel. There ought to be an Act
of Parliament to prevent any coach from running that has

304 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

not patent boxes to the wheels, for linch-pins are not to be
depended upon ; and axle-trees should be made stronger
than they are."

" I think so, too," observed Webber ; " the sustaining
power should be much more than equal to the impending
weight. I had my coach over once from an axle-tree
giving way, but, luckily, no one was hurt. Coach axle-
trees should be tried before used by an hydraulic press,
the test being twice the weight they would ever be re-
quired to sustain. And care should be taken that not
only the best iron is used, but that there is no flaw in it —
for axle-trees are always found to break where any flaw
exists."

" But would it not be difficult to find out whether there
is a flaw in the iron ? " asked Jem.

" Not at all," replied Webber ; " let the axle-tree be
placed on an anvil, and struck on its nose at one end with
a key, or any bit of iron or steel, and if, on the ear being
placed at the opposite nose, a hissing sound is heard, you
may be sure a flaw exists somewhere. Should it be about
the centre, no harm may arise ; but if within a short
distance of the shoulder, which is the chief bearing part,
it is a great source of danger."

" As to accidents to coaches," resumed Jem, " they are
almost always to be traced to carelessness either in the
builders, the drivers, or the horsers of them. How many
proprietors keep on a night coachman, when they know he
is drunk on his box four nights in the week, although, to
be sure, this part of the business is not so bad as it used to
be, in my early days ! It was a chance, then, to find a
night coachman quite sober. Then how many proprietors
keep on a restive horse, sooner than lose a few pounds by
getting rid of him to the best bidder ! Again : what
cripples will some on 'em put on the mails over the middle
ground ! A gentleman once told me, that he was on the
box of one of the cross country mails, when, after passing
a very awkward bridge, on a dark and foggy night, the
coachman said to him : — ' Well over that 'ere bridge, sir ;
there's only one eye among ws,' which, of course, was his own.
But only think, sir, of four blind horses for night work ! "
" Give us a few maxims, Jem," said Frank Raby, " by
the observance of which you have succeeded so well in
keeping your coach on her legs."

" They are few and simple, sir," replied Jem ; " but,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 305

mind ye, I haven't had much practice of night work, my
lamps being only lit for an hour or two in the dead of the
winter ; but you shall have what you wish. First of all,
I examine my coaches before they leave the builder's
yard, to see that the best kind of stuff is put into them ;
and I am very particular about the pole fitting tight in
the futchels. Once a pole begins to swag in the futchels,
a little thing breaks it ; and, mind ye, it is one of the
main stays of a coach ! — what the rudder is to the ship.
Then I never drive a shying horse as leader, if I can help
it ; but if he is too slight for the wheel of our coach, or
will not work well in that place, I always put a mope
over his face, which prevents his seeing anything beyond
a few yards of the road under his feet, and that's quite
enough. A coach-horse don't want to be a-looking about
him, no more than the man who drives him, unless it be
at his road. I am very particular about my harness —
about the reins and billets. I watch the wearing parts,
and have them cut out and replaced in time, and 1 make
my horse-keepers beat the collars and keep them clean, so
that, in spite of the heavy loads my coach carries, and the
steep hills on our road, I never have a gib-horse, because
I never have a sore shoulder. In short, I hates to see a
broken skin about a coach-horse, and he never need have
one, if his coachman minds his business. Poor th ings !
coach-horses have too often punishment enough in their
work, without being nearly flayed alive, as they are in
some hands. As for mine, they are as round as balls, and
as free from scars as you gentlemen's hunters are ; indeed,
people say I shall spoil the coach1 by nursing them too
much, and not galloping headlong, as some of t'others do
on this road. But see what happens ; scarce a week but
one on 'em goes over. A gentleman comes up to me t'other
day, and says, ' Jem, what will you take me to Birming-
ham for ? ' ' My fare, sir,' said I, ' is fifteen shillings.' ' I
can go by the Rora (Aurora),' said he, 'for ten.' 'No
doubt, sir,' I replied, ' but then there's the doctor's bill ! '
He went with me, and that very day they had an accident
with the Bx)ra."

" Of what description 1 " asked Lord Edmonston.

"They was a-galloping, my Lord, against the opposi-
tion, which was just behind them, and over they went."

" And was anyone hurt ? "

i Which he did.
20

3o6 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

"Several, my Lord."

"Of course the opposition stopped to afford assistance
to the passengers."

" Not a bit of it, my Lord ; one gentleman told me that,
as he was in the act of rolling away from the coach, he
heard the opposition coachman sing out to the other, as
he galloped by — 'What, Joe, your bees are a-swarming
this fine morning, are they ? ' Then again," resumed
Jem, " I takes a precaution that, perhaps, few others does.
On my two worst hills, I gives the man who looks after
the road, a pot of beer, now and then, to leave a few
yards of loose stone or gravel in two, or perhaps three,
places on the near side ; when I feel the coach press on
the wheel-horses going down these hills, I run her into
this loose stone, or gravel, and, if it don't quite balance
her, it so far checks her as to make all safe. Then, as
this prevents my putting on the skid, I can let 'em go
towards the bottom, and "

" Let them avail themselves of the impetus of motion —
the vis vivida, as we call it," observed Lord Edmonston.

" 7 calls it cheating 'em out of half the opposite hill,"
said Jem.

"You have had your share of kickers, I suppose,"
observed "Webber.

" Not lately," replied Jem. " My master and I are old
acquaintances now ; I can pick my stock a little ; and
depend on't I don't pick out a kicker. But when I was
a-going over, I didn't think much of kickers, dangerous as
they are. If leaders, I always had a ring on the leading-
reins, between the head turrets of the wheelers and the
pad turrets of the leaders, so as to prevent their getting
under their tails ; and if at wheel, I took care to have a
right strong kicking trace over their backs. I got tired
of carrying a wheeler on the pole, one day ; and as for
leaders, I have had their legs so fast, either among the
bars, or among the pole-chains, that I more than once
thought I must have got a saw to work to get them out.
Never keep a kicker, Mr. Raby, he gives no notice ; a
mere pinch of a pad, or even a twist in his trace, sets him
off ; and he cares not where he runs you, till he has had
his kick out. Depend on't he'll never leave it off, for his
real meaning is — he don't like work, and he wants to kick
himself out of harness at once. And be sure always keep
your own side on the road "

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 307

Jack Webber — interrupting him —

"The rule of the road is a paradox quite,

I confess I have thought it so long :
If you go to the left you are sure to go right,
If you go to the right, you are wrong."

" I am not much of a man for poetry," resumed Jem ;
"but never throw a chance away in coaching, for,
remember, other limbs and lives are in your care besides
your own. Never run too near carts, and waggons, and so
forth. The horses in them may bolt towards you, and
catch hold of you before you can get away from them —
especially if your team is not one of the handiest. But,
mind this — wherever your leaders' bars can go, your
wheels can go, without touching, with something to spare
— that is to say, provided your leaders are on the collars
at the time. I was once in a nice scrape by going too
near a cart in which two horses ran abreast of each other
before the shaft horse. The trace of the off horse caught
my roller bolt, and thus we were locked together as fast
as if we had been in the same vice."

" And how did you get out of it 1 " asked Webber.

"Why, by a bit of good luck," replied Jem ; "the cart-
horses kept pace with me, till they got blown, and then
stopped of their own accord ; the driver was in the cart,
without reins, and had no command of them. It cured
me of running too near a team of powerful horses.

" But to show you how soon an accident may happen to
a coach, and from what a trifling cause, I will tell you
what happened to a fellow-servant of mine about a dozen
years back. The collar of his box coat was fastened by
what is called a hook and eye ; having occasion to stroke
his chin with his right hand, on which was a strong glove,
with a hole in it, the hook entered the hole, and held his
hand fast. The horses bolted at the moment towards the
near side of the road, which, being deprived of the use of
his right hand, he had not the power of preventing, and
the consequence was, that his coach was upset, and one
passenger killed and several badly hurt."

On arriving at the house where Jem Powell had been
picked up, he was taken leave of by the party, our hero
slipping a five-pound note into his hand, as he gave it a
hearty shake ; and the fresh team being put to the coach,
within a minute of the time allowed they were at the hall

3o8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

door of their owner, with scarcely a wet hair on their
ekins, a cool breeze from the north having met them
point-blank for the last five miles. In the course of the
evening, the doings of the morning were talked over,
much in the following strain : —

" Well, Raby," said Hargrave, " we have spent a very
pleasant day. Peyton is the same straightforward good
sort of fellow as he was when we first became acquainted
with him ; and how complete is his establishment in
everything ! "

" There is no better," said Jack Webber, " take it
altogether, and there is a workman at the head of it,
which is everything. As a horseman and a coachman
Peyton has not met his equal. And is not old Jem
capital, with his broad-brimmed hat and copper-coloured
weather-beaten mug and his lingo? No person could
mistake his calling ; and how quaintly, yet to the purpose,
does he express himself on all subjects on which he speaks !
He has been an excellent servant to Costar, and is highly
respected on the road.1 Have you enjoyed yourself to-
day, Edmonston?"

" It would have been impossible not to have done so,"
replied his Lordship. "In the first place, it was one of
the finest mornings I ever saw in my life, and I delight in
a fine spring morning above all things. I always think
that the same animal pleasure which makes the bird sing,
rises sensibly in the heart of man."

" Give me a November morning," interrupted Somerby,
" and music of another sort than the chirping of birds and
bleating of lambs. This is all very well for your pastoral
poets to sing about ; but, as Forrest says, there is no such
melody to the ear of a sportsman, with a good stud of
hunters in his stable, as the clinking of women's pattens
in the Melton streets on a dark night in December."

" Every man to his taste," resumed Lord Edmonston ;
" all these things are very well in their way, if not carried
too far. I see no objection, for example, to a gentleman
driving his own coach, provided he do not lose caste by
transforming himself into a coachman. But, I repeat, the
love of the pursuit does not admit of his going to extremes.
We debase ourselves by imitating servants in the first
place ; and, in the next, by exalting them to something

1 It is to be lamented that there is no print in existence of this
thorough-bred coachman, who was the beau-ideal of his calling.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 309

like an equality with ourselves, we make them conceited,
and, consequently, destroy subordination. And the ex-
ample is often injurious to very young men. I knew
one, very well connected, and with good prospects before
him, who began by affecting the character of a coachman,
and ended by adopting it, to the great mortification of his
family."

" You are hitting me under the bars," said Jack Webber,
with one of his good-humoured smiles.

" Present company are always excepted," replied the
peer ; " besides, you have resumed your place in society,
which, indeed, you can scarcely be said to have lost ; for
I know that, when you took it into your head to turn
coachman, you never forgot that you were a gentleman.
Indeed, I have been told that you were the cause of
working a reformation amongst your brethren of the whip
on the Brighton road."

" As for myself," resumed Jack Webber, " I was never
happier than during the three years I was a coachman,
and I wish the next three years of my life may be as well
and profitably employed. The devil, they say, always
employs an idle man, but I was too busy for him, and he
left me alone. Idleness is the parent of all vice, both in
man and beast ; and, when I had done my day's work, I
was seldom inclined for any mischief. A newspaper, or a
book, with one glass of grog, after my supper, and then
the night-cap, formed my almost daily course."

" But, Frank," said Lord Edmonston, " with these studs
of yours, both for the field and road, when will you be
able to find time to comply with the wishes of your late
uncle and father, and take a tour on the continent ? You
will find good account in it. You need not adopt the
peculiarities of one country or another ; but, rely on it,
travelling is very essential to men who are to live in the
world : it not only enlarges the mind and improves the
understanding, but it frees it from prejudices, which is
a great point gained. In the last page of a diary kept by
my father, when he went the grand tour, is this sentence :
— ' I am truly glad that I have taken the advice of my
father, though sorely against my will, to take this tour.
It has dispelled prejudices, short-sightedness, and caprice,
to which I was previously addicted. With change of
place, I found my ideas were changed, as also my opinions
and feelings ; and, having reflected on much that I saw

310 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

and heard, I returned to my own country a more chari-
table and a better disposed man than I had left it.' "

" I have not made up my mind on this subject," replied
Baby. " It is true, my uncle suggested a tour on the
continent, but perceiving I did not exactly respond to his
suggestion, he no longer pressed it. I have conversed with
several of my friends, senior of course to myself, who
have been abroad for longer or shorter periods, and they
assured me that they all suffered during the first half of
the time from what the French call la maladie du pays,
the result of their regrets for having left their homes and
friends ; and, during the second, from a perpetual long-
ing to return. To those young men who labour under a
sense of weariness and satiety of the good things they
enjoy in England, and who have no active pursuits, a
sojourn abroad may be an agreeable and healthful change ;
but by a person, who, like myself, has a pursuit for every
day in the year — whose wish is to live the life of a country
gentleman and a sportsman, and who has no desire to
breathe the unwholesome and somewhat tainted atmo-
sphere of courts, little advantage is to be gained by it."

CHAPTER XVI

The B.D.C. and B.C.M. Our Sportsman makes a tour, iu which
he visits many of the most celebrated fox-hunting establish-
ments in England.

OUR hero's next move was to London, where he had
apartments taken for him at one of the best hotels,
in the best part of the town, and stabling for twelve
horses in a mews hard by. As may be imagined in so
young a man, he was occasionally to be seen in the streets
and the park with his team, in the latter, indeed, always
on Sundays ; but he generally preferred the public roads,
especially the one on which his education for a coachman
had been completed, that to Windsor and Eton ; and
twice a week, during his sojourn in London, he gave a
dinner to his party at the Castle Inn, Salt Hill, bringing
them back to town in the evening, performing the ground,
with a change at Hounslow, in two hours, to a minute.
Richmond was also another of his favourite rendezvous,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 311

where two or three others of the amateur coachmen of
his day assembled, and where excellent hand-in-the-pocket
dinners were partaken of by the passengers which each
brought down — first-class men in their line, of course.
But, it may be asked, were there no mishaps on the road
from this after-dinner work, with well-bred and highly-
fed cattle (the expressive epithet " spicy," was not then
in the vocabulary) ? Not often. A pole was broken one
night between Brentford and London, by an amateur
working for his amateur friend, and who dropped one of
his reins, although a very good coachman ; and on another,
owing to a bolt on the shoot from off Kew Bridge, a
singular accident occurred. No sooner did the horses
feel the drag press upon them, than they got the better
of their driver, also a first-rate workman, and were only
pulled lip by coming in contact with some iron paling,
enclosing a gentleman's grounds. " A dreadful smash, of
course — a case for the coroner ! " methinka I hear my
reader exclaim. Two horses were killed, it is true, but
the Corinthians escaped, with the exception of one, who
was actually impaled on the iron spikes on which he fell ;
but, hard as Corinthian brass, he was not killed, and in
a few weeks recovered. Then, on another occasion, in
returning from Salt Hill, our hero had a narrow escape,
as had also the party who were on his coach. His horses
got the better of him, and where, reader, would you
suppose they were pulled up ? You would never guess,
so you shall hear at once. — Between the eight horses of tht
down Exeter waggon! Miraculous as it may appear,
neither man nor horse was injured to any serious extent.
The fact was, what are called " the stretchers " — rods
aboiit the thickness of a mop handle, which were attached
to each pair of the waggon-horses, to prevent their lean-
ing toward each other in their work — checked the career
of the horses, as they broke their way through them, and
so far modified the collision between the waggon and the
coach, as to cause no further damage than breaking the
pole of the latter, and hurting two of the horses.

It was during this visit to London that Frank Raby
was elected a member of the B.D.C., at that time held at
the small town of Benson, in Oxfordshire, but afterwards
removed, on account of the distance from London, to the
Black Dog Inn, at Bedfont, a small village fourteen miles
from London, on the Great Western Road, then kept by

312 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

a person named Harvey, famous for his beefsteaks, aa
also for the fish sauce which still bears his name. It was
composed of about thirty members (at least seventy have
been numbered since), including the best and most
experienced amateur coachmen of those days, at the head
of whom was the great John Wall, the father of the field
and the road, as he was even then called in the sporting
world ; and a curious circumstance occurred on the first
day of our hero making his appearance at it. George
IV., then Prince of "Wales, was changing horses at the
door of the inn at which the club dined, and was in-
formed that his health was that moment about to be
drunk by the members, with three times three. The
Prince afterwards acknowledged the compliment to one
of the party, at Carlton House, adding — "Was not old
John Wall among you ?" On being answered in the
affirmative, he replied — " I thought I knew his halloo."
Then there was another well-known and amusing
character, a member of this club. His name was Price.
His scene of action was on the Great Western Road, on
which he worked, as an amateur, nearly as regularly as
any coachman upon it. But it is for this evening's
exploits that his fame is recorded here. After five bottles
of hock, which he could put under his waistcoat, at a
sitting, without being much affected by them, he would
fill a bumper, and, placing the glass to stand on his head,
he would sing a song, in which the names of every coach-
man and horse-keeper employed on a certain coach from
London to Plymouth, were introduced. Nor was this all,
he would, at the same time, go through the manoeuvres
of hitting wheelers and leaders, without spilling a drop
of his wine ; and after he had drunk it off, he would run
the empty glass up and down the large silver buttons of
his coat, with very singular effect. Then the following
anecdote speaks to the prevalence of his ruling passion
for the coach-box. At the time to which we have been
alluding, the French revolution was raging in all its
horrors. The subject being discussed in his presence, he
took a letter from his pocket, and thus addressed those
who were present : — " What's the French revolution to
me 1 Here is Bill Simmons, the first man that ever drove
the Exeter mail out of Exeter, turned over to the heavy
coach, and against his will. Now, that is ichat I call a
revolution ! "

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 313

There was another club formed at this time, of which it
may be imagined our hero was anxious to become a
member, and the character he had acquired in society at
once secured him his election ; for, as Johnson said to
Burke, who recommended a candidate for the Literary
Club as a man of gentle manners — " no more need be said."
The one now alluded to was generally called either the
" Whip Club," or the " Four-in-hand Club," but its real
title was the " Four-horse Club." Their first meeting
was held in April 1808 ; and they assembled, afterwards,
every first and third Thursday in May, and the same
in June, at the house of their president, in Cavendish
Square, whence they drove in procession to Salt Hill, on
the Bath road, where they dined, alternately, at the two
capital inns for which that delightful village has been so
celebrated — one of them, indeed, especially so, as having
been the scene of the destruction of thirteen persons in
one day, from eating mock turtle soup, which had been
left to stand a night in a copper vessel not properly
tinned. Two guineas a head was the price of these
dinners, and the utmost good fellowship prevailed at
them. Neither were themselves only considered ; their
charities to coachmen and guards in distress were largely
dispensed, and they were the chief means of establishing
the " Benevolent Club," which, to this day, is the refuge
of such of that class of persons as are unable to get their
living in their calling — that is to say, such as had the
foresight to enrol their names on its books. In fact,
there was nothing that could be cavilled at in the
proceedings of this club, unless it might be the somewhat
unnecessary parade of the procession, which generally
contained at least a dozen teams, each bond fide member
having an honorary member on his box. Not much,
however, could be said against this ; it afforded a splendid
spectacle on a fine June morning, each member vicing
with his neighbour in the elegance and propriety of his
turn-out ; and it may in truth be said, that neither before
nor since has its equal been seen in any country in the
world, for the excellent workmanship of the carriages and
harness, and the superior class of horses that were attached
to them.

As may be supposed, all eyes — at least all those of the
members of the Four-horse Club — were upon Frank Raby
and his team, aa he entered the square on the first

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

morning of his appearance ; neither were they, in any
respect, disappointed. His coach was new for the
occasion ; his harness — patent leather for pads and
winches was not then known — as clean and as shining as
Lord Sal ton's coachman's blacking could make it ; an
extra pound of soap had been used that morning on the
horses ; and, by way of a finish, the manly and handsome
person of the owner, becomingly dressed for the occasion,
and with a well-selected bouquet in his breast, produced
the coup. By his side sat his friend Hargrave, elected an
honorary member of the club ; and his team — the picking
of his stable, of course, having the black piebald oft' leader
— was pronounced all-sufficient and business-like, although,
as might have been expected, not first-rate ; the premier-
ship having been awarded to that of Sir John Inkleton,
which time and better judgment had rendered perfect.
But having mentioned his blacking, we must not pass
over the crack team of those times — that of the Earl of
Salton, who, although not a member of the club, generally
was on the look-out for the procession, and being, by the
superiority of his cattle, able to give any of the members
the go-by when he pleased, would occasionally amuse
himself by so doing.

It may be gathered, by what has been said of him,
that Lord Edmonston — although a young nobleman of
a highly honourably character, uniting prudence with
liberality to a degree not often experienced at his period
of life, and, as may also be recollected, not only a kind
friend, but an affectionate and serviceable monitor to our
hero in the hour of need, although he was at that time
little known to his Lordship — was neither a practical
coachman nor sportsman — beyond driving his own curricle,
in the one case, and joining the hounds of his neighbour-
hood, in the other ; not so much, perhaps, from the love
of hunting, which he did not profess to understand, as
for the exercise and society which the noble pursuit
afforded him. At a dinner, then, given by Sir John
Inkleton, a day or two after one of the processions of the
Four-in-hand Club had taken place, and at which, by the
introduction of Frank Raby, his Lordship was one of the
guests, the conversation having turned upon the doings
of this very celebrated club, he was thus heard to speak of
it:—

" It may be all very well," said his Lordship, " for

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 315

gentlemen to drive their own carriages, wheresoever and
whensoever they like ; but it strikes me that there is too
much system in the proceedings of the Four-horse Club.
There is, likewise, in the dress of the members, too great
a desire to imitate the public coachmen, to the detriment
of their own caste, as well as of their personal appearance.
I rather give the preference to the Benson Club, inasmuch
as the gratification arising from the pursuit is equally
enjoyed by the members, but in a quieter way, and
stripped of all display."

