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THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 A S PO RTS MAN 
 
 BY NIMROD. 
 
 " 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE LIFE OF JOHN MYTTON, ESQ.," "HUNTING REMINISCENCES," 
 "HUNTING TOUR IN THE NORTH," &C. 
 
 IhirtB-dgltt (Mcwreb 
 
 BY HENRY ALKEN 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, 
 AND L. C. GENT. 
 
 1874. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY J. OGDKN AND CO., 
 172, ST. JOHN STREET, E.C. 
 
AL 
 
 187? 
 
 PBEFACE 
 
 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 pos- 
 sible of those of the best description, 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 examplars 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 tastes 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 judges ; 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 the most 
 eminent sportsmen of their day, both by " flood and field." 
 
 It would be unfaithful to nature, and, therefore, unworthy of my 
 pen, were I to represent my young hero as totally guiltless of those 
 common failings to which inexperienced youth is, for the most part, 
 liable ; but I have taken especial care to keep him clear of all vicious 
 propensities 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 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 natural to ingenuous youth i but rescue him, in due time, partly by 
 his own proper principles, and also by the timely assistance of a faith- 
 ful 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 con- 
 siderable 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 of a sportsman, I make my hero commence with 
 the lowest branches of the art, of which ratcatching 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 Leicester- 
 shire 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 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 position. 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 Cro3sus 
 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 proportion 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 mo to 
 believe that it will continue to uphold fox-hunting as the pride and 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 boast of all our national pastimes. We, however, do occasionally hear 
 unpleasant forebodings to the contrary. " Railroads," 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 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 I 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, there- 
 fore, 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 accom- 
 plished 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, 
 however, 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 conformity 
 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 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 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 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 pueris absinthia tetra medentes 
 dim dare conantur, prius oras pocula circuin 
 Contingunt mellis dulci flavoque liquore." 
 
 NlMROD. 
 June 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 combining 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 corroborative of the adage, that " as the twig is bent, the 
 tree's inclined " . ......... 65 
 
 V. Christmas at the seat of " a fine old English gentleman," with its 
 appropriate accompaniments good company, good cheer, and 
 good sport .......... 79 
 
 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 89 
 
 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 ......... 110 
 
 VIII. Rural life in hall and field ; a ball and a wound (consequences alike 
 
 common in love and war) ........ 139 
 
 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 . . . .154 
 
 X. Our sportsman has now entered in earnest upon his life. He refuses 
 a seat in Parliament, and studies his craft with enthusiasm, open, 
 ing his first regular hunting campaign with the Warwickshire, 
 under the celebrated Mr. Corbet, and the Pytchley, under the 
 great John Warde 169 
 
 XI. The dbut in Leicestershire Frank Raby hunts with the Quorn 
 under Lord Sefton, with Lord Lonsdale's, and with the Duke of 
 Rutland's hounds . 186 
 
 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 . 204 
 
 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 " . . . . 224 
 
 XIV. A few words on summering hunters. Mr. Corbet's country and 
 
 men, and the finish of the season with the Atherstone . . 250 
 
 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 . ....... 269 
 
 XVI. The B.D.C. and B.C.M. Our sportsman makes a tour, in which he 
 visits many of the most celebrated fox-hunting establishments in 
 England . . . 316 
 
 XVIT. 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 ...... 362 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Amstead Abbey .......... Frontispiece. 
 
 Emblematic Title " The Life of a Sportsman " . . . .To face ditto. 
 
 " Yoicks ! Tally-ho ! Look out for the pastry " Page 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 first step to the coach box ......... 70 
 
 The Prince of Wales Birmingham coach 76 
 
 " H. for Windsor ; go along, Bob !" . 81 
 
 " Never mind 'em, they won't hurt ! " . . ... . . .91 
 
 Bibury meeting in its palmy days . . ... . . . .98 
 
 The tandem 100 
 
 " All Captain Askham's, sir " 119 
 
 " He is among the dead " 122 
 
 Flapper-shooting on the great lake in the Park 149 
 
 " Mr. Ridgeways' good health now " . . 153 
 
 The dbut, or first attempt at the brush 178 
 
 "Follow my leader" 196 
 
 A meet with his Grace the Duke of Rutland 200 
 
 A night scene with Sir Thomas Mostyn 226 
 
 " Not Handel's sweet music more pleases the ear, ) 230 
 
 Than that of the hounds in full cry " ( 
 
 " The check " " For a moment a sheep-foil now baffles the scent " . . 261 
 
 The four-in-hand 294 
 
 The three teams 302 
 
 The race for the Welter Stakes . . .326 
 
 " Fox-hunting for ever ! " 336 
 
 Mr. Musters hunted by his hounds . ....... 351 
 
 Our hero's first run with his own hounds ....... 401 
 
 " The Master of the Raby Hunt, one eheer more " . . ' . . 402 
 
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." 
 
 IN 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 parch- 
 ment 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 compara- 
 tively 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 architectural 
 
2 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 ornaments without, and containing elegant and spacious apart- 
 ments 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 prin- 
 ciples, 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 ; ex- 
 perience, 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 number 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. 
 K-aby 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 who could bring a message 
 
THE LIFE OP A SPORTSMAN. 3 
 
 into a room, or an tmder-bntler 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. Baby'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 of 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 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, with- 
 out 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. Eaby 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. 
 
 As procrastination is the thief of time, payment delayed is a 
 
4 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Kaby, 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 a 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 paved five hundred 
 pounds per annum, which about paid his wine-merchant's bill. 
 It is scarcely necessary to add that, exclusive of any other 
 consideration, this punctuality in the disbursement of a large 
 income rendered Mr. Baby very popular in his neighbourhood ; 
 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 land- 
 lord, 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 such a responsible 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. Eaby 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 LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 5 
 
 the 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, but his who enjoys 
 it ; " and he acted up to the moral of it. " Lcetus aliis, 
 sapiens sibi" he loved to see his friends enjoying themselves 
 by his means ; and, as regarded himself, his object was to 
 gather the rose and leave the thorn behind. 
 
 Mr. Baby, 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 countries. And well might they be 
 such, for the breed had been preserved and improved upon, for 
 more than half a century, by his father and himself; and, 
 from the number of walks lie 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 limiting establishment was perfect; and, 
 as regarded horses, at lea<jt, 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 keimel. 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 dinicult 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 of these animals, in 
 
6 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ; beautifully 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 foxhounds. 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 
 extraordinary 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. Kaby, on his return home, he himself having left in a 
 moment of despair. " I persevered, sir, and killed her," was 
 the general reply. 
 
 Mr. Baby pursued one practice connected with his hunting, 
 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 place, 
 although an elegant horseman, and an excellent judge of the 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 7 
 
 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 nume- 
 rous 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 fox- 
 hounds 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 dis- 
 obedience of orders. 
 
 Neither was Mr. Eaby a racing man. To speak the truth, 
 although quiet, 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 per- 
 fect 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. Kaby'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,* a range of pastures sacred to the repose of these 
 pensioners on his bounty, in which they enjoyed themselves in 
 perfect freedom from labour, and in full supply of all that old 
 
 * The Viscount Kelburne. 
 
8 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Baby 
 took a pleasure in exhibiting these pensioners to his friends. 
 " These animals have been all valuable servants 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 extra- 
 ordinary 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 hunts- 
 man, who took a fancy to her; and, although, as you will per- 
 ceive, 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 Eclipse, who 
 covered mares New Forest ponies amongst them, of course 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 9 
 
 at the low price of one guinea. In her best days, it was 
 difficult to blow jfchis 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. Kaby, that of his lady 
 shall follow, and a few words will suffice. It has already been 
 said that Lady Charlotte Eaby 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 husband. Neither did she look back with regret towards 
 the theatre of her early life, in which her charms and accom- 
 plishments 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 gentle- 
 man, 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 at the ball- 
 room 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 cst." In 
 other words, she might have added this postcript to her answers 
 to the letters of her London correspondents, who transmitted 
 to her the doings of the gay world : What you look for else- 
 where, I find here. 
 
 There was, however, one feature in the amiable lady's 
 character which I am unwilling not to exhibit to my readers. 
 It too often happens that highly-bred women, who emerge from 
 
10 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 hold- 
 ing 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 clergy- 
 men of whom John Bull was once wont to be so proud, and to 
 whom obedience and tithes were paid without a murmur. En- 
 abled, 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 congrega- 
 tion 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 Boss;" 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 of his neighbourhood. 
 The clerk, however, like his rector, was much respected in his 
 own village, where he was considered a man of no mean ac- 
 complishments, inasmuch as, exclusively of his sacred avoca- 
 tion, he was both a shoemaker and a schoolmaster, which 
 induced a wag to indite this couplet over his door : 
 
 John Wells' trades are throe 
 Cobbler, clerk, and domine ! 
 
 The mention of one more person is essential to the develop- 
 ment of my tale Mr. Beaumont Kaby, brother to the Squire 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 11 
 
 of Amstead, but of very different habits and pursuits. In the 
 first place he was not a sportsman ; and this for reasons in- 
 dependent 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 without stuffing. Again his health 
 was not good. He had incurred some of the penalties attend- 
 ant on idleness and high feeding ; but he equalled his brother 
 in kindheartedness and good feeling, and exceeded him in 
 accomplishments, 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 remark- 
 able 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. Eaby con- 
 sisted of four two sons and two daughters all of whom 
 lived to attain their majority: Francis, the second 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 
 
12 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 begin- 
 ning is not within the scope of human power, there was some- 
 thing about this bo}% 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 f< >und 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 shows 
 the day, it was evident that Francis Eaby was to be a sports- 
 man. 
 
 As may be imagined from their situation in life, Francis 
 Eab} 7 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 differcth from another 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 cotild 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 have 
 a beginning ; and what may be called the sporting career of 
 Francis Eaby commenced about his tenth year, when he became 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 13 
 
 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 leapt 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. Eaby know of this 
 cat-killing propensity? and, if so, did he encourage it? 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 preposterous 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 pur- 
 pose, 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 ex- 
 pert in his calling. 
 
 As similarity of taste inspires regard, Frank, as he progressed 
 in years, formed a strong alliance with one 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 
 
14 THE LIFE OP A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 for the house, of which they were not a little proud, as there 
 was no great abundance of them on the estate Mr. Eaby 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 it 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 supe- 
 riority of Jem's knowledge in these matters, as well as having the 
 advantage in years, Frank looked up to him as his chief precep- 
 tor 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 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, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 15 
 
 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 Eoman nobility and gentry, scarcely a day, he 
 found, passed without their practising bodily exercises in the 
 gymnasium the use of the caestus among the number ; and, 
 to his surprise, he learned that even the love of gladiatorial 
 shows amongst the Eomans increased as they progressed in 
 civilization, and their manners became more refined; and 
 that such exhibitions flourished 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. Eaby, 
 however, was no patron of pugilism. His duties as a magis- 
 trate forbade it ; still, as conducted in those days, he was 
 rather favourably inclined towards it than otherwise. 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 conflicts between animals, on 
 the courage of the people ; at the same 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 
 
16 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 country- 
 men, 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 have been, many honorable 
 exceptions. They partake, indeed," he would say, " of some 
 of the obloquy that attached to the Eoman gladiators, 
 humorously set forth in a Greek epigram on a bad tenant, 
 from the pen of Palladus, which has been thus translated : 
 
 " I let my house, the other day, 
 To one who dealt in corn and hay: 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 17 
 
 Next morning I found, ah! woe is me, 
 
 A dreadful pugilist is Tie. 
 
 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 be found in a gamekeeper's lad ; still many 
 "turns-up " with those who were bigger and older than him- 
 self 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 proficient. 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 neigh- 
 bouring 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 
 expectation 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-nursed raga- 
 muffins, 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 
 
18 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 same, when a smart round ensued, rather in his favour ; but 
 the young one was nowise daunted. The old blood of the 
 Eabys 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 ? " " Oh ! " said the 
 coachman, " he can tell my lady that Eodney (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, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 19 
 
 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 
 Eaby 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." "Eodney 
 threw up his head with me this morning, mamma, and struck 
 me in the face," was his reply. "Oh, Frank!" said Mr. 
 Eaby, " 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 horse's 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," exclaimed Lady Charlotte, " you have been in perils 
 to-day; did Eodney 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 ! " 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?" 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 
 
20 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Con- 
 trary to expectation, 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 preaching 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 philosophy 
 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 Shaftes- 
 bury, 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 
 ingratitude 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. 
 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 unbe- 
 coming his clerical situation, but because he was so bad a 
 horseman that he feared he might break his neck. Neither 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 21 
 
 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. 
 Eaby, 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 himself 
 abroad. He was an excellent fisherman, considering the dis- 
 ciple of the angle, probably, as pursuing an apostolical recrea- 
 tion, which, I believe, Izaak Walton did before him. He was, 
 also, a musician, playing beautifully on the violoncello and the 
 flute. But his summum bonum, in the way of indoor amuse- 
 ment, 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 ventured 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 two-fold 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 satisfaction both in and out of 
 church. 
 
CHAPTEE 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. 
 
 " WHAT is to be done to-inorrow," said Mr. Egerton to his 
 pupils in the evening, " as Lady Charlotte has asked for a 
 holiday?" "J shall hunt," exclaimed our hero, his eyes 
 brightening with delight ; and he was out of the room, to give 
 orders for Eodney to have no water in the morning, before his 
 brother had returned an answer to the question. " I 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 Eodney give him 
 another black eye, as nothing had so ungentlemanlike an 
 appearance. " Besides," continued he, " it savours of awk- 
 ward 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 Chester- 
 field 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 appearance 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 23 
 
 had received the praise of all the army for his excellence in 
 riding." 
 
 " 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. Eaby, " 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 soJio, denotes one espied in its form. The terms 
 you have applied are peculiar to coursing." 
 
 About a mile from the place of meeting Frank overtakes the 
 hounds, and the following interesting colloquy occurs : 
 
 Huntsman (touching his cap). " Good morning, Master 
 Francis ; glad to see you out, sir. Kodney looks in high 
 feather; you'll beat us all to-day." 
 
 Frank. "No, Dick; there is no beating you on old Clod- 
 hopper, 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 Eaby, its 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 that 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 he went 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 the 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." 
 
24 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 fox-hounds 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 
 Pytchley 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 Eodney 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 give 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." 
 
 J)ick. " It was Bellman, Master Francis ; but the brother 
 and sister are so alike, that I scarcely know one from t'other 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 25 
 
 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 Eodney, I was 
 pretty near you was I not, Will ? (addressing 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 ' foxhound with 
 those of the harrier. But, Master Francis, who told you about 
 a hound 'guiding the scent? ' 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 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 2,000 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 gentlemen you have just mentioned, 
 and it is but a 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. Eaby 
 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 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 
 
26 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 which some fine hunting was displayed ; and Mr. Eaby 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. Eaby and his friends, who at- 
 tracted 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 Leices- 
 tershire ; 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. Kaby 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, nor 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 Eaby, 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. Eaby, on the last-named circumstance being made 
 known to him, " then we shall see him at the Abbey on Satur- 
 day, 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, I believe ; but will you promise not to begin 
 npon it with him until we come in to dessert?" Mr. Eaby 
 smiled, and said nothing ; but doubtless his heart responded 
 to the call of his favourite son. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 27 
 
 ' 
 
 One of the leading characteristics of a young sportsman is 
 the pursuit of all animals which come under the denomina- 
 tion 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 description, for which pur- 
 pose 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 plea- 
 sure to have seen animals tormenting each other for your 
 pleasure, and merely that you might get possession of a worth- 
 less, 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 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, 
 
28 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ahout 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 can 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 Lei- 
 cestershire, whose name was Somerby, from whose conversa- 
 tion with his father Frank Kaby anticipated a great treat. 
 Neither was it short of a treat to the father himself, to contri- 
 bute to the delight of his favourite son, and, according to pro- 
 mise, he waited his coming to dessert before the subject of 
 hunting in Leicestershire commenced. We will give it in 
 detail. 
 
 Mr. Eaby. " 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. Raly." 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. Somerby. "You have been misinformed on these subjects, 
 Mr. Raby. It is true there are extensive tracts in the counties 
 of Leicester, Eutland, 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 enclosures, which often contain forty acres, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 29 
 
 and occasionally double that number ; but here exists one diffi- 
 culty. Headlands and hedgerows are 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, their guide-post is not so readily at his hand as 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 generally so con- 
 sidered, 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 speak- 
 ing. It is frequently 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, occasionally, 
 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. Raby. " But Sir William informs me you have had a 
 capital season's sport up to this period." 
 
 Mr. Somerby. " Why, Mr. Kaby, notwithstanding these dif- 
 ficulties, no country under the sun shows such fine runs as 
 that called Leicestershire does; nor such exquisite enjoyment 
 of them, for 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 
 
80 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Per- 
 haps 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, afford- 
 ing health to the body, and much matter for a contemplative 
 mind. In few situations of life, indeed, are the faculties of 
 man more prominently displaj r ed. 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. Somerby. " You have not over-rated the good properties 
 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 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 be- 
 ome maxims, amongst which are the following : 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 81 
 
 ' 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 the woodlands, in which foxes are plenty, at 
 least two months before the regular season begins. 
 
 ' Perfection in hounds in chase lies in their hard running 
 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 hunts- 
 man of the other. 
 
 ' When a fox breaks cover, avoid too much hallooing ; it 
 makes hounds wild, and often mars sport. 
 
 1 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 the hounds are going to cry, let them be encouraged, 
 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 essen- 
 tial 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, notwithstanding the pace may be good. 
 
 ' 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 pack of hounds have been known 
 
82 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 to kill most foxes, by skirting and meeting them in covers ; 
 whilst they have seldom killed a really good fox in a straight- 
 forward ruru Murdering foxes in covers is an absurd prac- 
 tice. Seasoned foxes are as essential to sport as seasoned 
 hounds. 
 
 * When once you have established a pack of fox-hounds, 
 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 ima- 
 gined. Hounds are jealous to a degree ; and many, naturally 
 steady, will be induced to run riot by one bad example, espe- 
 cially if exhibited by a stranger. In short, one faulty hound, 
 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 lead- 
 ing ; and you should always anticipate a check, which sheep, 
 cattle, teams at plough, arable land, or a road, are all likely to 
 produce. Kemember 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.' 
 
 " 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 and distinct, as 
 well as cheerful and musical in the extreme. 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 33 
 
 equals; and he has secured the esteem of the former by the 
 following praiseworthy 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. Raby. " 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 whi&- 
 pered in his father's ear that he should like to know the name 
 of Mr. Meynell's huntsman. 
 
 Mr. Somerby. " 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 entertained 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 
 amputation for a white swelling, and the loss is supplied by 
 cork." 
 
 Mr. Raby. "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 
 
 D 
 
34 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Somcrby. " Quorndon Hall, as a house, although plea- 
 santly 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 much 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 Har- 
 borough 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. Eaby. " 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 with- 
 out injury? " 
 
 Mr. Somerby. " 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 35 
 
 such severe exercise. It will render him superior to fatigue, 
 and, barring accidents and epidemics, superior also to dis- 
 ease." 
 
 Mr. Raby. " 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 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 
 
36 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 light- 
 ning,' 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 thoroughbred 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. Eaby, 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. However, 
 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 37 
 
 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 my- 
 self, ' We are in for a tickler.' 
 
