FROM LATTON PARK TO MATCHING HALL 419 



the house to catch liounds, which bearing at first shghtly to the right, as 

 they dipped over the brow of tlie hill after crossing the lane, turned into 

 the grass on the left, placing both the left and right-hand contingents on 

 equally good terms. The rails were low into the meadow through which 

 flows the North Weald Brook : 



No shallow dug pan with a hurdle to screen it, 



That cocktail imposture the steeplechase brook ; 



But the steep broken banks tell you plain, if you mean it, 



The less you will like it the longer you look. 



But low as they were they gave one good man" and one good horse an 

 imperial crowner. No occasion to disclose the identity of those whose 

 discretion, being greater than their valour, caused them to steer for the gate 

 and the bridge at the bottom of the meadow, and escape what was, perhaps, 

 after all, the biggest jump in the run, but methinks a certain very keen 

 young sportsman f would never have seen, still less gone, after the straying 

 bullocks had not a too intimate knowledge of the country in front tempted 

 him out of his line, and he has since confessed to me that, had he half 

 realised the grand run that was really only just commencing, those bovine 

 monsters would have been left to wander the country at their own sweet 

 will. 



But this was by no means an isolated case of thinking Weald Coppice 

 would see the finish of the burst over the steeplechase course, for it was 

 within a stone's throw before hounds, slightly overrunning it, cast them- 

 selves in a beautiful circle, recovered the line and turned in the direction of 

 Canes Farm. Crossing the road and passing to the right of Mr. Hart's 

 house, we had two heavy fields in succession before leaving Canes W^ood 

 (through which our fox had gone), hounds following without affording us 

 the smallest chance of taking a pull at our reins. Single file down the 

 headland, and open order over the next two fences into the root field, and 

 pointing straight for Sewald's Hall, we embarked upon a sequence of sound 

 grass enclosures, through one of which runs a small but treacherous brook 

 — if you knew the right spot it was a leap for a pony ; if you missed the 

 place it was a test for a good horse, and lost more than one man the pride 

 of place which he held up to that point, for hounds were running too fast 

 to admit of a refusal, still less of a fall. 



Running on at a great pace towards Wynter's (by-the-bye, the hunting 

 crop that was left in the fence below it was recovered next day), hounds 

 came to their first and only check behind the Grange— a check that was 

 fatal to the resolution of half-a-score of sportsmen, who got hung up by 

 some nasty fences in the meadows to the right of the house, until Mr. Peel 

 discovered an outlet. Those who went in the direct line of hounds secured 

 an easy outlet through a couple of gates. Leaving Wynter's behind, the 

 field began to lengthen out, for although hounds were on unmitigated 

 plough, they were going faster than ever, and fences were coming thicker 

 and certainly bhnder — one out of a lane below the small spinney, which 

 hounds touched some mile from the road, losing a very hard man the rest 

 of the run. 



Not touching Belgium Springs, although they ran close up to it, hounds 

 kept swinging away to the left, leaving those on the right of them hope- 

 lessly in the rear. Getting close up to the road, hounds tore along parallel 

 with it up the furrowed plough, fairly tailed out, and crossing to the right 

 of Mr. Wederell's Farm, headed for Matching Park. The field galloping 

 all they knew to keep near them, it was absolutely impossible to take note 



* Captain Bruce. t Mr. Hart, junr. 



