THE GOLDEN AGE, 1899-1914.
It was in 1899 that the Golden Age of the E.C.H. began. Every hunt has
had its periods of prosperity, and for fifteen years after this date the
sport shown by the E.C.H. was all that could be desired. It was a sudden
and unexpected revival, and it may be said to have been entirely due to
the energy and keenness of Francis and Riversdale Grenfell, the twin sons
of P. du P. Grenfell of Wilton Park, Beaconsfield. The extraordinary
career of these two boys has already been portrayed by John Buchan. Two
more gallant Englishmen never lived. As a life-long friend of theirs
wrote, “I would gladly do anything to keep their memory alive.”
They accomplished three things for the E.C.H. They built the new kennels,
they bought a new pack of hounds, and last, but by no means least, they
secured the services of George Champion as kennel huntsman. And in their
time also the services of the late Mr. R. S. de Havilland were enlisted
as treasurer for the Hunt; services which were invaluable, in spite of
his repeated protests that he had next to nothing to do. A great deal of
work devolved on him; the control of the finance, and the auditing of
the accounts; occasional visits to angry farmers; the task of general
representative of beagling for the Head Master, and the duty of warding
off the attacks of the now defunct “Humanitarian League,” a duty in which
he suffered a great deal of unjust abuse; all these and many other tasks
were patiently and successfully undertaken by him.
The building of the new kennels was the first accomplishment of the
Grenfells. The scheme had been suggested by their brother, R. S.
Grenfell, in 1894; and proceedings had even gone so far as for circulars
to be printed, but difficulties arose as to the Army Examination, and he
had to leave too soon. This brother had been killed at Omdurman in 1898,
but his idea did not die with him, and directly Francis Grenfell was
appointed Master he began the task of raising sufficient money for the
building of real kennels.
[Illustration: FRANCIS AND RIVERSDALE GRENFELL.]
These kennels were an ambitious task for two boys to undertake, for
Rivvy, Francis’s brother, had a big share in the work. Circulars were
sent out to Masters of Hounds asking for money and advice, an appeal was
put in the _Chronicle_, and in a very short time £689 0s. 10d. had been
collected and the building began.
A site was secured from the College authorities for a nominal rent; and
experts were sent to give their advice. Lord Coventry sent the kennel
huntsman of the Queen’s Staghounds. The Head Master (Dr. Warre), the
Bursar, Mr. R. S. de Havilland, the Huntsman and the Twins all proceeded
to the proposed site, and Mr. de Havilland told me he remembered how
Francis, wishing to tip the visitor and having no money on him, boldly
approached Dr. Warre and asked him to lend him a sovereign, which the
Head Master gave with his most amused smile.
The kennels were built on clay on the advice of several Masters of
Hounds. Lord Lonsdale wrote a letter showing how clay and lime should
be put down and how the foundations should be set. Others that gave
advice were Lord Willoughby de Broke, the late Duke of Beaufort, the late
Lord Chesham, Sir Ian Heathcoat Amory, Mr. J. Arkwright and Mr. Godfrey
Heseltine. They were modelled on the kennels of Mr. W. H. Grenfell (now
Lord Desborough), of Taplow Court, where he kept a pack of harriers for
ten years, and where the Old Berkeley Foxhounds were kennelled for some
time. Everything that was defective in the original was corrected in the
copy.
The buildings were finished on February 26th, 1899, and were occupied
a week later. In the meantime a difficulty had arisen about the hounds
remaining at Lock’s in the High Street. So they were removed to a barn
on Agar’s Plough for the time being. It was a great day for the E.C.H.
when on March 3rd they were established for the first time in their own
kennels with their own whole-time kennel huntsman. The building of the
new kennels cost £574 3s. 2d., leaving a balance of £114 17s. 8d. In the
meanwhile an excellent letter appeared in the _Chronicle_ of November
17th, 1898.
“Dear Sir,—As no small amount of controversy is at the present
time taking place on the standard of height best suited to
show sport to a field one and all mounted on shanks’ mare,
I understand that there will shortly be new kennels at Eton
maintained by the School in a satisfactory and orthodox manner,
and I hope in some years they will give shelter to one of the
best packs of beagles in England. I feel that this might be a
suitable time to suggest:
(i) That the Master of beagles should summon a
meeting of present Etonians and any Old Etonians
interested in the subject to decide now and for ever
on the standard of height of the Eton beagles.
(ii) That this standard should be fixed with a view
to showing as much sport to their followers as is
possible in the limited number of hours at their
disposal.
(iii) That the matter should be thoroughly thrashed
out, and that it should not be in the power of
succeeding Masters to change either the standard
of height or type fixed for their benefit by their
predecessors on due consideration.
(iv) That some ‘standard of type’ of hound should be
decided upon; whether it be the true beagle type, the
harrier type with a dash of southern blood, or the
small harrier type (Lilliputian foxhound).
“I think this should induce succeeding Masters to adhere to
some particular type, without which no pack can hope to become
uniform, much less when a different Master is at their head
almost every three years.
