CHAPTER XLVIII 



A GOSSIP ON HUNTING MEN 



I DO not suppose that William Somervile, the poet of 

 " The Chace," is much read nowadays, though, doubtless, his 

 poems lie among the neglected classics in the libraries of 

 most country houses. Yet he can lay better claim than any 

 other bard to the title of " Laureate of the Hunting-field," 

 and he was a royal good sportsman to boot. " A squire, 

 well born and six foot high," is his own description of 

 himself to his brother poet, Allan Ramsay ; and among 

 the squires of his native Warwickshire he held a foremost 

 place. For his estates brought him in;^i5oo a year — a 

 rental equivalent to at least ;^4000 in the present day. A 

 jovial soul he was, too, with a heart as big as his body, 

 generous to a fault, and free-handed with his money. 

 William Somervile, like many good sportsmen of the 

 same type, ran through his patrimony before he was forty. 

 He died in 1742, and was buried at Wotton, near Henley- 

 in-Arden. 



No one has depicted with more animation and spirit 

 than Somervile the opening of the hunting season ; and 

 there are at any rate three lines of his which are familiar to 

 all educated sportsmen, if only through Mr Jorrocks's 

 emendation : — 



" My hoarse-sounding Horn 

 Invites thee to the Chace, the Sport of Kings ; 

 Image of War, without its Guih." 



" The sport of kings " is nowadays more often applied 

 to the Turf, in the absence of Royalty from the hunting- 

 field. English statesmen, too, no longer ride to hounds 

 as they once did. Golf seems to have more charms for 

 Ministers than hunting. Time was when Premiers and 



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