 " I began to be sorry, however, that I was iLling 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. How- 
 ever, 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. Eaby, 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 be- 
 coming select. There were only five of us right well with the 
 hounds ; and although many were near, some were already 
 beaten, and some nowhere. But, to be sure, 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 ? ' 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, 
 
38 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ' nobler;' 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 Caiiton 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 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 39 
 
 scent ; Meynell took off his cap, and gave a scream ; and 
 what could I do ? 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 hit, 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 will 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 thun- 
 dering 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 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 
 
40 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 I 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 Kolleston- 
 wood, Forester and Lambton 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.' 
 ' I'll 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 ? 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, 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 Leon bad enough had my horse 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 41 
 
 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. Eaby, 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, black- 
 thorn 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 Cop- 
 low, 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 (con- 
 found 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, thinking 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 cha*nce to change in the course 
 of the runs ; at all events in many of them ? " 
 
 Mr. Somerby. " Your remark is an obvious one. A 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, 
 
42 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 to- 
 gether. 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 distended : 
 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 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 my horse ! what state was he in ? 
 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 LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 48 
 
 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 in 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 bul- 
 finch ; he found it not, and we saw no more of him. ' How 
 shall we get over the brook ? ' holloaed Lockley, who would 
 have jumped one twice as wide this morning, and thought 
 nothing about it. ' Go quick at it, 1 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 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 
 
44 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 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 condi- 
 tion were myself and my horse ? As for me, I was bruised 
 and sore, and had dislocated my 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 Leices- 
 tershire grazier, and that was enough for me at the moment. 
 I led Brilliant to his stable, and his hack conveyed me to 
 Melton. 
 
 " ' Richards,' said I to my groom and no man has a better 
 ' send a helper off with this hack directly, and put yourself 
 in the gig, without loss of time, with everything 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, un- 
 fortunately 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, * whilst 
 you had so many other horses quite fit to go. I think he will 
 make the best hunter in your stable in another 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 
 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 follow- 
 ing 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 45 
 
 night, after you were gone to bed.' ' How was that ?' I in- 
 quired. ' Brilliant was 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."* 
 
 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 n&t 
 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. Baby, 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 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. Eaby ; "but Dick tells me 
 she had only been up from grass a fortnight, and that she 
 died from want of condition." 
 
 * 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. 
 
 " 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 breed- 
 ing 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 sup- 
 posed 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 preserved 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 condition 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 ? 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 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 able to see a fast and loixj run throughout. 
 Thus, also, the following paragraph, which I saw the other 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 47 
 
 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 per- 
 formed 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.'* 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 con- 
 dition of the former improves, so must that of the latter ; and 
 I have one consolation left me from the unfortunate occurrence 
 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 deter- 
 mined 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 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. Baby to his guest, "with 
 
 * See "The Meynellian System; by the late John Hawkes, 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 Feather- 
 legs ; and that Mr. H. alivays rode horses of pure blood. 
 
48 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Somerhy. 
 " You will excuse my giving them as they present themselves 
 to my recollection at the moment. There have been amongst 
 them The Duke of Orleans ; Lords Maynard, Spencer, Sef- 
 ton, Winchelsea, Harborough, Stair, Craven, Eobert Spencer, 
 Charles Manners, Eobert Manners, Paget, Villiers, Egmont, 
 Chatham, and Somerville ; Sirs Carnaby Haggerstone, John 
 Shelley, William Gordon, Harry Featherstonehaugh ; General 
 Tarleton, Colonel Carter ; Messrs. Loraine Smith, Prince 
 Boothby, Charles Wyndham, Lambton, Ealph Lambton, 
 Forester, Cholmondeley, George Germaine, Martin Hawke, 
 Jacob Wardell, Lemon, Cradock, Thomas and Eobert Gros- 
 venor, Goodhere, Norman, Arthur Paget, Conyers, Morant, 
 Assheton Smith, Pole, Saville, Musters, the two Heyricks, 
 John Hawkes, Lockley, Charles Meynell, Hugo Meynell, junior, 
 Orby Hunter, Eose Price, Peach, Boates, Eobert 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 coming among us 
 Lords Plymouth and Foley ; Sirs Henry Peyton, Stephen 
 Glynne, and Wheeler Cuff; Messrs. Eawlinson, the Lindows 
 (twin brothers, and capital hands), Eolleston, 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, "Oh, papa, 
 and has Mr. Somerby hunted in the Pytchley country ? 
 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. Eaby ; "I wonder 
 what you will ask next ? " 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 49 
 
 Mr. Somerby, however, having overheard the question, good- 
 naturedly replied to it : 
 
 " Why, Francis, I am scarely 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 sportsman, we must give them 
 full credit for accuracy of design and character. Has he not 
 exhibited him displaying all the good properties which his call- 
 ing, as a huntsman to foxhounds, requires ? In the first place, 
 what a horseman does he 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 oppor- 
 tunity being offered by his 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-whoop ! was never so carried,' cries he, on 
 dismounting from the fore-horse of the team, whose state of ex- 
 haustion 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 my 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 cele- 
 brated 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 season, almost 
 the first jfching 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, Dick ? ' said his lordship. ' Why, my lord,' he 
 
 E 
 
50 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Northamptonshire, 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 swims like a cork ; but never mind him ; this is 
 only Friday, and he won't be wanted till Sunday.' At a subse- 
 quent 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 ap- 
 pearance and character, in Dick's eyes. At length the gentle- 
 man 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 before the time, to a certainty. I 
 had hoped never to have seen you again in this world. I wonder 
 what you'll do next? ' " 
 
 " 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 
 
THE LIFE OP A SPORTSMAN. 51 
 
 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 realized fifteen hundred pounds by the copy- 
 right, 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 exception of Lord 
 Maynard, who chanced to follow him ; and the 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.' " 
 
 " I conclude," said Mr. Eaby, " 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 De- 
 cember, 1792, he went to the end of, perhaps, the finest run 
 that Leicestershire had afforded up to that period, called the 
 
52 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 Whetstone day, the fox having been found in Whetstone Gorse, 
 between Lutterworth 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 con- 
 clusion of this splendid run. He had the good luck to meet 
 the hounds, evidently running into tlieir 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 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 ! 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 53 
 
 "I remember hearing of another desperate run, in which Mr. 
 Loraine Smith distinguished himself greatly by his fine judg- 
 ment 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. Notwithstanding this disadvantage, 
 towards the end of the run, which embraced an immense sweep 
 of country, himself 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 performance 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 com- 
 puted, 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. Kaby, "you have had a great 
 treat ; so take yourself off to the ladies. I daresay you will 
 dream of Leicestershire and Dick Knight." 
 
 " We shall see him in Leicestershire, some day or another," 
 observed Mr. Somerby. 
 
 " No," replied Mr. Eaby ; "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." 
 
CHAPTEE 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 gravel- 
 kind to attend to all very necessary, however, 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 neigh- 
 bouring 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 ! when 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 55 
 
 other boy to pause. But Frank was not to be daunted. With 
 the branches trembling 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 him- 
 self 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 church- 
 warden's account, I seed, with my own eyes, seventeen shillings 
 paid for seventeen dozen tomtit's heads, three and fourpence of 
 which came to my 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. 
 
56 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 "What's to be done to-day?" said Mr. Egerton to his 
 pupils, after school, on the morrow following the crow's-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 predatory 
 animal, and, as such, there can be no harm in destroying him ; 
 and if you take him alive, which I conclude 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 remarkably 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 
 accomplishments, 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, everything 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. Eaby'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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 57 
 
 he devoted much of his leisure hours to watching the operations 
 of Perren, the head keeper, in breeding and feeding pheasants, 
 of which there were, at that time, but few on Mr. Baby'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 : 
 
 I" 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 
 J j red cloth, or a few links of iron chain, near her nest, and no 
 [jpx 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, beans 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 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 have been coaxing 
 your father for something." "Why, sir," replied Frank, "Jem 
 
58 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 Perren tells me that Mr. Wright's otter-hounds meet at Cranby 
 Mills to-morrow morning, at five o'clock; and he has con- 
 sented 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. 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Andrew. " Does Mr. Wright keep 
 hounds ? 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 off : 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 
 Eaby 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 (excre- 
 ments) 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 for 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 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 sur- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 59 
 
 face, 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 powers, that 
 in less than half an hour from the time he was first found, Mr. 
 Wright exhibited him on his spear-head, to the great joy of the 
 party, and particularly of Frank Eaby, who, to use the words 
 of Taplin, one of the sporting authorities of that day, was 
 " ecstatic with delight." Unable to find another, the sports- 
 men 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. Eaby to him, on 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 everything I saw with Mr. Wright's hounds. 
 What a sportsman Mr. Someville must have been, eh, papa ! " 
 
 "Why," replied Mr. Kaby, "I am unable to speak 
 decidedly 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 class, 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 gentleman.' ' 
 
 "Well," resumed Frank, " I shouldn't wonder but Wilkins, 
 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 very good coachman ? 
 he answered, * Why, Master Francis, Sir John drives very well 
 for a gentleman.' ' 
 
60 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Mon- 
 day, 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 mis- 
 chief." 
 
 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 at 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, perhaps, of his old father's almost every-day 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 soldier * all 
 over, and honestly worth soldier's price, or a little more ! 
 Well, gentlemen, arter riding him only twice up and down the 
 
 * 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. 61 
 
 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.* * 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 Eaby, how do you think they sarved me ? ' Any 
 objection, miller ? ' says one of these chaps devils, God for- 
 give me, Master Kaby (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 ? ' 
 * 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 Eaby, 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 freeholder, or some big 
 gentleman's tenant ? did we grind by wind or water? and all 
 such questions as those. Howsomever, 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 occurred 
 on the meeting between " 'cute John " and his father may be 
 imagined by all who have read that between the Vicar of Wake- 
 
 * Twenty-five was the uliimum price of troop-horses. 
 
62 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 field 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 him, 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 say, " opens a wide field for 
 the naturalist ; and is a rational and contemplative amuse- 
 ment cheap, and instructive withal." Mr. Egerton, himself 
 a fisherman, also encouraged this sport in his pupils, remind- 
 ing 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 instruc- 
 tions of the keeper, Perren, became rather a 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 ? Besides, 
 independently of the reflection cast upon angling, from the 
 unnecessary pain inflicted, the principal art of the fisherman 
 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN . 63 
 
 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 favourable 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 1 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 autumnal 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 Leintwardine has been the happiest that I 
 have hitherto passed.' " 
 
 There is one practice of the fisherman in which Frank 
 Eaby was desirous to excel, and this was the dexterous throw- 
 ing of the casting-net, at which Perren, the head 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 
 
64 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 catch- 
 ing 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 estima- 
 tion, somewhat of a tameness throughout the entire proceedings 
 of the fisherman, which gave him some difficulty in determin- 
 ing 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 intellectual one. Andrew had 
 been a weakly child from his birth, and he was, consequently, 
 unequal 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. 
 
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. Baby, 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 gene- 
 rally epicurean habits, he had settled in his own mind that 
 Frank Raby should succeed to his fortune, which, as I have 
 already stated, was considerable, 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 every- 
 thing 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 constitutional in- 
 dolence 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," 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 trans- 
 lation of the celebrated line 
 
 1 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 conver- 
 sation between the brothers was momentarily interrupted by 
 the appearance of a neighbour, who was on terms of the great- 
 est 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 kind- 
 ness and hospitality which he displayed, as well as for the 
 first-rate talents of his cook. 
 
 "Baby," 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 is something extraordinary. 
 The fact is, we are discussing the point whether Eton or West- 
 minster school is best suited for Frank. Now, 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 Hill. ' Well, William,' said I, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 67 
 
 ' how much 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 be- 
 haviour, 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, 're- 
 sumed I, ' now I comprehend you : and what must I give 
 them? ' ' Oh ! ' replied James, my younger nephew, ' a guinea 
 apiece ivill do.' Here, then, was a good day's work ; for what 
 with the bill at the inn, and the pouching, I had not much left 
 out of a twenty-pound note." 
 
 " A true bill, no doubt, Freemantle," said Mr. Baby ; 
 " 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 bench. 
 ' Mr. Vorth,' said he, ' was veil enough ; indeed he vished to 
 
68 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 hedicate me, and bought vigs for me, that I might learn to cut 
 hair, and did many land 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 voppedhim and the walet, and here I am, once more.' ' 
 
 " Well," observed Mr. Andrew Kaby, " these are extremely 
 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. Free- 
 mantle, " you shall have it ; but, mind ye, it will be one, 
 perhaps, that you Eton and Oxford men and you, in par- 
 ticular, 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 summum 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 imagina- 
 tion; and, by multiplying precepts, it anticipates the judg- 
 ment. 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 
 ratiioncation, and not from scraps of different systems gleaned 
 from the works of others and huddled together without exa- 
 mination. Where is the scholar whose opinion can be said to 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 69 
 
 be entirely his own ? Or where is the genius that we wish 
 to have trammelled by the impressions of others ? Are we 
 sure Shakspere 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. Nor 
 was Mr. Eaby 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 
 absolutely bellowed from the effect of his grief at the loss of 
 Master Francis, his young master ; and the other, who, not- 
 withstanding what she occasionally suffered from his tricks, 
 loved him as the apple of her eye, betrayed the" amiable weak- 
 ness 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 inscribed " God bless you both." And 
 
70 THE LIFE OP A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Wil- 
 kins 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 particu- 
 lar 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 along-side 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 
 "^rancis, 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 com- 
 pleted, 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, put a bit 
 of my box-coat over your knees, 'twill keep off the dust from 
 your clothes." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 71 
 
 " 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 horses. 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. Howsomever, 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 foun- 
 dered 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 he's an awk- 
 ward 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 bow-kickers as these are, all as shifty as a 
 la.vyer : 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 
 
72 THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 
 
 a short Tommy in the boot, on purpose to pay him off. How- 
 somever, 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 middle finger, and 
 those of the leaders passing between the thumb and fore finger, 
 and the fore and middle finger, were very readily distinguished 
 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. Now 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 arc 
 not heavily loaded." "Why, sir," replied Wilkins, "between 
 you and me, I means to swallow that gentleman to-night." 
 " Swallow him ! what the deuce do you mean ? " 
 " Why, Master Francis, I don't mind telling you, because 
 all the servants at the Abbey says that you are not one of the 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 73 
 
 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. 
 Now, this can't be done for only ten shilling a week on such a 
 dull road as this, besides what we kicks the passengers for, 
 without a bit of shouldering. This gentleman is what we call 
 a shoulder-stick, and, instead of his fare going to the pro- 
 prietors of the coach, it finds its way into my short pocket." 
 
 " And do you never get found out ? " 
 
 " 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. No 
 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 ? " 
 
 " No ; but I thinks the young one's^fo/." 
 
 " 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 pro- 
 mising 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 Eabys 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 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 
 
74 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 friends." 
 
 To Tattersall's then they went, and witnessed a curious 
 scene. The impatience of a schoolboy is proverbial; and 
 that of Frank Eaby 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 Eaby. " 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 ! " 
 
 "Kips 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. Eaby, glad 
 to see you. Lads, who would have thought of seeing you in 
 London ? on your road to Eton, I suppose ; and 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 crying 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 hammer, with " For you, 
 Mr. Verner, I believe ; " followed by a nod of assent from his 
 customer. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 75 
 
 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 proceedings, it might 
 be difficult to reconcile, or account for the following fact, though 
 fact it surely be. 
 
 " Pray, sir," said a countryfied-looking man to Mr. Verner, 
 in about ten minutes after the 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 coiv, or 
 must she 'bide where she is to-night ? " " The cow ! " ex- 
 claimed Mr. Verner, " what cow ? " 
 
 " Why," resumed the countryman, " the nice black Alderney, 
 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 Eabys 
 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." 
 
 "But your luggage," observed Mr. Eaby, " what is to be- 
 come 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 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 ? " 
 
7C> THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " 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 ; hut, as Sir John was an Etonian 
 himself, did he recommend nothing to your notice that 
 might he more serviceable to you than a Birmingham coach- 
 man ?" 
 
 " 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 dispatched 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 after- 
 wards 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 Commentaries " 
 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 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 77 
 
 absolutely steel the mind and body against the assaults of 
 fortune, they turn to a good account. They produce an equili- 
 brium in a large body of youths, of various pedigrees, dis- 
 tinctions, 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 impatience ; 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 imagined. At all events, the first week at 
 Eton is a serious trial to the nerves of a shy 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, according 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 ornament 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 ex- 
 piration of his third year. He was likewise good at cricket, 
 quoits, backsword playing, and other manly games ; and above 
 all at football, inasmuch as few could beat him at kicking 
 shins. Andrew was also a good cricketer ; and by his mild, 
 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 
 
78 THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 
 
 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. 
 
CHAPTEK 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 largo, 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 forgotten, 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 Eaby in this season of licence and con- 
 viviality, 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. Kaby that the hearts of his dependents 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 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 Whitsuntide, 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 contributions 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 
 
80 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 keeping with its baronial exterior ; and the clothing 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 w r as compli- 
 mented, by the huntsman, on the improvement in his hand 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 hunting 
 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. Eaby, 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 purpose, " here is the happiest 
 fellow, this day, in our own country, 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." 
 
 " 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-wood ; and thus they discoursed on their 
 way : 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 81 
 
 " Well, Frank," said Sir John, " how did you get on at 
 E ton ? 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 ' Eunning 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 ; go along, Bob ! ' has been a kind of 
 watchword at Eton ever since." 
 
 " Capital ! " exclaimed SIT 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 ; and when 
 they had to pass in procession before old George III., a lad 
 named Eipston appeared in one big enough for a full-grown 
 man, with skirts down to his heels, and great silver buttons, 
 with a fox running engraved upon them. Old Heath was out- 
 rageous, and called him up to him, which being observed by 
 * Old Nobbs,' as we called the king, he asked the Doctor who 
 the boy was ? On hearing the name, his Majesty good- 
 humouredly exclaimed, ' Oh, Doctor, leave him alone ; I know 
 Ids breed.' The fact was, he was the son of a sporting 
 baronet, a master of foxhounds, and he had had the coat 
 
82 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 made large enough to fit an old huntsman of his father's, then 
 past work. But here are the hounds ; we are just in time ; 
 and, by the number of horses at the cover-side, it appears as 
 if we should have a large field. You and old Preston must 
 take care you are not ridden over at the start. And there is 
 the master of the pack, God bless him ! a better sportsman 
 never cheered hound ; and when you come to know what fox- 
 hounds 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 ivind, Koystone 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 pack 
 was, as usual, kind and cheering. " Glad to see you, Sir 
 John," said the master, " you always bring us luck." 
 
 "Glad to hear you say so," replied the baronet ; "we cer- 
 tainly 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 83 
 
 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 stanch 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. Now, Bob,"* to the huntsman, "throw your 
 darlings into cover; and," addressing himself to Frank Eaby, 
 " 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 tongue is a fox with my hounds, as I suppose 
 every tongue is a hare with Mr. Kaby'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 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 
 
 * Kobert Forfeit, who then hunted Mr. Warde' s hounds. 
 
84 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Kaby 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." 
 
 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 flourishing con- 
 dition showed that they were luxuriating 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. " J 
 will have it just where yonder blackthorn-bush is growing on 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 85 
 
 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 eclaircissement took place. 
 
 "Why, Frank," said the baronet, "you are a very pretty 
 fellow; what have you done with old Preston, on Skylark ?" 
 
 " 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 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 ! " ex- 
 claimed 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 con- 
 spicuous ; 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 
 s cent to view, the fox was in Bob Forfeit's hand, and his brush 
 
86 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 in- 
 experienced 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 circumstances, I wish you had been with us to- 
 day. There were many obstacles in our way : First, the 
 scent was excellent in the burst, because the fox ran straight, 
 and 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 Hamden Wood, and 
 finding them shut, laid himself down in the cover, and broke 
 before the pack in view, having been beautifully hunted to his 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 87 
 
 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. Kaby looked at his son, evidently with feelings of 
 satisfaction, hut deemed it prudent not to hazard a word ; and 
 Sir John proceeded with his remarks. 
 
