Once in A. E. Parker’s season (1882) a hare went to ground in a rabbit hole and took a considerable time to unearth. This incident happened at an invitation meet near Reading. Two hares had been killed. The account of the day ends as follows:
“Thus ended a most enjoyable day which afforded the best sport we have had this season. Our best thanks are due to Mr. Hargreaves, whose kindness and hospitality was only equalled by that of his son. The weather had been perfection and we returned to Eton charmed with our day, our sport, and our host.”
Both Daniel Lascelles and A. E. Parker had remarkable Eton careers in the way of sport. Both were in the XI., the Field and the Oppidan Wall, and both were masters of the beagles for two years. Lascelles unfortunately perished of typhoid in the nineties, but Parker is still living. He was for some time master of the North Warwickshire, and his son was master of the beagles at Eton as late as 1916. No less than four different Parkers held office at different times. This is a good record, but it has been equalled by that of the Ward family, three of whom have actually been masters.
These are Mr. Parker’s own recollections of the sport:
“When I was whip and master, and for some time previous, the beagles were looked after by Lock at the Turkish Baths on the opposite side of the street, only a little higher up, to Tap.
“Lock was a great character, and my first acquaintance with him was when a bagged fox was hunted at the end of my first beagle Half; Lower Boys were allowed to go out, and I went. The hounds ran the fox into a hedge on Dorney Common, but would not tackle it. Lock pulled him out by his brush, and he turned round and bit his thumb, so Lock hit him over the head with his whip and killed him.
“When I was whip to Dan Lascelles we met at Dorney Common and ran a hare up to Orkney Cottage near Maidenhead, and back down the side of the river, and eventually picked her up stone dead in a cottage garden on Dorney Common; she was as stiff as a post. I believe the time was 1 hour 20 minutes, but am not sure; it was a hot day and the pace very fast.
“The same year, when hunting a hare at Salt Hill, the hounds brought her back close to the Field, and a cad killed her dead with a stone at about 20 yards. I broke my whip across his shins.
“Frequently when we went into the kennel Lock would come out of the Turkish Bath with nothing whatever on, and with a mop in his hand which he occasionally spun like a torpedo at a hound that happened to be fighting or even scratching.
“One of his favourite expressions out hunting was ‘Pop your whip, Sir; pop your whip.’