CHAPTER V King Henry VIII. and Queen Elizabeth passionately fond of hunting—John Selwyn's remarkable feat in the hunting field; the monument at Walton-on-Thames—Don Quixote and his steed, Rosinante; Peter of Provence's wooden horse, Babieca; Clavileno and the Cid's horse—Mary Queen of Scots' favourite horses—Queen Elizabeth's retinue of 2400 horses—Arundel, Aquiline, Brigadore—The horses of Anatolia and Syria—Sir Robert Carey's historic ride from London to Edinburgh in sixty hours—The horses of Napoleon I. So far as hunting was concerned, Henry VIII. was, as we know, a keen sportsman, and Queen Elizabeth would appear to have been almost an equally enthusiastic sportsman. Passionately devoted to the chase, nothing gave her greater pleasure than to see “the quarry broken up before her.” Statements to this effect are to be found in the works of three trustworthy writers at least, so we may take it that the records are approximately accurate. The queen “loved to be on horseback for its own sake,” and was fond of open air at all times. It is in connection with Elizabeth's partiality for the chase that the story is told of a man named John Selwyn, for many years under keeper of the park at Oaklands, in Surrey, where some of the queen's hunters were usually stabled during the autumn and winter. Selwyn must in several ways have been a remarkable character, but it is with his horsemanship only that we have here to deal. On the occasion, then, of a great stag hunt which the queen had arranged should take place in the park at Oaklands, Selwyn was “chief in attendance”—in other words, huntsman. Suddenly, as we are told, a stag was started. When it had been hunted only a short time, a fear was expressed by the queen that it would escape, “the animal having proved of such unusual swiftness that it was feared the hounds would not be able to overtake it.” Determined that this should not happen, “Selwyn pressed spurs to his horse, and galloping at an angle, and sideways,” succeeded in coming alongside the stag as it was about to turn off abruptly. At once the enthusiasm and excitement of the spectators, especially of the queen, became intense; nor did it abate when they saw Selwyn, still galloping at top speed, neck and neck with the stag, suddenly vault right off his horse's back on to the stag's, “where he kept his seat gracefully in spite of every effort of the affrighted beast to throw him off.” Thus he galloped on for some yards, the queen and all the spectators wondering what he would do next. They were not kept long in suspense. Of a sudden Selwyn swiftly but calmly drew out his hunting knife. Then he began to prod the animal with its point, first on one side of its neck, then on the other, until at last he succeeded in forcing the stag to gallop round to a point within a few yards of the very spot where the queen sat waiting.