"There is some justice in your remarks," observed Sir
John Inkleton ; " still, I am disposed to believe that
much more of good than of harm has been the result of
both of those clubs. That great improvement has taken
place in coach travelling during the last few years — a
point of immense importance to a commercial country,
which England is — in its various branches and depart-
ments, no one will feel disposed to deny ; and coach
proprietors are entitled to their meed of praise for their
exertions in aiding the good cause. I am, however, bold
enough to assert that not the least, if not the principal
efficient cause has been, the great interest taken in all that
concerns what is called the road, by men of fortune and
judgment. Men of mathematical and classical education,
indeed, of refined manners, and possessing humane
feelings, have made the working of a coach, drawn by
four horses, their study, as well as their amusement ; and
although grave old codgers have laughed at them, editors
of newspapers pitied them, and fine ladies felt shocked at
them, the public have reason to thank them, travellers to
pray for them, and the noblest of the brute creation, had
they the faculty of speech, might pour out their gratitude
for the benefits they have received at their hands. In the
first place, they pointed out the cruelty of enforcing, in
the low-bred horse, the speed and powers peculiar only to
those possessing a certain portion of high blood. Secondly,
harness, if ill-constructed, independently of being unsafe,
is more tormentingly punishing to horses than all the
whipping that can be applied to them. The members of
these clubs improved this in many particulars, of which,
without practical experience of the defects, they never could
have been judges, and of which, in too many instances,
coach proprietors and their servants were too careless or
too ignorant to be informed. In short, to the amateur

3i6 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

coachmen of England Englishmen are greatly indebted.
To them we owe the improved manners as well as morals
of modern road coachmen, amongst whom they have
excited a wholesome spirit of emulation, a creditable
style of dress and address, as well as honest pride in the
condition of their horses, cleanliness of their harness, and
so forth. Coach travelling is, as it were, metamorphosed
into something approaching to luxury, from a tedious and
disgusting labour ; and a modern stage-coach is become a
beautiful object on our roads, in the place of an unwieldy
machine, at variance with mathematical principles. There
is an increase of speed with a diminution of danger — a
great point gained, and to the accomplishment of which
the improvement in axle-trees and wheels has most
materially tended. 'Dry wheels make wet horses,' is a
proverb on the road ; and independently of the safety of
the patent box, in which the arm of the axle-tree rests,
the lubrication of it by the constant flow of oil, by
reducing friction, is nearly equal to half a horse's
draught. I am quite sure, then, that it adds much to the
pleasure of the members of those clubs, and to other
amateurs of the coach-box, to reflect that, whilst driving
their own fine and well-appointed teams, they are affording
instruction and example to their humbler and hard-
working fellow-creatures, as well as performing a patriotic
and public good ; and as for the too common but erroneous
opinion amongst certain classes of society, that a man
cannot frequent a public coach-box without being morbidly
infected in manners and good taste, by coming in contact
with one very much his inferior, the notion is too absurd
for even a comment. Did the learned Dr. Paley suffer,
either in his manners or his morals, by conversing, as was
his custom, with every artificer he could get hold of in his
walks 1 No, the case is quite otherwise ; and those public
coachmen who have come most in contact with amateurs
in their line, are uniformly improved by so doing ; — they
are better coachmen and better men. You hear from
them no ill language, no gross and offensive expressions
— to the female ear especially ; and what is of still more
importance, you are not disgusted by insolence to the
inferior class of passengers on their coaches ; neither are
your feelings outraged by unnecessary cruelty to the
animals placed under their control, and, by consequence,
at their mercy. I was gratified, indeed, by an answer

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 317

strongly corroborative of what I have asserted, which I
lately received from one of them to my remark, that a
leader in his team trotted along before the bars, doing
little beyond carrying her harness. ' She cannot work,
Sir John,' said her coachman ; ' there is nothing left in
her but a good heart, and I do not like to whip that out
of her.' I made no reply ; but I silently put up a prayer,
that neither the head nor the heart of that man might
ache on this side of eternity, and that the humane
expression would be found booked to his credit on the
other."

" You have advocated your cause ably," said Goodall ;
" and although no coachman myself, I can neither discern
folly, nor anything approaching to impropriety, in gentle-
men driving their own coaches, and entering scientifically
into the pursuit, as others do by that of the turf. All
that I have read on the subject upholds them. If the
Athenians, for example, the most polished nation of all
antiquity, deemed it a feather in their caps to be esteemed
skilful charioteers, why should Englishmen consider it a
disgrace ? Does not Homer make nis Nestor the wisest
man and the best coachman of his day ? Does he not
make Priam put, with his own hands, his own horses to the
car in which himself and the herald demand the body of
Hector ? Is he not blamed, indeed, for dwelling upon
the description of Juno's chariot, whilst his reader
expects him to lead him into the thickest of the
battle 1—

1 For why should Homer deck the gorgeous car,
When our raised souls are eager for the war!
Or dwell on every wheel, when loud alarms,
And Mars, in thunder, call the hosts to arms ? '

But is he not so minutely faithful to this part of his
subject, that, at the funeral games of Patroclus, he re-
presents Menelaus borrowing one of the horses of
Agamemnon (.Ethe, by name, I think) to put to his
chariot with his own ? Has not the sublimest poet that
ever dipped pen into ink immortalized the coachman
in song1? Allow me, then, to propose that we drink
a bumper to ' Success to the Road ! — and to all who
patronise and support it.'"

" With all my heart," said the host.

" And with all mine," said Mr. Warburton, uncle to the

3i8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

host, and who was one of the party. " In my younger
days I was always an inside passenger whenever I chanced
to travel by a stage-coach ; but now I pay extra for the
box-place, or a front seat on the roof, for the purpose of
hearing the shrewd and often witty remarks of the
coachman to those whom he has occasion to address, either
in his calling or otherwise. But a friend of mine thus
accounts for this shrewdness, as well as quickness and
suitableness of reply : — ' It is the pace that does it,' said he
— ' the increased pace at which they travel, and quickness
of their changes of horses on the road, which are every
day becoming more extraordinary. Philosophers tell us,'
added he, ' that wit consists in quickly assembling our
ideas, and putting them together in an instant.'1 Now, as
analogy is but the resemblance between things, with
regard to circumstances or effects, may there not be
something akin to analogy betwixt putting ideas together
quickly, and taking one set of horses from, and putting
another set to a coach in little more than sixty seconds of
time ? Certainly, as far as my experience has gone, the
faster the coach, the more sharp and ready has been its
coachman with all his remarks and replies, and compress-
ing what they have to say in as small a space as possible ;
and I witnessed, a short time back, one very laughable
instance of it. At the first change out of London, after
the coach had stopped, perhaps three-fourths of a minute,
a passenger put his head out of the window, and asked
the coachman if he could have some breakfast. ' Yes, sir,'
he replied (he was at that moment in the act of gathering
the reins into his hand, the fresh horses having been put
to the coach), ' if you can eat it whilst I can count twenty ' ;
and, springing on to his box, he was off, leaving his
passenger to his meditations."

It was in the course of this summer that our hero first
attended the renowned Bibury race-meeting, then in the
zenith of its glory, and he was elected one of its members
nemine contradicente. In fact, he was exactly the sort of
person calculated for it. In the first place, there was no
lack of means ; in the next, he had purchased a horse in
training, said to be likely to win what is called the
" Welter Stakes," the best of the meeting, and so called
because the weight carried was thirteen stone for all ages.
And he had a twofold object in view, with respect to this
horse. If he did not win the stakes, he was convinced he

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 319

would make him a capital hunter, from his great power
and size. But who was to be his jockey ? "I will ride
him myself," said he ; "I can ride the weight on a light
saddle."

" Surely not," observed Hargrave ; " you never rode a
race in your life ; and you are aware that you will have to
contend against all the best gentlemen jockeys of the day."

" There must be a beginning to everything," replied
Frank Raby, "as well as an end. It is true I have never
ridden a race, but I have seen many ridden, and heard
the instructions given to the jockeys, who tried my two
Oaks fillies twice, in private ; and also when they came
to the post. I know pretty well what a horse can do
under such a weight as mine."

" And have you backed your horse to win ? " resumed
Hargrave.

" Only to a small amount," replied Raby — "just enough
to give me an additional interest in the race. I have
taken 200 to 20 against him from O'Hara the ' leg,' whom
you see there on the grey horse, with winkers to his bridle."

It was at this period that George IV., when Prince of
Wales, was a constant attendant of Bibury race-course,
being domiciled for the week at the Earl of Sherborne's,
whose mansion and park are about four miles distant
from the course — a beautiful grass drive leading from one
to the other. As his Royal Highness had a horse in the
stakes, he was anxious to see his competitors, and at
length cast his eye upon Nameless, which was the name of
our hero's nag.

" What horse is that ?" demanded the Prince.

" Nameless, by King Fergus, out of Mary, by Herod,"
was the answer.

" He is a fine horse," continued the Prince ; " who rides
him ? "

" His owner, Mr. Raby, our new member, sir," said
Colonel Leigh.

" Oh," said the Prince smilingly ; " we have not much
to fear from him ; he is a fine young man, and, I hear,
very good across a country, for his years, but, if it comes
to a race, he will have a poor chance against Lord Solville,
and half a dozen of the old hands that are here to-day."

We will, however, repeat the communication between
our hero and his trainer, an hour before the race, and then,
give the result.

320 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" Now, sir, if you please," said bis trainer, " the bell
has rung for saddling, and you will soon be at work.
Excuse my saying a word or two to you before starting,
as it will be too late afterwards. Your horse is well, and
that is a great point, and I think he will run a good horse.
But pray don't be in too big a hurry to get home, which
is the great fault of all young race-riders. Your horse
will be in a hurry, for he is a free goer in his work ; but
you have strength enough to keep him back. But mind
this, above all things— don't lie out of your ground, but
get away with the front horses, and keep with them as
long as you can, and head them at last, if you are able. I
do not think you can win ; nevertheless, do not throw
away a chance. Take three good pulls at your horse, the
last within a distance of home, and if this plan will not
enable you to win, it will be your horse's fault, and not
your own. Now, let me give you a leg ; and when I
have mounted my hack, you shall give your horse a gallop
with me, to let him feel his legs. It need not be a long
one, for thirteen stone is a cruel weight on a race-horse."

" It is so," replied Eaby ; " but I approve of the
principle; it encourages the breeding of powerful
thorough-bred horses, which at present are very scarce.
I was at Newmarket in the Craven meeting, and I did
not see half a dozen horses in training, equal to my
weight over a country."

Now then for the race. Fourteen horses came to the
post, and, after one false start^ all got away except one,
who reared and fell back upon his rider, but without
materially injuring him. Our hero, upon Nameless, got
a good place in the ruck, which he kept three parts of the
way, riding strictly to orders. In fact, he looked very
much like a winner half a mile from home, his hands
being quietly down, and the fourth out of six that were
in front, with all the rest beaten off.

"Nameless is winning," roars O'Hara ; "bv the powers
but I shall lose my £200 ! "

But Nameless did not win. His rider let him loose too
soon, and, forgetting the advice of his trainer, to give him
the third pull, was beaten a clear length by the two leading
horses, who contested the race to a head — the Prince's
horse Manning by the admirable jockevship of Lord
Solville,

And now for the scene at the scales.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 32*

" You made but one mistake, sir," said his trainer ;
'• and that was a fatal one. Had you recollected what I
told you, and pulled back, or, I should rather say, eased,
1 your'horse a little within 200 yards from home, you could
not have lost the race. Depend on it, you have the best
horse of the field, but you were beaten by being outridden
'•y my Lord and Mr. Burrell, as I feared you would be,
if it came to a race, which it did. I never saw finer riding
at Newmarket than what my Lord showed us to-day. He
took a pull at his horse not a hundred yards from home,
and won his race by so doing, for the other horse had the
best of it up to that time. Only think what a thing a
pull must be to a horse at the end of two miles, with
thirteen stone on his back, and in such a fast-run race
as this ! "

"I certainly lost the race," replied our hero, "by
omitting the pull within the distance, according to your
directions ; but the fact was, my horse appeared to me to
be running over his horses, pulling so very hard, that,
thinking I had the race in hand, I was unwilling to pull
him back, from fear of putting him out of his stroke, or
causing him to change his leg."

" Well, sir," resumed the trainer, " the mischief is done
now, and it cannot be undone. I told you, your horse
was well, and that he would run a good horse ; but mind
this in future — do not only not forget the pull at the
proper time and place, but likewise that some horses pull
hardest when they are most beaten. Your horse, how-
ever, was not beaten ; all he wanted was a moment's ease,
when he would have come again, and headed his horses in
style."

It is in the nature of emulation to know no bounds.
Our hero was by no means satisfied with his own per-
formance ; and excited a little by the remarks of some of
the party with whom he dined after the race, that his
horse could have won the Welter if he had had a better
jockey on his back, resolved on attempting to redeem his
credit. Sending for his trainer, then, he thus addressed
him : —

" I should like to run the race over again whicli I lost
to-day ; I think I can beat both those horses by a different
system of riding. I wish you would see the trainer of
each as soon as possible, and propose a match — same
weight and distance — for 500 guineas a side. Try the

21

322 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Prince's man first, and, if he decline, make the same
proposal to the trainer of the second horse."

" I must obey your orders, of course, sir," replied the
trainer, " but allow me first to ask you how you mean to
ride your horse, should your offer be accepted ? "

" I mean to make running from end to end, and not to
wait, as I did before," answered our young sportsman ;
" I am convinced that my horse was the stoutest in the
race yesterday, and that, if I had made strong running
with him from the post, I should have cut down my
competitors."

" Well, sir," replied the trainer, " I will go and see
what I can do to forward your wishes, but I think it my
duty to tell you that, for a young jockey, you are about
to undertake "

" We will talk about your duty, &c., at another time,"
said Raby ; " go directly and see the trainers, as they soon
will be in bed. Send for me out of the club-room, and
tell me what they say."

In less than half an hour, the following result was
conveyed to him : —

" I have seen both trainers, Mr. Raby," said Mr. Lilly,
for that was the name of the artist who brought Xameless
to the post. "The Prince's man declines, as his horse
has a heavy match over his head ; but Bliss says, he
doubts not but that Mr. Portmore will accept your
challenge, and that you shall have his answer in the
morning. But, sir," continued Lilly, " had you not
better consider further before "

" No time for considering now," said our hero ; " I must
return to my party, and will see you in the morning."

As our hero sat at his breakfast, in company with his
friends Inkleton, Hargrave, and Goodall, the following
note was brought him : —

" SIR, — My trainer informs me that you propose a
match bet\veen Xameless and Antonio, same weights and
distance, as likewise riders, as for the Welter yesterday,
for 500 guineas, p. p. I admire your spirit in making
this offer, after the event of yesterday, but, being an older
man than yourself, and somewhat more experienced,
perhaps, in racing affairs, I think it only fair to say that
I ought to give you three pounds. On these conditions,
my horse shall be at the post on Thursday, after the last

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 323

race of the day. — Your early answer will oblige, yours
faithfully, &c.,

" A. PORTMORE.
"To FRANCIS RABT, Esq."

" Well," exclaimed Sir John Inkleton, " Portmore acts,
as he always acts, the part of an honourable man."

" The three pounds may give you the race," exclaimed
Hargrave ; " but don't forget the pull."

" I will back you for a pound or two," said Goodall,
"although I know so little of racing as to be almost
incredulous as to three pounds being an advantage worth
speaking about in such a weight as you propose to carry."

" My good fellow," said Fairfax, who entered the room
at that moment, " the key of the stable-door once lost the
trial between two of the first race-horses of the day."

" An old woman's story," exclaimed our hero ; " but
(pulling the bell hastily at the moment) I'll have none of
his three pounds. I'll run the match at evens, and lay
another £500 I win it."

On the waiter appearing with some letter-paper, and
being ordered to send immediately for Lilly, the following
answer was penned, and as instantly despatched to Mr.
Portmore : —

" DEAR SIR, — I feel, as I ought to feel, the handsome
conditions on which you offer to accept my challenge to
run Antonio against Nameless, on Thursday, same weight,
&c. &c., as in the Welter stakes ; but so satisfied am I
that, as far as concerned my horse, it was yesterday, from
end to end, a false run race, that I am unwilling to alter
the terms proposed by me. Should I be beaten, myself
alone will be to blame ; and it may act as a salutary
lesson to me through life, not to persist in my own opinion
contrary to that of those who are more experienced than
myself. I herewith send you the articles of the match,
signed on my part, and on your signature being attached,
my horse shall be at the post on the day, and at the time
stated in your letter. — Believe me, dear Sir, faithfully
and obliged,

" FRANCIS KABY.

"To the HON. A. PORTMORE," &c. &c.

Within another half-hour, the parties met in the street,
and our hero was informed by his antagonist that the

324 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

articles of the match were signed, and . already in the
hands of the steward ; and in ten minutes more, the
following conversation took place between the owner of
Nameless and his trainer : —

" Well, sir," said Mr, Lilly, " I find yon have made
your match, and I wish we may pull through. I find
you will not have the three pounds. I think, sir, you
should have taken it. Never throw away a chance in
racing. Three pounds at such high weight, to be sure, is
not much to get, but it is something. They are betting
six to four against us in the town, and I daresay it will
be seven."

" So much the better," replied Raby, " as I may be able
to hedge some of my money, if I alter my opinion of the
event by to-morrow — not that I think it likely I shall do
so. But what is it, Lilly, that you consider your duty to
tell me, respecting the match ? "

" Why, sir," replied Lilly, " if I understand you right,
you are going to perform almost the most difficult act a
jockey is called upon to perform. Nothing, next to the
struggle of the few last yards between two horses very
nearly equal — which we call the set-to — is so difficult in
racing horsemanship as making running by a jockey,
solely for the benefit of the horse he himself is riding.
In other words, it requires the experience of some years
in a jockey to be a good judge of pace, that is, of not
merely the pace he himself is going, but how that pace
affects other horses in the race. And this task is more
difficult with some horses than with others, and especially
— though this will not be your case — with idle or lurching
horses, which, when leading, require nrging by the hand
or the leg every yard they go. In this case, the jockey
works hard to keep his horse going. He has to use his
hands, arms, legs, and feet, and occasionally to turn his
head round, with all his limbs in action at one and the
same moment, and yet not disturb his horse's action ; and
all this in addition to great anxiety of mind lest he should
upset his horse, and so lose the race. I have heard Frank
Buckle say, at Newmarket, that he never knows what it
is to be miserable except when he has to make running
over the Beacon course, with Sam Chifney and William
Clift behind him."

We will now bring our hero to the post, having profited
by the sensible remarks of his trainer so far as to make

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 325

him aware that he had taken upon himself a hazardous
task ; but feeling convinced in his own mind that he lost
the Welter by not making running, he was now resolved
to do so, it being his only chance to win.

"Is your book full, sir?" said one of the betting;
fraternity to him, as he was about to mount his horse.

" I have no book on the occasion," was the answer ; "I
have not a shilling on the event, except the 500 on the
match/'

" I'll bet you 6 to 4 against your horse, sir — 120 to 80-
if you please, sir," resumed the leg.

" No" answered Raby, in somewhat of a surly tone, and
he was immediately lifted into his saddle. As he rode
quietly out of the crowd, towards an open part of the
course, on which he could give his horse a gallop, he was
thus addressed by his trainer : —

"Now, sir, it will be a great event in your life if you
can beat this crack horse with so good a jockey as Mr.
Burrell on his back. All I can say of your horse is, he-
is well — better, I think, than he was on Tuesday ; and I
question whether Antonio has quite forgotten Tuesday's
race. Then you will have an advantage to-day, if you
mean to make running, which you had not on Tuesday-
You will be able to make your turns — and there are
plenty of them on this course — without losing ground,,
which you did on Tuesday among the crowd. But pray,,
sir, don't forget the pull a short distance from home. I
have backed you for a hundred."

" No fear of that," replied our hero ; " but if it conies
to a very near thing at the last, should I use my whip, or
only spur my horse ? "

" Why, sir," said Lilly, " all good jockeys avoid the use
of the whip as much as possible. When a race-horse is in
the fullest exercise of his powers, and doing his best, it
is unnecessary, for it cannot make him do more ; but a
severe blow from a whip often does harm, particularly if
it falls under the flank, which is a very tender place, on
account of the thinness of the skin. Instead of its having
the effect of making a horse extend himself over a large
surface of ground, it may have quite a contrary effect,
from his ' shutting himself up,' as we call it, or shrinking
to avoid the blows. The spur, properly used, is a much
better instrument for increasing the speed of a horse,
although there are times when the application of the whip..

326 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

or the mere act of flourishing it in the hand, is eminently
serviceable to a jockey — I mean, in case his horse swerves
to one side of the course or the other, or towards other
horses in the race, or exhibits symptoms of running out,
or bolting. To be sure, a jockey ought to be able to use
his whip with vigour when necessary, and, like Sam
Chifney, with his left hand, as well as with his right, in
case of his losing what is called the whip hand, when he
cannot use it at all with his right. I would, however,
recommend you, sir, not to use your whip at all. Yours
is a free-going horse ; he will run his own race ; all you
have to do will be to take care not to upset him ; and, if
it comes to a struggle at the last, try what the spur will
do. I tell all young jockeys, especially, that they may do
more harm by letting go one hand from the bridle, to use
the whip, than the whip does good. Hold your horse hard
by the head to the last ; shake him by the head to rouse
him, if it comes to a near thing, and give him a few digs
with your spurs."

The crowd at the starting-post evinced the interest
which this race created, and several opinions were ex-
pressed.

" The young one is a bold man," said the Prince, " to
attempt to tackle George Burrell, and on a beaten horse."

" And to refuse the three pounds ! " exclaimed a by-
stander.

" Bring the young one in handsomely, George," said a
third.

" They are off ! Ha ! ha ! " exclaimed an old hand on
the turf ; " the voung one means to make short work of
it."

" A short life and a merry one," said another, who had
laid 7 to 4 against him in fifties.

" Don't be too sure of that," exclaimed Lilly ; " the
blood of King Fergus and Herod is no bad cross."

" If he can live that pace home," said one who had
taken the odds, " he will do : the young one seems to know
what he is about."

In the form in which they started — the young one taking
the lead, followed very closely by Mr. Burrell — did they
continue this most interesting and, strange to say, heavy
betting race for the first mile and a half, our hero being
observed to keep a steady pull upon his horse, without
the least appearance of having upset him by the severe

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 327

play he had made, looking back at his opponent, when a
good opportunity presented itself, after the manner of an
experienced jockey, and sitting as tight and steady on his
saddle as though he and his horse were one. At the last
turn of the course, a good half-mile from home, alarm
became apparent in those who had backed him to lose,
and exclamations such as these were heard : —

' The young one's hands are down" says one.

' Yes, and quiet," observes another.

' I'll bet an even hundred on the young one," roars
O'Hara.

' Done with you," says Lord Marley.

' I'll bet 6 to 4 on the young one," roars Nightingale,
with a small telescope to his eye ; no one answered.

" It's all over but shouting," exclaims Lilly ; " Antonio's
as dead as a hammer."

