432 LEAVES FROM A HUNTINCi DIARY 



(who could not hold his horse, and rode as if he were still 

 charging the Sepoys) and a cousin of George Glyn's and a 

 young Peruvian, a friend of Heatleys. I have taken the 

 office of Secretary to the Staghounds in consequence of 

 Tom Mashiter relinquishing it, and am determined to do 

 all I can to prevent Frederick Petre adhering to his declared 

 resolution that this is to be their last season. It is strange and 

 mystifying to see how little appreciated is the excellent sport 

 shown by these hounds, while multitudes go with the fox- 

 hounds and get no sport worthy the name. 



A Graphic Description of a Run with Staghounds. 



January 17th, i860. Since the break up of the frost the 

 ground has been desperately heavy and holding, and with the 

 exception of the very first day with the staghounds, viz., 

 December 28th, when the " Baroness " and one or two other 

 horses could have over-ridden hounds, the latter have had the 

 best of it, and it has required no small amount of speed, breed 

 and condition in the horse, and judgment in the rider, to keep 

 on terms with them. 



To-day from Warren Farm was one of severest runs we 

 have had. The hind was the clipper of November 22nd, 1859, 

 who grave us the three miles in seven minutes. The start was 

 very bad in the deep holding ploughs, down by the brook, and 

 with biof awkward fencino- to the " Hare and Hounds," Rox- 

 well. Here we crossed the brook by the bridge and got into 

 the meadows with a fair flight of rails. Basil Sparrow was of 

 course ready and eager for them, notwithstanding his ponderous 

 dimensions. I had never yet tried the " Baroness" at anything 

 more nearly approaching timber than a hurdle, and Mr. Barker 

 (her former owner) had told me that he had never ridden her at 

 any. However, the temptation of a flight of rails between two 

 crrass fields, was irresistible, and holdino- her well tocrether she 

 jumped them beautifully, just as timber should be jumped. 

 Suddenly I heard a cry of distress from the rear, and looking 

 back, I saw our worthy Master, Frederick Petre, sitting or half 

 kneelinof on the turf, utterino- loud moans and lamentations. I 

 thought I had better first catch his horse, which was going 

 away, bringing him back, I found our Master — who had fallen 

 off his horse, for the horse did not fall — was more frightened 

 than hurt, for he was able to remount and go through the run 

 and enjoy his glass of sherry at Bundish Hall (when all was 

 over) as well as any of us. 



In getting out of the sticky lane by Bush Wood a planta- 

 tion leading to Barnish Wood, over a wide and blind ditch. 



