that cover; then into the forest up to Puntice Coppice, through Herring Dean, to the Marlows, up to Coney Coppice, back through the Marlows to the forest Westgate; over the fields to Nightingale bottom, to Cobden's of Drought, up his Pine Pitt Hanger (there his Grace of St. Albans got a fall); through my Lady Lukener's bottoms, and missed the earth; through West Dean forests, to the corner of Collar Down, where Lord Harcourt blew his first horse; crossed the Hacking Place Down the length of Coney Coppice, through the Marlows to Herring Dean into the forest, and Puntice's Coppice, East Dean Wood, the Lower Teaglees, crossed by Cocking Course, down between Graffham and Woolavington, through Mr. Orm's park and paddock, over the heath to Fielder's furzes, to the Hurlands, Selham, Amersham, through Totham furzes, over Totham heath, almost to Cowdry park, there turned to the lime-kiln at the end of Cocking Causeway, through Cocking park and furzes, there crossed the road, and up the hills between Bepton and Cocking. Here the unfortunate Lord Harcourt's second horse felt the effect of long legs, and a sudden steep; the best thing belonging to him was his saddle, which my lord had secured; but by bleeding, contrary to the act of Parliament, he recovered, and with some difficulty was got home. Here Mr. Faugwill's humanity claims your regard, who kindly sympathised with my lord in his misfortunes, and had not power to go beyond him at the bottom of Cocking Warren. The hounds turned to the left across the road, to the barn near Herring Dean, then took the side hills to the North gate of the forest (here Mr. Hawly thought it prudent to change his horse for a true blue which staged upon the hills, Billy Ives likewise to a horse of Sir Harry Liddell's); went through the forest, and run the foil to Benderton (here Lord Harry Beauclerk sunk), away to Hag's bushes, to the Valdoe, through Goodwood Park (here the Duke of Richmond chose to send three tame horses back to Charleton, and took Saucyface and Sir William, that were very luckily at Goodwood). From thence, at distance, Lord Harry was seen driving his horse before him to Charleton. The hounds went out at the upper end of the park, up to Stretington Road, by Sally Coppice (where his Grace the Duke of Richmond got a summerset), through Halnaker Park over the hill, to Sebbige Farm (here the master of the stag-hounds, Colonel Honeywood, Tom Johnson, and Nim Jones, were thoroughly satisfied); up Long Down, through Eastham Common field, and Kemp's High Wood (here Billy Ives tired his second horse, and took Sir William, by which the Duke of St. Albans had no great coat, so returned to Charleton from Kemps High Wood). The hounds broke away through the Gumworth Warren, Kemps Ruff Piece, over Slindon Down, to Madhurst Parsonage (where Billy came in with them), over Poor Down, up to Madhurst; then down to Haughton forest (where his Grace of Richmond, and Messrs. Hawley and Pancefort, came in, the latter to little purpose, for beyond the Ruell Hill, neither he nor his horse Tinker cared to go); left Shewood on the right hand, crossed Offam Hill, to Southwood, from thence to South Stoke, to the wall of Arundel river, where the glorious twenty-three hounds put an end to the campaign, and killed the old bitch fox ten minutes before six. Billy Ives, his Grace of Richmand, and Henry Hawley, were the only persons in at the death, to the immortal honour of seventeen stone. "The glorious twenty-three hounds :"OLD HOUNDS.-Pompey, Doxy, Taker, Jenny, Peggy, Dido, Alnarck, Ringwood, Lawless, Cruel, Veny, Edmund, Walent, Cryer, Traveller. YOUNG HOUNDS.-Buxom, Ruby, Rifle, Bloomer, Lady, Crowners, Rummers, ***” Here the name is obliterated in the manuscript. Poor Thomas Johnson, who died four years after this memorable run, is buried at Singleton, about five miles north of Chichester; his epitaph runs as follows: "Near this place lies interred THOMAS JOHNSON, who departed this life at Charlton, "From his early inclination to fox-hounds he soon became an experienced huntsman. His knowledge in his profession, wherein he had no superior, and hardly an equal, joined to his honesty in every other particular, recommended him to the service, and gained him the approbation of several of the nobility and gentry; among these were the Lord Conway, Earl of Cardigan, the Lord Gower, the Duke of Marlborough, and the honourable Mr. Spencer. The last master whom he served, and in whose service he died, was Charles, Duke of Richmond, Lennox, and Aubigny, who erected this monument to the memory of a good and faithful servant, as a reward to the deceased, and an incitement to the living. "Go, and do thou likewise.'