206 THE MEYNELL HOUNDS. [1861 



had a good gallop of fifty minutes round Mickleover, and 

 in the end, Fairmaid, Primrose, and Rosalind followed 

 their fox over the wall into the yard in front of the 

 Asylum, and killed him. The master presented the head 

 to the establishment. There is an old story told of a 

 lunatic, who, from his window in the asylum, saw a man 

 fishing, and beckoned to him, saying — 



" I say, you come in here with me ! " 



Perhaps the inmates of Mickleover think the same 

 thing when they see us careering about under their walls. 



An account of this day was published at the time. It 

 says — 



Thursday, February 1th. — The day was what the most ardent fox-hunter or 

 " rider out " could desire. The wind soft and inviting, the sun shining gently, 

 but not glaring, and the dewdrop, so much dreaded by huntsmen, twt hanging on 

 the thorn. Punctual to a moment the hounds appeared before Radburne 

 Hall, and a most lovely sight it was. I do not know a more appropriate 

 meet for a pack of fox-hounds. Radburne Hall, the seat of E. S. Chandos- 

 Pole, the greatest of our Derbyshire squires, is situated on an eminence, 

 overlooking the beautiful vale which surrounds it. Built about the time of 

 Queen Anne, its entrance is approached by a wide flight of stone steps, accord- 

 ing to the style of that period. On this flight of steps stood the worthy 

 squire and his wife, inviting with true English hospitality all comers to his festive 

 board, and truly may it be said of him, as the song says of " the true old English 

 gentleman, one of the olden time," that, while he fed the rich, he never forgot 

 the poor. Around him stood, or sat, a large party of ladies, bewitchingly 

 dressed, and taking full advantage of that latitude in attire which the costume of 

 the period allows ; hats of all shape, from the " pork-pie " to the " helmet," 

 adorned with feathers of every variety and hue, from the heron's wing to the bird 

 of paradise ; their stockings and petticoats of McDougall's latest shades, most 

 modestly, yet artistically displayed. Below them, amid some magnificent oaks, 

 which for centuries have withstood the rude blast of the tempest, or the axe of 

 the " prodigal heir," we saw the hounds, with shining coats and wistful eyes, 

 eager for the fray. How many changes have taken place since I last chronicled 

 their doings in your columns under my present signature. The excellent master, 

 Mr. Meynell Ingram, was still there, as kind and courteous as ever, but the three 

 brothers, the kennel servants, whom a witty senator, alluding to a celebrated 

 restaurant in Paris, once described as "the three Provincial Brothers," were 

 no longer present. Death had been busy amongst them, and though their names 

 are still Leedham, in two cases the brother's son succeeds the brother. Tom 

 Leedham, who was formerly whip, is now huntsman. The mantle of the old 

 prophet has fallen most worthily on him, and a better sportsman never fed 

 or hunted hounds. This day, being the day on which the aimual Hunt Ball at 

 Derby was held, an unusually large field was present. Of the regular members of 

 the Hunt few were absent. Lord Stanhope, the Hon. E. and W. Coke, Mr. 

 Blakiston (? Sir Mathew), Mr. Okeover, Messrs. Jessop, Messrs. Clay, the young 



