260 COVERT-SIDE SKETCHES. 



must be owned, is very different from ordinary stag-liunting 

 from the cart, and, could it be always carried out, would, per- 

 haps, be the perfection of sport, as not only the hunters, but 

 the hunted, may enjoy themselves therein ; but deer that have 

 arrived at this pitch of tameness seldom run well, except it is 

 to go home, and we may, I think, put Princess down, even after 

 her six months' liberty, as the exception which proves the rule ; 

 in fact, I have heard ]\ir. IsTevill say that he was forced to keep 

 away from the deer he intended to hunt, or they became so tame 

 that they would not run. This anecdote will, I have no doubt, 

 recall to many of my readers the beautiful legend so exquisitely 

 rendered into verse by Wordsworth, of the White Doe of 

 Eyalstone, who recognizes her former mistress after years of 

 absence, and tends to prove that the old legend very probably 

 had some foundation in fact. Mr. Nevill, at any rate, has 

 proved that domesticated deer are capable of strong affection 

 and have tenacious memories. 



It may be urged that I have so far said little in commenda- 

 tion of hunting carted deer, save its being an easily accessible 

 sport for those who have little time to spare, and are anxious to 

 make as certain of a gallop, when out, as they possibly can. 

 When, however, conducted on a grand scale, there is an 

 amount of pomp and ceremony about it which, could we but 

 divest ourselves of the absurdity of enlarging a creature merely 

 for the sake of catching him again, well befits the state of a 

 royal recreation, where everything may be reduced to a certain 

 amount of order beforehand, and a haughty monarch not find 

 himself reduced to the mortification of having to ride in the 

 rear of a miscellaneous ruck, because, being on the wrong side 

 of the covert, he chanced to get a bad start ; in fact, if such 

 sport is in place anywhere, it is when employed as a means of 

 recreation for a monarch, who would, perchance, be somewhat 

 out of place in the crush of a start from Ashby Pastures, or 

 amid the rocks and sloughs of Exmoor. In order that my 

 readers may form some idea of it at its best, I quote the de- 



