But that was six or seven years ago, and I frankly admit that then I
was a very indifferent horseman, although I was in happy ignorance of
the fact--in its integrity. I was quite conscious that I did not ride
very gracefully or over-comfortably, but I always discovered that the
fault was my horse's and not mine. My cousins used to think otherwise,
and I have spent hours at a time in trying to induce them to give up
their opinions on the subject and to adopt mine. I should explain that
my cousins being orphans, and my father being their guardian, they
lived with us as part of our family, and that whenever they rode out
they seemed to think they had a right to insist upon my accompanying
them. I at length got tired of riding out with my fair cousins, and of
hearing them titter as, at their suggestion, we went down steep hills
at full trot (I confess I was never great at trotting down hill), and
so I resolved to take to _hunting_. I had heard that some horses,
though the worst of hacks, made the best of hunters; and I thought that
something of that kind might apply to horsemen also, and that I myself
might shine more in the field than I did on the road. It was the end of
February, and the Coverbury pack were meeting three times a week at
places within easy reach of the Stonington Station. That was jolly! I
could buy a hunter, keep him at Philley's livery-stables, and on
hunting-days send him by train to Stonington, meet him, have a day's
hunting unknown to my cousins, and thus enjoy myself with perfect
freedom. I at once drew a cheque for £50, with which I determined to
buy the best hunter in all Blankshire! I called at Philley's and told
him of my intention, and asked him how much a week he would require to
"board and lodge" my steed when purchased. The man smiled--he seemed to
have a habit of smiling; but seeing from the seriousness of my manner
that I was in earnest, he replied that his charge for keeping the horse
would be thirty shillings a week; and he added that if I wished to buy
a "slapping" hunter he'd got just the horse for my money. "Of course,"
said he, "you don't want a pony, but a good tall horse as'll keep you
out of the dirt; and," he added, scanning my figure from top to toe,
"you don't want no cart-horse to carry your weight neither." I admitted
that my ideas on the subject coincided with his exactly, and he at once
called to a stable-boy to bring out Iron Duke.
"There," said Philley, as the horse was trotted into the yard, "you
might go a day's march and not come across such a hunter as
that--extraordinary animal, I assure you, sir." Not understanding the
points of a horse, I deemed it prudent to indorse all that Iron Duke's
owner chose to say in his praise; and I was thus compelled to
acknowledge that his superior height (over sixteen hands), long legs,
and slender build, gave him an advantage over every other horse I had
seen in my life, as regards carrying a light-weight over a
high-stone-wall country.
As we stood discussing the merits of the horse I happened to turn
round, and there I saw the stable-boy grinning and "tipping the wink"
to a companion. This aroused my suspicions that all mightn't be right;
so instead of at once buying and paying for the horse, I mustered up
courage to say, "Well, Mr Philley, I like the horse's appearance, but
are his paces as good as his looks? Will you let me try him with the
Coverbury pack to-morrow?" Mr Philley paused, thought a few moments,
and then observed somewhat solemnly, "Iron Duke, you see, sir, is a
very valuable horse, dirt cheap at fifty pounds; in fact, it's giving
him away, it is really, and I shouldn't like anything to happen to a
horse like that whilst he's mine. We don't generally let him out for
hunting; he's too good for most of our customers. But I'll tell yer
what we'll do; we'll let you have him to-morrow for two guineas, and
then (if you have no accident with him, as of course a gentleman like
you won't) you can please yourself whether you have him or not. But if
you _should_ have an accident--of course accidents _will_ happen
sometimes--why, then the horse will be yours and the fifty pounds
mine." These terms seemed fair, and I accepted them, though not before
they had banished my suspicions, and almost induced me to buy and pay
for the horse there and then.
