LEICESTERSHIRE 159 



occuiTence. During the last year that Mr. Smith hunted Leicester- 

 shire he had a run of nineteen miles, point blank, which is well 

 known by the name of the Belvoir day. It so happened that the 

 pace was so good and the country so severe, that no one was with 

 the hounds towards the last except Mr. Smith, and that well-known 

 performer over a country or over a course, Mr. John White. It also 

 so happened that they came to a fence so high and so strong that 

 there was only one place that appeared at all practicable, and this 

 was in the line Mr. White was taking. The consequence w^as, 

 Mr. Smith was obliged to turn to this place, expecting to find 

 Mr. White well over ; but instead of this, he found him what is 

 called " well bull-finched " — his horse and himself sticking fast in 

 the hedge. "Get on," says Mr. Smith. "I cannot," said Mr. 

 White, "I am fast." — "Bam the spurs into him," exclaimed Mr. 

 Smith, " and pray get out of the way." — " D — n it," said Mr. White, 

 " if you are in such a hurry, why don't you ride at me, and charge 

 me? " Mr. Smith did charge him, and sent him and his horse into the 

 next field, when away they w^ent again as if nothing had happened! 



Those \Nho know nothing of Mr. White will naturally exclaim — 

 surely this man will never give up hunting if he has the means to 

 pursue it ! Mr. White has not been regularly at Melton for these 

 last three or four years, but he told me a short time since he should 

 start again one of these days. He was three years there in Mr. 

 Smith's time, and seven with the other masters of hounds ; and 

 I heard the very high compliment paid to him by a very excellent 

 judge — namely, that he never was otit in his life, whether he Weed his 

 horse or not, that he did not try to get to hounds. He is become very 

 fond of the sod, and much devoted to shooting — preserving no less 

 than forty thousand acres of ground ; but I will answer for it he 

 never laid a trap for a fox ; and I hope we shall see him in the field 

 again. 



I do so reverence a sportsman, whatever may be his cast in life — 

 whether mounting his horse from the steps of his mansion-house, or 

 walking from behind his counter to go to covert — that I never miss 

 an opportunity of noticing him. Of the latter description is Mr. 

 George Marriott, of INIelton Mowbray, and I have no hesitation in 

 asserting that if all the ground George Marriott has travelled over 