 " Then look at Mr. Warde himself. Putting the sportsman 
 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 ? " inquired Mr. Kaby. 
 
 " 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. Eaby, "that you often visit 
 the head-quarters of Mr. Warde' s hunt ?" 
 
 " Why," answered Sir John, " they lie rather wide of me ; 
 but I am occasionally induced 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 ! " observed Mr. Eaby, " that is John Warde 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 reckon- 
 ing 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 housekeeping, 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 
 
88 
 
 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 only on your own account, but as the son of a valued 
 friend." 
 
 " No 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. 
 
CHAPTEE 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 
 Eabys at the University of Oxford celebrated 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 
 University, but that they should have no cause for having 
 demands upon them when they left it. Their establishments 
 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 Eugby, and therefore totally unknown 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 personal appearance, at least in their personal 
 character. So far from there being anything of the 
 Andrjgones 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 
 
90 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 every-day 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 consisted but of two thoroughly 
 accomplished hunters ; and, like Frank Kaby, 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 ? The question 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 sporting 
 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 Eaby. 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 handsomest fellows in the country ; of 
 robust form withal ; and declared by himself, and very gene- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 91 
 
 rally 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 fact, he would accommodate his employers in any way, 
 provided they paid him well. But Stuart 's/orte 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 nowhere." And 
 so it turned out. 
 
 Amongst the ignoble sciences patronised by Stuart, and in 
 which he much desired to have initiated Frank Eaby, 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 com- 
 petitor 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 in- 
 tended 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 Eaby 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 increase that courage excited his 
 astonishment, if it did not produce pleasure. There is no 
 necessity for recapitulating them ; but it appeared that one 
 
92 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Wit- 
 ness Shakspeare at a bear-fight : 
 
 " Oft have I Been 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 Kaby 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 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' 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 determina- 
 tion to conquer or die ; and ordered cock-fighting to be 
 afterwards annually exhibited in the camp. The Eomans 
 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 this practice, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 93 
 
 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 Eaby 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 expira- 
 tion of it, the following conversation 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-fighting, 
 now that you have seen it nearly in its best form ? " 
 
 " 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 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 conqueror 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 contending with him, for he is all muscle 
 and bone ! Then observe what language he has at his com- 
 mand ! If he finds food, he calls a favourite female to partake 
 of it ; if a danger appears, he bids his family beware ; and he 
 
94 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 has his amorous phrases as well as his terms of defiance and 
 of hattle. 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 Kaby," 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." 
 
 "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 
 gamecock : he is not only, as you have described him, com- 
 posed 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 95 
 
 fight. But why so ? why should he he 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 evident was designed to be domes- 
 ticated. 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 facts, 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 courage 
 of these birds should be displayed to man as an example ? " 
 
 " 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 trifling 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 
 
96 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 dis- 
 cover 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 
 deviation 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 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 constitution, which 
 is a great consideration with cockers. Now here w-e have an 
 analogy between the florist and the cocker. A run flower is 
 one which has the inherent vice of changing colour, with little 
 chance of regaining its primitive and valuable brilliancy ; con- 
 sequently it is discarded by the florist, as spangled pullets 
 would be by the cocker. 
 
 " There are, also, independent of feather, some strange cir- 
 cumstances, 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, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 97 
 
 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 ex- 
 celled 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 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 Kaby, 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 the coarsest exterior, and the meanest garb, outwitting them 
 by odds in their judgment in selecting the winners before the 
 battles commence, and exhibiting indescribable acuteness 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 
 risible, 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." 
 
 " Nor 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, con- 
 sequently impeding respiration. Cocks in very high condition 
 will occasionally ' throw it off,' as the term is, and go on ; but 
 it generally betokens a speedy termination of the battle. The 
 setting or handling of the cocks is also a very difficult art ; in 
 
 H 
 
98 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 fact, I have no hesitation in saying, that not only does a cock- 
 pit 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 cockpit, and whether or not he 
 became a cocker will hereafter be shown. He, however, re- 
 minded Hargrave that the late Mr. Wyndham then in the 
 zenith of his reputation, as one of our distinguished 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 con- 
 flicts, 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 form) to the present time. But 
 these were Bibury 's very best days. In addition to the en- 
 couragement 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 been equalled. Amongst 
 them were the present Duke of Dorset, who always rode for the 
 Prince ; His Grace's brother, the late Hon. George Germain ; 
 the late Mr. Delme Kadcliffe who had the management of 
 His Eoyal Highness' s racing stud, until his decease as George 
 IV. ; the late Lords Chiles Somerset and Milsington, and 
 Lord Delamere, then Mr. Cholmondeley ; Sir Tatton Sykes, 
 then Mr. Sykes ; Messrs. Hawkes, Bullock, Worral, George 
 Pigot, Lindow, Lowth, Musters, Probyn, &c., all first-raters, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. . 99 
 
 and some of them in as constant practice as a ny of the regulr 
 jockeys. And a curious fact may here be 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 diffi- 
 cult 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 Ead- 
 cliffe, 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 weight difference between the perform- 
 ance of that trio, as well as of Mr. Hawkes, and the best of 
 the jockeys in 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 horse- 
 man, 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 Sykes was a second 
 Hawkes, cool, and with a beautiful hand. Of his coolness, 
 perhaps, nothing can beat what I am now about to relate. 
 When riding a match, at York, his horse bolted, and, falling 
 over some rails, he, of course, fell to the ground. His anta- 
 gonist, 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 return to Yorkshire on his 
 hack immediately on the event being decided. Of Mr. Bullock 
 
100 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 commonly called Nando Bullock, his name having been Or- 
 lando 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 run- 
 ning against a post, he absolutely spurred the persons who 
 were carrying him upstairs to bed, with his other leg, so little 
 daunted was he by the mishap. He met his death by an acci- 
 dent, 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 the 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 best gig- 
 horses that the Oxford stables could produce, Frank Eaby and 
 his friend Hargrave thus arranged their plans for the approach- 
 ing 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 keeping 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 Koyal 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" 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 101 
 
 I well remember the scenes at Burford, and all the neighbour- 
 ing 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 concourse of persons, of all sorts 
 and degrees, and all in want of something, was immense. 
 Our young Oxonians, however, 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 Baby on the bench. 
 
 " Come along, Hargrave," said Frank, "I am sure you 
 have had wine enough ; and, as for myself, I can scarcely tell 
 the leader from the wheeler. Besides, you know this mare 
 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 had 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 
 
102 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 apart- 
 ments of the husband and wife, in Marriage A la mode-, the alder- 
 man'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 characters of the persons who inhabit 
 them, I will attempt a brief sketch of the rooms occupied by the 
 two Eabys, at Christchurch, as also those of Hargrave. 
 
 The apartments of Andrew require only a short notice. A 
 bust of Shakspere 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 
 Kaby was domiciled by any means wanting in books, which his 
 uncle had taken care to provide for him, nor were they alto- 
 gether 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 character to those of his 
 orother ; and as the taste and inclinations 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 pub- 
 lished, 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), 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 103 
 
 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 caricature," of Dick Knight and the Pytch- 
 ley Hunt, were also to be seen, as well as an excellent print 
 of Eobert Forfeit, so many years huntsman to the great John 
 Warde. Tom Oldacre, on Brush, just then published, was like- 
 wise 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 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, immortalized 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 ; " like- 
 wise an excellent picture of Squires Draper and Newby, two 
 celebrated Yorkshire sportsmen, representing ttyem in the grey 
 of the morning, opening the door of the kennel. Among the 
 books were some odd numbers of the " Eacing 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 day, and who sold them for a crack 
 price. 
 
 "But were there not always crack men *" was the answer 
 
104 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 liar grave 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 ? 
 why, not much beyond what was commonly found in a gentle- 
 man 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 
 rising, which these words imply, 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 per- 
 fectly 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 communities. 
 At the time I am alluding to, very good horsemen over a 
 country were much more rare than they now are ; and there 
 were not more than a dozen in the University 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, independ- 
 ently of his power to assist his horse, to pull open gates, and 
 knock about obstacles of any sort, is almost sure to be mounted 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 105 
 
 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 hors-e," to carry his 
 weight ; in other words, a cat-legged weed, not worthy the 
 name of hunter, and which gets knocked backwards, 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 con- 
 sidered 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 horsemanship may be gathered from this fact, his 
 horses had both been purchased, at his request, when young 
 and raw, 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 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 nothing 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 from Rupert. He was 
 what is called an " up-standing horse," nearly sixteen hands 
 high ; not large-bodied, although an excellent 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 imper- 
 fection in his fencing, from which he derived his name ; and 
 here he was the very reverse of Eupert. He was not only not 
 a creeper much less a standing leaper but so far from 
 
106 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Eupert'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 
 Leicestershire, 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 
 looked to as a pilot in the field, by all the novitiates in the 
 "noble science" at that time in the University; but Frank 
 Baby, 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 ; but it required a horseman to 
 handle Topthorn ; and it was from seeing Hargrave' s per- 
 formance on him, that Frank Raby acquired lessons which he 
 never forgot, and which afterwards perfected him in the horse- 
 man'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 inclina- 
 tions 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 107 
 
 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 workmanlike style 
 throughout. Amongst them was a commoner of Oriel, who 
 accompanied Hargrave and Frank Kaby, 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 speaking, about 
 fifty well-mounted gentlemen and half a dozen farmers were 
 assembled all having some pretensions to be called sports- 
 men ; in other words, they were met together for very different 
 purposes than riding at, or over, each other, after the manner 
 of our steeple-chase jockeys 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 accom- 
 plishment 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 circumstances ; 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 Eaby, and to the commoner of Oriel 
 whose name, by-the-by, was Goodall an opportunity of 
 
108 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 witnessing the fine horsemanship and good judgment of Har- 
 grave, 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 
 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 merci- 
 less operator, with the firing irons) at about a hundred yards 
 from its banks, he sent him manfully at it, but by not extend- 
 ing himself far enough, he dropped short, and fell backwards, 
 with his rider under him, into the stream ! 
 
 "He is in, by heavens," exclaimed Hargrave, who saw the 
 mishap, " and the parson has it all to himself." 
 
 "He'll be smothered," said Frank Eaby; "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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 109 
 
 " 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. 
 
CHAPTEK 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. 
 
 ON the morning following his arrival in town, Frank Eaby 
 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-by, 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 wont 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, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. Ill 
 
 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 : 
 
 Sir John. " Well, Jack, glad to meet you once more; what 
 news in town ? ' ' 
 
 Webber. " Why, 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 own work between the ' Telegraph ' and the 
 ' Defiance,' on the Manchester road. I saw Bob * go out with 
 his coach to-day, and Jack* yesterday, both very flash indeed; 
 in short, dressed more like gentlemen than coachman." 
 
 Sir John. " And Jack Hale, how is he ? " 
 
 Webber. " Never better ; and his stock looks as well as ho 
 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 ' Benevo- 
 lent 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 own 
 watch at least, by the one which once was his how, to a 
 
 * Bob Snow, formerly on the Brighton road, and Jack Marchant, who died 
 landlord of the " Greyhound Inn," at Newmarket. 
 
112 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 minute, he had kept his time. ''It's a wonder I did, Sir John/ 
 said Jack, ' for the roads he in a queerish state, after that 'ere 
 thunder-storm yesterday ; and there is at 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 
 Eaby. 
 
 Sir John. " Frank ! my boy, how are you ? 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 fox- 
 hunter." 
 
 Webber. " Happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kaby. 
 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 \nfive 
 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 score 
 at public-houses, on different roads, was something approach- 
 ing 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- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 113 
 
 tributed, with others, equally fond of the ribbons as myself, 
 towards the commencement of a new era amongst 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. Eaby. I know all about you from Har- 
 grave, 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. " 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 Northampton- 
 shire ; 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^thers, 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. Eemember what happened to Newland, 
 who was at Oxford with me. Besides, although I think it very 
 probable that Kaby'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. 
 
114 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 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, ' What odds will anyone btt 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 Kaby, 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, how- 
 ever, 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 hia future proceedings. By-the-by, 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, Cam- 
 bridge. Two years after he quitted the University, he 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 115 
 
 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 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 ^6800, a sum greatly exceeding, as he thought, his 
 liberal father's expectations ! Then what was to be done ? To 
 have given in a mutilated list would have been deceiving him- 
 self, 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 friend ? " 
 
 Webber. " The best possible effect ; he has been a prudent 
 man ever since. But, speaking of old college friends, let me 
 ask you, Baby, how you like my friend Hargrave ? " 
 
 Frank. "Very much, indeed ; he is my most particular 
 ally. He is supposed to be the best horseman and sportsman, 
 combined, in the University ; and, in every respect, a good 
 fellow." 
 
 Webber. " And don't you like Topthorn and Eupert ? " 
 
 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 ? ' ' 
 
 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." 
 
116 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 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 Eaces 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 pleasing feature, that im- 
 pressed 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, and 
 John Arnull, both riding for the Prince of Wales ; Tom Goodi- 
 son, and others of equal Newmarket celebrity ; as also Billy 
 Pierce, as he was called, the noted Yorkshire jockey, then 
 riding for his Grace of Cleveland, at that time Lord Darling- 
 ton. 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 Eaby'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 I ever 
 make a figure on this course ?" The answer to which, lie 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 117 
 
 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 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 arrangement 
 of them about the coach, were as follows : Frank Eaby, 
 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 Edrnonston, Captain Askham, and Hargrave, 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 Edrnonston, 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 
 
118 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 
 clear rental of which was 8,000 a year, and a considerable 
 sum of ready money as well, he having been for several years 
 a minor. His passion was, the road ; 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 proprietors, 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 
 perpetuum, 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 cclaircissement took 
 place on his entering the stable-yard of the same : 
 
 "Whose coach is that?" 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 119 
 
 break?" " The Captain's, sir." "And that travelling 
 chariot ? " " The Captain's, sir." 
 
 Then turning into a stable in which there were six fine 
 coach-horses : " Whose horses are these? " was the question 
 put to another helper. " Captain Askham's, sir." " And 
 these ? " resumed the old gentleman, on finding six more in 
 another stable. " Captain Askham's, sir." " And these ?" 
 ditto repeated in a third. " Captain Askham's, sir." "And 
 pray whose bear is that ? " 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 him- 
 self ?" " 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. In 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 mean time, 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 manage- 
 ment, the general result of dearly-bought experience, he con- 
 trived to live very much like a gentleman, and to indulge him- 
 self 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 Hyde 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 Edmon- 
 ston, 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 ? I mean since Christmas, 
 
120 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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." 
 
 "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 horse- 
 back, 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.' 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 121 
 
 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 stand-still. At Eagdale, how- 
 ever, we came to a check, the hounds having a little overrun 
 the scent, from the fox turning 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 Kaven 
 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 invincible 
 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 Queenborough, 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 
 
122 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 his tongue on a scent. ' He is among the dead ! ' exclaimed 
 Meyneil ; and, putting his horse to 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 to Haines's, in the morning, and quite fast 
 enough to satisfy anyone. In fact, he went from Queen- 
 borough 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 con- 
 sisted of every description of hunting, and of every description 
 of difficulties, which could put the goodness and condition 
 of hounds, the science of their huntsman, 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 Edmonston, 
 " I should make my story too long ; and I wish I could con- 
 clude it without stating that several horses died in consequence 
 of it. I must, however, mention one circumstance 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 that 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 lead- 
 ing men to a stand-still. In fact, we were turning away from it 
 in despair, looking for a practicable place in the ox-fence, when 
 Meyneil, mounted on his famous old grey horse, came up ; 
 and, without breaking his stride, leaped it in the most beauti- 
 ful style imaginable, leaving us all in the lurch, for a time, 
 not one having the nerve to follow him, although the hounds 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 123 
 
 were a field or two a-head, running with a breast-high scent at 
 the time."* 
 
 With the exception of the Captain, who cared nothing ahout 
 hounds, and whose attention was chiefly attracted to the move- 
 ments of the four greys, and the masterly style in which they 
 were handled by their driver, this interesting description of a 
 run with Mr. Meynell's hounds, together with the extraordi- 
 nary incidents which occurred in it, was listened to with much 
 delight ; more especially by the two young ones, who glanced 
 a significant 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 his 
 own country instead of twice six in Leicestershire, and enjoy- 
 ing 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 pas- 
 sion 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 Houn- 
 slow the Baronet exclaimed, pointing to the Oxford finger- 
 post : 
 
 " That is my old road. There are my old associations; " 
 and, turning himself round towards Hargrave, and afterwards 
 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 
 
 * This is a fact. 
 
124 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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,* at Ben- 
 son, and a good dinner in No. 3 ? But I am not going to stop 
 there. Can I forget Christchurch, and the happy days I 
 passed within its walls ? They never have been surpassed by 
 any others, and I more than doubt whether they ever will be. 
 I am now, however, travelling in a new direction, and shall 
 meet with none but new faces on the 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 redundant 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 that 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. 
 
 * The landlord's name, at the head inn. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 125 
 
 " 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 re- 
 lated the story: 
 
 " 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 com- 
 municated 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, however, 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. 
 
126 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 The former the pedagogues returned suitable acknowledg- 
 ments 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. 1 " 
 
 " 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 allowance if left to the 
 generosity of their pupils alone to reward them, although I do 
 not see why they should ; as, 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 pedagogum facit ' ? 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 Costar's 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-coach- 
 man, 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 
 throughout, 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 scholardship 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 ? ' ' No, ma'am,' replied 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 127 
 
 Jem ; ' but I shall go half way there, and my fellow servant will 
 take you the other half if you want to go there ; but mind ye, 
 ma'am (looking upwards 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.' " * 
 
 "He booked his passenger, I conclude," observed Frank 
 Eaby. 
 
 "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 Bir- 
 mingham 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, re- 
 sumed 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/ " 
 
 * This anecdote can only be appreciated by those who are aware of the trouble, 
 some, stupid questions put by the travelling public to 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 through- 
 out, 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-coachman, 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. Analey, 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. 
 
128 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 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 Hargrave ? 
 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 ap- 
 peared 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 unfair- 
 ness. 
 
 "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 by-stander, 
 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 129 
 
 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 Eouge et Noir and E. 0. tables on the 
 course, assuring them they were all unfair, and that they would 
 not have a chance to win at them. It was discovered, after- 
 wards, 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. Raby, "I hope you have enjoyed 
 yourself at Ascot." 
 
 " Very much indeed," was the 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 coachman- 
 ship, 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 coachmanlike 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 
 
 K 
 
130 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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, stand- 
 ing 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 laudabis 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 dwelling upon the description 
 of Juno's chariot, when his reader expects him to lead him 
 into the thick of the battle ? 
 
 ' 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 sub- 
 ject, that, at the games of Patroclus, he represents Menelaus 
 borrowing one of the horses of Agamemnon a horse called 
 Mthe (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 Komans ; can anything be 
 finer than Juvenal's description, in his eleventh satire, of the 
 excitement created in Kome by the various chariot races at the 
 Circensian games, which passage has been so admirably trans- 
 lated by Congreve: 
 
 ' This day, all Rome (if I may be allowed, 
 Without off once to such a numerous crowd, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 131 
 
 To say "all Rome ") will in the circus sweat : 
 Echoes already to their shouts repeat j 
 Methinks I hear the cry Aivay! 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 Cannae's fatal field.' 
 
 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 Borne, 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, ' 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 receiv- 
 ing, 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 im- 
 proved 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. Baby, " any more than 
 JEschylus could have celebrated the triumphs 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 bean 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 my ears." 
 
132 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " 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 opportunities of dispensing much pleasure amongst 
 our friends and acquaintances." 
 
