“When I started to collect them, I discovered that I could only get very few here owing to the accursed muzzling order, and also to certain unaccountable circumstances. ‘Bellman,’ ‘Cautious’ and ‘Comrade’ were in muzzled areas and could not be shifted. ‘Bruiser’ had died a natural death. Mrs. Barnard had knocked ‘Spinster’ on the head, as she had grown too old and fat. The hound ‘Rambler,’ which had been adopted by Champion in 1916, walked away as curiously as he had come. But the final blow came when I heard that a boy, Gage, had sent out to Germany both ‘Caroline’ and ‘Grappler,’ as he thought the E.C.H. had finally stopped. This naturally reduced the pack considerably, and, had it not been for the kindness of Mr. St. George, we could never have hoped to carry on. Mr. St. George, whose son was killed in France, and had been a whip in 1912, presented the hunt with two young couple by ‘Whitby’ out of ‘Melody,’ both of which had formerly belonged to the E.C.H. and had been given to him. If these shape as well in the field as they do in the kennels, we ought to be able to carry on till better times come.
“‘Havvy’ (the late Mr. R. S. de Havilland) managed to persuade Glyn to stay on for one more Half so as to be Master. He is the last of the old stagers. I mean by that that he is the last person who was noticeable before the hounds were stopped in 1917. I wish him the best of luck, though I fear he will have a tough job. Floreant canes Etonenses.”
And so, in the following January, some two hundred Etonians were once more treated to the delights of beagling after a lapse of three years since Parker hunted the E.C.H. It was not a good season so far as regards kills. How could it have been with only seven couples of old hounds in the kennels? But some wonderfully good runs were provided, and I remember after one good day returning an hour and three-quarters late for lock-up. F. M. G. Glyn, the Master, was a good runner, and beagling became very popular. Only three hares were killed in all, two of them on one day. The first of these was killed in the boys’ part of Mr. Marten’s house, to the immense delight of the owner. Another hare was killed in a garden close to Chalvey Grove, and I remember an old woman trying to sweep hounds away with a broomstick.
Here I will give the personal reminiscences of T. C. Barnett-Barker, Master in the season 1919-20, which will bring us right up to date, and will describe better than any words of mine the final triumph of hunting at Eton and the situation of beagling to-day.
“During my first two years at Eton (1915 and 1916) I was a Lower Boy. To a Lower Boy beagling is generally forbidden, and consequently only rumours reached me about the beagles. Once or twice I was fagged to kennels, but I only took a furtive glance at the hounds.
“My third year, when the customary notice came round asking for the names of prospective beaglers, I decided to make the experiment. This decision was not made without a feeling of misgiving, as I thought it more a sport for my elders and betters, because in those days all the ‘celebrities’ beagled, or so it seemed to me at the time. Some of my friends took me to the first meet, and I remember being haunted by the childish yet awful idea that I might do something wrong. However, one soon learnt there was not much time for doing wrong, the only necessity being to try to keep up with hounds.
“Vaguely I remember struggling and inwardly praying for a check. When at last I did catch up, it was generally time to go home, unless one wished to violate the laws of lock-up. As yet I was not one of those ‘bravos’ who cared little for their tutors and lock-up, yet inwardly admiring them and longing to be one of them. And so it was that with persistent regularity I used to reach my house just as the lock-up bells broke out.
“The after-sensations of a day’s beagling are hard to describe, but all who beagle with a true heart know the infinite joy of sitting in a comfortable armchair by a warm fire just ‘thinking it over.’
“Before the end of my first season I had made friends with the kennel huntsman, of whom more hereafter, and even began to criticise inwardly the Master and whips, so conceited was I.