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 LIFE AND RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 GEORGE CARTER 
 
 THE GREAT HUNTSMAN 
 
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 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
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HOUND AND HORN. 
 

 
 
 
 GEORGE CARTER, 
 
 /ETAT 79. 
 
 FROM A PHOTOGRAPH BY BULL OF PETERBOROUGH, 
 
HOUND AND HOEN; 
 
 Oil, 
 
 THE LIFE AND RECOLLECTIONS 
 
 Carter, 
 
 THE GREAT HUNTSMAN. 
 
 BY I. H. G. 
 
 LONDON 
 SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO., 
 
 STATIONERS' HALL COURT. 
 
 1885 
 
RICHARD CLAY & SONS 
 BBKAD STREET HILL, LONDON 
 And at Bungay Suffolk. 
 
G3H4 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE preface is of no value beyond giving the 
 author an opportunity of button-holing the reader 
 before starting, just to warn him that this is not 
 a " sporting book " in the common sense of the 
 word, and that he is not and does not aspire to 
 be a " sporting (?) writer," one of those who claim 
 to be experts in describing a run, in the story 
 whereof there is little or no clue about the weather, 
 the wind, the scent, the line of country, and the 
 finding and hunting and death of the fox the only 
 details which interest the real sportsman though 
 there is a great deal about "that prince of sports- 
 men," the master, the writer's joy at seeing Lord 
 and Lady So-and-so in the saddle, and Miss Dinah 
 on her pony, Daisy charming as ever, &c., &c. This 
 class of writer aggravates real sportsmen, who look 
 
 M370213 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 with silent contempt on the " padding " of which 
 so-called "account of runs" mainly consists, the 
 writers whereof take in vain the names of a whole 
 county - side themselves not knowing a lady or 
 gentleman in the shire who talk familiarly about 
 huntsmen and whips as " Charley This," and " Bill 
 That," and degrade the fox by designating him as 
 "Reynard," "Charley," "Sly boots," &c., &c. 
 
 This kind of "chatter" though vulgar, is harm- 
 less, and is only alluded to en passant. 
 
 Speaking in the first person, I have not aspired 
 to write any book, nor have I scribbled sensa- 
 tional nonsense for the public. I have only jotted 
 down the things I have heard from one of the 
 finest huntsmen that ever carried a horn, whose 
 only thought was with his hounds, whose horn was 
 only touched when required, and who, while he rode 
 well to the last, and boldly I believe in his former 
 years (but that was before my acquaintance with him) 
 looked upon his horse simply as a means of carrying 
 him up to the hounds, expecting, of course, to be 
 mounted on an animal capable of so doing while it 
 wanted little guidance from him. He never once 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 thought whether there was a fence to be " negotiated " 
 (that I believe is " Mr. Gent's " expression), or whether 
 he had simply to ride over the open. In all my hours 
 with Carter during a period of nineteen years, and we 
 were much together, he rarely mentioned his horse at 
 all, unless I happened to call his attention to some 
 particular animal which he might have ridden, and 
 then his reply was generally " Oh, yes, 'twere a very 
 good one, and carried me well for two, three, or more 
 seasons," as the case might be, but not one word about 
 " I rode him, or her, over a five-barred gate, or a 
 double flight of posts and rails, or a brook a quarter 
 of a mile wide." 
 
 Having myself been born and bred in the centre 
 of the Tedworth Hunt, and being familiar with 
 every inch of the country, which was " the happy 
 hunting ground " of George Carter for very many 
 years of his life, it struck me that many of the 
 real sportsmen of England might like to read some 
 of the old man's opinions and recollections of sport, 
 together with his experiences of old fashions and 
 new. This book simply professes to be jottings of 
 the old huntsman's fireside talk to myself, from time 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 to time, during very many years, and of little events 
 of which I can speak from personal experience. 
 
 In alluding to the dead I have kept before me 
 the old golden rule, " De mortuis," &c. ; in alluding 
 to the living, if I have said a word which may 
 occasion to any one a moment's pain, I trust I may 
 have the benefit of its being attributed to inad- 
 vertence, and that the person or persons who may 
 be aggrieved will consider that my apology has 
 been tendered before demanded. So now let us 
 leave the Preface, and get on with 
 
 THE LIFE AND RECOLLECTIONS OF 
 
 GEORGE CARTER, 
 THE GREAT HUNTSMAN. 
 
HOUND AND HORN; 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 LIFE AND RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 
 
 GEORGE CARTER was born of respectable parents 
 in the village of Bromfield, near Ludlow, Salop, on 
 November 29th, 1792, and at an early age showed a 
 true love for the noble science with which his whole 
 after-life was so closely associated. 
 
 According to his own account he used, while quite 
 a boy, to " mouch " from school, to run with a pack of 
 harriers in the neighbourhood whenever the oppor- 
 tunity offered. These repeated acts of truantry, 
 coming to the ears of the home-rulers, and not meet- 
 ing with their approval, caused such a disruption in 
 the family circles, that young George left his father's 
 house, and took service with Mr. Forrester of Elmley, 
 to look after horses, make himself generally useful 
 about the stables, with the chance of an occasional 
 mount as whip to the harriers ; and after some time 
 
 B 
 
2 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 he looked after the pack altogether. This was his first 
 entry. 
 
 We find him next at Mickletown, about the age of 
 twenty, where he had the management of a pack of 
 harriers, kept by the Kev. Mr. Graves, and after about 
 two years' service with this gentleman he laid by the 
 horn for a time, and took to farming. But his heart 
 was still in hunting, and, finding his new occupation 
 not so profitable as he supposed, he again found service 
 in the saddle, donning the red coat and cap in 
 preference to the green, and became whip to the 
 Warwickshire, with Mr. Shirley as " master/' and Jack 
 Wood as " huntsman." This was about the year 1823. 
 What may have been his reason for leaving this service 
 is of little consequence, but about 1825 he again 
 returned to harriers kept by Mr. West ; and in 1827 
 he entered the service of his Grace the Duke of 
 Grafton, as whip, under Ned Rose. Here he con- 
 tinued till 1831, when he got his promotion by going 
 to the Honourable Grantley Berkeley, who at that 
 time hunted the Oakley. This was his first appear- 
 ance as huntsman. In 1833 he once more returned 
 to the Duke of Grafton, and here he carried the horn 
 in his Grace's country. 
 
 A continued service of twelve years with such a 
 pack and in such a country soon established his 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 3 
 
 reputation, and on his Grace's hounds being sold in 
 1842 the Squire of Tedworth secured the lot, with 
 the understanding that George Carter was to come 
 with them, or, as it is said he expressed it, "He 
 bought the hounds and George Carter." As Mr. 
 Assheton Smith hunted his own hounds four days a 
 week, the remaining two were assigned to George 
 Carter with a third pack, and every Wednesday 
 throughout the season found him in Wherwell Wood, 
 which he rented of the Vine, and on Saturday he 
 was at the extreme southern side, or rather a part 
 which Mr. Smith secured from the New Forest Hunt. 
 This country extended from Speerywell to Clarendon 
 Park, or beyond it. 
 
 It was said of Mr. Assheton Smith, that his great 
 ambition was to have it recorded of him that he had 
 hunted hounds at eighty years of age, but this he never 
 accomplished. About two years before his death, 
 finding himself no longer able to do so much in the 
 saddle, he presented one pack to the Craven, cut his 
 own hunting days with the Tedworth down to four in 
 the week, and left the entire management to George 
 Carter. On the death of Mr. Assheton Smith, the 
 hounds were left in the country, and a committee of 
 management was formed, with the Marquis of 
 Ailesbury as master, and in 1865, when the old 
 
 B2 
 
4 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 huntsman had attained to the age of seventy-three 
 years, and it being considered by the committee that 
 the post was becoming too arduous for him, George 
 Carter was persuaded to retire, though rather against 
 his will, when he took up his residence in the village 
 of Milton, in Pewsey Vale. But still the same love 
 of the old sport burned bright within him, and the 
 hearty greetings which always awaited him at the 
 coverside, whenever he came out with the old pack, 
 or with any other pack in the neighbourhood, showed 
 how he still carried with him the respect and esteem 
 of all, from the highest to the lowest. 
 
 As a huntsman, whether in the kennel or in the 
 field, George Carter has never been surpassed. Of a 
 fine commanding figure, which he carried upright as 
 a dart almost to the last, whether he were on foot or 
 In the saddle; with a sedate and rather stern ex- 
 pression of countenance, till his face lighted up with 
 a smile ; with a wonderful rich cheery voice, and with 
 a manner noted for its courtesy, he showed that he was 
 a man who never forgot himself by taking a liberty 
 and one with whom no one but a fool or a madman 
 would venture on an impertinent familiarity. George 
 Carter stood as it were alone, or at least one of that 
 very rare class called "nature's gentlemen." He was 
 twice married and had a numerous family; three 
 
KECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CARTER. 5 
 
 of his sons have followed the same line of life as 
 himself; George, well known with the Fitzwilliam, 
 John, who has tried his fortunes with various packs 
 abroad, and Charles, the youngest, who, it is to be 
 hoped, will tread in his father's footsteps. 
 
 As the whole of George Carter's life may be gathered 
 in reading what follows in his Recollections, little more 
 need be said here. Those recollections speak of his 
 doings in the various countries in which he hunted, 
 and as he was a man of the strictest integrity, of the 
 most simple modesty, and of a most wonderful memory, 
 there was with him no dressing up tales of his per- 
 formances, no exaggeration, but a true and unvarnished 
 account. As one, who while he won his bread and 
 earned his livelihood by hunting, dearly loved the sport 
 for hunting's sake and nothing else, we have brought 
 the old man down to the end of his professional career, 
 and it was after his relinquishing the horn and retiring 
 into private life, that these Recollections of his former 
 days have been gathered from his own mouth, and now 
 sent forth to the public by one who, of somewhat 
 kindred spirit, treasured every one of his kind old 
 mentor's words, and would scorn to be aught but a 
 faithful scribe to so faithful a narrator. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 IF any one were to ask me, "How long have you 
 known George Carter?" the natural answer to the 
 inquiry would be, "Since the beginning of 1846," 
 which was the date of my first coming back to reside 
 in the home of my first childhood and within the limits 
 of the Tedworth Hunt. It was about four years pre- 
 vious to this that George came to Mr. Assheton Smith's, 
 but at that time he acted as kennel-huntsman, and 
 had his own two regular days, with the third pack ; 
 and as one of those days in every week (Wednesday) 
 was invariably Wherwell Wood, and *the other 
 (Saturday) on the extreme south part of the country 
 that was rented, or at least hunted, by the Tedworth 
 pack, though belonging to the New Forest country, 
 I had but little opportunity of making any very 
 intimate acquaintance with the great huntsman, whose 
 memoirs or recollections I am now endeavouring to 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 7 
 
 commit to paper, and it was only on some chance 
 occasion when Mr. Assheton Smith was prevented from 
 hunting, that Carter carried the horn with either of the 
 Squire's special packs on the other days of the week. 
 Still one occasionally went to the kennels, or came 
 across the huntsman in some way or other, or it 
 might be that Mr. Smith would come ottt "a gentle- 
 man," as I believe he expressed it, and hand over 
 the hunting of his own pack, for the day, to 
 George Carter. 
 
 But after a while old age began to tell on the Squire 
 of Tedworth, and though he fought against the attacks 
 of time most manfully, and was very anxious, as was 
 reported, to have it handed down to posterity that he 
 had hunted his own hounds at fourscore, for once the 
 sturdy will of Mr. Assheton Smith had to give in ; and 
 some two years previous to his death, having disposed 
 of the third pack, or rather presented them to the 
 Craven Hunt, he cut down his own days of hunting to 
 four, and gave up the horn to George Carter. 
 
 From that time till 1865, George Carter acted 
 regularly as huntsman, and in that capacity one had 
 a better opportunity of becoming acquainted with him 
 in every part of the Tedworth country ; but still it was 
 not till a much later period, when he retired from active 
 life, that I formed what may be truly called a strong and 
 
8 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 lasting friendship with the dear old man, which never 
 was broken for an hour, and which only grew and 
 increased with time. 
 
 Grand and upright as his figure was in the saddle, 
 cheery and musical as was his voice, dignified as was 
 his manner, he never forgot that he was a servant, and 
 combined dignity with a most respectful deportment. 
 But all this was as nothing to what I found him to be 
 in his private life, and it was after his retirement that 
 I first really began to know George Carter, and to 
 appreciate the society of one, who, while he possessed 
 every kind of knowledge of the noble science, and was 
 .never surpassed either as kennel or field huntsman, was 
 utterly without conceit, and remarkable for his quiet, 
 unassuming manner. It was a matter of great con- 
 gratulation to myself that George Carter should have 
 fixed upon Milton as his place of residence, and it was 
 not long after his arrival, and his getting himself settled 
 down in his new quarters, that I paid him the first formal 
 visit ; and, as was very natural, our conversation soon 
 turned upon hounds and hunting. But this was not 
 as I found, " all serene" at starting. The old man for 
 old he was (seventy- three) could not quite understand 
 his being " turned out," as he expressed it. And there 
 was naturally some little jealousy at seeing " Jack," 
 who has been his pupil from a boy, usurping the place 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 9 
 
 at Tedworth which he still felt competent to fill. 
 Nor did this feeling altogether die away for some 
 time ; and for more than one season after his appoint- 
 ment as huntsman I observed that Jack Fricker did 
 not often return home from the Oare Hill side of the 
 country through Milton ; and I always fancied there 
 was not the best possible feeling towards him from my 
 old friend. Now, I won't take credit for a moment 
 for anything which might have occurred in after years, 
 but I am thankful to say this feeling gradually dis- 
 appeared, and I believe the present huntsman of the 
 Tedworth never after this felt more pleasure than 
 when he could come home by Milton, and stop, if 
 only for a few moments, just to let "Master" as 
 I believe he always addressed him know what he 
 had done. 
 
 As the hunting season came round, after his coming 
 to reside at Milton, I hoped that George Carter would 
 have occasionally come out with the old pack, as he 
 had a " tidy cottage," as he expressed it, with stabling, 
 &c., about six acres of meadow land, and he had 
 also a very nice easy galloway kind of horse, which 
 had been sent to him by his son Andrew ; but at first 
 it was no go with him, and if I remember right, it was 
 not till the second year of his being at Milton that 
 I could prevail on him to show his face at the covert 
 
10 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 side. The ice once broken, it was all right ; and after 
 that, as he generally had a nice easy horse of his own 
 or a mount from some one of his friends, I always 
 looked for a ride to covert on a Tuesday and possibly 
 Thursday morning, with dear old George Carter ; and 
 proud I felt at seeing the greetings on all sides, as we 
 appeared together at the meet. The red coat and 
 cap were, after a time, but not at first, as will be seen, 
 once more in the right place; and it was a question 
 whether they most became the old man, or he them. 
 His seat in the saddle was as good as ever, and his 
 voice had lost nothing of its rich and musical note ; but 
 it was in the evening of a hunting or non-hunting day, 
 during the season, that I always looked forward to my 
 chat with old Carter. During the summer I saw him 
 every day and all day, as it might happen ; but as the 
 days drew in and hounds were out, I rarely missed 
 that last hour or so before going in for the evening 
 meal ; and six o'clock, or thereabouts, regularly found 
 me in old George Carter's snug parlour, just to have 
 a talk of hunting, or something connected with it; 
 and then I gathered the incidents of his former life, 
 as they came from his own lips. It is to those pleasant 
 half-hours that I can now look back with satisfaction ; 
 and the only regret is that they are days that can 
 never come again. 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 11 
 
 With the hope, then, that the recollections of the 
 old huntsman may not be altogether thrown away 
 on a rising generation, and that this may help 
 occasionally to pass away an hour that might hang 
 heavily, let us see how they may best be presented 
 to the reader. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 IT was in the year 1865 that George Carter having 
 retired from active life, and at the age of seventy- three 
 thinking perhaps the duties of huntsman to a four days' 
 a week pack rather greater than he could manage, said 
 good-bye to the kennels at Tedworth, and sought in the 
 quiet little village of Milton a home for his latter years. 
 There was a very comfortable house, quite sufficient for 
 his own wants and that of his family, with stabling, 
 sheds, yards, &c., adjoining, and about six acres of good 
 pasture land attached, which had a short time previously 
 been bought by a very well-known and respected char- 
 acter in the Tedworth Hunt, one Mr. Caleb Symonds, 
 who had for many years held the office of head game- 
 keeper, and afterwards park keeper, or verderer, as I 
 always chose to designate him, to the Marquis of Ailes- 
 bury, at Savernake Forest. The forest used, within 
 my recollection, to be hunted by the Craven, and I have 
 heard George Carter say that Mr. Smith had offered old 
 Lord Ailesbury, the father of the present and late 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CAETER. 13 
 
 marquis, one of whom was then Earl Bruce, and the 
 other Lord Ernest Bruce, five hundred a year to hunt it. 
 The late marquis, however, would not upset the old 
 arrangement, and so it was not till after Mr. Smith's 
 death that Savernake, or Marlborough Forest, as it is 
 generally called, with all that side of the country, 
 came into the Tedworth Hunt. 1 Mrs. Smith, it must 
 be remembered, gave the hounds to the country, 
 so that it might still continue to be hunted. And 
 so it was that a committee was formed for manage- 
 ment, with Lord Ailesbury as chairman, and nominal 
 master of the hounds. Carter and Caleb Symonds 
 were well known to each other, and it was very 
 natural that when the retired huntsman was looking 
 about for a home, and the verderer had a place to 
 suit him standing empty, that the two should soon 
 come to terms, and so it was that George Carter 
 came to live at Milton. His family consisted of Mrs. 
 Carter his second wife, three daughters and his 
 youngest son Charley, a smart little fellow of about 
 fourteen and a splendid rider. The rest of his family, 
 and there were very many of them, were all away, and 
 as it is said, " out in the world." Here then old George 
 
 1 I have not entered into any detail of arrangement as to how the 
 forest, &c., has been hunted by the Tedworth hounds, as this is a 
 matter with which the general public have nothing to do. 
 