 "And what think you of racing, now you have seen it in per- 
 fection ?" 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. Kaby 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. Eaby 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 Liecestershire 
 sportsmen to meet him at dinner. As for Ascot, the less 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 133 
 
 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 person of your Melton 
 friends, some of the best specimens of that class of men. I 
 knew Mountford's father well, and there was no better man ; 
 and I hear an excellent account of Lord Edmonston, from an old 
 friend of his mother, who visited me lately. Of Kaymond 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 
 
134 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 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 absurdity ; but there is no harm 
 in it, after all ; au contraire, 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 con- 
 veying our mails. 1 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 horseback ; 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 Government 
 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 im- 
 practicable, 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 introduction 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 185 
 
 Edinburgh, and eighty-five from Edinburgh to London ; and, 
 subsequently, the time has been shortened to sixty-two in each 
 case." 
 
 " 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 the con- 
 veyance of letters by post, as the term is, commenced in the 
 world ? I have often heard the subject discussed, but never 
 satisfactorily so." 
 
 "You have imposed a task upon me," answered the uncle, 
 "that I scarcely know how to perform; but 1 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 ari 
 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 correspondence 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 accommodation, by erecting, upon all the great 
 roads, houses, or stations, where the messengers might stop, 
 as occasion required, and where, for their still greater con- 
 venience, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 far back as the ancient Persians. Xenophon, indeed, tells us 
 they were invented by Cyrus, on his Scythian expedition, 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 again. Herodotus mentions the 
 singular fact that, from the shore of the ^gean 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, how- 
 ever, was probably at no period so extensive as to require or 
 maintain post-offices on the footing of modern posts for the 
 mere conveyance of letters. It is in later times only, when 
 the extension of commerce gave occasion to frequent communi- 
 cation, 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 satisfactory 
 conclusion ?" 
 
 " At what period the public of any country commenced 
 travelling post, as the term is, is difficult nov to decide. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 137 
 
 Post-horses are mentioned in the Theodosian code (de cursu 
 piiblico), but 1 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 per- 
 mission 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 at a penny per mile ; but when post- 
 ing by carriages commenced, it is not in my power to deter- 
 mine. 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 nackneys 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, and 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." * 
 
 " 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?" 
 
 " A dispute on this subject," replied Mr. Baby, " is imme- 
 
 * 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. 
 
138 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 diately settled by a reference to different countries. An 
 English statute mile is eighty chains, or 1,760 jards, that is, 
 5,280 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, 1,200 paces ; 
 Scotland and Ireland, 1,500; Italy, 1,000; Kussia, 750; 
 Germany, 4,000 ; Hungary, 6,000. Thus, a friend of mine, 
 travelling in Germany, 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 1,500 to 3,000 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 3,000 
 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 Eomans 
 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 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 Eoman foot, the first- 
 named being the greatest. The Eomans, 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 Eome. Augustus, indeed, erected a gilt pillar in the 
 forum of that city, at which all the public roads, or ' ways,' of 
 Italy, distinguished 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. 
 
CHAPTEE 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 hailed with joy by all 
 parties, and by none more than Jem Perren and the hunts- 
 man. But Frank Eaby came under the denomination of " one 
 whom everybody likes," a characteristic which, indeed, he pre- 
 served to the last day of his life. 
 
 Shortly after his return to the Abbey, a grand entertainment 
 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 Eaby 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 Eaby 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, 
 
140 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Eaby ; I think his father 
 has acted wrong in letting him be so much with Sir John 
 Inkleton, who, 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 Kaby 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 Eaby 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 knov/ 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; 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 pro- 
 portion 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, 
 wiiat good does he do for his own ? With talents which might 
 have made him one of the resources of his country, he sits by, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 141 
 
 and looks on at the difficulties that oppose it, all his energies 
 being relaxed and absorbed in what may be called the effemi- 
 nacy 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 Eaby's harriers, on two accounts : 
 first, she feared I should break my neck, emphatically remind- 
 ing 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 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 my- 
 self all this disservice. I am punished in this world, from a 
 vain apprehension of being punished in the next ; I am be- 
 come 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 sentiment 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 civilized 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 accomplish- 
 ment cheap. But such was not the case. It was enough for 
 him that it was an accomplishment, and one necessary for a 
 
142 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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," 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 ? Tt was not. He had selected 
 a young and beautiful married woman for his partner, and 
 who, although of character pure and spotless, seemed some- 
 what pleased by the choice. The dance concluded, he led her 
 to her seat, and again made his election. But there was some- 
 thing in his manner, at this moment, that 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." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 143 
 
 " 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 ball-room as much as he would an ugly leader in his coach. 
 He swears he never yet 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 his mother; "but I do not wonder 
 at my having done so ; for when you are at home, and espe- 
 cially 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 
 
144 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 human nature, men take some pleasure in creating a feeling of 
 jealousy towards a rival, in their wives, merely because it occa- 
 sions 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 their attachment and love. And such was the case 
 with Frank Eaby. It would be useless to disguise the fact, 
 that the personal charms of Mrs. Denham had made an impres- 
 sion 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 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 Praxi- 
 teles. And in her, even is an imperfection created a beauty. 
 She has a slight hesitation in uttering her words, which, if she 
 were my wife, I would not have removed on any account. And 
 yet I can hardly describe to you the effect it has, but it is some- 
 what 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 de- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 145 
 
 scribed, 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 Baby 
 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 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 signi- 
 ficant 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 
 these lines : 
 
 ' Since thou would' st needs, bewitched by some ill charms, 
 Be buried in these monumental arms j 
 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 beautiful, 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 
 
 L 
 
146 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Baby 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 intro- 
 duces either of my 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 myself. 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 imprudently, 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 hours' 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? " interrupted 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 con- 
 firmed. 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 making verses was a futile one. 
 But mark the change! No sooner does the ' silly boy,' as your 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 147 
 
 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. Happening to enter his room 
 yesterday afternoon, in search of a book I had lent him, I saw 
 some scraps of paper on his table, on which, in spite of erasures 
 and alterations, I could decipher the following lines (the fair 
 copies, I presume, 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 meadj 
 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 : 
 
 1 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 are they, 
 Lady, alas ! I cannot say, 
 
 For I 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 ; 
 
148 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 ' 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 ' 
 
 " 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, although, 
 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 consequences 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 reflec- 
 tion 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 opportunity 
 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 circum- 
 stance 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 149 
 
 vacation, fishing and shooting being the principal amusements 
 of that period at all events, with young men who, like Frank 
 Kaby, come under the denomination of sportsmen. Eelating 
 to the last-named diversion, one fact is worth mentioning : 
 What is called flapper-shooting 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 fact very much doubted by naturalists, and cer- 
 tainly 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 commence- 
 ment of game-shooting, to which it of course gives place. 
 
 At partridge-shooting, Frank Eaby was now become an 
 adept. In fact, there was but little difference, in the contri- 
 bution 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 con- 
 sists 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 
 
150 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 perform- 
 ances. His betting-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 I could do so, also ?" 
 
 "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 ?" 
 
 " 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 151 
 
 country races ; and, having heard me offer a few bets yester- 
 day, 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 
 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, I 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 understand, 
 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 decided ; 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 with a one-eyed gentleman. ' ' 
 
 " Well, really, Francis," observed Lady Charlotte, " I think 
 you must be a very great simpleton to have anything 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 
 
152 THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 
 
 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, occasion- 
 ally, 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 and manners, would, in these days, 
 be placed at the head of all the snobs. There was, also, in 
 the room, a gentleman in whom he greatly delighted, inas- 
 much 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 compli- 
 ment, and, taking courage, thus addressed the chair: 
 
 " Mr. President, may I be allowed to propose a toast ?" 
 
 " 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 comprehend 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 contain- 
 ing 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 neighbour, 
 Mr. Eidgeways, a good sportsman, and a dear lover of horses 
 and hounds," replied Squire Cranbrook. " Stand up, if you 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 153 
 
 please, Mr. Eidgeways (himself also rising from his seat at the 
 moment, with a bumper of claret in one hand, and the delight- 
 ful mixture in the other). Now, sir," said he to his admirer, 
 " to convince you of the high sense I entertain of the compli- 
 ment you have paid me, in proposing my health in the flatter- 
 ing manner in which you have done it, we will, if you please, 
 pledge to each other in a bumper, out of the same bottle." 
 
 " I should be delighted, sir," hiccuped the yeoman the 
 Squire filling his (Mr. Eidgeways') 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. Eidgeways, a great promoter of sport. Mr. Eidgeways' 
 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. 
 
CHAPTEE 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 under- 
 graduates 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 
 candidates choice, but, on the preceding evening, at what is 
 now called, amongst the vulgar, " a good blow out," at the 
 said canditate'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, and 
 was 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 uses to which such 
 animals are applied. 
 
 Having completed their Oxford "trials," everything was 
 arranged for the departure of the two Eabys 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 constitution of the elder 
 brother, now showed itself openly ; and it was the opinion of 
 his medical attendants that a continental tour was out of the 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 155 
 
 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 Am- 
 stead 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 ^615,000, 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 from 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 ' Big Wood,' " said he to 
 him one day ; " and likewise in ' Blackthorn Kough ; ' 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." 
 
156 THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 
 
 " 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 purpose, 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 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 business. I often hear my lady 
 praising other gentlefolk's coach-horses ; and I once heard her 
 say she * wished Mr. Kaby 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 
 
THE LIFE Otf A SPORTSMAN. 157 
 
 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 Inkleton 
 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 ; Carbonnell's best. Let me see, nearly 
 aGlOO 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 ? 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," addressing 
 himself to the cook, "it is time to put you on 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 ? 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 
 
158 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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." 
 
 " No one was ever starved here yet," muttered the cook, as 
 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 conversa- 
 tion 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. Eobson," said our hero, and Mr. Eobson 
 (the steward) made his appearance. 
 
 " Eobson," said Frank Eaby, " 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." 
 
 "May I ask you, sir," replied Mr. Eobson, "for what 
 purpose you intend to apply such land ? If for planting " 
 
 " 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 ? " 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 159 
 
 and well-timbered park, Perren, the keeper, appeared in sight. 
 " Give him a holloa, Eobson," 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 pro- 
 vided with two brace of down-charge setters, 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-by, 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, 9 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 beared Sir John's keeper speaking 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. Eobson ? the man must be a big 
 rogue." 
 
 " 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 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 
 
160 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 dog-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." 
 
 " No 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, Eoberts, 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 : there- 
 fore, you must look out for some of the best blood that can be 
 found." 
 
 " And where will I get it, sir ?" 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 Swiffham meeting. 
 Only mind this, I am determined to beat that old parson, cost 
 what it may." 
 
 Exit Mr. Perren, heaving a deep sigh, and muttering to him- 
 self " I wish all this may end well." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 161 
 
 I have yet one more little " sign of the times" to produce. 
 The following day was a hunting day with Mr. Eaby, 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 headache, 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?" 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 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 con- 
 cerned. 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 
 
 M 
 
1G2 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 namely, " Leave that to me." In fact, Sir John said, " Let 
 the horse he 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. Kaby"- (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 Eaby and old Dick, Sir John 
 being upon a hack. But I have not done with them yet. 
 Seeing Mr. Kaby, 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. Kaby 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 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. Kaby," 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 fox- 
 hounds, 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 163 
 
 "Make so bold, Mr. Baby," observed Dick, "what do you 
 call a ivhole good one ?" 
 
 " He wants a turn of speed, Dick, as your old Clodhopper 
 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 Baby," 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 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," said Miss Baby. 
 
 "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 ?" 
 
 " Not I, indeed," was the reply. 
 
 " La, miss ; why he bought him out a hunting with the fox- 
 hounds, the day before yesterday, for 300 guineas, and I heard 
 
164 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ?" 
 
 " Not 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 1,000 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 Eaby. 
 
 "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 coach- 
 man says, he will be bound Mr. Beaumont has given him 
 10,000. You know, Miss Kaby, he is very rich, and how fond 
 he is of Mr. Francis." 
 
 "I know my uncle is fond of him," replied Miss Eaby, 
 " 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 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 trans- 
 ferred to Mr. Eaby, before he ate his dinner. Now then for the 
 result. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 165 
 
 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. Kaby and his only son were left by them- 
 selves, over a bottle of Griffiths' s port. 
 
 " Well, Frank," said Mr. Baby, " 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. Eaby, " but I sup- 
 pose a horse that shows such superiority at the end of a long 
 fox-chase, commands a large sum. I shall order Kobson 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 oppor- 
 tunity 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. Eaby : "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." 
 
 " 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 
 snail 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 ; 
 
166 THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 
 
 and as for writing the better for it, I do not suppose my scrib- 
 bling propensities will ever exceed a few short epistles to my 
 friends. At the same time, if yourself and my uncle particularly 
 wish that I should travel, I am ready, though I cannot say will- 
 ing, 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 pro- 
 prietor 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 breed- 
 ing. I was just asking Eobson yesterday, as I was walking 
 with him in the park, what he 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. 
 Baby ; "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 breeding 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 acci- 
 dents, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 167 
 
 within the last 200 years the name of Eaby has never ye^ 
 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 com- 
 bine 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 ^6800 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 acknowledged 
 the kindness of his father in common-place 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 satisfactory. In fact, though scotched, the snake was 
 not killed, and Frank said within himself, " If I am not per- 
 mitted 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 
 Kaby 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 : racing has been repre- 
 sented, 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 Eaby by his late intercourse with 
 Lord Dauntley, who had been introduced to him by his friend 
 
168 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 manage- 
 ment could effect it. 
 
CHAPTEK 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. 
 
 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 Kaby 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 proffered boon. It will be an excellent intro- 
 duction into life, 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 poet<e, 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 
 
1 70 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 judgment and ordinary imagination, a tolerable speaker, espe- 
 cially 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 groundwork 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 gen- 
 tleman. 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 educa- 
 tion 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. My 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 consti- 
 tution, 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 experi- 
 ence to whatever cause it might be owing a sudden change 
 in its system of government ; if an alteration 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, v;e must consider eloquence 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 171 
 
 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, 
 
 "BEAUMONT EABY." 
 
 To this epistle, our hero returned the following reply : 
 
 " MY DEAB 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 
 becoming 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 ? I suppose I might, if called upon, 
 make a tolerable speech that is to say, if it were on 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 neces- 
 sary to dress up 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 blacksmith) banish cor- 
 ruption from Athens ? Did what is called the masterpiece of 
 Cicero's orations prevent the banishment of Milo, or his invec- 
 tive against Antony destroy the power of that tyrant ? Was 
 not He ' who spake as never man spake,' disregarded and per- 
 secuted to death by the multitude ? Can human elocution 
 
172 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 perform what divine accomplishments and assistance were not 
 able to effect ? No, uncle, in matters of common life, and also 
 in the House of Commons, it is not so much ivhat 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 plun- 
 dering 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 EABY. 
 
 " B eaumont 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, de- 
 cidedly 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.' " * 
 
 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 Eaby ; 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 acknow- 
 ledgment, 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 yesterday, 
 was to me rather an annoyance than a matter of surprise. I 
 
 * It is a well-known fact that on two celebrated Meltonians requesting to be 
 excused sitting on a committee of the House, the Speaker observed, that he believed 
 " the month of February was the best hunting month in the year." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 173 
 
 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 synony- 
 mous 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 ; 
 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 something more than an accomplish- 
 ment 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 BABY. 
 
 " To Francis Baby, Esq." 
 
174 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 novel- 
 ties, 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 Eng- 
 lish 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 charac- 
 teristic 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 enco- 
 mium 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 
 Eaby 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 per- 
 petuates them is debased, is not for me to determine, but the 
 improvement in the style in which they are recorded is remark- 
 able, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 175 
 
 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 civily taking leave of the spectators, or 
 saying anything to any person. This the backers call rogue- 
 ing of it, for it is generally thought that. he ran away full 
 strong. The whole time of their 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 fort- 
 night'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 render it. 
 
 " Purchase those," said his adviser, " which have been 
 ridden over grass countries, such as Leicestershire or North- 
 amptonshire, where the fences aro high and wide, and where 
 there are brooks. Half the horses called hunters are all 
 but worthless to hard-riding men, by having been ridden in 
 
176 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 contem- 
 plating with himself, at the latter place, as to the means by 
 which he could put his resolves into effect, as to once sig- 
 nalizing 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, Kaby," 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 doubt," replied Frank, " but I must 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 
 ones 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 177 
 
 post-chaise to one of the best builders in the Acre, and fur- 
 nished 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 : 
 
 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 resolu- 
 tion 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 enjoyment. Exclusive of 
 the actual diversion on the moors, 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 gout to 
 wine ; and hard must be that bed on which sound and refresh- 
 ing sleep is denied to the man who has had a good day's 
 grouse -shooting over the Scotch hills, or those of any other 
 
 N 
 
178 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 we*e 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 
 Eaby 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 
 fathomless depth of its soil after a hard frost succeeded by 
 rain, 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 proportion 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 179 
 
 fields, and he was told that such parts of it strongly resembled 
 Leicestershire. He had also a regard for it, on another con- 
 sideration. In a fine run from Pusey Firs, he was one of only 
 five who cleared the Eosey 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 Eosey 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 fixtures ; 
 namely, Wolford Wood, and Witchford Wood, almost the only 
 two covers within possible reach of Oxford men ; roughish 
 places, both of them, but often holding, as most rough places 
 do, very capital foxes. But Frank Eaby 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 head-quarters 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 Sundorue Castle, 
 Shropshire, who himself sustained the 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 enter- 
 taining 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 huntsman, 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 
 
180 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 sports- 
 men 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 possession of a very 
 considerable income. But the most extraordinary part of the 
 history of these gentlemen as sportsmen, is the fact of their 
 having by reason of being Catholics been educated abroad, 
 and never seeing a foxhound in the field until past their 
 twenty-fifth year. The younger, Mr. Eobert 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 
 conspicuous man with Mr. Meynell's hounds in Leicestershire, 
 also then resided in Warwickshire, and was occasionally 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 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 inti- 
 mate 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 181 
 
 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 enthu- 
 siasm he exhibited in the chase ; he, however, by being 
 mounted on very speedy horses, and not afraid to gallop over 
 the ivorst sort of ground, saw a great deal of the sport, appear- 
 ing at times in a good place when very little expected. And 
 Frank Eaby took a leaf out of his book, as regarded his 
 hunters, of which 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 cele- 
 brated 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 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 comfort- 
 able 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 
 proceedings of what may be termed the second great sports- 
 man of that day the immortal Meynell, although at that 
 
182 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 time about to retire from the field, being the first. He was 
 much struck with the peculiar character of the hounds, com- 
 bining 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 appearances in the costume of the men, 
 and the horses were of a coarser description. Still it was 
 altogether sportsmanlike, for a sportsman was at the head of 
 the establishment. 
 
 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 Christ- 
 church College. His noble master, however, he had the 
 pleasure of meeting in the field, and seeing him keep a very 
 good place in a 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 Eaby met Mr. Warde's hounds at a cover in 
 the 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 183 
 
 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 not 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 a 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 (afterwards 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 Northamptonshire, 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 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 extraordinary fact related of this elegant horse- 
 man, 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 inventus. He had fallen back into 
 an old, deep well, the covering of which had given way under 
 him, as he leaped on it. 
 
 Kaby, 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 agreeable, 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 : 
 
184 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " This young Eaby 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 school-boy, 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, inde- 
 pendent of his father, they tell me he has 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, 
 1 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 out of his book. It will be worth all the 
 Greek and 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 185 
 
 tandems, with the leaders scarcely able to make a walk of it, 
 from the flankings they had received from their rather merci- 
 less 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 
 Eaby, and amongst the lot quite as many as could be ex- 
 pected four or five of them rode well and judiciously to the 
 hounds, throughout a really good run of an hour over a right 
 stiff country. 
 