“Let us then draw up a standard of both height and type and
depict on paper an Eton beagle. The rest lies with the Master
and his kennelman. Let him
‘For ev’ry longing dame select
Some happy paramour.... Consider well
His lineage; what his fathers did of old,
Chiefs of the pack, and first to climb the rock,
Or plunge into the deep, or thread the brake
With thorns sharp-pointed, plash’d and briars inwoven.
Observe with care his shape, sort, colour, size.’
SOMERVILE.
“From personal experience I know exactly what it should cost
to keep a pack of beagles, and I also know that, the more
carefully your hounds are bred, the more sought after your
breed and Q.E.D. the less your annual expenses.
“I hate radical changes in the dear old place, but I am all for
improvements, and I fail to see how any pack of hounds can be
properly kennelled in the centre of a town. I dare not trespass
further, Mr. Editor, on your space, but at some future time
perhaps I may be allowed to make some few suggestions for the
‘walks’ of the future Peterborough winners bred at Eton. I
apologise for the length of my letter, written with the hope
that it may inspire the young Nimrod to breed and keep a good
class of hound, with which even a not overspeedy Etonian may
possibly see some sport, for
‘Tell me, ye gods, if any sounds
Be half as sweet as t’ hear the hounds.’
_Nov. 12th._
W. H. B.”
[Illustration]
The reply to this came on Nov. 30th, when F. Grenfell wrote a long letter
to the _Chronicle_, in which he informs us that
“Having disposed of all last year’s pack, I have bought an entirely new
pack of hounds, 15½ inches and very level. Though some hounds are rather
lacking in good looks, the pack itself are a level lot and very good
workers.”
This pack was obtained from Mr. P. F. Hancock, of Wivelscombe, Somerset,
a well-known follower of the Devon and Somerset Staghounds. There were
13½ couple in all, and the sum paid was £55. The whole of F. Grenfell’s
letter is printed in an appendix at the end of the book.
But what shall I say of Grenfell’s other innovation, the introduction
of George Champion? He is such a well-known figure to all who have
beagled during the last twenty years that it seems superfluous to give a
description of him. And yet, for the sake of those who have never had the
pleasure of knowing him, I cannot resist making the attempt.
He stands about middle height and his hair is white, but this is almost
the only sign of increasing age. His expression is indescribable; he has
a kind of mild good-humoured sarcastic look which seldom leaves him,
and a pair of eyes that seem to notice everything. Although he wears no
distinctive costume his hounds will sight him three or four hundred yards
away, even though he is standing against a tree or a railway arch, and
when they catch sight of him nothing will stop them from galloping to
meet him, unless they are actually hunting.
At the kennels he is always glad to see you, though he may hide his
pleasure under a somewhat gruff voice. He will never open a conversation
on anything except racing or the weather, but he will answer any question
you put to him, and is always willing to help the seeker after knowledge
in anything concerning hounds; and, like all old men who have knocked
about among hounds all their lives, he can spin a yarn with the best.
For who that hears the name of Champion does not immediately think of the
great huntsman of the Zetland? George Champion is his son, and hails from
Yorkshire. He was himself for some years a whipper-in to the Zetland and
to Lord Tredegar’s Foxhounds until he met with an accident rendering fox
hunting for him an impossibility. He can well remember his father hunting
hounds in Cambridgeshire, as well as in the Zetland country, and he has
inherited his knowledge and love of hounds and hunting. All his brothers
possess the same family instinct. A brother was for some time before his
death a few years ago huntsman of the Cheshire. Another brother, Fred, is
now kennelman to a pack of draghounds in Holland. A third, Bob, is first
whipper in to the North Shropshire. It was a great piece of luck that
Francis Grenfell should have been able to secure such a man as George
Champion.
[Illustration: 1.40 P.M.]
G. K. Dunning, Master in 1912, gives him high praise, but every bit of it
is deserved.
“You asked me in your letter about G. Champion. His position as kennel
huntsman to the E.C.H. was, I think, rather a unique one, as in most
cases the Master’s knowledge of kennel management was negligible,[6] and
a great deal of responsibility thus fell on Champion’s shoulders.
“Champion knew his work thoroughly; the Master generally did not (but
thought he did—I speak from my own experience), and small wonder if
Champion was apt to lay down the law to the new Master. He always did
well with the bitches and their whelps in the summer, and had hounds
fit by October, taking them for road exercise on a bicycle with his boy
‘Gidge’ to whip in. After Christmas, when we hunted three or four days a
week, it was no easy job for him to bring out a pack of ten-twelve couple
from a kennel of well under twenty couple. Yet we never seemed to have a
‘short pack’ out. Champion knew the country and the run of the hares, and
was on good terms with the farmers. He was not a great runner, but always
seemed to be there when really wanted. Especially was this the case when
hounds crossed the railway line. He was not a man of polished manners;
his style being more blunt; and any one who did not know him would think
him sulky. And I remember his invariable way of taking an order was with
the words, ‘Ooh, ah!’
“I think you would go a long way before finding a better man for the job
than George Champion.”