In the morning I called at Philley's for my hunter, and the boy brought
him out bridled and saddled. As he stood straight in front of me his
tall slim-built figure looked as sharp as a knife. I ventured to
express this idea, but being doubtful as to whether sharpness was a
good point or a bad one, I did so in a manner which might be taken as
in earnest or in jest. The dealer chose to take it in the latter sense,
and after laughing heartily at my "good joke," assured me that I should
find my horse "as clever as a cat." I then attempted to mount, and
after some time (during which the ostler gave me a "leg up" _and over
the other side_) I was successful. The stirrup-straps having been
adjusted, I set out for the station; and in my journey thither I was
conscious that the commanding presence of my horse and the easy
graceful attitude of his rider were fully appreciated by the numerous
passers-by who stopped to stare at us--doubtless in admiration. One
thing, though, nettled me a bit. Just as I got opposite the club, and
was waving my whip to Fitz-Jones, De Brown, and some other fellows who
were standing in the portico, my horse shied at a wheelbarrow, and I
had some difficulty in getting comfortable in the saddle again. I
gently remonstrated with the boy who was wheeling the barrow for not
getting out of my way, when the impudent little scoundrel turned round
and shouted, "Oh, crikey! yer ain't very safe up there! Get inside;
safer inside!" Whereupon the whole of the bystanders, including my
friends of the club, burst out laughing. I, of course, could not
descend from my high horse to chastise the young urchin, and as I
couldn't think of anything smart to say to him, I treated him with the
silent contempt he deserved, and rode on. But still, as I said before,
this nettled me.
With the exception of this trifling _contretemps_, I arrived safely at
Stonington Wood, the place appointed for the meet. There was a good
muster of ladies and gentlemen on horseback (some ten or fourteen of
the gentlemen in scarlet coats), and a condescending old gentleman with
grey hair, neatly trimmed whiskers, and rosy cheeks, remarked that
there was a "good field," but I couldn't see it. All that I could see
in the shape of a field was a small patch of turnips enclosed with a
stone wall, the remainder of the surrounding country being common and
wood, or, as I afterwards learned to call it, "cover." I soon began to
appreciate my Iron Duke, for I found that he was the tallest horse
there, and his legs seemed as light as an antelope's in comparison with
the legs of the other animals, some of which seemed almost as heavy as
cart-horses'.
The clock of the village church struck eleven, and three or four of the
men in scarlet began to whip the dogs to make them go into the wood. I
thought it was the proper thing to imitate their example, and seeing
one of the dogs scrambling up the wall I instantly rode up and gave him
what I thought a "lift up behind" with my whip. To my astonishment the
animal, instead of going over into the wood, tumbled down at my feet
and yelped most piteously. Iron Duke, not liking the noise, turned
round suddenly and kicked out, and the hound had an almost miraculous
escape of having his skull cracked. All this happened in less than a
minute, and seemed to cause a "great sensation," for two or three of
the roughest of the men in scarlet were instantly attacked with a fit
of cursing and swearing, of which I took no notice, believing it to be
lavished on the head of the unfortunate hound. But I soon had my
doubts; for one of the gentlemen in scarlet rode up to me, and with
much severity informed me that he could not have his hounds "served in
that way." I protested that it was an accident, and that I thought
"there could be no harm in doing what the others did." With this
explanation he seemed quite satisfied, for he at once left me, and even
smiled as he did so. The dog must have been a young one, for as I
passed two gentlemen who were doubtless discussing puppies in general,
and I suppose him in particular, I overheard one of them say, "He's
evidently green." The dogs having got safely into cover, the ladies and
gentlemen began to ride along the outside of the wood--cover, I
mean--and I did the same, taking care, though, to keep well in the
rear, that I might see what the others did. I kept clear of every one I
could possibly avoid, as I found that the people who hunted at
Stonington indulged in a peculiar kind of slang which I could not well
understand. I had not gone far before I heard a loud laughing in my
rear. I seemed to be familiar with the sound. I turned "about" in the
saddle, and who should I see but my cousins, not twenty yards behind
me! I was inclined to go home, and I should have done so only I saw
that my cousins, besides being attended by Evans in livery, were
accompanied by their old schoolfellow, Miss Trafford, a young lady to
whom I had been introduced at our last county ball. To enjoy her
presence I determined to brave all. I turned my horse round and raised
my hat as much as the tight guard would let me, and in another moment I
was at the mercy of my tormentors. "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed my cousin
Emily; "we saw you stealing out of the garden gate at six o'clock this
morning." "Yes," chimed in Julia, "and with those splendid top-boots
on! You thought to avoid us, did you?" "I say, Adolphus," continued
Emily, "when you hire a horse-box again, and don't want anyone to know,
don't let your name and destination be labelled on it like an
advertisement! Ha! ha! ha!" I was completely sold, and I was obliged to
acknowledge it; and when I heard that my cousins had actually ridden
ten miles to the meet, whilst I had come by train, I felt that I must
do something to retrieve my reputation in the eyes of Miss Trafford.
