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perly, seldom know enough of hunting to be of much use to them afterwards. Though a huntsman cannot be too fond of hunting, a whipper-in easily may. His business will seldom allow him to be forward enough with the hounds to see much of the sport. His only thought therefore should be to keep the hounds together, and to contribute as much as he can to the killing of the fox: keeping the hounds together is the surest means to make them steady. When left to themselves they seldom refuse any blood they can get; they become conceited; learn to tie upon the scent; and besides this they frequently get a trick of hunting by themselves, and are seldom good for much afterwards. Every country is soon known; and nine foxes out of ten, with the wind in the same quarter, will follow the same track. It is easy therefore for the whipper-in to cut short and catch the hounds again. With a high scent you cannot push on hounds too much. Screams keep the fox forward, at the same time that they keep the hounds together, or let in the tail hounds: they also enliven the sport; and, if discreetly used, are always of service; but in cover they should be given with the greatest caution. Halloos seldom do any hurt when you are running up the wind, for then none but the tail hounds can hear you: when you are running down the wind, you should halloo no more than may be necessary to bring the tail-hounds forward; for a hound that knows his business seldom wants encouragement when he is upon a scent. Most fox hunters wish to see their hounds run in a good style. A pack of harriers, if they have time, may kill a fox, but I defy them to kill him in the style in which he ought to be killed; they must hunt him down. If you intend to tire him out, you must expect to be tired also yourself; I never wish a chase to be less than one hour, or to exceed two: it is sufficiently long if properly followed, it will seldom be longer unless there be a fault somewhere, either in the day, the huntsman, or the hounds. Changing from the hunted fox to a fresh one is as bad an accident as can happen to a pack of fox-hounds, and requires all the ingenuity and observation that man is capable of to guard against it. Could a fox-hound distinguish a hunted fox as the deer hound does the deer that is blown, fox-hunting would then be perfect. A huntsman should always listen to his hounds while they are running in cover; he should be particularly attentive to the headmost hounds, and he should be constantly on his guard against a skirter; for, if there be two scents, he must be wrong. Generally speaking, the best scent is least likely to be that of the hunted fox: and, as a fox seldom suffers hounds to run up to him as long as he is able to prevent it, so, nine times out of ten, when foxes are hallooed early in the day, they are all fresh foxes. The hounds most likely to be right are the hard-running linehunting ones; or such as the huntsman knows had the lead before there arose any doubt of changing. With regard to the fox, if he break over an open country, it is no sign that he is hard run; for they seldom at any time will do that unless they are a great way before the hounds. Also, if he run up the wind; they

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seldom or never do that when they have been long hunted and grow weak; and when they run their foil, that also may direct him. All this requires a good ear and nice observation; and indeed in that consists the chief excellence of huntsmen. When the hounds divide in two parts, the whipper-in, stopping, must attend to the huntsman and wait for his halloo, before he attempts to stop either: for want of proper management in this, I have known the hounds stopped at both places, and both foxes lost. they have many scents, and it is uncertain which is the hunted fox, let him stop those that are farthest down the wind; as they can hear the others, and will reach them soonest: in such a case there will be little use in stopping those that are up the wind. When hounds are at a check, let every one be silent and stand still. Whippers-in are frequently at this time coming on with the tail-hounds. They should never halloo to them when the hounds are at fault; the least thing does them harm at such a time, but a halloo more than any other. The huntsman, at a check, had better let his hounds alone, or coutent himself with holding them forward, without taking them off their noses. Should they be at a fault, after having made their own cast (which the huntsman should always first encourage them to do), it is then his business to assist them farther; but, except in some particular instances, I never approve of their being cast as long as they are inclined to hunt. Gentlemen, when hounds are at fault, are too apt themselves to prolong it. They should always stop their horses some distance behind the hounds; and, if it be possible to remain silent, this is the time. They should be careful not to ride before the hounds or over the scent; nor should they ever meet a hound in the face unless to stop him. Should you at any time be before the hounds, turn your horse's head the way they are going, get out of their track, and let them pass by you. In dry weather, and particularly in heathy countries, foxes will run the roads. If gentlemen at such times will ride close upon the hounds, they may drive them miles without any scent. High-mettled foxhounds are seldom inclined to stop whilst horses are close at their heels. No one should ever ride in a direction which, if persisted in, would carry him amongst the hounds, unless he be at a great distance behind them. The first moment that hounds are at fault is a critical one. Those who look forward may perhaps see the fox; or the running of sheep, or the pursuit of crows, may give them some tidings of him. Those who listen may sometimes take a hint which way he is gone from the chattering of a magpie; or perhaps be at a certainty from a distant halloo: nothing that can give any intelligence at such a time ought to be neglected. Gentlemen are too apt to ride all together were they to spread more, they might sometimes be of service; particularly those who, from a knowledge of the sport, keep down the wind: it would then be difficult for either hounds or fox to escape their observation. You should, however, be cautious how you go to a halloo. The halloo itself must in a great measure direct you; and, though it afford no certain rule, yet you may

