“When I went to Eton in 1864 there were two packs of beagles, Collegers’ which hunted east of Slough Road, and Oppidans’ which hunted west of Slough Road. Hares in the Oppidans’ country were very scarce indeed, and hunting depended on an occasional bag-fox, which ought to have been tabooed, and a drag, the latter a poor game for us youngsters who toiled along and never saw a hound after first field. The packs were amalgamated in 1866. The Oppidans’ pack had been kept up town, very poor kennels and badly done. After the amalgamation the kennels were at the end of the Playing Fields, and more trouble was taken that the hounds were better done. There was no hunting before Christmas, only after, till the end of March. At best the hounds were only a scratch lot, different boys getting their people to keep one or a couple most of the year. I whipped in to F. Johnstone in the spring of 1869; his father, I think, was then Master of what we now call the Derwent, and he knew all about it and was quite good at the game. One whip was an Oppidan, the other a Colleger. I don’t think my Colleger had ever been out hunting before, and, as Johnstone expected his hounds turned when he wanted them, I had nearly all the work to do; cracked up in consequence. It was very hard work in those days; we could not start till after Absence, had then to run to the meet, get a hunt and run home again in time for lock-up, never having more than three hours to do it all in, no allowance being made to the whips. “I remember one day in particular, Johnstone was not out and I was hunting hounds the far side of Langley; we had quite a good run and killed—a great event in those days. Just as we had taken off pads and mask, up jumped a fresh hare, away the pack went with a burning scent, and it was a long time before we could get at them to stop them. It was getting dark, and quite five miles from home, no chance of getting in for lock-up, but we had the hare! So it was duly carried, such an object it looked, without feet or ears and stiff as a stake, and left with our compliments at the Head’s house, the clock struck nine as we stood there. I suppose we were all reported for coming in so late, but we never heard anything more. I suppose the hare was a peace-offering. “In autumn of 1869, I remember, Jack Thompson (Mr. Anstruther Thompson’s eldest son), George Wickham and I, all very keen, went to several of the farmers and did our best to get them to keep hares, and we certainly were better off the next year. There were hardly any hares on the Dorney side; beyond Salt Hill and Langley were best, but nowhere good. In those days we never got a day off for a hunt; I only remember one, to Oakley Court, where we were most hospitably entertained but had a blank day. When at Eton last June I had a look at hounds and kennels. Very different from old days, kennels roomy, airy and clean, and hounds with a nice bloom on them ready to go into work when wanted.”