Hunt “Runners.”
III.
“HARRY” AND SELLARS.
No better tribute to the scope of the runner’s usefulness could be put
forth than the fact that he is running with us to-day. As might be
expected, quite a little band of scarlet-coated runners live within easy
reach of Melton and Oakham, a privileged area in which sport with one or
other of the four Leicestershire packs may be seen on six days of the
week. Theirs is a hard life at best, and were they not thoroughly endued
with the spirit for sport, they could not for long follow their calling;
but the runner of the rising generation has not the enthusiasm of a
former generation. As for reminiscences, his begin and end with the
week’s sport; as for the future, he hopes the going will not be any
heavier in the coming week.
[Illustration:
LEICESTERSHIRE RUNNERS.
]
The journey to covert through the characteristic Leicestershire gates,
across grass fields and cow pastures, is the runner’s opportunity to be
useful; at the meet the possession by the great majority of hunting men
of second horsemen render his services less in demand than they used to
be. The hunt runner is not the character he was in our forefathers’ day;
but there are still uses for him in certain districts. At the present
time both the Quorn and the Cottesmore have recognised men to lead their
terriers, and perform other functions. With the Belvoir a runner may be
seen joining the hunt on a Leicestershire day, but he is more or less
“on his own”; for if a terrier is out it is running with the pack or led
by a second horseman. So far as the Lincolnshire side of the Belvoir
country is concerned, it is no country for runners; the area traversed
is very wide, and the going is much too heavy to let a man on foot keep
in touch with a well-mounted hunt. The same applies to the Blankney
country, where we never remember seeing a runner on any occasion; the
Blankney Hunt terrier is always carried by one of the second horsemen,
slung in a game-bag so that he can be brought on the scene at the
shortest notice.
When Lord Lonsdale instituted his memorable reign as master of the Quorn
in 1893, he organised every detail of his staff, from Tom Firr in
leathers and swan-necked spurs, to the hunt runners carrying the very
latest pattern of bolting apparatus. No commander-in-chief of an army
ever entered on a plan of campaign better found in every department, and
the result was entirely satisfactory for sport, good runs, with a fox at
the finish, being the order of things. On the opening day of that season
at Kirby Gate, we had the good fortune to be one of the field mounted by
Mr. James Hornsby, who then lived at Stapleford Park. Amongst the crowd
at the meet, the figure of Harry the runner came in for general
observation. He turned out in scarlet coat of a texture not too heavy;
white flannel knickerbockers, black stockings, and a well-groomed
hunting cap. He led a couple of varminty wire-haired terriers of the
celebrated Lonsdale breed, and strapped to his back was a patent
sapper’s spade with pick, made of the best steel. Thus equipped, Harry
appears in one of the Quorn series of hunt pictures by Major Giles,
which depicts hounds marking to ground in one of the characteristic
hills typical of the woodland side of Leicestershire. With Harry was
another runner, a strong athletic young fellow with a heavy moustache,
who carried a bolting apparatus in the shape of thirty-five feet of
piping with a brush at the end of it, not unlike that used by
chimney-sweeps. Known to the hunt department as Sunny Marlow, he has
always worked with Harry.
On the occasion before us, contrary to custom, the first draw was Welby
Fishponds, instead of Gartree Hill, and we were marshalled by the field
master, Mr. Lancelot Lowther, a field away whilst hounds drew covert. At
last the silver whistles proclaimed hounds away on the back of a fox,
and the cavalcade swept down the hillside. After a hunt of about an
hour, with a somewhat catchy scent, and a blind line of country that
laid the field out like ninepins, hounds marked to ground over a drain
between Old Dalby Wood and Sixhills. Before we had been there five
minutes, Harry was on the scene with his apparatus and terriers.
Unstrapping the spade, he took off his coat, and putting his back into
the work, he cut the sods out in double quick time. It was a
characteristic shallow Leicestershire drain, running across a grass
field, and crowning down into it, a terrier was put in at the far end.
This moved the fox, and Alfred Earp, the whipper-in, was ready to seize
him by the brush as he tried to slip further up. Wriggling like an eel
at arm’s length, he was flung adrift, and the pack coursing the length
of a field, rolled him over—the first fox of the season.
An official Quorn runner must be a good hand with the spade, for he gets
many a rough day’s work in the off season digging out badgers, which
abound in high Leicestershire. As most people know, badgers are very
untidy neighbours for a fox covert, working out the earths so that
stopping out becomes an increased difficulty. Very often digging out a
badger earth may mean a week or two of solid work, for badgers go very
deep, often among the roots of trees. As a rule the soil is light and
sandy, working well; where badgers have been imported into clay soil
districts to work out earths for foxes, they have at first opportunity
migrated to districts where the digging suited them better. This last
autumn one of the hunt runners told us that after some very hard digging
they got hold of three badgers whose combined weight turned the scale at
a hundredweight, the largest measuring 3 ft. 10 in. in length. The
badgers are killed, and their skins sent in to the Master of the Hunt as
trophies.
Since Captain Forester undertook the mastership last season, Harry has
again, we understand, become a paid member of the staff as in Lord
Lonsdale’s time. If the two men are not seen running with the Hunt on
the same day, the one is pretty sure to be stopping earths in another
district for next day.
