The Blackmoor Vale is a fine hunting country, and none residing thereabouts, having a bit of horseflesh to call their own, but do a bit of hunting, and as a consequence few of No. 6 Corps were absent. However, nothing was said about the drill, and a fox being found down in the bottom, away we went. Straight riding and a firm seat was wanted, the country selected being heavy, with double ditches and banks, pleasingly interspersed with oak rails, or stakes and bounds. A moment's breathing in the woods of Fonthill, and on again, killing at last almost on the highway leading to Frome. "This isn't drill, Mr. Jefferys," said the adjutant to one of the best sergeants a volunteer corps ever possessed, as that officer touched him on the back with his hunting whip, whilst the two splashed into the mud making soft the landing from a drop leap. "Law, no, sir. We've forgotten all about it," was the reply, and in another moment we joined the few in at the death. There were excuses and apologies, and by the time these were done and the fox eaten, Sir R----, the very taciturn master, remounted, and calling off the hounds, proceeded at a sharp trot in an opposite direction. With the view of finding another fox, many of the field followed, and as Sir R---- rode straight, there was more than one obstacle overcome and fall received, observing which, and that they were mistaken in following him, he called out, "Shan't hunt any more to-day. Kennels," and continued his route, whilst all whose homes were elsewhere pulled up somewhat disgusted. The disappointed Englishman had his growl, and as we retraced our steps towards the Frome road Lieutenant Harding proposed "a drill after all, as we are," and with an echo from Captain Festing and the high approval of the adjutant, "Across country to the Bradley Inn" was given, and before half-an-hour had expired, with daylight just sufficient to conceal blundering, some thirty broad-shouldered men in tops and breeches, bespattered with mud, and fall-marks plentiful, fell into the ranks and did an hour's very hard drill. This finished, and remounting, all returned home. It was in consequence of the feeling of national insecurity pervading people's minds at the time, that in October, 1859, an inquiry was sent through the Estate Office to the tenantry and others by Earl St. Maur, eldest son of the Duke of Somerset, whether they would be willing to form a volunteer corps under him for defensive purposes, and if so, who would be willing to join. A favourable response was given, and a number of names sent in as willing to join the "Maiden Bradley Irregulars."