236 LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



Hounds were close at their fox that gave us the evening gallop, as they 

 roused him at the Nasing side of the woods, and drove him out with 

 merry music from the middle covert, but not unviewed. " That's Mr. 

 Sewell's holloa," said the huntsman, as he shot past me by the woodside, 

 and he was right, but the chattering music of the ladies was clue enough 

 to ride to as they drove their fox from the top to the bottom of the covert. 

 Only those who sent their horses along at best pace, and they included 

 Mr. F. Green and his daughter, Mr. C. E. Green, Jack and the huntsman, 

 cleared the woods as the hounds streaked across the open and through the 

 little spinney beyond the muddy lane — into which Mr. Peel on his roan 

 seemed to have dropped from the clouds just in the nick of time, making 

 for Passmores. 



Hounds fanned along at a rare pace right across the middle of the 

 fields, Mr. Peel leading. Two fields behind, in hot pursuit, came the 

 Master, Mr. Newman Gilbey, Mr. Steele and his son and daughter, the 

 present tenant of Little Laver Hall, and Mr. Ford Barclay. From Pass- 

 mores, across some heavy ploughs, hounds ran faster than ever. Crossing 

 the brook below Netterswell Bury they swung to the right, and only the 

 lightweights and fast horses could live with them. The pace was too 

 much for Jenkins, but there was time to pull out the watch as Mr. Peel 

 jumped into the road some half-mile below Netteswell Bury, with the 

 leading hounds and the pack checked for an instant, as the fox had run 

 the road, but hardly light enough to see the face of a watch for the steam 

 that came from the heaving flanks of the best-conditioned horse. Fifteen 

 minutes from the find was good enough to this point, and not many more 

 faces to note either who had taken advantage of this slight breather and 

 got to hounds. Mr. and Mrs. Grossman were in the road, I know, and 

 Mr. Galloway and Mr. Sydney Green and Mr. Todhunter, but I cannot 

 add another name from memory, though I believe there were one or two 

 others. Getting on the grass again, fences came thick and numerous, and 

 hounds got away from everyone except Mr. C. E. Green. Running close 

 to Bays Grove they swung to the right, and ran vevy fast up to Latton, 

 without entering it, and back over Rye Hill Common, and on over the 

 grass to Epping Long Green, finally reaching the big woods forty minutes 

 from the find, the shades of night saving the fox. 



On such a scenting day it was rather hard that the huntsman proper 

 did not handle a fox when the eight amateurs did so well who followed 

 the six-and-half couple of hounds that got away with the fox already 

 alluded to from Harlow Park in the morning. Let us see who they were. 

 The secretary''^ of the Puckeridge Hunt — he had a lot of blood on the 

 knees of his white breeches when he rejoined us, so methinks that he 

 must have been the carver in chief when the carcase was cut up and 

 divided. One lady, the Master's daughter ; of course the brush hung at 

 her saddle bow. A thrusting welter from the Roothing country claimed 

 the mask, and no one dare gainsay him. Mr. Ford Barclay waved aloft in 

 triumph a pad ; Mr. B. E. Todhunter, Mr. Newman Gilbey, and Mr. 

 Gosling probably secured similar trophies. What the others divided has 

 yet to be learnt. The kill took place at Thornwood Common ; the run 

 was over the cream of the grass country ; time, 25 minutes ; and only those 

 who like sour grapes could affirm that the old women who lived in the 

 cottages near the scene of the obsequies of this bold Harlow Park fox 

 were of any assistance to hounds or huntsmen. 



Alas ! that I should have to record a sad, very sad event which 



Mr. Tresham Gilbey. 