The cover was a very large one, and whilst we had been talking all the
people had disappeared. I told the ladies where the dogs were; and
Emily at once came to the conclusion that, if we went round the other
way, which was shorter, we should meet the "field" at "Keeper's Clump."
Acting on this suggestion, we turned back and cantered round to the
other side of the cover. As we did so I felt that field-riding was my
_forte_; it was so much more comfortable than hard road-riding, and I
at once resolved to make hunting my study and only amusement. My
cousins continued to tease me as we went along; but to my delight Miss
Trafford sided with me, thus giving me confirmation of the hope I had
cherished at the ball, that she was not indifferent to the attentions I
then paid her, slight as those attentions necessarily were.
Our passage of arms was suspended by our arrival at the far end of the
cover, where the field were awaiting, as I was informed, the decision
of the master as to what cover to "draw" next. I wondered whether they
had any artists with them, and what good could come of _drawing_ a
cover with which nearly every one seemed familiar. But this is
parenthetical. A stone wall, about four feet high, separated us from
the rest of the field.
"What have you lost?" said Emily to me, as my eyes wandered up and down
the wall.
"Nothing," I replied; "I am looking for the gate."
"Then you are looking for something you won't find this side a mile and
a half; that's the road--over the wall. Come! give us a lead."
Here was a pretty state of things! I, who had never in my life been
over anything higher than a mushroom or wider than a gutter, and who
had in my charge three ladies, suddenly required to give them a lead
over a four-feet wall, in presence of the whole field! The perspiration
stood in great drops on my brow, and I would have given any amount if I
could but have sunk into my boots. But I couldn't; and all eyes being
on me (including _her's_) I had no time to say my prayers. I had to
choose at once between disgrace and the chance of being "sent to my
account with all my imperfections on my head." One glance at Miss
Trafford decided me; and I put my horse's head towards the wall and
then my spurs into his sides. When I was within three feet my courage
failed me, and I pulled up; but it was _too late_. Iron Duke had
already risen; and in doing so had nearly rolled me off, first over the
cantle and then the pommel. Ten thousand years rolled over my devoted
head in these few moments, and then all was still--_i.e._, as regards
motion; but my ears were assailed by a deafening cheer--mixed, I must
candidly admit, with some laughter. When I "came to," I discovered that
I was still alive, and still in the saddle, and that my horse was, in
the most matter-of-fact way possible, spanning the wall like a bridge,
fore-legs on one side, hind-legs on the other. I hastily congratulated
myself that things were no worse, and then began to consider what was
the proper step to be taken by a man in my situation. "Pull him back!"
"Job him over!" "Stick to him!" "Get off!" and similar advice came to
me from every quarter. I resolved to act on the "get off" principle;
and with some difficulty I _did_ get off, taking care to be on the
right side. I then endeavoured to pull the horse over with the reins;
but he resisted with all the obstinacy of a costermonger's
donkey--which circumstance seemed to add to the amusement of the field,
for their laughter increased. Growing desperate, I slashed my whip
several times over the animal's neck; at which treatment he kicked and
plunged until, to my great delight, he kicked the wall down!
