THE RUN OF THE SEASON 1 87 



0\'er that and the road, into Green's fields, and, re-crossin<,^ tlie rails, made 

 at a great pace for Coopersale Hall. As we had to gallop to Baxter's 

 ]^ridge to get over the rails, we were most fortunate to have in Henry- 

 John Miller a pilot who knew an available road. Thinking that hounds 

 were bearing left-handed again towards Miss Houblon's, I turned into 

 Baxter's yard under a low gateway in some large wooden doors, but doing 

 so the cob hit his head, and when I saw hounds turning down the 

 hill, nothing would induce him to retrace his footsteps. In despair, I 

 urged some children in the yard to hit him with my whip, and equally 

 futile were all my own efforts in getting hold of his ears and pulling at the 

 bit, to induce him to come out of that yard. Not a bit of it, he would not 

 move, and I was rapidly losing all chance of seeing hounds again, when, 

 happy thought — perhaps he would back out. To my intense relief this 

 plan succeeded, and I was free ; but hounds ! oh, where were they ? 



Checking, by all that was fortunate, at the bottom of the hill, how that 

 cob went down I need not express, but the shaking of his head plainly 

 showed that he had given it a nasty knock. Only just in time did 1 reach 

 that corner, for hounds were tailing away up Mr. Blott's field, crossing his 

 drive just below the house. They ran very nicely by Garnish Hall, over 

 that road down to the brook, near Barber's, which, though a trifling jump, 

 was too much for Basham's cob, for in it went on to its back, and nothing 

 short of a cart team would have been of any avail to extricate it from that 

 awkward position. Not so easy was the next fence on the left of Barber's, 

 for, although Mr. Fred Green, who was riding a remarkal)ly clever grey, 

 got over without any apparent effort, Mr. Jones on his thoroughbred mare 

 " Luxury," was fairly engulfed. Bailey, more knowing, or probably more 

 intent upon his hounds than anything else, was in the wood with them, and 

 got out with a scramble over a tree stump. Crossing into Mr. Rumball's 

 fields, and the narrow belt of trees which forms the framework of one of the 

 most beautiful parks in Essex, hounds were delayed by the park palings for 

 a minute before reaching Beachetts, where the run was virtually over, in 

 spite of showing a line up to Coopersale House. Mr. H.J. Miller, riding 

 " Merrylegs," a pony belonging to Mr. George Dawson, went remarkably well 

 in this run, while Mr. George Sewell on his big raking thoroughbred 

 chestnut mare took a line of his own, with a commanding position all 

 through. Jim, following him over a very high bank, had a nasty fall, 

 and was black and blue for a week afterwards. 



The run of the season with the Essex Hounds, and some affirm the 

 best they have ever had, took place on Saturday, March 22nd, after the 

 annual meeting had been previously held at the Green Man, Harlow. 



No one seemed to have the slightest idea where the first draw would be. 

 Some speculated that they would go to the right for Moor Hill ; others said 

 a quick thing from the rough fields near Barnsley's might leave all in the 

 lurch who were not at the meet ; while the suggestion of Mark Hall and 

 Weir Hatches found many adherents ; but few, I trow, ever anticipated 

 that, after a sharp three-mile trot, which shook off all the foot people, they 

 would find themselves on the north-east side of Harlow Park at twelve 

 o'clock. 



Scarce had hounds been put in, when a fox came out on the Latton side, 

 right under Colonel AUsopp's feet, but, evidently frightened, beat a hasty 

 retreat. " Tally-ho, back ! " from the stentorian lips of the gallant Colonel, 

 put some 200 riders and their steeds into a quiver of excitement. Person- 

 ally I know no more exciting moment in a day's hunting than the first 

 whimper of a hound or view of a fox ; for has not sad experience taught one 

 that unless you do get a start with the lady pack, when there is a scent, 



