JOHN VICKERMAN LONGBOURNE 357 



(W^e must go forward a great many years to realise that 

 the boy Jack has developed into the grown man who is driving 

 the grey mare, and whose features are familiar to all those who 

 were following the E.H. at the time this photograph was taken, 

 when he was living in winter quarters at Wynters Grange. Alas ! 

 at the time he sent me this photograph, July, '96, he was not 

 able, through serious illness, to hunt a mouse, let alone a fox. 

 A kinder-hearted fellow or better sportsman never breathed. 

 All had a good word for Jack Longbourne ; his name appears 

 a good many times in the extracts I have made from his uncle's 

 diary; sufficient, therefore, for me to add that in his love of the 

 game and bold riding he was a worthy follower of that bold 

 Nimrod, Charles Ranken Vickerman, and although he had his 

 share of tumbles, he always came up smiling.) 



This morning we started for the fixture at Hatfield Heath, 

 Jack on his "The Queen," I on ''Carlow," &c. A small field 

 and a blank day memorable to Mr. Vickermann from Mr. 

 Conyers, after they had finished the forest about 2 p.m., ask- 

 ing them in to luncheon at Mr, Houblon's ; C. Tyrrell, Wilson 

 of Canfield, James Meyer, Warter, Coope and Conyers doing- 

 justice to Mr. Houblon's hospitality, x^fter luncheon they drew 

 Bassenden Springs and other coverts, where they were joined 

 by Mr. Houblon and Mr. Jolliffe Tufnell, with a lad, probably 

 a son of the latter, and Sir Henry Meux. They were on their 

 way to pay a visit to Mr. Rush, at Elsenham, and waited some 

 little time on the chance of our finding, &c., &c. 



" The Queen " is one of the best shaped, cleanest and 

 quickest ponies I have ever seen. She jumps beautifully, 

 and at one place a drop made such a spring through a standing 

 jump as to astonish Jack, making him change colour and 

 wonder when she was coming down, and causing his legs to 

 fiy away from the saddle when he landed. Fortunately, seeing 

 the drop, I had admonished him to sit well back, so he did not 

 lose his seat. He is a plucky boy, fond of the sport, and only 

 wants practice* to make a good and bold rider. He is naturally 

 in love with his pony, but she is far too fat and rough to make 

 me think much of Parris as a groom, and nails are driven into 

 the very point of her toes to fasten the fore shoes. (Jack was 

 not so lucky in his essay at hunting — but let the diary tell 

 the tale.) 



Tuesday, March 2,0, i847- On returning home from town 



* This practice he evidently got, for in the years I knew him in Essex he was always a 

 dashing horseman and one of the best-hearted fellows and keenest fox-hunters I ever came 



across. — Ed. 