14 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 Carter "kennelled himself," as he expressed it. And 
 here, too, about six o'clock in the evening during the 
 winter months, after his tea, he used to get into his 
 easy chair on one side of the fire the hearth swept 
 up, the room put tidy, and the lamp lighted and on 
 the opposite side of the fire stood another easy chair, 
 empty. Gentle reader, have you ever seen a fire ? or 
 do you know what a good fire is ? Possibly you think 
 you do. I have certainly seen many in Wiltshire, in 
 the old farm-houses, years ago, when the fire was of 
 wood, great. " flocks " burnt on the hearth on dogs, 
 and the chimney corner was a warm and comfortable 
 spot. None of your carpeted best parlours, or what- 
 ever you may call them, with a little fiddle-faddle 
 stove or grate, that throws out little heat and plenty 
 of smoke if the wind is anywhere but in one quarter, 
 and that never the right one. Well, George Carter 
 did burn his fire in a grate, it is true, but it was 
 generally of wood, and he or his family knew how the 
 fire should be made up, and if it was not properly 
 made up well, the old huntsman 'perhaps, had not 
 forgotten altogether how to " rate." 
 
 We will fancy, then, a cold evening in December, 
 or, at all events, in the winter, room cheery, fire 
 burning bright, old huntsman sitting in his easy chair, 
 Mrs. Carter, " a nice tidy 'ooman," (I always like to 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER 15 
 
 quote my old friend's own words), at needlework at 
 the table, girls doing something about the house, 
 Charley, well, not in mischief, when comes a knock 
 with a stick or whip-handle against the door ; with a 
 " Yoi-doit there ! " " Come in, sir, here's yerr kennel 
 waiting for ye." And with a cheery greeting from 
 the old man, and a smile of recognition, all round, 
 " the kennel," or the easy chair, on the opposite side 
 of the fire, becomes tenanted, and then we know what 
 will quickly follow. We will suppose it to have been 
 a hunting day, when the writer of these memoirs 
 should have been out with the hounds and the old 
 huntsman, for some reason or other, not having been 
 out. The first question, of course after the greeting 
 all round, comes from the old man, " Well, sir, I beg 
 y'r pardon " ; now, reader, please to remark this, I am 
 going to stick to George Carter's words or expressions, 
 all through. I have said he was never wanting in respect 
 to any one ; he was a man of great dignity of manner, 
 but with it he combined that happy knack of never 
 forgetting himself, especially when he was, as he said, 
 " talking to a gentleman." He never took a liberty with 
 any one, and no one ever dared to try it on with him. 
 He was truly one of " nature's gentlemen," even if he 
 was, as he said, " only a servant." This was his own 
 way of putting it. So now to work. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 "WELL, sir, I beg y'r pardon, what have ye done 
 to-day?" 
 
 " Oh ! a very fair day's sport, old friend. We found 
 a fox just beyond Pomfrey's Gorse, brought him across 
 the bottom towards the middle ride, knocked him about 
 a bit in the further quarter, till at last we brought him 
 out, as I thought, for Clench Common : but he turned 
 away across the open for the top of Oare Hill, and then 
 all along the down for Huish Hill and Copher Wood, 
 and then sunk the hill, for you know where. Who- 
 whoop, and no blood ! " 
 
 O.H. " Now, sir, I beg y'r pardon ; you see that fox 
 kept creeping about till he gets the ground foiled, and 
 then he slipt away with a side wind, sir, as may be so, 
 (and up comes the poker, and with it the O.H. seems to 
 point out the line). Well, sir, when he got to the top o' 
 Oare Hill, he know'd the earth, in the bottom under 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 17 
 
 Gopher Wood, and so that took him up-wind ; and if 
 that earth had been ' Put-too' l as it ought to have 
 been, you'd ha' ' caught him' before he could ha* got 
 back to the West Woods. Oh dear, dear, I do know 
 all about it, and so I ought, for I've a-hunted all 
 my life, and if I hadn't I shouldn't ha' been here 
 now. Ahem ! " (N.B. This is intended to represent 
 a peculiar clearing of the throat, and one of the old 
 man's peculiarities.) 
 
 Now, gentle reader, having established a kind of 
 precedent in the huntsman's parlour, and the easy chairs 
 or kennels, or what not, we will suppose ourselves there 
 on any evening in the winter, and to the best of my 
 ability I will give some of the recollections as they come 
 across me. Let it not be considered a want of good 
 taste if George Carter did not consider the late Mr. 
 Assheton Smith quite such a demi-god as some people 
 might suppose him or wish him to have been. The old 
 Squire of Tedworth had doubtless many good points of 
 character, and kept up a splendid establishment at his 
 own expense for everybody who cared for hunting to 
 enjoy; but George Carter lived with him for over 
 sixteen years, and knew pretty well the ins and outs 
 of his character, but you may draw your own inference 
 from what may follow in these pages. 
 
 1 Pronounced as "but." 
 
 C 
 
18 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 " How do you think the hounds will go on, old friend, 
 without the old Squire ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, I beg y'r pardon, I don't see why they 
 
 shouldn't do very well, if they've got money enough. 
 
 He'd plenty o' that, and he would ride; for, you see, 
 
 he were a wonderful horseman, but his ways and mine 
 
 didn't always agree. / liked to find a fox, have an -hour 
 
 and a-half with him, or more, and then kill him if I 
 
 could, and, somehow or other I generally could do that ; 
 
 but you see, sir, Mr. Smith used to say, ' What's the 
 
 good of caddling about after a fox all day ? ' and if he 
 
 hunted one for forty minutes and didn't catch him, why 
 
 then he gave him up, and went and tried for another ; 
 
 and as soon as he had tired one horse, he had another 
 
 to get on, and so it didn't signify : but / always knew 
 
 what Mr. Smith's hounds were. Why, then, I remember 
 
 one day we met at Weyhill, and Mr. Smith came out as 
 
 ' a gentleman,' and I hunted the hounds. Well, sir, we 
 
 found a fox at Ramridge, and knocked him about a bit 
 
 to Appleshaw, and on to Chute Lodge, and 'twere a 
 
 ' mighty muddlin' scent ; ' and at last the hounds could 
 
 hardly hunt him at all; and just before we come to 
 
 Chute Lodge there were a bit o' plough, and I see 
 
 a hound called 'Nabob,' feathering up a furrow, and 
 
 none o' the others could own it ; but I know'd he were 
 
 right, so I just said quietly, ' Heic, Nabob, heic ! ' ' 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER 19 
 
 " What are ye ' heicing ' for there ? " says Mr. Smith. 
 
 " I beg y'r pardon, sir," I says, " but you see Nabob 
 has got the line ; he cant speak to it on the, plough, but 
 as soon as we get on the grass they will all open. And 
 sure enough, sir, as soon as we got to the park palings, 
 and through, away they went, and we killed our fox 
 after a good hunting run. Oh ! he were a good hound, 
 were Nabob, and I remember him well. Well, sir, 
 you've heard me tell the story about killing a fox at 
 Ham Spray; I remember the day well, for I hunted 
 the hounds that day, and we met at Collingbourne 
 Wood, and found a fox down by Coldred End, or near 
 the saw-pit; and after knocking him about in the 
 wood, he went away towards Conholt, and just skirted 
 Fosbury, and right on for Combe Wood and Buttermere 
 Gorse. Well, sir, I were in the lower end of the wood, 
 and the hounds were running pretty well, when I heard 
 ' Tally-ho ! tally-ho ! ' Well, sir, I know'd 'twere Mr. 
 Smith, so up I come. You knew them yew trees, sir, 
 atop of Buttermere Wood : well, there sat Mr. Smith, on 
 his horse tally-ho-ing; so I rode up and touched my 
 cap, and said, 'I beg y'r pardon, sir, have you seen 
 the fox?'" 
 
 " Seen the fox ! No, George. I only hallooed to know 
 where you had got to." 
 
 " Oh dear, dear ; I were quite ashamed of him. Well, 
 
 c2 
 
20 HOUND AND HOKN ; 
 
 sir, I never took the hounds off, so I got back pretty 
 quick, and we soon got away and over the hill, and 
 down through the edge of Bull's Copse you do know 
 Bull's Copse, sir, on the hanging, and there is a big 
 earth in it ; and I know'd the earth would be open, for 
 you see 'tis in the Craven country : and on we took him 
 to Ham Spray. Well, sir, here he were beat, and I 
 know'd if they were let alone they must kill him ; so 
 I says, 'Cowley, Cowley, 1 you come out here.' So 
 Cowley and me just kept about a hundred yards or 
 so outside the wood, between that and Bull's Copse, for 
 I know'd he'd try to get back there and go to ground ; 
 when presently I just see his nose poke outside, and 
 T put up my whip, as may be so (here suppose the 
 poker work again) and says, ' No, no, no ; you mustn't 
 come here.' And we kept him back, and the hounds 
 soon caught him, and we run that fox two hours and a 
 half, and then we went home ; and I'll tell you, sir, who 
 
 were out that day, and that were Lord Rosslyn." 
 
 "Do you remember, old friend, the day you killed 
 
 your fox somewhere about Stockbridge, from the 
 
 Weyhill side o' the country ? " 
 
 " Ay, and indeed I do, and I hunted the hounds 
 
 that day. We met, you see, sir, at Chute Lodge, and 
 
 Mr. Henry Fowle, if he were alive, poor man, would 
 
 i First Whip. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 21 
 
 remember it well. Well, sir, we found in the Gorse, 
 and went away towards Chute windmill, and on to 
 Limmers, and from there to Conholt Park, and when 
 we got to Conholt Park we run him right round and 
 out right away for Weyhill, and on for Lord Win- 
 chester's place ; you do know it, sir, though his lordship 
 don't hunt." 
 
 " Amport ? " I suggest. 
 
 " That's it, sir ; oh, dear, dear me, I am getting 
 quite forgetful ; well, sir, we run him from there, away 
 for Clatford Oakcuts, and on for Stockbridge, and 
 killed him on Houghton Down, and then we were 
 some way from home." 
 
 " Why that must have been as good a run as you 
 had once with the Duke of Grafton, after the mishap 
 with the vixen." 
 
 "Ah, dear, dear me, and I remember that well. 
 'Twere on the 13th o' April, and we found a fox in 
 Jarvis's Gorse, near Newport Pagnell, and we didn't 
 know there were a vixen there, or any cubs laid down. 
 Well, you see, sir, the fox wouldn't go away, so the 
 hounds caught her, and when I went in to take the fox 
 away, oh dear, dear, I see 'twere a vixen that had cubs, 
 and all of a sudden I see the whip, as were with me, 
 dive down amongst some long sedgy grass in the cover, 
 and he picked up two poor little cubs, only a few days 
 
22 HOUND AND HOEN ; 
 
 old, and put 'em in his pocket, and there were two 
 more, but the hounds got hold o' them before he could 
 save 'em, and you know the rest, sir. Well, we were 
 very sad, and just at that moment a fox were halloed 
 away at the end of the Gorse, but we didn't hurry 
 much, for I tell you, sir, arter that poor vixen, we 
 didn't care to go after him, but the duke called to me 
 to get the hounds Out quick as he didn't know what 
 had happened and then I was obliged to go. Well, 
 sir, our fox had a pretty good start, but we soon settled 
 on his line, and he went straight as straight, and arter 
 we had been running him some time a gentleman 
 farmer, who lived on the outside of the duke's country, 
 says to me, ' George, I believe we've got a Creslow 
 fox.' ' Oh no, sir,' says I, ' that's a long way off.' 
 Well, sir, we run that fox straight into the Creslow 
 country, and that's in the Yale o' Aylesbury, and there 
 we run him to earth, in Creslow great ground. Oh ! 
 it were a beautiful run, 'twere about two hours and 
 twenty minutes ; but there, 'twere eighteen miles from 
 where he came from, in Jarvis's Gorse, I remember 
 it well." 
 
 " And how about the little cubs, old man ? " 
 " Why, sir, I'll tell ye ; the whip give 'em to a 
 keeper of the duke's, and a very good sort o' man 
 he was, and he took 'em home, and give 'em to his 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 23 
 
 wife, a very tidy 'ooman, and she had a cat with 
 kittens, and she took away the kittens and put the 
 cubs to the cat, and she brought 'em up, and they 
 used to play about the house quite tame, till after a 
 time they got away." 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " WHAT did you think of Wherwell Wood, old friend, 
 as a place for hunting, for you must have known it 
 pretty well ? " 
 
 " Well, sir, Wherwell Wood were a very nice place to 
 make young hounds, at all times when it had fair play 
 and been let alone, it was a fine place for hunting, 
 and would always hold a fox, and after Christmas 
 when foxes began to travel and move about, we always 
 had a plenty as came from other places, and some very 
 good runs I've had from there, for, as you know, sir, 
 I was always there, every Wednesday. Well, you see, 
 sir, as soon as I got into the wood and began to cheer 
 'em a bit, if there were an old travelling fox near, as 
 soon as he heard my voice or the horn he would think 
 ' Well, here's old Carter come out arter me and I must 
 be off or he'll catch me/ and away he'd go at once, and 
 as soon as the hounds got settled to him, away they 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 25 
 
 went, with old Carter after him, and very often he 
 did manage to catch him too. Oh ! a nice place were 
 Wherwell Wood, when it had fair play ; but that was 
 not always. Why, sir, I call to mind a man to whom 
 Mr. Smith give ten pounds a year to look after the foxes, 
 and he did look after 'em in his own way, for, burn 
 the rogue I he killed every one he could catch hold on. 
 Why, sir, I remember, sir, one season, the last day o' 
 hunting, we were just a-going home, and that man 
 come up to me and says, ' Well, Carter, I suppose we 
 sha'n't see you here any more this season, so if you 
 like to come down to the " Lilly Roarer " (White 
 Lion), I'll stand you a glass.' Well, sir, I looked him 
 straight in the face and said, ' Have ye got such a 
 thing then as a shilling about ye ? for if ye have you 
 just go down to the collymaker's, and buy a cord and 
 hang yourself, for I'll be blessed if I'll drink with ye.' 
 I beg your pardon, sir, but he, a man, to take ten 
 pounds of Mr. Smith's money and then kill foxes. 
 But I remember once, sir, a curious thing about 
 Wherwell Wood. You know, sir, I hunted Wherwell 
 Wood every Wednesday and Mr. Smith stayed at 
 home, or went out a-visiting, or some such thing, but 
 sometimes he would come out, as a gentleman, he used 
 to say. Oh dear, oh dear. Well, sir, I beg your 
 pardon, one day we were at Wherwell Wood and Mr. 
 
