THE LIF^E OF A SPORTSMAN 



place, I must tell yon, that the uniform colour — if I may so 

 express myself — of the Atherstone hunt is orange, whereas, 

 you know, that the Quorn men all ride in scarlet. Next, it 

 being known that a number of the Quornites, as Dick Knight 

 called them, had signified their intention of being out with 

 Lord Vernon's hounds, on Tuesday last, at Bosworth, a report 

 had gone abroad that should a good fox be found, there would 

 be a sort of contest for the brush — more properly speaking, 

 for superiority of horsemanship and nerve — between the men 

 in orange and the men in red. This actually took place ; but, 

 my good fellow, Hargrave, how can I find words that will 

 convey to you even a faint description of the interesting scene ? 

 An epicure cannot judge of a dish of meat by the palate of 

 another; a musician must hear the concert he presumes to 

 criticise ; in fact, we can do nothing of this sort by proxy. It 

 is not that the subject is poor, but that my language is 

 incompetent. However, let me try what I can do. 



'The fixture was Bosworth — on the very ground on which 

 Richard in. lost both his crown and his life ; and the field 

 was unusually large for this part of the world, consisting of at 

 least 150 horsemen, amongst whom were about a score of the 

 Quornites on their very best nags. They were easily dis- 

 tinguished, first, by the colour of their coat — for, until I saw 

 them together, I was not aware of the strong contrast between 

 the orange and the red ; and next by the superior form and 

 condition of their horses over the generality of those of our 

 party. Amongst them I particularly noticed Sir Henry 

 Peyton's Watchmaker, a superb horse, the same that you see 

 in the Sporting Magazine, where he is represented clearing 

 a stile and brook with Sir Henry, and setting the whole field. 

 Then there was Mr. Lindon on his famous horse The Clipper, 

 and the celebrated Tom Smith on Jack-o'-Lantern, by Meteor, 

 out of a sister to Tickletoby, said to be the two best horses in 

 Leicestershire, And amongst them were Sir Stephen Glynne 

 and Lord Foley, who are domiciled at Mountsorrel, in the same 

 house with Sir Henry Peyton ; and I noticed George Germaine, 

 Parson Bennett, Forester, cum mult is aliis unknown to you, 

 but all first-raters. Then there was John Raven, Meynell's 

 old huntsman, but now Lord Sefton's, who came to witness the 

 events of this day. And this reminds me, that Lord Sefton 

 himself was in the field with two of the finest horses I ever saw 



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