THE AMALGAMATION. 27 



Duke of Beaufort (then Lord Worcester), Mr. E. P. Rawnsley 

 and Mr. G. H. Longman. Mr. E. P. Rawnsley has written the 

 following long and interesting letter about beagling at Eton in 

 his day, containing a story which shows that even Head Masters 

 are not incorruptible at times : 



" When I went to Eton in 1864 there were two packs of 

 beagles, Collegers' which hunted east of Slough Road, and 

 Oppidans' which hunted west of Slough Road. Hares in the 

 Oppidans' country were very scarce indeed, and hunting 

 depended on an occasional bag-fox, which ought to have been 

 tabooed, and a drag, the latter a poor game for us youngsters 

 who toiled along and never saw a hound after first field. The 

 packs were amalgamated in 1866. The Oppidans' pack 

 had been kept up town, very poor kenneli and \;adly done. 

 After the amalgamation the kennels were at the end of the 

 Playing Fields, and more trouble was taken that the hounds 

 were better done. There was no hunting before Christmas, 

 only after, till the end of March. At best the hounds were only 

 a scratch lot, different boys getting their people to keep one 

 or a couple most of the year. I whipped in to F. Johnstone 

 in the spring of 1869 ; his father, I think, was then Master of 

 what we now call the Derwent, and he knew all about it and 

 was quite good at the game. One whip was an Oppidan, Ine 

 other a Colleger. I don't think my Colleger had ever been out 

 hunting before, and, as Johnstone expected his hounds turned 

 when he wanted them, I had nearly all the work to do ; cracked 

 up in consequence. It was very hard work in those days; we 

 could not start till after Absence, had then to run to the meet, 

 get a hunt and run home again in time for lock-up, never having 

 more than three hours to do it all in, no allowance being made 

 to the whips. 



'' I remember one day in particular, Johnstone was not 

 out and I was hunting hounds the far side of Langley ; we 

 had quite a good run and killed — a great event in those days. 

 Just as we had taken off pads and mask, up jumped a fresh hare, 

 away the pack went with a burning scent, and it was a long 

 time before we could get at them to stop them. It was getting 

 dark, and quite five miles from home, no chance of getting in 

 for lock-up, but we had the hare ! So it was duly carried, such 

 an object it looked, without feet or ears and stiff as a stake, and 

 left with our compliments at the Head's house, the clock struck 

 nine as we stood there. I suppose we were all reported for 

 coming in so late, but we never heard anything more. I suppose 

 the hare was a peace-offering. 



