i82 MEMOIR OF 



Early in the spring of 1831, the young 

 baronet, Sir WiUiam Molesworth, then in his 

 twenty-first year, having invited a large party of 

 gentlemen to meet Phillipps and the Landue 

 hounds at Pencarrow for a fortnight's hunting, 

 the house was filled to the rafters. Two stalls 

 were allotted to each guest, and hacks ad lihitiiin 

 found room in the stables of the neighbouring 

 tenants. The few survivors of that meeting — 

 and now, alas, they are very few — will never 

 forget the i6th of February in that fortnight, 

 when a fox was found at Polbrock, near the 

 riverside, every hound breaking away almost on 

 his back, bringing him over the paling into 

 Pencarrow Park, and by the Roman mounds 

 away to Helland Wood ; thence tearing on with 

 a burning scent over the virgin soil of the vast 

 rough enclosures, they carried a grand head, 

 and, dashing five or six couple abreast over the 

 big boundary fence, broke out on the moor and 

 on to the Launceston and Bodmin road, where 

 they dropped into slow hunting and then threw 

 up. 



The road was of granite, hard as iron and 

 dry as brickdust ; but a hound called Memory, 

 with nose well down, held on, faintly feathering 

 here and there, yet still on — the rest of the 

 hounds, with heads up, being hopelessly at fault. 

 Phillipps, growing impatient and grasping his 

 horn, was turning to cast them towards the 