Now, then, for the result. The trainer's figure of speech
was not carried out to the letter. Antonio was not dead,
but only dead beat. In fact, he was beaten in the first
mile, and our hero came in a clear length in front, and
without stirring a hand, still less a foot. The congratula-
tions of his friends were boundless, as he approached the
scales to weigh, and his trainer, Mr. Lilly, seemed as happy
as if he had won the Derby.

" This will do," said he to a friend, as he led Nameless
from the scales ; " we shall have this young one another time.
But upon my soul he has surprised me ; he seems to want
no teaching. How like an old one he talks, and how well
he rode this race ! "

And what said the renowned George Burrell, nearly the
best of the Bibury jockeys ?

" The Prince was in luck," said he, " to win the Welter,
with a better horse in the race. Had it been run as this
has been run, Nameless would have been a length before
us all, and hard held too. He is an extraordinary horse,
you may depend upon it. Try and buy him," said he, in
a whisper, to a friend who was by his side ; "he will win
the Welter next year, to a certainty. I could not more
than live with him the first mile and a half, and as to
heading him afterwards, that was out of the question.
And he was not badly ridden."

" Bravo, Frank ! " exclaimed Hargrave ; " you won your
race in style. Pity is it that you cannot ride lighter, for
you would make a capital jockey in a very short time."

328 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" Who \vould have thought it 1 " grumbled OTTara ;
" bad luck to the garran that I backed ! "

" Garran ! " exclaimed Lord Marley ; " Nameless is the
best horse of the year at this weight. I -wish he were
mine."

" I beg your pardon, Mr. Eaby," said Colonel Leigh,
approaching our hero, as he walked away from the weigh-
ing-stand ; " the Prince wishes to know whether you are
disposed to part with your horse, and, if so, you will be
pleased to name your price."

" Present my duty to the Prince, sir," replied Raby,
" and please to tell his Royal Highness Nameless is not for
sale. I intend to make a hunter of him."

" What 1 " exclaimed Fairfax, who Avas at his elbow,
" make a hunter of a horse that could have won one of the
best stakes in England this year, and is nearly certain of
winning it next ! "

" He shall never have another plate on his foot," resumed
our hero ; "but I hope to see many a good fox killed, on
his back."

It is written of Alcibiades, the Athenian general, that
he gave an entertainment to all the spectators who wit-
nessed the success of his horses in winning the three grand
prizes on the Olympic race-course — a snug little party, if
we are to credit the accounts given of the multitudes
assembled on such occasions. In humble imitation of so
memorable an example, our hero gave a dinner, on the
evening of his victory over Antonio, at the Bull Inn, in
Burford, to a large party of his acquaintances, at which,
in newspaper phraseology, " the utmost conviviality pre-
vailed to a very late hour ; " not only, indeed, until the
cock crowed on his perch, but until the sun peeped through
the blood-red curtains of the bay-windowed banqueting-
room of the said Bull Inn. Champagne at a guinea a
bottle, and claret at fifteen shillings — the prices charged
to some old, and to all young, gentlemen of those days, at
race times especially — flowed like water from the limpid
stream ; and devilled turkey and bishop, after the Christ-
church fashion, formed the topping-up of the feast. In
short, there was nothing wanted but another Euripides to
celebrate the day by an ode.

And what were the topics of the evening ? Racing,
and nothing else, merely occasionally interrupted by a
casual remark on some particular toast. And what the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 329.

pith of the discussion ? Why, that racing was very
amusing to those who merely witnessed it, but, to those-
who engaged in its mysteries, the most uncertain, generally
unsatisfactory, and expensive pursuit that a gentleman,
can possibly enter into. The only exception to this opinion
was Fairfax (a hundred thousand pounds the worse now,.
by-the-bye, in expectation, by his father's proceedings otv
the turf, as already mentioned' in these pages), Avho declared
that he thought every man who possessed money, and ai
good head for calculation, must make money by racing.
" Then the breeding of race-horses," added he, " what an
interesting pursuit is that ! "

" Interesting, indeed," said Sir John Inkleton ; "but I
believe the calculation is a hundred and fifty per cent,
loss on all thorough-bred stock, as far as their own,
intrinsic value is concerned. What they may do wheit
in training is another point, unconnected with the breed-
ing of them ; but I believe the calculation is not more
than one winner in twenty that come to the post, after
all charges are paid. I attended a sale of racing colts
a short time back. The two-year colts and fillies averaged
ninety-three pounds ; the yearlings fifty-seven. Not one'
of the lot was bred and reared for these several sums.
And now, Frank," resumed Sir John, "you know you were
once nicely diddled by a trainer ; are you certain all has
been right throughout with Mr. Lilly and Nameless ? "

" I have no reason to think otherwise," replied Frank.

" But why did he tell you to wait on your horses in the
Welter race," continued the Baronet, " when you found
out, by experience of your horse in only one race, that
stoutness, and not speed, was the best, and that, had
you made running, and not waited, you would have won,
and cleverly too."

" He must be a fool," observed our hero.

" Xo fool," resumed Sir John ; " his remarks to you
on the second day, when he had backed your horse heavily
to win, disproves that charge."

" Then he is a rogue," said Eaby.

" I do not go that length," said Sir John ; " but it has
an awkward appearance, and a burnt child always dreads
the fire."

"Well," resumed our hero, "whether fool or rogue,
concerns me but little. Before this time to-morrow his
bill will be discharged, Nameless will be on the road to-

330 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

Farndon, and my racing career will be at an end. In the
first place, I do not understand the system, and I have
reason to believe it would cost me a very large sum to learn
it. In the next, one pursuit of this nature is as much as
any man, situated as I am situated, ought to have on his
hands at one time ; in my opinion, between hunting and
racing there is no difficulty in the choice. In the one,
•every man you meet with is your friend — in the other, your
foe ; which a rival either for fame or money must more or
less be considered to be. Besides, I am very partial to my
•coach-box, as well as to the humble but satisfactory
pleasures arising from a country life ; and, what is
more, one day or another I hope to be a master of fox-
hounds. I confess I should like to see myself the winner
of a Derby, an Oaks, or a St. Leger, because I am of
opinion that when once a man enters upon any pursuit,
he should not stop until he have exhibited some mark
of distinctive excellence ; but the odds against my
accomplishing either of these hazardous and difficult
undertakings are very great indeed. Then again, I
think my father is averse to my being on the turf : he
often makes his boast that, with the exception of a
nomination to a cup at the county races, the name of
Raby has never been associated with any gambling
•speculation whatsoever ; and, although you are all aware
that I am now independent of him, and must succeed to
his estates, should I survive him, I should violate my
feelings by doing anything that he greatly dislikes."

" Bravo ! " said Sir John. " Bravo ! " cried Hargrave.
•"Fox-hunting and the coach-box against all the racing
in the world ! " resumed the former. " Fox-hunting for
•ever !" exclaimed Hargrave ; "and I vote that we drink
it in a bumper." The bumper was drunk, and the room
rang with applause.

On the following day, this meeting closed with six well-
contested races for stakes amounting, in the whole, to
£1100, which, when looking back to the parent meeting
at Burford, when the horses of the Dukes of Marlborough
and Beaufort, Earls Abingdon and Ossory, Lords Ched-
worth and Oxford, Messrs. Yernon, Dutton, Pigot, and
Foley, all of high blood, and names renowned on the
turf, were contending, at heats, for a fifty-pound plate,
shows what rapid strides racing has made within the last
.seventy years, and also how much the value of money has

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 331

diminished — at all events, the estimation of it lessened
by that description of persons. But nothing in the shape
of a race-meeting could have been more delightful than
Bibury was at the time in which our hero became a
member of the club, composed, as it was, of the first
sporting aristocracy of the day, with the heir-apparent to
the crown at the head of them, on his cropped roan hack,
with merely a pad groom behind him, with his surtout
strapped to his back, and discoursing with his associates in
all the affability of a private gentleman. And a striking
instance of this occurred, as regarded the hero of our tale.

" Introduce Mr. Raby to me," said his Royal Highness
to Lord Solville, as he saw him approaching him on the
course ; " he is a fine young man, and I am glad that you
have got him into the club."

The introduction took place on the spot, and the Prince
thus expressed himself, in his usual elegantly familiar
style, upon this occasion : J —

" Well, Mr. Raby, you have made your debut very much
to your satisfaction, and I must tell you, to mine. In the
first place, I am glad that you have become a member of
Bibury ; and, in the next, your trainer gave me the Welter
by a false estimate of your horse. You would have beaten
me if you had not waited on your horses. However, a
jockey should obey orders, you know, Mr. Raby, unless
he finds a very good reason for disregarding them. Lilly
is a clever fellow, but he certainly made a mistake, which
you have great credit for correcting, and entirely on your
own judgment. You will be a match for us all in a very
short time. And how is your excellent mother ? I knew
Lady Charlotte Raby well, in early days, and once danced
a minuet with her. Pray tell her I inquired after her."

" You do her great honour, sir," replied Raby ; " I shall
carefully obey your Royal Highness's commands."

" So you are going to make a .hunter of Nameless,"
continued the Prince.

" I am, sir," answered our hero.

"And a good hunter he will make," said the Prince,
" with so good a horseman on his back."

Our hero bowed, and the Prince moved on.

1 There is every reason to believe that the week passed by the
Prince, during Bibury meeting, when he felt himself thoroughly
divested of the shackles of state and royalty, was to him the
pleasantest of the whole year.

332 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

But a word or two of Lord Solville, who was, as has
been stated, at the Prince's side at the moment. The
Prince had a horse called Ploughater, that was a most diffi-
cult horse to ride. He was not only a determined hard
puller in his races, but went very much on his shoulders,
with his nose nearly sweeping the ground. It is need-
less to observe that a horse of this description required
a vast deal of riding ; and it was said at the time
that no member of the club, but Lord Solville, could
ride him as he ought to be ridden, and hitherto he had
never lost a race upon him. On the third day of this
meeting, however, his Lordship rode him to his cost. So-
great was his exertion in pulling him together, in rather
a sharply contested race, that no sooner had he dismounted
from his back, than a blood-vessel burst within him.
Medical aid was resorted to, and on the next day but one
his Lordship appeared on the course, on his hack, with a
countenance pale and wan, indicative of the loss he had
sustained. But mark the pluck of the man ! Ploughater
was to walk over for a stake, and his Lordship mounted
him for the purpose, despite of the remonstrance of his
owner. As it happened, no ill consequences were the
result. His Lordship rode as usual at the forthcoming
meeting at Bibury, and in a style seldom excelled by the
best professional jockeys of the day, and, with a ducal
coronet over his head, is now alive and heart-whole, and
as good a specimen of an English Duke as England
could wish to see. His brother, the Hon. George German,
second only to him in the gentleman's racing-saddle, has
paid the debt of Nature ; but many of what may be called
the bond fide gentlemen jockeys of those days are now alive
and well.1

On our hero's arrival in London, he found the following
letter from his father : —

1 The gentlemen jockeys of that day underwent all the priva-
tions and discipline of those who get their living by riding races ;
and it has been observed, that the greater part of them have
preserved their health and vigour to an extraordinary degree.
The preparation for riding races, however, if not carried to too
great an extent, is allowed to be most salutary, and there is a
passage in Xenophon's Cyrop?edia, in corroboration of this fact.
Cyrus never suffered his men to go to their meals, not having been
sweated. This, it appears, was effected either by taking them out
a-huuting, or by inventing such sports as would surely cause them
to sweat.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 333

" MY DEAR FRASK, — You are aware that it was the
earnest desire of your late uncle, and it is likewise mine,
that you should occupy a seat in the senate. It will be an
admirable introduction into good society, and give you
an importance in your own eyes and in those of others, to
which, by circumstances, you are entitled. I have reason
to believe a very small sum will secure you a seat for the
borough of Riply, and I am willing to find the needful.
Let me request, then, that you will immediately proceed
thither, and my friend Sir Richard Hartley will propose
you to the electors, as well as arrange everything that
may be necessary towards securing your return for the
borough. Observe, it is not quite a close borough ; but I
understand there will be no opposition to anyone put
in nomination by Sir Richard. We are all well here. I
have heard of your success at Bibury, but know not
whether to congratulate you, being no friend to the
dangerous pursuit of racing. Out of five of my fellow-
collegians who have pursued it, three ruined themselves
past recovery. Reflect upon this, and let me have your
immediate decision respecting Riply. — In haste, your
affectionate father,

" ANDREW RABY.
" AMSTEAD ABBEY, June 25th, 1809."

The following reply to the foregoing epistle was de-
spatched by return of the post : —

" MY DEAR FATHER, — It would ill become me to refuse
complying, in any respect, with the ' earnest desire ' of
either my late uncle or yourself. I have only to say,
then, that, although I have not the slightest wish to be in
Parliament, nor the slightest idea that I shall be of any
use when I am there, beyond a silent vote, nevertheless,
I am willing to take the step that seems s6 near to your
heart. I will proceed to Riply to-morrow, or next day,
and of course you will write to Sir Richard, and arrange
all things necessary with him. The on dit here is, that I
am to be opposed by a rich sugar-baker from the city — if
so, money will be wanted beyond the mere usual expenses
of the return ; and I honestly tell you that, after having
gained a victory over the second best gentleman jockey at
Bibury, I should not relish being beaten by a city sugar-
baker over another course — still less to spend my own

334 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

money in the contest. To use your own words, then,
touching racing, ' reflect on this.1 Suppose, when we come
to the post, it should be 6 to 9 on the sugar-baker, and I
hear he is not only very rich, but a very sharp fellow, and
can make use of his tongue^ All things considered, I had,
perhaps, better await the answer to this letter before I set
forward to Riply.

"Now then for a word on another subject. You need
not longer hesitate as to your offer of congratulation on
my success at Bibury. It would have been greater, had I
used my own judgment in opposition to that of my trainer,
and I should have won the great prize of the meeting, in
the room of the Prince of Wales. To show you, however,
that I am not vain of my triumph over either horse or
man, I have made my bow to the turf, leaving it to those
who are better fitted for it than I am — in other words, to
those to whose tastes it is more congenial than I have
found it to be to mine. There is too much mystery in it
to please me ; added to a sort of mutual suspicion amongst
its votaries, that all are rogues together. That such is
not the case we are well assured, by the numbers of
honourable men who are amongst them ; but, to speak the
truth at once, I think, compared with fox-hunting, it is a
very low pursuit.

"By the way, the mention of the Prince reminds me
that his Royal Highness did me the honour to have me
introduced to him ; passed some compliments on my
horse and horsemanship, and in his usual — I believe
inimitable — elegantly familiar style, inquired kindly
after my mother, reminding me that they had danced a
minuet together in their younger days. Glad to hear you
are well, and remain — Your very affectionate son,

"FRANCIS RABY
" BOND STREET, June 27, 1809." (" M'R in abeyance).

The next day but two having brought the answer from
Mr. Raby, to the effect that he would find the needful for
the contest, should such take place, adding that he was
not to be frightened out of his object by a sugar-baker,
wealthy as he might be, and how " sweetly soever he might
discourse," Frank Raby ordered four post-horses to his
travelling carriage the next morning, and arrived at
Riply the same night. On the morrow he called on Sir

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 335

Richard Hartley, whose fine seat was in the neighbour-
hood, and the following was the result of the interview : —

" Glad to see you at Wortham," said Sir Richard ;
"your father seems bent upon your being in Parliament,
and on our borough becoming vacant, wrote to me to know
whether you, as a friend and nominee of mine, would walk
over the course. I told him, in reply, I thought you
would ; and as to my interest, he made sure of that, on
the score of our mutual regard. I have, however, since
learnt that an eminent sugar-baker in the city has a mind
to aspire to the honour ; and, as he is full of money, he
may, perhaps, cause us some trouble."

" My father has told me as much by letter," replied
Frank Raby ; " and I must say I am somewhat surprised
at his avowal of being prepared to spend money for my
return to Parliament, for which I have no desire, and,
moreover, I fear I should be of little service to my
country when I am there, having no turn for politics."

"You will not stand alone in that respect," observed
Sir Richard, " for the business of the country is, and ever
will be, conducted by a few ; but as the effects of a good1
education sometimes shine brilliantly when least expected,
I see no reason why you are not to take your part in the-
business of this great country. Your poor uncle Beau-
mont would have made a first-rate statesman, if he could
have aroused himself into action ; but want of energy is
not your failing."

" Not in pursuits congenial to my taste," replied Raby ;
" no man works harder than I do in the hunting season,
but I should not like to be shut up in the House till four
o'clock in the morning, and, perhaps, be put on a com-
mittee the same day. Then only fancy half a dozen
calls of the House in the very best part of the hunting
season ! "

To cut the matter short, we will at once proceed to the
nomination day, and, politics being inadmissible here,
merely give an outline of the proceedings, and jump at
once to the result. On a show of hands, a majority
appeared for Mr. Raby ; but the sugar-baker demanding
a poll, instantly addressed the electors, and with no small
effect. He not only promised them everything that ?*
member of Parliament could obtain for them, but, of
course, a great deal more ; and what was left undone by
his puree, he endeavoured to effect by his tongue. And

336 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

in truth he was not deficient in the use of it ; for,
although his eloquence was of a noisy and boisterous
order, consisting more in the vehemence of his utterance,
and the violence of his action and gesture, than in the
•elegance of his style or the strength of his reasoning, he
had a readiness of wit, with a kind of low drollery, that
took with the populace, although with better judges it
only passed for impudence and buffoonery. On th<3 other
hand, the appearance and deportment of his opponent were
quite of a different order. He simply thanked the electors
for the preference they had given him in that, the first
stage [of the contest — if contest it was about to be — and
assured them that, if they did him the honour to elect him,
he would endeavour to merit their favour. He concluded
his address, however, with this pithy sentence : —

"You have required no pledges from me, gentlemen,
and you have done wisely, for none would I have given
you. If it be your pleasure to return me to Parliament,
as the representative of yourselves and your interests, I
will endeavour to do my duty ; but I can only consent to
lie placed there with the liberty to speak my own senti-
ments, and vote as my conscience directs me. There is,
however, one assurance which you may accept as a pledge.
I will, to the best of my ability, support the crown, and
the ancient institutions of the realm both in church and
.state, which the example of a neighbouring country, so
lately torn by dissensions in each of these departments,
has induced many to assail. I am too young in years to
appeal to experience, and my reading, rather than my
experience, has led me to believe that there is no certain
protection for either person or property under democratic
sway, and that Great Britain is the only nation in the
world where liberty is the direct end of its constitution.
I can only add, then, Esto perpetua."

Here voices in the crowd exclaimed — " Go on ! — Look
at America ! "

" Well," continued our bero, " I will look at America,
and to what can I compare her ? Why, to one of those
lofty and umbrageous trees which grow so bulky, and
stretch out their branches to such an extent, that the
trunk is no longer able to sustain their weight."

" Well done, the young one ! " exclaimed an oldish man,
in a leathern apron, having somewhat the appearance of a
journeyman shoemaker. " Go on ! "

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 337

" What were the republics of antiquity ? " exclaimed a
better dressed man in black, not very unlike a dissenting
minister.

" Well," observed our young candidate, " I will tell you
what they were. They were the mature result of profound
political science. In their formation, the deepest re-
sources of philosophy were explored ; the most enlightened
sages consulted ; and every aid which history, experience,
or example of other states could afford, adopted. It is
true, they flourished for periods, under the auspices of
consummate wisdom and bravery, but their glory, in
many instances, was but short-lived. In fact, it was
oftentimes confined to the lustre of a single life. For
example, the splendour of Thebes commenced with the
public character of the celebrated Epaminondas, and de-
clined from the moment of his death. In fact, the maxims
by which their governments were supported are impracti-
cable in a populous country, such as England. They
afford too many opportunities for caballing, and betray
the mass of the people into rebellion and outrage. Be-
tween the patrician and plebeian orders the struggle is
ardent and unceasing ; and then look to the result. When
the former prevail, despotism ensues ; and if the latter
succeed, anarchy is the inevitable consequence. Who but
a madman would expect to revive the stern politics of
ancient nations, without their genius, their extreme
austerity, their rigid discipline, and their severe morality ?
But one lesson is given us in the construction and pro-
ceedings of some of those celebrated commonwealths,
which were the wonder and admiration of the world for a
long period of years. They preserved their purity and
vigour, and reached the summit of unrivalled excellence,
not only by instituting the best laws, and executing them
in the best manner, but by delegating the power of the
community to none but the best men. Let us not, then,
surrender a form of government which has made us happy
at home and respected abroad, for one which cannot,
under present circumstances, be realized without having
a contrary effect. We should substantiate the fable of
chasing Juno, and plunging into a cloud. The old family
mansion which our forefathers have inhabited so long,
may want repair, but those who would level it with the
ground, or change it for another, would soon find their
mistake."

22

338 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" But the taxes ! " says a careworn elector, the father of
eleven children.

" I have an answer for you" said our hero, " in a few
words. Without taxes you could have no protection, be-
cause you could have no Government ; and with reflecting
persons, the opportunities afforded to them to rise in the
world, in a country whose revenue is so large as ours, are
fully equivalent to all they pay. But as to the system of
their distribution, complaints will ever be made against it,
inasmuch as people are apt to imagine that official duty is
never honestly performed but by virtues and abilities
above humanity. Now, as you have pressed me to deliver
my sentiments, I will tell you what I consider to be the
duty of every public man in these times, whether in Parlia-
ment or out. He should lend all the aid in his power to
preserve the essentials of the British constitution, yielding
to such changes only as are by no means likely to put its
safety to the hazard ; to repress, as much as possible, that
violent propensity to confusion and anarchy which secretly,
if not openly, agitates the ignorant and discontented ; to
soothe the querulous, and encourage the timid, and dis-
appoint and undeceive the daring and ill-intentioned ; to
guard every man's right, by showing that no claims are
paramount to justice ; and, lastly, to establish the security
of property by encouraging all classes in its defence, and
impressing on the public mind this great truth, that life
is no longer valuable to any man than whilst he continues
in the sure and peaceable possession of what he has a right
to call his own."

" Bravo, Eaby ! " shouted at least half of those who heard
him.

From the commencement of the foregoing address, it is
apparent that our hero was by no means anxious for the
honour that now awaited him, since he was very sparing
of his professions, and indeed, even of his words, until the
spur was applied to him. But neither professions nor
words were wanting ; neither the purse of the sugar-
baker, nor his humour, could avail against the deeply-
rooted interest of Sir Richard Hartley, who, in addition
to owning nearly half of the borough, spent £4000 a year
in it ; and at the end of the third day's poll, our hero
was left to walk over the course, and, consequently, at no
heavy expense.