26 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 Smith were out, and we very soon found a fox, and the 
 hounds hunted him round and round once or twice, 
 till at last he seemed to think, ' Well, I must be off or 
 old Carter will catch me/ and out he come over the road 
 and into the next field, where, behold, there were a 
 sheepfold, and a shepherd and his dog, for 'twere 
 lambing time you see, sir; well, the fox see the 
 shepherd if the shepherd didn't see the fox, and back 
 he turns again and into the wood ; well, sir, Mr. Smith 
 sees that the fox were headed, but he know'd the 
 shepherd were only a-doing his duty and minding his 
 master's property, so he didn't say anything to him ; 
 and we knocked the fox about a bit in the wood again, 
 when out he comes a little lower down, and as we 
 come out the hounds couldn't carry it over the road, 
 but one or two feathered a bit, and got back into the 
 wood ; and in the road were an old lady in a red cloak 
 coming along with a bundle. Well, Mr. Smith rode up 
 to her, and says, '-Have you seen the fox, my good 
 woman?' 'Yes, sir,' says she, 'he corned out just 
 there/ pointing to the place, 'and then turned back 
 again in there where the dogs be.' Well, sir, Mr. 
 Smith looks at the old woman, and says, ' I don't wish 
 you any harm, madam, and you looks pretty well, only 
 I wishes you had been at home, and abed,' and off he 
 goes. Oh ! I did laugh. Well, sir, we gave that fox 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 27 
 
 another turn round the wood and he come away again, 
 and the third time there were no shepherd, and no 
 ould 'ooman in the way, and we ran him nearly to 
 Doles, and there we catched him ; oh ! 'twere a 
 beautiful run, and I remember it well. How far, sir, 
 should I call it to Wherwell Wood from Tedworth ? 
 Well, you can just see it, on a clear day, from 
 Ashton Copse, but you must go by Cktford and over 
 the water, and then the wood is more than two miles 
 through, but I've heard the faggoters say when they've 
 been at work at Ashton Copse, and sat down quiet at 
 their dinner hour, if the wind were in the right quarter, 
 they could hear old Carter's voice in Wherwell Wood, 
 and sometimes the horn, and 'tis a matter o' many 
 miles as the crow flies ; but there, I shall never hallo 
 a fox in Wherwell Wood again ; but, sir, I am very 
 thankful that I am as well as 1 am, and able to get- 
 about. O yes, I am very thankful." 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 " You must have come across a good many characters 
 in your time ? " 
 
 "Ah, I believe I have, sir some good and some 
 very bad ones, but I never found a man that was 
 fond o' fox-hunting but had some good about him. 
 Why, there were Mr. Grantley Berkeley, he were a 
 very odd man, and he hunted his own hounds most 
 days when he kept the Oakley, and I were with him 
 as kennel-huntsman. But though he hunted the 
 hounds himself, I were generally out with him. 
 Well, sir, a gentleman may do all very well for a 
 time, but 'twill beat him in the end. 'Tis a servant's 
 work to hunt hounds, as he has to be here, there, and 
 everywhere, while others be standing still or sitting 
 about. Well, sir, Mr. Berkeley were a very good sort 
 o' man, but he were a great dandy, and I don't like 
 a dandy, he be afear'd o' dirtying his boots, or spoiling 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 29 
 
 his coat. Why, sir, I remember one day the hounds 
 were in Odel Wood oh, and a fine large cover it were ! 
 and as I were coming up a ride, as the hounds were 
 running, I see Mr. Berkeley off his horse, and were 
 stooping down. Well, sir, 'twere towards the end o' the 
 season in April, and I thought Mr. Berkeley had met 
 with some accident, or had 'tumbled off,' so I rode 
 up and said, ' I beg your pardon, sir, I hope there be 
 nothing wrong ; ' and he looked up and said, ' Oh, look 
 here, George, at these beautiful violets; I couldn't help 
 just picking a few to put in my button-hole.' Oh dear, 
 dear, dear ! and he a-huntmg the hounds, and they 
 a-running, and to stop to pick violets ! I was quite 
 ashamed of him. Well, sir, I know'd a good many 
 clergymen, as hunted regularly, and very good sports- 
 men some of them were. Why, sir, there were a 
 Mr. Graves, who were a clergyman, and he kept 
 harriers, that I lived with ; but he weren't much of 
 a horseman. Then there were Mr. Dickins, as you 
 know'd, who afterwards lived in Kent. He had a place 
 called Wollaston Hall, in Northamptonshire, but he 
 never lived there, poor man ! and I fear lived too fast 
 elsewhere ; but I know'd him, and he corned to stay 
 with Mr. Knatchbull at Cholderton Lodge, and hunted 
 with Mr. Smith, and a very good sportsman he were. 
 Well, sir, I remember once it were just after Christ- 
 
30 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 mas, and we had a hard frost, and couldn't hunt much 
 Mr. Smith says to me, ' Carter, there is Mr. Dickins 
 a-staying with Mr. Knatchbull, and wants to see my 
 hounds, so you bring all the hounds you can to Sidbury 
 Hill o' Monday.' Well, sir, I know'd Mr. Smith were 
 a very odd man, but on the Monday morning we met 
 at Sidbury Hill. The frost was too hard to ride much, 
 but I took fifty-nine couple out, and how Mr. Dickins 
 did laugh ! There were plenty o' foxes then, you know, 
 sir, at Sidbury Hill,, for there were plenty o' lieing, and 
 they were very soon hunting all over the place, there 
 were no keeping 'em together. Oh, dear me, what 
 a sight it were ! I shall never forget it. And how 
 Mr. Dickins did laugh ! Oh, he were very nice 
 company but there, you knows all about him. sir, 
 for you were with him in Kent. Then there were 
 Mr. Loraine Smith, he were a clergyman, and a very 
 odd one too; and then there were the Bishop of 
 Worcester, who I know'd, and he kept hounds, and 
 Sam Jones were his huntsman, and I went to school 
 with his son. And oh, a many more, and some, sir, 
 that you knows. Ha ! ha ! you stick to fox-hunting, 
 sir ; I've said so times and times ; there's nothing like 
 it. Oh, if I hadn't hunted all my life, I should never 
 ha' been here now. Then, sir, there were Colonel 
 Lascelles, as you remembers, a mighty big man with 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 31 
 
 a black patch over one eye, as used to live at the 
 ' White Hart ' at Andover all the winter, and hunted 
 every day with the Tedworth ; and it were wonderful 
 the long distances he would come to meet the hounds, 
 and I've know'd his being at New Mill and that 
 must have been twenty mile and he always rode 
 to cover and back again after hunting; and then, 
 poor man ! he never could ride up to hounds much 
 if they went away, for he were said to be over 
 twenty stone ; but he was very fond of hunting, but 
 he never attended to his condition and put on a 
 deal of flesh. Oh dear, dear; but he were a very 
 good man, and everybody liked him. And then 
 there were General Shubrick who used to live at 
 the 'Star/ and he were a mighty little man, and he 
 kept fourteen hunters, and as many grooms ; and all he 
 thought about was to see his horses prance about along 
 the roads, and he used to have 'em all out in a string 
 when he didn't hunt, and make the grooms ride 'em 
 about for his amusement ; and besides that, he used to 
 have their pictures taken, and give 'em away to all his 
 friends. And then there were a Mr. Kerrish, a clergy- 
 man, somewhere down in Somersetshire or Dorsetshire, 
 and he used to come to Whittlebury Forest, when I was 
 with the Duke of Grafton, for a week or so, and he 
 always had three good hunters, and he hunted four 
 
32 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 days a week, and shot t'other two; but then he had 
 no family, and plenty of money, and was a very good 
 clergyman too, I believe. And then there were Mr. 
 Knatchbull, of Cholderton Lodge, and Mr. Henry 
 Fowle, of Chute Lodge; but there, you know'd both 
 o' them, and good sportsmen they were, and very fond 
 o' hunting ; bat I know'd Mr. Knatchbull before you, 
 when he were a young man, and curate of Fritwell, in 
 Oxfordshire, and he used sometimes to hunt with us 
 then. And then there were Mr. William Etwall, but 
 Mr. Smith didn't like him, nor he Mr. Smith. 'Twern't 
 everybody that Mr. Smith did like, and I heerd tell, 
 for I weren't out, something about a hound being 
 knocked over in a ride, or something o' that, but, of 
 course, it might be an accident ; and then there were 
 something else : but there, never mind, Mr. Etwall 
 were always a very good sort o' man I believe, and 
 I never know'd anything against him. And then 
 there were Mr. Pierrepont, of Conholt Park, and a 
 nice tidy, quiet man he were, and very intimate with 
 Mr. Smith, though they weren't alike ; but Mr. Pierre- 
 pont were very fond o' hunting, and were a very neat 
 man in his dress, though no dandy. And then there 
 were another, who were very often staying with him, 
 and that were Lord Charles Wellesley, who married his 
 daughter, and who went blind, poor man ! but I can 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 33 
 
 .tell you something of him. Whenever the hounds 
 were at Conholt Park about Christmas time, and I 
 were there, his lordship told his man to take him up 
 to ould Carter, and he used to ask me how the hounds 
 were getting on, and what sport we had had, and he 
 always shook hands with me before leaving, and I 
 know'd he would leave three sovereigns there. And 
 there were many more that I know'd ; but there, they 
 are all gone, and so will poor ould Carter before long." 
 
 " But you have forgotten one other character at least, 
 and that is the late Squire at Tedworth." 
 
 " Oh dear, dear me, and he were an odd man, a very 
 odd man were Mr. Smith ; why, he were unlike any one 
 else, and didn't care what he did or what he said. Why 
 there, he used in frosty weather, when he couldn't go 
 a-hunting, to have down three or four horses to the ride, 
 and he'd make me, or Lees, or some one else, stay there, 
 and he'd gallop round and round, as hard as ever he 
 could and just in the same track, and I don't believe 
 he would have pulled up if any one had been in his 
 way. 'Twere just the same going home from hunting, 
 hard as ever he could gallop, when he didn't have his 
 carriage you know, sir. Why I've been going along quiet 
 with the hounds towards Sidbury Hill, coming back 
 from Everley that way, and I've seen Mr. Smith coming 
 along galloping and waving his hand, and I've said to 
 
 D 
 
34 HOUND AND HORN; 
 
 Cowley, ' We must ggtibut o' the way, or Mr. Smith will 
 be right over us ;' and he never turned either way, but 
 by he went, and never took any notice of us or hound, 
 or anything else. Of course you know, sir, I put my 
 hand up to my cap as he passed, and so did Cow ley. 
 Oh, he were a very odd man ! Why, sir, I've know'd 
 him of a Sunday wait at the church door after the 
 service, and I'd try not to see him, for I know'd what 
 would happen; and there he'd stand till I come up, 
 and then I'd hear, ' George/ ' Carter' (for I didn't seem 
 to hear him, you know, sir, the first time) ; and I'd come 
 up and say, ' I beg your pardon, sir, but did you wish 
 to speak to me ? ' And then he'd begin asking what 
 hounds I was a going to take out the next day, and all 
 about the hunting, sir, and there were the people, you 
 know, all stopt back, as couldn't get out of church ; and 
 I'd say, ' I beg your pardon, sir, but hadn't I better come 
 down to the House, sir, and see you, sir, and then you 
 can tell me what you like ; for these good people, you 
 see, sir, want to get out of church, sir.' And then he'd 
 say, ' Oh ! do they ? Well, I suppose they do ; well, you 
 come down.' And then on he'd go, but he never 
 thought anything of it, and that too of a Sunday and 
 coming out o' church. Oh ! I was quite ashamed 
 of him. 
 
 Well, sir, you know'd Osmond the butcher, of 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 35 
 
 Vernham, and a very good man were Mr. Osmond, and 
 always walked a puppy; and you know'd his blind 
 pony he used to ride a-hunting well, we'll have some- 
 thing to say about him presently ; but I remember one 
 morning his coming up to Tedworth, and he corned to 
 my house, and I was a-talking to him in the yard, when 
 Mr. Smith come down to the kennel to see some young 
 hounds as were come in; and while I was a showing 
 him the hounds, one of 'em sees Mr. Osmond- who 
 kept back you know, sir, for he were a tidy, well- 
 behaved man, as didn't push himself forward and 
 the hound went up to him and jumped on him, and 
 Mr. Osmond says, ' Lexicon, Lexicon ' ; and Mr. Smith 
 turned round sharp, ' What do you know about 
 Lexicon ? ' 'I beg your pardon, sir,' says Mr. Osmond, 
 'but I walked him/ Well, Mr. Smith spoke to him 
 very sharp ; and then I came forward and says, ' I beg 
 your pardon, sir, but Mr. Osmond did walk that hound, 
 and he's walked a great many hounds, sir, and very 
 well he does 'em ; and you see, sir, the hound do know 
 him ' ; and he turned round to me and says, ' Oh ! did 
 he ? Well ! Hum ! ' and off he went, and never said 
 any more. Oh, I were quite ashamed of him, and Mr. 
 Osmond a respectable man but there, 'twere his way. 
 Well, sir, talking about Mr. Osmond, oh, he were 
 a very good man, and very fond o' hunting, as you 
 
 D2 
 
36 HOUND AND HOKN ; 
 
 know, and generally had a blind horse, but he knew 
 the horse and the horse knew him, and he got him 
 along somehow ; well, sir, his wife, who were a very 
 tidy woman, thought he had other things to do besides 
 going a fox hunting ; and I've know'd when the hounds 
 met at Chute Lodge, Osmond would ride up in his blue 
 smock, and his basket o' meat on his arm, and presently 
 you would see him come round from the kitchen door 
 without his basket and in a tidy coat, and he'd leave 
 the smock with the basket and come a-hunting; and 
 arter 'twere over, he'd go back and pick up the basket, 
 and put on the blue smock again, and ride home ; but 
 he didn't tell his wife what he'd been arter, and she, 
 poor 'ooman, knew no better, and thought he'd been 
 only round with the meat-basket. But there were 
 another clergyman, sir, that I forgot, that you knows, 
 Mr. Tom Lascelles Iremonger, who lives at Clatford; 
 well you know, sir, he can't see nor hear, as he's deaf 
 and pretty blind, but very fond of a bit of hunting. 
 Well, sir, I remember one day when hounds were 
 running at Abbotts Ann, he comes right up against 
 me, and almost knocked me out o' the saddle, and he 
 never know'd it till afterwards, till some one says to 
 him, 'I say, Mr. Iremonger, do you know you almost 
 knocked Carter over just now?' 'No, I didn't,' says 
 he, 'for I haven't seen him.' 'That's very likely/ says 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CARTER. 37 
 
 the gentleman, for he know'd Mr. Ire monger were 
 nearly blind, ' but you did, nevertheless/ Well, sir, as 
 soon as he heard of it, he comes up to me when he got 
 the opportunity, and says how sorry he was, and hoped 
 he hadn't hurt me, and so it all ended very well ; but 
 I did laugh afterwards. There, poor man, he couldn't 
 see, you know, sir, and he didn't mean no harm, and 
 he was very fond o' a bit of hunting, and a very nice 
 gentleman too." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "You were asking, old friend, about my puppy. I 
 hope she will do. The puppy grows and is getting 
 full of mischief; but somebody says she hopes I shall 
 not complain of the dressmaker's bill, as there are 
 many rents in the youngsters' frocks ; and as to sponges, 
 brushes, and stable-leathers, I won't say where they go 
 to ; but still she is a nice puppy, and if she is only 
 put forward, and I should see her recovering a line, or 
 malting out a cold scent by and by, why, all the rest 
 will be forgotten. And then they are such sensible 
 animals, and never forget you." 
 