Certainly George Champion is not sulky. Blunt he is, but it is his
Yorkshire way, and he is always pleasant. Only the other day a little
incident occurred at the kennels which illustrates this bluntness.
Champion was sitting by his fireside, enjoying a well-earned rest and
planning his daily “doubles.” Hearing what he imagined to be a young
Etonian after eggs (which he always has for sale), he called out, “Hullo,
what do _you_ want?”
“I’ve come to see the hounds,” said a voice.
“Well, go on through then; they ain’t worth looking at.”
“I walked two of them as puppies,” said the voice, this time obviously
that of a lady. Of course Champion was up immediately, only too keen to
display his hounds to the best advantage and full of apologies for his
apparent rudeness.
Champion always has a circle of boys clustered round him on Sunday after
twelves, and it is one of the greatest pleasures I know at Eton to go
to the kennels and talk hunting with him. Once after a good run early
in the present season I had to go and tell a farmer about some cattle
which had broken through a fence in the Ditton country, and I reached the
kennels just in time to see hounds fed after hunting. Afterwards I had
tea with the Champions, and a very good tea too, and when I got up to go
home I found a beautiful ripe apple ready for me to take. We yarned all
the time, and he told me of his Yorkshire days and then of the time he
was with a pack of bassets, “that ’ud run an old woman down a path; I’ve
see’d ’em do it, Sir,” and then also he mentioned the accident that put
an end to his fox-hunting career and which did not occur when actually
hunting. It must have been a great blow to him, especially as he was the
eldest son of so great a huntsman; but he is devoted to beagling now, and
takes an immense pride in his hounds.
Champion, when he was young, was an excellent runner and won a great many
long distance races. To-day he scarcely ever goes out of a walk, but he
is always viewing the hunted hare and is almost always in at the kill. He
knows the run of the hares so well that he is continually getting very
useful views.
[Illustration: A TYPICAL INCIDENT.]
The other day I went to the kennels to try and get him to yarn about the
Grenfells. He was not to be drawn, however, and was much too full of the
defeat of Tishy in the Cesarewitch for me to secure many stories. At last
I asked him how they behaved to each other.
“Ah, there you have me puzzled,” said Champion. “I never knew what to
make of ’em. They used to curse each other somethin’ awful before every
one. But they were good friends at heart, I believe.”
It was singularly hard luck that Francis Grenfell should have been
prevented from beagling after the first three weeks of the Half by a bad
attack of bronchitis. It was typical of his generous manly nature to say
that “being twins it was only right that we should be first and second
and that I should hunt my share and then fall ill and give him his.
Throughout he has been my right hand, and to him as much as to me is due
the honour of having built new kennels to start the hunt on such a firm
footing.”
Grenfell’s other two whips were E. B. Denison and H. K. Longman, son of
the Master of the E.C.H. in 1870 and 1871. To him belongs the distinction
of being the only Master of the E.C.H. who has been the son of a former
Master, with the exception of S. A. Parker, Master in 1917, son of A. E.
Parker, Master in 1882 and 1883. Grenfell’s actual season calls for no
particular comment. No more does that of H. K. Longman, who succeeded
him in office. In fact this season was the worst so far as regards kills
since the new pack was obtained, with the exception of the 1920 season
when the kennels contained only six couples of old hounds. However, at
the end of the Easter Half, 1900, there was a balance of about £300.
It was extremely fortunate that Longman should have been succeeded by
R. G. Howard-Vyse (now Col.), the son of the Master and owner of the
Stoke Place Beagles. Mr. Howard-Vyse (the father) took the champion cup
at Peterborough many times with his beagles, and before Christmas had
the right of hunting over the same country as the E.C.H. His son hunted
the E.C.H. for two seasons and did much to improve the pack. During
his Mastership he obtained leave from the Head Master to hunt first
from St. Andrew’s Day (Nov. 30th) and then from Nov. 15th.[7] He also
made arrangements with his father, who was always exceedingly kind to
the E.C.H. and never made any objections to their hunting previous to
Christmas, arranging his meets so as to avoid clashing with them.
Howard-Vyse used all the balance left over from the expenses of the
two previous years in building a cottage for Champion and in raising
oak palings round the kennel paddock. Both of these innovations were
necessary; it was a good thing that he decided to build a cottage, as
Champion would not otherwise have remained with the E.C.H.
These are Howard-Vyse’s personal recollections:
“It has been great fun to read my accounts over again, but I fear I have
little or nothing to add to them. In fact I can think of two comments
only:
(_a_) I fancy I was the first Master to get permission for the
field to come out beagling during the Winter Half; in the year
after me it was dropped, because the Master was also first
keeper of the Field; but it was continued afterwards, I see,
though I don’t know whether it still goes on. It seems rather
ridiculous to keep a pack of hounds all the year round for nine
weeks’ hunting.
(_b_) The running capacities of the staff of my second year
(1901-1902) were rather a record:
Self Winner of Steeplechase 1901.
Wilson 2nd in ” 1901.
Lambert Winner of ” 1902.
