1868] THE GREAT RADBURNE RUN, 271 



close at their heels as he was wont to do forty years ago ; away for Hulland, 

 Hulland Ward, and on for Black Wall House, where, on a most picturesque 

 hillside, Tom stopped, he " could no further go." He tried to stop his hounds, 

 and blew his horn until it rang through Dovedale. It was too late, for Frolic, as 

 Charles Eaton told me, a great fine bitch that has had whelps, with a chosen few 

 carried the line on through Black Wall Wood, by Atlow village, to within two 

 fields of Atlow Whin. Here an accident occurred which destroyed Miss G. 

 Meynell's hopes of witnessing the finish, and had nearly proved fatal to me : — 

 her groom tallihoed the beaten fox on a dead fallow ; the excitement was awful, 

 we holloaed till we were hoarse. I rode furiously after this animal, nearly stopped 

 my poor horse, only to find that the fox was a shepherd's dog. I returned over 

 the lost ground ; all but a single hound had disappeared. I persevered, however, 

 and, as every villager was agape, I caught them again above Biggin Mill, and 

 between there and Idridgehay, and about two and a half miles from Wirksworth, 

 this gallant fox came to bay under a holly bush. Charles Eaton and that 

 splendid bitch (whatever her name she ought to be called Paragon, and will be 

 the mother of imtold heroes) advanced to the attack. The bitch would not face 

 him singly, and Eaton was driven to finish the run with the butt end of his whip. 

 The other hounds, four and a half couple, did not get up till it was all over. 

 They could not break him up, and, though I cut him open, they could not tear 

 him to pieces. We were a small party, Miss Meynell, Charles Eaton, facile 

 princeps, Sir Thomas Gresley, young George Moore, a nice-looking lad, and 

 your humble servant, and, by this time, seven and a half couple of hounds. 

 Hamar saw some farmers take away nine couples to Kedleston. Allowing for 

 wayfarers, Tom had but a small party, but Sir Thomas and George Moore 

 overtook him with our forlorn hope before they got to Kedleston. Miss Meynell 

 and I met with unbounded hospitality at a small farmhouse — excellent gruel for 

 horses, and hay too ; tea, black and green, with a taste of fine old rum in it, 

 teacakes, etc., etc. We could not between us raise money enough to evince our 

 sense of Mrs. Booth's entertainment ; such a cheery old lady ; had been married 

 fifty years ; had got twelve children, no end of grandchildren, and her hair was 

 as black as a raven's wing. The retracing of our steps (the run was no joke), 

 but to bring horses that had done thirty miles in the run twenty-five miles to 

 their stables, Mc labor, hoc opus ; however, we were in brave spirits ; we lost two 

 miles by going into BraOsford town instead of crossing the road at the mill. We 

 passed Ednaston before six, and, though often too tired to trot, Miss Meynell 

 reached Longford before half-paot six, carrying with her the trophy of the run. 

 I got home before eight, dined on half the wing of a chicken, won seven points 

 at whist, two games at billiards, easy, and went to bed, but not to sleep, I was 

 too excited. 



In this year the South Stafford Hunt, as it now is, was 

 started. Lords Alexander and Berkeley Paget went to 

 see Mr. Hugo Meynell to ask if he would allow the Hunt 

 to draw any part of the outside of his country. The result 

 was that he agreed to lend the country from Black Slough 

 to Ingestre, including Beaudesert and Cannock Chace, 

 provided one of " the Pagets " became master, which Lord 

 Henry Paget, their brother, did, for five years. He was 