 " Well, sir, I do always like to see a hound puppy 
 or two about, it shows there is a gentleman in the place, 
 and that's something. Why, sir, I remember a Mr. 
 Stone, as were a clergyman, and he lived at Blisworth, 
 and a very good kind o' man he were, and lie always 
 walked a puppy ; and there were several farmers, as 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 39 
 
 were tenants o' the Duke of Graf ton about there, for 
 the Duke owned a deal o' property in that country ; 
 and Mr. Stone had some daughters, and besides the 
 hound puppy they had a retriever dog or two ; and 
 they used to go round, and collect all the puppies from 
 the different houses, and walk 'em all out together. 
 Oh ! 'twere quite a sight, and I've seen them young 
 ladies come along with three or four couple, times and 
 times, and they so pleased; and the hounds knowed 
 them well, and you may depend upon it they knowed 
 the hounds. And as to sensible, as you say. Why, sir, 
 did I ever tell you about some draft-hounds I sent to 
 Lord Sondes, at Lees Court, near Faversham, in Kent ? 
 Well, sir, 'twas when I was living with the Duke of 
 Grafton, and Lord Sondes hunted a pack of hounds in 
 East Kent, and he sent to me at Whittlebury Forest, 
 where our kennels were, to know if I could let him 
 have some draft-hounds, and if so, I were to send them 
 to Buckingham Castle in Northamptonshire, which 
 belonged to his lordship, and they were to be sent on 
 from there to him in Kent. Well, sir, I sent eight or 
 nine couple, I forget exactly which ; but there, 'tis a 
 many years ago ; and they were sent up to London 
 and on into Kent by road, for, you see, sir, there were 
 no railroads then. Well, the hounds got down all 
 right, and after some time I got a letter from Lord 
 
40 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 Sondes to say lie liked the hounds, but one of them, 
 ' Anthony/ was missing and could not be found, and 
 that if he had got back into Northamptonshire, he 
 were worth all the lot put together. Well, sir, I 
 supposed Anthony had strayed in a strange place, and 
 never thought to see him again, till one night just 
 before we were going to bed I heard a hound baying 
 outside by the kennel, and on going to the door I 
 heard him plain and I thought I knowed the note, and 
 so I sung out 'Anthony, Anthony/ Well, sir, in a 
 moment, as sure as I sit here to talk to you, I found 
 a hound's nose against my hand, for 'twas too dark to 
 see, and I let him in, and sure enough there was 
 Anthony, very poor, but I knowed him; and after a 
 time I got him round by little and little, and I sent 
 him back again to Lord Sondes, at Lees Court in Kent, 
 and I never know'd but what he did very well." 
 
 " Why, old friend, I know Lees Court well ; but that 
 hound must have found his way through London, 
 unless he swam the Thames, and that's not at all 
 likely/' 
 
 "\Vell, sir, they are sensible animals. How the 
 hound got back I never knew, but he did get 
 back to Whittlebury, and I sent him to Lord Sondes 
 again." 
 
 "Well, sir, I think I told you about a bitch we 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 41 
 
 had called 'Julia/ You see we used to send eight 
 or ten couples o' bitches, in Mr. Smith's time, into 
 Wales every season, to whelp; and arter the railroad 
 were opened, we used to send them to Swindon in the 
 van, and then on by railroad. Well, sir, I remember 
 being out in the park exercising the hounds, at Ted- 
 worth, about two days arter we had sent off a lot o' 
 bitches into Wales, and I see a stray hound come across 
 and go into a small plantation, and I could tell at once 
 she were heavy in whelp ; and I says to Cowley, who 
 were with me, * Cowley, what hound is that? she's no 
 business here ; ' and as I came towards the plantation 
 I see the hounds begin to show something had crossed 
 before 'em, as they put their noses down, and I says to 
 Cowley again, ' Why, I believe that were Julia as we 
 sent away/ and I called out ' Julia, Julia/ And, sure 
 enough, out she come, and 'twere Julia. Well, sir, I 
 never heard anything about it till the man as were sent 
 with the bitches come back, and then I says to him, 
 ' Well, did you get 'em all right into Wales ? ' and he 
 says, 'All but Julia, and somehow she slipt away in 
 changing at Swindon, and we couldn't catch her, and 
 we couldn't make out what became of her/ Well, sir, 
 you see that bitch found her way back to Tedworth 
 'tis about five and twenty mile. She were very poor 
 when she come in, but I soon got her right again, and 
 
42 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 we kept her at home, and some very nice whelps she 
 had : but there you see, sir, they are sensible animals. 
 Well, sir, you say your hound is a bit of a thief : I hope 
 he may do for you what one did for me once, when I 
 was with Mr. Grantley Berkeley. I remember a hound 
 we walked at home called Hudibras, and a very fine 
 hound he were, and Mr. Berkeley kept him several 
 seasons. Well, sir, my little girl, as she was then, my 
 
 daughter, I mean, as is married now, and lives at , 
 
 you know her well, for she comes up to stay with me 
 sometimes, and is mightily come of it now, for she ain't 
 very small ; well, she comes running in, and says, 
 'Father, there is Hudibras making a great hole in 
 the onion bed ; ' well, sir, I thought the hound were 
 burying a bone, as they will do, so out I went, and 
 there I seed him working away and covering the place 
 up with his nose : so I sung out, ' Hudibras, w r hat are 
 ye about there ? ' and as I came towards him, I saw 
 something sticking out of the ground, as I thought was 
 a bit o' bacon ; so I went up and raked away the 
 mould, and there were a large bit o' beautiful bacon 
 just as it might have been cut off, and I took it in and 
 showed it to my wife, and she knowed nothing about it. 
 Well, sir, I didn't say anything, but I put it into the 
 scales, and it weighed twelve pounds, and I kept it for 
 a time, and I never heard as any one had lost any, and 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 43 
 
 so I had it cut up into rashers, and used to have some 
 for my breakfast of a morning and very good they 
 were. Why, sir, if ever you are unlucky enough to get 
 a hound as has distemper, and if you see him when he 
 is getting a little better bury a bone, you may be sure 
 it is a good sign : he can't eat it then, but he knows 
 where to find it when he can. Why, sir, I remember 
 Mr. Smith coming down to the kennels one day, and 
 there was a young hound that were very bad, and he 
 said, 'Carter, put that hound out o' the way; he can't 
 live.' Now, sir, just at that moment I see that hound 
 nosing amongst some stones and rubbish that was 
 thrown together in a corner of the yard, and come away 
 with a bit of bone and go and bury it. ' What's that 
 he's got ? ' says Mr. Smith, ' take it away from him, that 
 won't do him any good.' ' I beg your pardon, sir/ says 
 I, ' thai tells me that hound will recover, and I sha'n't 
 put him away just yet/ Well, sir, the hound did 
 recover, and we had him in the pack several seasons. 
 Depend upon it, sir, they can always tell you better 
 than you can teach them. Well, sir, I remember when 
 I were with the Duke of Grafton, they thought you 
 couldn't cure a hound of the yellows; now, I won't 
 say you can always cure him, but I know it is to be 
 done. We had a hound called Midas, and he were 
 by Mr. Osbaldeston's ' Monarch ; ' well, sir, that hound 
 
4-1 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 seemed as bad as bad with the yellows, and Tom, the 
 feeder, said he would die. 'Not this time, Thomas,' 
 says I, 'if I can help it.' Well, sir, I gave the dog 
 some medicine that I had, and after a time I see him 
 just move his stern when I came in to where he was, 
 and called him, ' Midas, Midas.' Well, sir, I thought that 
 good, and then I got him to lap a little milk and broth, 
 and after a time he began to get better, and I got him 
 round ; and I remember Mr. Tom Smith (' Gentleman ' 
 Tom Smith he were called) who hunted the Pychley 
 for two years after Lord Chesterfield, and who after- 
 wards had the Craven, being out with us near Brackley, 
 and he greatly admired the hound. There, sir, they are 
 sensible animals, and if ever you see a hound begin to 
 look up, or move his stern as if he were pleased to see 
 you, arter distemper, or yellows, or anything of the sort, 
 you may depend on it, with ca,re, he'll come round. Oh, 
 I've seen it times and times." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IT may very naturally be asked, whether, after his 
 retirement from active life and his residence at Milton, 
 as George Carter still enjoyed an occasional day's 
 hunting, and was very well able to ride, though not 
 perhaps as hard as he was wont, there is nothing to 
 record about him ? Now, as the writer of these 
 memoirs, or recollections, or whatever they may be 
 named, pretty generally accompanied the old hunts- 
 man on all these little expeditions, and never felt so 
 proud as when he came to the meet with his old friend, 
 the only subject of regret with him is, that while he 
 can recall many traits of character and many incidents 
 in hunting worthy of note, there are still many more 
 which have passed from his recollection, or only re- 
 membered in such a hazy kind of manner as would 
 involve much " making up " in the recital ; and as the 
 main object of these memoirs is to adhere strictly to 
 
46 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 the plain unvarnished truth in all that relates to his 
 old friend, and to give Ms own accounts of his former 
 life pretty much in his own words, it would be but 
 mere book-making were he to dress up a lot of exciting 
 stories with George Carter as the principal character ; 
 beside which, it would be one of the first things which 
 the honest old man would not only have condemned, 
 but held in the most supreme contempt. Still, there 
 are many incidents which are as fresh in the writer's 
 memory as at the time of their occurrence, and as 
 notes respecting them were jotted down at the time 
 they are easily referred to, and the facts to which they 
 relate may be strictly relied on. I remember well the 
 first time George Carter assumed once more the red 
 coat and cap, and it was on this wise. He had begun 
 to come out pretty regularly with the Tedworth on 
 a Tuesday, as on that day they hunt on the Oare Hill 
 side of the country, that is, somewhere about Pewsey 
 Vale. The whole of this is within easy reach of Milton, 
 and was generally the day selected by George Carter 
 to meet his old friends with the old pack : but still 
 for a long time I could not prevail on him to appear 
 in his regular hunting dress. It was always " No, sir ; 
 no, sir : I can ride just as well as I am." Whether it 
 was a kind of natural modesty which was one of his 
 great characteristics or from any other cause, I never 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 47 
 
 presumed to inquire, but his dress was invariably a 
 black frock coat, properly cut of course, and a high hat. 
 Well, on a certain Monday morning the Craven 
 were advertised for Stype, and as the weather was 
 pretty good, and the old man in tolerable fettle, I had 
 proposed to him some little time before that the first 
 time the Craven met at Stype we should go there 
 together. Everything was arranged during my sittings 
 with him in the previous week, and I had privately 
 instructed Mrs. Carter to bring down his red coat " to 
 air, for fear the moth should get into it" Now, as my 
 old friend was a little imperious in his own household, 
 I fear " the tidy kind of a 'ooman " did not get much 
 credit for her thoughtfulness ; but still the coat was 
 allowed to remain in the sitting-room, and gradually 
 it was hung over the back of the old man's chair. 
 The Saturday evening previous to the Craven meet at 
 Stype was to be the climax, and as good luck would 
 have it, it was an evening of thorough good humour ; 
 not as regarded the old man's manners towards myself 
 for that was invariably the same but to the family 
 circle ; and as David Edwards, the huntsman to the 
 Craven, had formerly been at Tedworth as whip, it was 
 an additional inducement to hold out to the old man 
 for appearing before his former pupil, " as a huntsman 
 should do" Night and morning stories do not always 
 
48 HOUND AND HOKN ; 
 
 agree, and there was a Sunday, too, to come between ; 
 and if I remember right, we had the old 104th Psalm, 
 "My soul, praise the Lord," &c., for we were old- 
 fashioned people at Milton, and stuck to the Psalms 
 of David and a good but very plain service. Now, I 
 only saw old George " in church " on Sundays, as he was 
 a very proper-thinking man ; and on these evenings 
 I never went in to chat with him, as we might have 
 got on hunting, and it was just as well not. Now, of 
 all the tunes in the psalm- or hymn-books, the old 
 104th was George Carter's delight, and no sooner did 
 it begin than the old man's head began to go, and his 
 rich full voice could be heard, as he threw his tongue 
 and chanted away ; as he expressed himself, " Oh, it 
 were beautiful ! " Now, I won't say it was the effect 
 of the old 104th, but I candidly confess I felt almost 
 inclined to commence the words of that self-same hymn 
 on the Monday morning. As I pulled up at the old 
 huntsman's door, to ride on with him to Stype, I could 
 discern something like a figure in a red coat and cap 
 through the window ; and in a few minutes all doubt 
 was dispelled by seeing him issue forth from the stable- 
 yard in the saddle and in proper hunting costume. 
 Our way was by Burbage Wharf, Savernake Station, 
 and then across the grass towards the reservoir, just 
 above Savernake House, and so across the park for 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 49 
 
 Bedwin. As we came down towards the pleasure 
 grounds in front of the house, my old friend, as I 
 knew, was bearing a little too much to the left, and not 
 for the gate that I always went through in crossing 
 that part of the forest, and I hinted as much to him ; 
 but as he seemed to know the way very well, I let him 
 alone, till, on passing through another gate which he 
 opened, I found we were, as I expected, crossing the 
 grounds. Well, I was aware that nobody was down just 
 then at the house, but I remarked to Carter, " I say, 
 old friend, we are right in the middle of the Marquis's 
 grounds." 
 
 " Well, sir," rejoined he, looking very stern, " and 
 what if we be ? Won't he see my red coat and cap, 
 and know we's a-going a-hunting ; and would any 
 gentleman or any nobleman think to stop anybody as 
 was a-going a-hunting ? Oh, dear, dear me, no, we 
 may go where we like, provided we don't do any 
 damage. Ahem!" (the usual conclusion of satis- 
 faction to a clincher, like the cluck of a fowl that 
 has laid an egg). 
 
 Now any one who has ever met hounds at 
 Stype will know it is not the soundest-going in the 
 world ; while it is a fine wild country for foxes and 
 hunting, it is not an easy one to ride, as it is frightfully 
 
 E 
 
50 HOUND AND HOKN ; 
 
 boggy. On the day in question we got a fox away 
 towards Bedwin Brails and across Burridge Heath 
 a place fit for nothing but wild hunting or shooting, 
 and the latter principally snipe. A former steward to 
 the Marquis of Ailesbury (we give no names) thought 
 probably to enrich the noble owner by trying to reclaim 
 the land on Burridge Heath, and convert it into arable 
 and pasture. Poor man ! I wished, that day, he had 
 attempted to farm the shores of the Dead Sea. But it 
 had this effect, it converted Burridge Heath into a 
 regular trap for horses, as it was a network of under- 
 drains, and those, too, pretty deep. Tis not pleasant 
 galloping across these with hounds running, even where 
 they are distinctly visible in pasture ; but when the 
 plough has nearly effaced them, it is we don't approve 
 of strong language, so we will say not heavenly. The 
 Craven, then, were running across Burridge Heath 
 towards the Brails, and having cleared all the drains 
 over the grass without accident, the writer of these 
 memoirs (for once) was really enjoying a sticky plough, 
 where he thought the ground was nothing more than 
 holding, when in a moment his horse was on his head, 
 and he himself on the broad of his back in something 
 like a cross between soft soap and railway grease. 
 Confound the drains ! They had been carried across 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 51 
 
 the plough as well; but 'twas soft falling, and horse 
 and man were soon up again, and not even a shoe 
 
 pulled off. 
 