 Young Baby'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. 
 
 " 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. 
 
CHAPTEK XL 
 
 The d&ut in Leicestershire Frank Baby 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 pro- 
 perty of Lord Sefton, being very distant from Leicester, Frank 
 Eaby had a day to dispose of, and occupied 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 Kaven, one 
 of his Lordship's huntsmen Stephen Goodall, the other hunts- 
 man, 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, Eow- 
 land, and Gooseberry amongst them, which cost little less than 
 1,000 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, provided they were similarly 
 treated, and not turned out to grass in the summer." 
 
 There being no one about the house but servants, Frank 
 Eaby ventured to walk through the grounds of Quorndon Hall 
 (for such is the name of this celebrated hunting-box), cele- 
 brated as having been the property and residence of Mr. Mey- 
 nell, 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, affording all necessary 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 187 
 
 accommodation, though divested of unnecessary 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 Leices- 
 tershire, 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 introducing him to some of 
 the leading characters of the Quorn, and also of the neighbour- 
 ing 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 from 
 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 deter- 
 mined 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 Gentle- 
 man, 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 dispatched to Melton 
 with his luggage. On his arrival at the cover, he was imme- 
 diately met by Mr. Somerby, and, in the course of the day, 
 introduced by him to the following 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, was in the 
 field ; to the Lords Villiers, Maynard, Charles Somerset, 
 Craven, and Foley ; to the Honourable George Germaine, the 
 Honourable Eobert Grosvenor, the Honourable Joshua Van- 
 neck, the Honourable Berkeley Craven, and the Honourable 
 Martin Hawke ; to Sirs John Shelley, Eobert Langley, Henry 
 
188 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 Peyton, and Stephen Glynne ; to Messieurs Cecil Forester, 
 Thomas Cholmondeley, Loraine Smith, Childe of Kinlet, 
 Charles Meynell, Harvey Aston, John Musters, Thomas Asshe- 
 ton Smith, Lindon, Langton, John Hawkes, John Lochley, and 
 Jacoh Wardell. 
 
 But he was nearly lost in admiration at the splendid sight 
 that presented itself. In addition to the gratification of seeing 
 what was considered the crack pack of foxhounds of all 
 Europe, in the crack country, with John Eaven as their 
 huntsman, of whom he had heard such a character from 
 Mr. Somerby, together with the ahove-named galaxy of sports- 
 men, 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 con- 
 sidered, hounds, horses, men, and country not to be equalled 
 in any part of the world, and that, it must be allowed, is say- 
 ing 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 Eaven' s thrilling 
 view-halloos as she crept out of the gorse nearly under his own 
 horse's feet. " Possunt, quia posse videntur" being the Lei- 
 cestershire 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 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 : 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 189 
 
 " 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 main- 
 tained 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 distin- 
 guish, 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. 
 Masters 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 instructor, 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 Leicester- 
 shire fences ? But I was as oftentimes deceived, when I came 
 up to them, by finding them very big. But hoiv 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 com- 
 pany ; the pace was beyond what I had been used to, and my 
 place was taken by Sir Henry Peyton on 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 ; l so I must not despair.' But where were 
 the old ones ? Why, in about three more fields I heard a 
 
190 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 thrilling scream, that seemed to enter into my soul, and look- 
 ing 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 quick- 
 ness with which he made up his ground, having had a bad 
 start. Young Eaven, 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 condition 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 a copious bleeding by his master. This, how- 
 ever, gave rise to a rather ludicrous circumstance. A caricature 
 appeared in London, representing 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 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 191 
 
 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.' 
 
 " ' 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 foot-bridge 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 appearance 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 Leices- 
 tershire.' * It depends,' said he, ' on how long they can go. 
 For example,' 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 
 Gentleman, at Tatter sail's, I had no reason to expect to 
 have gone farther than I did on that money. I shall, how- 
 ever, 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 leading men 
 mounted fresh horses, others rode the same which had carried 
 them so forward in the first 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 
 
192 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ultra 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 Eaby still 
 he had enough left in him to trot along with the hounds to 
 Scraptoft, and see a second find. This gave him an opportu- 
 nity 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 appearance ; 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 appearance of 
 all three, for anything more characteristic could scarcely be 
 exhibited in the human form. As for John Eaven, 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-proportioned 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 whippers-in foils to him. Joe Harrison (Jones, 
 the cork-legged whipper-in, had then just retired, to the dis- 
 comfiture of our hero, who wished to have seen the rara avis) 
 was an excellent sample of his craft, as was also Tom Wink- 
 field, with his one eye, and a countenance reminding 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 per- 
 formance, that a better could not be found. 
 
 As this was one of the last days of Mr. Meynell appearing 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 193 
 
 in the field, it was fortunate for Frank Baby 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. Mey- 
 nell, 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 Eaven came by 
 with the pack, the question was at once decided. 
 
 "What hound spoke to a scent, John?" said Lord Sefton. 
 " Dromo, my Lord," replied Eaven. " I think a fox has been 
 through the gorse early in the night." This showed the 
 accuracy of Mr. Meynell' s 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 " gentlemen," his appearance was very 
 imposing. 
 
 On his arrival at Melton, our hero was much disappointed 
 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 consequence to Frank Eaby, 
 inasmuch as by the introduction of Mr. Somerby, in addition 
 to the weight his own connections 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 
 
194 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 there was, in the proceedings 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 allow- 
 ance of wine, tea and coffee were announced ; and after an 
 hour or two's amusement with cards, each man retired to his 
 couch, to be ready and fresh for the following 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, 
 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 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 fine but choking 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 195 
 
 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 
 puffing 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." 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 hunted by a young farmer with his 
 ather's harriers, over a brook nearly, if not quite, as wide as 
 he one which now unfortunately arrested his progress; so he 
 
196 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 at once determined 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 Eaby," 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 Eaby. There 
 was something manly and sportsmanlike about him ; in short, 
 they considered him " a promising young one," a compliment 
 first paid by Mr. Forester, no bad judge. To the questions 
 put to our hero himself, he made the following candid answer : 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 197 
 
 " Why, I was very rightly served. I neglected the observance 
 of what ought to be a standing rule in all situations in 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 im- 
 pressed 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 Eaby, 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. 
 
 " DBAK INKLETON, 
 
 " I promised to let you know how I get on in Leicester- 
 shire. 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 pro- 
 vincials,' 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, Kaven (I 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 
 
198 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 over- 
 sleeping 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. Asshe- 
 ton 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 at his seat in Cheshire, 
 thirteen hunters took their departure for Melton ; and on his ob- 
 serving that ' it must be a difficult matter to find such a lot :' 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 199 
 
 ' Not at all,' replied Cliolinondeley, '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 con- 
 dition 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 KABY. 
 
 " 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 Kutland 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 to- 
 gether. 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 Rut- 
 land'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 Eaby 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, await- 
 ing the appointed hour, he observed him coming along on his 
 

 200 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 cover-hack, at the rate of fifteen miles in the hour, and in 
 company with two distinguished sportsmen, then on a visit to 
 the Duke, and who were, no doubt, enjoying, as well as pro- 
 fiting 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 him- 
 self 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 remarkable 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 Eaby as something out of the 
 common way. The signal was silently but gracefully acknow- 
 ledged 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 horsemanship, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 201 
 
 lately travelled over. And at what a pace it is travelled over ! 
 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;* in 
 fact, the General, and Bowman f a right good one are the 
 only two at all fit for the country. My 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 Eaby 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, per- 
 haps, 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 chit- 
 terling 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 
 
 * The horse purchased at Tattersall's, together with Gentleman. 
 fThe horse purchased at the recommendation of Sir John Inkleton, and 
 already spoken of. 
 
202 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 finest part of the country for a splitter. 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 Goodall, 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 KABY. 
 
 " The Lord Dauntley, &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 condi- 
 tion, 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 Csesar 
 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 Eaby, and they arrived at 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 203 
 
 Melton in tip-top condition, just one month previous to the 
 conclusion of the 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 dis- 
 tinguished himself ; and it was the general opinion of the best 
 judges amongst the Meltonians and the members of the other 
 Hunts, that Frank Eaby, 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." 
 
CHAPTEK 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. 
 
 THE season concluded, our hero took his departure from 
 Melton, but not without having hired most convenient apart- 
 ments 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 Whit- 
 suntide 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 fort- 
 night : 
 
 " Grosvenor Square, Sunday, April 19. 
 
 " DEAR, BABY, 
 
 " Your account of your doings at Melton delighted me, but 
 not so much as that I have heard from others of your per- 
 formance 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. Trueman 
 says he has tried them high (such are his words), and that 
 Rouge is the second best two-year-old he ever had in his stable. 
 I am just come from TattersaJJ's, and find they are both in the 
 betting; Kouge at only 12 to 1 Euphrosyne at 25. You 
 should employ some one to lay out a hundred for you, chiefly 
 on Eouge, from what Trueman says. He has taken the odds 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 205 
 
 himself to ^50. Make use of me, if you like, as I mean 
 to lay out some money on Eouge 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. Raby. 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 Eouge, 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. Euphro- 
 syne is well, and has good speed, but I doubt she will not 
 stay.* I have taken the odds (12 to 1) to 50 about Kouge, 
 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 Eouge, but, in the classical language of 
 Mr. Trueman, not to meddle with Euphrosyne, and the com- 
 mission 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 difference in the character and deport- 
 ment of his favourite nephew, and in one or two respects not 
 exactly to be 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 
 
 * Anglice is a jade and will die away in a struggle at the last. 
 
206 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ne now and then appeared to be almost 
 absorbed in thought. In fact, Mr. Beaumont Eaby 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 Eaby 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 conse- 
 quence 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 : Eouge 
 was third favourite for the Oaks, the odds being only 8 to 1 
 against her, whereas, with respect to Euphrosyne, they remained 
 at 25. Nevertheless, in consequence of her being in the same 
 stable with Eouge, 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 on 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 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 
 Eouge. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 207 
 
 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 Eouge, and 10 to 1 
 against Euphrosyne, or 6 to 1 against Mr. Darkin's lot. Thus 
 had Kouge gone down four points, whilst Euphrosyne got up 
 fifteen in the betting. 
 
 But one thing surprised Frank Eaby and his friends more 
 than the alteration in the betting ; and this was the fact of the 
 worst jockey being put upon Kouge, 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 Eouge 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. Eaby?" 
 
 " 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 saw them tried, and 
 I have no doubt but that Euphrosyne is five pounds a better 
 mare than Eouge. 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?" 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 Eaby, as he galloped 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 
 
208 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 reply; " I have reason to believe we are all done about Eouge, 
 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, " nowhere." And the summing up of 
 the case was this: Mr. Trueman won 300 by backing Eouge 
 to lose, the money being laid out for him by a friend; and if 
 Euphrosyne had won the race, he would have pocketed 3,000 
 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 loss 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 Eaby, in this foul 
 transaction. He could have sold Eouge for 1,000 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 afterwards sold at about that figure. Euphrosyne, how- 
 ever, 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. Trueman' s bill, he accepted 
 an offer made to him, through Trueman, of 800 guineas for 
 her, which, with no great 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 betray- 
 ing the secret as to whom these fillies belonged; and as our 
 hero had not made any admission to the "leg," who made the 
 
THE LIFE OP A SPORTSMAN. 209 
 
 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 kef" 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 Baby, 
 " 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?" said Lord Dauntley. 
 
 "I must layout upwards of ^1,000 in horseflesh, and I, 
 am at present uncertain whence that sum will be forthcoming." 
 "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 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." 
 
 p 
 
210 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " 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 honourable pro- 
 fession 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, possessing a quick eye, and altogether a very 
 intelligent countenance. 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 gentleman 
 (bowing to our hero) is Mr. Raby. I beg, gentlemen, you will 
 be seated." 
 
 "My friend Mr. Eaby, sir," said Goodall, "is in want of 
 some temporary assistance, and having been recommended to 
 you by my friend Mr. Thornton, I have reason to believe you 
 will render it to him upon fair and honourable 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 accommodation 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 difficulty 
 in this case. I foreclosed a mortgage last year, on a property 
 adjoining the Amstead estate, and, having been some weeks in 
 the neighbourhood, know all about Mr. Raby. I think, sir," 
 contiuued he, addressing himself to our hero, " you are now 
 the only son." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 211 
 
 " 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. 
 
 "Very 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?" 
 
 "No," replied Frank Kaby ; "I only want 2,000 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 ? " 
 
 "No," returned Frank, "annuity won't 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?" 
 
 "Never; 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." 
 
 " Why, let me see," said Mr. Sharpe (placing his hand 
 over his eyes, and resting his elbow on the table): "your 
 
212 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Eaby, he'll hold for a 
 long tug." 
 
 "I hope he may," replied Frank; " but tell me at once 
 what you expect for 2,000 ? " 
 
 " Certainly not less than 5,000, 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. Kaby, 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. Eaby wishes to be kept 
 a secret." 
 
 " Oh, sir," said Mr. Sharpe, with a small smile, " ive never 
 talk of these matters ; we should be cutting our own throats." 
 And so exeunt omnes. 
 
 "Well, Eaby," 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 2,000?" 
 
 " 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." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 213 
 
 " 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 keeps lots of clerks. I am to give 
 5,000 for 2,000, cash down." 
 
 " Well," resumed his noble friend, " all things considered, 
 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 cognizance 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, with 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. 
 Eaby, 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 in- 
 quiring 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. 
 
214 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " 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." 
 
 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. Eaby," 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 acquainted 
 with," resumed Mr. Longbottom. "But you know, sir, 
 lawyers like Mr. Sharpe, in a large way, cannot always com- 
 mand their own time. Pray, Mr. Kaby, be seated." 
 
 "Thank ye," replied Frank Eaby; "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'oeuvre," said his host; "I gave 3,000 
 guineas for that picture, in Eome." 
 
 " And this," resumed our hero. 
 
 " A Correggio," said Longbottom. 
 
 " And this, how beautiful ! " 
 
 " You show your taste, Mr. Eaby; that picture is yours." 
 
 "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 1,000 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. Longbofctom, 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 footman ; and 
 exit Frank Eaby, 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," 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 215 
 
 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. 
 
 " 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 unreasonable in 
 your case." 
 
 " Well," said Frank Kaby, " 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 discretion, and here the matter 
 ended for the present. 
 
 The next day Frank Eaby 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 Eaby, have nothing more to do in this business. 
 As I told you before, I can furnish you with the 2,000 with- 
 out 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 unexecuted deeds is not enforced. As to Mr. Long- 
 bottom, with his chef d'oeuvre, leave him to his fate ; he will, 
 however, 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 : 
 
216 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " Limmer's Hotel, Bond Street, June 4th, 1804. 
 
 " MR. GRIMES, 
 
 " I want to borrow 2,000 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 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 employing a country attorney. 
 
 " In haste, yours, &c., 
 
 " FRANCIS EABY. 
 
 "To Mr. Grimes." 
 
 An answer to this effect was returned by the first post : 
 
 "Ashton Mills, June 7th, 180 4. 
 
 "HoN. SIR, 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you want such a large sum as 2,000. 
 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 salesman, 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, hon. 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 you won't get into no 
 mischief among the gambling gentlemen 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 217 
 
 great favourite at the Abbey, and, although considerably his 
 junior, much in the confidence of Mr. Baby. 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 by Sir John, who, as has been 
 shown, indulged himself in various pursuits, which were con- 
 genial 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 purchase 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 morning call, when no one besides 
 themselves was present, the following expression of sentiments 
 passed between them : 
 
 " I think, Inkleton," said Mr. Eaby, with a smile, "I am 
 indebted to you for the disappointment I have experienced 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 
 
218 THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 
 
 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 
 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 serviceable 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 ? ' 
 
 And, friend Beaumont," continued the baronet, " as you are 
 
 fond of a classical allusion, I refer you to something 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 219 
 
 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 power, either to procure to it many and great advan- 
 tages, 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 unwearied in his endea- 
 vours 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. Beau- 
 mont Eaby, " 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? 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 
 
220 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 enemies, that not a syllable 
 he 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. Eaby, 
 " 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, 
 would 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 an 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 unex- 
 pectedly; 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, Kaby," 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 advan- 
 tage 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, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 221 
 
 and an occasional tip from his kind uncle (here the uncle 
 smiled, which, of course, implied assent), he may afford to 
 increase it to six, and a hack or two : and without that numher 
 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, 1 ' interrupted Mr. Beaumont Eaby. 
 
 "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, Eaby, 
 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 gentlemen; 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 communi- 
 cating 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 Eaby, inasmuch as, in the overflow of. 
 
222 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 his heart, he determined upon 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 ex- 
 pression: 
 
 "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 con- 
 clusion 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 Warwick- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 223 
 
 shire ; of Mr. Musters, in Nottinghamshire ; of Lord Dar- 
 lington and Mr. Ealph Lambton, in Durham; Mr. Leche and 
 Sir Eichard Puleston, in Cheshire; Mr. Farquharson, in 
 Dorsetshire; Lord Fitzwilliam, in Huntingdonshire and Cam- 
 bridgeshire; and Lord Vernon, in the Atherstone country. 
 The masters of these hounds are all of them eminent sports- 
 men, 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 reputation 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 exploits gave 
 birth to them.* 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. 
 
 * As Horace says of Anacreon, to relish this poem we should transport our- 
 selves, in idea, to the time in which it was written ; but one of its great recom- 
 mendations 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 con- 
 spicuous 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 carry- 
 ing him through a famous run. Again, for the sake of the rhyme, justice is not 
 done to the Hon. Martin Hawke, 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. 
 
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 par- 
 taken 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 con- 
 stitution, consequently, 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 sports- 
 men 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 Eaby 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 regu- 
 larity was observed in every part of the establishment. But 
 what most struck our young sportsman, as regarded the esta- 
 blishment, was, the perfect little Welsh colony that was 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 225 
 
 established in this part of England by Sir Thomas Mostyn 
 and his connections, 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 
 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 
 eclat. 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 maybe called a menial situation was 300 per annum, 
 with a servant to arrange his apartment ! And then his 
 horsemanship also surprised Frank Eaby. 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 extra- 
 ordinary 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, pre- 
 viously 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 
 
 Q 
 
226 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 little to his satisfaction, and, throwing him to the pack, who 
 were helow him, on very slanting ground, and hallooing 
 " Who-woop ! " most lustily, expected to see him devoured. 
 But no ; the nature of the ground favoured him ; the hounds 
 overshot their mark, and reynard rolling himself over, escaped 
 all their mouths, and hade 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 Eaby, 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, inas- 
 much 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 horseman, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 227 
 
 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, was by no means disadvantageous to our young 
 sportsman as an example. 
 
 And what did Frank Kaby 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: 
 
 " Bicester, November 30th, 1810. 
 
 " DEAR HARGRAVE, 
 
 " I have spent the month of November 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 
 Bocldington 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), espe- 
 cially, 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, 
 
228 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 who anticipated injury 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 be, good judges say. $ome 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, however, 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 Grafton's pack. You 
 would be much pleased with Eose, their huntsman, better 
 known as ' Tom Eose.' 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 Eose 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 elite, 
 ' 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 229 
 
 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 the eye, which shows how his heart and soul are absorbed 
 in the sport. 
 
 " We had a fine run yesterday, from a cover called Graven- 
 hill, 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 exchanged 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 
 jumpalle 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 Eoodings 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. Eacing, 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 
 
230 TEE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ! 
 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 j 
 
 Its exercise sweetens the blood ; 
 How happy those mortals must live, 
 
 When sport yields both physic and food ! 
 So new and so varied their 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 Hargrave, truly yours, 
 
 "FRANK KABY. 
 