Drake 2nd in ” 1902.
“My first year was undoubtedly a very moderate one; we had some baddish
hounds and it was a shocking scenting season. The second season was much
better, and at the time I thought it very good indeed. But as a matter of
fact I should think, looking back with my present experience, that the
E.C.H. have probably had many even better seasons since.
“This I should put down to an improvement in the hounds, which began
from the time of the Grenfells, two years before me, but did not bear
full fruit till after my time. In this connection it was probably a big
advantage, apart from any personal ability, that in six years there were
only four Masters—myself and Wroughton each twice, and Romer Williams was
a good hound man.
“Before the Grenfell twins the whole thing was a very scratch concern,
and it would be difficult to exaggerate the debt which the E.C.H. owe to
their memory. It requires tremendous push and energy to start the whole
thing on a fresh basis, and to raise £1000 for the purpose, which is what
they did.
“They were the keenest fellows I ever met; devoted to one another really,
but out beagling they constantly cursed one another into heaps. The
first hare I killed in my first season, February 5th, 1901, is the hunt
I remember best. Chiefly because there wasn’t an atom of scent, and I
really ran her to death myself (she must have been very weak!). Hounds
were behind, instead of in front of me, most of the way; and we tracked
and viewed her practically all the way from the Bath Road near Cippenham
to the river at Boveney. There was snow on the ground, and we kept on
seeing her about half a mile ahead on the big fields between Cippenham
and Dorney Common. I nearly ran my inside out; and eventually, when she
was in the river, had to go in up to my middle to get her out.”
If I had to mention any Master whom Champion talks about more than the
others, it would be C. Romer Williams, who hunted the E.C.H. in 1904.
Champion avows that the reason why he was so successful was that he was
not really a first flighter, and by the time he had come up hounds had
had plenty of time to fling for themselves, and then, says Champion,
“he always did the right thing.” It might be claimed that last year’s
Master, T. C. Barnett-Barker, showed excellent sport for the same
reason. Certainly he was never in the first flight, but his patience and
perseverance were inexhaustible, and they seldom went unrewarded.
Mr. Romer Williams writes:
“I had a very nice lot of hounds when I was Master, about twenty couple
as far as I can remember, and only had one real bit of bad luck, having
three hounds killed on the railway near Burnham Beeches station one day.
“I was the first Master to hunt during the Winter Half, but no ‘field’
was allowed, only self and whips. During the Christmas holidays I took
the hounds home to Northamptonshire, and we had great sport, though
they went terribly fast in that grass country. One night, coming home,
Champion got cramp in the stomach and fell off the ‘hound van,’ and I
nearly drove over him and put an end to his career.
“The best hunt I had was from near Butts to Beaconsfield Common—a point
of about eight miles, I suppose. The best day was an ‘invitation’ meet at
Colonel Van de Weyer’s—the other side of the river. We caught the first
hare in the river after a good hunt of about an hour, then a second one
in the open after a very fast and straight twenty minutes or so, and
finally yet a third also in the open after a wonderful hunt of about two
hours. But all this is in the diary, and I may now be exaggerating.
“The invitation meets at Wooburn, Col. Gilbey’s place, always used to
kill me. Those hills were the devil! Col. Gilbey’s son Ronald was my
first whip, and I generally used to throw the horn at him, as he was a
far better runner than I.
“Not many Masters came out as a rule, but Mr. Robeson and Mr. Slater
were fairly regular attendants, if I remember rightly; also ‘Havvy’
on horseback. I never missed a single day all the time I was at Eton.
Seasons 1900-1904.
“I believe my year was the last of the old Norfolk jacket livery, and I
was sorry they changed it—especially the buttons to brass ones. Next time
I come to Eton I will seek you out and will tell you anything else you
want to know. Anyway I’d rather be Master of the E.C.H. than anything
else. Wouldn’t you?”
C. R. H. Wiggin, now joint Master of the Brocklesby Hounds in
Lincolnshire, also sent me his recollections of beagling at Eton.
“I have always been extremely keen about the E.C.H., and can never forget
how much I enjoyed my hunting at Eton. Season 1902-03 A. F. Lambert was
Master, I myself was first whip, K. I. Nicholl second whip, and St. J.
M. Lambert third whip. Archie Lambert was a fine runner, and won the
School Steeplechase, and was a good Master. He was a great athlete, kept
the Field in which XI. I played myself in 1902, and was also in the
Cricket XI. He died in E. Africa; no better fellow ever lived. As far as
I remember, we only had two days’ hunting in the Christmas Half, one of
them a good day; we found a hare in the field behind the kennels, and
after a good hunt killed her in the Moat which runs round Ditton Park. We
had a good season during the Easter Half of 1903, and beagling was then
very popular at Eton. I regret I have no diary, but I remember one day
from Salt Hill railway bridge. We found on Salt Hill, and killed a good
hare after about an hour. We then found again on Salt Hill, and after a
turn round the hill crossed the G.W.R. and leaving Chalvey on our left
and Butts on our right killed her on the G.W. Railway Slough to Windsor.
