MR. GARDINER AND DR. CARTER OF THE ESSEX UNION 5 I 



Dr. Carter, Mr. Whitmore, M.H., Mr. Tweed, Mr. Hilton, Mr. Dalton, 

 Mr. A. Darby, Messrs. Bligh and Gardiner ; several ladies, including 

 Misses Johnson, Mrs. and Miss Temperley, Miss Garden. 



Within a short distance of the meet hounds were thrown into Ingrave 

 Hall Wood (the property of Capt. Digby Neave, who is one of the 

 staunchest preservers of foxes and chief pillars of the Essex Union Hunt), 

 dashing in with ready eagerness at the huntsman's cheer — a cheer with a 

 beautiful ring about it, as we could hear for ourselves as it came floating 

 back to us as we plunged into what appeared to be the main ride of the 

 covert. 



Mr. W. Gardiner is one of the best known men with the Union ; a man, 

 they tell me, who is always there, be it long or be it short, be it slow or 

 be it fast, with a perfect knowledge of the country and the line of a fox ; a 

 good horseman, never jumping unless compelled, no wonder that the broad 

 of his back is a beacon for so many of the followers of the Union Hunt 

 when the big dogs are away with a slashing scent over the stiff Essex 

 Union country. Well, it was Mr. Gardiner who dashed up a side ride, and 

 it was his halloa, methinks, that so shortly brought the huntsman galloping 

 back up the hock-deep path, as the hounds flew forward to the cry. 



Right about turn, and we struggled out of that ride as best we could, 

 but the pack had cleared the wood two fields to the good before half of us 

 were able to set to work to try and catch them over about a bit of the 

 heaviest going I ever came across. It is a well-known field, I believe, and 

 would be none the worse if it had a year's sun on it without any rain. 

 Perhaps it was as well for some of us that scent was not holding, and that 

 hounds got on the lines of the vixen instead of the dog, otherwise we might 

 never have caught them. With indifferent scent, the field held well in 

 hand by the Master, after some most patient hound work the vixen was 

 run to ground in a drain. 



In the way of fencing there was very little to diversify the proceedings, 

 but one ugly bottom towards the end of this little hunt was first flown by a 

 gentleman on a fine blood-like chestnut, whom I had previously spotted as 

 a customer in spite of his silvered hair ; and I envied him his nerve, but 

 did not wonder at it when I was told the profession he belonged to, looking 

 every inch a soldier. I am afraid that I must disappoint that warlike 

 section of our race — which has no warmer admirer than myself — perhaps 

 incur their wrath, by saying that I cannot recall any soldier with silvered 

 locks who can carry them to the front like Dr. Carter, who, in his prime, 

 I am assured, with Saunders and Barker, formed one of a trio who could 

 hold their own against all comers — quite the " Osbaldistons and Rosses " 

 of the south. 



A long draw in your own country without finding is, of all things, the 

 most wearisome process known to mortal man, unless you can get up a 

 flirtation, a thing unheard of in the hunting-field. But, in a strange land, 

 it offers endless charm and variety to a lover of nature as each minute 

 opens up some fresh view, some lovely vista of charming woodland scenery. 

 To an eye never tired of gazing on a fresh landscape what can be more 

 delightful ; for the country we rode through was not flat, and the chains of 

 woods, of small dimensions, were nearly all begirt with emerald pastures. 

 But the fairest scene of all was reserved for the last. The wind had risen 

 slightly, and upon the eminence we stood upon it made itself felt as we 

 saw hounds thrown into Bottledown Hill Wood to draw it up wmd. It 

 was getting late, too, close on 4 p.m., but we cared not ; for the picture we 

 gazed upon had httle of the flatness associated with the county of Essex or 

 the vaunted Roothings, and to my mind was infinitely more attractive and 

 more sporting. 