 "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, 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 I am alluding, 
 performed the Herculean task of walking 1,000 miles in 1,000 
 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 some- 
 what 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 sportsman, as 
 well as an excellent judge of a hunter ; and on the subject of 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 231 
 
 the latter, offered his friend Eaby 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. I get 
 into the saddle full fourteen stone, notwithstanding 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 pur- 
 chase 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 more than 500 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." * 
 
 " And is it possible," continued Frank Eaby, " that a man 
 of your athletic make can be a fast runner ?" 
 
 * The boxes of all public coaches were not at this period on springs, as they 
 subsequently were. 
 
232 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " I never ran more than one match," replied Captain 
 Barclay, " ray 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 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 distinguishes 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, experi- 
 ence has shown that cruel sports do not create a cr.uel people ; 
 and, strange to say, the love of gladiators among the Romans 
 increased as the people began to be civilized, and as their 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 233 
 
 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 pane- 
 gyric on the still 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 con- 
 trary, that they excited the courage of the spectators ; 
 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 
 ease, 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 unequivocal 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 cha- 
 racteristic 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 advantages ; 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 
 
234 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 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 dis- 
 courages 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 corroborated by the well- 
 known fact that, in Lancashire, where fair boxing is very 
 little resorted to in quarrels, there are forty cases of man- 
 slaughter 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 evi- 
 dence 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 ? 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, emphatically ; " 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 wit- 
 nessed 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 235 
 
 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 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 English- 
 men did not as much as come within the definition 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 sentimentality, 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 oppor- 
 tunity 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 attributed. 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 
 
236 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 lamentable change in the English character he was sure the 
 jury would not allow themselves to be made instrumental.' " 
 
 "May I ask what was the result of the trial?" said the 
 Captain. 
 
 "Why," replied our hero, "the chairman told the jury 
 that the learned counsel had given a wrong interpretation 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 Eaby; "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 expedient 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, at this moment, recollect what my father said 
 on the subject," replied Eaby; "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 Athletae, 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 exhi- 
 bitions continue in the Boman state after it ceased to be pagan. 
 Secondly, although it might have been good policy in the 
 Eomans 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 Eome 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, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 237 
 
 such exhibitions 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 descriptions of single 
 combats with the fist or the cestus those between Pollux and 
 Amycus, so admirably told by Theocritus in his twenty-second 
 Idyllium, and between Dares and Entellus, in the fifth ^Eneid 
 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, re- 
 minding me of Milton's description of the angel, whose 
 
 " starry helm unbuckled, show'd him prime 
 
 In manhood." * 
 
 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 com- 
 petency sufficient to render his situation agreeable to him. 
 Unwilling to be idle, however, he became a teacher of gym- 
 nastic exercises, and was, in his own person, the best example 
 
 * What can be finer, or more true to the life, than Virgil's description, in the 
 fifth JEneid, of Entellus stripping in the ring ? 
 
 " Hie fatus, duplicem ex humeris refecit amiclum ; 
 Et magnos membrorum artus magna ossa lacertosque 
 Exuit; atque ingens 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. 
 
238 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 of their beneficial effects in improving the health and in- 
 creasing the strength and beauty of the human figure.' ' 
 
 "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 dispraise ; 
 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, favour- 
 able to the pursuit in question. In the first place, I echoed 
 your words, namely, that the love of gladiatorial exhibitions, 
 among the Komans, 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 en- 
 forced ; and, centuries after that period, it was owing to 
 Alexander the Great sending 30,000 children, of the best 
 families, ta 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.* 
 Amongst the characters of fiction, equal honours have been 
 given to those who distinguished themselves in pugilistic 
 encounters ; and the circumstance of the dandy, Dares, 
 
 * 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 239 
 
 thrashing the huge Entellus, shows that the use of the fists 
 was by no means beneath the practice of a gentleman. 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 under- 
 stand 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.* 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!!!" 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 
 
 * 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 suppose, 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. 
 
240 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 Captain, " I would have told your uncle that, although the in- 
 vention of gunpowder has put men more on an equality in 
 battle, still, as has been proved in our numerous and gene- 
 rally 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 hynanometer (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 im- 
 provement 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 circum- 
 stances, 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.* The mechanical con- 
 struction 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 gene- 
 rally considered, or it would cause many to withdraw them- 
 selves 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 substantial food, with good malt liquor, or water, 
 
 * 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 j and it was found by this contrivance that a man could stand under 2,000 
 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 241 
 
 and not through the means of soups, jellies, or rich sauces, 
 and 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 invigor- 
 ated, 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? Kely 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 thousands of their fellow-men are. looking on, for 
 their amusement, is undoubtedly opposed to Chris.tian 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 injuries. 
 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 respectable 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-sworl, or single-stick 
 
 R 
 
242 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 as 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 swords- 
 men in the army of the present day, having derived his 
 superiority from the constant use of the back-sword while at 
 Eugby school." 
 
 The season drawing to a close, and Frank Eaby, not con- 
 sidering 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. Eobson, 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, Eobson," 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 vary 
 good prospect of a fine bite of grass in the park by May-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, Eobson," 
 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' consumption, and a one-horse cart at command, to 
 carry hay and corn." 
 
 " Hay and corn ! " exclaimed Eobson ; " why surely, sir, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 243 
 
 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 Eaby ; "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 sportsman; 
 " there is no purpose to which you can put them, that will pay 
 half as well as that for which they are required by me. But 
 do not alarm yourself, Eobson ; 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 good- 
 ness 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 by 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 was obliged to be kept at house 
 
244 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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?" 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 very last day but one, the Squire was saying he 
 wished you had 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 nineteen horsemen, 
 six only were up when we killed the hare." 
 
 "Horsemen!" said our hero, contemptuously, "what sort 
 of horsemen?" 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 245 
 
 "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 Lest 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 Leicestershire 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 Eaby 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 satisfaction. 
 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?" 
 
 " 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 
 
246 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 back him, indeed, to kill magpies against any keeper in 
 England." 
 
 " How does he go to work?" inquired Frank Eaby. 
 
 "Why, sir, perhaps you will smile when I tell you," 
 answered the keeper ; "he gets a live magpie and a cat, and 
 has them staked down near 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 on, 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 Eoyal Highness on the excellence of 
 his cook, adding that he supposed * there was only one pie 
 which baffled his skill.' 'What pie is that?' inquired the 
 Prince. ' Why, sir,' replied the wag, 'he cannot make a 
 magpie.'" 
 
 "And how are you off for foxes?" continued Frank Baby. 
 " 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 overnight 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 ?" 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 days afterwards, 
 by one of our woodmen, in the Birch Coppice. Jack imme- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 247 
 
 diately told me of what had 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 sports- 
 man. " 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 Eaby 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. Kaby he 
 observed little, if any, visible alteration either in person or 
 manner. As regarded the former, his uniform habits of life, 
 a naturally sound constitution, 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 recollection 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 watery cloud, but 
 
248 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 obscured nearly as suddenly as it bursts forth. Such vicissi- 
 tudes 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 
 mind 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 pic- 
 ture, 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 frost nip promising buds, 
 And lovely blossoms, then the heart grows sad 
 To see those troth-plights of much after riches 
 Untimely broken j " 
 
 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 Eaby 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 249 
 
 also revived to a certain degree, and that was as much as 
 could be expected ; 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 Oxford- 
 shire ; 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 Amstead, it having been pre- 
 sented to him by Mr. Kaby on the decease of Dr. Chapman ; 
 was married at the end of the twelvemonth 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 con- 
 struction of them. Each hovel contained two horses, which 
 were shut up in them at 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 con- 
 fined 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 ob- 
 served. 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 regu- 
 lated accordingly. In the case of two, indeed, such was their 
 aptitude to gather flesh, >hat, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 251 
 
 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 hunting 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 trifling diminution of muscular 
 powers, in the third. The feet of these horse 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 off 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. Eobson the 
 steward, Dick the huntsman, and Frank Baby'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 your- 
 selves at your pleasure in the park, after the hardships 
 you have undergone. And" (addressing himself to James 
 the groom), said he, "who put all this new fashion into 
 Mr. Francis's head?" 
 
 " Lord Sandford's groom, sir," replied James. 
 
 "And are you not sorry, James, that your master listened 
 
252 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 to him ? are you not sorry to see the poor beasts shut up 
 after this manner?" 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 half 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 morning, along with our horses, espe- 
 cially 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 these 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 tor- 
 mented 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 daylong, And" (address- 
 ing 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. Eobson, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 253 
 
 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. Kobson, "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 con- 
 dition 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 2,000 in 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 following 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. 
 "I 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 Corses, fully answered the expectations of our 
 
254 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 young sportsman and his groom the latter, indeed, feeling 
 proud of them, and, of course, claiming the merit to himself. 
 After a fortnight's hare-hunting with his father, Frank Eaby 
 and his stud made their appearance in Warwickshire. But 
 why select Warwickshire, when other and more fashionable 
 countries were at his option -Leicestershire, Northampton- 
 shire, &c. ? The answer is comprised in a few words. 
 Neither his purse nor his stud were then equal to Leicester- 
 shire, 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 head- 
 quarters of the Hunt were established. And who was the 
 gentleman who then hunted Warwickshire, and 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 parti- 
 cular friends, that Frank Eaby 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 pre- 
 ference to any other, was urged upon him. 
 
 "I see a little of it," said Mr. Eaby to his son, when dis- 
 cussing 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 foxhounds, 
 Mr. Corbet was considered a pattern-card ; and as Mr. Eaby 
 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 255 
 
 eminent 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 : 
 
 " Stratford-upon-Avon, Dec. 9, 
 
 " DEAR HARGRAVE, 
 
 " I am delighted with all I have hitherto seen in Warwick- 
 shire. 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 
 the most proper man I have ever yet seen as a master of fox- 
 hounds, and as such, of course, popular amongst all descrip- 
 tions 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 any- 
 thing approaching to a Jarge 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 admira- 
 tion. 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 encour- 
 ages 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, nqt a bad hint for us who hope one 
 
256 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 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 under- 
 stand 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. This 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 charac- 
 teristic of the hound alluded to ; and his after -performances 
 being on a par with it, he 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 professed 
 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 Northampton- 
 shire side of the country ^ there is as fine a grazing district as 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 257 
 
 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, speaking 
 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. 
 
 " I have been elected a member of the Stratford Hunt 
 Club, who 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 Eobert. 
 The elder rides, at least, seventeen stone and a half, and 
 Eobert sixteen stone; notwithstanding which, not a light- 
 weight in the country can beat them ; in fact, Eobert 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 returning home 
 
258 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 after hunting, when he may be called the oracle of the field. 
 ' Which is the best way ? ' says one. ' Ask Eobert 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 flutter ; and I have already 
 derived more instruction 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 molest- 
 ing 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 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 
 1,000 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 ten 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 of 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 which he has sold his 
 horses, after distinguishing themselves under his weight 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 259 
 
 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 New- 
 bold Field, and leap a large fence into Lord Northampton's 
 park afterwards. So anxious was the gentleman who pur- 
 chased him to possess himself of such a treasure, that he 
 sent an express off, in the night of the day on which the cir- 
 cumstance 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 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 accom- 
 plished 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 no- 
 where else to be found. His name is Stibbs, and so inveterate 
 a lover of the chase is he, that he is not contented with hunt- 
 
260 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 ing 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 in- 
 formed, 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 
 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. However, a de- 
 scription 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 Kev. 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 j 
 
 Of lore, 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 aky, 
 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 261 
 
 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 in 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 ! 
 
 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 ! asTc not his name. 
 
 Tallyho ! tallyho ! how together they go ! 
 
 Once more, wet and weary, poor Eeynard 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 
 
262 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 black- 
 thorn 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 no business in Warwick- 
 shire, for some part of it is infernally deep, especially on the 
 breaking up of a frost. I saw every horse blown to a stand- 
 still in twelve minutes, the other day, in the neighbourhood of 
 Southon, which is the deepest part of any. It was a ridi- 
 culous scene, when about a dozen of us came to a low gate, 
 which none of our horses had the power to leap. Eobert 
 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 huntsman, 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 distinguished as being composed of a select 
 number of gentlemen, of high character in their calling, and 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 263 
 
 everything in Lord Varney's hunt was conducted with a pro- 
 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 Stafford- 
 shire 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 
 Kaby to his friend Hargrave, inasmuch as, amongst other 
 matters, it has reference to the doings of Melton men, in 
 conjunction with those of some of the conspicuous characters 
 of Lord Varney'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 de- 
 serving 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 distinguish 
 the English gentleman, together with as much of the con- 
 sciousness of superiority in society as, 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, con- 
 sidering him to be everything that a huntsman should be ; 
 and when I tell you that 1,000 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 
 
264 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 extraordinary 
 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 rara 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, his mare is of equally diminutive size ; neverthe- 
 less, 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 cele- 
 brated 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, ' Now I'll break his d d neck.' 
 
 But the neck of the tanner was spared, perhaps, by a fortunate 
 occurrence. The celebrated 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 265 
 
 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. Next, it 
 being known that a number of the Quornites, as Dick Knight 
 called them, had signified their intention of being out with 
 Lord Yernon'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 speaking, 
 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 description of the interesting scene ? 
 An epicure cannot judge of a dish of meat by the palate of 
 another ; a musician 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 in- 
 competent. However, let me try what I can -do. 
 
 " The fixture was Bosworth on the very ground on which 
 Bichard 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 distin- 
 guished, 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 Baven, Meynell's 
 old huntsman, but now Lord Sefton'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 
 
266 THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 
 
 in my life. He calls one Plato, and the other Eowland, and 
 they cost him no less than 1,800 guineas. Then their condi- 
 tion 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 grass. 
 
 " As you may suppose, we made the best turn-out in our 
 power, on this day, from this side the country, 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 1,000 guineas were 
 offered. We all, indeed, skimmed the cream of our studs, 
 myself upon 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 Sam 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, jealousy, must have operated to their dis- 
 advantage. 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 Kichard were thrown, 
 and which, even to this day, the country people believe to be 
 tinged with blood and a small ozier-bed very soon presented 
 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 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 267 
 
 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 a little on landing, he kept his legs, 
 and went on. Here 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, 
 however, 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 ?' 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 Yemenites well with them at the end, and about an 
 equal number of each say a dozen or fifteen in not a bad 
 
268 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 recommend 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 owner of them, than for their performances in the 
 field. I allude to Mr. Adderley, who is one of the breed of 
 English country gentlemen of the old school most polite, 
 most unaffected, 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. 
 
 " FBANOIS KABY." 
 
CHAPTEB XV. 
 
 The death of Mr. Beaumont Eaby, and the installation of the hero into a regular 
 sporting establishment, the details of which are given at some length. 
 
 ON 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, 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 
 Kaby. 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 consola- 
 tion in this evil hour, and that is in the station I now hold 
 in society being about to be filled by yourself. You will suc- 
 ceed 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 
 
270 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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, con- 
 cealing 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 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 Eeason 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 Baby's constitution 
 had, to a certain extent, rallied after parsing a tranquil night, 
 in which sleep that vis medicatrix natura 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 ^61,000 to Mr. Egerton, 
 " as a mark of gratitude for his having instilled those notions 
 of propriety into his nephew that would not fail to benefit him 
 through life; " WQ to one of his oldest 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 271 
 
 beloved nephew, Francis Eaby, 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 pre- 
 vented 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 con- 
 veyed to the family vault at Amstead ; and in the course of a 
 few months, a plain but neat monument was erected to his 
 memory, having the following simple inscription, from the pen 
 of his afflicted brother : 
 
 Saxrtb to the 
 
 OP 
 
 BEAUMONT RABY, ESQUIRE, 
 
 YOUNGEST SON OF ANDREW AND THE HONOURABLE MARTHA ALICIA 
 
 RABY, OF 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 ACCOMPLISHED GFNTLEMAN. 
 
 THIS SIMPLE MONUMENT, ACCORDING WITH THE UNPRETENDING CHARACTER 
 
 OF THE DECEASED, IS HERE PLACED BY HIS AFFECTIONATE 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 
 
272 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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, fifthty, 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. 
 
 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 ^4,700 a year at his command, in a fine old mansion, 
 whose grounds opened into the great Holyhead Eoad, which, 
 even at that period, was one of the b.est in England, and, from 
 the numerous coaches running upon it, the most interesting 
 and amusing to a person who, like our ^iero, 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 excel- 
 lent road ; the manor sufficiently abounded with game. Fox- 
 hounds 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 agrcmens 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 273 
 
 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 dis- 
 ease 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 Eaby had got together, 
 consisting of seven greys for, like Camillus* of old, that was 
 his favourite colour one black, and two chesnut 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 having 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 
 
 * History informs us, that Camillas gave great offence to the Romans, by being 
 carried through Rome in his charriot, drawn by four grey horses, no general, either 
 before or since, having done the same ; grey horses were then held sacred. 
 
 T 
 
274 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 ten horses were considered not badly bought at 900, espe- 
 cially 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 
 Eaby, 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, 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 pro- 
 curing 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 275 
 
 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 the honour lies : " 
 
 concluding, in the more humble language of prose, with de- 
 claring that he believed he could say what no other road 
 coachman in England could say ; namely, that he not only 
 never upset his coach, but that he put every shilling he received 
 on the bill. We will now give his answer, apologizing 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 Eaby 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." 
 
276 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 Frank Eaby. " Then why was he sold ? " 
 
 Jack Webber. " For two reasons. First, he fetched a good 
 price from a young carpet-manufacturer in the Borough, who 
 went down 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." 
 
 Frank Eaby. " And what did he do with the carpet-manu- 
 facturer?" 
 
 Jack Webber. " Frightened him out of his wits the first 
 time he put him to his drag." 
 
 Frank Eaby. " 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 off 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-manufacturer, 
 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 Eaby. " Eather queerly, the first time, because he 
 did not like his side j 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 any- 
 where 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 Bengewqrth, 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 Eaby. " How did they manage her at the down 
 change ? ' ' 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 277 
 
 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 
 ahout 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-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 Baby. " 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, Baby, 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 ?" 
 
278 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 Frank Eaby. " One set of road-harness and the pair-horse 
 are from Whippy ; the other set of the former from Laurie 
 the two hest 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, Eaby, and you have 
 gone to a good market. And your whips ?" 
 
 Frank Eaby. " 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 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 exhausted, 
 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 provocation 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 in- 
 flamed." 
 
 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 279 
 
 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 Eaby. " 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." 
 
 Frank Eaby. "Just describe this strap." 
 
 Sir John. " I 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 ready within reach, to receive the tongues of 
 the buckles." 
 
 Somerby. "But, Eaby, where are the hunters?" 
 
 Frank Eaby. " 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." 
 
 Hargrave. " My horses are treated after your plan this 
 summer, and I expect the greatest benefit from it, next 
 season." 
 
 Frank Eaby. "Depend upon it you will not be disap- 
 pointed. I had a remarkable proof of the superiority of con- 
 dition 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 
 
280 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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. Every- 
 thing, however, in the shape of liquids, that could be improved 
 by it, was iced, even to the home-brewed small beer no very 
 contemptible 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 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 calcu- 
 lated at 1,200 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 Mecaenas of guards and 
 coachmen, I understand, Inkleton. At all events, your name 
 is known to all that I have ever come in 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 improve- 
 ment amongst them, on my road, from the notice I have taken 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 281 
 
 of them. They are aware that good conduct is their only 
 passport to my favour." 
 