Time, 1 hour 15 min.
[Illustration: HIS LUCKY DAY.]
“I remember another topping hunt from Salt Hill with Dorney Village
on our right, and killing a good hare in the Thames above Athens, but
I cannot remember if this was 1903 or the year before; I think 1903.
Nicholl and St. J. M. Lambert have not hunted, I think, much since. I am
at present joint Master and huntsman of the Brocklesby Hounds with Lord
Yarborough, who you will know owns them. Of hounds at my time I fear I
do not remember very much. ‘Comrade,’ walked by myself, was an excellent
hare hunter, and so was ‘Ranter,’ both large hounds. ‘Witchcraft’ was
a rare bitch to catch a hare, and ‘Witchery,’ her sister, a good line
hunter. We had a very good invitation meet or two, notably with Gilbey
at Marlow, and, I believe, with Howard-Vyse at Stoke. I remember running
hard one day in 1908 from Remenham to the London Road beyond Colnbrook,
where we lost our hare.”
In 1905, Dr. Warre resigned his position as Head Master of Eton to the
great regret of everyone concerned with the beagles. However he became
Provost and continued his connection with the School. Champion always
swears by him. He used occasionally to go to see the kennels, and always
took a kindly interest in the hunt. It was a severe blow to the hunt
when he gave up, and it could truly say in the words of a contemporary
magazine:
“Your road joined ours long years ago,
You found our inmost heart;
The roads diverge again, and so
We part.
We said your work was past, ah no!
’Tis you alone are gone:
The work you did, the debt we owe,
Live on.”
Indeed his work lives on. He had warded off the most severe attacks of
the Humanitarian League, and he had set the examples for Head Masters to
come. The late Head Master continued the good work, and the Humanitarians
have long since ceased to trouble the E.C.H.
G. W. Barclay, son of E. E. Barclay, who is Master of the Puckeridge
Foxhounds, was a wonderful heavy-weight runner. He was Master in 1909-10,
and had a good season. Champion tells a story of how, at a meet near Bray
on the other side of the river, Barclay found himself confronted by an
enormous dyke. He plunged boldly in, but, being heavy, stuck near the far
side. Champion crossed with difficulty, and by dint of a great deal of
pulling and tugging Barclay emerged on the right side, minus his beagling
shoes. These were finally rescued by Champion, and the hunt proceeded.
Afterwards, when they were sumptuously entertained by, I think, Col. Van
de Weyer, Barclay borrowed a pair of flannel trousers which fitted him
passably well as he stood up. When, however, he sat down to tea there
was a loud crack closely resembling the tearing of flannel, and Barclay
backed hastily from the room amid much confusion on his part and laughter
from the rest of the party.
Previous to Barclay, S. G. Menzies had hunted hounds for two seasons
with signal success, killing twenty-four and twenty-five hares. Not
only was he successful in the hunting field itself, but also he was
extraordinarily popular with the farmers. He used to write and thank the
farmer on whose land was found any hare that gave them a real good hunt.
But Menzies really made his name as a killer of foxes. He hunted five
foxes in all, killing three and running two to ground, one of which was
evicted and killed. The first fox to be killed was on Nov. 17th. Here is
the account in the Beagle Book.
“Went to Dorney after the foxes. We failed to find, however, either
in Dorney Court or in the Water Oakley plantations, but, on drawing a
turnip field at the back of the village, a fox was viewed away, and
getting hounds on close behind raced away over Cippenham Big Field
towards Chalvey Marsh. However, he swung right-handed for Mr. Tarrant’s
land and passed Butts to the Line. Here he headed left for Chalvey and
crossed the Line close by and went to Willowbrook, where he lay down in
a thick fence. Putting him up, he made for the Slough Road, but being
headed doubled back through the pack, over Mesopotamia and into the Lower
Master’s[8] garden, where he got under some logs. However, hounds pushed
him out into Jordan and over the Field, eventually killing a full-grown
cub in the Fives Courts, after a very fast hunt of 30 minutes. Truly a
triumph for beagles. Point of 2½ miles.”
The other great run after a fox found close to Dorney resulted in a kill
in the open close to where he was found after a hunt of 55 minutes, very
fast, in which a great deal of country was crossed.
K. S. M. Gladstone, who still keeps a pack of beagles in the New Forest,
has sent me a letter in which he describes his hunting experiences at
Eton.
“I was third whip to Geoffrey (‘Tim’) Barclay (C.M.W.) during the season
1909-1910. He (Barclay) was one of the very best sportsmen and Etonians
I have ever had the fortune to meet. He was the son of Mr. Barclay,
the present Master of the Puckeridge Foxhounds, and I had the good
fortune also to whip in to him with the T.F.B.[9] at Cambridge before
war broke out. He was always very quiet, but entirely thorough when
hunting hounds, and was a real good judge of a hound himself. During
the War I met him in Flanders, just before he was killed serving with
the Rifle Brigade. He was the same as ever, and from every account as
good a soldier as he was a sportsman and Etonian. I still have a vivid
recollection of a hunt during Barclay’s Mastership. We met at Dorney
Village on March 8th, 1910. We found in Thames Big Field and ran nearly
to Taplow, and then sharp back parallel with the river past Boveney
Church and across Dorney Common to the Sanatorium and over the Golf Links
to Cuckoo Weir Bridge. Here the hare swam the river, which was in high
flood, and ‘made’ the other bank nearly 100 yards lower down stream.
