2 54 IRiNno IRecoIlections an& XTuit Stories 



Billesdon, where he Hved for some time, but is now 

 settled at Ragdale, in the Quorn country. 



The oldest gentleman in the Cottesmore district, 

 and one of, if not the best preserver of foxes 

 in the country, is Sir Henry Fludyer. He is in his 

 ninetieth year, and even now loves to come out on 

 foot and, with his glasses, watch the hounds find their 

 fox at Wardley Wood — his own covert — one of the 

 best preserves in Rutlandshire, and always a sure 

 find. The last time I saw and spoke to Sir Henry 

 last season he was well and hearty as possible, and 

 looked like living to see his hundredth birthday. 

 No one wishes he may do it more than myself. 

 The baronet is quite my idea of the old English 

 gentleman that we see so few of now — a type that 

 seems to have died out. He was originally Rector 

 of Thistleton, and I should think certainly the only 

 man living who saw Tom Cribb and Molyneux, the 

 black, fight for the Championship of England at 

 Thistleton Gap in 1811. But I must not attempt 

 to mention all the people I have met in the hunting- 

 field out with the Cottesmore, especially as I hope 

 to say a word or two in another chapter about 

 the Ouorn. 



Before finishino- this, I must relate a true 

 and interesting story that happened in the days 