The visit to Sir Richard — a very good kind of man in

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 339

his way, but of tastes somewhat uncongenial with those of
his young guest, and twice his age withal — being one
merely of business, and the object of it being attained,
Frank Raby was in London again as soon as four posters
could convey him, and hailed amongst his acquaintance as
the new M.P.

" I would rather be M.F." said he, to some of his friends
who were jeering him ; and amongst the hardest hitters of
them all was his dear friend Hargrave, who cast these
lines in his teeth : —

" Go on, brave youths ! till, in some future age,
Whips shall become the senatorial badge :
Till England see her jockey senators
Meet all at Westminster, in boots and spurs ;
See the whole House, in mutual frenzy mad.
Her patriots all in leather breeches clad :
Of bets, not taxes, learnedly debate,
And guide with equal reins a steed and state."

"But, jesting apart," resumed Hargrave, "how did you
get on upon the hustings 1 "

" Tipped them ' a little jaw,' as we used to say at Eton.
I meant to have said less than I did say, but one or two of
my constituents, as I suppose I must now call them, would
not be satisfied till they had tried me on a point or two
touching my principles, as they are called, but they did
not get much by it. I only advised them to be quiet and
good subjects, and mind the main chance ; and I might
have added, mind their own business. For my part, I
cannot think what a fellow with a leathern apron before
him can know about politics ; but this I do know, that if
power were to get into the hands of such fellows, the
tyranny of a Nero or a Caligula would be a trifle to it. At
all events, the natural form of society would be reversed.
The bad would usurp the place of the good, the young of
the old, the weak of the strong, the foolish of the wise, the
poor of the rich, the servant of his master, and the subjects
of their sovereign."

" And did no metaphorical application of the study and
science of coachmanship or race-riding escape you?" slid
Sir John Inkleton jocosely ; " nothing about holding the
reins of government with a steady hand, clogging the wheels
of administration, or of other nations outstripping us in
the race of glory ? But tell me, Frank, how did your

340 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

opponent acquit himself? — did he touch on the shop in
his speech 1 "

" Not he, indeed," replied Frank, " but he touched on
most other subjects, for he spoke for above two hours. In
fact, he appeared to pride himself on his eloquence, and to
place his chief dependance upon it ! Indeed, the opening
sentence of his speech — and he might as well have told us
that Queen Anne was dead — was this : — ' Speech being
the faculty which exalts man above the rest of the crea-
tion, we may consider eloquence as the talent which gives
him the most distinguished pre-eminence over his own
species ! ' "

" Capital ! " exclaimed Sir John ; " and what next 1 "
" Oh," replied Frank, " I might as well endeavour to
remember last year's clouds. He said a good deal about
the dearth of good speakers in the House of Commons,
declaring that they drowned the poverty of their concep-
tions in the excess of fine words, while he himself was
dealing out tropes and figures by the dozen, on mere
commonplace subjects. But it struck me his favourite
figure was the synecdoche, which implies saying one thing
and meaning another ; for, although he more than once
spoke of 'our good King George,' it is well known he
would rejoice to see him dethroned to-morrow, because he
refused to make him a baronet. And in the course of
his speech he let the cat out of the bag, by quoting from
Shakspeare in support of his assertion, that he himself was
neither to be bought nor sold —

-' 0, how wretched

Is that poor man, that hangs on princes' favours !
There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to,
That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin,
More pangs and fears than war and women have ;
And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer,
Never to hope again.'

" He, however, concluded his oration with a very sensible
remark, and which showed that he has looked into books
as well as into sugar, and I question whether he might
not make a much better M.P. than myself. When allud-
ing to the measures proposed in Parliament, he said, it was
the duty of its members, when any great undertaking is
proposed, to ask themselves these questions : — ' First, is it
practicable? secondly, ie it consistent with the interest,

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 341

the honour, and the safety of the country ? They should
then carefully weigh such points as are likely to make for
or against it ; — what is to be feared, what to be expected ;
— what consequences may be the result of ill success, and
how such consequences are to be repaired : — lastly, whether
the extent of our risk do not more than counterbalance
the probable advantages of the enterprise. When de-
liberating upon these matters, those who address the
House should examine the subject thoroughly in every
point of view — not only real, but possible. After making
themselves masters of it, they have nothing more to do
than to set forth those circumstances, and to state their
arguments for and against the measure with force and
simplicity. Here is no room for displaying beauties, for
tickling the ear, or soothing the imagination. This may
be called an eloquence for service — for which one great
man is so distinguished — which, in fact, rejects everything
that has more of show than of solidity. All the speeches
of Demosthenes to animate the Athenians against Philip
of Macedon, are in this strain of vigorous and convincing
oratory. In them we find no empty parade of words, no
affectation of ornament, no sophistical reasoning. They
are rich, not gaudy — brilliant, not glaring — forcing their
way to the mind, not by the artifice of insinuation, but by
the irresistible energy of truth.' "

" Upon my word," observed the Baronet, " I am myself
inclined to think the sugar-baker would be the most useful
man of the two : those are good business-like ideas of his,
which you have just quoted."

"I think so too," replied our sporting M.P., "and wish
that he were in my place, and I had the money in my
pocket that my election will cost. It would just mak«
my stable complete."

"" Is it not already complete ? " observed Sir John ;
" are not eight good hunters enough for you ? "

" Certainly not for Melton," resumed Raby ; " and I
hope to be settled there next winter, at all events the
following one. Nothing under a stud of twelve will do
there, and I hope to have fourteen. I have no idea of
being seen kicking my heels in Melton streets, when
others are out with hounds ; and such would be the case
if I had a short stable of horses, with hounds every day
within reach."

" You will outrun the constable," said the Baronet.

342 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" No fear," answered Frank ; " I shall live quietly in the
country in the summer, to provide for the winter cam-
paign ; and as I have given up the turf, and never play
for a sixpence, my income will stand the brunt."

" But Parliament ! " remarked Hargrave — " that will lie
a pull. You must be a good deal in London."

" Not much of that," replied our patriot — " at least as
little as I can help. I shall leave such other matters to
wiser heads than mine. What would my opinion be worth
on the affairs of the Elector of Bavaria, or the convention
with Russia?"

Parliament not assembling till the usual period, it did
not interfere with the present views of its new member,
and when it did meet, nothing further was heard of him
than that he had taken the oaths and his seat. The
summer, however, was not wasted by him in the doubly-
heated atmosphere of London ; but, by the first day in
July, he was comfortably settled again at Farndon Hall,
with a select party of friends, enjoying the pleasures of
the coach-box, together with fishing and cricket, until be
took his departure for the Highlands, as he had done in
preceding years. On his return, in addition to the usual
pastime of the trigger during the months of September
and October, he entered upon another pursuit, though it
did not prove to his liking. Having what he considered
a fair kennel of greyhounds, he became a member of a
coursing meeting, and contended for some of the prizes.
Neither was he unsuccessful ; his dog, Champion, having
particularly signalized himself in several severe courses,
and was the winner of two cups. But coursing was not
to his taste, sufficiently so, at least, as to induce him to
enter into it as a science, and without doing so he con-
sidered it must be time thrown away in following it,
unless for the sake of what is called the parson's course
— namely, " the hare at the end of it." This, however,
his keeper was able to provide for him. But he had
objections to coursing on several grounds. Firstly, the
prodigious number of rules and regulations to be observed
— at least considered necessary to be observed — in the
running of each course, naturally cause disputes, by the
difficulty of observing them — to the satisfaction of the
loser especially. All emulative pursuits, he said, produce
excitement ; but he contended that he witnessed more
anxiety in the owners of greyhounds, when the contest

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 343

has been for a cup, than in those of race-horses running
for the Derby or St. Leger. The difficulty of having the
course fairly decided is the chief cause of this excitement ;
and a more trying situation than that of the tryer or judge
of a first-rate coursing meeting is not often experienced.
Secondly, the system of breeding and training greyhounds
is so refined that, to excel in each, a man's whole attention
should be given to it. At the end of the third year, then,
of his keeping greyhounds, he had a sale of them at
Tattersall's, where they fetched as good prices as could be
expected from the kennel of so young a sportsman as our
hero. The history of Champion, however, proved remark-
able. He became the sire of more good greyhounds than
any other dog of those days ; indeed, it was asserted of
him, that he could produce good runners from very in-
ferior bitches. This was a pleasing reflection to our hero,
inasmuch as it showed that, so far in life as he had gone,
he had more or less succeeded in whatever pursuit he had
engaged in ; and in the fly-leaf of his greyhound book, in
which the pedigree and performance of each dog were very
accurately entered, were the following remarks, written
with his own hand : — " Although many kinds of dogs are
as long as the greyhound, yet, from the many curves and
circles which he describes in his shape, he excels all in
his strides.

" Fine greyhounds, like fine horses, have a general pro-
portion, and a certain elegance of parts ; they abound in
muscle, have great length for their height, have their
hocks let down to the ground, behind, and standing from
them, which greatly increases the angle, have the muscles
of the thigh remarkably broad and expanded, with great
strength of back, and to supply the want of a long pastern-
joint — which speedy horses have — their feet and toes are
longer than those of any other dogs. They also resemble
the hare in the declivity of the shoulders, and length and
strength of the hinder legs, as well as the development of
muscle in the loins. In fact, were their frame to be put
to the test of geometrical science, I know not in what
respect it could be improved as regards the united faculties
of speed and endurance."

Two things will have been observable in the progress of
this history — if history it can be called : one, that our
hero, although occasionally running riot a little, like a
well-bred young hound just entered to his game, possesses

344 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

an amiable disposition, a feeling heart, and strictly honour-
able principles, early inculcated in him by his father, his
uncle, and Mr. Egerton, which could not fail to guide his
conduct through life. The other, that Sir John Inkleton
has been, from the first — although perhaps the encourager
by his example of too expensive pursuits, namely, the
coach-box and fox-hunting — a kind friend to him, by
giving him the benefit of his experience in several worldly
matters, as likewise in now and then checking the ardour
of a youthful mind, conscious that, one day or another,
gratification, to almost any extent, would be within his
reach. Instances in proof of each of these positions are
now about to appear.

"What are your plans, Frank, for the winter cam-
paign ? " asked the Baronet, who paid him a visit at
Farndon Hall.

" I shall go to Melton," replied Frank.

" Pause for a moment," resumed Sir John, " before you
determine upon that step. Recollect, the state of your
stud is not equal to it at present, neither should I think
is that of your purse, as you have laid out large sums in
purchasing your carriages and coach-horses, furnishing
your house, stocking your cellars, &c.!)

" But I can borrow what I may want from my solicitor,
until that little estate in Hertfordshire is sold," replied
our hero.

" Take my advice," resumed the Baronet ; " do not
borrow from your lawyer. Lawyers are necessary agents
to men of property ; but the more independent we are of
them, the better chance have we of their doing us justice ;
and it would not be worth your while to raise money in
any other way, until that estate is sold. And, mind, I
do not blame you for your intention of selling it, since
a small property like that, in a distant part of the country,
is not worth keeping ; and the purchase-mouey will not
only give you a still better start in the world than you
have hitherto had, but, by enabling you to have your
income clear, so as to pay your way as you go, you will
save twenty per cent, upon everything. Let me advise
you, then, to defer your visit to Melton for one more
year."

" But my house and stables, Inkleton ; what must I do
about them ? " exclaimed Frank. " I shall have the rent
to pay, and nothing for my money ! "

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 345

" You will have nothing to pay," resumed Sir John ;
" Holding will take the whole off your hands."

" Sir Frederick, or his brother ? " inquired our hero.

" His brother," replied Sir John ; " and as you have
often said you should like to take what you call a tour of
hunting countries, I should recommend you to select this
winter for the purpose. As you avow your intention of
keeping hounds yourself, you may profit much by the
plan I propose. You will be able to observe closely the
conduct of both masters and servants in the several countries
you visit, profiting by what is good, and marking what
you may consider to be the reverse."

" Your advice is good," replied our hero ; " I will at
once act upon it. In the first place, I shall be quite at
ease in my mind, from the reflection that I shall not be
drawing too fast on my banker ; and, in the next, I shall
no doubt profit by what I see in various countries, and in
the various sportsmen whom I shall meet in them."

Shortly after this conversation took place, Frank Raby
commenced his tour, fixing upon Cheshire as his start,
and for this very good reason : he was informed that the
hounds which hunted the country were at that period
under the management of a first-rate sportsman of the
school of that day, no other than George Home, whose
family had been long seated in this aristocratic country.
Nor was he misinformed on this subject : he found a most
effective kennel of hounds, with a truly scientific sports-
man at their head, and he also found — the surest test of
merit — that his blood was sought after in some of the first
establishments of those days. But for the country he
could not say much. Having had a taste of Leicestershire,
Northamptonshire, and Warwickshire, he found himself
cramped, as it were, in the small fields of Cheshire ;
neither were some of his horses at all calculated for its
fences, which were, for the most part, hedges placed on
narrow banks, or "cops," as they are called there,
strengthened by a deep and often blind ditch. This kind
of fence not only requires a practised horse, very quick
and ready with his legs, as he must spring from the cop,
when the ditch is on the landing side, but it also requires
a practised and good horseman to get him over it with
safety, when he becomes what is termed " pumped out "
by the pace. Temper, likewise, and that of a peculiar
nature, is almost indispensable here ; that is to say, the

346 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

courage and resolution so desirable in horses who have to
face the thickly-set thorn fences of the countries we have
just alluded to, are the reverse of what is wanting here.
Extreme steadiness is required — amounting, indeed, to
slackness — at the generality of the fences we have been
describing ; and it being the lot of our hero to have only
two of his stud (which consisted of eight hunters and two
hacks) possessing these qualities, he never went out with-
out a fall. Butjhe profited by these mishaps in more ways
than one. Before he had been a month in the country, his
horses were up to every description of trap, in the first
place ; and, in the next, he acquired some excellent lessons
on the use of the bridle hand from some of the best men
in the Hunt ; and from none more to his edification than
from one whose calling confined him to the use of the
black coat : this was the Rev. James Tomlinson, quite the
crack man of the field, being a horseman of the very
first class, 'and a good sportsman withal. Our hero was
delighted as well as edified by the manner in which this
gentleman crossed this cramped and difficult country,
conceiving him to be a man who would shine in any
country, forasmuch as he combined quickness with his
judgment of every point relating to hounds ; and his hand
was equal to anything. His stud was not large — not
exceeding half a dozen ; but, when disposed to sell, they
commanded any price.

It has happened to most men who have ridden after
hounds — although not perhaps more than once in their
life — to feel a horse take what is called a second spring
when in the air. This circumstance occurred one day to
our hero, when hunting with the Cheshire hounds, and
on mentioning the subject to Mr. Home, he thus delivered
his opinion upon it : —

" I have experienced this extra exertion in a hunter
more than once," observed Mr. Home, " but I admit the
difficulty of accounting for it. Leaping commonly takes
place on a fixed surface, which possesses the power of
resistance, in consequence of its firmness ; still, leaping, as
we know, can be performed, to a certain degree, from a
yielding surface, although the retrograde motion of the
surface produces a diminution in the velocity of the leap,
compared with that which is made from firm ground.
However, here is a fulcrum to spring from in each case ;
but how a horse, having once made his spring, has the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 347

power to increase the velocity of it, is difficult to account
tor, unless, as is the case with serpents and such aquatic
insects as have long bodies and no fins, he have the power
of inflecting the body to a certain extent, and thence
acquire an impetus. Swimming and flying are leaps
which take place in fluids, but they are produced by the
resistance these fluids make to the impulse of certain
surfaces, through which swimming or flying animals move
with great rapidity ; but the velocity is necessarily great
in proportion to the variety of the medium. The muscles
which produce it require, therefore, a force vastly superior
to that which is necessary for a simple leap upon a solid
surface ; but there is still another requisite for motions
which take place in fluids, which the horse does not
possess. The body being entirely surrounded by these
media, would find an equal resistance on all sides ; and
the velocity acquired by striking the fluid posteriorly
would soon be overcome by the quantity that must be
displaced anteriorly, if the animal had not the power of
considerably diminishing its surface immediately after it
has struck the fluid — which power, also, the horse has not.
I certainly was indebted for the preservation of some of
my limbs, perhaps my life, for an exertion of this sort,
which enabled my horse to clear a sawpit that was on
the landing side of a fence I rode at. One who saw me
exclaimed — ' Why did you not look before you leaped ? '
when a wag answered him in the words of Horace — ' Nemo
mortalium omnibus horis sawpit.' "

The next pack visited by our hero was that of Sir
Richard Puleston. who hunted parts of Cheshire, Shrop-
shire, and North Wales, and his object for so doing was
this : — he had been informed, by more than one good
judge, that Sir Richard was an excellent breeder of fox-
hounds ; in fact, that he had done much towards ridding
them of those coarse points which, whilst they disfigured
them, were found not to be essential to strength and
endurance, but evidently impediments to speed. Then he
had another motive for visiting Sir Richard's pack. He
was at that time one of the very few masters of fox-
hounds who hunted his own hounds, and, as he hoped
some day or another to hunt a pack himself, he was
anxious to see a gentleman placed in that difficult and
trying situation. Nor was he disappointed in Sir Richard,
who exhibited much good judgment in his casts, and drew

348 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

for his fox in a manner very much to his taste. Had he,
indeed, ridden a little nearer to his hounds in chase, he
would have called him a first-rate huntsman. The next
pack, however, which our young sportsman went to see,
on his tour, were hunted by quite a first-rate huntsman,
and also in the character of a gentleman. We allude to
Mr. Musters, who at that time hunted one of the best of
the midland counties with very great eclat. He combined,
in the opinion of our hero, every possible requisite for
his task. He was a beautiful and bold horseman ; with
a voice musically melodious ; with the eye of a hawk to
his hounds and country, and with a sort of intuitive
knowledge of the usual lines in which his foxes ran, to an
extent not hitherto witnessed by him. And the following
rather curiously drawn portrait of him was given to him
by a friend : —

" It-is in the field that Mr. Musters shines. Birds, we
are told, cannot conceive with beasts, nor fish with fowl,
but dogs, to an extent, certainly conceive with men,
and some persons have a peculiar method off making
their wishes known to them. At the head of these is
Mr. Musters. In command of hounds I never saw him
equalled, and he certainly handles them with a master's
hand. Every art has its peculiar terms, and his language
and method in the field are most appropriate. In fact,
he may be said to suit the action to the word, and the
word to the action, with the greatest possible effect. By
temperament of constitution, also, he is particularly fitted
for a huntsman ; for, being never fatigued, he is always
cheery and gay. To sum up all, although a gentleman, he
is a huntsman. Nature qualified him for the task, and
without this, it is in vain to attempt it. As Ion says —

'What's the gay Dolphin when he quits the waves,
And bounds upon the shore ? '"

But a singular instance of his powers over the wills and
affections of his hounds was related to our hero by one
who had long hunted with him ; and what renders the
circumstance still more extraordinary, is the fact that Mr.
Musters does not feed his own hounds in kennel, as most
huntsmen (servants) do. " His hounds were on their
road to sleep out, previously to the next day's hunting,
the fixture being a distant one, and he himself was like-

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 349

wise on his road to dine and sleep at a friend's house. It
happened that, as his own house was four miles from the
kennel from which the hounds had started, he did not
travel in their line for a certain portion of the road ; but,
knowing that he must cross it at a certain point, he
pushed on his hack, to enable him to get ahead of them.
When, however, they came into that part of the road
over which he had just gone before them, despite of the
endeavours of the whip to restrain them, every hound in
the pack started off, and overtook him in the space of a
mile. Neither could their joy on reaching him be re-
strained ; they surrounded his horse, and one actually
leaped on his quarters, for the purpose of licking his
huntsman's face."

There was another eminent sportsman in that country,
whom Frank Raby was anxious to see, and that pleasure
was afforded him. This was Sir Charles Knightly, one
of the most fearless and determined horsemen of the
period to which we allude. On two thorough-bred horses
— Benvolio and St. Maronel — which he rode for several
seasons, he went straighter, perhaps, than any other man
over the country in which he hunted, and which was one
of the strongest in England as to fences, and this fact is
confirmed by the following declaration on his part. On
some one observing, in his presence, that the country in
which he hunted was very strong, but that the difficulty
of crossing it was, to a certain extent, lessened by the
number of bridle-gates, he coolly replied, that the only
fault he found with it was in the number of bridle and other
gates with which it abounded. " I wish," said he, " every
gate in the country was nailed up, and then my hounds
would not be incommoded by the crowd." He was not
a master of hounds at the period to which we allude, so
that our hero had not an opportunity of observing him in
that capacity, but he took several lessons from him in the
practice of riding to hounds.

" The straightest road is the best and easiest for your
horse," he would say, " until the hounds turn, when you
should always get a point in your favour, by being a little
beforehand with them at that moment."

Then a great treat was afforded to our young sportsman,
in witnessing a day with Mr. Musters, in the very celebrated
woodlands of the country his hounds hunted. Strange to
say, they are dissected by avenues to the extent of seventy

350 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

miles, in various directions ; and being the property of
a noble Duke, himself a master of foxhounds, are never
short of foxes. He was fortunate in seeing a fox made to
break from them by the surprising energies of Mr. Musters,
and, after facing the open country, being up at his death,
at the distance of twelve miles, as the crow flies.

Moving on, in his tour, our hero visited the Hertford-
shire hounds, then the Hampshire, and afterwards the
Vine, with each of which he saw some really good sports-
men, from several of whom he gathered golden opinions,
which served his purposes through life. The scene of
action with each of these packs lying in what may be
called very unfavourable ground for hounds, was his chief
motive for visiting them, forasmuch as it is in the over-
coming of difficulties that talent most strikingly displays
itself. He witnessed much science in all that related to
the Hertfordshire, their huntsman being a first-rate per-
former, assisted by as clever a whipper-in as ever rated
a hound ; and in the "Hampshire" pack, from Alpha to
Omega, all appeared to him to be perfect. In fact, he
found, as a friend of his told him he would find, a pro-
priety attending that establishment, as well as correctness
of conduct in everything relating to it, which are highly
gratifying to a sportsman's eye, and which cannot be too
closely imitated. The civility and respectful behaviour
of the servants were beyond all praise ; and whether by
command of their master, or from their own sense of
propriety, it was not in his power to determine, but an
oath, or a coarse expression of any sort, was never heard
to escape them under the most trying circumstances that
occurred. It showed that fox-hunting was about to be
purged of the only stain that was then attached to it,
namely, being the scene of wanton disregard of the usual
decorum of society.