 " Plenty of dirt, 
 No hurt ; " 
 
 so 'twas only to get to hounds as soon as possible. As 
 the " Knight of the Fall " came up, he saw old George 
 Carter sitting on his horse close to one of the whips, 
 who was watching a ride ; and the whip, on seeing 
 what had happened, exclaimed, with a kind of grin, 
 " Well, old fellow, you've been and got it, hain't ee ? " 
 I shall never forget poor old Carter's face as he looked 
 round and comprehended the whole in a moment. 
 " Oh, dear, dear me, sir, I hope you ain't hurt I" and, 
 turning to the grinning whip, he opened upon him : 
 " What do you mean ? you, a servant, to speak to a 
 gentleman in that way ? Why, you've had no eddi- 
 cation, and don't know a B from the gable end of a 
 barn ! " and then, turning to me again, with a kind of 
 look of sorrow, he continued, " Oh, sir, I'm quite 
 ashamed of him ! " 
 
 E2 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 I THINK I have stated in a former part of these 
 recollections, that George Carter, with all his profes- 
 sional knowledge, was a very modest man as to his 
 own merits ; and while he never forgot himself towards 
 any of those with whom he came in contact, never 
 allowed any one to take a liberty with himself without 
 at once letting him know he had been guilty of a 
 breach of good manners, though it was generally done 
 in a very quiet way. Of all the characters he disliked, 
 or rather despised, there was nothing so uncongenial 
 with his own tastes as what he called "a popinjay 
 kind o' chap," and on more than one occasion I was 
 witness to the old man's quiet set-down to one of 
 these gentry. 
 
 The Ted worth were one morning at Burbage Wharf, 
 and the place of meeting was in a field, just off the 
 Marlborough and Salisbury road/ On our turning into 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEOKGE CARTER. 53 
 
 this said meadow, I observed that a part of it had 
 been railed off and divided into various pens, as there 
 had been some show, or something of that kind, during 
 the previous week, for sheep; at all events these 
 divisions still remained. They were light post and 
 rails, not above two feet high, and some few yards 
 apart. As the congregation of the faithful began to 
 assemble, and one after another lord, squire, or yeo- 
 man, or what not put in an appearance, the greetings 
 with the old man became pretty general. Now one 
 generally knows the old faces at a meet with hounds 
 pretty well, and for the same reason a stranger is soon 
 spotted, particularly if he is well got up and "ap- 
 pointed," either as regards his horse or himself. As 
 one after another came up, and, after the. usual 
 recognition, turned away again to inspect the hounds, 
 or to go through the same thing with friends elsewhere, 
 I observed a stranger, very young, very well mounted, 
 and most elaborately got up in every way as to his 
 own attire in fact he looked like "business," and 
 ought to have gone in any country. But there was 
 something about him that I didn't exactly like, and I 
 own "popinjay chap" crossed my mind. I couldn't 
 make out that he had come with anybody, and he 
 seemed to be altogether a stranger, but perfectly at 
 home with himself. As he moved about and just kept 
 
54 HOUND AND HOEN ; 
 
 going, I saw him, as he came towards the rails I have 
 mentioned, touch his horse with the spur, and in a 
 moment he was over them, one after another, the horse 
 doing it pretty much in his stride, and as he came 
 past George Carter and myself, having finished this 
 circus performance, he pulled up suddenly and out 
 came 
 
 "Good morning, Carter; glad to see you out again, 
 old man." 
 
 My poor old friend's face was a caution ; the stern 
 look was on in a moment as he returned 
 
 " Good morning, sir. " 
 
 " Nice fencer, ain't he ? " continued Mr. Popinjay, 
 as be patted his horse on the neck. 
 
 " Hope you won't want it by and by, sir. Ahem \ " 
 
 Of course I never said a word, and as this very 
 young man moved away, old George turned his head 
 to me and said, 
 
 "I beg your pardon, sir, who is that young 
 gentleman ? " 
 
 Why," said I, " I thought, from the way he spoke 
 to you, he must have been an old friend of yours." 
 
 "Never seed him afore in my life, sir." 
 
 " And," I could have added, " never wish to see him 
 again." I did hear afterwards who he was, but we 
 did not see much more of him with the Tedworth. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 55 
 
 I think it was the following season we had another 
 young gentleman, who thought a mufti kind of dress 
 would do with " those hounds," and though after a time 
 he honoured the Tedworth with the real scarlet, it 
 was in a kind of " cut-me-down " sort of way that he 
 came out at all. Now I have always maintained that, 
 however well a man may be mounted, or however well 
 he may go in general, it is only a point of discretion 
 in a strange country to ride to some leader, and not 
 think it necessary to take a line of your own till you 
 know something about what may be before you. 
 Puthall Gate is a good meet, and somehow or other, 
 if one can get away from Hens wood, it is generally a 
 good fox. Puthall Gate, or the cover about it, did 
 not belie itself on the morning in question, when old 
 George Carter and myself met the Tedworth there. 
 We got away at length for the forest, by Savernake 
 Ruins, and eventually to Durley, close to Caleb 
 Symonds's house, where the hounds threw up ; we 
 tried all round but could not make anything of it, 
 when a single hound marked the mouth of a drain 
 close to the turnpike road. There was our fox, sure 
 enough, and as we had had a pretty good run with 
 him, it seemed only right to bolt him, and let the 
 pack do the rest. The drain was opened, a " terrier 
 dawg," if I remember right, put in, and out came the 
 
56 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 fox, and, as it happened, almost through the hounds, 
 \vhich had been drawn a little off. How wonderful it 
 is, the way a fox can thread through hounds, and how 
 many hairbreadth escapes must he have for his life ! 
 But so it was on this occasion ; he did escape, and being 
 close to the park palings, he managed to slip through 
 a place where no hound could follow him. I fear Jack 
 Fricker did not bless him ; but the only thing to be 
 done was to get one or two pales down. One or two 
 hounds scrambled or were helped over but what a job 
 it is to get hounds through a small gap, when they 
 are all striving together and getting in one another's 
 way ! Well, there is allowance to be made for a 
 huntsman if he does speak a little French, or some 
 other foreign language, on such an occasion. But what 
 has all this got to do with the young gentleman who 
 honoured the Ted worth with his red coat ? I remem- 
 ber his being there when the fox was in the drain, 
 and when he was bolted ; he had gone very well with 
 the hounds across the forest from Puthall or Henswood, 
 and there had not been much to stop him, but his time 
 had not yet come. 
 
 Now all those who are acquainted with Durley 
 will remember that at the back of Caleb Symonds's 
 house are some small paddocks, with high deer 
 fencing all round, just outside the forest and towards 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 57 
 
 the top of Durley Hill. It was across one of these 
 paddocks that our fox had gone, and the hounds after 
 him, as soon as they could get through. The field had 
 only one option, and that was to go round to the 
 forest gate in the road, and then up the said road to 
 the top of the hill, and turn sharp to the right to get 
 to the hounds. There is, of course, a gate into these 
 paddocks from the forest, close to Symonds's house, and 
 our friend the young gentleman, seeing the gate open, 
 turned in, and began galloping across after the hounds. 
 I hallooed out to him, knowing him to be a stranger, 
 " You can't get out there, sir," and old George Carter 
 heard it. As we came along on the top of the hill, 
 and outside the paddock paling, there was our friend 
 riding about to find a place where he could get through, 
 as over was impossible ; and at last he had to retrace 
 his steps and go out by the same gate he went in at, 
 and then follow us round, and we were not long in 
 actually picking up our fox, already dead beat. 
 Whether he was dead before the grand young gentle- 
 man came up or not I won't say, but I do remember 
 his trying to hide his mortification, in not the choicest 
 language, as to " his luck," or some such thing, and 
 poor old George in his quiet way tried to explain to 
 him 
 
 "I beg your pardon, sir, but you see you did 
 
58 HOUND AND HOKN. 
 
 not know the country, and if you'd ha' onty come 
 
 back when Mr. called to ye, you'd ha' been 
 
 all right." 
 
 And then turning round to me as our friend rode 
 away " These young men will be young men, sir." 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 You ask if the old man was always so courteous in 
 his reproofs ? Well, I have known him speak out on 
 more occasions than one, but then he was only mortal. 
 I remember on one occasion, in the West Woods, one 
 of those " abominations," as I call them, being out, 
 viz. a nondescript kind of man, with a young cast- 
 off weed, not good enough to train for regular racing, 
 but which might possibly do something for a hunter's 
 stake, with no more qualification for a hunter about 
 him than a torn cat. Well, I believe these useless 
 animals are sent out "with hounds," that is, they appear 
 occasionally, when hounds are out, to qualify (?), and 
 after getting in everybody's way, and frequently 
 showing temper in a crowd, go home again as soon as 
 hounds begin to run, and are rarely seen after they 
 have killed their fox. I was coming down a narrow 
 lane with the old man, when the aforesaid groom tried 
 
60 HOUND AND HOEN ; 
 
 to pass by us, and as he did so his horse lashed out 
 and just missed the old man's leg. If ever I saw 
 wrath in any man's face in my life it was then, as 
 he shouted out 
 
 " Take him away! take your vicious brute away, I tell 
 ye ! go out into the middle of a field where there's 
 nobody else, but never come out a-hunting again ! 
 Oh ; dear, dear, dear, he might ha' broke my leg.'* 
 
 The latter was to myself. It was on another occa- 
 sion when, having had a long morning in the same 
 West Woods, we came away to try Clench Common, 
 and as we came in on the lower side of the Gorse we 
 met a very well known character, who lived some- 
 where about there, and who, I fear, bore not the best 
 possible name as regarded game or foxes ; at all events 
 he was no favourite with our old huntsman, and I 
 don't think he disguised his feelings, nor could have 
 said a good word for him if he had tried. Well, there 
 he stood, close, by the Gorse, and as we passed he 
 made the remark, " There was a brace o' foxes lying 
 about here yesterday." Well, it might have been 
 made to either of us or to any one else, but poor old 
 George turned round to me and said, quite loud enough 
 to be heard, " I wish, sir, 'twere the only thing 
 a-lying about here." 
 
 One more of these and I have done ; but we must 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 61 
 
 remember, as George Carter was a very upright man 
 himself, he could not stand anything that he thoroughly 
 disapproved of in any one else. There lived in the 
 Ted worth country the exact locus in quo is imma- 
 terial to this memoir a rather peculiar sort of 
 being that one meets with about once in a life- 
 time, and that once too often a man who ought to 
 have been a shining light in society, but who had 
 thoroughly thrown himself away. He had a great 
 taste for field sports, and knew a good deal about 
 hunting, as well as other matters, but from some reasons, 
 best known to himself, kept pretty much aloof from 
 his fellow creatures. Still, a man must occasionally 
 have some one to speak to, and the gentleman in 
 question, after a time, tried to become acquainted 
 with the retired huntsman ; but the old man quickly 
 found they were not cast in the same mould, and he 
 did not encourage any intimacy. I knew all about it. 
 as he opened his mind to me pretty freely on this as 
 well as other matters ; and one evening, on my paying 
 my usual visit to the old huntsman's parlour, I found 
 my "kennel" already occupied, and the new guest 
 sitting there, but I saw the old man was not altogether 
 happy in his mind. I made my visit short on some 
 pretence or other, and on meeting my old friend the 
 next day he instantly alluded to it, and said the 
 
62 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 fellow came down to him, and before he went away, 
 begged him to come up to his house sometimes, and 
 pass an hour with him of an evening. 
 
 " Well," I said, " Carter, go. It may do him good, 
 and can't do you any harm." 
 
 " No, no, no," rejoined the old man, " not I ; what I 
 said, sir, were this, ' I don't drink, I don't smoke, and I 
 don't tell no lies so I'm no use to you! " 
 
 I looked the old man in the face, and, trying not to 
 laugh, said, " Oh, I'm quite ashamed of you." 
 
 But it is well to keep the best story for the end, and 
 of all the remarks I ever heard from the old man's 
 lips the one I have now to record beats the lot. It 
 may involve a longish story, but to come at the pith of 
 it it is necessary to recount the various circumstances 
 which led up to it. 
 
 One morning, just before or after Christmas, I forget 
 which, but it was in mid-winter, the Tedworth hounds 
 met at Redenham or Weyhill, as it was on a Thursday, 
 and, as was always the case whenever I did go to any 
 of those distant meets, it involved an early start, so 
 that I could go quietly on, and get my horse put in 
 for an hour or so, and fed, before he came out for the 
 day's hunting. I could not indulge in cover hacks 
 and pad grooms, and perhaps enjoyed my sport all 
 the more. Before George Carter was out of bed on 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 63 
 
 this Thursday morning I was bobbing along quietly 
 across the down, towards the place where I hoped to 
 enjoy a day's sport, the old man never going so far 
 from home, and trusting to my giving him a full 
 account on my return. We had a long and not very 
 busy morning, and later in the day we got away into 
 Doles Wood and Pill Heath, a long way behind our 
 fox and not much prospect of catching him, when, to 
 add to our other misfortunes, it came on thick and 
 ended in a regular fog. 'Twas four o'clock, getting 
 nearly dark, when Mr. Raikes, better known as 
 "Uncle Fred," and as good a sportsman as ever sat 
 in a saddle, as he was acting as " master " for the 
 day, thought it best to get the hounds together and 
 go home. 
 
 Now Pill Heath and Doles Wood are almost un- 
 known lands to our side of the Tedworth country ; 
 as they are the very extremity of a kind of uninhabited 
 district, and very wide of Pewsey Vale, the first 
 thing to be done was to find out who was likely to be 
 going my way, and act as pilot till I got somewhere 
 nearer home. As good luck would have it, there were 
 two representatives of Pewsey Vale left, as well as 
 myself for about Christmas time nobody asks whether 
 meets are wide or not, so that we can get to hounds at 
 all. Then there were the two Captain Wellesleys (as 
 
64 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 they were then) out, and Conholt Park lay directly in 
 our way home. 
 
 Fog or no fog, we got on very well to Conholt ; and 
 a, bucket of gruel for the horses, and something besides 
 gruel for ourselves, sent us away a little after five o'clock 
 for our eleven-mile stretch across the down for South 
 Grove and Pewsey Vale. It was thick, and no mistake, 
 but somehow the horses knew their way, though the 
 pace was not much, and the night very dark. It was 
 long past seven o'clock when I found myself in the little 
 village of Milton, and at my own stable door ; and the 
 first thing I heard from my man in waiting was, that 
 Mr. Carter had been up several times to inquire if I 
 had come home, and that he seemed uneasy when he 
 found I had not cast up. 
 
 As I was leaving the stable and going up towards 
 the house I heard through the darkness " Ahem ! " 
 As the old man would say, " I knowed the note," and 
 calling out to him I told him I was all right, and if 
 he would come in with me to my room I would give 
 him five minutes, while I pulled my boots off, before 
 getting ready for dinner, just to let him know what 
 we had done ; and turning into the room as I was 
 speaking I found it already tenanted, as the lady of 
 the house was whiling away the time waiting for her 
 liege lord, in playing with their youngest child, a little 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 65 
 
 girl of about eighteen months old, and who ought to 
 have been in bed. The five minutes became ten, as 
 of course there were many things to tell, and questions 
 to be answered as well as asked, and while I was 
 telling the various events of the day; I saw signs, and 
 winks, and smiles passing between the old man and 
 the child in fact a regular flirtation and as I 
 knew he was very fond of children, and always 
 noticed mine when he met them in their walks, 
 I found out now this one was his especial 
 favourite. 
 
 Well, all things must come to an end, and at length ? 
 having told my budget of news and answered all the 
 inquiries as to who was out, what we had done, where 
 we found, checked, cast, &c., &c., and, of course, a full 
 explanation from the old huntsman ivhy the fox went 
 here, or did not go there, just as if he had seen it all, 
 I said, " Now, old friend, I want to get into some fresh 
 clothes, and then dinner, so I'll just open the door 
 for you," and suiting the action to the word I went 
 out and opened the hall door for him ; and then I 
 heard from the sitting-room 
 
 " Oh, yes, ma'am, a very nice child ; oh, a beautiful 
 little child. Yes, my dear, you are a very beautiful 
 little child. Well, good night, ma'am. Good night, 
 my dear." 
 
 F 
 
66 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 " Come along, old friend," I called out, " I want my 
 dinner." 
 
 " Coming, sir ; coming," he replied ; and as he 
 came out of the room into the hall I just caught 
 a smile on his face as he muttered to himself, 
 " Nice pup ; pity she wern't a hound." 
 
 "Bravo, old boy ! " I shouted ; " that's the best thing 
 you ever said." 
 
