76 THE MEYNELL HOUNDS. 



making a horse take off exactly where they wanted him 

 to. When it is borne in mind that the Squire of Radburne 

 has not walked under sixteen stone for the last twenty 

 years, and now probably can add another two stone to the 

 burden his horse has to carry, it is a wonderful performance 

 of both man and horse that they should be able to go 

 where the hounds go. Of course such hunters as he rode 

 could not be picked up for nothing, nor without a very 

 substantial consideration. It is an open secret that 

 Thunder (the horse on which he was painted in the picture 

 which faces this chapter, and which was presented to him 

 by the Hunt when he gave up the Meynell hounds) cost 

 five hundred pounds. But he refused seven hundred 

 pounds for him, and well he might, for there was but one 

 Thunder. He was a big, quality, bay horse, rode like 

 a pony, could jump anything, could really race, and could 

 go all day. It would probably be difficult for his owner 

 to say what was the best run he ever saw, but he delights 

 in talking about a day with his own hounds in Mr. 

 Coryton's country on Dartmoor, while a smile invariably 

 lights up his features as he tells you of a gallop with Sir 

 Watkin Wynn's hounds from Aldersey to the Peckforton 

 Hills. 



It is not altogether surprising that his daughter, who 

 appears in the presentation picture as a little girl, should 

 tread in his footsteps, for the Poles are " hunting bred." 

 But it is surprising and a pleasure to see her going over 

 a country without the least fuss or flurry, but simply 

 following hounds wherever they may go. She resembles 

 Miss Mildred FitzHerbert (now Hon. Mrs. Moncreiff) in 

 her way of riding to hounds more than any one who has 

 been here before or since, and it is doubtful if even she 

 knew more about hunting. Miss Chandos-Pole, like her 

 father, is particularly fond of jumping timber, so much so, 

 in fact, that, when she was quite a little girl, she and Mr. 

 John Hargreaves (who is such an extraordinarily hard 

 man to hounds) used to amuse themselves by reckoning 

 up how many of the low, but strong, gates of the Cattistock 



