2 REMINISCENCES OF A HUNTSMAN 



from the collar, moved on, and I became the owner of a dog. 

 Grumbo was the son of Bull, whose full-length portrait, by 

 Challon, ornaments my dining-room, in honour of his race. 

 Grumbo was of the bull and mastiff breed ; his sire, the property 

 of my brother, Mr. Augustus Berkeley, perhaps one of the 

 gamest fighting dogs that ever competed for a prize. In addi- 

 tion to his pugnacious propensities, Bull added an amusing 

 inclination to retrieve cats from whatever situation they might 

 at the time be in; and my brother, then fresh from sea, 

 used to keep him in continual practice. In walking down a 

 street, his master had only to show him a cat sitting in a shop- 

 window, and presently, at the distance of some hundred yards, 

 to make him a sign. The office received, Bull would trot back, 

 with the utmost coolness, to the shop-door ; and whether the cat 

 still sat in the window, or had removed to the counter or lap 

 of its mistress, made no difference, Bull seized it with a grab, 

 and making a leisurely retreat, shaking the cat all the time, to 

 keep clear of the claws, he might be seen returning, followed by 

 all sorts of missiles pitch-poling along the pavement in his 

 wake. Cat-hunting with Bull by night, even in London, was a 

 favourite recreation : although too young to participate in the 

 amusement myself, I greedily devoured the history of it on the 

 following morning ; how many cats were killed, what numbers 

 of helpless and coat-imprisoned watchmen thrown or knocked 

 down, and all the escapes and hair-breadth chances incident on 

 springing rattles. When I was a child, the combat between 

 boxers in the ring was in its glory ; and, hearing them talked of 

 so much, I cut out card figures of Gregson and the Game 

 Chicken, Jem and Tom Belcher, Dutch Sam, and all the fistic 

 heroes of the day, and made them fight " in mimic battle o'er 

 again." Unfortunately, or luckily for me perhaps, ultimately, the 

 former my brothers, Henry and Augustus, were much addicted 

 to sparring ; and I have, as a child, stood between Jackson's 

 knees, and hit at his hand for a quarter of an hour together, to 

 teach me the straight blow. To be taught the art of sparring 

 only is no use ; and I would not advise any of the rising sports- 



