“Two hounds particularly remain in my memory, namely ‘Rustic’ and ‘Rival.’ I have in my possession now a coloured photograph of the pack, taken by Messrs. Hills & Saunders, which was presented to me on the completion of my second season of mastership. The occasion was celebrated by a breakfast at the White Hart Hotel in Windsor, and, though the authorities must, I think, have been aware of the fact, they neither took the slightest step to prevent nor resent it.
“F. A. Curry and L. G. Wickham whipped in to me in 1870: G. H. Armitstead and Hon. H. C. Legge in 1871.
“Nobody was allowed off Absence at that time, nor were we allowed to attend that function ‘changed.’ I used to go, therefore, with a great coat and pair of trousers over my beagling kit. Three Lower Boys were in readiness at my tutor’s door, which was just opposite Schoolyard, one to take off the coat, and the other two to haul away each at a leg of the trousers, so that I was able to start off in a twink immediately after I had answered my name.
“Our time being extremely limited we used to advertise a meet at say Langley station for ten minutes after two o’clock, Absence being at two. The kennelman brought the hounds to the meet coupled, and took them home in the same manner. We used always to draw at the double, and if possible coupled up the hounds in time to get back before lock-up, the run home testing our endurance to the uttermost.
“This description of our methods will show how strenuous the work was, but, though we did our best to get back in time for lock-up, I remember very well one occasion when a hare rose in view just as we were about to couple up the hounds. It was out West Drayton way. Off went the hounds in full cry, and we were unable to stop them for something under an hour, after—among other things—having swum across the Colne. We were an hour and a half late for lock-up, and my tutor, instead of taking a reasonable view of such an unavoidable episode, sent me up to the Head Master. Dr. Hornby was full of threats to stop the whole thing, but finally contented himself with setting me the fifth Iliad to write out, thinking that this would prevent my hunting the next half holiday. I did hunt though, for my method of writing out this Iliad was as follows: taking three pens sloped one over the other I sat up all night and wrote out one-third of it. This I showed up at one o’clock the next day at the Head Master’s house, and never heard anything more of the matter.
“The farmers were extremely friendly, and indeed I only recollect one who denied us permission to hunt over his land. The original refusal was probably due to some misunderstanding; but the quarrel had been emphasized by the fact that the beagles had, once or twice, run over his land after permission had been withdrawn. In my two seasons, however, chiefly on F. A. Curry’s advice, we strictly respected his decision: with the pleasing result that, I believe, before the commencement of the next season, permission was again gladly given.
“Half a century is a considerable time, and I am sure readers will readily forgive my inability to recall any more episodes of the season 1870-71.”
Under the mastership of F. Fenwick a wonderful day’s sport was enjoyed on Feb. 22nd, 1872, when no less than three hares were killed within two hours. The meet was at Athens, and a short time before the meet two hares had been seen to swim the river from the Eton side, a striking proof that hares will take to the water even when not pressed. Hounds were taken over the weir bridge and both these hares were killed after short runs, but the hunt of the day was yet to come. A hare was found near Surley, and after a fast ringing hunt of 1 hour 10 minutes was rolled over in the open near Aldridge’s. The account of the run ends with the words:
“Thus it was
‘From a find to a run,