34 HUNTING AND SPORTING NOTES, 



liunting came another hunt dinner, when, *' towards the 

 heel of the evenmg a storm arose, and slugs in a sawpit, 

 instead of foxhunting, was to have been the order of the 

 day on the forthcoming day. I was sorry, for fighting 

 and foxhunting are very opposite pursuits, and Euripides 

 observes that Mars, though a favourite with Yenus, is 

 never seen in company with Bacchus." 



On Thursday, the fifth of January, Sir Bellingham met 

 at Sundorne, the seat of the late Mr Corbet, who for so 

 many years hunted Warwickshire. 



" We found immediately, and went very sharply to 

 Haman (sic) Hill, where, under the shelf of the precij^ice, 

 the pack divided, and, unseen by everybody but the first 

 whip, all but six couples and a half went away to Attingham 

 with a fresh fox. Strange to say, we ran the hunted fox 

 for more than an hour with these six and a half couples 

 through the long chain of coverts, and there is no doubt 

 but that we should have killed him had we not changed 

 again. The scent was a burning one. 



" An opportunity was afforded me of helping a brother 

 sportsman in distress. That first-rate horseman, Mr. 

 George Forester, was by the covert side, but by some 

 means or other disapj^ointed of his horse. Having two 

 out, I mounted him upon one of them, and he did me the 

 honour to say he was never better carried. I also had the 

 gratification of mounting the third son of Mr. Corbet, 

 now at Eton, and if we could have had a splitter, I have 

 reason to believe he would have shoved the little mare 

 over the country at a wonderful rate. 



" Sir Bellingham and myself dined that night at 

 Sundorne Castle, whence we j^roceeded to the ball, 

 had not set my foot in this splendid mansion (certainly 

 one of the finest places in England) since the days of that 

 justly esteemed sportsman who so many years possessed 

 it, and whose memory — not only as a sportsman — is so 

 dear to his friends. Some alterations have certainly taken 

 place, produced by the sweeping hand o time. Instead 

 of the sixty couples of the blood of the Trojans, with 

 Will Barrow at their head, the kennel contains a small 

 pack of harriers kept by the present Mr. Corbet. Fuit 

 Iliu7n, et ingeiis gloria tcttcrum. — ' The glory of Troy is 

 no'more, and Will Barrow is dead.' " Mr. Corbet was 

 called " The father of the Trojans," in allusion to the 

 many sons of his celebrated hound, Trojan, that he bred. 



