48 MEMOIR OF 



which obtained such high favour in the royal 

 household. Like tendencies, the love of hunting, 

 with all its accompanying charms, had brought 

 them together on many occasions to the merry 

 cover-side ; but one day, on which they had 

 met Sir Thomas Mostyn's hounds, stood out in 

 strong relief on the tablet of Russell's memory, 

 and probably left a like impression on that of 

 Mr. Dauncey. 



Stephen Goodall, a real Titan himself, and 

 the progenitor of a race of Titans — the three 

 Goodalls — of whom the country that bred them 

 may well be proud, was about to draw a small 

 willow spinney on the north side of Bletching- 

 ton House, when a fox, closely pursued by the 

 Duke of Beaufort's pack, crossed in view of 

 his hounds, and, putting his head like an arrow 

 for Gravenall Wood, led the now united field 

 and packs at a terrific pace over the stifTest 

 portion of the Bicester Vale. The brook is a 

 bumper, even with its banks — that brook which 

 has baptized more Oxford men than any parson 

 in the county — and the hounds, five or six 

 couple abreast, are fiinging desperately for the 

 lead, as they make straight for the stream, and 

 dash into it amid a cloud of spray. 



" Give them room, gentlemen, do," shouted 

 Will Long to the field, as his horse, pricking 

 his ears and measuring the tide, was the first 

 to sweep over, like a swallow on a summer's 