Luckily a punt was handy, and, though we lost more ground (or rather
water) than our hare had, Barclay took two and a half couple of his
best hounds with him, ‘Warwick,’ ‘Leicester,’ ‘Driver,’ ‘Fairplay’ and
‘Dauntless,’ and killed his hare in the paddock on Windsor Racecourse
after a very fine hunting run of an hour and 33 minutes. We had several
other good hunts that season, but the one described above remains more
vivid than some of the others.
“As regards my own Mastership in 1910-1911. It was through no fault of
my own that we had (up till then) a record season and killed 13½ brace
of hares in 36 hunting days. The three whips, L. C. Gibbs, W. P. Browne,
now Master of Lord Portman’s Foxhounds, and W. Holland-Hibbert, were all
experts and just as capable, and probably more so, of killing a hare as
I was. The previous Masters, Menzies and Barclay, had between them bred
from the best hunting strains and moulded a good working pack, all of
which were workers, and this is a great asset in a pack of beagles. No
word of praise can be too high for Champion for what he has done for
the E.C.H. His position is probably unique, as all past and present
Etonian members of the E.C.H. must know, and yet, though he always had
his hounds fit and well, and despite the fact that he practically lived
with them, he was always able to ‘put hounds on’ to the Master and to
render valuable assistance in whipping in and getting some very useful
‘views.’ This is a hard accomplishment to achieve when a kennel huntsman
has to feed and exercise hounds, and when the Master and huntsman has
very little time to get his hounds to know him well and properly, or
to supervise kennel management himself. It was a rare occurrence to
have a sick hound in kennel during the hunting season, and the kennels
themselves were always spick and span and clean. He was good company
always, and I have spent many Sunday and other afternoons in listening
to his yarns of hounds and hunts gone by. I recall well one afternoon
during an Ascot week when I went up to the kennels. Champion had talked
more than usual, and the subject was so absorbing that I quite forgot
about Absence, and had to chase Mr. Booker down Keate’s Lane to try and
explain my absence. The explanation was accepted. Perhaps Mr. Booker had
forgotten that we made rather a mess in his garden where I killed my
first hare with the E.C.H.! The kennels at Datchet still must be the best
beagle kennels in England.
“There is one point I would like to bring up, though it is no concern of
mine. That is the breeding of hounds at Eton. Far too little breeding
seems to have taken place always. It is much more interesting and better
to breed your own hounds from approved working strains than to be
compelled to buy hounds whose hunting qualifications and those of their
sires and dams are usually unknown. There is naturally no great incentive
for a Master, who can only look forward to hunting hounds one season, to
breed a lot of puppies when he may never see them hunt a hare.
“All the same, now the War is over, it is suggested, say for two or three
seasons, that every good hunting bitch be bred from, and good stud dogs
in other packs used, providing of course there are not good stud dogs
within the kennel. Fresh blood is always good, and I know the temptation
of using your own best stallion hound too much. There must be many keen
subscribers to the E.C.H. who would be only too pleased to walk puppies,
and it will add to their keenness immensely to see their own ‘walks’
hunting, and to follow their career as long as they are at Eton. It is
far better, I think, to breed hounds to hunt and not to win cups, and
a bad motive to sacrifice hunting powers for looks, but it is possible
to combine both, and it would be very pleasing for all Old Etonians
interested in beagling, and a great credit to the Master of the E.C.H.,
if he were to produce beagles capable of winning at the annual Harrier
and Beagle Show at Peterborough.
“I had one red-letter day during my Mastership. It was from Remenham
on February 11th, 1911. A hare was found on the plough near the Park,
and after a circle opposite the ‘Bells of Ouseley’ hounds pushed her
away towards Wraysbury station, where the railway was crossed. Without
a semblance of a check Horton village was passed on the right and the
hare swam the River Colne. A fine stretch of grass country lay in front
and hounds were now screaming. Past Wraysbury Butts the line lay over
the Colnbrook Line to Staines Moor, where our hare squatted near Staines
station. Hounds worked up to her, but she kept a straight mask, and
leaving Staines town on her right entered one of the big reservoirs there
and was drowned three minutes in front of hounds after a wonderful hunt
of an hour and fifteen minutes. It was about eight miles as hounds ran
and a five mile point. All the hounds were up at the end, as were only
the keenest of the field; the hound van had managed to get up to us,
and we took as many back to Eton as we could _in it_ and on top of it,
while the late Mr. P. J. de Paravicini loaded his pony cart with as many
boys as possible. The rest got back to Eton ‘somehow,’ a little late
for lock-up perhaps, but it was worth it. I warned m’tutor, Mr. R. S.
de Havilland, who was then Hon. Treasurer and Secretary of the E.C.H.,
that he might have some complaints the next day, and that I was to
blame, as I forgot in the excitement of the hunt to send the field home.
