1861] KILL IN MICKLEOVER ASYLUM. 207 



FitzHerberts, Mr. Bradshaw, and many others, both of high and low degree. 

 The neighbouring packs, too, had their representatives— the three Lords Paget 

 from Beaudesert, Mr. Colvile and Mr. Pole Shaw from the Atherstone, two 

 Colonels Buller and their brother from the North Staffordshire, or, as they are 

 familiarly called, " the crockery dogs," with many other " tip-top provincials," 

 each determined to ride, each resolved to be first. The hounds being 

 put into the Pool Tail, or Decoy, as it is sometimes called, a fox was 

 immediately found. Crossing the brook at a bridge, all got an excellent start ; 

 bearing up towards Trusley at a rattling pace, and turning to the right over the 

 Dalbury brook (an awkward jump), he skirted Langley Gorse, swept round, 

 leaving Langley on the left and lladburne Rectory on the right, through the 

 Park, by the Lodge, and, at last, by some unaccountable accident, we lost him near 

 the bottoms, which adjoin the Mickleover osier beds; a very pretty twenty 

 minutes, the scent excellent, and the pace first rate. 



After a little coffee-housing, not the least agreeable part of the day's amuse- 

 ment to many, we drew Mr. Leaper Newton's osiers, nearly a quarter of a mile 

 long. In almost the last bush, or perhaps on a dry bank adjoining, up jumped a 

 fox, the hounds getting away close to his brush, along the Mickleover side of the 

 osier bed ; they went at a rattling pace nearly up to the Derby and Uttoxeter 

 road ; here, headed by a gi-ain cart, he made a double back across the Mickle- 

 over brook in the direction of Wheat Hill, but, inclining to the right, passed 

 through the grounds of Miss Trowell's suburban villa, and actually went into the 

 precincts of the Borough of Derby, within a quarter of a mile of the county gaol. 

 But, seemingly dreading that he might be there incarcerated, to give an account 

 of his lawless doings and marauding acts, he proceeded on his way, leaving 

 Parson Abney's house close on his left ; crossed the Derby and Burton road to the 

 left of Littleover, on to Normanton, like pigeons they flew, leaving Sunny Hill 

 (where once Mr. Breary kept his celebrated pack of harriers) on his left, skirting 

 Hell Meadows, passed through Sir Seymour Blane's garden at the Pastures, again 

 crossed the Derby and Burton road, then on over a splendid country to Mickle- 

 over Hill, on which stands the county lunatic asylum. Getting on to some 

 hurdles, he jumped over the wall and was killed within the lunatic enclosure. A 

 beautiful finish. They ran him from scent to view, three hounds coursing him 

 the last quarter of a mile, and for the honour of Derbyshire let it be said, Mr- 

 Coke of Longford gave the first "who- whoop." Time, fifty minutes, Distance, 

 measured on the Ordnance map, nine miles and three-quarters. 



Now, listen to me, ye Melton swells and Tailby men, not one ploughed field 

 did we cross, nor one head of cattle or sheep to stain the ground did we see. 

 Though rejoicing at our victory, I could not but regret the death of so gallant a 

 fox. Alas ! poor reynard, driven to madness by his relentless pursuers, he sought 

 an asylum in a madhouse, but that asylum proved no place of protection for him. 

 May some of us, when our time comes, have better luck. The obsequies having 

 been performed, we wended our way homewards; but how changed was the 

 scene from that gay pageant with which the morning opened. Jaded hounds and 

 wearied horses, dirty coats and scratched faces prevailed. The excellent master, 

 with head tied up in a blue handkerchief (having lost his hat in the fray), looked 

 for all the world like " the Host " in the engraving illustrating Chaucer's 

 " Pilgrimage to Canterbury," and Lord Alexander Paget was somewhat hurt, I 

 fear, by a nasty fall into a road. To say who " went best " when all did their 

 best to " go well " might cause unnecessary pain and heart-burning ; but you, 

 whose columns are ever open to record gallant deeds in boots and breeches, Avill, 

 I know, be no less willing to chronicle those that are performed in the less 