"Thank you for your easy lead, my dear cousin Adolphus!" said Emily, as
she and the two other ladies came through the breach in the wall.
"You're quite welcome," I was about to reply, when I was interrupted by
a coarse-looking lad, whose spindle-like legs were covered with
breeches and gaiters.
"I say, guv'nur," said he, "you rode your horse over that there wall
about as well as I'd a-rode my mother's clothes-horse over!--do it
again, do!"
The ladies could not refrain from laughter, in which I made a miserable
attempt at joining them; and then I tried to remount. But this was a
difficult task; for my legs were short, my horse's were long, and his
recent adventure had made him fidgety, and I was at last reduced to the
necessity of accepting an offer from the lad with the spindle legs to
give me a "leg-up." With his assistance (for which I gave him sixpence,
and I have no doubt he threw his bad joke into the bargain) I managed
to scramble into the saddle again. As we rode to the next cover I felt
exceedingly sheepish, and the unfeeling laughter of my cousins, added
to the now cool manner of Miss Trafford, and the quiet grimaces of old
Evans, the groom (who of course kept pretty close to us), made me
desperate, and I was determined to do something to recover my lost
prestige, even if the next day's _Times_ had to record a "Fatal
accident in the hunting-field at Stonington." Emily asked me tauntingly
whether I had "done leaping for to-day?"
"Not exactly," I replied; "I intend----"
"Will you take a lead from me?" she interrupted.
"I'll take any lead that _you_ dare give me," I replied haughtily.
"Done!"
And she had no sooner said the word than the fox broke from the cover,
about two hundred yards in front of us, followed in a few moments by
the hounds, so close together that (as I afterwards heard one gentleman
remark to another) you might have covered them with a blanket. Away
they went, and away went we after them. My enthusiasm was raised to the
utmost pitch, and I was determined to stop at nothing. Emily and Julia
kept on my left, a few yards in advance, whilst Miss Trafford, on my
right, kept about the same distance in my rear. The fox, luckily, had
taken the open, and the ladies prophesied a half-hour's run with no
checks. But before ten minutes of it were over, I perceived, about a
hundred yards in front of us, a thick, well-laid quickset hedge, about
four feet high, and as we neared it I thought I saw water glistening on
the other side. There was no escape; my time had come; I was led in
front, and driven in rear; and leap I must.
"Now for your lead!" cried Emily, waving her whip in the air as she
cleared the fence and the brook beyond it. My horse followed
bravely--and so should I, if I hadn't, by some unfortunate mishap or
other, rolled out of the saddle, and in the midst of my victory fallen
into the brook! As I lay sprawling on my back, and before I had time to
think where I was, I saw the belly of Miss Trafford's horse as he
carried her over the fence, the brook, and me!
"Stop my horse! stop my horse!" I roared, as I came dripping wet out of
the brook. "Stop my horse!" But I earnestly hoped that no one would
stop him, for this last _contretemps_ had considerably damped my ardour
and cooled my courage; and I thought that if nobody _did_ "stop my
horse," he would eventually find his way to the pound; and his absence
would afford me a decent pretext for going home. To my horror, though,
Iron Duke was brought back by the wretched lad of the spindle legs. "Be
the saddle greased, sir?" said he, wiping it with his nasty dirty
pocket handkerchief. I could have kicked him, and should have done so,
only I thought he might have kicked back, and so I swallowed his
affront, and actually gave him another sixpence. Having learned from
him the road to the station, I was just stealing off when I heard in my
rear the cry of "Tally-ho back!" The fox had come back--doubled, I
mean--and I was forced to join the others and run after him again. But,
fortunately for me, he did not run far before the dogs caught him and
killed him, and then one of the men in scarlet cut off his nice long
tail and gave it to Emily. She actually accepted it, although I am
nearly sure she had never seen the man before in her life! I thought
young ladies ought to accept presents from no gentlemen but their
relatives and accepted suitors; and, besides, I don't believe that this