A runner with the Cottesmore has to put a great deal of travelling into
a day’s hunting when the fixture is wide of Oakham; on Mondays and
Thursdays an average journey to the meet is from twelve to fifteen
miles, with no chance of a lift by rail. Sellars, who has been runner
for the best part of twenty seasons, tells us that he frequently starts
from Oakham, with his terriers, at eight o’clock in the morning, to
reach such fixtures as Castle Bytham, Holywell Hall, Stocken-Hall, or
Clipsham, by eleven. Fortunately at the end of the day, hounds work back
towards Oakham, so that when they whip off the runner is nearer his
well-earned supper. Sellars is a well-set-up, active fellow, who relies
on his own energies to carry him through, and where the heart is keen
for sport it is astonishing what a man can accomplish. A younger runner
to-day of shorter build lessens his labours by using a bicycle, which
certainly gives him an advantage in districts where the roads serve. But
Sellars has ridden to hounds in his time second horseman, as far back as
when William Neil carried the horn, and he is hardly likely to adopt the
“wheel.” In his cap, scarlet coat and leggings, he is the typical,
sharp-featured runner, in hard condition to go all day, perfectly at
home in the country, which he knows by heart.
With the respectful manner of one who has been in touch with hunting all
his life, Sellars is not a great talker; he is a silent admirer of all
connected with the Cottesmore Hunt, in which his sun rises and sets.
During the hunting season there is plenty of work to be had between
times in the shape of badger digging and earth stopping, besides taking
a turn as beater when there is shooting going on in the district. The
hay and corn harvest gives every available hand the chance of a fair
day’s work for good pay, the farmers then finding the Hunt runners
employment.
Sellars calls to mind the memories of a long succession of brilliant
Cottesmore Hunt servants: mentioning William Neil and his famous first
whip, Jimmy Goddard, who was the _beau ideal_ of a horseman, and hung a
boot better than most. The long service of George Gillson, as huntsman
for the best part of twenty years, was remarkable for consistent and
good sport, very popular with the countryside. A whipper-in who had a
long tenure of service at that time was George Jull, who remained on for
a season or two under Arthur Thatcher, and then went to Ireland. Amongst
the many occasions that Sellars has helped to extricate horse and rider
after a fall, he calls to mind an incident when Jull came such a
crumpler, that he had to be conveyed by the Hunt runner to the nearest
farmhouse.
Sellars was one of those who rendered first aid when Colonel Little took
a bad fall this season, his horse rolling over him with serious
consequences. A runner, if he is worth his salt, must be ready for any
emergency, from rendering “first aid” to handling a fox or leading an
unwilling hound. Very often his duties are in the track of the hunt,
shutting gates and collecting strayed stock, so that he must be included
amongst those who further sport by repairing mistakes of the careless.
Oxford and Cheltenham Coach.
To some who have read and heard what a sight it was in the old days to
witness the coaches—both mail and stage—coming into and leaving
Cheltenham, it may be a matter of surprise to learn that as late as 1862
a mail coach was running daily between Oxford and Cheltenham, an
illustration of which is given with this short article, this being taken
from a water-colour drawing by Mr. Bayzand, of Oxford, who has very
kindly given me some interesting particulars of the coach and those
connected with it. And I am also indebted to the courtesy of my friend
Mr. Hendy, of the G.P.O., for further information as to dates, &c., &c.
[Illustration:
OXFORD AND CHELTENHAM COACH.
]
It appears that the coach first commenced to run in 1846–7, and did not
carry mails until 1848, from which time till October 1st, 1855, mails
were carried by it free of charge, _i.e._, merely in consideration of
freedom from tolls; but from the date mentioned the sum of £150 per
annum was given to the proprietors in addition to this privilege. The
original owners were Mr. Waddell and Mr. Dangerfield, of Oxford, but
after three or four years the concern was taken over and worked by Isaac
Day, the trainer, of Northleach (through which quaint, and to this day
remote, little town the coach of course passed daily), John Mills, of
Burford, and Daniel Blake, of Cheltenham; and a little later still the
last named took it over entirely, ultimately disposing of the business
to Messrs. Edward Allen and William Colee, of the George Hotel,
Cheltenham. Mr. Allen died in 1854, and the coach was then run by
William Colee himself till the summer of 1856, when Mr. Richard Glover
took it over, Colee retiring. George Colee, brother to William, is the
coachman shown in picture, he used to drive from Oxford half the
journey, bringing the up coach back, it being a day coach leaving Oxford
and Cheltenham respectively at 11 a.m. Though starting from the “Old
Three Cups Hotel,” Oxford, the coach was kept and horses stabled at the
“Lamb and Flag,” St. Giles; the horsekeeper’s name there was Morgan. I
am told that two portraits in the picture are particularly good—that of
George Colee, and the grey leader; this mare was bought by Mr. Blake
from Isaac Day, and I fancy she must have been a real good animal, as it
is still remembered and recorded that her name was “Skater,” and she was
blind. Isaac Day, by the way, was noted for his liking for a good cob,
and no doubt during his connection with the coach he horsed his stage,
or stages, well. The old trainer died in 1859, just about three years
before the coach ceased to run, as it made its last journey in January,
1862, in which month the Witney branch of railway was opened. Though a
mail the coach was not a fast one, being timed at from seven to eight
miles an hour. After it ceased to run George Colee, I understand,
contracted for the Steventon Mail, and one or two others local to
Oxford, in which city he died. To those among the readers of these lines
who knew Oxford in the old days, it may be of interest to note that in
the picture the coach is represented on the Botley Road, passing
Morrell’s old rick yard and the path leading to Ferry Hincksey, now all
built over.