132 LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



holds with it an undergraduate's partiality for jumping, and goes 

 very straight. There were few more popular men in the 

 county of Essex than the late Charles Bury, few harder 

 workers in all matters connected with county administration. 

 It was a rare thing for him to have a single day free from 

 some committee meeting or other, either at Waltham Abbey, 

 Epping or Chelmsford — " He died in harness T 



Back at a trot for the Parndon Hall country, where we were joined by 

 Mr. and Miss Peel, Captain and Mrs. Bruce, and Dr. Grubb. With fresh 

 horses they were prepared for anything. To start with, the little steeple- 

 chase from Mark Hall to Weir Hatches, where the cut direct over the 

 Vicarage iron railings was pointed out for one section by Dr. Love, nor 

 dwelt he to see if there were any rash followers' necks to mend. Better, 



Major W , if you had gone through the plantation with Mr. Peel, 



Mr. Howard, and Mr. Newman Gilbey. After this, as a forlorn hope, to 

 Barnsleys in the icy wind. 



Barnsleys ? where do you generally get to from there ? queried Sir 

 Evelyn Wood, as the day was drawing in, and a train to town had to be 

 caught. In the olden days — some call them the golden days — from 

 Barnsleys to the Lavers was a very usual line, came the rejoinder, and on 

 one occasion we reached Forest Hall. Little did we dream what was in 

 store for us, or few of those who had a kick left in their nags would have 

 gone home. 3.15, we found him (and so cold were my fingers that it was 

 with the greatest difficulty I could restore the ticker to my waistcoat 

 pocket), and to Harlow Park we ran him, barely touching the line on the 

 first ploughed field. They quickened up a bit as they struck the grass, 

 and kept us moving to Harlow Park, Mr. Gerald Buxton's horse giving him 

 a nasty roll by galloping into a boggy hole near the covert, and a bold 

 young sportsman riding Mr. Dent's horse, who had gone particularly well 

 in the morning, took his own line and a purler into the lane en route. 



The rnusic in Harlow Park might have been heard at Canes as hounds 

 drove their fox with a will round the covert, and forced him at 3.30 back 

 over the common at hot pace for Barnsleys. Through the middle ride with 

 Mr. Bevan and a few more we could see hounds running back and break on 

 the Harlow side and hunt steadily by themselves (the huntsman was back 

 in covert) over the pastures to Hubbard's Hall. There seemed to be a fair 

 number of people with us at this point, but they fell off gradually as hounds, 

 taking a line over the Harlow Road, ran over a capital country close to 

 Thrushes Bush, by which time the field was fairly select, two ladies only 

 riding to hounds, Mrs. Bruce on her favourite chestnut Roy, and Miss Peel 

 on the well-known grey. Threading a small spinney, hounds ran steadily on 

 over the snow-covered plough for Matching Park, which you would have 

 staked your last shilling the fox meant entering, taking us over ditch after 

 ditch, one blinder than usual nearly bringing Mr. Peel to grief. For some 

 time it was a case of up and down with him and his horse, but the clever 

 animal, clinging to the edge of the ditch like a fly to a ceiling, pulled 

 through it all right, and as we turned for an easier fence, Mr. Newman 

 Gilbey remarked to me, "Ain't he a varmint P " And as he meant, " Isn't 

 he a customer across a country ? " I heartily endorsed it. We all know 

 that none of the old members of the Hunt can touch him for dash and 

 quickness, and few indeed of the young ones either. Sir Evelyn Wood is 



