A MAD ClALLOP 44 1 



enouo-h that was. Providence vouchsafed two fine fortnio"hts 

 of incalculable value, the one for the hay harvest, beginning on 

 July ist, the other for the corn harvest, beginning on 

 August 30th. 



The year will ever be memorable as the glorious struggle 

 for Italian Independence, in which Garibaldi displayed such 

 heroic qualities, and with a handful of men invaded Sicily, 

 overran Naples and handed both over to his Sovereign, Victor 

 Emanuel. With us it will be memorable as the year in which 

 the Rifle Volunteer Corps firmly established themselves as one 

 of our best native defences, and the first public meeting was 

 held at Wimbledon Common, inaugurated by our Queen. 



Descending to the more immediate subject of these few 

 rough notes, Horses and Hunting, I may record that I was 

 unlucky with my brood mares, &c. 



On December 8th, i860, I rode " Woodpigeon " with the 

 first fox, and then sent her home and rode " Exmoor " with 

 the second fox. It was their first appearance in the Roothings, 

 and both acquitted themselves very well, and excited favourable 

 comment. "Exmoor" especially had gone brilliantly for a 

 young one, in a very quick ring of an hour in the afternoon, the 

 hounds running until dark and being whipped off 



On returning home it rained very heavily, as it had been 

 doinof on and off all dav, and having^ o-ot as far as Saunders' 

 Farm, " Little Myless," near Stondon Church, I rode into his 

 yard and put on a light silk mackintosh cape, without sleeves, 

 which I carried on my saddle many days but had never before 

 used. It was pitch dark and raining heavily, and blowing a 

 gale when I left the yard. All went well so far as Stondon 

 Church, though I half thought my young mare noticed the 

 pattering of the rain on the cape, and its rustling and cracking 

 in the wind. 



On crowning the hill by the church and beginning to 

 descend on the other side into a sort of gully, I met the full 

 force of the blast, which inflated the cape like a balloon and 

 made it rustle and crack like a dozen hunting-whips. Before 

 I was well aware of it my mare had quickened her pace and 

 started off in a mad gallop downhill, through the black darkness, 

 with my eyes half blinded by the heavy rain dashing into my 

 face. Hampered by the cape, to stop my horse was impossible. 

 All I could do was to endeavour to steer her and keep her on 

 her legs and in the road, praying that we might not meet 

 anything in our mad career. Unluckily it was an undulating- 

 road, but nearlv all down hill. I felt her descending- one of 