frequently guess whether it can be depended upon or not. At the sowing time, when boys are keeping off the birds, you will sometimes be deceived by their halloo; so that it is best, when you are in doubt, to send a whipper-in to know the certainty of the matter. Hounds ought not to be cast as long as they are able to hunt. It is a common idea, that a hunted fox never stops; but Mr. Beckford informs us that he has known them stop even in wheel ruts in the middle' of a down, and get up in the middle of the hounds. The greatest danger of losing a fox is at the first finding him, and when he is sinking; at both which times he will frequently run short, and the eagerness of the hounds will frequently carry them beyond the scent. When the fox is first found, every one ought to keep behind the hounds till they are well settled to the scent; and, when the hounds are catching him, they ought to be as silent as possible; and eat him eagerly after he is caught. In some places they have a method of treeing him; that is, throwing him across the branch of a tree, and suffering the hounds to bay at him for some minutes before he is thrown among them: the intention of which is to make them more eager, and to let in the tail-hounds; during this interval also they recover their wind, and are apt to eat him more readily. Our author, however, advises not to keep him too long, as he supposes that the hounds have not any appetite to eat him longer than while they are angry with him.

In case a fox escape so as to earth, countrymen must be got together with shovels, spades, pickaxes, &c., to dig him out, if they think the earth not too great. They make their earths as near as they can in ground that is hard to dig, as in clay, stony ground, or amongst the roots of trees; and their earths have commonly but one hole, and that is straight and a long way in before you come at their couch. Sometimes they take possession of a badger's old burrow, which has a variety of chambers, holes, and angles. To facilitate this way of hunting the fox, the huntsman must be provided with one or two terriers to put into the earth after him, that is, to fix him into an angle; for the earth often consists of many angles: the use of the terrier is to know where he lies; for as soon as he finds him, he continues baying or barking, so that which way the noise is heard that way dig to him. Your terriers must be garnished with bells hung in collars, to make the fox bolt the sooner; besides, the collars will be some small defence to the terriers. The instruments to dig with are, a sharp-pointed spade, which serves to begin the trench where the ground is hardest, and broader tools will not so well enter; the round hollowed spade, which is useful to dig among roots, having very sharp edges; the broad flat spade to dig with, when the trench has been pretty well opened, and the ground softer; mattocks and pickaxes to dig in hard ground, where a spade will do but little service; the coal-rake to cleanse the hole, and to keep it from stopping up; clamps, wherewith you may take either fox or badger out alive to make sport with afterwards.

HUNTING THE HARE. As of all chases the hare makes the greatest pastime, so it gives

no little pleasure to see the craft of this small animal for her self-preservation. If it be rainy, the hare usually takes to the highways; and if she come to the side of a young grove, or spring, she seldom enters, but squats down till the hounds have overshot her; and then she will return the way she came, for fear of the wet and dew that hangs on the boughs. In this case the huntsman ought to stay 100 paces before he comes to the wood side, by which means he will perceive whether she return as aforesaid; which if she do, he must halloo in his hounds, and call them back; and that presently, that the hounds may not think it the counter she came first. The next thing to be observed is the place where the hare sits, and upon what wind she makes her form, either upon the north or south wind: she will not willingly run into the wind, but upon, aside, or down the wind; but if she form in the water, it is a sign she is foul and measled; if you hunt such a one, have a special regard all the day to the brook sides; for there and near plashes, she will make all her crossings, doublings, &c. Some hares are so crafty that as soon as they hear the sound of a horn they instantly start out of their form, though it were at the distance of a quarter of a mile, and go and swim in some pool, and rest upon some rushbed in the midst of it. Such will not stir thence till they hear the sound of the horn, and then they start out again, swim to land, and stand up before the hounds for hours before they can kill them, swimming and using all subtleties and crossings in the water. Nay, such is the subtlety of a hare, that sometimes, after she has been hunted three hours, she will start a fresh hare, and squat in the same form. Others, after being hunted a considerable time, will creep under the door of a sheep-cot, and hide themselves among the sheep; or, when they have been hard hunted, will run in among a flock of sheep, and will by no means be gotten out till the hounds are coupled up, and the sheep driven into their pens. Some of them will take the ground like a coney, which is called going to the vault. Some will go up one side of the hedge and come down the other, the thickness of the hedge being the only distance between the courses. A hare that has been sorely hunted, has got upon a quickset hedge, and ran a good way upon the top thereof, and then leapt off upon the ground; and they frequently betake themselves to furze bushes, and leap from one to the other, whereby the hounds are frequently in default. Having found where a large hare has relieved in some pasture or corn field, you must then consider the season of the year, and the weather: for, if it be in spring or summer, a hare will not then set in bushes, because they are often infested with pismires, snakes, and adders; but will set in corn fields and open places. In winter, they seat near towns and villages, in tufts of thorns and brambles, especially when the wind is northerly or southerly. According to the season and nature of the place where the hare is accustomed to seat, there beat with your hounds, and start her; which is better sport than trailing her from her relief to her form. After the hare has been started, and is on

