CHARLES BURY 



I^I 



many seasons he hunted with the E.H. from attending any of 

 their most distant meets in the Saturday country. He thought 

 nothing of hacking out twenty miles, hunting ah day, and 

 coming back the same distance ; and if he generally stuck 

 to the road he made no attempt to disguise the fact, and 

 would as soon have thought of jumping a fence during 

 the twenty years I knew him as the late Mr. Henry Vigne. 

 Yet like Mr. Vigne he dearly loved hunting, dearly loved to 

 talk over a good run. He did all in his power to encourage 

 and foster the sport, and though at times inclined to take a 



Vicarage Wood 



pessimistic view of affairs venatic, and think the country as far 

 as hunting was concerned was going to the dogs, yet he did all 

 in his power to arrest the evil day. Succeeding to an estate 

 through which ran miles of wire (not barbed — it was not 

 invented then) he had it all removed, and his "stick heap" 

 was one of the surest finds in the county. Many a good run 

 have we had from that, and many a good glass of brown sherry 

 did we quaff at his hospitable doors before proceeding to evict 

 one of his foxes ; generally three in the Stick Heap then as 

 there are now, when his son reigns in his stead at St. Leonards 

 — a son who, having imbibed all his father's love of hunting, 