Of the Vine hounds he thus wrote to his intimate friend
and brother sportsman, Hargrave : —

" I am now hunting with a pack called the Vine, so
called because such is the name of their owner's house,
he representing the county in Parliament. He has the
appearance of anything rather than a master of fox-
hounds, streaming across the country with a long pig-
tail down his back, but he is very popular with all
descriptions of persons. But it is of his hounds that I
wish to speak. They are very small — the smallest I ever

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 351

saw — but very neat, very fast, very quick in their turns,
and very stout. I shall have an eye to some of their
blood, one day or another. They have a bad, light-
scenting country to hunt over, which puts their goodness
to the test.

" You often hear me speak of my weight, and grumble
about it. I shall do so no more, because I see that men,
four stone heavier than I am, can go well up to hounds.
When I was in the Hertfordshire country, I saw this
proved in the person of one of the most extraordinary
men, perhaps, England ever produced. His name is
Richard Gurney — commonly called Dick Gurney — and,
although riding eighteen stone, he goes the best pace.
In fact, a short time since, I went to see a gate that he
and Sir Charles K-nightly — but no one else — leaped, near
Northampton, at the end of a twenty minutes' burst. It
appeared to me next to a miracle that he could have
cleared it, when I looked at its height, and thought of
his tremendous weight. The name of the horse that
performed it is Cock Robin (winged, I should imagine,
like his namesake), and he has refused 1000 guineas
for him.

" The frost is gone at last, and to our no small delight.
Indeed, the breaking-up of one always reminds me of
the inhabitants of those countries from which the sun
absents himself for half the year. Speaking poetically,
when they see the chariot of Diana, every man claps
his hands for joy ; all come forth from their caves, with
dancing and songs, to welcome the approach of the
beautiful goddess. But you may wish to know what I
did with myself during the frost. I visited London for
a week, and afterwards ran down to Amstead, and had
a capital week's shooting, killing seventeen couples of
woodcocks, eleven and a half brace of pheasants, seven
and a half of snipes, and eleven of rabbits. I then ran
down to Quorn to see the hounds in kennel, and a great
treat I had. The master was from home, but I inspected
the whole establishment, which, to use the low expression,
' made my mouth water,' and I said to myself — ' when shall
I be qualified to be at the head of such an establishment
as this ? ' I was answered by the inner man, with a still
lower expression — ' when you have eaten a good deal more
pudding.' But I tell you, honestly, Hargrave, I shall
never consider myself completely happy until I become

352 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

a master of foxhounds. By-the-bye, one piece of informa-
tion gleaned at Quorn somewhat surprised me, and this
was, the comparatively small number of foxes killed in
the space of five seasons, during what may be called the
prime of Mr. Meynell's career. The account stands thus :
—From 16th of "August 1791 to April 1792, thirty-four
brace. From 16th of June 1792 to 9th of April 1793,
forty-one and a half brace. From 16th of June 1793 to
2nd of April 1794, forty-six and a half brace. From 23rd
of August 1794 to 4th of April 1795, twenty-six and
a half brace. From 26th of August 1795 to 4th of
April 1796, thirty-four and a half brace. This, you will
perceive, averages little more than thirty-six brace in the
season, including cub-hunting, and that commencing more
than usually early. Either the foxes must have been more
scarce than they now are, to account for this trifling
amount of blood ; or, what I think most probable, they
were wilder and more difficult to kill in Meynell's days,
the country itself being wilder and more open than it
now is.

" The kennels and stables at Quorn are superb, and you
must see them soon. Exclusive of boxes, there is one
stable which holds twenty-eight horses, and so contrived
by a trifling deviation from a right line, that, although
all the horses appear to stand in a row, the quarters of
each are to be seen at either extremity of the building.
A clean watering-bridle hangs on the stall-post of each
horse, and there is a patent lamp between every six.
This is all very fine as far as the eye of man is concerned ;
but for the welfare of the horses I should prefer smaller
stables, so as to divide the lot according to their several
necessities. Horses require a state of extreme quiet at
times, which they cannot enjoy in a stable occupied by
so many. Some require to be shod ; others are in physic,
and most go out more than once in the day : and many
such occurrences tend to disturb repose, which should
be plentifully allowed to hunters after hard days, as a
great restorative of their powers, as well as a preventive
of fever."

Towards the close of the season, another letter was
despatched by Frank Raby to his friend Hargrave, of
which the following is part : —

" My tour of hounds is now drawing to a conclusion ;
but I cannot wait till I see you for the pleasure of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 353

relating to you a run I saw yesterday, in the Atherstone
country. The beautiful pack of bitches met at Sibson.
The morning was immoderately stormy, and, as far as
human foresight extended, perfectly inimical to scent and
sport ; but the result proved how fallible is human judg-
ment ! We drew the wolds and Welsborough Gorse blank.
"\Ve then proceeded to Sutton Hambion, and the hounds
had scarcely been in the cover a minute before the electric
sounds of ' Tally-ho ! ' — ' Gone-away ! ' were audible, and
the fox broke in the most gallant style. The moment
the hounds were laid on the scent, it was evident we were
in for a run ; and away they went, with heads up, and
sterns down, to Bosworth, where the hounds, and a few
of the first-flight men, got a view of the fox. It was but
a peep, however, and away we went again, the hounds
appearing bent upon conquest • — the pace up to this
moment having been a flyiiuj one. He then made his
line for Kirkby, leaving the Gorse to the left, as if
Burbage Wood were his next point ; but the hounds
pressed him so hard, that he went farther a-field ; and,
to come to the end of my story, he was killed at the end
of one hour and fifty-five minutes, during which time
nothing occurred which could be called a check. The
country being awfully deep, and the pace throughout
fast in the extreme, several disasters occurred, and
veterinary surgeons were in request, on the morrow, in
more directions than one.

" By-the-bye, I do not recollect having told you that I
hunted one week in Yorkshire, with the hounds of the
far-famed Earl of Darlington. He has a noble establish-
ment of hounds and horses, a most extensive country,
and he performs the office of huntsmen both in the field
and in the kennel. He is a superb horseman over a
country as well, and altogether a sportsman, being one
of the leading men in the north on the turf. He is, like-
wise— for I had the honour of passing two days with him
at his castle — one of the most lively and agreeable com-
panions I ever met with over a bottle of claret, abounding
with anecdotes, and having a most agreeable manner of
relating them. What think you of his feeding his hounds
in a smock-frock ? which I saw him do twice. I hope some
day to do the same by mine, that is, when I have them
to feed. His Lordship also keeps a diary of each day's
sport, written with much spirit, and showing that his

23

354 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

heart and soul are in the pursuit. I will give you a
little specimen of his style, in recording the sport of the
first day on which I was out with his pack. Speaking
of those of his field who went well in the brilliant run
we had, of an hour and forty minutes, he says — ' I cannot
omit to mention that the Rev. Mr. John Morton shone
as conspicuously on his grey mare as he always does in
the pulpit.' Then, speaking of myself, his Lordship has
thus described me : — ' A young gentleman by the name
of Raby, a friend of my eldest son, who made his ac-
quaintance at Melton, was out with us this day, and rode
well to my hounds ; he appears to have an old head upon
young shoulders, and I prophesy that he will, some day
or another, make a distinguished sportsman.'

" His Lordship did not show me what he had written ;
but as we like to hear what is thought of us by people
whose opinion is worth having, I took a peep into the
book next morning, and was of course flattered by the
handsome mention made of me. I certainly never rode
better to hounds than I did that day over a cramped and
difficult country, but I chanced to ride Achilles, who is
up to all sorts of trap. There was, however, one fence
which I did not attempt, although many of the Yorkshire
horses did not appear to regard it ; this was a stile in the
shape of the letter V, consequently without a top bar to
guide the eye of a horse as to how high he is to leap.
One, not accustomed to this sort of fence, would be in-
duced to leap through it, in which case he most likely
would be caught.

"You will expect that I shall say something of the
hounds. They are divided into two packs, the large and
the small one. The large hounds are noble animals, and
good hunters ; but — and I saw both packs at work, and
in difficulties — I gave the preference to the small ones,
which appeared more handy and quicker. It is alto-
gether, however, a splendid and truly sportsmanlike
establishment."

The summer succeeding the period which we have now
been detailing the operations of, having been passed in
a way, for the most part, to the full satisfaction of our
hero — namely, in the enjoyment of the London season
up to a certain period, a trip to Brighton, a visit to his
friend Hargrave, Epsom and Ascot races, 'Bibury Club
meeting, together with his " parliamentary diities " —

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 355

although he was getting somewhat out of conceit with
being a member of the British senate, having been twice
obliged to absent himself from a favourite fixture for
hounds to obey a call of the House, and once had a visit
from the sergeant-at-arms for not obeying it : — when all
these momentous affairs were accomplished, he hastened to
Farndon Hall, to spend the rest of the summer in a way
more congenial to his taste. His coaching establishment
was now quite complete by some changes he had effected
in London. He had drafted the kicking wheeler ; as
well as a leader that would not stand still when he pulled
up his coach on the road, and he was a bad starter as
well. Having witnessed much of the performances of
some of the best gentlemen-coachmen of the day, during
his stay in London, he was become a first-rate artist
himself ; and, after the example of his friend, " His
Honour," by opening the door of his servants' hall to
such of the coachmen and guards on his road as required
a few days' rest, together with having their allowance
scored up to him in his village, through which three mails
and seven coaches passed daily, his name was known to
nearly all the fraternity of the whip as a kind-hearted
gentleman, and among the best friends of the road. He
was, indeed, universally respected by all ranks of persons
in his neighbourhood : neither was he unmindful of the
poor ; allowing those of his parish, besides occasional
assistance, a bushel of wheat a week throughout the year,
as his father had always done to double that amount.
Then a pleasing circumstance occurred on the anniversary
of his taking up his abode at Farndon Hall. Setting
aside the outlay of his carriages and horses, as likewise
the furnishing of his house, he found himself so far from
being in advance of his annual income, that there was a
balance of £1300 in his favour. To this he was indebted
partly to his own sense of propriety, partly to the ex-
cellent advice of his friend Inkleton, and greatly to his
having looked into his affairs at the end of each month,
and paid ready money for all minor wants. The little
estate in Hertfordshire, also, from its beautiful locality,
had been sold for nearly £2000 beyond the calculation
of his agents, which tended further to place him "on
velvet," that is to say, witli everything in his reach that a
man of moderate views could desire. " Noiv," said he to
himself, " I am qualified to hunt from Melton."

356 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

CHAPTER XVII

Frank Raby becomes a regular Meltonian ; loses his father, and
finally settles down as a master of foxhounds, the point of
honour in the Life of a Sportsman.

IT is scarcely necessary to observe, that the first week
in the succeeding November found our hero at
Melton Mowbray, occupying the house which he had
already tenanted for upwards of two years, and with his
stud increased to fourteen hunters and two cover hacks.
And his indoors establishment was this : — at the head of
it was his trusty butler, who had lived nearly all his
life with his late uncle, and consequently, having known
him in his childhood, was attached to his person and
interests beyond mercenary views, and who kept all his
accounts ; his own personal servant, or valet, skilled in
the art of clothes-cleaning, and especially in the depart-
ment of the boots, then only in its infancy ; a French
cook, with the highest attestations of his abilities from
Lord Edmonston, with whom he had lived, and who had
" parted with him for no fault," as the horse-chaunter
says in his puff of the patched-up screw ; an English
kitchen-maid of no slender qualifications, without which
no man's cuisine is complete ; his housekeeper, having
had her education in the Amstead still-room, under the
tuition of Mrs. Jones ; a footman and a housemaid
bringing up the rear. Here it will be perceived is no
wanton prodigality, nor was any such indulged in by
our young sportsman. His practice was to give dinners
twice a week, to parties of eight, and on the evenings on
which he had no engagement, one friend at least would
be his guest, to talk over the events of the day. And at
no place, except Melton, is there such a never-failing
succession of events to be discussed on these occasions,
by reason of there being three packs of hounds within
reach, and the certainty that out of a party of eight, one
attendant, at least, upon each pack, would be found.
Having stated all this, there is little room for doubting
that — although, perhaps, the knowledge of the savoir virre
in our young sportsman, was not quite so complete as in
some of the bon vivants of the day, who had more ex-

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 357

perience than himself — most of the arts and appliances
which render life agreeable to a man in his twenty-fifth
year, were to be found in his house at Melton.

But we have said nothing of his stud of hunters, selected
for this occasion. By the advice of his friend Somerby,
whom he had met in London during the season, an
alteration had been effected in them.

"The eight hunters you now have," said Somerby,
" are all good and useful of their kind ; but three of them
are not suited for Leicestershire. In the first place, they
are not well enough bred for our pace and country ; and,
in the next, in stable language, they are deficient in scale
to command and to cover our large blackthorn hedges,
with their wide ditches, and more especially the ox fences,
which require horses to extend themselves in their leaps
over a great space of ground. Let me recommend you
to draft all but those three ; and as there are two lots of
well-known and capital Leicestershire horses coming to
Tattersall's in a fortnight, you can then and there re-
place them, as well as complete the number of your stud.
Do not think me conceited in thus characterizing the
Leicestershire horse ; depend upon it, before you have
hunted in that country half as long as I have, you will
say I have not overdrawn the picture."

Space will not admit of our accompanying our hero
during the whole of his residence at Melton, which
continued for nine consecutive years, and where he left
behind him a reputation for all that is desirable in the
gentleman, the companion, and the sportsman ; and the
character he gave of it when he quitted it was, that, " to
a sportsman it was the most delightful place upon earth ;
the very centre and rendezvous of all pleasures, and
whatsoever is agreeable to mortals — in truth, to him, an
earthly paradise." There was, in fact, but one circum-
stance during the entire period of his sojourning there,
that produced an unpleasing reflection, but from the
relation of it here some good may arise. An unguarded
expression from a hot-headed young Irishman, but
possessing an equally warm heart — the result, perhaps,
of an extra bottle of claret, and that the result of a
brilliant run in the morning, which, in those days, was
too often celebrated with Bacchanalian rites in the evening
— interrupted the harmony of a party at which our hero
made one ; and, as was likewise too often the custom of

those days, for the honour of Tipperary, an apology for
the offence by the aggressor was declined. A meeting,
then, was necessarily the consequence ; and our hero,
having placed his honour in the hands of an officer of the
Guards with whom he became intimate at Melton, was
himself, the next morning, placed in array to his
antagonist at the distance of twelve paces. On the word
" Fire " being given, the Irishman fired in the air ; and —
as was evident to both seconds — the pistol of his opponent
having been so pointed as to render it impossible the ball
could take effect, it was, of course, a bloodless affair.

" Now, Mr. Eaby," said the Irishman, " I am ready
to take your hand, and declare, upon the honour of a
gentleman, that I regret having given you offence."
Anger, like the bee, says Seneca, should sting but once.
Our hero took his hand and pressed it, adding, emphati-
cally, these words : —

" My good fellow, let us think no more of what has
happened ; you have done and said all that I could
desire."

The conduct of Frank Eaby was highly approved of
on this occasion, having shown himself to be a man of
courage, tempered with humanity, which, after all, is the
only true courage,1 as possessing that nice sensibility of
honour which weighs the insult, rather than the injury ;
willing to accept of the slightest atonement for either,
and totally incapable of revenge. The situation, however,
in which he had placed himself (for his antagonist was a
first-rate shot), without the effort to defend himself, and
of course ignorant of the intentions of his opponent,
became a subject of admiration amongst his associates ;
and on the arrival of Hargrave, a few days afterwards on
a visit to him, the following conversation took place, on
their road to meet the hounds : —

"I have heard a good deal said," observed Hargrave,
" on the subject of your affair with the Irishman : the
Melton men — at least many of them — think you let him
off too cheaply ; that is to say, you, who were the
aggrieved, ran the risk of being punished, without the
chance of punishing the aggressor."

" No punishment which he could have inflicted upon
me," replied Frank Eaby, " would have been equal to

1 The Greeks used the word Apir* to express both what we call
valour and virtue.

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

359

what I should have suffered had I caused his death. I
would not have a man's blood lie at my door for any
consideration whatsoever. And as for a wish, on my part,
to inflict punishment on Fitzniaurice, nothing was further
from my mind. He is a good-hearted fellow — a man of
licence, indeed, in his words and actions ; and I felt sorry
afterwards that I took umbrage at what he said."

" But would not your honour have "

" Honour ! " interrupted our hero ; " I think there is
too much stress laid upon this said thing called honour ;
it appears to be the darling attribute of the present age ;
but I think it has lost by its acquirements. It is a
picture of virtue, perhaps, finely drawn, but, in my
opinion, the lines are not just, and the colours are too
glaring. These bloody maxims of honour were unknown
to the ancients in the best 'of their times, and why should
not we, who boast of our refinement, be unable to live
correctly in society, unless under fear of being shot, or
compelled to shoot others 1 "

" Pardon me," replied Hargrave ; " Antony challenged
Augustus ! "

" He may have done so," said Raby, " but that does not
prove the custom ; and if it did, custom without reason
is but an ancient error. I know that there were duels
fought in old times, as between the Horatii and the
Curatii, and others of still more importance in the eyes
of the world ; but these duellists were public enemies, a
sort of fighting representatives chosen to decide the
controversies of their respective countries ; there was no
cutting of throats to decide private disputes. And as you
have mentioned the name of Augustus, what, may I ask,
was his answer to Antony on being challenged by him
after the battle of Actium 1 Why that, if he (Antony)
was tired of life, there were other ways of his ridding
himself of it, and he (Augustus) should not trouble
himself to be his executioner."

" A capital answer," observed Hargrave.

" Yes," rejoined our hero ; " and if some man of well-
established courage and conduct, in our day, were to
return a similar one to another who wished to cut his
throat for a mere lapsus linguw over a bottle of wine, or
.a hasty expression in the moment of argument, he would
deserve well of society. Then look closer into the system,
and observe the inconsistency of it. A man inflicts upon

360 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

you the severest possible injury to begin with. Well,
you call him out, as the phrase goes, and he finishes by
shooting you. Then, although public opinion may be in
favour of this private appeal to arms, the punishment by
law is equal towards the injured and the injurer ; where-
as, in strict justice, the latter is the sole instigator, if not
perpetrator of the crime. At all events, the laws should
be lenient to the man who accepts the challenge, because
he acts under an opinion of honourable self-defence,
against the evil influence of which the law cannot pro-
tect him."

" Then I perceive," resumed Hargrave, " you are a
decided enemy to duelling, which I am, indeed, myself,
and I often think of the question Fielding makes
Partridge put to Tom Jones on the subject : ' Is not
courage forbidden by heaven?' said Partridge. 'Yes,'
replied Jones, ' but enjoined by the world.' "

" Then," said our hero, " which is the greater authority
of the two ? Heaven or the world ? "

"No question on that point," continued Hargrave.
" ' If it be possible,' says St. Paul, ' as much as lieth in you,
live peaceably with all men.' "

" Yes," observed Raby, " and in the next verse he adds
— ' avenge not yourselves ; it is written, vengeance is
mine.' "

The hounds appearing in sight, the subject was
dropped, and there is good reason to believe that, as this
was the first, so was it the last appearance of our hero on
this stage. Nemo debet bis vexari is not a bad proverb for
a man to keep in his pocket ; but despicable as is the
character of a quarrelsome man, and still more so the
professed duellist, there is too much reason to fear that
some young men think it a feather in their cap, with the
female sex especially, to have fought a duel. It is true,
Virgil makes Dido fall in love with ^Eneas, because he is
a fighting man. There is reason to believe, however, that,
ere long, this pernicious rule, by which society in the
upper classes has hitherto been governed, will be made
to yield its sway to a more rational tribunal. This would
be a reform worthy of an enlightened people.

Two rather interesting incidents have been overlooked
during the sojourn of Frank Raby at Melton, extending,
as has been observed, over a period of nine years. The
first has its origin in an extraordinary run, in which two

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 361

celebrated sportsmen of those times played extraordinary-
parts. The fox broke from the Coplow, the hounds
fetting away close at his brush, and so straight did he put
is head, that those who did not get well away with them,
had no chance to be near them, as there was nothing to
be had from a favourable turn. Those, however, who did
get away well, had great difficulty in living with the pack,
and, dropping off one by one, out of 150 at starting, the
field soon became select. But to what did it come at
length 1 Why, to the presence of only two, and even they
did not quite see the finish of this glorious run. And
there was no deceit here. Coming to a momentary check,
one said to the other —

"Look behind you. There is not a living soul in
sight ! " Nor was there. As there were no second horses
in those days, the honours should be recorded to the two
who thus distinguished themselves, as well as to their
owners who rode them. The name of one was the Clapper,
ridden by Mr. Ludlow, of Bibury, as well as of Leicester-
shire fame ; the other by Mr. Smith, honoured by
Napoleon as the grand chasseur of the day. And where
was our hero in this run ? He was one of the last lot of
five who all pulled up in the same large field, having been,
up to that time, brilliantly carried by Topthorn.

The second incident has somewhat of a contrary bearing,
inasmuch as it produces rather a rare instance of a sports-
man coming at once from a very close and confined
country into the spacious and highly-ridged fields of
Leicestershire, and distinguishing both himself and his
horse. This was the Reverend James Tomlinson, of whom
we have before spoken as having excited the admiration
of our hero in Cheshire, and whose performance on
the day alluded to was the cause of rather a curious
e'claircissement. Previously, however, to the climax, it
should be observed that, in those days, no gentleman,
except in the Cheshire Hunt, was seen in the hunting-field
clad in leather breeches. Thus clad, however, was Mr.
Tomlinson, when the fox broke from his cover, and,
moreover, the gentleman was still further disguised by a
coloured silk neckcloth.

"Who is the fanner going so well on the chestnut?"
asked one.

"Get his price for me," exclaimed another. "He's
mine, if I give five hundred for him," roared a third. " A

362 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

thousand would not purchase him," exclaimed Frank
Haby, who was within hearing of the trio. " He belongs
to Jemmy Tomlinson, a friend of mine, in Cheshire, and
he calls him The Pea."

At the end of the run, however, which " Jemmy " was
there to see, one or two of the field who had not heard
the explanation given by our hero, and, mistaking his rider
for a yeoman, asked him to put a price on his horse. The
answer may be anticipated.

