JOHN PEEL. 



Like Tom Moody, John Peel owes his celebrity to a 

 song, though I am bound to say that the Cumberland 

 huntsman was far more worthy of such a distinction 

 than the Shropshire whipper-in. And what canny 

 Cumbrian is there, the wide world over, whose heart is 

 not stirred within him by the dear, familiar words and 

 tune of ' D'ye ken John Peel,' even as the hearts of his 

 Scottish neighbours across the Border are stirred by 

 ' Auld Lang Syne ' ! It has been sung in strange places, 

 that famous Cumberland hunting-song. Its chorus rang 

 out hearty and homely from the huts at Balaclava and 

 the dreary trenches before Sebastopol. It cheered the 

 spirits of the band of beleaguered heroes in the Residency 

 at Lucknow. The future King of England, our jolly 

 sport-loving Prince, has been known many a time to join 

 lustily in its spirit-stirring chorus. I myself have heard 

 it sung on the boards of Drury Lane by some seventy 

 comely lasses, whose shapel}' figures, clad in the hunting 

 costume of the other sex, made one of the prettiest 

 pictures I ever saw upon the stage, and gave an effect 

 to the song which roused the audience to enthusiasm. 



And yet, world-famous as the song is, I don't suppose 

 that one person in a thousand knows who wrote it, or has 

 the faintest notion who or what John Peel was beyond 



