212 NIMROD'S HUNTING TOUR 



hounds, which by all accounts was a tickler ; but I much admired 

 the modest, though sportsmanlike, description given of it by the master 

 of the pack, in a letter to myself : — " I am sorry," said the Baronet, 

 "you were obliged to go yesterday, as I trust w^e are getting into a 

 vein of sport. The first half hour to-day a most awful pace, from 

 Babbins wood, over a very fair but deep country ; and I shall curtail 

 what I could make into a long rigmarole account, by stating that at 

 the end of one hour and forty minutes I had in my hand the finest 

 bit of (what some people call) vermin I ever touched in my life. 

 We killed him between Chirk Castle and Llangollen ; and the 

 connoisseurs were good enough to say the gentlemen (the dog pack) 

 did their business meritoriously." This sporting Baronet's modesty 

 did not end here. He said he was never so ridden away from in his 

 life as he w^as (as indeed were all the field) on this day by Mr. 

 Mytton, on his Hit-or-Miss mare ; and I understand that Will 

 Staples could scarcely go the pace with her. 



On the 24th met Sir Eichard Puleston's hounds at Penley Green 

 and drew what are called "the Duke's Woods" — the property of 

 the late Duke of Bridgewater. The late Lord Bridgewater behaved 

 in a very liberal manner to Sir Eichard, by having excellent rides 

 made through these extensive coverts, which make them very useful 

 to hounds ; but as far as sport or pleasure is concerned, they are but 

 ill calculated to afford much of either. 



It is necessary I should say something more of Sir Bellingham 

 Graham's kennel, which generally contains from fifty to sixty couples 

 of hunting hounds. His dog pack comes under the denomination of 

 a grand pack of hounds ; in stature quite equal to Mr. Ward's, 

 though a lighter sort of hound. They are very close hunters, extremely 

 patient with a baffling scent, and their pace something approaching 

 to awful. They are larger, however, by the admission of their owner, 

 than is desirable in so close a country as Shropshire. The bitch 

 pack — the Ladies — are SirBellingham's favourites, and in my humble 

 opinion perfect. The dash of the fox-hound is conspicuous here ; 

 and to see these bitches pushing to their game is to me one of the 

 finest sights this world can afford. Their form is particularly 

 elegant ; and though they don't say so much about it as the dog-pack, 

 they are not deficient in tongue. So fond is Sir Bellingham (always 