We are now about to notice a great change in the
situation and circumstances of our hero. At the age of
thirty-six, he lost his excellent father, who died after a few
hours' illness, and before his son could reach him, although,
of course, sent for by express. To describe the scene of
affliction that Amstead Abbey presented on this melancholy
occasion, would be productive of no good to the generality
of my readers, and, perhaps, bring to the recollection of
some of them hours of similar distress. The blow to Lady
Charlotte was as severe as it was sudden, requiring all the
energies of her soul and body to enable her to withstand
its force ; but forasmuch as the weight of human sorrow,
like that of human power, is broken by being divided,
she was not entirely comfortless. Her two daughters,
although married, happened to be within easy reach of her
at the time ; and the presence of her son, of whom she
was justly proud, from the accounts she heard of him from
all quarters, was balm to her wounded spirit. And we
will produce a fact to show that she had not been
deceived in the representations of him, and that he was
worthy of being the representative of the excellent father
of whom he had been bereaved. On the day subsequent
to the funeral, which, in addition to his own dependants,
was attended by the carriages of all the neighbouring
families, and what told more for the virtues of the
deceased, by the bewailings of the poor of the neighbouring
villages, who had partaken of his fostering care and
charity to an unusual degree, she received from him the
following letter : —

" MY EVER DEAR MOTHER, — I should be dead to the
common feelings of a man did I not sympathize acutely
with the painful situation in which you are at this
moment placed, and still more so to those of a son, if I did
not, to the utmost of my power, endeavour to mitigate the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 363

sufferings of so kind and excellent a mother. I know not
in what manner I can at this moment best endeavour to
contribute towards this much desired end, than to assure
you, at once, of my earnest wish that you should remain
at the Abbey so long as you may desire to do so, con-
sidering all that is within and without it at your entire
service ; and further, should you find, at the year's end,
the provision my lamented father has made for you not
equal to the expenses of keeping it up, the deficiency shall
be made good by me. Our hearts, I am sure, are at
present too full to discuss such subjects in person, which
is the reason of my thus addressing you by letter ; but let
me entreat you, for the sake of my sisters, myself, and
your friends, to bear up with all your might against the
blow which has thus stricken you unawares and deprived
you of (I fear) all that has hitherto given a relish to the
pursuits and pleasures of the greater part of your life.
But be comforted. My reading has informed me that
there are three ways of bearing up against the ills and
misfortunes of life — indifference, philosophy, and religion.
The first forms no feature in your character ; the second
is a manly virtue, but, in the first transports of affliction,
of too stern an aspect to gain admittance to a woman's
breast ; it is in the third and last that you will find the
healing balm, and next to that in the affection and
gratitude of your daughters, the esteem of your friends,
and in the full assurance of the strict performance, not
only of what is now offered to you, but of every act of love
and duty on the part of — Your truly affectionate son,

" FRANCIS RABY.
" AMSTEAD, March 10, 18 — ."

It is said by a writer whose celebrity, perhaps, does no
great honour to the feelings of human nature, that, let a
man die amidst ever so many lamentations, if he could
rise again from his grave, after the lapse of a short period,
his reappearance upon earth would not be found to be
productive of unmingled satisfaction among his relations
and friends who had wept over his closing grave. But
we are happy to say our hero was not one of this class.
With an income already equal to all his wants, and all his
wishes ; with health and spirits, which gave the highest
zest to the enjoyment of them, what more could he desire ?
In fact, he may be said to have had but oiie wish not within

364 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

his means to gratify ; but, had anybody imagined that the
gratification of that wish, and the life of his excellent
lather, bore the most distant approach to an equality in
his well-balanced mind, he would have found himself
egregiously mistaken. However, the one thing having
been snatched away from him was no reason why he
should not avail himself of the other ; so, having become
tired of his parliamentary duties, for which he did not
consider himself qualified, he resigned his seat at the end
of the second session ; but having, as he thought, qualified
himself by experience in the field for the principal office
of a sportsman, he unhesitatingly accepted of one of the
best of the midland countries, which became vacant, by
the resignation of a noble lord, in the second year after his
father's decease.

The fine income he was now in the possession of rendered
pecuniary assistance unnecessary, and there was nothing
wanting to insure success to the new undertaking but —
what must always operate against that of all undertakings
— the benefit of experience. Frank Raby was a sportsman,
and in the truest acceptation of that term. He loved
hunting to his very soul ; he had studied it in its theory
as well as in the practice of it ; he understood it well in
all that related to the field ; but he had never been a
master of hounds, still less their huntsman. Like a
sensible man, then, he was anxious for instruction from
the best source, and consequently wrote the following
letter to the person whom he considered most able to
furnish him with it : —

" MELTON MOWBRAY, 18 — .

" MY DEAR SIR, — I have the following inducements to
impose a task upon you. First — the circumstance of your
pack having been the one with which I made my start
in the fox-hunting world ; secondly — your science and
experience in all that relates to fox-hunting ; thirdly —
your good-nature and kind-heartedness ; lastly, your zeal
for the welfare and credit of all that relates to the noble
science. A country, which you once hunted, is now
offered to me, and I feel disposed to take it ; nor is this all ;
I have flattered myself into the belief that I can hunt a
pack of foxhounds, and intend trying my hand at it.
What think you? Pray give me a candid answer, and,
if favourable to my views, I shall trespass on your

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 365

kindness for a little advice and instruction. By following
your precepts in part, it is possible I may succeed ; but, if
to the full extent, there would be little doubt of it.
Homer, you know (for you look into books as well as into
kennels), makes Achilles a clever fellow. ' No wonder,'
says Eustathius, ' he had Chiron for his tutor, and a
goddess for his mother.' For myself, I cannot claim such
high origin, but I have reason to hope that, te duce,
I may, sooner or later, fulfil the highest object of my
ambition — that of keeping and hunting a pack of foxhounds
with credit to myself, and satisfaction to my field. —
Believe me, dear Sir, faithfully yours,

" FRANCIS RABY."

The answer to this letter, received by return of post,
ran thus : —

"DEAR RABY, — I am always glad to hear of young
men of fortune wishing to keep foxhounds, and especially
when they have been well educated for the task, which I
consider you to have been, by not merely serving an
apprenticeship at Melton, but by having gone about the
country seeing all the best establishments, and, of course,
the best huntsmen. From reports that have reached me
of your performance in the field — I do not mean merely
riding to break your neck — I am proud to acknowledge
the compliment you pay me, of considering me as your
tutor, and it will give me much pleasure to offer you the
result of my experience as far as the management of
hounds both in the field and in the kennel ; but, mind
me, only as a master of hounds and a sportsman. I never
hunted hounds in my life ; it was not the fashion, in early
days, for gentlemen to fill the office of huntsman, which
was left to servile hands, and I do not think that, all
things considered, the noble science — as you call fox-
hunting— has gained much by the change. Gentlemen
have so many other pursuits in view, that I give the pre-
ference to the servant, who, we know, has none other, and
is, on that account, if a man of talent, more likely to
succeed. Besides, the situation of a huntsman is very
trying to the temper, and your ' gentleman ' too often flies
out, where the servant remains passive. However, as I
know you to be a devilish good-tempered fellow, and, I
have reason to believe, a thorough sportsman, there is no

366 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

harm in your trying the experiment of hunting your own
hounds ; forasmuch as, if it do not succeed, you can but
fall back on a substitute. All I will say now, then, is
that I will brush up my memory on some points, and give
you the result of my reminiscences and reflections at the
earliest period within my power. In the meantime,
believe me, truly yours,

"JoHX "\VARDE.
" To FRANCIS RABT, Esq., &c. &c."

In about a fortnight after the receipt of this friendly
letter, our hero was favoured with the following observa-
tions from his kind friend and preceptor : —

" I must start with your start. Do you purchase, or
get together a pack of your own ? I should recommend
the former at a liberal price. It will save you much
trouble, and be the cheapest plan in the end. If you
collect a pack — like Harlequin's snuff, a pinch out of every
man's box — have nothing to do but with kennels of the
highest character, for the better the hounds are, the less
bad, of course, will be the drafts, and vice versa. For
example, who would accept of a hound drafted from

C 's pack ? At all events, if you determine on forming

a pack by drafts from different kennels, don't fail pur-
chasing twice as many as you may require, for, depend on
it, one half of them will be useless. Ask yourself the
question — ' Who would draft good hounds 1 ' You are then
purchasing faults, which you may never again get rid of.
And do not trust to your eye ; I have had hundreds of
beautiful hounds, in my time, not worth one day's meal.
Indeed, it sometimes strikes me that, as hounds improve
in beauty, which they certainly do, they lose other more
necessary qualities. This is certainly the case, unless they
are bred from the very best blood. I conclude this part
of my subject, then, by assuring you that, if you attempt
to form a pack of foxhounds yourself, you must not,
clever fellow as you are, expect perfection under ten years,
and that makes a hole even in a young man's life. I can
only say it cost me that time to form what I considered a
steady and stout pack. Some sorts prove vicious, however
highly bred ; some unsound, some delicate ; and, foras-
much as it requires three years to find out the results of
any cross, how favourable soever may be the expectation
from it, the breeder of hounds is too often, if not working

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 367

in the dark, involved in uncertainties and perplexities to
no small amount. As is the case with breeding horses,
faults of generations back, on one side or the other, will
appear ; and with hounds, even should the cross suit the
first time, there is perplexity again ; the produce must be
three years old before their real goodness can be verified •
and their sire must be at least five or six, as no man would
breed from a hound much under three years' standing in
his work. Should the cross nick, however, spare no pains
to continue it, if circumstances will enable you to do so —
that is to say, if the dog and the bitch are within 500 miles-
of each other.

" Now the chief questions for your consideration are —
what constitutes a good, and what a faulty hound in his
work, and, afterwards, his shape and make. The pro-
perties of a good hound are soon told. He does his best
to find a fox ; throws his tongue when he is sure he has
found him, and not before ; gets away quickly with the
scent so along as it is forward ; stops and turns quickly
when it is not forward ; drives it to the end without dwell-
ing on it, or tiring ; is true to the line without being toa
eager to get to the head and guide the scent ; sticks to his
fox when he is sinking in a cover, let the cover be ever so-
strong, which proves his perseverance and stoutness ; quite
steady from riot in the field ; not jealous in his work ;
good-tempered in the kennel, of a vigorous constitution,,
and sound from head to foot.

" A friend of mine, speaking of the merits of hounds,,
has this curious though not unreasonable notion — ' It may
appear paradoxical,' he says, ' but it is nevertheless true,
that the (query, one) proof of a hound's goodness is, that
he is never remarkable during a run ; and there are many
good sportsmen who would prefer a hound of this nature
to one which is oftener seen at head than any of the rest.
Of course a hound that is not remarkable is never lastr
or where he should not be, but holds the line, and is what
is called by some, a good line-hunter, which is the criterion
of all goodness ; that is, if he drives a scent, too, without
dwelling on it.' We may certainly call a hound of this
description both good and highly useful in hunting a fox
to his death, but we cannot call him brilliant. As Beck-
ford says, 'it is the dash of the foxhound that dis-
tinguishes him, as it does the hero in the battle.' Besides,
this same friend thus defines the line-hunter : — ' A hound

368 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

which will not go a yard beyond the scent, and keeps the
pack right.' Now if a hound, with a superior nose and
steadiness, were to be conspicuous at the head, it strikes
me that he would be more likely to be efficient in driving
the scent, and guiding the pack right.

" Of the faults of hounds, if not the worst, the most
provoking of any is slackness. It reminds you of one
man taking a horse to water, whilst twenty cannot make
him drink. I had rather have to do with a wild hound
than a slack one. The two most acknowledged faults are
running mute and skirting. The first culprit sneaks away
with your fox, and foils the ground for the rest of the
pack should they chance to get on the line ; and the
second — although a proof of intellect, or rather, cunning —
is often the cause of much mischief, and always spoils the
business-like appearance of things, however good as to
extent or finish your run may be. There are, also, what
are called left-handed hounds — not exactly skirters, but
apt to run wide of the pack, perhaps waiting for a turn in
their faA-our, but leaving the rest of the pack to do the
principal Avork of the day. Keep none of these sorts, how-
ever good they may be (and often are they very good) in
other respects. Then in the contrary extreme to the mute
is the noisy hound, which speaks (as men sometimes speak)
without knowing why, that is to say, without the scent of
a fox, and often without any scent at all. He is a fit
candidate for the halter, as worthless. I need not, how-
ever, tell you, who have so often seen hounds going their
best pace, and over a country which enables them to hold
on that best pace for a longer time than most others, that
there are times when three parts of a pack run mute. On
occasions like these, however, no fault is to be found. It
is not in the power of a man to run and shout at the same
time ; at least, he is soon blown if he attempts it. Merely
wild young hounds often turn out well, with proper dis-
cipline and work ; but incurable hare-hunters, dwellers
in the scent, especially in covers after the body are away,
— those of delicate constitutions, together with the failings
before enumerated, ought never to be seen in your kennel ;
and, as these are the sort of hounds that chiefly come
under the denomination of drafts, it shows the difficulty
and labour, to say nothing of the expense, of forming a
pack on such a parent stock ; and, on the other hand, the
value of a really good pack, free from such a host of

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 369

culprits. Still I do not mean to condemn the purchasing
of drafted hounds, as I know several packs that have been
greatly benefited by a large draft from a well-established
kennel — some of which might have been put away for
very trifling faults ; others for the purpose of reducing
the establishment ; and, now and then, for the sake of
a good price offered by some wealthier person than the
breeder. Let me advise you, if you can accomplish it, to
secure the entire lot of young hounds, not put forward in
some well-established kennel. They are often rejected
for a slight reason, and often for no other than that the
entry is large enough without them.

" As respects shape and make, I need not say much on
those points to you who have been in the habit of seeing
so many good packs, nevertheless you shall have my
opinion, as promised. I have always been partial to
rather large hounds, provided they are free from lumber
and well put together, although I agree with the dogma
of the great sportsmen of the day, that ' the height of
a hound has nothing to do with his size,' — I should
rather say his power. I have found large hounds suit all
countries, which small ones do not, and they are generally
more docile than small ones. But I must have strength
and muscle combined, in proportion to size, with oblique
shoulders, but no flat sides : good loins, well let-down
thighs, widely-spread gaskins, well-put-on heads, straight
legs, and, of course, good feet. I have no objection to a
little rise in the loins, approaching to what is called the
wheel-back, for hilly countries, and ploughed ones, that
carry ; nor do I think much the worse of a hound if he
shows a LITTLE inclination to be what is called throaty.
I'll warrant he has a nose, but if he cannot go the pace
the nose is of no avail. I will, however, transcribe a few
lines, which I wrote some time back for my amusement,
on the subject of breeding hounds, and other matters
important to all owners of them :

" The breeding a pack of foxhounds to a pitch bordering
on perfection, is a task of no ordinary difficulty ; the
best proof of which is to be found in the comparatively
few sportsmen who have eminently succeeded in it, and
whose blood is in high esteem to this day. Not only
is every good quality to be regarded and, if possible,
obtained, but every fault or imperfection is to be
avoided ; and although the good qualities of foxhounds
24

370 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

are very soon reckoned, their faults, in shape and per-
formance, present a larger catalogue. Independently of
good shape, which combines strength with beauty, the
highest virtue in a foxhound is not merely the exquisite-
ness of his nose, but in his being true to the line his game
has gone, and a stout runner to the end of the chase. But
he must not only thus signalize himself in chase, he must
also be a patient hunter with a cold scent, and also with
the pack at fault. In short, to be a hard and stout runner
and a good hunter, and steady on the line, which ' a good
hunter' implies, constitute a perfect hound, when com-
bined with good form. Nose and stoutness, then, must
be principal objects in the breeder.

" The prevailing faults of hounds, too often innate, can
only be cured by education. The greatest of all are,
skirting, or not being true on the line, and throwing the
tongue improperly ; first, without a scent ; secondly, not
throwing it at all, or running mute ; and thirdly, on a
wrong scent, which is called running riot ; but the fault
of skirting, the greatest of all, is generally innate, and too
often incurable. Thus has the breeder of the foxhound
to guard against propensities as well as faults ; and it has
been justly observed that, of late years, the system of
hunting is so much improved — so much attention paid to
the condition of hounds, and their style of working, that
a master of hounds feels it as a reflection on his judgment
if one hound in his pack is detected in a fault.

" The selection of dog and bitch to breed from is a nice
point for a master of hounds or his huntsman to decide
upon ; but if he aim at excellence, he must keep his eye
on perfection. In no animal — not even in the horse — is
perfect symmetry so desirable — I may say necessary — as
in the foxhound, inasmuch as without it there is no
dependence on his services, however good may be his
nature. I will describe him, first, in the words of a very
old writer on those subjects, and afterwards in those of Mr.
Beckford, when it will appear that there is a strong re-
semblance in the portraits drawn by each. ' His head,'
says the former, 'ought to be of middle proportion, rather
long than round ; his nostrils wide ; his ears large ; his
back broad ; the fillets great ; the haunches large ; the
thighs well trussed ; the ham straight ; the tail big near
the reins, and slender towards the end ; the leg big ; the
sole of the foot dry, and formed like a fox's, with the

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 371

claws great.' The latter says — ' There are necessary points
in the shape of a hound which ought always to be attended
to ; for if he have not perfect symmetry, he will neither
run fast nor bear much work ; he has much to undergo,
and should have strength proportioned to it. Let his legs
be as straight as arrows ; his feet round, and not too
large ; his shoulders back ; his breast rather wide than
narrow ; his chest deep ; his back broad ; his head small ;
his neck thin ; his tail thick and brushy, and if he carry
it well, so much the better.' Now the hound that would
answer to either of these descriptions would disgrace no
man's kennel, and one resembling the latter would be an
ornament to it ; but, with regard to the former, it must
be borne in mind that it is from the pen of a sportsman
who wrote a century and a half ago, when there is reason
to believe, no animal in the form of the foxhound of the
present day was to be found in this or in any other country.
I am, however, disposed to think that there is much of the
real character of the foxhound in the description given by
the older writer, such as the long, rather than round, head ;
the wide nostrils (Pliny says they should be flat, solid, and
blunt), and the dry, fox-like foot. The 'boned back'
appears to spoil all, unless it means that gentle rise in the
loins, which many good judges approve of for hilly, and
especially ploughed countries, which ' carry,' as the term
is, after a slight frost, thereby adding much to the natural
weight of the hound. Beckford gives us the modern fox-
hound, and, in my opinion, perfect, with the exception of
the mention of one or two material points. ' His chest
should be deep,' he says, ' and his back broad ; ' but he has
omitted a point much thought of by modern sportsmen,
namely, the back ribs, which should also be deep, as in a
strong-bodied horse, of which we say, when so formed, that
he has a good ' spur place,' a point highly esteemed in him.
Nor is either of these writers sufficiently descriptive of the
hinder legs of the hound ; for, although the large haunch
and well-trussed thigh of the former denote power and
muscle, there is a length of thigh discernible in hounds of
first-rate form, which, like the well let-down hock of the
horse, gives them superiority of speed, and is also a great
security against laming themselves in leaping fences, which
they are more apt to do when they become blown, or
tired, and, consequently, weak. The fore-legs, 'straight
as arrows,' is an admirable illustration of perfection in

372 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

those parts, by Beckford ; for, as in a bow or bandy-legged
man, nothing is so disfiguring to a hound as his having
his elbows out, and it is also a great check to speed. In
some countries, the round cat-like foot is indispensable,
and it is agreeable to the eye in all ; but I would not
reject a well-shapen puppy in all other respects, for merely
somewhat of an open foot, provided his ankles or fetlocks
were good, a point I consider of the greatest importance
to all quadruped animals. The shoulders of the foxhound
should, especially, resemble those of a horse — oblique, but
at the same time, strong ; for a narrow-chested hound is
almost certain to be shaken by hard work, and conse-
quently, unlikely to endure beyond his third season.

"As Beckford recommends a small head, it may be
presumed the fashion on this point began to be changed in
his time, and has been since, I think, carried to rather too
great an excess, especially in one or two kennels of high
repute, in which small heads are become one of the leading
characteristics. For my part, I like some length of head
in the foxhound, not being able to divest myself of the
idea of a cross with the old-fashioned pointer when I see
him with a short head and a snubbed nose. Beckford also
says the neck should be thin. I should say, moderately
thin. I dislike a thin neck in any animal but a milch
cow and the stag; at the same time, I dislike a short,
thick neck in a hound. His neck should be moderately
long and moderately thick, with the muscles clearly
developed ; it should rise gracefully out of his shoulders,
with a slight curve, or crest, and, to completely satisfy
the eye, should be quite free from the exuberances of
flesh and rough hair on the lower side of it, called, by
kennel men, ' chitterlings,' or ' ruffles,' the hound hav-
ing them being termed throaty. There are, however,
numerous exceptions to this rule, as some of the best
hounds England ever saw have been throaty ; and
although I am aware that one individual instance will
prove neither the rule nor its exception, I can mention
Mr. Meynell's famous stallion hound, Guzman, who,
although throaty, was as good a foxhound as ever man
hallooed to, and the sire of many good ones. I agree with
Beckford that the stern of a foxhound should be thick
and moderately brushy ; and, if well carried, it is a great
ornament to him ; but there is one part of it which his
owner likes to see nearly deprived of its covering, and

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 373

that is its tip, which, when in that state, is an in-
fallible proof of his being a good and not a slack drawer
of covers, nor shy of facing the strongest of them in
chase.

" But to return to breeding the foxhound. In the
breeding of some animals, beauty of shape is often
dependent on the caprice of fashion, or the peculiar taste
of the breeder; but in the breeding of hounds no such
latitude can be given ; for here beauty, or true symmetry
of shape, is alone in reference to idility, and adaptation of
parts to the purposes to which they are to be applied. Yet the
breeder of foxhounds has one point further to go ; he
must, as I have already said, guard against propensities
which run in the blood of those animals, perhaps stronger
than their good qualities do, and will, sooner or later,
break out in their work, if they really exist. In the
election, then, of a dog for a bitch, or a bitch for a dog,
these matters must be most attentively considered ; and
no man should breed from hounds of either sex that come
under any or either of the following denominations, viz.,
not of a tolerably docile sort, but very difficult to be made
to enter to their game ; or guilty of any of the faults I
have already enumerated ; and, above all things, if found
evidently deficient in nose. Good constitution should
likewise be looked to carefully ; but I would not reject a
stallion hound, or a brood bitch, merely for being slack
drawers, or for not being always at the head in chase,
provided they were themselves well bred, of good form,
and true to the line in cover and out.