 " No, sir ; no, sir. I beg your pardon, sir. I didn't 
 mean nothing wrong, sir. I didn't mean it, sir." 
 
 " Mean," said I ; "I know what you meant, and you 
 couldn't have paid the little child a greater compliment 
 if you'd racked your brain till doomsday. Had it come 
 from any one else, I should have been angry ; but you 
 meant nothing wrong." 
 
 But I almost forgot one more story respecting my 
 old friend, and, as it is not a long one, here it is. 
 Our old clerk, who had held the office for years, at 
 length paid the debt of nature, and vacated the post. 
 Who was to take his place ? I looked round with my 
 mind's eye, and got puzzled. The Cumners had been 
 parish clerks in Milton for years, and " George " was 
 the last, as the family had died out. First I thought 
 of one, then another, till one evening, on sitting in the 
 old huntsman's parlour, I said, " I say, old friend, poor 
 old George Cumner is gone, who is to succeed him ? 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 67 
 
 Will you be clerk ? " The old man looked up, and, 
 after a moment, answered, 
 
 " Well, sir, now you know I would do most things 
 for you, but I can't be clerk, as I fear I might make a 
 mistake in church, and sometimes come out Who-whoop ! 
 when it ought to be Amen." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 Now it may very possibly be remarked by many of 
 those who may take the trouble to peruse these 
 memoirs, that there are many well known stories 
 respecting George Carter, which have appeared in print 
 from time to time, which are unrecorded here, and which 
 should have found a place in what professes to be the 
 Life and Recollections of the great huntsman. To these 
 critics an answer is ready. Doubtless many things 
 have been written from time to time, which have come 
 out in the papers and periodicals devoted to our field 
 sports, respecting the sayings and doings of George 
 Carter, but I fear that many of these are hardly to be 
 relied on ; not that I would cast any doubt on the 
 veracity of the authors, but these tales generally have 
 their foundation in " We all have heard the well-known 
 story," or something of that kind. Now, as I said I 
 would at starting, so have I kept myself most strictly 
 to old George Carter's own words. Every incident in 
 his life here recorded has come from his own lips; 
 there has been no attempt at varnish or dressing up ; 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 69 
 
 and as my old friend was most truthful in everything 
 which he uttered, it would have been an insult to his 
 memory to have inserted anything respecting him upon 
 merely hearsay evidence, or to have quoted as fad, 
 anything which he would not have endorsed. I myself 
 have heard from his own mouth every single incident 
 which I have now collected into a general whole, and 
 I have often admired the wonderful simplicity with 
 which he gave his own recollections; nor did any of 
 these vary in the most minute particular, though in 
 my frequent visits to his fireside I have heard them, 
 as he would express it, " times and times." 
 
 His memory was most retentive, and as a proof of 
 it, he told me on one occasion of his having gone with 
 his father and mother to Ludlow races in 1800, when 
 he was only eight years, old ; and he gave from memory 
 the names of the horses that ran, their owners, riders, 
 and colours ; and turning to a large bureau in his 
 sitting-room, where he kept all sorts of valuables, Loui 
 produced from a bundle of papers, which seemed to 
 have been lying dormant for the last century, a card of 
 the Ludlow races of that year, a copy of which I have, 
 and sure enough he was correct in every particular. It 
 is true there was only one race on each of the two days 
 and only three horses started in all, but the old man 
 was perfectly right in his account of everything, though 
 
70 HOUND AND HOKN ; 
 
 it happened eighty years back, and he himself at the 
 time I mention eighty-eight years old. The card itself 
 looks curious at the present day, so I will give a copy of 
 it, and here it is. 
 
 LUDLOW RACES, 1800. 
 
 On Wednesday > the 9th of July, will be run, in the Old Field, 
 A Maiden Plate of 50. 
 
 3-year olds to carry 6 st. ; 4-year olds, 7 st. 7 Ibs. ; 5-year 
 olds, 8 st. 6 Ibs. ; 6-year olds, 8st. 11 Ibs. ; and aged, 
 11 st. Mares and Geldings allowed 3 Ibs. 
 
 Twice round the Course, starting at the stand. 
 
 Mr. Day's Chestnut Colt, by Tamerlane, 3 years old, 6 st. 
 
 T. Knight. Yellow and black cap 2 2 
 
 Mr. Erasmus Saunders's Bay Colt, 3 years old, 6 st. Eider 
 
 in green 1 1 
 
 On Thursday, the 10th, 
 The Gentlemen's and Noblemen's Plate of 50, for all ages. 
 
 Mr. Bloss's Bay Horse Castoff, 5 years old, 6 st. 6 Ibs. 
 
 W. Bloss. Purple and white, and black cap 2 2 
 
 Mr. Day's Chestnut Colt, by Tamerlane, 3 years old, 6 st. 
 
 T. Knight. Yellow and black cap distanced 
 
 Mr. Erasmus Saunders's Bay Colt, 3 years old, 6 st. 3 Ibs. 
 
 Rider in green 11 
 
 Assemblies, Ordinaries, and Suppers as usual. 
 
 THEOPHILUS SALWAY, ESQ., Steward. 
 JOHN HICKMAN, Clerk. 
 
 ^ N. B. A Main of Cocks will be fought at the Castle Inn during 
 the Races. 
 
 POTTER & COLLIER, Feeders. 
 
 Felloe, Printer. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER, 71 
 
 There are few men who can recall the names of 
 hounds which have distinguished themselves in any 
 particular way in different countries and through a 
 number of years, but George Carter never forgot a 
 hound, and in many instances, as has been already 
 shown, could give his or her pedigree. Exactly in the 
 same way he had a wonderful recollection of runs, and 
 could recount the doings of his pack, even though it 
 were the Grafton, or Oakley, or previous to the date of 
 his having been with either, with the greatest accuracy 
 He was essentially a hound man, and though he some- 
 times mentioned some of the horses he had ridden, 
 and could give many particulars about them, he rarely 
 spoke of his own performances in the saddle, or of the 
 animals that had carried him. 
 
 Whenever anything appeared in public print in 
 reference to former times in which his name occurred, 
 and it was by no means an uncommon incident, I always 
 alluded to this in some way on my first visit to 
 him afterwards, and tried to draw him out ; and 
 if I failed in this, I read him the account itself, 
 and after he had listened most attentively to the 
 recital, his answer to my inquiry respecting it was 
 not unfrequently 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, 'tis nothing but a lie ; people 
 must live somehow, and some does it by writing, and 
 
72 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 perhaps they believe it's true, but 'taint, or I should 
 have remembered it." 
 
 But let it not be supposed if he occasionally came 
 out with a strong expression as huntsmen and many 
 others besides them occasionally may that George 
 Carter was rough in his manner ; far from it, he was 
 a very well educated man, though possibly some might 
 say, " How could that be, when, according to his own 
 account, he had had very small school advantages, and 
 ran away from home and school at nine years of age ? " 
 Whatever may be the advantages of book learning, and 
 doubtless in many instances they are great, some people 
 forget that real education begins when school days are 
 over, and the boy first grows into a man and takes 
 his lesson in the great battle of life. It may be true 
 that a government inspector would have found fault 
 .with some of the old huntsman's phraseology, and 
 detected many grammatical errors. This is mere red- 
 tapism. No one would have been an hour in company 
 with him without finding out that he was talking to 
 an educated man, and not a clown. His way of ex- 
 pressing himself his freedom from slang phrases and 
 his impressive manner, showed at once, not only that 
 he was a man of education, but of refined taste. 
 
 He was very fond of quoting from various authors, 
 but the one in which he delighted most was Somer- 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEOEGE CAETER. 73 
 
 ville, and every now and then, when speaking on some 
 point in hunting, he would break out with " Shrill horn 
 proclaims his flight," or something of the same kind, 
 and then he would recite some twelve or twenty lines, 
 exquisitely rendered, while his eye would sparkle, and 
 his whole body gradually move in his chair as if he were 
 once more in the saddle, and one felt on listening to him, 
 to apply his own words, " Oh ! it were very beautiful/' 
 He may not have had much schooling in his youth, 
 but twelve years with the Duke of Grafton, and twenty - 
 three with the Tedworth, had left their mark, and 
 it was doubtless from the class of men that were the 
 constant guests of his Grace, or the Squire, and with 
 whom the old huntsman was associated, that he took 
 his tone. 
 
 His general habits of life after his retirement were 
 very simple ; he amused himself about home, occasion- 
 ally keeping a few sheep and a cow or two, rarely going 
 further than he could walk, except when he came out 
 " a-hunting," and caring very little for society ; and 
 perhaps his character could hardly have been better 
 told than in his own words, " I don't drink, nor smoke, 
 nor tell lies." Still, he liked to see some of his old 
 friends as they passed his house iu going or coming back 
 from hunting ; and I believe he thoroughly appreciated 
 niy regular visit of an evening to his fireside. 
 
74 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 During the whole time of his residence in Milton he 
 never but once, up to a certain date, had anything like 
 illness that was of a serious character ; and I much 
 feared that at eighty years of age I was about to see 
 the last of my old friend. I remember well paying 
 him, as I supposed, my last visit, and, on taking leave 
 of him, the old man reared himself up, though seeming 
 in the last stage of weakness, and the old fire seemed 
 to flash for a moment from his eyes as he said> 
 
 "Good-bye, sir; good-bye; God bless you. I hope 
 you will live long to enjoy your fox hunting." 
 
 I little thought to have seen him out again, but T 
 did. The news of his- illness quickly got about, and 
 he was actually killed by one of the sporting papers of 
 the day ; but then, as the old man used to say, " some 
 people must live by writing, and if they are not mighty 
 particular as to the correctness of their information, 
 they can put it all right the following week and think 
 no more about it." I know I corrected the error in the 
 paper above mentioned, and thankful enough I was at 
 being able to do so. 
 
 In a general way he enjoyed wonderful health, but 
 he was very careful of himself, and most abstemious, 
 and I don't think anything would have induced him 
 to have infringed on the rules of sobriety either in 
 his own house or elsewhere. He told me that once 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 75 
 
 during his career he had kept a public house, and that 
 was while he was living with Mr. Grantley Berkeley, 
 but he soon got out of that, as he said he had too many 
 friends coming in to see him of an evening, and they 
 all wanted to treat him, and that " drinking and hunting 
 were two men's business." 
 
CHAPTER XT. 
 
 Now, from what has been said of my old friend, it 
 may naturally be inferred that his was what is called a 
 " green old age." The only indication of age about him 
 was that, about the year 1878, he began to get a little 
 dim in one eye, and from that time his sight failed ; but 
 so inscrutable are the ways of Providence, that what 
 might have been looked upon as a terrible calamity, 
 turned out quite the contrary in the end. However 
 much one may have appreciated Mr. George Carter in 
 his public character, it must be remembered that he 
 was, after all, but mortal, and like all other human 
 beings, not without his faults. He was subject to 
 occasional, outbreaks of temper, and was not a little 
 imperious in his own house ; and it was pretty generally 
 supposed that "the nice, tidy 'ooman" who called 
 him husband, and his children, had now and then 
 rather a lively time of it, if they did not turn to the 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 77 
 
 old huntsman's " Hallo ! " quite as quick as he might 
 have supposed they should have done. Nor did this 
 seem to decrease with age. But a marked change came 
 over the old man as his eyesight began to fail; and 
 though perfectly sensible of the deprivation he suffered, 
 he softened down wonderfully in manner, while he con- 
 stantly expressed how thankful he felt for the general 
 good health he enjoyed, and the many blessings that 
 fell to his lot. It was, as his sight began to fail, that 
 he gave up hunting, as he said he was afraid to ride 
 when he could not see well where he was going. But 
 in this particular he beat his late master, Mr. Assheton 
 Smith; for if George Carter did not hunt hounds at 
 fourscore, he nevertheless enjoyed his hunting long 
 after that period of his life, and his seat in the 
 saddle had lost nothing of its ease, his voice was 
 still cheery and musical, and as to his knowledge of 
 the science of hunting, he had lost nothing of it from 
 the effects of age. I well remember the day on which 
 he entered, on his, I believe, eighty-third year. The 
 Tedworth hounds were drawing the gorse on Clench 
 Common, and it had soon become known that it was 
 George Carter's birthday ; the greetings from all sides 
 were of course most hearty, and, as might naturally 
 have been expected, the old man was in wonderful 
 good spirits. Foxes were plentiful enough on the 
 
78 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 Common on that day ; but as to scent, there was little 
 
 or none. I believe foxes know pretty well when they 
 
 can be hunted or otherwise, and on the morning in 
 
 question they kept creeping about in the thick of the 
 
 gorse, giving the pack no end of trouble, but refusing 
 
 to quit it. Jack Fricker did all he could, but however 
 
 good the huntsman may be, or however much he may 
 
 try to do his best, there are circumstances when all his 
 
 energy may be in vain. I had observed my old friend 
 
 go quietly away to a ride towards the outside quarter of 
 
 the covert, and there he sat as mute as a mouse ; but 
 
 I knew he meant business, and, as I watched him, 
 
 I fancied his wished-for moment had arrived. There 
 
 was a kind of excitement about him, though he uttered 
 
 not a sound, as some of the leading hounds forced 
 
 their way through the gorse to the point where he 
 
 was sitting on his horse ; now and then one throwing 
 
 tongue ; as they could just feel the scent ; as they came 
 
 up to him. I saw a white head, and the old man, cap in 
 
 hand, cheered them over the ride. He had viewed the 
 
 fox across, lut he knew better than to halloo ! Oh ! if 
 
 every one would but think of this ! He knew the 
 
 covert was not so thick towards the outside ; and he let 
 
 the pack come up to him without getting their heads 
 
 up. There was a crash as the Tedworth big pack got 
 
 up pretty close to their fox, and had room to move. 
 
KECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 79 
 
 The old huntsman " caught hold" of them once more, 
 and it was short work afterwards ; for, as the fox would 
 not go, even then, but tried to get back again, he was 
 caught by some of the tail hounds as he doubled, and 
 literally died under George Carter's nose. 
 
 Well do I remember it ; and doubtless there are 
 many left who will recollect the circumstance, and 
 some one, never mind who, shouting out, as the old 
 man cheered the pack on, " That's a sight for you ! 
 what do you think of my ~boy now ? " As the old man 
 would have expressed it, had it been of any one but 
 himself, " Oh ! it were very beautiful." 
 
 But let it not be supposed that the old huntsman 
 ever interfered in any way ; when he happened to be 
 out ; with the duties of Jack Fricker, who was carrying 
 the horn. He was naturally too well-bred for that, and 
 he knew the responsibilities which attached to the one 
 who was hunting the pack. It is possible that on 
 various occasions he might have "down otherwise" 
 than Jack Fricker did, had he still been in office; 
 but he never ventured an opinion, or put himself 
 forward, as many a would-be knowing prig might have 
 done ; but he was always ready to assist his old pupil, 
 if he could ; and we all know that sometimes to 
 "Halloo 'em on" is not thought to be wrong by the 
 present huntsman of the Tedworth. Hunting with 
 
80 HOUND AND HORN. 
 
 the old man was literally a science, and required a deal 
 of study. It was not a thing of the moment, and to be 
 forgotten as soon as the excitement of the run was over. 
 And I have frequently heard him say, in my evening 
 sittings with him by his fireside, and in going over 
 what to many would have been the "long-forgotten 
 past," " Oh ! times and times I've seen, arter I've been 
 a-bed, where I lost a fox." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 IT was not, I fancy, with a very good grace that 
 George Carter first came into Hampshire, as it was a 
 style of country to which he had never been accus- 
 tomed, and the terribly steep hills, and big flints, 
 especially about Fosbury, Ham Ashley, Coombe, &c., 
 rather staggered him; for if it was bad for horses, 
 what must it have been for hounds ? True it was that 
 Mr. Assheton Smith generally had this side of the 
 country to himself ; but there were occasions when the 
 Squire could not go out himself, and then George 
 Carter carried the horn. Soon after his corning to 
 Tedworth he was out, in place of Mr. Smith, in the 
 Faccombe country, and on his going up to the house 
 in the evening, as he regularly did, to report progress 
 or receive orders for the following day, Mr. Smith asked 
 him why he had not killed his fox sooner, as it had 
 been a long run. 
 