But nothing happened, and it goes to prove that the E.C.H. field is an
orderly and sensible one, which does not take advantage of its freedom
but appreciates it and its responsibilities.
“When I was Master I had several letters from the Humanitarian Society,
and anonymous ones, no doubt emanating from the same source. The
former were replied to after good advice given by the Head Master,
Dr. Lyttelton, and m’tutor, Mr. de Havilland. The anonymous ones were
destroyed! If hare hunting or hunting of any form is to be stopped, I am
sure Eton will be the last to give in. Its advantages are so many and so
well known that it would be a waste of time to quote them, but I feel
that the ‘kill-sports’ think they have an easy prey in attacking College
and School packs, while they practically ignore the many other hundreds
of packs of hounds in the United Kingdom.
“The size of the hounds at Eton has always been a great source of
discussion. You have only, say, two and a half hours on a short winter
afternoon to find, hunt and kill your hare, and while 16 and 17-inch
hounds do not allow many people to see them hunting, a 14-inch hound is a
little too small to give the Master a fair chance to handle his hare in a
short time with a large eager field behind him and maybe a moderate scent.
“I would advocate a 15-inch hound as a standard size for the E.C.H.
My father gave me leave to start a small pack at home in 1908. It
consisted of two and a half couples kindly given me by Mr. George Miller,
originally Master of the Spring Hill Beagles. It grew to seven or eight
couples, and during the holidays of 1908, 1909, 1910 we had great fun in
Essex, with two sporting farmers to whip in, and killed 27 hares in 65
hunting days. The E.C.H. came home one Christmas holidays, and we had the
hound van, which was drawn by two grey carriage horses and looked most
imposing. Old Mumford, who had a pub. near Windsor Bridge, and who was
the keenest follower of all of the E.C.H., stayed with us these holidays,
and was greatly liked by all. The above took place at Braxted in Essex.
“We have still got a pack and hunt the New Forest in Hampshire. The pack
belonged to the late Sir Frederick FitzWygram, himself an Old Etonian,
and was known as the Leigh Park Beagles. They are a splendid lot. Last
year we killed 17½ brace of hares in 44 days. The Forest hares are
strong, and we hardly ever killed one under the hour, and it often took
two hours.”
One day from Dorney Gate the E.C.H. burst up four hares, none of which
were actually chopped. This is a record, and is likely to remain one, at
Eton.
Some Masters used to take the hounds home with them in the holidays.
Romer Williams, Gladstone and Gibbs did this, and hounds fairly raced in
the Pytchley country where Romer Williams lived. Champion does not like
taking the hounds away from Eton nowadays, but prefers to find someone in
the district to hunt them. For the last two years they have been hunted
by Mr. Judd, who lives close to Stoke Poges, and handles hounds with
considerable ability.
G. K. Dunning (who only gave up the Mastership of the Trinity Foot
Beagles last season) created what was up till then a record for hares
killed. He accounted for 33 hares and one fox in 45 hunting days. He has
sent me some details of his beagling days at Eton.
“One day we went to Fifield Cross Roads on the other side of the river,
Col. Van de Weyer having as usual kindly given permission.
“Late in the afternoon, after a fair day’s sport, hounds picked up a line
which at first we all thought to be a hare’s. But as they went on and
got closer to their quarry the old hounds began to get their ‘hackles’
up, and a few minutes later they ran into a fox in the middle of the
village—a fortunate release for him, as he had had a trap on his leg,
poor thing. The sporting Rector of the place was passing at the time (it
is Garth F.H. territory) and was horrified at seeing a fox pulled down
like this, but was satisfied when we showed him the trap.
“This meet at Fifield was a very good one, and we generally went there on
whole holidays with about a dozen specially invited beaglers in a second
horse-brake. Col. Van de Weyer was always very good about giving leave,
and generally sent a mounted groom to stop hounds from the fox coverts on
the hill.
“The best bit of country was on the river side of the road, nearly all
grass. I had a very good day there in my season. The first hare hounds
caught in the river after 25 minutes, but she sank and was not recovered,
though St. George dived for her several times. The next hare was killed
on the golf course after 1 hour 15 minutes. Very pretty hunting, and a
third was also accounted for after a short hunt.
“The other two bits of the country I liked best were Dorney (Village
and Gate) and Remenham. There was generally a fox at Dorney beyond the
village, and we killed one there in 1913, but without much of a run.
“I think trying to catch a fox with beagles (unless it is a very bad
fox or a cripple, both of which should be killed) is an unsatisfactory
game, as hounds always take some time to settle down again to a hare. I
remember hearing complaints just after the War that the Motor Dépôt at
Salt Hill would cut a very large and important slice out of the E.C.H.
country. Personally I should have been quite glad never to have hunted
there at all, owing to innumerable hares and the risk of the G.W.R. main
line. At the same time Mr. Christie-Miller of Britwell was always glad
to see the E.C.H., but certainly before the War the number of hares was
heart-breaking. Talking of the railway reminds me of the only occasion
where I saw a hound of the E.C.H. killed on the line. It was in Gibbs’
season, and hounds had checked by the railway bridge at Remenham. We
heard a train coming, and as it approached were sure that hounds were
‘all on.’ But May and I had made a mistake, and one puppy had gone across
into the little spinney beyond the line, and now came back right under
the train.
