Christmas Eve 1886

Christmas Eve, 1886. – A day snatched from the frost by a few keen sportsmen. The frost was certainly not out of the groun at 11 a.m., but “fortune favours the brave,” and my informant relates that there were no mishaps, and that the ground rode very well. Lucky dogs! How I envy them. My mouth waters now as I think of the sport that they had; and others will have the same feeling who know the country and follow the line. Mind you, hounds had not been out for over a week, and when they will get out again remains a problem to which tonight (Tuesday, Dec.28) has given no clue. To-morrow, ye gods! We may be sleighing, skating – hunting alas, I am afraid not.

But I must cease this drivelling, and drop you at once into Beachetts’ the hour about 1 p.m., I believe, as my friend rode into the middle ride in time to see Bailey laying hounds on to a fox that had gone away across Mr Daniel Miller’s farm towards Tawney Hall. A lovely line this; but as good or bad luck would have it, for very minute the going was improving, this fox made good his escape. Bailey held the hounds all round the meadows to Weel-eves, but could not hit it off, so took them on to Shalesmore, and not finding there, went to Bush – grove, a small covert at the top of Hill Hall Park.

They had not been in a minute before he was on foot, they rattles him round once, and out he went down the hill towards Brook House, bore to the right, across Mr. D. Rumball’s fields, and straight across the park out by Mount Church, across the road down the hilly fields to Shalesmore, across the meadow in front of Mr. Sworder’s House – (how the sight must have thrilled that verteran’s heart, and brought back glad memories of other days when he himself was always in the van; but he lives again in his son, and today is in the van once more; that neat black cost follows no guide, needs no lead, and covers a heart that never beat with a jealous throb) – hounds drove on, crossing the road and over Mr Sworder’s ploughed land towards Sir Charles Smith’s house.

Running for Shalesmore

The pace up to here had been very fast, and a slight check came as a welcome respite to horses, on whose condition a week’s frost had already begun to tell tales. A man at plough had turned the fox, and hounds were soon on terms again, straight to Stanford Rivers Rectory, where they got a bit too much to the right (30 minutes to this point). A holloa back a little on the left – (it was here about six more who had been riding to find hounds all day nicked in) – Bailey took hounds to holloa, and got them on the trail, but the fox must have been headed, as hounds ran straight back to right.

One hound had stayed behind puzzling out the forward line herself, to her Bailey soon came back with the pack, and they ran on through Kettlebury Springs, down to the bottom, along the brook, until they came to the lane that runs to Toot Hill, up which they ran for some distance, as if they were going straight to Ongar Park, but he had turned sharp to the left across some meadows, and Northlands now seemed his point. However, he took a right-handed turn, and set his head straight for Ongar Park, and led them right up to the Toot-hill road, but was probably headed by a boy clamping mangels.

Once more he took to the open in the direction of the Mole Trap, across the big ploughed fields on Tawney Common, nearly up to Beachetts, and turning sharp to the right across the road, at the end of an hour and a quarter reached what proved to be the sanctuary of Mr Chisenhale Marsh’s Woods. He was seen by a woodman in covert dead beat, and he was hunted on and off for another three-quarters of an hour, during which he was actually rolled over by a single hound, but out of the very jaws of death, in spite of the determined efforts and patient perseverance of Bailey, he managed to get away.

My informant further adds: “I never saw hounds and huntsmen work better all though; it was a real treat; npobody to ride over them; no cramming and jambing for places; you can just imagine what an opportunity it was for seeing them work. The going was first-rate, a bit heavy on the plough, but the rain in the morning had made the banks all right.”

Major Tait, Mr R. Bevan, Mr Neave, Mr Miller, Mr Cross, Mr Horner and Mr Harry Sworder were among the fortunate few who saw this sporting run.