MR. WARD'S HOUNDS 81 



good, as, by the huntsman's account, they have tasted forty-seven 

 brace this season ! Their kennel is at Hungerford, where Mr. Ward 

 resides in the hunting season, and vy^hich is in the centre of the 

 Craven Hunt. 



In a subseqvient letter, Nimrod says — When I last saw Mr. 

 Ward's hounds the elements were in arms against them. Deter- 

 mined, however, to see them under more favorable auspices, I fixed 

 on November as most likely to afford them, and arrived at Hunger- 

 ford on the 20th of the month. He then proceeds : — 



The Craven country has been hunted by Mr. Ward for eleven 

 seasons, with a subscripton of about lOOOZ. per annum to his hounds. 

 This sum must leave a large balance to be paid by himself, as he 

 always hunts four, and sometimes five days a week, and has from 

 seventeen to twenty horses for himself and his men. 



Mr. Ward may very justly be called the father of fox-hunting, 

 having been a master of fox-hounds fifty-four years — namely, twenty- 

 two in Oxfordshire and Warwickshire, thirteen in Northamptonshire, 

 six in the New Forest, and eleven in Berkshire. 



It has generally been supposed that when Mr. Ward was in 

 Oxfordshire, his hounds were at the highest pitch of perfection; 

 and by some it has been asserted that when he gave up that country 

 he gave up a throne. In Northamptonshire, however, his hounds 

 had a fine opportunity of distinguishing themselves, and afforded 

 some capital sport. One run, in particular, will never be forgotten 

 in that country. They found their fox at Marston Wood, and killed 

 him at Skeffington in Leicestershire — a point-blank distance of 

 eighteen miles, but at least doubled by the acute angles the fox 

 made in his course. That fine sportsman, General Harry Warde, 

 was one who saw it, and has marked it accurately on the map : 

 but Mr. Ward was (fortunately for his horse) absent at a sale of 

 hounds. 



When Mr. Ward was in Oxfordshire, his pack afforded one very 

 remarkable day's sport. They found their fox at Ardley Thorns 

 near Bicester, and killed him beyond Chipping Norton, after having 

 gone through no less than thirty-two parishes in the run. The 

 hounds and horses remained at Chapel House for the night, where 

 rather a ludicrous occurrence took place : Mr. Ward gave orders 



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