“But after hunting near the G.W.R., with its express every two minutes,
it was maddening to lose a hound on the Datchet Line. Yet this is just
what happened with the Trinity Beagles at Cambridge before the War. The
accident happened on the rotten little line to Mildenhall!
“As regards the Masters at Eton who came out, I can remember seeing
Messrs. Dobbs, Churchill, Slater and Young, but the most regular beagler
was Mr. Dobbs.
“Reference will have been made by my predecessors to the late Mr. R.
S. de Havilland for all he did for the E.C.H., not only in keeping the
finances straight, but in taking ‘bills off absence’ to distant meets
on whole holidays, and often I fear putting himself to considerable
inconvenience by doing so.
“I remember in my year we had run a hare from Dorney at a great pace and
killed in his garden, hounds had broken up their hare, and only a very
mauled pad was saved, which I did not think worth having set up for him.
However, he was anxious to have something to mark the event, so Jefferies
in the High Street did his best, and I hope the moth has not yet got into
it.
“The E.C.H. had one thick-and-thin supporter before the War in ‘Old Mum.’
Mr. Mumford kept a public near the Bridge. As far as I remember, he never
missed a day, nor did anyone ever see him run, yet he was always viewing
the hunted hare and was invaluable. We used to take him on the hound van
for long distance meets, and I hope he goes beagling still. He was one of
the best.
“In conclusion I may say that it is a great relief to know that the
E.C.H. is on its legs again and showed such good sport last season. The
packs at Oxford and Cambridge will now be able to staff themselves from
‘old hands,’ and that means a lot. If one can offer any advice to future
Masters of the E.C.H. (and it certainly seems presumptuous), I would
say, try and spend more time with hounds in the kennels and at exercise,
and get to know your kennel management thoroughly. And, if it ever is
possible, get the pack into the stud book.”
There was one disastrous incident in L. C. Gibbs’ year, 1911-12, which
Dunning has described for me.
“_The Stoke Park Tragedy._ We had met at Salt Hill, I think, and after
one circle hounds hunted their hare into Stoke Park, where they checked.
(Here let me say that there are fallow deer in the Park, that the ground
was very soft, particularly the putting greens, and that a ‘medal round’
was being played on the course.)
“Well, a herd of deer was close by and suddenly took fright and galloped
off. Up went hounds’ heads, and then the fun began. Some one was out with
us on horseback, I think S. G. Menzies, a late Master of the E.C.H.,
and he did everything in his power to stop them, as they drove the deer
round and round the golf course and across the greens, to the horror of
the players. Finally they divided, and, while the Master got to one half
as they were swimming their quarry in the lake and stopped them, I found
three or four couple had pulled down, a deer in the wood behind the club
house.
[Illustration: G. K. DUNNING’S YEAR. 1913.]
“Getting hounds together the Master left the Park as soon as possible,
but that did not by any means close the incident as far as the golf
club authorities were concerned, and I think the hunt paid substantial
damages.”
The season 1913-14 is the record one up to date. C. C. Hilton Green
was Master till Christmas, and afterwards R. D. Crossman, son of Mr.
D. Crossman, the present joint Master of the Cambridgeshire Foxhounds.
Thirty-eight hares were killed in 49 hunting days.
How can I end this chapter better than by quoting the description of the
best run the Eton Beagles ever had, with a point of seven miles? It took
place in 1904, when Romer Williams was Master.
“Tuesday, March 8th, was a day to be remembered, from the Prince of
Wales. We found a hare directly, but lost her near the Sanatorium after
20 minutes. Found again in a plough near Eton Wick, and they fairly raced
away straight as a die up to Headington’s Farm. Here we met our hunted
hare coming back, with ‘Crafty’ in close attendance, who shortly killed
her. Meanwhile the pack had gone on with another hare as hard as they
could go, and quite straight past Headington’s to the G.W.R., and over
that past Atkins’ to the top of Lynch Hill, where they checked for the
first time. We then seized the opportunity of breaking up ‘Crafty’s’
hare, and then going forward we put up a hare in the next field and
ran like the devil himself straight over to Burnham Beeches, leaving
Farnham Royal on our right. Through the Beeches they went and on to
Beaconsfield Common, where we whipped off as soon as we could, as some
hounds were still in the Beeches. Eton Wick to Beaconsfield is seven
miles as straight as the crow flies, with absolutely never a turn. Time,
75 minutes.”
Champion has told me that this was quite the best hunt he has ever seen
with beagles, and I doubt whether many better runs could be found in any
of the records of hare hunting in the British Isles.
[Illustration: HIS MASTER’S VOICE.]
[Illustration]