24 THE BROCKLESBY HOUNDS. Usi« 



Will Smith had the most perfect of hands, and no horse 

 was known to pull with him. One of the best hunters he 

 ever rode was Nailer, a son of Quicksilver ; he was a hard 

 puller, and very violent with every one but Smith, but in 

 his hands he was gentle enough. Even with him he pre- 

 tended to pull, going with his head turned almost to his 

 rider's toe ; and he wore himself out, long before his time, 

 by his intemperate manner in the hunting-field, jumping 

 his fences far "too big." He was a good-looking chestnut, 

 and the blood was much thought of by North Lincolnshire 

 men. The then Prince of Wales, through Mr. Mat Milton, 

 gave Mr. Richard Nainby, of Barnoldby, four hundred 

 guineas for a bay gelding by Quicksilver, bred by Mr. 

 Phillipson, of Bradley. But Will Smith's favourite was 

 a deep-bodied, short-legged son of Spartacus, called Sir 

 Harry ; he had beautiful action, but was as wild-looking 

 as an untamed Arab. He was bred by Lord Yarborough. 

 Another good horse was Ploughboy, by Hippomenes, who 

 was bred by Mr. Richardson, of Limber, and who carried 

 the huntsman for eight seasons. He had tremendous bone 

 for so w^ell bred a horse, and a curiously prominent eye, 

 but, being short-sighted, he would seldom fly his fences. 

 Will used to say that he feared no fence if he could pull 

 him up and take it standing. Ploughboy came to a curious 

 end. Mr. Tom Brooks, of Croxby, had often wished to 

 ride him, and his wish was fulfilled at last ; but it was 

 also the very last time that Ploughboy went a-hunting. 

 Smith was going away with his fox from Bradley Wood, 

 and he called out to Mr. Brooks to say that his back hurt 

 him, and that Ploughboy was pulling him. His concluding- 

 words were prophetic : " You had best take your ride now, 

 Tom ; old Ploughboy will never hunt another season." 

 Hounds ran at best pace, and Ploughboy was striding 

 along over Healing Field with his head down ; he had 

 just jumped some stifi" posts and rails, when he put his 

 foot in a grip, fell on his chin, breaking his neck, and 

 turning over as dead as a herring. Mr. Brooks was 

 standing over him as the huntsman swept past. " Not 



