The Essex Foxhounds. 1 6 7 



was as valuable in his eyes as that of the Bel voir 

 in those of his Grace of Rutland, and I doubt if 

 the noble Duke, with all his magnificent hounds 

 and horses, enjoys the sport as much as 1 did that 

 with my scratch pack. 



RevisitiDg a well-remembered locality after a lapse 

 of forty years, one expects to find changes. The 

 ruthless hand of improvement I found on arrival at 

 Havering Bower had destroyed the old church, sub- 

 stituting an elaborate and highly ornamented building. 

 Time was when the reverend doctor who officiated 

 arrived clad in breeches and boots, and having turned 

 his old grey horse into the churchyard to graze on 

 the rank grass in that sacred spot, would walk up 

 the aisle, putting on a dingy white surplice, and after 

 going through the service, would mount his Rosi- 

 nante and trot off to Navestock to do the afternoon 

 performance. Times are changed now, and I doubt 

 whether the bishop of the diocese would altogether 

 approve of the costume; and yet with all the innova- 

 tions and alterations of the present day the world 

 does not seem to greatly improve ; things go on 

 much in the same way as they ever did, and there 

 is evidently still a great deal of human nature in 

 man. 



Then I look for the fm-ze-grown gravel pits and 

 the cosy old farmhouse, and think of the times 

 when a day's ferreting was the height of my ambi- 

 tion. Now a stately mansion, the residence of Mr. 

 Macintosh, occupies the site of the old house, and a 

 well-planted, undulating park, extending over a 

 large tract of land, stands in the place of the rough 

 rabbit covers. 



