20 NIMROD'S HUNTING TOUR 



There is a very "promising young one " now at Christ Church; 

 and well bred to go over a country — the eldest son of Lord Forester. 

 He was v/ell entered, when very youngs by his father, who kept a 

 pack of harriers for him as soon as he could ride, and in a country 

 (Shropshire) where much is to be learnt. 



Sir Thomas Mostyn has no subscription to his hounds, neither has 

 he any uniform for his Hunt, any farther than that those of his friends 

 who like it wear plain silver buttons on their red coats, with the 

 letters M.H. engraved on them. 



No part of Leicestershire is finer than is some part of the Chipping 

 Warden country, particularly about Wormleighton, bearing away 

 for Itchington, Ladbroke, Southam, Shugborough, &c., till it joins 

 the Warwickshire on one side, and the Pytchley on the other ; but 

 in some parts of it the fences are almost impracticable. Three years 

 ago (1819), I saw a fine run over this country. We met at Fenny 

 Compton Wharf, on the road from Banbury to Daventry, and, after 

 drawing for about an hour or more, found very unexpectedly in a 

 small patch of gorse not more than an acre of ground. Perhaps 

 fortunately for myself, or my horse, I did not get a start. I was on 

 the ground at the time fastening up my boot, and before I could 

 mount, some of the quick ones had got two fields off with the 

 hounds. When I came to the fences, they were such as I do not 

 care if I never see again ; but when Mr. J, Drake and Sir Henry 

 Peyton first charged them they must have been terrific. Sir Henry, 

 though on old Saladin (a one-eyed horse, for which he gave 450 

 guineas), was knocked backwards twice, and obliged to decline, and 

 get bled. Mr. Drake was more fortunate, and no one caught him, 

 neither did more than two or three see him until the check at 

 Shugborough, six miles, best pace. Tom Penn, Sir Watkin Wynn's 

 pad-groom, was out, and saw the place where Sir Henry got his 

 second fall, and he declared the fence was impracticable. From 

 the check at Shugborough we went on fair terms with our fox to 

 Abdy Wood, in the Pytchley country, where of course his life was 

 saved, as the earths were open. The distance, point-blank, was 

 seventeen miles, and the country particularly strong. Towards the 

 end of the run, a Mr. Griffin, a good kind of rough, hard riding 

 farmer, was of great service. He was on a five-year-old horse, got 