 G 
 
82 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 " Well, sir," said the old man and I believe I quote 
 pretty much his own words "if I had been in a 
 hunting country I could have killed him in an 
 hour." 
 
 " Hunting country ! " exclaimed the Squire. " What 
 the something do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " Well, sir," answered George Carter, " I beg your 
 pardon, but where I come from, the servant-girls did 
 used to ~buy flints to strike a light with the tinder-box " 
 (please, kind reader, to remember this was before the 
 day of lucifer-matches), " and where I were to-day they 
 were rolling about on the hillside as big as your head, 
 and we couldn't go very fast over them." 
 
 But there was a still worse evil which he had to 
 contend with at home, when he first came into Hamp- 
 shire, and that was kennel lameness. 
 
 The kennels at Tedworth, in Dick Burton's time and 
 when Carter first succeeded him, were on the top of 
 the hill, where the dairy now stands, and without 
 imputing any blame to the former huntsman, there 
 was hardly a hound that was free from this terrible 
 scourge. It was decided by Mr. Smith to move the 
 pack to some other locality, and new kennels were 
 built where they now stand. But George Carter had 
 a head on his shoulders, and had come to the conclusion 
 that kennel lameness was caused by rheumatism, or 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 83 
 
 some complaint of a similar character, and he got 
 Mr. Smith's consent to superintend the laying of the 
 floors in general. The ground was all excavated, under 
 his orders, to the depth of about twenty inches or two 
 feet, and this was filled in with blacksmiths' cinders or 
 clinkers, brickbats, or any other rubbish of a similar 
 character, and then the flags were laid atop of all. 
 Now if any one were to ask the result, let them inquire 
 of Jack Fricker if they ever suffer from kennel lame- 
 ness now, and I believe he would say it is a complaint 
 unknown in the kennel. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 BUT if Carter did not altogether relish Hampshire 
 at first and possibly Mr. Smith's ways and his own did 
 not always agree he was very just both as regarded the 
 sport to be had in the Tedworth country, and the good 
 points in the old Squire's character. He has often 
 remarked to myself, " There, sir, Mr. Smith was a very 
 odd man, but then he did a deal o' good. Why, just 
 look at the number of horses he kept, and what he paid 
 to the farmers for corn and hay and straw ; and then 
 we always had a hundred couples of hounds of one 
 sort and another, and see what they cost to keep, and 
 all money to be spent in the country. And then the 
 number of hands he employed about the stables and 
 kennels and gardens. Why, sir, he kept all the people 
 in Tedworth in some way or another, and all through 
 the winter there were large coppers full of soup for the 
 poor twice a week, and clothing, and blankets. Oh, he 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 85 
 
 had a deal o' money, and he spent it at home ; and he 
 was very good, and I fear he will be missed mighty 
 much." 
 
 But Carter's especial favourite was the Duke of 
 Grafton, and he always spoke of his Grace with the 
 greatest reverence, and his heart was in Whittlebury 
 Forest. " Oh, dear, dear me ! how I should like you to 
 see Whittlebury Forest ! There, 'tis a beautiful place ; for 
 you see, sir, the kennels were in the Forest, and I lived 
 there, and you could take the young hounds out for 
 exercise close home, and there were no stray cur dogs 
 about as may have the mange or anything else, and no 
 strangers nor idle people burn 'em and 'twere all nice 
 and quiet, and the deer used to come up and feed quite 
 handy, and the hounds soon got used to them, and 
 never took no notice ; and there, I tfould sit out at my 
 door of an evening in the summer and hear the foxes 
 bark, and the owls hoot, and the deer blant ; and some- 
 times of a night, when 'twere all still as still, I could 
 hear a hound just throw his tongue in his sleep, 
 a-dreaming, I suppose, sir, as he were a-hunting 
 a fox. Oh, it were beautiful ! Oh, Whittlebury 
 Forest were a nice place, and I should like you to 
 see it." 
 
 It was in October, 1880, that George Carter seemed 
 to break very suddenly, and he fancied his end was 
 
86 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 drawing near; but he never repined, though he had 
 sleepless nights and weary days, as the being confined 
 to his bedroom was not what he had been accustomed 
 to. Still he looked to the bright side of things, and 
 constantly expressed his thankfulness for all the 
 comforts he had enjoyed through life, and even then 
 in his decline. His mental faculties were all perfect, 
 and his memory wonderful as ever. He was still 
 anxious to know of the doings of the Tedworth, at that 
 time kennelled in Marlborough Forest for cub- hunting ; 
 and on my speaking one evening about Jack Flicker, 
 and his having got his hounds together on the line of 
 a fox he had been hunting, where there were two or 
 three fresh foxes afoot, and the pack divided, the old 
 man looked up : " Well, sir, there's nothing like 
 knowing the note, and what hounds you can trust. 
 Why, I think I've told you, there were a bitch I had 
 once called ' Salvage/ and we were in Doles Wood, and 
 plenty of foxes there; 'twere early in the season, and 
 the hounds got arter one and another all over the place. 
 Well, I stood still and listened till I heard Salvage, and 
 I know'd her tongue, and she were always right, and 
 she were hunting round towards me, and all of a sudden 
 she stopped. I galloped up to near where I heard that 
 bitch last, and I jumped off my horse, and just hitched 
 him up, when up comes Colonel Lascelles. ' Hullo ! ' 
 
EECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 87 
 
 says he, ' George, what's the matter ? ' ' Matter, sir ! ' 
 says I; 'why, I'm just going to bring out that fox.' 
 ' Why/ says Colonel Lascelles, ' they haven't killed, 
 have they ? ' ' Salvage tells me, sir,' says I, ' she has, 
 and I shall find him.' Well, sir, I forced my way 
 through the wood, and presently I saw one hound come 
 out with some blood about him, and then another, and 
 so on ; and as soon as they see me coming they went 
 back, and sure enough, in some brambles, there were 
 the fox dead enough and the hounds tearing him ; and 
 there were Salvage, and the other hounds know'd her 
 cry, I believe, as well as I did. Oh, she were a 
 beautiful bitch ! And I remember Colonel Lascelles 
 saying, when I came out with the fox, * Well, George, 
 I could hardly have believed it;' but there you see, 
 sir, I know'd." 
 
 Of course his expressions were pretty much con- 
 nected with his former life, but on my inquiring one 
 evening if he had suffered much pain during the day, 
 as he had some rheumatic affection about him, he said, 
 " Well, sir, the doctor says I have sci-sci-tica, or some 
 such thing." 
 
 " Sciatica you mean, old friend," I observed. 
 
 " That's it, sir," said he. " Burn the long words ! 
 But it's shifted a bit now out of my hips and got more 
 about my body ; but there, I hope 'tis for the best. Get 
 
88 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 him off the foil'd ground, and then we may catch him 
 and kill him." 
 
 Another wonderful proof of the retentive powers of 
 memory in the old huntsman, particularly as regarded 
 hounds, may be given in the following incident, which 
 occurred within the last few years of his life. 
 
 Sir Claude de Crespigny had resided at Durrington 
 Manor House for some few seasons, and while there 
 had hunted regularly with the Tedworth hounds. Some 
 time after he had left I received a letter, asking me if 
 I could find out from old George Carter anything 
 respecting a certain hound which was in the Duke of 
 Grafton's pack at the time he was acting as his Grace's 
 huntsman, and might possibly have come with him to 
 Tedworth. Sir Claude was, I believe, tracing out some 
 pedigrees ; at all events he wanted to know how the 
 hound in question was bred. I took an early oppor- 
 tunity of mentioning this to my old friend, and he said 
 at once 
 
 " Remember him ? Yes, of course I do ; he were a 
 very good hound, and came with me from the Duke 
 of Grafton to Mr. Smith's." 
 
 " Can you tell me, old friend," I continued, " how he 
 was bred ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied the huntsman, " he were by 
 
 out of " (I* forget the exact names) ; and 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 89 
 
 calling to his daughter he told her to look in 
 his bureau, where he kept his old papers, &c., 
 and see if she could find a hound list of " the 
 Grafton " of such and such a year. The search proved 
 successful, and as the old man was at that time 
 getting blind, he told the girl to hand it to me, as I 
 could see better than he could ; and on looking through 
 the list, sure enough the old man's memory had not 
 deceived him, there stood the name, and the pedigree 
 was correct. 
 
 One more anecdote as to his retentive powers of 
 memory and I have done. 
 
 It was in the last year of his life when I was on one 
 occasion sitting with my old friend, and the conversa- 
 tion had turned on the present abominable practice of 
 hallooing a fox as soon as one catches eye of him, with- 
 out once considering whether it may be the hunted fox 
 or not. The old man gave his opinion pretty freely 
 respecting this common error, as to its making hounds 
 wild, getting their heads up, or probably indifferent to 
 a timely halloo at the right moment, when it may be 
 really useful to the huntsman ; and then he came out, 
 as he frequently did when some chance observation led 
 up to something of former times, with : " Well, sir, 
 now I remember once being out with Mr. Farquharson 
 for I liked occasionally to get a day with another pack 
 
90 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 when some gentleman would kindly find me a horse ; 
 and so I had been out with Mr. Farquharson's hounds, 
 for I know'd Treadwell well, and Treadwell know'd me ; 
 and we had a pretty good day. Well, sir, we had been 
 running a fox in the afternoon for some time maybe 
 an hour or more and the scent were getting worse and 
 worse as the ground got foiled, till at last we couldn't 
 hunt him at all ; and as I had a long way to get back 
 to Tedworth, and had to take my horse back and get 
 on the one I had ridden down (for of course I hacked 
 one down), I came away, and they were going to give 
 it up and go home ; so I wished Treadwell ' Good-night ' 
 and away I came. Well, sir, as I were a coming along 
 a ride through a wood, somehow I can't tell why 
 I looked back over my shoulder, and, behold ! I see 
 a fox, as I fancied, a following o' me. He were some 
 way off, to be sure, but I know'd it were a fox. Well, 
 sir, ould Carter never halloed he know'd too well for 
 that but just turned himself quietly round, and, sure 
 enough, there were a fox coming along the ride ; but as 
 I stood perfectly still, and he never seed me, he corned 
 quietly along, and pretty tired he were, by his going, 
 till at last he turned off into the wood ; but I marked 
 the spot, and then, after he were gone, I rode quietly 
 back, and just broke down a twig, and then I trotted 
 back to where I had left the hounds, and soon I see 
 
KECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 91 
 
 one of the whips, and then I never halloed, but held 
 up my cap and waved it about, and he soon see it, 
 and went back to Treadwell, and told him, I suppose, 
 that ould Carter were making signs. Well, Treadwell 
 know'd then I had seen the fox, and on 'he corned with 
 all the hounds he could get together, and we went 
 back to where the twig were broken down, and in they 
 went, and very soon brought him out, for he couldn't 
 go far, and so we killed him. Now, sir, if any of those 
 gentlemen you speak of had seen that fox, they would 
 a been tally-hoing, and hallooing, and done more harm 
 than good, and never would have killed a fox at all. 
 Oh, dear me, I do like a quiet sportsman." 
 
 Now this was, I believe, the true version of the story 
 as it was told to me, for, as usual, I wrote down the 
 leading points of it immediately on my return home, and 
 it came from a man in his ninety-second year respect- 
 ing an occurrence of some thirty-five or forty years 
 back ; and I have no doubt he saw, in his mind's eye, 
 everything connected with it as clearly as when he 
 was sitting on his horse and watching the fox coming 
 along the ride. 
 
 But if his memory was good, his other faculties 
 seemed to quicken as his sight gradually declined. 
 He had been totally blind for some ,few years, though 
 it was not at first apparent to a stranger, as his eye 
 
92 HOUND AND HOEN ; 
 
 was full, and lit up with its old fire when anything 
 pleased him, or he became a little excited. Two 
 evidences of this may suffice to prove the truth of 
 the assertion. 
 
 It was in 1883 that I was walking a Tedworth bitch 
 called " Matchless/' and after she had got fairly handy, 
 and knew her way about, she pretty soon found her 
 way down to old Carter's house, as well as about the 
 village in general, as all the Milton people of every 
 class, especially the boys and girls, respect a hound, 
 and seem to consider him or her their own property. 
 The consequence is that puppies soon know where 
 bones and scraps are to be picked up ; and as the old 
 huntsman's two daughters had much of their father's 
 nature about them, they pretty frequently received a 
 visit from Matchless. One afternoon, as the old man 
 was sitting in his room up stairs, he heard a hound 
 baying under his window, and, calling to his daughter, 
 he asked what hound that was in the garden ? Alice, 
 I believe it was, for I was not present but she won't 
 mind my telling it, as she was a rare good girl for 
 a hound looked out of the window and replied, 
 
 " Oh, 'tis Matchless, father, Mr. G 's puppy." " I 
 
 tell you 'tis a doghound? rejoined the old man, "for 
 / know the note" Nor was he wrong. Within a mile 
 of my house " Monitor," the brother of Matchless, was 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 93 
 
 at walk, and, as I always knew every puppy in the 
 neighbourhood, Monitor was frequently with me, or 
 rather with Matchless. On my return home I found 
 he had paid an afternoon call to his playmate, 
 and, not finding her, without leaving a card, had 
 gone down the street, and, as was not unusual, looked 
 in at the old huntsman's. In colour, shape, and size, 
 the two were exactly alike, so that it was no discredit 
 to Alice, in looking down from an upstair window, to 
 mistake the one for the other. 
 
 It was in the summer of 1884, and within a few 
 months of the old man's death, I received a visit from 
 Colonel Charles Knatchbull, who was staying in the 
 neighbourhood. Now of all the men of former years 
 that George Carter worshipped, Mr. Knatchbull, of 
 Cholderton Lodge, was the chief ; and in speaking of 
 him, as he frequently did, in our many happy hours 
 together, the old man usually wound up with " Oh, 
 Mr. Knatchbull were a nice quiet man, and a very 
 good sportsman." 
 
 During the time of Carter's acting as huntsman at 
 Tedworth, Mr. Knatchbull's sons were boys, and as such 
 came out hunting with their father, but were brought 
 up to be " nice and quiet," like their sire. They were 
 not allowed to cock-a-hoop about, and ride anywhere, 
 like some I have seen since, who may fancy themselves 
 
94 HOUND AND HOEN ; 
 
 "knowing.'* George Carter then knew them as boys, 
 but nothing more. But time works its changes ; boys 
 become men ; some go away here, some there, to their 
 farms or merchandise, or what not, and some into 
 Her Majesty's service. These last, perhaps, visit the 
 paternal roof-tree less frequently than others, for many 
 reasons ; and it happened that Mr. Charles Knatchbull 
 donned the red coat and epaulettes, as they were then 
 worn, and passed some years of his life on distant 
 stations. He therefore saw but little of the old hunts- 
 man, and upon his retiring from the service the old 
 man had gone into private life. In due course of time 
 Mr. Knatchbull left Cholderton Lodge for the happy 
 hunting grounds. 
 
 It was not, then, till the boy of former years had 
 grown into a man and a colonel" in Her Majesty's 
 service, that he once more came to reside in Wiltshire. 
 But if the father had passed away, he had left a proto- 
 type of himself in his son, especially in voice, which 
 was deep and sonorous. It was, then, while he happened 
 to be at my house one afternoon in 1884, that he ex- 
 pressed a wish to pay a visit to the old huntsman : and 
 together we went. He was aware of the old man's 
 blindness, so it was agreed that he was not to give 
 any name, nor say who the visitor was. On going 
 up stairs into his room, I gave him my usual greeting, 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEOKGE CARTER. 95 
 
 and added, " Now, old friend, here is some one to call 
 upon you that you have not seen for many a long day ; 
 tell me who it is?" The colonel came forward, and 
 taking him by the hand, said, " Well, Carter, how are 
 you ? " The old man started almost out of the chair, 
 and while his sightless eyes seemed to gleam as if he 
 saw everything, " Why ! 'tis Mr. Knatchbull ; I know'd 
 the note." " Well," said I, " old friend, 'tain't the Mr. 
 Knatchbull you mean ; but you may well fancy that 
 in the one before you his father has risen from the 
 dead." Time had not dealt treacherously with his 
 memory, nor dulled his hearing. 
 