man _was_ a gentleman, for when I whipped the hound to make him get
over the wall (which, as I have before stated, he most unreasonably
declined to do), this fellow was the loudest in his oaths and curses,
which he showered broadcast on the hound, or my horse, or something--I
have never ascertained what--and in the presence of ladies! Emily said
something about making a hair-brush of the fox's tail (what an absurd
idea! but she always was queer); and as the man cut off the fox's head,
she gave me to understand that that would be mine if I asked for it. I
_did_ ask for it; but for some unaccountable reason or other, I _didn't
get it_. The remainder of the poor fox was thrown to the dogs, who soon
tore him to pieces and ate him. It occurred to my philosophic mind, as
I witnessed this spectacle, that the fox, like me, was a hero; but,
also like me, an unsuccessful one. What a number of men, women, horses,
and dogs to conquer one little fox! These and similar reflections were
soon cut short, for the dogs having finished their lunch, the men and
women began to think about theirs; in fact, Sir John Hausie had invited
them all, including me, to lunch with him at the Manor House, about
half a mile distant. As we journeyed thither I began to feel very
uncomfortable, for my coat, waistcoat, and shirt, although not dirty
(for the water in the brook was clean), were wet through, and, the
warmth of exercise and enthusiasm having subsided, I felt very cold.
When we arrived at Sir John's, I was so stiff with cold that I could
scarcely dismount, which Sir John observing, he came and very kindly
accosted me. He also inquired as to the cause of my fall--spill, he
called it--and offered me the loan of a coat whilst mine was hastily
dried at the kitchen fire. Sir John was an exceedingly pleasant man,
and had a jolly, cheerful, laughing face, and we soon understood each
other. I accepted his proferred loan with many thanks, and then took
Miss Trafford in to lunch. As I sat by her side in the baronet's coat,
and gracefully helped her to sherry, the frost of her manner gradually
thawed; and when we returned to remount we were as jolly as
topers--sand-boys, I mean. I of course assisted her to get into the
saddle; but I was so stiff and so giddy (from the excitement of the
morning) that I very nearly let her down. We were some time without
finding another fox; and as my cousins had gone off with old Evans and
Captain De la Grace, and as Miss Trafford seemed so amiable, I
determined to improve the occasion. We were on the common just outside
Sir John's park, the beauties of which I was very particular in
admiring; and having thus got Miss Trafford to lag behind, I took the
opportunity of unbosoming my heart to her. I got very excited, and my
voice trembled with emotion (or something of that sort), as I made her
a pathetic offer of my heart and hand. I paused (as well as my
excitement would allow me, for it had brought on the hiccups), and she
replied. I can't remember exactly what she said, but it was something
about sparing me the pain of a refusal, and about not marrying a man
who couldn't take a fence. I offered to jump the park wall if she would
only listen to my suit. She agreed; and bracing up all my spirits, I
rode full tilt at the wall; and over I went, leaving my horse on the
wrong side! And as I turned an involuntary somersault I thought I heard
sounds like "the receding foot-steps of a cantering horse." (_Note._--This
is a quotation from some lines I afterwards wrote to Miss Trafford.)
There was then a slight break in the thread of my thoughts, and after
that I found myself lying in the midst of some young fir-trees, whilst
Iron Duke was quietly browsing on the leafless twigs of a tree on the
other side of the wall. Gentle reader! I am sure you must feel for my
unfortunate position. I will not torture you further by relating the
painful particulars of how I scrambled over the wall; how I got on Iron
Duke, only to tumble off again; how I nearly broke my neck before I got
home; how Philley declared I had broken the horse's knees; how he made
me pay £50 for the animal; how I sold him the next week for £10 (less
£2 for carriage); and, worst of all, how Miss Trafford jilted me, and
my cousins--cruel girls--laughed at my misfortunes and made sport of my
troubles. Indeed, with all these we have nothing to do, for they
happened after "My First Day's Fox-hunting."