-LUKE X., 37. "Here Johnson lies. What huntsman can deny We now return to Her Majesty's hounds. It is much to be lamented that such a splendid establishment is not in a better country: it was formerly contemplated to have changed the stag-hounds to fox-hounds, and to have hunted the Quorn country; another opportunity has now occurred, which we should be glad to hear her Majesty's advisers upon sporting subjects recommend to their gracious Sovereign-it is to take Northamptonshire, now vacant. This magnificent country is easily accessible by railroad, and we feel assured that the Queen's name, which is "a tower of strength," would crown the undertaking with success. There is not a farmer, a yeoman, a land-owner, in this favoured country, that would not lend their assistance in the preservation of foxes; and the resident noblemen and gentry, of whom we must particularise those two first-rate sportsmen and riders, the Earl of Cardigan, and George Payne, Esq., would, we feel assured, do all in their power to promote this national amusement. The Queen would only be following the example of some of her predecessors on the throne, by selecting any country in which her loyal subjects could enjoy the pleasures of the "noble science" in perfection. There would be one difference however, and a most striking one would it be: in the present instance no hamlets, churches, or manors would be devastated as in for mer days, to make royal forests or chases; but the unanimous voice of the country of Northamptonshire at large would welcome the accession of such an establishment as the royal one. We have already alluded to Prince Albert as a sportsman, and ere long we sincerely hope to hear of his Royal Highness following the noble pursuit of fox-hunting. May the love of this truly national sport descend to his son, and son's sons. Ere many winters have passed over our heads, we hope to find in the Prince of Wales a sincere friend to the noble science, "The chase, the sport of Britain's kings." Then will the lines of the poet be fully realized : "If a man were porter of hell-gate, he should have old turning the key." 'Tis midnight in St. James's Street: Blandly smiles the Priest of Play; Slowly the living current comes, The crowd of speculative sinners; Still of the prima donna raving; Of tenth-rate swells not worth the having. MACBETH. All ranks, all fashions, hit or miss, Has scarce such constant work as I. Come, scion of a hundred earls, With fifty quarterings on thy shield- Than courtly circles can afford. Ere long, some usurer's vulgar heir Come from the opera stall and box, Whose eye with languid rapture swims, When round the ballarina's form The whirling gauze floats high and higher; Though our artiste for such display Is all too coy, yet ere thou long Hast watched her movements thou wilt say, No pas de fascination Had ever half the power to thrill Thy blood with such an eager heat, As when her leathern vests reveal Come, thou whose eager voice and look Yet, strange to say, a book that pays. Thou little know'st at what a pace The rattling dice will make the running. No potent drug of force to quail Wont to the destined course to call The flying favourite lame and hobbling; Ah, safe within this narrow stall Áre runners that admit no "nobbling." What, thou! old crafty cent. per cent.! That will not give thee ground for action. Yet what th' investment brought thee back The sharpest rogue to flat she changes; Brings round his well-approved revenges. Nor less her power that ensnares, At the frivolities of fashion. Dear brother of the Stock Exchange, And day by day the stock declines, As chairman of the York and Pekin. Come each, come all-we wait your pleasure; In and out, and out and in: All is ready-stake your treasure; Doomed to lose, or doomed to win. C. G. P. |