THE LIFE OF A SPORTSMAN 175 



what may be termed a fox-hunting country, and he had 

 seen some fine runs in it. A criterion of the strength of 

 it, he used to say, might be ascertained by the fact, that 

 not only did the Oxford livery stable-keepers charge a 

 third more for horses ridden over it by the gownsmen than 

 they did for those ridden over the hill country, but the 

 calculation of falls, by the riders of them, was in the pro- 

 portion of three to one in favour of the vale ; that is to 

 say, there were three falls in the vale, to one in the hill 

 country. But the Northamptonshire side of the country, 

 he used to say, cannot be ridden over without falls by a 

 man who is determined to be with hounds. 



There was likewise another country which he had had 

 a taste of when at Oxford, and that was what was called 

 the Vale of White Horse, adjoining to the Craven country ; 

 and, although in the county of Berks, some of its best 

 covers were within easy reach of Oxford. He liked parts 

 of that country much ; being a dairy country, it abounded 

 in fine large grass fields, and he was told that such parts 

 of it strongly resembled Leicestershire. He had also a 

 regard for it, on another consideration. In a fine run from 

 Pusey Firs, he was one of only five who cleared the Rosey 

 Brook, himself taking the lead upon Achilles, although, 

 as somewhat of a take off from the merit of it, it had been 

 leaped, nearly in the same place, by Mr. Barry Price, 

 upon his famous horse called Monarch, a few days before 

 the said Mr. Barry Price being eighteen stone plum 

 weight in the scales. But the Rosey Brook is, in most 

 places, a very serious affair. 



Our hero, up to this period, had had but a slight taste 

 of Warwickshire, and this at two of its least inviting fix- 

 tures ; namely, Wolford Wood and Witchford Wood, 

 almost the only two covers within possible reach of Ox- 

 ford men ; roughish places, both of them, but often hold- 

 ing, as most rough places do, very capital foxes. But 

 Frank Raby had heard enough of Warwickshire to induce 

 him to make it his election for his debut on the fox- 

 hunter's stage, so sent his stud to Stratford-on-Avon, the 

 headquarters of the Hunt ; and arrived there himself, in 

 his travelling chaise, on the evening of the fourth of 

 November, anno Domini, 1803. 



He found a highly finished gentleman at the head of 

 this establishment, in the person of Mr. Corbet, of Sun- 

 dorue Castle, Shropshire, who himself sustained the 