 Lord Edmonston. "And is it true, Inkleton, that the ex- 
 penses of a stud of twelve hunters and two hacks, at Melton, 
 amount to 1,200 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, 2,500 a year for horses only! 
 It will make a big hole in the 5,000 a year, eh ? 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 Eaby. " 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 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 Kobins's best puffs, it will fetch 10,000. That 
 would give me another 1,000 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 Eaby. " 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. Eemember 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 Eaby. " The legs ! " 
 
282 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 Hargrave. " Yes ; what chance would yon 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 Eaymond. I understand he has lost his last 
 shilling, and is at this time in prison." 
 
 Frank Eaby. " 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." 
 
 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 dis- 
 tressed 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 Eaby. " 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, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 283 
 
 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. Gentlemen'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 sufficiently free workers, 
 one slug, and a raking (fretful) leader." 
 
 Sir John. " 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 
 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,' 
 
284 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 nearest 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, consequently, much of the draught is lost 
 in the angles they describe.' ' 
 
 Frank Raby. " 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 confinement 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?" 
 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." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 285 
 
 Frank Baby. " One of my wheel-horses is playful, and has 
 twice kicked over his trace. Should I work him in a kicking- 
 trace ?" 
 
 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 ! What are you talking about ? 
 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 " 
 
 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." 
 
286 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 a wheel-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 which 
 were given to me by one of the best judges of everything that 
 belongs to the amateur coach-box, at this time in England. It 
 is best to put a young horse in, the first time t 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 287 
 
 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 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 frequently 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 of punishment that, in my opinion, 
 should never be inflicted 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." 
 
 Har grave. " 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 surprised 
 at the result. The draught of a horse in harness is thus 
 calculated. On good pavement 331b. ; on broken stone 
 surface 651b. ; on broken stone, hard bound 451b. ; on 
 loose gravel 147lb. ! 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 
 
288 THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 
 
 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 ' coaching,' 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 Eoman 
 consul, drove his own chariot." 
 
 Lord Edmonston. "Yes, but only by night, untit 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 training as Lord 
 Grosvenor has racers ; and, be it remembered 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 (Enomaus. 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 ^Eneid, where 
 the sudden and artful turns, which the goddess Juturna gave 
 to her brother's chariot to avoid the pursuit of ^neas, 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 Peyton 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.' Now 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 LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 289 
 
 the funeral games of Patroclus ; and where, although the worst 
 horsed of the lot, he was only beaten hy a length ? For myself, 
 although no coachman heyond 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?" 
 
 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 deviation from that course disturbs the 
 centre of gravity in 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 suffer- 
 ings 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, 
 
 u 
 
290 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Bugby 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?" 
 
 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 rhinoceros, 
 whose history is not given us in scripture, but mentioned by 
 Moses, as having the strength of God ; or 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 Raby. " 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 : 
 
 PAEODY 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 j 
 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, &o. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 291 
 
 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 sayj 
 Nor was she ever once afraid that he would go astray. 
 
 For Adam, &c. 
 
 And Eve, unlike our women now, in bows and frills ne'er drest, 
 Nor ever drank or gin or tea now was not Adam blest ? 
 Her neighbours she ne'er scandalized, nor treated them with scorn, 
 She was the pink of women then, because none else were born. 
 
 For Adam, &c. 
 
 Old Adam ne'er example took by other people's ways, 
 Nor ever went to routs or balls, to concerts or to plays j 
 For concert-rooms and playhouses, they were not builb then, 
 And Eve was never once accused of flirting with the men. 
 
 For Adam, &o. 
 
 At last poor Adam's days had run their course, and then, poor man, he 
 Nor was there even one stood weeping by his bed-side j [died, 
 
 Without a good oak coffin they laid him in his clay, 
 Nor were they afraid of body-snatchers stealing him away. 
 
 For Adam, &o. 
 
 Frank Raby. " Well done, 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 
 
292 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 entering it, four 
 vacant stalls were observed, Jack Webber exclaimed : 
 
 " Hey-day, Frank ! what is become of your skewbald team?" 
 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 Townley Park, twelve miles 
 further, to call on that excellent fellow, as well as 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 seeing 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 instructions 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 the horses was light ; his 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 293 
 
 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 hopes we 
 shall find Sir Harry well. He is a worthy gentleman, and a 
 good friend to us coachmen ; and (looking 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 Eaby. 
 " 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, 
 
294 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Eaby, 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 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, Jem?" 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 his 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, 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 295 
 
 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." 
 
 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 every- 
 body knew Parson Smith the cleverest parson in the country. 
 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." 
 
 "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 bulldog, 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. Eaby, 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." 
 
296 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 "Do you recollect what arguments he made use of?" in- 
 quired Har grave. 
 
 "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 dam. 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 mean, Jem," said Frank Eaby. 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder," resumed Jem; "but this is my 
 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 pur- 
 pose of gambling on the event.' " 
 
 "Did your friend say anything about hunting?" 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 Har- 
 grave. 
 
 " Just so," said Jem ; " they acts of their own accord, he 
 told me ; the whole is an indulgence of their natural propen- 
 sities, as you call 'em." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 297 
 
 " But the game they hunt, what did he say of it ?" continued 
 Har grave. 
 
 " Well, to be sure," replied Jem, "he said it must be any- 
 thing 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 gamecock 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 and carriage, 
 together with his high-beaming eye, rank him in the highest 
 class of birds." 
 
 "All very true," said Hargrave ; "but without defending 
 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-attested instance of this on 
 
298 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ascer- 
 tained 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 Eclipse is, to this day, entailed 
 on some of his blood, although distant several generations from 
 the original." 
 
 "Similar phenomena," observed Houghton, "are observable 
 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 bizaune." 
 
 " 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 cockpit 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 290 
 
 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 properly 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 introduce 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 - " 
 
 " Beg pardon, my Lord, for interrupting you," said Jem ; 
 and, touching our hero on the shoulder, thus quaintly ad- 
 dressed him : " Beg pardon, Mr. Eaby, 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 up to him, and he will not pull you so much. 
 But Til 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 
 
 " 
 
 Like a newly-greased wheel eh, Jem?" said Jack 
 Webber. 
 
300 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 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 appetite. And by rather a 
 curious coincidence, at the very moment at 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, 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 
 party, which we will relate in the dialogical form, as saving 
 some trouble : 
 
 Sir Harry. " Glad to see you on your own box, Eaby ; 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 me, 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, 
 out of the pigskin." 
 
 Frank Eaby. " 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 301 
 
 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 : 
 
 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 system, 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 
 
302 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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, 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 off 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 himself 
 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 homeward, allowing them- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 308 
 
 selves 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 educa- 
 tion of a coachman. I did not jump from off some country 
 gentleman's pair-horse coach-box, or from behind a counter in 
 a coach-office, 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 before 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 ? " 
 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 thg 
 
304 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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- 
 kind, I thought I had best leave them alone. And it was a 
 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 warn't," 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 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 Webber ; " 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 supported 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 my place." 
 
 " What you have told us is much to your credit," said 
 Frank Eaby, " and it is no wonder that you have so many 
 friends." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 305 
 
 "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." 
 
 " No 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. I am no 
 drinker, nor would I advise any coachman to be such, particu- 
 larly 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 every-day 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 
 1,500 a year." 
 
 " And a park ? " said Kaby. 
 
 "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. Eaby. ' By the powers ! ' said he, * but I 
 
306 THE LIFE OF A SPOBTSMAN. 
 
 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 nobleman, 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, ' Why, sir, you 
 seems very intimate with that there Lord.' ' 
 
 " Capital ! " exclaimed Lord Edmonston ; " Junius himself 
 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 by 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 307 
 
 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. Depend 
 upon this, my Lord, we little ones borrows many vices from 
 you great ones; and you great ones, now and then I ax 
 pardon, my Lord borrows from us little ones. When gentle- 
 men 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 
 sav > by some kind of machinery which it is not in my power 
 
308 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 know- 
 ledge ; 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 locomotive power, pro- 
 duced 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 disturbed, but I 
 thought it a sad complicated piece of workmanship, and, for 
 my own part, I would as soon ride in a waggon." 
 
 " Well," said Jem, " we must not find fault with all those 
 busybodys, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 309 
 
 Lord Eclmonston, " by the uniting of its own spiculae, 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 did not know what a good road is. 
 The large stones previously 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 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 required 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 
 
310 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 us? 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 Eaby, " 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, 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 par- 
 ticular about the pole fitting tight in the furchells. Once a 
 pole begins to swag in the furchells, 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 I 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 311 
 
 minds his business. Poor things ! 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 gentle- 
 men's hunters are ; indeed, people say I shall spoil the coach* 
 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 Birmingham for?' 'My fare, sir,' said I, 'is fifteen 
 shillings.' ' I can go by the Kora (Aurora),' said he, ' for 
 ten.' <JNo 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 Kora." 
 
 " Of what description?" asked Lord Edmonston. 
 
 " They was a-galloping, my Lord, against the opposition, 
 which was just behind them, and over they went." 
 
 " And was anyone hurt ?" 
 
 " 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. 
 
 " / calls it cheating 'em out of half the opposite hill," said 
 Jem. 
 
 * Which he did. 
 
312 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 "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. Eaby, 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 
 
 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 ?" asked Webber. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 313 
 
 " 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 off 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 door of their owner, with 
 scarcely a wet hair on their skins, 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, Baby," 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 alto- 
 gether, 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.* Have 
 you enjoyed yourself to-day, Edmonston?" 
 
 * It is t be lamented that there is no print in existence of this thorough-bred 
 coachman, who was the beau-ideal of his calling. 
 
314 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " 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 like an equality with our- 
 selves, we make them conceited, and, consequently, destroy 
 subordination. And the example 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 mortifica- 
 tion 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 profit- 
 ably employed. The devil, they say, always employs an idle 
 man, but I was too busy for him, and he left me alone. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 315 
 
 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 and heard, I returned 
 to my own country a more charitable 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 conti- 
 nent, but perceiving I did not exactly respond to his sugges- 
 tion, 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 longing 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 un- 
 wholesome and somewhat tainted atmosphere of courts, little 
 advantage is to be gained by it." 
 
CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 The B.D.C., and B.C.M. Our Sportsman makes a tour, in which he visits many 
 of the most celebrated fox-hunting establishments 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 
 he 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. Eichmond 
 was also another of his favourite rendezvous, 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 up by coming in 
 contact with some iron paling, enclosing a gentleman's 
 grounds. " A dreadful smash, of course a case for the 
 coroner!" methinks I hear my reader exclaim. Two horses 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 317 
 
 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 occa- 
 sion, 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 the 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 about the thickness 
 of a mop handle, which were attached to each pair of the 
 waggon-horses, to prevent their leaning 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 Eaby 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 Eoad, then kept by a person named Harvey, 
 famous for his beefsteaks, as 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 informed that his health was 
 that moment about to be drunk by the members, with three 
 times three. The Prince afterwards acknowledged the compli- 
 ment 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 mem- 
 
318 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 ber of this club. His name was Price. His scene of action 
 was on the Great Western Koad, 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 waist- 
 coat, 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 
 coachman 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 ? 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 what I call a revolution ! ' ' 
 
 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 gene- 
 rally 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 LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 319 
 
 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 vieing 
 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 Eaby and 
 his team, as he entered the square on the first 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 Salton'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 hand- 
 some 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 off leader was pronounced 
 all-sufficient and business-like, although, as might have been 
 expected, not first-rate ; the premiership 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 
 
320 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 
 honourable 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 neighbourhood, 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 Eaby, 
 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 gentle- 
 men 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 departments, no one will feel dis- 
 posed 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 321 
 
 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, indepen- 
 dently 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 care- 
 less or too ignorant to be informed. In short, to the amateur 
 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 axletrees 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 axletree 
 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 
 
 Y 
 
822 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 con- 
 versing, as was his custom, with every artificer he could get 
 hold of in his walks ? 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 import- 
 ance, you are not disgusted by insolence to the inferior class 
 of passengers on their coaches ; neither are your feelings out- 
 raged by unnecessary cruelty to the animals placed under 
 their control, and, by consequence, at their mercy. I was 
 gratified, indeed, by an answer 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 gentlemen 
 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 his Nestor the wisest man and the best coachman of 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 323 
 
 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 ? 
 
 ' 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 host to arms ? ' 
 
 But is he not so minutely faithful to this part of his subject, 
 that, at the funeral games of Patroclus, he represents Mene- 
 laus 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 song ? Allow me, then, to propose that we 
 drink a bumper to ' Success to the Koad ! 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 
 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. Phi- 
 losophers tell us,' added he, 'that wit consists in quickly 
 assembling our ideas, and putting them together in an instant.' 
 Now, as analogy is but the resemblance between things, with 
 regard to circumstances or effects, may there not be some- 
 thing 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 
 
824 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 remarks and replies, and compressing 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, leav- 
 ing 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 two- 
 fold object in view, with respect to this horse. If he did not 
 win the stakes, he was convinced he 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 
 Eaby, " 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 Har- 
 grave. 
 
 " Only to a small amount," replied Eaby "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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 325 
 
 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 Koyal 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. Baby, 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. 
 
 "Now, sir, if you please," said his 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." 
 
326 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " 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 ; "by 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 winning by 
 the admirable jockeyship of Lord Solville. 
 
 And now for the scene at the scales. 
 
 "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, 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 by 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." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 327 
 
 " 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, however, 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 performance ; 
 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 which 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 dis- 
 tance for 500 guineas a side. Try the 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 con- 
 vinced 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 under- 
 take " 
 
 " We will talk about your duty, &c., at another time," said 
 Kaby ; " 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. Baby," said Mr. Lilly, for 
 
328 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 that was the name of the artist who brought Nameless 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 between 
 Nameless and Antonio, same weight 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 yes- 
 terday, 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 race of the day. Your early answer will oblige, 
 
 " Yours faithfully, &c., 
 
 " A. PORTMORE. 
 
 " To Francis Raby, 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 incre- 
 dulous 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." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 329 
 
 On the waiter appearing with some letter-paper, and being 
 ordered to send immediately for Lilly, the following answer was 
 penned, and as instantly dispatched to Mr. Portmore : 
 
 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 ex- 
 perienced 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 BABY. 
 
 " 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 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 you 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 Eaby, " 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 
 
330 THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 
 
 called upon to perform. Nothing, next to the struggle of the 
 last few 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 expe- 
 rience 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 espe- 
 cially though this will not be your case with idle or lurch- 
 ing horses, which, when leading, require urging 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 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. 
 
 " JVo," answered Eaby, 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 331 
 
 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 comes 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 un- 
 necessary, 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, 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." 
 
332 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 The crowd at the starting-post evinced the interest which 
 this race created, and several opinions were expressed. 
 
 " 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 bystander. 
 
 " Bring the young one in handsomely, George," said a 
 third. 
 
 " They are off ! Ha ! ha ! " exclaimed an old hand on the 
 turf; " the young 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 con- 
 tinue 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 appear- 
 ance of having upset him by the severe play he had made, 
 looking back at his opponent, when a good opportunity pre- 
 sented 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, and 
 only dead beat. In fact, he was beaten in the first mile, but 
 
THE LIFE OP A SPOKESMAN. 333 
 
 our hero came in a clear length in front, and without stirring 
 a hand, still less a foot. The congratulations 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." 
 
 "Who would have thought it?" grumbled Q'Hara : "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. Baby," said Colonel Leigh, ap- 
 proaching our hero, as he walked away from the weighing- 
 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 Baby, " and 
 please to tell his Boyal Highness Nameless is not for sale. I 
 intend to make a hunter of him." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Fairfax, who was 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 ! " 
 
334 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 "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 witnessed the 
 success of his horse 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 
 prevailed 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 Christchurch 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 ? Kacing, and 
 nothing else, merely occasionally interrupted by a casual 
 remark on some particular toast. And what the 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 pur- 
 suit that a gentleman can possibly enter into. The only excep- 
 tion to this opinion was Fairfax (a hundred thousand pounds 
 the worse now, by-the-by, in expectation, by his father's 
 proceedings on the turf, as already mentioned in these pages), 
 who declared that he thought every man who possessed money, 
 and a good head for calculation, must make money by racing. 
 " Then the breeding of race-horses," added he, " what an in- 
 teresting 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 when in training is another 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 835 
 
 point, unconnected with the breeding 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. 
 
 " No 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 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 
 
336 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 Eaby 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 1,100, 
 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 Chedworth and Oxford, 
 Messrs. Vernon, Button, 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 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 aris- 
 tocracy 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. Eaby to me," said his Eoyal 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 837 
 
 expressed himself, in his usual elegantly familiar style, upon 
 this occasion : * 
 
 " Well, Mr. Eaby, 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. Eaby, 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 Eaby 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 Eaby; "I shall 
 carefully obey your Eoyal Highness' s commands." 
 
 " So you are going to make a hunter of Nameless," con- 
 tinued 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. 
 
 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 difficult 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 sweep- 
 ing the ground. It is needless 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, how- 
 ever, 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, 
 
 * 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. 
 
 Z 
 
338 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 and on the next day but one his Lordship appeared on the 
 course, on his hack, with a countenance pale and wan, indica- 
 tive of the loss he had sustained. But mark the pluck of the 
 man ! Ploughater was to walk over for a stake, and his Lord- 
 ship 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 profes- 
 sional 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 gentle- 
 man's racing-saddle, has paid the debt of nature. The 
 gentlemen jockeys of that day underwent all the privations 
 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 Cyropaedia, 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-hunting, or by inventing such sports as would 
 cause them to sweat. 
 
 On our hero's arrival in London, he found the following 
 letter from his father : 
 
 DEAR FRANK, 
 
 " 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 Eiply, and I am willing to find the 
 needful. Let me request, then, that you will immediately 
 proceed thither, and my friend Sir Kichard 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 339 
 
 Eichard. 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. Eeflect upon this, and let me have your imme- 
 diate decision respecting Eiply. 
 
 " In haste, your affectionate father, 
 
 " ANDREW EABY. 
 
 " Amstead Abbey, June 25th, 1809." 
 
 The following reply to the foregoing epistle was dispatched 
 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 so near to your heart. 
 I will proceed to Eiply to-morrow, or next day, and of course 
 you will write to Sir Eichard, 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 money in the contest. To use your own words, 
 then, touching racing, ' reflect on this.' 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 Eiply. 
 
 " 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 
 
340 
 
 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 con- 
 genial 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 honour- 
 able 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 Eoyal Highness did me the honour to have me introduced 
 to him ; passed some compliments on my horse and horse- 
 manship, 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 EABY 
 
 " Bond-street, June 27, 1809. " (" M. P. in abeyance) . 
 
 The next day but two having brought the answer from 
 Mr. Eaby, 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 
 Eaby ordered four post-horses to his travelling carriage the 
 next morning, and arrived at Eiply the same night. On the 
 morrow he called on Sir Eichard Hartley, whose fine seat was 
 in the neighbourhood, and the following was the result of the 
 interview : 
 
 " Glad to see you at Wortham," said Sir Eichard; "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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 341 
 
 Eaby ; " 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 Eichard, " for the business of the country is, and ever will 
 be, conducted by a few ; but as the effects of a good 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 Beaumont 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 Eaby ; 
 " 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 committee 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. Eaby ; but the sugar-baker demanding a poll, instantly 
 addressed the electors, and with no small effect. He not only 
 promised them everything that a member of Parliament could 
 obtain for them, but, of course, a great deal more ; and what 
 was left undone by his purse, he endeavoured to effect by his 
 tongue. And 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 the other hand, the appearance and deport- 
 ment 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 
 
342 THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 
 
 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 represen- 
 tative of yourselves and your interests, I will endeavour to do 
 my duty ; but I can only consent to be placed there with the 
 liberty to speak my own sentiments, and vote as my con- 
 science 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 depart- 
 ments, 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 pro- 
 tection 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 hero, " 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 jour- 
 neyman shoemaker. " Go on !" 
 
