i68 MEMOIR OF 



Russell, therefore, could neither be called a 

 bruiser, nor even a hard man, in the common 

 acceptation of that term; but his judgment as 

 a horseman could never be impugned ; he had 

 fair hands, a quick eye, a heart in the right 

 place, and so firm and yet easy a seat in the 

 saddle, that no one who looked at him when 

 mounted but would say, "That's a workman, 

 every inch of him." 



Nevertheless, despite the drawback mentioned, 

 and all other difficulties, Russell very rarely 

 failed to be close to his hounds ; nor, though 

 he lamented his "cumbrous weight" — some 

 twelve stone odd — did the three brave horses 

 that carried him so safely and well for manv 

 a hard season appear to be overtaxed , by the 

 work, or show any signs of unnatural decay. 

 They were called Billy, Cottager, and Monkey. 



The last, a chestnut horse, although some- 

 what uncertain in his temper, became a hunter 

 of great renown in the country, doing his 

 work admirably, and coming home gay as 

 a lark after the longest day. The second was 

 an entire horse, very clever at his fences, but 

 very vicious ; he would turn round and bite 

 like a bull-dog if the rider gave hiiii the ghost 

 of a chance. Even in his gallop he would 

 occasionally take a grab at the point of Russell's 

 foot ; and, had he caught it, would have torn 

 the boot ruthlessly from his leg. Twice he 