" As to the proper combination of form, that must be
self-evident to the breeder of hounds. If a bitch ia a
little high on her legs, or light, she should be put to a
short-legged, strong dog, and, of course, vice versa ; if
rather light in her tongue, that defect may also be
remedied by an opposite property in a dog. Defects in
legs and feet can only be remedied by such means ; and
fortunate is it for the owner of an otherwise perfect and
excellent bitch that such remedies are at hand. Length
and shortness of frame, when in excess, as well as coarse
points, are to be obviated and altered in the same way,
making allowance for the fact, that the laws of nature are
not invariable. Constitution can likewise be remedied by
having recourse to that which is good (and none so easily
detected as the dog's), and colour changed, if wished for.

374 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

It is, in fact, the judicious cross, as Bedford says, that
makes the pack complete ; and it was the remark of that
eminent sportsman of his day, that he saw no reason why
the breeding of hounds may not improve till improve-
ment can go no further. The question may be asked, Is
not his prediction verified ?

"But the act of crossing hounds, as, indeed, all other
animals, although never thoroughly divested of chance, is
one of more difficulty than most people would imagine,
and one which, by its results, would often baffle, if not
puzzle, the profoundest of our modern physiologists. I
cannot go at length into this intricate subject, but I have
reason to know that great mistakes have been made by
masters of foxhounds in breeding too much in-and-in
from near affinities, instead of having recourse to an alien
cross. This was peculiarly apparent in two packs of long
standing which I could name, which were bred too much
in-and-in — one from a favourite bitch and her produce,
and the other from a dog hound and his produce. It is
asserted, and with truth, that a pack of foxhounds, to be
perfect, should have the appearance and character of being
of one family : but this expression is not to be taken in
its literal construction. It is in the conformity of their
character and appearance that they should bear a close
resemblance to each other, and not in their close con-
sanguinity. In my own kennel, indeed, I have been too
partial to my own blood ; and I reluctantly admit that,
although I believe I may say my hounds are unrivalled
in fine form, I may trace a certain degree of slackness to
that cause. On the other hand, the rare but valuable
combination of dash and nose which has made the pack
of a certain Duke a match for the cold and somewhat
ungenial hills of Oxfordshire, are to be attributed to his
huntsman — one of the best breeders of hounds of his day
— going from home for his blood, and sending his bitches
to the celebrated stallion hounds of the best kennels
within his reach. This, however, it must be remembered,
is not within the command of every man's purse, the
expenses attendant on sending bitches to a distance,
under any circumstances, being heavy ; as they must not
only be placed under the care of a trusty servant, but
there are other occult charges which none but masters of
hounds are aware of. It is, however, a notorious fact,
that the produce of some stallion hounds, if they have

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 375

but a fair chance by the bitch, seldom fail in turning
out well, and transmitting their good qualities to many
succeeding generations.

" As to the size of hounds, various arguments are made
use of by the advocates of large and small ones. Those of
the former assert, that they get better across a deep and
strongly-fenced country than the smaller ones do ; whilst
the admirers of the latter insist upon their being better
climbers of hills, more active in cover, and quicker out of
it, when their fox is gone ; and are oftener found to be
more perfect in form and shape. As to strict uniformity
in size, how pleasing soever it may be to the eye, it is by
no means essential to the well-doing of hounds in the
field, and has been disregarded by some of our first
sportsmen — the great Meynell for one, who never drafted
a really good hound for being over or under the general
standard of his kennel. The great object of that eminent
sportsman — and such has been mine — was to breed them
with muscular power and bone, combined with as much
symmetry as could be obtained ; and to be equal in speed
and good qualities, rather than equal in height For
myself, I am anxious to see my dog hounds rise to
twenty-five inches, or more, and bitches from twenty-
three to twenty-four ; but such a standard is very difficult
to maintain ; and, after all, perhaps, it may be said of
hounds, as has been said of horses, that their height has
little to do with their size, as far, at least, as their powers
of action are concerned ; and I believe that, in all animals
that labour, a medium height is best.

" The amount of hounds to be bred annually will
depend on the average strength of your kennel, and the
number of days' hunting in the week, which the country
they are intended for requires. From sixty to eighty
couples of working hounds are as many as any man ought
to keep, being a complement for at least four days in the
week. This will require the breeding of as many couples
of puppies every year to allow for the usual diminution
of the entry, by malformation, under size, and that bane
to the kennel, the distemper, which often takes off a third
of them. As the period of gestation in bitches is some-
what over two calendar months, they should, if they can
be spared, be put to dog in January, as then they will
litter in the spring, when the weather is comparatively
warm, and the puppies will come early into kennel,

376 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

generally be of good size and powerful, and be entered
without loss of time.

" It is said that the dog, in a state of nature, is subject
to few diseases, and for those he finds his cure by an
instinctive faculty : in a domesticated state he is subject
to many, and some of an awful nature, which may be
classed amongst the opprobria medicorum, no certain
remedy being discovered for them. Amongst these is
one called ' distemper,' not known to our forefathers, but,
at present, become a sort of periodical disorder in kennels
of hounds, to the destruction of thousands of young ones
annually. The first symptoms of this disease are,
generally, a dry husky cough, want of appetite, and
consequent loss of flesh ; extreme dulness, and a running
from the eyes and nose. As the disease advances, it is
attended with distressing twitchings of the head and,
occasionally, of the whole frame, while the animal becomes
very weak in the loins and hinder extremities, and is
greatly emaciated ; convulsive fits, too, often close the
scene. For the cure of this disorder I venture not to
prescribe ; there is no specific, but the severity of the
disease may be diminished by lowering the system of
young hounds by gentle doses of salts when they first
come into kennel, and, to a great extent, successfully
guarded against by very great attention to their diet,
cleanliness, and exercise.

" With respect to the age of hounds, few are found in
a kennel after their eighth year, and still fewer after
their ninth ; and not many hard-working hounds can
' run up,' or keep pace with the rest, after their sixth
season. Hounds are in their prime in the third and
fourth year, but there are instances, rare ones, of their
hunting in their eleventh and twelfth. I should place
the average at four seasons. Old hounds are useful
in the field, but when they cannot run up they should
be drafted. The perfection of a pack consists in the
great body of it being composed of hounds quite in their
prime.

" I have always been partial to a good cry in hounds,
and listen to it with feelings not confined to fox-hunting.
Sounds, by association, become the signs of ideas, and the
great variety in the voice of nature must have been de-
signed to meet the peculiar tastes and purposes of the
countless multitudes that dwell on the face of the earth.

377

That the cry of hounds is a voluntary noise, proceeding
from a powerful organic impulse, is quite apparent, as is
also the purpose for which the impulse is given, namely,
to announce their having discovered the scent of an animal,
either obnoxious to their notice, or desirable as food ; and
also by calling their straggling companions together and
uniting their forces, the better to enable them to secure
their prey. On the other hand, here is mercy shown
to the prey they are in pursuit of. The tongue of the
hound gives notice of his approach ; and he does not
pounce upon his victim as the silent greyhound does,
which Gratius, in his poem on coursing, alludes to in the
following line : —

'Sic canis ilia suos taciturna supervenit hostes.'

" But the cry of hounds, melodious and heart-stirring
as it even now is, lias lost much of its poetical interest
from the change man has made in the natural organization
of the animal from which it proceeds ; and we shall never
again hear of a master of a pack, after the manner of
Addison's knight, returning a hound that had been givea
to him as an ' excellent bass,' whereas the note he wanted
was a 'counter tenor.' Beckford, however, was something
of the worthy knight's opinion on this point, for he says,
' If we attended more than we do to the variety of the notes
frequently to be met with in the tongues of hounds, it
might add greatly to the harmony of the pack.' This is
well in theory. The natural organization of the dog is
musical ; he is, in fact, a victim to musical sensibility,
and we may reasonably suppose that the notes of his
companions in the chase may be as pleasing to himself as
to his huntsman ; but I do not think a huntsman of this
day would draft a highly-bred and beautiful young bitch,
as good too as she looks to be, merely because her light
fox-hunting tongue might be somewhat drowned, and now
and then lost, in the general chorus of the pack. He
would rather say, ' Let every tongue be to a fox, and I
leave the rest to chance.' But on a good day for hearing
it (there is a wide difference in this respect), what natural
sound is more delightful and animating than that of
hounds in full cry, in the deep recesses of an echo-giving
wood 1 Neither would those writers who have availed
themselves of the beauty and sublimity which allusion to
sounds in nature stamp on their various compositions, have

378 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

at all descended from their eminence, if they had, like
Shakspeare, delighted as much in bringing the soul in
contact with such a sound as this as with the rolling of
thunder or the howlings of the storm.

" The situation of huntsman to a pack of foxhounds is
one of great responsibility, and, if the breeding as well as
hunting of them be left to him, a very arduous undertaking.
Nor does it end here. There is a great call for judgment
in feeding hounds to answer every purpose, such as long
draws, severe days, and, at the same time, to go the pace
without showing distress, and to come home at night with
their sterns up and looking fresh. Here variety of con-
stitution increases the difficulty ; for, to satisfy the eye,
hounds should look level in their condition, as well as
even in point of size. One hound will not bear to have
his belly more than half filled ; another will not fill his
when he may ; and still each must be made equal in
strength and wind to the other, to stand hard work, and
go the pace without showing distress. A huntsman must
have a very watchful eye over their condition, which will
be affected by work and weather ; and he must be patho-
logist enough to foresee and provide against the alterations
which such circumstances produce. He had need also to
be a physiologist to exercise a sound judgment in breeding
his hounds after a certain form and fashion, which are
absolutely essential to their doing well in their work, and
at the same time pleasing the eye. Then look at him
in the field with a hundred eyes upon him, and a hundred
tongues to canvass all his acts ! Here he should be a
philosopher, and the qualities given to him, by Beckford,
at once make him such.1

i " ' A good huntsman,' says Beckford, ' should be young, strong,
and active, bold and enterprising ; fond of the diversion, and inde-
fatigable in the pursuit of it ; he should be sensible and good-
tempered ; he ought also to be sober ; he should be exact, civil,
and cleanly ; he should be a good horseman, and a good groom ;
his voice should be strong and clear ; and he should have an eye so
quick as to perceive which of his hounds carry the scent when all
are running ; and should have so excellent an ear, as always to
distinguish the foremost hounds when he does not see them. He
should be quiet, patient, and without conceit. He should let his
hounds alone when they can hunt, and he should have genius to
assist them when they cannot.' Perhaps more than this cannot be
expected from humanity. Can we give a man higher qualifications
than a clear head, nice observation, undaunted courage, an accurate
ear, and a lynx's eye, together with a quick perception, endowed

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 379

" Without entering into the wide range of hunting, the
following maxims may be observed with advantage by a
huntsman : —

" In drawing for your fox don't be persuaded always to
draw up wind. In the first place, you are in danger of
chopping your fox ; secondly, he is almost sure then to go
down wind at starting ; and thirdly, you may drive him
into the worst part of your country, or from his point. (I
am, of course, supposing your pack to be quite steady,
otherwise drawing up wind is more desirable, as, should
any riot be going on down wind, the voice of the huntsman
will better reach the offenders.) When found, get after
him as quickly as possible, if you have a body of hounds
with you, if not, you will have a better chance of a run
if you wait a little until the body come up. This is easily

vrith ready impulses for acting so necessary to each? That he
should be fond of his profession and indefatigable in the pursuit
of it ; sober and exact, sensible and good-tempered. It is not
necessary that either a huntsman or a soldier should be a man of
letters ; some of the former have been scarcely able to read, and
there have been but few Csesars who could both fight and write ;
but a good and sound understanding is put to the test both by the
one and the other ; and each requires, in addition to such an
undertaking, a manly exertion of talent. With respect to gentle-
men-huntsmen, there cannot be a doubt that no man enjoys hunting
to perfection equally with him who hunts his own hounds ; nor can
there be any reason assigned why an educated gentleman should
not excel in any ardent and highly scientific pursuit, which hunting
is allowed to be, an uneducated servant. Nevertheless it does admit
of a doubt whether, throughout the fox-hunting world in general,
gentlemen-huntsmen have been so popular as might have been
expected ; and in a few countries that have been hunted by sub-
scription an exception has been taken against the master of the
pack being the huntsman. That it is a laborious office when
efficiently performed, both in the kennel and the field, is well
known to those who have tilled it ; but, labor ipse voluptas, a pains-
taking zeal is often displayed by the master, which has been want-
ing in the servant ; and it was the remark of a certain nobleman
that, after the first fox, his huntsman was more disposed to find his
dinner than a second. In a well known ' diary ' lately published,
a perfect huntsman is thus described : ' He should possess the
following qualifications : health, memory, decision, temper, and
patience, voice and sight, courage and spirits, perseverance and
activity,' which requisites a still later writer on the 'noble science'
seems to think are oftener found in the gentleman than the
servant. The first-named writer pithily observes, that, with the
attributes he awards to him, a huntsman will soon make a bad
pack a good one. If quick, he will make a slow pack quick ; if
slow, he will make a quick pack slow."

380 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

done, either by horn or halloo, if hounds are under good
command, and the convenient opportunity is seized upon,
and a whipper-in is in his right place. Keep near your
hounds in chase, with your eye on the body of the pack,
as well as on such as may be leading ; the body are more
certain to be right. Next to knowing where a fox is gone,
is knowing where he is not gone ; therefore in your casts
always make good the head. This you will do for your
satisfaction ; but hounds are seldom at fault for the scent
ahead, when the chase has been at all warm, that is, on a
fair scenting day ; for if the fox be gone forward wherefore
the fault 1 Good hounds will seldom or never leave a
scent ahead unless the ground be stained by sheep or
cattle, or when the chase leads over dry ploughed land,
hard and dry roads, and so forth. It is high odds that
your fox has turned to the right or to the left ; but,
although his point may be back, he cannot well run his
foil from the number of horsemen that are generally in
the rear of hounds. Recollect your first check is generally
the most fatal to sport, and for these reasons : your hounds
are fresh, and perhaps a little too eager ; they may have
overrun the scent for some distance, owing to having been
pressed upon by the horses, which are also at this time
fresh ; nor will they always get their heads down so soon
as they should do, from the same exciting causes. Again,
your check now generally arises from a short turn, the
fox having been previously forced from a point which he
now resolves to make ; and he will make it at all hazard
at certain times. When your hounds first throw up, leave
them alone if they can hunt ; but, disregarding what
some of the ' old ones' say on this subject, as inapplicable
to these faster times, don't be long before you take hold
of them, and assist them, if they cannot. I would not go
from scent to view ; yet hounds that will not bear lifting
are not worth having, for lifted they must be over stain
of sheep or cattle ; for, as Beckford observes, ' it is the
judicious encouraging of hounds to hunt, when they
cannot run, and the preventing their losing time by
hunting too much, that distinguish a good huntsman from
a bad one.' But do all this quietly as well as quickly.
Turn your horse's head towards the line you think your
fox is gone ; and the first moment you see all their heads
up, that is, if they do not hit him off, put your horn to
your mouth for one blast or two, and trot away to still

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 381

more likely points. If your pack will divide when casting,
so much the better ; but good hounds will be making
their own cast to a certain extent, whilst you are making
yours, by not keeping at your horse's heels, but spreading
as they go.

" When you have hit upon his point, if a single hound
goes off with a good scent, get the body to him as quickly
as you can ; but not so if the scent be warm. In the latter
case, your hounds will be in expectation of a fresh fox,
and will be in a hurry ; the hound that is forward will
be lifted, and, in all probability, you will have to seek for
the scent again. Go gently, and your hounds, if steady,
will settle to it. Likewise, if, when at check, you are
hallooed to a spot where a fox has been viewed, stand still,
and say nothing at the moment the first two or three
hounds throw their tongues. If you hurry the body on
immediately, the scent will often be lost should the fox
have been a few minutes gone. Again, when a fox has
been viewed, and you go directly to halloo, do not take
your hounds to the extreme distant point at which he was
viewed, but about a hundred yards behind it, and for this
reason : if you take them to the extreme point, and they
do not hit off the scent at once, you have then to make
your cast at a venture ; whereas, if you lay them on at
that distance behind it, you have somewhat of a guide
to that extent, as to the line to which you should draw
them.

" The following hints relate to hounds, either at fault,
or in difficulties. In trying back, hounds have this ad-
vantage. It is evident the fox has come the line up to
the point where the check occurred ; and he must be gone
either to the right or the left of it, or back. I make this
remark because so much has been said about the straight
running of foxes, which is far from true ; and the necessity
of persevering in the cast ahead with the fox, and back
on the foil with the hare. The more hounds spread
within reason in this backward cast, the better will be
the chance of making the cast a short one. Again, if at
check on a road or footpath (the latter not often run over
by foxes), when you observe some of your best hounds
failing to make it good on one side of either, it is reason-
able to suppose the fox is gone on the other. If your
hounds check in a cover in the middle of a run, and the
fox is viewed away from it, try and get your hounds

382 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

together as much as you can in the short time that can
be allowed for it, before you cap them to the scent. It
generally insures a good finish from two obvious causes.
First, your hounds get fresh wind ; and, secondly, they
will have a better chance to carry a good head, which
generally insures blood, and blood well earned ; for the
fox is more likely to stand longer and go straighter for
not having been viewed by hounds when he broke. But
the most difficult point for a huntsman to decide upon
promptly is, when his pack divides, which lot is on the
hunted fox. If it happen in cover, his ear is his surest
guide, as the cry is louder and stronger on a fresh-found
fox than on one which has been for some time on foot.
If, when out of cover, your pack should divide on two
separate scents, you should get as near as you can to what
you imagine to be the chase, giving view-halloos every
yard you go, also sending a whipper-in to stop the other
hounds. Your choice will doubtless be directed by several
circumstances. You will first look for your truest and
best line-hunting hounds, and next, to the points your first
fox would be likely to make for ; and if your choice fall
upon the lot that are going up the wind, the other will be
more likely to hear them running, and, should they come
to a check, to join cry again, perhaps before a whipper-in
can get to stop them.

" Do not be dispirited at a succession of bad sport, for
it is not within your control, good hounds and good sport
not being, as has been before observed, naturally co-existing
circumstances. Be as zealous as you please in the field,
but temper your zeal with judgment, and do not weary
your hounds by long draws on days which bid defiance
to sport. It was once justly observed, that those who seek
for pleasure from the chase must ask permission of Heaven,
and the case still remains the same. Hounds may be im-
proved in their form and physical powers, but they cannot
hunt without scent, and without it they resemble a man
trying to run fast in the dark ; neither can they make
head against such fearful obstructions ; and, on stormy
days, with a very high wind, you had better go home
after the first failure. It is not generally known what
mischief even one such unpropitious day does to some
hounds. Do not set too high a value on blood, unless it
has been well earned by your hounds ; it is the result of
want of reflection alone, that has set any value whatever

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 383

upon it, when otherwise obtained. Kill a good fox when-
ever you can ; it will satisfy your hounds, yourself, your
field, and the farmers. Mob a bad one in a corner if you
like; neither he nor his produce will show you any sport;
but never dig out a good one, unless your hounds have
almost viewed him into the spout or drain, which he has
got into, and you can bolt him before the excitement of
your hounds subsides. Never break ground in a country
belonging to another pack of hounds, nor dig for a fox in
a main earth in your own. Many a vixen fox, heavy with
young, has been killed by this means, in the spring, instead
of the one that was hunted and marked into it by the
pack ; and be assured that sportsmen do not estimate the
goodness of a pack of foxhounds by the noses nailed
against their kennel-door. Lastly, keep your field back
from pressing on your hounds in chase, and still more
so when in difficulties, as much as in you lies ; but do
not suffer your zeal to carry you too far on this point.
Remember the apostolic precept — Be courteous. Neither
approach too near the hounds yourself, when at fault, as
the steam from even one horse is perplexing to them.

" Beckford says that, ' although it is not necessary that
a huntsman should be a man of letters, it is necessary that
he should be a man of understanding.' This also applies
to a whipper-in ; and I am bound to say, I never saw a
steady pack of hounds without at least one good and
efficient man at this post ; but I have seen many of those
red-coated youths, who might have been better employed
at the plough's tail — who, after the manner of Cicero's
lawyer, belonged to the profession, but not to the science.
Beckford assigns to him the most important duties, and
leaves me but little to add. I merely recommend him,
when his huntsman is casting his hounds, to turn them
to him, when necessary, as gently as he can, compatible
with despatch, and with little noise ; by which means
they will draw towards him, trying for the scent as they
go ; whereas loud and repeated rates and cracks of the
whip make hounds fly to their huntsman at this time
with their heads up. When they are drawing properly
towards him, not another word need be said ; a whipper-
in merely riding outside of them will, or, at least, ought
to be sufficient.

" It is scarcely necessary to observe that a whipper-in
to foxhounds, to be perfect, should be an accomplished

384 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

horseman, as nothing requires a much nicer and firmer
hand than the act of following and overtaking a hound
over open ground, to flog him. A good whipper-in, how-
ever, will always hit a hound first, and rate him after-
wards, and be able to hit him hard when occasion requires
it. I deprecate the very idea of wanton cruelty towards
any animal, but a riotous foxhound must not be trifled
with, if he is to be cured, without the halter, of his evil
ways : let the lash, then, fall heavily when necessary, but
at no other times. Above all, a whipper-in must have an
eye to skirters ; skirting is the least pardonable fault
liounds can possess, because they are then deviating from
their nature, and have not the force of impulse to plead,
•which those which run riot after hares or deer have.
Great caution, however, is necessary in the use of the whip
to a young hound when on a scent. He may be right, in
•which case he may never forget the check he receives, and
be slack in his work for the rest of his life. As study
precedes practice, and fits us for it, let me call your
•attention to the following essential points, and remember
that we should not be content with mediocrity when per-
fection can be obtained: —

" You are about to take upon yourself a laborious and
difficult task, that of huntsman to your own pack, in a
•country frequented by many of the first sportsmen of the
day. I wish you may acquit yourself well ; but recollect
what Smollett says of historians — ' that the world has been
able to produce but six good ones ! ' and it may be said of
a huntsman that, in all his operations, he has not only to
exercise his mental faculties at every step he goes, when
unravelling the intricacies of the chase, but actually to
tread a path nearly unknown to human reason. Your
only chance to shine is, by availing yourself of your
experience of what you have found to be good in others ;
to attend to the suggestions of superior judgment on points
on which you are doubtful ; and to abandon all popular
but erroneous notions of the old school. By doing this,
I doubt not but the disciple will soon get beyond his
master.

