22 lktncis Qt tbe tJuntino^fielD 



' It was a pretty sight to see the old peer arrive at a 

 meet, when he was received by all assembled with 

 almost regal honours. The hounds used to sit down 

 and watch for him, and you knew he was coming by a 

 general movement of their sterns. The old earl would 

 get off his horse, and allow them to jump up and put 

 their paws on his shoulders, no matter how dirty the 

 weather, while he bent down to let some of his favourites 

 lick his face. But the earl used sometimes to blow up 

 in wonderful language, and he was no respecter of 

 persons when out of temper.' 



Besides his foxhounds Earl Fitzhardinge also kept 

 staghounds at Cheltenham, where he and his old white 

 horse were familiar figures for many a winter, and 

 indeed, the residents of that fashionable watering-place 

 owed his lordship a deep debt of gratitude for the sport 

 of all kinds with which he so liberally provided them. 

 On February 23, 1857, the earl, then in his 71st year, 

 had a bad accident out hunting. While riding under 

 some trees, his head came in contact with a branch, and 

 he was thrown with great force. This fall, no doubt, 

 hastened his end, though it was not the immediate 

 cause of his death. He had gone the pace all his life, 

 and it needed but this shock to start the break-up 

 of a constitution which, strong as it had been, was 

 already shattered. He died at Berkeley Castle in the 

 following October, and I may mention, as an instance of 

 the ruling passion strong in death, that the earl had 

 some favourite hounds brought up to his bedroom, with 

 Harry Ayris in attendance, only forty-eight hours before 

 his decease. 



The earldom died with him, for he never married, but 

 the family estates went, in accordance with his father's 



