Baron Fitzhardinge of Bristol, and, though in his 74th 

 year, continued to hunt the country, which the late earl 

 had parcelled out for himself, with undiminished vigour. 

 He had a rare henchman in Harry Ayris, who carried 

 the horn for him up to 1866, when a bad fall so seriously 

 injured the veteran huntsman that he was compelled to 

 resign. It was on that occasion that Harry gave a 

 signal instance of his unselfishness and pluck. When 

 his horse went down and he lay helpless with a badl)' 

 broken leg, one of the whips and two gentlemen 

 came to his assistance. But he would not have it. 

 ' Go on,' he exclaimed impatiently, ' go on — never 

 mind me — can't you see they're running into him.' 

 Lord Fitzhardinge died in his 80th year on the 17th 

 of October 1867, and his old huntsman survived him 

 nearly seven years, for Harry Ayris did not join the 

 majority till the 20th of April 1874. He had served 

 with the two Lords Fitzhardinge for forty years and 

 was much attached to both of them. Both were fine 

 sportsmen, and in that capacity there was not much 

 to choose between them, but as men, the old sea-dog 

 was far away the better of the two. His language may 

 have been coarse and strong sometimes, as was natural 

 to a sailor, but his life was wholesome and cleanly, and 

 his conduct decency itself by comparison with that of 

 his elder brother. 



Among the notabilities of the Fitzhardinge Hunt was 

 Jem Hastings the famous runner, who for five-and- 

 twenty years followed Lord Fitzhardinge's hounds on 

 foot, not because he was too poor to afford a mount, 

 but because he detested pigskin. Some of his feats 

 were extraordinary. On one occasion he footed it four- 

 and-twenty miles to covert, followed the hounds all day, 



