70 THE HUNTIN(; FIELD 



that he must necessarily make a good Huntsman ; such is far 

 from the case, at least far from being a necessary consequence. 

 Indeed, on this point, none are more sensible than servants 

 themselves. We have known several first-rate Whips who 

 have declined Huntsmen's places, fearing they might not 

 succeed, and have to retrograde in life, a proceeding that is 

 always disagreeable. The observation of most sportsmen will 

 supply them with instances of first-rate Whips making first- 

 rate failures as Huntsmen ; again they will be able to point to 

 Whippers-in, who have shone far more with the horn than they 

 did with the couples. 



Still it is a good principle of Mr. Beckford's, who says : — 



" Your first Whipper-in being able to hunt the hounds 

 occasionally, will answer a good purpose ; it will keep your 

 Huntsmen in order : they are very apt to be impertinent when 

 they think you cannot do without them." 



A Whip may come up on an emergency, and do a brilliant 

 thing ; but as one swallow does not make a summer, so does 

 not one dashing act make a Huntsman. Some men, doubtless, 

 are born to be Whips, others to be Huntsmen. Upon this 

 point we may vouch the authority of Mr. Delme Radcliffe, an 

 ex-Master of Fo.xhounds, and an author to boot : — 



" No one," says he, "could ever have seen old Tom Ball, 

 formerly Whipper-in to Lord Tavistock, without feeling that 

 he must have been born a Whipper-in. George Mountford 

 would readily admit that, but for Tom, man}- and many a fox 

 might have escaped his skill, which fell a victim to Old Ball's 

 sagacity, his knowledge of the animal and his line. Patiently 

 he would sit by a covert side, where, by his o-wn Hue, he had 

 arrived about as soon as the sinking fox ; there would he view, 

 perhaps, a brace or more away, without the motion of a muscle, 

 till his practised eye would recognize t/ie hunted fox, and then 

 would blithe Echo and other wood nymphs be startled by the 

 scream which would resound his knell, and, like the war-cry of 



