42 THE MASTER OF HOUNDS 



alluded to as " The Trojans," and Mr. Corbet was often 

 called "The Father of the Trojans." He hunted the 

 whole of Warwickshire, including the Dunchurch 

 and Atherstone countries, without any subscription, 

 excepting five pounds a year from each of the members 

 for earth-stopping, and, as a rule, his kennels contained 

 seventy couples of hounds. As a rider he would never 

 jump if he could help it, though he would gallop as 

 hard as he could along rough lanes and stony roads. 

 This habit did not spring from lack of nerve, for pro- 

 bably it takes more nerve to gallop down a rough lane 

 than to negotiate a bullfinch. Certainly he had many 

 nasty croppers. On one occasion he jumped a gate 

 because he was unable to stop his horse. " I have 

 done more than I meant to do," he quietly remarked at 

 the finish. His civility in the field was a proverb. If 

 a man were seen in the midst of hounds, he would 

 merely call out, " Pray, sir, hold hard ; you will spoil 

 your own sport." When hounds were settled on their 

 fox he would shout, " Now, gentlemen, ride over them ; 

 now ride, and catch them if you can." 



Very different, however, was his huntsman. Will 

 Barrow. In fact, master and man were " as poles 

 asunder." Will's language was not always fit for 

 publication. But as a rider he had few rivals in the 

 annals of horsemansnip. Mr. Childe, of Kinlet, Shrop- 

 shire, commonly known as " The Flying Childe," had 

 been his first Master, and had given him his first 

 lessons. Barrow, Mr. Childe said, was the only servant 

 he ever had or knew fit to trust with his own horses' 

 mouths, having so gentle and good a hand on his 