 How many more little anecdotes in the life of my 
 old friend could I recount ? Possibly very many ; but 
 there must be an end to all things, and so there must 
 to these recollections. Still it may be allowable to 
 trouble the patience of the reader with just one more 
 to show the love which the old man retained for the 
 sport to which he had devoted a lifetime. It was on 
 the 5th April, 1884, that the Ted worth hounds met for 
 the last time, to finish the season, and the meet was 
 " Puthall Gate." We had a very good hunting day, and 
 killed the last fox handsomely ; and in the evening, on 
 my return, of course I found myself in the old hunts- 
 man's room to give him all particulars. We had had 
 one hour and twenty minutes with our first fox, chiefly 
 
06 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 forest hunting, and at the last moment lost him un- 
 accountably, as will be the case late in the season, and 
 amongst; the fern. The second gave us one hour and 
 twelve minutes, and getting him away, we rattled him 
 over the open, till, ringing back, he pointed for Hens- 
 wood, a large woodland lying not far away from the 
 forest. Hounds were getting beat, as it was hot, 
 horses had had enough, and our gallant fox tried 
 his utmost. It was from scent to view, and still he 
 struggled on to within about twenty yards of the 
 covert, when his ]ast efforts were exhausted, and 
 down he sank never to rise again. Who -who op to 
 our fox, and also to the season ! Now, was it not 
 allowable to go over this run, point to point, or yard 
 by yard, in my description of it to one who had been 
 far away, but who seemed, while seated in his arm- 
 chair, to have everything before him ? " Get on, sir, get 
 on," every now and then broke in the old man, " I see it 
 all ; don't dwell on a scent." And when we came to the 
 kill, there came such a ringing " Who-whoop," as one 
 may never hear again. And then there came, " Here, 
 Loui ! Alice ! burn the girls, where are they ? " " Oh," 
 said I, " perhaps they are gone up into the garden for 
 a mouthful of fresh air : what can I get you ? " " Never 
 mind, sir," said the old man, " they will come ; " and 
 sure enough at the moment Loui or Alice never mind 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 97 
 
 which, for they both waited well on their father 
 appeared, with "Did you call, father?" "Call!" 
 rejoined the old man, " of course I did ; here, you 
 go down stairs and bring up one o' those bottles that's 
 in the cupboard in my room." " Port wine, father ? " 
 asked the handmaiden. " No, no, no ! " said the old 
 man, " not port wine, I had my glass o' port wine after 
 dinner; one o' those long bottles that Mr. So-and-so 
 sent me, you know." " Oh ! " said the girl, " cham- 
 pagne ?" "Yes," rejoined the old man, "that's the 
 stuff burn the long words ; 'tis the last day o' 
 
 hunting, and Mr. G and me is a going to drink 
 
 the toast." "Now, old friend," I broke in, "don't 
 go opening a bottle of champagne for me. You forget 
 I have not had my dinner yet, and we can't drink a 
 bottle of champagne now ; have a glass of port wine." 
 The old huntsman's face grew stern, and looking 
 earnestly towards me, as if he saw me, came out, 
 " I beg your pardon, sir, but / am hunting the hounds 
 now. What's the use of your friends sending cham- 
 pagne if you ain't to drink it? You'll be pleased to 
 sit still, and we will have a bottle on this the last day 
 of the season ; and I hope it won't be the last with 
 you, by a good many. / sha'n't never go a hunting no 
 more, but we will drink 'Fox hunting/ blest if we 
 don't." The champagne was opened, a part of.it 
 
 H 
 
98 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 drunk, and the toast duly honoured. The old man 
 had his one glass, and I was obliged to practise a 
 deception on him as to the rest; for seeing an empty 
 bottle standing on a table behind me, after a while 
 I got hold of it, and letting him feel that it was what 
 is termed, I believe, " a dead man," I took the one from 
 which the two glasses were gone, down stairs for the 
 girls, and left it for them to finish at their leisure, 
 under the promise they would not betray me. 
 
 I believe I have stated that upon his birthday the 
 old huntsman always appeared in his red coat. It was 
 on his completing his ninety-first year, that he wore it for 
 the last time ; though I have still something to tell 
 respecting its last appearance, for we shall see it no 
 more. Perhaps I can hardly do better than give the 
 paragraph relating to it, which appeared in the County 
 G-entleman, of December 8th, of that year : "On 
 Thursday, November 29th, old George Carter, the 
 veteran huntsman, completed his ninety-first year, and, 
 as usual on his birthday, came out once more in the 
 red coat and white waistcoat at dinner, which he 
 said he could still enjoy. In the evening the toast 
 ' Fox hunting/ was given, and ' we have accounted 
 for the ninety-first fox, old friend, and with God's 
 blessing we will handle the ninety-second this day 
 twelvemonth;' and then came in reply, 'Very good,. 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CARTER. 99 
 
 sir, very good. ' Fox hunting ! and there ain't nothing 
 like it, or I shouldn't be here.' Blessed as the old man 
 is with health and vigour, and with every faculty but 
 one sight may the toast have its accomplishment." 
 
 It never did. It is not an uncommon wish with 
 man for long life : it may possibly be too long. There 
 are evil days in which he may find " there is no pleasure 
 in them," and though there is, doubtless, frequently 
 good to be derived from these evil days, and the Great 
 Disposer of all things knows the times and seasons 
 far better than His weak and erring creatures, who too 
 generally are blind to His mercies, still, it is but human 
 nature to fret under discomfort, and so rebel against a 
 Power that ruleth all things. 
 
 The last few years of the old huntsman's life were 
 not cheery. Blind, and much alone, confined to his 
 chair, and eventually to his bedroom, as he had a 
 difficulty in getting up and down stairs, he might be 
 justified in the remark he often made, that it was 
 the hardest work he had ever done in his life. He 
 had, too, several severe attacks of illness towards the 
 last, which threatened to bring him to his end, but his 
 iron frame withstood them all; he still enjoyed his 
 chats and frequent visits from myself, and one or two 
 others who occasionally looked in on him; and his 
 love for hunting was as keen as ever. He wanted 
 
100 HOUND AND HORN ; 
 
 to know during the season what hounds were doing, and 
 the events of each day, when they could be given him : 
 but with all this he did not forget other things, and 
 frequently spoke with gratitude of the blessings he 
 enjoyed, and of the wonderful way his life had been 
 prolonged. He was not a thoughtless or a hardened 
 man far from it but in his own unsophisticated way 
 was preparing for that great change which he felt must 
 soon come upon him. 
 
 I am not going to divulge what took place between 
 my dear old friend and myself in the sanctity of his 
 chamber ; but this I say with truth and firm belief, that 
 George Carter was an honest, upright, God-fearing man, 
 during the time I knew most of him, and that was to- 
 wards the latter end of his life ; and if it may be said 
 by any who knew him in his prime should any such be 
 left that he was hasty or passionate in the field or else- 
 where, I would only ask, " What are you ? What am 
 I ? And which of us is so faultless as to take up the 
 stone ? " 
 
 Towards the last few days which remained to the old 
 man on earth, a visible change took place in him. 
 There was no sign of illness, but still he seemed 
 to know his end was at hand, and he was prepared 
 for it. His mental faculties were clear, and his voice 
 strong, till he rambled away into scenes, probably of 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF GEORGE CAETER. 101 
 
 former years, and then gradually subsided into a calm, 
 the precursor of death. 
 
 On the night of November 21st he passed away. 
 It hardly seemed death, but a simple stepping across 
 the boundary between time and eternity. He had 
 not quite reached his ninety-second birthday, but was 
 within view of it. Seven days more (for it was 
 'twixt night and morning that he died) would have 
 entitled him to another figure on his coffin lid; but 
 it was not to be. 
 
 His funeral, which took place in Milton church- 
 yard on the Wednesday following, was attended by 
 many from a distance, as well as by those who had 
 lived around him. 
 
 The old red coat and hunting cap did duty . for 
 the last time, as they lay upon the pall ; and when 
 the form of the old huntsman descended to its last 
 resting-place, the livery of the chase went with him. 
 He had never disgraced them in life, and they were 
 no disgrace to him now. There let them lie; and 
 when Hound and Horn shall be no more, may the 
 old huntsman be found ready. 
 
 Somehow, as if by common consent, one by one, men 
 dropped into a dining-room not far from where they 
 had seen their old friend to ground : a table was laid for 
 any who might wish to refresh the inner man before 
 
102 HOUND AND HORN. 
 
 hurrying away again. There was not much said, but it 
 seemed like the last meet of the season ; and then, one 
 by one the glasses were filled and remained untouched, 
 till a deep and sonorous voice gave out, " Fox hunting ! 
 To the memory of the grandest man that ever stood 
 upon the flags, or carried a horn at his saddle-bow 
 
 GEORGE CARTER." 
 
 A plain, but very handsome and massive stone of 
 pure blue pennant will mark the spot in Milton 
 churchyard where the old huntsman lies at rest, and 
 show to generations to come how a man who faithfully 
 discharges the duties of his calling in life is not for- 
 gotten in death. The list of contributors to this 
 memorial shall speak for itself. The inscription is 
 as follows : 
 
tfit JHnnorg 
 
 GEORGE CARTER, 
 
 i THE GREAT HUNTSMAN, 
 
 BORN AT BROMFIELD, SALOP, NOVEMBER 29TH, 1792, 
 DIED AT MILTON, WILTS, NOVEMBER 21ST, 1884 ; 
 
 (CARRIED THE HORN WITH 
 THE OAKLEY, HOK GRANTLEY BERKELEY, 
 
 FROM 1831 TO 1833 ; 
 
 HIS GRACE THE DUKE OF GRAFTON, 
 WHITTLEBURY FOREST, 
 
 FROM 1833 TO 1842 ; 
 
 THE TEDWORTH, 
 MR. THOMAS ASSHETON SMITH, 
 
 FROM 1842 TO 1865, 
 
 WITHOUT FEAR AND WITHOUT REPROACH.} 
 
 THIS STONE IS RAISED BY THOSE WHO SO KNEW 
 HIM IN LIFE AS TO RESPECT HIM IN DEATH, 
 
 10 
 
IN MEMOEIAM. 
 
 The Duke of Beaufort, M.F.H. . . . Badminton. 
 
 The Duke of Grafton Euston Hall. 
 
 The Duke of Wellington Strathfieldsaye. 
 
 The Lady Charles Wellesley .... Conholt Park. 
 
 The Marquis of Aylesbury Savernake Forest. 
 
 The Earl of Kadnor Longford Castle. 
 
 The Earl of Portsmouth, M.F.H. . . Eggesford. 
 
 The Lord Penrhyn Penrhyn Castle. 
 
 The Marquis of Worcester Badminton. 
 
 Lord Algernon St. Maur Wilcot Manor. 
 
 Lady Algernon St. Maur 
 
 Lieut. -Col. Lord Arthur Wellesley . . Grenadier Guards. 
 Hon. G. Douglas Pennant, M.F.H. . . Wicken Park. 
 
 Sir Edmond Antrobus, Bart Amesbury. 
 
 Sir J. D. Astley, Bart Elsham Hall. 
 
 Sir William Humphrey, Bart Half Moon Street. 
 
 Lady Humphrey 
 
 Major Percy St. Maur ' Eoyal Fusiliers. 
 
 Mr. Ernest St. Maur Wilcot Manor. 
 
 Lieut. -Col. Antrobus Grenadier Guards. 
 
 Mrs. Slade Gully Standen House. 
 
 Col. Charles Knatchbull 
 
IN MEMORIAM. 105 
 
 Mr. Wyndham Knatchbull Babington. 
 
 Col. Norton Knatchbull Clatford Manor. 
 
 Mr. Wadham Knatchbull Sherborne. 
 
 Col. Everett Greenhill. 
 
 Mrs. Everett 
 
 Mr. Selby Lowndes, M.F.H Whaddon Hall. 
 
 Mr. J. N. Astley Ansley Hall. 
 
 Mr. Fowle Chute Lodge. 
 
 Mrs. Fowle 
 
 Mrs. Fowle (Formerly) Chute Lodge. 
 
 Mr. F. A. S. Locke Rowdeford. 
 
 Capt. Rawson Trafford Stowell Lodge. 
 
 Mrs. Rawson Trafford 
 
 Miss Ida C. Badeley 
 
 Mr. Brewer Garlogs. 
 
 Mrs. Brewer 
 
 Miss Brewer 
 
 Mr. Best Red Rice. 
 
 Mr. Frank Browne Wilton. 
 
 Mr. T. Pain Audley Wood. 
 
 Mrs. Pain 
 
 Mr. Rooke Rawlence 
 
 Mr. Arkwright, M.F.H " Oakley," Knustoii. 
 
 Mrs. Bidwell Warminster. 
 
 Mr. Fitzherbert Macdonald Salisbury. 
 
 Mr. W. Everett 
 
 Mr. J. Everett Bournemouth. 
 
 Dr. Blake 
 
 Mr. Stephen Allen Eastover. 
 
 Mr. Richard Judd Winterslow. 
 
 Mr. Souter Haymarket. 
 
 Mr. A. Ingram Wylie. 
 
 Mr. J. Linnell . .' . Paulersferry. 
 
 Mr. Lamb Andover, 
 
106 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 Mrs. Lamb Andover. 
 
 Mr. G. Stagg 
 
 Mr. Charles Pain Westover. 
 
 Mr. Criswick Child Hurstbourne, Tarrant. 
 
 Mr. Bound 
 
 Mrs. G. Miles 
 
 Mr. Dowling Foxcotte Manor. 
 
 Mr. Merriman Marlborough. 
 
 Mr. E. Fullerton South Kensington. 
 
 Mr. George Everett Bournemouth. 
 
 Mr. J. H. Eichardson Marlborough College. 
 
 Mr. Cusse Chrisenbury Priory. 
 
 Mr. Bailey Pewsey. 
 
 Mr. S. B. Dixon 
 
 Mrs. Dixon 
 
 Mr. F. Culley " Star " Hotel, Helston. 
 
 Mr. C. Perkins Marlborough. 
 
 Mr. Tudor Johnson War Office. 
 
 Mr. W. H. Gale Burbage. 
 
 Mr. Henry Browne Monkton. 
 
 Mr. W. P. Haywarcl Kennett. 
 
 Mr. S. Ferris Bradford-on-Avon. 
 
 Mr. G. Ferris Milton. 
 
 Mr. J. B. Somerset Cairo, Egypt. 
 
 Rev. G. B. Astley Cadeby Rectory. 
 
 Rev. A. A. Astley Everley. 
 
 Rev. F. Dyson Cricklade. 
 
 Rev. W. H. Awdry Ludgershall. 
 
 Mrs. Awdry 
 
 Rev. C. Soames Mildenhall. 
 
 Mr. C. Soames 
 
 Miss Soames 
 
 Rev. J. H. Gale Milton. 
 
 Mrs. Gale . 
 
IN MEMOBIAM. 107 
 
 The Misses Gale Milton. 
 
 Lieut. W. H. J. Gale H.M.S. Rapid. 
 
 Mr. E. H. Gale Edinburgh. 
 
 Mr. Kingstone Bromsgrove. 
 
 Mr. W. J. Kingstone ........ 
 
 Mr. J. W. Kingstone 
 
 Mr. J. Haines East Wick. 
 
 Mr. Marsh Fyfield. 
 
 Mr. Gilbert Milton. 
 
 Mr. John Flicker Huntsman, Tedworth. 
 
 Mr. William Dollery Stud Groom, Tedworth. 
 
 John Bevins First Whip. 
 
 John Thatcher Second Whip. 
 
 Mr. J. T. Powell Easton Royal. 
 
 ESTO PERPETUA. 
 
RICHARD CLAY & SONS, 
 
 BREAD STREET HILL, LONDON, E.G. 
 
 And at Bungait, Suffolk. 
 

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