4,8 THE ETON COLLEGE HUNT. 



Brent proved no obstacle to the whips and several of the Field, 

 who courageously plunging in swam across. One lucky individual 

 got two young ladies to row him across." This hare crossed two 

 more streams, and was eventually ahnndonr^d owing to the owner 

 of a nursery garden, into which hounds had run their beaten 

 hare, turning the hounds off his land. The run lasted three 

 hours. 



On April 15th, 1886, there is recorded an interesting agree- 

 ment with Lock, which throws some light on the financial 

 management of the pack. Barnett agreed to the hunt paying 

 Lock ^84 for the keep and food of a pack between eighteen and 

 twenty-two couples of hounds. This did not include extra 

 expenses and only referred to the Easter Half. It also mentions 

 that the expenses generally amount to nearly £40, which seems 

 to show that Lock did very well considering he was only burdened 

 with them for about twelve weeks. 



Mr. Claud Luttrell, a prominent beagler in those times, 

 writes : 



*' Barnard made me a whip after a long exercise with the 

 beagles, with Harry Boden and myself whipping in ; my hound 

 language, which I had learnt from my father's old huntsman 

 Tom Sebright, decided Barnard in my favour, and the other two 

 whips were Willoughby and Barnett. 



" I am writing this letter with photographs of that year's 

 beagle group on the wall in front of me ; Barnard has a hound 

 called Landlord in his lap — a light-coloured hound who helped 

 us to kill more hares than any other hound — wonderful nose and 

 to drive like a foxhound. I have Gamble in my lap, and I can't 

 remember the names of the others who appear in the group ; the 

 prominent members of the hunt who are in the photograph are 

 Guy Nickalls, R. C. Gosling and his brother Willie, Tattersall, 

 Holland, Christian, Pechell, Green, Lord Montagu, Crum- 

 Ewing, Dickinson, Vernon and Stratton. 



** The beagles were kept at Lock's Turkish Baths, and old 

 Lock used to welcome us back at the end of the day in his 

 bathing drawers — he had a huge stomach and wore very small 

 drawers, so was rather an unconventional kennel huntsman in 

 appearance, but the hounds were very fond of him, and his 

 kennel management was excellent. His son, who was a famous 

 runner, used to help him. The kennels were half way down the 

 Higfh Street, and the whips used to stand in the street ' after 

 12 ' nractising cracking their wips, much to their own 

 edification if not to that of the other frequenters of the 

 street. 



