4IO 



LEAVES FROM A HUNTING DIARY 



Always a capital piece of road between Brick Kilns and Man Wood — 

 we made the pace and soon overtook two more equestrians.! Reaching 

 the peaceful hamlet of Abbess Roothing, we entered upon a veritable fairy- 

 land ; the rains and gales had done their work, and the road was a carpet of 

 green and gold, which the gigantic elms overhead kept replenishing with 

 their rounded and brilliant yellow leaves, and the sun now breaking out lit 

 up the copper beeches with a thousand tints, and in its rays the hedgerows 

 glistened as if bedecked with myriads of sparkling diamonds, while a lovely 

 rainbow in the far distance lent the finishing touch to the beautiful scene. 

 Horseman after horseman was soon overtaken as we neared the old 

 hostelry of the " King William," which we reached to the tick at 10.30. 



Three miles, and half-an-hour to compass it in— we could take it easy, 

 nor as we approached the tryst, High Roothing Street, were we long in 







^^cg^ 



Garnetts 



doubt as to the lovely apparition who with such grace and skill guided her 

 team of beautiful bays through the crowd. None other but the Countess of 

 Warwick could ever have worn such ravishing attire. A blue tam-o'- 

 shanter ! a light blue cloak, was it velvet, or was it cloth ? I was too shy 

 to venture on a close inspection, everything blue with the exception of a 

 front of rich white satin ; she looked, as she is acknowledged to be, the 

 Queen of the Hunt, for all who ride with the Essex Hounds are proud to do 

 her homage. 



How describe a run when you don't know a yard of the country ? I 

 have said this before, but that does not matter. History always repeats 

 itself. How relate where hounds were at fault, and where and when their 

 individual merits and their huntsman's skill shone out ? For you all came 

 out, brave sirs and fair dames, you'll readily grant me, not to gossip and 



+ Miss Webslcr and Daniel Gingcll ; 



