98 LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



front of hounds. This will give some idea of the pace we went after leaving 

 Latton Park for Parndon Woods, towards which point — galloping down a 

 headland — the young horse* with a coat like a doormat appeared to be 

 going well, but after Parndon Woods we never saw him again. 



Across Rye Hill Common, through the farm, and so to Parndon Woods, 

 is the usual line. No one knows it better than Bailey, yet he swung open 

 the gate and took the country to be near his hounds, who at any moment 

 might have borne to the left, and the grass line to Maries. Running straight 

 through the top end of the middle wood, hounds woke up the silent glades of 

 the furthest covert, as full cry they went through it, pointing for Nasing 

 Common. 



" That man at the corner will head him," muttered the huntsman, as he 

 jumped off his horse to swing open the small hand-gate — Capt. White's, we 

 call it, for on one occasion, he and Lord Charles Beresford jumped it, as hounds 

 came away at this point — and down the boggy middle ride, the clay up to 

 your hocks, we plunged and galloped to meet another band of horsemen, 

 led by Mr. C. E. Green, w^ho had come straight through the woods, to take 

 our turn over the single rail out of the boggy corner, for few followed Mr. 

 ]jasham's bold lead to the right of our place, as the " Gone away " came 

 floating down wind. Taking the line up to Epping Long Green, Bailey 

 made a grand cast. Giving a good fox credit for a bold line and a good 

 country, he held them over the lane, and then the fun began, as hounds, 

 picking it up, ran a cracker straight for Maries, over a delightful grass 

 country, and fences that you could gallop at. The pace quite good enough 

 for the Doctor's " Gate,'" after fording the brooklet, and six, if not seven, 

 accepted his lead : Mrs. Grossman, on her lovely black — few better horses 

 in the hunt ; Major Wilson on his grey ; Mr. Stacey, in velvet cap, on his 

 grey ; Mr. Swire on his bay, and threepenny-bits would not have jolted out 

 between their knees and saddle flaps, for they all sat as tight as wax as they 

 came over, without the rap of a hoof. 



Into Maries for a certainty, and you would have made a mistake, while 

 left-handed of that covert you could never have retrieved it ere the game 

 was played out and the Forest won. Down the slope of the grass at hot 

 pace, a single place in one fence, and no jealousy in Mrs. Walter Buck- 

 master's good riding, or she would never have let, no, made me, go first ; 

 and in and out of the lane we rode for Cobbins Brook, and Mr. Walter 

 Buckmaster hadn t quite forgotten the playing grounds of his boyhood and 

 the ford under the old oak tree. The horse he was riding was a clinker, 

 though the martingale bespoke careful handling, and to follow in his tracks 

 might mean a rude awakening from careless indifference, for a fence that he 

 could trifle with would extend the ordinary hunter to his fullest capacity ; so 

 we measured our distance at the next blind hole over which he so lightly 

 popped, and so towards the Forest, looming dark and purple in the distance, 

 and to note the hard-riding secretaryf of the Puckeridge Hunt, on his good 

 chestnut, going as if he had never known w^hat dislocated shoulders meant, 

 and always with the thrusters in the van, from the bird's-eye view permitted 

 us, and the velvet cap already alluded to striding along to the front on his 

 grey, reminding one very much, with his mutton-chop whiskers, of Lord 

 Lonsdale in his keenness and style of riding, and alongside in close atten- 

 dance with no jealousy, easily, confidently, airily holding their own, rode the 

 fairest of the fair, the bravest of the brave, but narrow was the escape of 

 the gallant " Spitfire's" rider| as she hung balanced on the bank — and deep 

 was the gratitude Jack earned for his timely aid. 



* Mr. H. E. Jones's chestnut. t Mr. Tresham Gilbey. J Mrs. Carter. 



