184 NIMROD'S HUNTING TOUR 



Spaniard, from Cuba, and heir to 30,000/. per annum. He was on a 

 visit to Mr. Shakerley, and, having no estabhshment in England, 

 contented himself with going out with the hounds on a Leamington 

 hack, which he rode gallantly for two days, charging no less than 

 six gates in the time. 



On Saturday the 17th met the Warwickshire at Walton Wood, 

 the seat of Sir John Mordaunt, when a fine day's sport was shewn. 

 There was a burning scent ; and with our first fox the hounds ran 

 away from every one for twenty minutes — the field being obliged to 

 go around to a bridge over a flooded river. We found again about 

 two o'clock, and, after three attempts to go away, he put his head 

 straight for the Edge Hills — going over a very fine country of about 

 ten miles extent. When the hounds got to the Hill— as is too often 

 the case — they got upon a fresh fox ; and having of course beaten 

 the horses over this very severe ground, it was impossible to stop 

 them, and away they went. Mr. Hay followed the line of them till 

 it got quite dark, when, not knowing the country, he was obliged to 

 give up the pursuit ; and though Will Boxall, the whipper-in, 

 succeeded in getting hold of some of them, a part of the pack were 

 out all night. 



It so happened, from the several batHing attempts which this fox 

 made to break from Bowshot Wood — the covert in which he was 

 found — that very few got well away with the hounds. All the 

 Warwickshire old hands were to a man thrown out, and some of 

 them (amongst whom was myself) never knew which way the 

 hounds were gone until all chance of catching them was at an end. 

 Vexatious as this was, it was useless to repine ; but it proves what 

 I have before said, viz. that it is better to go through a covert after 

 hounds at certain times, than to keep outside it with the hope of a 

 good start, which hope may never be realized. 



It was very generally admitted, even by those who went well 

 themselves, that Mr. Francis Holland, Mr. Patrick (a gentleman 

 farmer from Worcestershire) on his famous little mare, Mr. Cockbill, 

 jun., and- Mr. Dews, had the best of this run — Mr. Holland and Mr. 

 Patrick, perhaps, having the cream of it. Mr. Meyrick went 

 gallantly on his favourite old horse Jack, but having over-marked 

 him a little in crossing a deep wheat-field, he rather declined at the 



