PARK HILL WOOD 53 



Standing on the road on the top of the hill, we had a fine uninterrupted 

 view across the beautiful valley of fair pasture, varied with a few arable 

 fields that stretched down one long gradual slope of some mile in length, to 

 flow on and then rise in almost imperceptible gradations until lost on the 

 distant heights of Laindon Hills, and with only one dark wood set in the 

 heart of the valley, of size sufficient to give horses their wind (if a fox chose 

 that line) as they galloped parallel with it with hounds driving forward in 

 maddening chorus. What a perfect line for a run ! Hearts beat high and 

 expectations rose at the very thought of such a treat e'en while some of our 

 party wondered — Mr. H. J. Miller was one — whether we should ever get 

 there, to that distant church clearly discernible as it cut the horizon in the 

 far distance. Time passed slowly, but surely. Not a whimper. Few, 

 if any, of the field had gone home, for those who come out with 

 the Essex Union are a very keen lot. Not a sign, and with some- 

 thing like a sigh of despair we waited to see the twin covert on the 

 adjoining hill drawn before bidding farewell to our sporting neighbours. 

 How patiently the huntsman had drawn the covert, how well the hounds 

 worked through it ! We could see them coming on in front of him well spread 

 out. It was a pretty sight, for, as he rode down one of the deep coombes 

 in the wood, his pink coat was the only vestige of colour against the purple 

 and russet-brown of the trees. 



Now our hopes rose high at the mention of Park Hill Wood, for it was 

 said to be a certainty, but at this time of year how often the best coverts 

 disappoint us ! Leaving the road to follow Mr. Helme to a corner of the 

 wood, we had scarcely reached it before a scream sent the blood boiling 

 and leaping through our veins. Like Sail a-hoy ! to a shipwrecked mariner, 

 so is the scream that proclaims a fox afoot to the ardent fox-hunter, when 

 covert after covert has been called upon in vain, he reaches the last to be 

 tried, the forlorn hope. Pasture and plough, up hill and down, divided 

 this covert from the last one drawn, and parallel with both ran the road, 

 and to this we made as hounds, with the huntsman close to them, went 

 flying across. 



At the bottom of the deep wood hounds were at fault until Goddard 

 cheered them over the road, and for a few fields they ran and ran well, and 

 no one w^ould have headed the huntsman had they run on, for he got to 

 them like lightning, and the fences that we encountered had few weak 

 places in them, I can inform you. It was a case of first come first served, 

 and the fairies help you if anyone got down at the only available spot. It 

 takes a fair fence to put " the Cat " down, but before the end of the run we 

 saw him in difficulties as his bold rider pushed him along on his own line. 

 Were we not on the vixen again ? It looked like it (for we knew a brace 

 of foxes had been seen in Park Wood), as hounds came back, making a 

 most curious twist up to Little Burstead church, to turn again and carry on 

 the line for some distance beyond it, where, as the hour was getting late, 

 with a ride of some eighteen miles before us, we reluctantly had to leave 

 Goddard to puzzle it out, but scent has to be very bad and the fox very 

 wary to escape him. 



Essex Union men speak most enthusiastically of their Master and their 

 huntsman ; the oldest of them affirm that they can never recall such a 

 good season as the one that is so rapidly approaching a close — a truly 

 great performance, considering the huntsman has been practically half 

 the time without the assistance of a first whip owing to illness. Another 

 fortnight, they say, will see the curtain fall in the Union country. So I 

 am afraid there is little chance of another day with them. We were much 

 struck by the order that prevailed in the field, by the care exercised to 



