LORD STAFFORD'S MASTERSHIP. 59 



Momlow Hecath Gorse about four o'clock in the afternoon, and gave the remnant 

 of the field a ringing gallop round Draycot Woods to Fulford, where he was given 

 up, thus ending a most satisfactory day's sport, considering the dry state of the 

 ground and the bad scent which has prevailed of late. Every one was glad to 

 see the noble Master in the saddle, and riding forward all through the first run. 

 The spirited manner in which he has carried on the Hunt through this, his first 

 season of Mastership, deserves a word of acknowledgment. Great credit is due 

 to Stephen Dickins, the huntsman, for the persevering way in which he handles 

 his pack and shows sport, always riding admirably to hounds. May he long 

 continue to hold the horn, and may I be there to see many such good things 

 another season. 



" Tally-Ho." 



Eecord for the season 1874-75 : Killed tliirty-six 

 foxes ; ran to ground thirty-seven. Hunted altogether 

 seventy-six days. 



The first notable entry in Dickins's diary for 1875-76 

 is the following : — 



" November 2%th, 1875. Johnson Hall. — Drew Wincote Wood blank. Found 

 in Sugnall Wood. Ran him past Charnes and Fair Oak, through the Bishop's 

 Woods, up to Cheswardine Hall, into Chipnall Wood, and killed him two fields 

 from the Wood. A very good run. Time one hour and five minutes. 



" February 2nd, 1876. Croxden Abbey. — Found a fox in Chipperlee Wood. 

 Ran him fast to Alton Towers, to ground in the rocks. Found a brace in Lord's 

 Coppice. Chopped one ; ran the other over the river Churnet, and stopped the 

 hounds at Oakamoor, and came home by myself. Lost all the field and whips. 

 A very rough country, all stone walls." 



The wiiter's diary entry of this day's sport is — 



" Croxden. Good gallop from Chipperlee to Alton Towers, and to ground. 

 Chopped a fox at New Plantation, and had woodland run viti Heath House, 

 Frechay, Threapwood, New Hay, Gibridding, etc. Hounds lost ; only Dickins 

 with them." 



There certainly was some excuse for the field being 

 thrown out in this wholesale manner, for the latter part 

 of the run was through and along the steep ravine called 

 the Churnet Valley, and along the wooded sides of the 

 steepest hills, probably, in North Staffordshire, and when 

 by any chance you found yourself in the open, it was, to 

 use Dickins's words, "a very rough country, all stone 

 walls." The writer remembers the day well, and the 

 general surprise on our part that Dickins somehow 

 managed to keep with the hounds and to keep them all 

 together, with not a soul to help him. 