" I now call your attention to a few essential points.
Your kennel is a sound one ; you need be under no
apprehension respecting kennel lameness, about which so
much has been said and written, and all to little purpose.
The whole secret is this — if the subsoil of the ground on

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 385

which your kennel is built is damp, your hounds will be
liable to rheumatism, and be lame ; and the more porous
the soil is, the more likely will it be for the damp to
ascend, for which reason, sandy soils, which appear to be
the driest, because they dry soonest after rain, are the
worst for the sites of kennels. Some attribute the malady
to several other causes, such as washing, dressing, &c. I
do not believe washing hounds has anything to do with it ;
although it is possible the injudicious use of sulphur in
dressing or physicking may. Madness I hope you will
never experience. One thing, however, I think you may
assure yourself of, namely, that your hounds will never
go mad spontaneously — that is to say, unkss from the bite
of a rabid dog. At least such is my opinion ; and it is
also the opinion of several veterinary surgeons, who are
now turning their attention to the diseases of dogs, as well
as those of horses. In case, then, of any hound in your
pack being bitten by a dog of whose state of health you
are ignorant, have him separated from the pack instantly
on seeing anything unusual in his appearance. Of all
other diseases, distemper excepted, cleanliness will be the
best preventive. As Somervile says —

' Much does health on cleanliness depend.'

" As for distemper, you must take your chance for that.
There appears to be no specific as yet found out ; but
acting on the prophylactic system has answered with me.
I give repeated mild doses of salts to my young hounds
when they first come up, and then, should they take the
distemper, the disease is less virulent, and oftener yields
to those medicines which are found to be partly efficacious.
Physicking and bleeding and dressing, after the season is
concluded — all of which are essential to the well-doing of
your pack — will be attended to by your kennel huntsman ;
all you have to do is, to see that they are properly per-
formed. During the moving of the coat is considered the
best time to dress.

" Over accidents you have no control ; rest is the best
doctor for strains of shoulder, stifle, &c. ; and the sharpest
astringents are to be applied to wounds in the feet, to
which hounds are so liable in their work. The most
efficient remedy for wounds was siipposed to lie in the
dog's own tongue ; but experience has proved it to be, in
many cases, injurious. Spaying bitches is recommended

386 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

by many ; and it is said that twenty couples of spayed
bitches would do the work of twenty-five or thirty
couples of open ones. Be it so ; still I do not recommend
the practice ; first, on account of the severity and danger
of the operation ; secondly, in that it deprives the
animal of perpetuating the excellent properties she might
possess. It is altogether a barbarous practice ; neither
should an operation of a similar nature be performed on a
dog hound, unless incurably quarrelsome in the kennel.

"Hounds, like horses, must be quite fit to go, or good
foxes will beat them. If you are to hunt your hounds
yourself, it must be yourself that must look to this point,
which must be accomplished long before the season
commences. In fact, it is by your summer work that
your hounds will be fitted for the winter's campaign.
But here you must depend upon your kennel huntsman,
inasmuch as you cannot be expected to be in the saddle at
four o'clock in the morning, at which hour your pack
ought to be out, during the hot months, and occasionally
kept out for seven or eight hours at a time, especially
towards the approach of cub-hunting. I do not suppose
you will always feed your hounds yourself, neither do I
think it absolutely necessary ; but everything depends
upon how it is done. Experience will convince you that,
whilst but few hounds in your kennel can be allowed to
eat their fill, there are many who must be fed to a
mouthful, and others enticed to feed, to render them
quite fit. It is on this account that, unless a gentlemaii-
huntsman always feeds in the hunting season, he had
better entrust it to other hands, guided by the result of
his observation of certain hounds in their work. If your
fixture is beyond ten or twelve miles from your kennel,
let your hounds (and horses) sleep out. They will be
fresher and stouter in their work the following day, and
decidedly better in a very sharp burst with their first fox,
as well as having more left in them for a good afternoon
fox, and he generally proves a good one — that is to say,
comparatively with the powers of his pursuers.

" Get your young hounds into kennel in good time ;
kennel food will improve their shape, and they will be
free from chances of accidents, as also of acquiring loose
habits. Remember that you will want a large kennel of
working hounds, and do not be in too great a hurry
to draft. At all events, you must put forward thirty

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 387

couples, which will allow for the ravages of the distemper,
should it attack them, and also admit of a second draft.
By no means enter your young hounds to hare. It is a
practice not founded in reason ; on the contrary, it is,
by opposing the natural propensities of the animal, after
having encouraged them, an unjustifiable exercise of our
dominion over him.

"You will, of course, go through the process of cub-
hunting. On this subject I have only to observe — begin
as soon as you can, and follow it up stoutly. Exclusive of
the necessity of entering and blooding your hounds, by
moving young foxes, you will make them safer from the
fox-takers ; and those which may be left in the country
will fly when found by your pack further on in the season.
But don't think too highly of blood further on in the
season. That it is desirable there cannot be a question,
when obtained by fair means, and well-deserved ; but
that it is essential to sport, I deny. "Weather admitting
of good scent is essential, if you please ; but I can name
one of the first packs in England which had the best week's
sport they ever had since they were a pack, after nine
days' hunting, without tasting blood. Staghounds rarely
taste blood, and what hounds run faster, or work harder ?

" It has been said that a run with foxhounds should
resemble a successful battle — that it should be 'sharp,
short, and decisive.' My idea of a truly good run is not
exactly this. I think it should be not less than an hour,
and with at least two checks. I mean to say, there should
be difficulties in the course of it, the overcoming of which
proclaims the credit of both hounds and huntsman. I
would divide it thus : — I would have twenty-five minutes,
best pace, with a right good scent. Next, a check well
recovered, but not until the hounds and horses had
recovered their wind, and, even then, I like seeing the
pack brought to hunting, but at a fair pace, for about
fifteen more minutes. I would now wish to see my fox well
hunted up to, and finish with running into him at the end
of the remaining twenty minutes, at very best pace. Runs
exceeding an hour are liable to two objections ; they are
tiresome to hounds and horses, and are not what is called
business-like. For my own part, I have always seen more
satisfaction expressed by my field, after a very smart burst
of half an hour, than at the end of a run which we may
call a journey.

388 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

" There are a few difficult points in hunting hounds, to
which it may not be amiss to call your attention. In
drawing covers, for example, you should observe the parts
most likely to hold a fox ; in fact, you should study your
country, as well as the science of hunting it. Foxes do
not generally prefer the most thick and dense part of a
wood for their kennel ; on the contrary, they often lie
near to the outside, and facing the morning or evening
sun, under the rays of which they much like to bask.
The art of distinguishing a fresh from a beaten fox, as
well as having a good eye to a heavy vixen, are requisites
in huntsmen, and to be acquired only by experience.
The being able to distinguish what is called a moving
scent — that is, the scent of a disturbed fox— from a drag,
is also to be acquired by the same means — that said thing,
called 'experience.'

" I like to see a huntsman alive and stirring, as well as
his hounds, when he enters a cover to draw for his fox.
Homer compares hounds cheered by their huntsman, to
troops encouraged by a general. There certainly is
something very cheering to the field in the ' cheering
halloo ' of a huntsman, and it is useful as well. Should a
hound get wide of the pack, or hang behind in the cover ;
or should any of the field be at a loss, which often happens
in woodlands, ' the pipe ' of the huntsman is an unerring
guide to all. How necessary is it, then — at all events,
how desirable — that, like Ajax, he should be ftoljv dyados,
renowned for strength of voice, and, we may add, for the
melodiousness of it. He should likewise blow a horn
well ; and if he varies the blast, to make himself more
intelligible to his hounds, he will find his account in it.
I wonder why this is not more practised than it is. In-
dependently of the common recheat, why not have the
' view-horn,' as well as the ' view-halloo ? ' Too much
horn, however, is to be condemned, having a tendency to
make hounds disregard it ; still a huntsman would be
sadly at a loss without it, not only in getting hounds
away from cover and in chase, but in bringing them over
to him, when drawing large covers.

"As regards the use of the voice, the following hints
may be useful to you : — Never halloo unless you have a
good reason for doing so. A constant and indiscriminate
use of the voice is blamable in a huntsman, inasmuch as
his hounds, by constantly hearing it, will pay but little

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 389

attention to it. Hallooing to hounds is highly useful
when done with judgment, but it must be done with
caution. Never cap your hounds, with halloas, to a bad
scent ; it makes them wild and eager, and never should be
done but when the scent is good. Hounds cannot be
brought up too quietly to a cold scent. With respect to
your field hallooing, I have no objection to a little of that
under certain circumstances. No one should halloo if he
is behind hounds ; but if a man, who knows what hunting
is, happens to be well up with the pack when they are on
good terms with their fox, a cheering halloo may do no
harm ; the hounds will not attend to it, and it is ex-
pressive of the pleasure of the hallooer. The huntsman,
however, who is endowed by nature with a clear, sonorous
voice, in a well-pitched key, and knows how to use it
with effect, contributes to the enthusiasm of fox-hunting,
and, consequently, to the success of it.

" Earth-stopping is best done by at once stopping all
main earths, having first stunk them out, as the term is,
by brimstone matches, &c., so as to prevent the chance of
having foxes stopped in them. It is by the knowledge of
main earths to fox-stealers that foxes are taken ; and if
all main earths in England and elsewhere were destroyed,
there would be more foxes and better runs.

" If one vixen fox can lay and bring up her litter above
ground, why cannot another ? And is it not proverbial
that what are called stub-bred foxes are generally stoutest
runners ? In the summer, let your whippers-in go about
and discover the mouths of drains, and have them staked.
Iron gratings will be stolen, and stakes will last two
years.

u Although I am of opinion that foxes do not destroy
game nearly to the extent which is laid to their charge,
.-till, as the preservation of it is now become so fashionable,
you must open your purse to the keepers within your
country, and a dinner to them, annually, with your
huntsman in the chair, will go a great way in procuring
their respect and good-will. It is stated, indeed, on good
practical authority, that, by opening the racks in covers,
during cub-hunting, and early in the season, a pack of
foxhounds help to preserve game, by destroying the
facility of its being snared in the unopened racks. A few
sovereigns, thrown amongst under-keepers in the course
of the season, have a very good effect in preventing blank

390 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

days. However, to make assurance doubly sure, when a
litter of cubs is known to be on dangerous ground, let
them be moved, by stinking the mouth of the earth, when
the vixen will carry them off. As to purchasing foxes,
that expedient need not be resorted to in your country :
it is a bad system altogether, the greater part of them
being mangy.

" Draw your covers closely, especially those of gorse,
with which your country abounds. I have seen foxes left
in them, frequently, after hounds have been drawing for
at least half an hour. They lie very close in such places,
and, even when found, are often difficult to force out of
them, by reason of the ground becoming stained, if a ring
or two is taken. Be sure you do not omit drawing your
outlying covers regularly at stated periods of the season,
and always throw off near the place fixed. It may not
matter to many of your field whether or not they may
have to trot away four or five miles before you begin
drawing ; but farmers and others, who have very short
studs — perhaps only one hunter — are much discomfited
by it. A brother master of hounds fixes for three weeks
in advance, which renders his hunt popular ; but it is not
every country that will admit of it.

"Should you have occasion to make gorse covers,
observe these hints from one who has made many. The
ground is all the better for being trenched to the depth of
from a foot to a foot and a half ; and it should be made
as clean and in as good condition as if it were to be the
seed-bed of turnips. The seed should also be minutely
examined, as it often fails from having lost its germinat-
ing properties ; and it should be drilled in the ground
and hoed, after the manner of a turnip crop. By keeping
it clean by the hoe, it will, if the seed be good, and the
land made dry, often hold a fox in the second year, but
will seldom fail in the third. A brother master of hounds
recommends sowing broom with gorse, but he is wrong, it
being decidedly inimical to scent. All artificially made
covers should be not nearer than half a mile, at the least,
to any house or village ; and if on a gently sloping bank,
facing the south, or south-west, foxes will like them the
better.

" Bred up as you have been, it is scarcely necessary to
remind you of your general conduct towards your field,
composed, as it will be, of some of the first sportsmen in

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 391

thu world, as well as others of all descriptions. The
management of a field is no easy task, and, in one respect,
resembles that of a community. In reference to the
latter, a celebrated Roman historian, Dion Cassius, says —
' The times are bad when men are not permitted to do
what they please, and worse when they are permitted to
do everything they please.' Thus it is with men who
attend hounds ; they must be kept within some bounds,
and in the mode of doing it lies the difficulty. As ' a soft
answer turneth away wrath,' so, perhaps, a gentle rebuke
to a too-forward rider, at certain times, has more effect
than a coarser expression. The more popular a master of
foxhounds is, the better sport will he have, because every-
one will endeavour to promote it — I should, perhaps,
rather have said, no one will wilfully mar it. As,
however, next to destroyers of foxes, the greatest spoilers
of sport are hard but injudicious riders, if ever you have
occasion to address them, you might avail yourself of
the following words, from the pen of an eminent sports-
man : —

"'A good sportsman will, as often as possible, ride
parallel with the pack, not after them, unless, by short
turns, he is obliged to do otherwise ; by these means he
can see everything that is going on, and anticipate the
probable cause of the hounds coming to a fault. For
example, a village, a farmhouse, a team at plough, men at
work, sheep, and, above all, cattle, are the things most
likely to impede the scent. When any of these objects
present themselves in the face of hounds, you may then
anticipate a check, and by pulling up your horse, and
observing which way the pack inclined before the check,
their huntsman will be able to hold them on in the most
likely direction to hit off the scent again.' And you
yourself, as huntsman, will obtain a lesson here. If
casting is necessary, you should be directed by the pace
or degree of scent which you brought to the place where
your hounds threw up ; for if you came quickly, and
your hounds are not blown (be sure attend to that), you
make a quick cast in the direction towards which they
were inclining, by forming a small circle first, and a
larger one afterwards, if you are not successful with the
first ; but if your hounds are blown, you should invariably
cast them very quietly, and hold them back, for when
hounds have run hard for a long way, they lose their

392 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

noses for want of wind, and run beyond the scent,
especially if there is water in their view. In a fair
country, and with hounds in good condition, it is my
opinion that, if the foregoing observations are carried into
effect, few foxes would escape. Patience is a great per-
former in the chase. All hounds, in these times, are well
enough bred ; and all hounds have power enough (if
judiciously handled), to kill a good fox.

" Treat your servants well, and, if you have fault to
find with their performance, rebuke them mildly in the
field, and lecture them afterwards in private. The sub-
mission of inferiors is not enough ; their hearts must be
won ; and I had rather witness human weakness than
human insensibility at any time, which latter propensity
every man displays who wounds the feelings of a servant
on every slight occasion, and this in the presence of his
superiors. As has been beautifully said, ' although a
servant, tiie spirit of a man is in him ; severity and rigour
may create fear, but can never command regard.'

" As regards the treatment of your horses, I need not
say much, still less instruct you how to ride them. I
would recommend you to breed your hunters, and, after
the method adopted by a friend of mine in Devonshire,
have them perfected in fencing during their colthood. It
is owing to the practice of the young horses of Ireland
scampering across the country in their colthood, that they
are such good fencers as we find them, unless it be at
timber, at which they have no practice. But my friend's
plan is this : he has every description of fence in a
circular space of ground, over which his colts are driven,
being held by a long cord by a man standing on a stage
in the centre, turning as they turn, by which means they
cannot refuse their leaps. Another eminent sportsman l
goes a different and perhaps better way to work. As
soon as his colts are weaned, and turned in a paddock, a
slight fence, about the height of their knees, is placed in
front of the shed in which they have their corn. When
they are quite used to walking over this, the fence is
raised six inches or more, sufficient to make them rear
up, and get their forelegs over, and they will soon find it
easier to jump, than to draw over their hind legs. When
they do this freely, the fence is raised still higher, till
they are obliged to make a good standing leap over it
1 See " Diary of a Himtsman."

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 393

every time they go into the shed to be fed, &c. This last
should be a single rail. When they are perfect at this,
which they will be in the course of a month, let a ditch
be digged, with the earth thrown up for a bank, instead
of the rail, or by the side of it, which rail should be made
higher, to prevent his preferring it to the ditch. They will
at first walk into the ditch, then get their forelegs on
the bank, and the hinder legs on the other side of the
ditch ; but, in the course of a day or two, they will
quietly jump on the bank. After being perfect in this,
another ditch is cut on the other side of the bank, and
they will jump on and off, in a few days, as well as any
hunter.

" The same eminent sportsman has given a useful hint
on riding to hounds, which particularly applies to your
country. ' In the grass countries,' he says, ' where the
fences consist of live quicks and thorns, you will do well
to notice, when a hedge is cut, which way it is laid down
to the top, and put your horse at it obliquely, with his
head from the root of the thorn, and the top of the thorn
being weak will give way to the horse's legs ; but if he
goes straight against it, he stands a good chance of a fall ;
and if he goes obliquely, on the contrary plan, he reduces
his fall to a certainty, should the horse not clear any
strong plasher which rises when the horse's knees are
under it, but not so the other way.'

" Take the advice of an old sportsman, and do not
trespass too far on the willing powers of your horses.
Rather than insist upon their coming home, when showing
evident signs of distress, let them remain at some village
for the night, leaving a whipper - in in attendance.
Hundreds of good hunters have been destroyed by the
neglect of this mere act of humanity towards exhausted
nature in a noble and willing animal.

" On the subject of scent, 1 shall say nothing at present.
Few subjects ever excited more speculation, or the exercise
of more reasoning theory, than the one in question ; but,
like the peasant of the Alps, who looked abroad for
happiness, we do not appear to have acquired anything
satisfactory by the search. Harsh, drying winds, or im-
pending storms, appear to be the greatest obstacles to
hounds working, but in the face of all other apparently
unfavourable circumstances, brilliant runs have been
experienced. Of its fleeting nature, perhaps the most

394 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

remarkable instance was related to me by a brother
master of hounds, on whose veracity I can depend. He
lost his fox at eleven o'clock, A.M. At two o'clock, P.M.,
he passed the place on his road home, and was told that
his fox had passed a certain gateway.

" ' Impossible,' said his huntsman, ' for we tried that
point.'

" ' I saw him,' said a man at plough.

" ' And so did I,' added his fellow-servant.

" Sure enough the scent was there, and spoken to by
half the pack, although too weak to carry on the chase
beyond the next field. After this, who can speculate on
the certainty or uncertainty of scent ?

" As regards the strength of your establishment, it ma}'
be considered presumptuous my dictating to you on that
point ; but let me recommend you to have an eye to
moderation in your kennel and stable. I consider four
days a week as much as any man should hunt hounds,
and it is also the best arrangement as regards his kennel,
inasmuch as he then divides it into packs which, for the
most part, work together. By thus becoming acquainted
with each other, they work steadier and better, and
occasion the death instead of the loss of many a stout fox.
Seventy couples of good working hounds will suffice ; and,
unless some unforeseen, untoward circumstances arise, you
will never have occasion to add to this amount. Of horses
I would allow you quite a full complement ; first, on the
score of your country, which requires a strong stable ;
secondly, because it also requires that things should be
done in a first-rate style. I should say, then, that you
should have fourteen horses for your own riding, and
twelve for the use of your whippers-in. Let the latter be
horses of power, but with sufficient breeding for your
country ; strong horses not only last longer than slight
ones, but they are not so liable to being lamed at fences
by the superior strength of their muscles, and the firmer
texture of their skin. As to the mixture or separation of
the sexes of the hounds in the field, there are so many
opinions on the subject, that I scarcely like to hazard
mine. There is an objection against all bitches in the
pack in a woodland country, in the inferior power of
their tongues ; but that will not operate with you ; and
it is contended that, although quicker and readier in their
work than dog hounds, they are not so patient in difficul-

THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 395

ties. The safer plan, then, may be to mix the sexes in the
field. This will about balance the account. I would,
however, advise you to have more bitches than dogs in
your kennel, with a view to future proceedings."

We must now bring this tale to an end. Our hero
established himself as a master of foxhounds in one of the
best countries in England, hunting them himself with the
greatest satisfaction to his field, and being generally con-
sidered one of the most popular of his class. Availing
himself of his own experience as a sportsman, and also of
the suggestions of those who had long preceded him in
his calling, he distinguished himself as a huntsman before
the closing of his second season, and the fame and reputa-
tion of " RABY'S HOUNDS " filled all the houses and stables
in their country. His private character, likewise, was in
no less esteem. Observant of all the relations of social
life, he gained the approbation of the good ; his example
went far towards reclaiming the evil propensities of the
bad ; and in the narrower sphere of private friendship,
society cannot often produce a better specimen of this
princely virtue than that exhibited by Frank Raby.
That he never entered into the married state may excite
surprise, but he had more than once been heard to assign
his reasons for remaining single. In the first place, he
was unwilling to disturb his excellent mother in the en-
joyment of Amstead Abbey as her home, and she lived
until he had passed his fortieth year. Secondly, although
he acknowledged the truth of the assertion, that the heart
of man is like a creeping plant, which withers unless it
have something round which it can entwine, he had im-
bibed the notion, and much that he had seen and heard
unfortunately tended to confirm it, that a man devoted,
like himself, to the sports of the field, was scarcely fitted
for the married state.

" Not one woman in fifty," he would say, " is a suitable
wife for such a man, and that one it might not have been
my luck to find."

Then, although far from being insensible to female
charms, he was somewhat mistrustful of the duration of
their power ; and the following couplet was often on his
tongue, when matrimony and its joys became the subject
of discourse :

" Love may expire ; the gay, the happy dream
May turn to scorn, indifference, or esteem."

396 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN

At all events he remains a bachelor, and the question
will be asked, " Who is to inherit the family estates at his
decease ? " This is answered in a few words. A younger
brother of his father's, not hitherto mentioned in these
pages, has three sons, and to the eldest of them will the
entail be continued. But why has he not been mentioned ]
For the simple reason, that his residence has been in
India since his twentieth year, and his reason for having
made it such, was the honourable feeling that an im-
prudent marriage, as regarded station in life, had, as he
imagined, rendered him somewhat obnoxious to the rest
of his family. Imprudent it might have been, inasmuch
as it dropped him a degree in the nicely-balanced general
scale of refined society, in other words, to a certain extent
he had lost caste ; unhappy, it was not, for a better wife
no man possessed, and it is more than probable that this
very circumstance may have had some weight in the
breast of his kind-hearted nephew, in determining him to
continue in the single state. At all events, a bachelor he
remains, and rather an old one at present ; but his house
is occasionally the resort of all the best families in the
neighbourhood ; and, by his general conduct and deport-
ment to all classes of persons, he shows, beyond the power
of refutation, that it is possible for a gentleman to devote
himself, with enthusiasm, to all the sports of flood and
field, simultaneously with the performance of all the
duties imposed upon him, both by God and man.

FINIS

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