122 FOX-HUNTING IN THE SHIRES 



which has not some association with the story of 

 fox-hunting and its rise as a national sport in England. 

 I confess I can never see Glooston Wood or Shangton 

 Holt drawn without seeming to hear, as the too 

 impetuous field dashes away, the " Hi, Hi " of Mr. 

 Assheton Smith uttered with all the old H' emphasis 

 as he strove to gain time for his hounds to settle. 

 In the lane by Glenn Gorse I seem to hear the shrill 

 tones of the Squire (Osbaldeston) as he alternately 

 cheered his hounds and gossiped with his friends, 

 or darted away with three couple of leading hounds, 

 leaving the others to come through the horses, as 

 indeed you may sometimes see them do to-day. Or, 

 again, with the Belvoir I hear the silky tones of 

 Gentleman Shaw at a check, as hounds waver for a 

 moment outside Freeby Wood or Bescaby Oaks. 

 " Gently, gentlemen, gently. One moment, and I'll 

 thank ye." 



Or, to come nearer to our own time, Tom Firr's 

 deep note sounds in our ears, as his hounds put down 

 their heads after being lifted clear of a too eager field, 

 or the eager " Huic, Huic, Huic " of Will Goodall 

 the younger as he cheered his hounds together. The 

 dark fences before you in the Harborough country 

 are those that Mr. Smith said could all be crossed 

 " with a fall," and the hedges clean and fair of the 

 best of the Quorn those that Lord Wilton sailed 

 over, never finding " those big places they talk of," 

 because to a consummate horseman with an eye for 

 country and the best of cattle even Leicestershire 

 loses its terrors. 



In looking back over the history of the past, certain 

 points seem common to all the hunts in all periods 

 of their history. The first of these is the importance 

 of the huntsman to the sport. Say what we will 