 " 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 resources of 
 philosophy were explored ; the most enlightened sages con- 
 sulted ; 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 343 
 
 single life. For example, the splendour of Thebes commenced 
 with the public character of the celebrated Epaminondas, and 
 declined from the moment of his death. In fact, the maxims 
 by which their governments were supported are impracticable 
 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. Between 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 
 proceedings 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." 
 
 "But the taxes!" says a care-worn 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, because 
 you could have no Government ; and with reflecting persons, the 
 opportunities afforded 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, com- 
 plaints 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 
 
344 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 I consider to be the duty of every public man in these times, 
 whether in Parliament 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 disappoint 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 ap- 
 parent that our hero was by no means anxious for the honour 
 that now awaited him, since he was very sparing of his pro- 
 fessions, 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 Eichard 
 Hartley, who, in addition to owning nearly half of the borough, 
 spent ^64,000 a year in it ; and at the end of the third day's 
 poll, our hero was left to walk over the course, and, conse- 
 quently, at no heavy expense. 
 
 The visit to Sir Kichard a very good kind of man in 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 Eaby 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 ; 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOKTSMAN. 345 
 
 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 ? " 
 
 " Tipped them ' a little jaw,' as we used to say at Eton. 
 I meant to have said less than I did say, hut 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 touch- 
 ing my principles, as they are called, hut 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 ? " said 
 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 
 opponent acquit himself ? did he touch on the shop in his 
 speech ? " 
 
 " 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 dependence 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 creation, 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 ? " 
 "Oh," replied Frank, "I might as well endeavour to 
 
346 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 conceptions 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 
 
 1 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 or 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 alluding 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, is it consistent with the interest, 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 7 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 deliberating 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 sim- 
 plicity. Here is no room for displaying beauties, for tickling 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 347 
 
 the ear, or soothing the imagination. This may be called an 
 eloquence for service for which one great man is so distin- 
 guished 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 make my stable 
 complete." 
 
 "Is it not already complete ?" observed Sir John ; "are 
 not eight good hunters enough for you ? " 
 
 "Certainly not for Melton," resumed Eaby ; "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. 
 
 "No fear," answered Frank; "I shall live quietly in the 
 country in the summer, to provide for the winter campaign ; 
 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 be 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 matters to wiser heads 
 than mine. What would my opinion be worth on the affairs 
 of the Elector of Bavaria, or the convention with Eussia ?" 
 
 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 
 
348 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 had taken the oaths and his seat. The summer, however, 
 was not wasted hy him in the doubly-heated atmosphere of 
 London ; hut, hy 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 he 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 con- 
 sidered 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 par- 
 ticularly 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 considered 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. First, 
 the prodigious number of rules and regulations to be observed 
 at least considered necessary to be observed- in the 
 running of each course, naturally causes disputes, by the 
 difficulty of observing them to the satisfaction of the loser 
 especially. All emulative pursuits, he said, produce excite- 
 ment ; but he contended that he witnessed more anxiety in 
 the owners of greyhounds, when the contest 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 situa- 
 tion 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 Tatterball'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 remarkable. He became the sire of more good grey- 
 hounds than any other dog of those days ; indeed, it was 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 349 
 
 asserted of him, that he could produce good runners from very 
 inferior 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 propor- 
 tion, 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 an amiable 
 disposition, a feeling heart, and strictly honourable 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 prqqf of each of these positions 
 are now about to appear. 
 
350 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 " What are your plans, Frank, for the winter campaign ?" 
 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, stock- 
 ing 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-money 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 ! " 
 
 "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." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 351 
 
 "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 Kaby 
 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 sportsman 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 horse- 
 man 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 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 de- 
 scribing ; 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 without a fall. 
 But he 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 
 
352 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 con- 
 fined 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 con- 
 sequence 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 power to increase the velocity of it, 
 is difficult to account for, 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 re- 
 sistance 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 353 
 
 necessary for a single 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, Shropshire, and North 
 Wales, and his object for so doing was this : he had been in- 
 formed, by more than one good judge, that Sir Eichard 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 Eichard' 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 gentle- 
 man placed in that difficult and trying situation. Nor was he 
 disappointed in Sir Eichard, who exhibited very good judgment 
 in his casts, and drew 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. Mus- 
 ters, 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 
 
 A A 
 
354 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 sort of intuitive knowledge of the usual lines in which his foxes 
 ran, to an extent not hitherto witnessed hy 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 of 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 
 
 1 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 likewise 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 a-head 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 restrained ; they surrounded his horse, and 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 355 
 
 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 tvith 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 wood- 
 lands of the country his hounds hunted. Strange to say, they 
 are dissected by avenues to the extent of seventy miles, in 
 various directions ; and being the property of a noble Duke, 
 himself a master of fox-hounds, 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 Hertfordshire 
 hounds, then the Hampshire, and afterwards the Vine, with 
 each of which he saw some really good sportsmen, from several 
 of whom he gathered golden opinions, which served his pur- 
 poses through life. The scene of action with each of these 
 
356 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 overcoming 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 performer, 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 propriety attending 
 that establishment, as well as correctness of conduct in every- 
 thing 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 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 Eichard 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 357 
 
 gate that he and Sir Charles Knightly 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 Eobin (winged, I should imagine, like his namesake), 
 and he had refused 1,000 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 a 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 that 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 esta- 
 blishment, 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 a master of foxhounds. By-the-by, 
 one piece of information 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. 
 
358 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 dis- 
 patched by Frank Kaby 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 relating to you a 
 run I saw yesterday, in the Atherstone country. The beautiful 
 pack of bitches met at Sibson. The morning was immode- 
 rately stormy, and, as far as human foresight extended, 
 perfectly inimical to scent and sport ; but the result proved 
 how fallible is human judgment ! We drew the wolds, and 
 Welsborough Gorse blank. We then proceeded to Button 
 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 359 
 
 appearing bent upon conquest the pace up to this moment 
 having been a flying 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-by, 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 establishment of 
 hounds and horses, a most extensive country, and he performs 
 the office of huntsman 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, likewise for I had the honour of passing two 
 days with him at his castle one of the most lively and 
 agreeable companions 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 1 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 always keeps a diary of each day's sport, written 
 with much spirit, and showing that his 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 Eev. 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 Baby, a 
 friend of my eldest son, who made his acquaintance 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 distin- 
 guished sportsman.' 
 
 " His Lordship did not show me what he had written ; 
 
360 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 
 induced to leap through it, m 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 altogether, however, a splendid and truly sports- 
 manlike 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 Har grave, Epsom and 
 Ascot races, Bibury Club meeting, together with his " parlia- 
 mentary duties " 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 361 
 
 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 <1,300 
 in his favour. To this he was indebted partly to his own 
 sense of propriety, partly to the excellent 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 Herefordshire, also, from its 
 beautiful locality, had been sold for nearly 2,000 beyond the 
 calculation of his agents, which tended further to place him 
 " on velvet," that is to say, with everything in his reach that 
 a man of moderate views could desire. "Now," said he to 
 himself, " I am qualified to hunt from Melton." 
 
CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 Frank Raby becomes a regular Meltonian ; loses his father, and finally settles down 
 as a master of fox-hounds, 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 department 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 dis- 
 cussed 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 doubt- 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 363 
 
 ing that although, perhaps, the knowledge of the savoir vivre 
 in our young sportsman was not quite so complete as in some 
 of the bon vivants of the day, who had more experience 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 replace 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 delight- 
 ful 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 
 circumstance 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 ex- 
 pression 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, 
 
364 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 which, in those days, was too often celebrated with Baccha- 
 nalian 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 dis- 
 tance 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. 
 
 " Noiv, 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, emphatically, these words : 
 
 " My good fellow, let us think no more of what has hap- 
 pened; you have done and said all that I could desire." 
 
 The conduct of Frank Kaby was highly approved of on this 
 occasion, having shown himself to be a man of courage, tem- 
 pered with humanity, which, after all, is the only true 
 courage,* 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 bis antagonist was a first-rate shot), without the 
 effort to defend himself, and of course ignorant of the inten- 
 tions 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 
 
 * The Greeks used the word Aper?/ to express both what we call valour and 
 virtue. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 865 
 
 risk of being punished, without the chance of punishing the 
 aggressor." 
 
 "No punishment which he could have inflicted upon me," 
 replied Frank Baby, " would have been equal to 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 Fitz- 
 maurice, 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 ?" 
 
 "Pardon me," replied Hargrave ; "Antony challenged 
 Augustus ! " 
 
 "He may have done so," said Baby, "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 ? 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-esta- 
 blished courage and conduct, in our day, were to return a 
 
366 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 similar one to another who wished to cut his throat for a mere 
 lapsus lingua 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 incon- 
 sistency of it. A man inflicts upon 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 ; whereas, in strict justice, the latter is the sole insti- 
 gator, 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 protect 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 peace-_ 
 ably with all men.' " 
 
 ~ Tt Yes," observed Eaby, " 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 367 
 
 Two rather interesting incidents have been overlooked during 
 the sojourn of Frank Kaby 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 celebrated sportsmen of 
 those times played extraordinary parts. The fox broke from 
 the Coplow, the hounds getting away close at his brush, and 
 so straight did he put his 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 ? 
 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 distin- 
 guished 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 Leicestershire 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 sportsman 
 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 eclaircissement. Previously, however, to the 
 climax, it should be observed that, in those days, no gentle- 
 man, 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. 
 
368 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 "Who is the farmer 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 thousand 
 would not purchase him," exclaimed Frank Kahy, who was 
 within hearing of the trio. " He belongs to Jemmy Tomlin- 
 son, a friend of mine, in Cheshire, and he calls him The 
 
 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 dependents, 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 : 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 869 
 
 " 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 sufferings of so kind and excellent a mother. 
 I know not in what manner I can at this moment best endea- 
 vour 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 in- 
 formed 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 afflic- 
 tion, 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, KABY. 
 
 " 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 ^ 
 
 B B 
 
370 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 t 
 
 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 arid 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 one wish not within his means to gratify ; but, had anybody 
 imagined that the gratification of that wish, and the life of his 
 excellent father, 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 unhesi- 
 tatingly 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 Kaby 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 ; 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 871 
 
 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 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 keep- 
 ing and hunting a pack of foxhounds with credit to myself, and 
 satisfaction to my field. 
 
 " Believe me, dear Sir, faithfully yours, 
 
 "FRANCIS KABY." 
 
 The answer to this letter, received by return of post, ran 
 thus : 
 
 KABY, 
 
 " 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 
 
372 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 you call fox-hunting has gained much by the change. 
 Gentlemen have so many other pursuits in view, that I give 
 the preference 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 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, 
 
 " JOHN WARDE. 
 
 " To Francis Kaby, Esq., &c., &c." 
 
 In about a fortnight after the receipt of this friendly letter, 
 our hero was favoured with the following observations 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 purchasing 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 ? ' 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 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 373 
 
 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 
 fox-hounds 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, forasmuch 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 in 
 the dark, involved in uncertainties and plerplexities to no small 
 amount. As is the case with breeding horses, faults of gene- 
 rations 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 properties 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 dwelling on it, or tiring ; is true to the line without 
 being too 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 
 (his curious though not unreasonable notion ' It may appear 
 paradoxical,' he says, ' but it is nevertheless true, that the 
 tquery, 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 
 
374 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 oftener seen at head than any of the rest. Of course a hound 
 that is not remarkable is never last, 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 Beckford 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 
 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 
 favour, but leaving the rest of the pack to do the principal 
 work of the day. Keep none of these sorts, however 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, however, 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 LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 375 
 
 the same time ; at least, he is soon blown if he attempts it. 
 Merely wild young hounds often turn out well, with proper 
 discipline 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 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, how- 
 
376 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN, 
 
 ever, 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 sports- 
 men 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 im- 
 perfection is to be avoided ; and although the good qualities of 
 foxhounds are very soon reckoned, their faults, in shape and 
 performance, present a larger catalogue. Independently of 
 good shape, which combines strength with beauty, the highest 
 virtue in a foxhound is not merely the exquisiteness 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 signalise 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 combined 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 tougue im- 
 properly ; 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 perfec- 
 tion. In no animal not even in the horse is per'ect 
 symmetry so desirable I may say necessary as in the fox- 
 hound, inasmuch as without it there is no dependence on his 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 377 
 
 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 resemblance 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 
 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 re- 
 sembling 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 
 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 fat, 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 foxhound, 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 
 
378 THE LIFE OF A SPOETSMAN. 
 
 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 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, con- 
 sequently, unlikely to endure beyond his third season. 
 
 "As Beckford recommends a small head, it may be pre- 
 sumed 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 character- 
 istics. For my part, I like some length of head in the fox- 
 hound, 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 having them being 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 379 
 
 termed throaty. There are, however, numerous exceptions to 
 this rule, as some of the best hounds England ever saw have 
 heen 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 orna- 
 ment to him ; but there is one part of it which his owner 
 likes to see nearly deprived of its covering, and that is its tip, 
 which,- when in that state, is an infallible 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 
 utility, 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 constitu- 
 tion 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 is 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, 
 
380 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 it is 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. It is, in fact, 
 the judicious cross, as Beckford says, that makes the pack com- 
 plete ; 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 improvement 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 re- 
 course 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 consanguinity. 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 hunts- 
 man one of the best breeders of hounds of his day going 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 381 
 
 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 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 sort, 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 
 
882 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 
 somewhat 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, 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 ; convul- 
 sive 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, cleanli- 
 ness, 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 383 
 
 " 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 designed to meet the 
 peculiar tastes and purposes of the countless multitudes that 
 dwell on the face of the earth. 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, has 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 given 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 t]ae rest to 
 chance.' But on a good day for hearing it (there is a wide 
 
884 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 ? 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 at all descended from their emi- 
 nence, 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 constitution 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 pathologist 
 enough to foresee and provide against the alterations which 
 such circumstances produce. He had need also to be a phy- 
 siologist 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 I 
 Here he should be a philosopher, and the qualities given to 
 him, by Beckford, at once makes him such.* 
 
 * " ' A good huntsman,' says Beckford, ' should be young, strong, and active, 
 bold and enterprising ; fond of the diversion, and indefatigable 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. 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 385 
 
 " 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, sup- 
 posing 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 done, either by horn or halloo ; if hounds are 
 
 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 with 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 Caesars 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 gentlemen -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 gentle- 
 man 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 subscription 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 filled 
 it ; but, labor ipse voluptas, a pains-taking zeal is often displayed by the master, 
 which has been wanting in the servant ; and it was the remark of a certain noble- 
 man 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 j 
 if slow, he will make a quick pack slow." 
 
 C C 
 
386 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 a-head, 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 ? Good 
 hounds will seldom or never leave a scent a-head 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. Eecollect 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, disre- 
 garding 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 judi- 
 cious 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 more likely points. If your pack will divide 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 387 
 
 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 advantage. 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 a-head 
 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 reasonable to sup- 
 pose 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 together as much as you can in 
 the short time that can be allowed for it, before you cap them 
 
388 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 cir- 
 cumstances. 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 improved 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 upon it, when otherwise obtained. Kill a good fox 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 389 
 
 whenever 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. Eemember the apos- 
 tolic 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 pro- 
 fession, 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 dispatch, 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 horseman, 
 as nothing requires a much nicer and firmer hand than the 
 
390 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 act of following and overtaking a hound over open ground, to 
 flog him. A good whipper-in, however, will always hit a 
 hound first, and rate him afterwards, 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 hounds 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 perfection 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 judg- 
 ment 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 which your kennel is 
 built is damp, your hounds will be liable to rheumatism, and 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 391 
 
 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 spon- 
 taneously that is to say, unless 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 atten- 
 tion 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, clean- 
 liness 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 performed. 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 astrin- 
 gents 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 supposed to lie in the dog's own tongue ; but 
 experience has proved it to be, in many cases, injurious. 
 Spaying bitches is recommended by many ; and it is said that 
 twenty couples of spayed bitches would do the work of twenty- 
 
392 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 in- 
 curably 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 occa- 
 sionally 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 gentleman-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. Ee- 
 member 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 couples, which will allow for the 
 ravages of the distemper, should it attack them, and also admit 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 393 
 
 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. Stag- 
 hounds rarely taste blood, and what hounds run faster, or 
 work harder ? 
 
 " It has been said that a run with foxhounds should re- 
 semble 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. Kuns 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 smart burst of 
 half an hour, than at the end of a run which we may call a 
 journey. 
 
394 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 requi- 
 sites 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 en- 
 couraged 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 j3o^v aya0o c , 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. Inde- 
 pendently of the common recheat, why not have the ' view- 
 horn,' as well as the 'view-halloo?' Too much horn, how- 
 ever, 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 blameable in a huntsman, inasmuch as his 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 395 
 
 hounds, by constantly hearing it, will pay but little 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 expressive 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 brim- 
 stone 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. 
 
 " Although I am of opinion that foxes do not destroy game 
 nearly to the extent which is laid to their charge, still, 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 
 
396 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 the course of the season, have a very good effect in preventing 
 blank 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 germinating 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, com- 
 posed, as it will be, of some of the first sportsmen in the 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 397 
 
 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 
 everyone 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 sportsman : 
 
 " ' 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 farm- 
 house, 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 east them very quietly, and hold them back, 
 for when hounds have run hard for a long way, they lose their 
 noses for want of wind, and run beyond the scent, especially 
 
898 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 if there is water in their view. In a fair country, and with 
 hounds in good condition, it is my opinion that, if the fore- 
 going observations are carried into effect, few foxes would 
 escape. Patience is a great performer 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 submission of in- 
 feriors 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, the 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 re- 
 commend you to breed your hunters, and, after the method 
 adopted by a friend of mine in Devonshire, have them per- 
 fected 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 de- 
 scription 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* 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 fore- 
 legs 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 
 
 * See " Diary of a Huntsman." 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 399 
 
 standing leap over it 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. Bather 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, I 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 impending 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 remarkable instance was related to me by a brother 
 
400 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 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 may 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 circum- 
 stances 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 difficulties. The safer plan, then, 
 may be to mix the sexes in the field. This will about balance 
 
THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 401 
 
 the account. I would, however, advise you to have more 
 bitches than dogs in your kennel, with a view to future pro- 
 ceedings." 
 
 We must now bring this tale to an end. Our hero esta- 
 blished 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 considered 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 distin- 
 guished himself as a huntsman before the closing of his second 
 season, and the fame and reputation of " BABY'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 pro- 
 pensities 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 Eaby. 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 enjoyment 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 imbibed 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." 
 
 D D 
 
402 THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN. 
 
 At all events he remains a bachelor, and the question will 
 be ''Who is to inherit the family 
 
 This is answered in a few words. A your. 
 brother of his father, not hitherto mentioned^ in these pa_ 
 has three sons, and to the eldest of them will the entail 
 continued. But why has he r. mentioned? For 
 
 simple reason, that his residence has been in India since his 
 
 ntieth year, and his reason for having made it such. 
 the honourable feeling 'that an imprudent marriage, as regar 
 station in life, had, as he imagined, rendered him somewhat 
 obnoxious to the rest of his family. Imprudent it might li 
 been, inasmuch as it dropped him a degree in the uic 
 balanced general scale of refined society, in other words, t 
 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 hou^ 
 occasionally the resort of all the best families in the neigh- 
 bourhood ; and, by his general conduct and deportment 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. 
 
 
 Printed by J. OGDES and Co., 172, St. John Street, B.C. 
 
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 ^ 
 
 
 1979 
 
 
 191 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 General Library 
 
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