foot, step in where you saw her pass, and halloo in your hounds, until they have all undertaken it and go on with it in full cry; then recheat to them with your horn, following fair and softly at first, making not too much noise either with horn or voice; for at the first hounds are apt to overshoot the chase through too much heat. But when they have run an hour, and you see the hounds are well in with it, and stick well upon it, then you may come in nearer with them, because their heat will then be cooled, and they will hunt more soberly. But above all things, mark the first doubling, which must be your direction for the whole day; for all the doublings that she will make afterwards will be like the former; and according to the policies that you shall see her use, and the place where you hunt, you must make your compasses great or small, long or short, to help the defaults, always seeking the moistest and most commodious places for the hounds to scent in.

HUNTING THE HART OR STAG. Gesner, speak ing of hart-hunting, observes, that this wild and subtle beast frequently deceives its hunter by windings and turnings. Wherefore the prudent hunter must train his dogs with words of art, that he may be able to set them on and take them off at pleasure. First he should encompass the beast in her own layer, and so unharbour her in the view of the dogs, that so they may never lose her slot or footing. Neither must he set upon every one, either of the herd or those that wander solitarily, or a little one; but partly by sight, and partly by the footing and fumets, make a judgment of the game, and also observe the largeness of his layer. The huntsman, having made these discoveries in order to the chase, takes off the couplings of the dogs; and some on horseback, others on foot, follow the cry with the greatest art, observation, and speed; remembering and intercepting him in his subtle turnings and headings; with all agility leaping hedges, gates, pales, ditches: neither fearing thorns, down-hills, nor woods, but mounting a fresh horse if the first tire. Follow the largest head of the whole herd, which must be singled out of the chase; which the dogs perceiving must follow, not following any other. The dogs are animated to the sport by the winding of horns, and the voices of the huntsmen. But sometimes the crafty beast sends forth his little squire to be sacrificed to the dogs and hunters, instead of himself, lying close the mean time. In this case the huntsman must sound a retreat, break off the dogs and take them in, that is, leam them again, until they be brought to the fairer game; which rises with fear, yet still strives by flight, until he is wearied and breathless. The nobles call the beast a wise hart, who, to avoid all his enemies, runs into the greatest herds, and so brings a cloud of error on the dogs, to obstruct their farther pursuit; sometimes also bearing some of the herd into his footings, that so he may the more easily escape by amusing the dogs. Afterwards he betakes himself to his heels again, still running with the wind, not only for the sake of refreshment, but also because he can thus more easily hear the voice of his pursuers, whether they be

far off or near. But being again discovered by ne hunters, and the sagacious scent of the dogs, he flies into herds of cattle, as cows, sheep, &c., leaping on a cow or ox, laying the fore-parts of his body thereon, so that touching the earth only with his hinder feet, he may leave very little or no scent behind. But their usual manner is, when they see themselves hard beset, and every way intercepted, to make force with their horns at the enemy who first comes upon them, unless they be prevented by spear or sword. When the beast is slain, the huntsman winds the fall of the beast; and then the whole company come up, blowing their horns in triumph for such a conquest; among whom, the skilfullest opens the beast, and rewards the hounds with what properly belongs to them, for their future encouragement, for which purpose the huntsmen dip bread in the blood of the beast to give to the hounds. It is very dangerous to go in to a hart at bay; of which there are two sorts, one on land and the other in water. If the hart be in deep water, where you can not well come at him, couple up your dogs; for, should they continue long in the water, it would endanger their surbating or foundering. In this case get a boat and swim to him, with drawn dagger, or else with a rope that has a noose, and throw it over his horns: for, if the water be so deep that the hart swims, there is no danger in approaching him; otherwise you must be very cautious. As to the land bay, if a hart be burnished, consider the place; for if it be in a plain and open place, where there is no wood or covert, it is dangerous and difficult to come in to him; but if he be on a hedge-side, or in a thicket, then, while the hart is staring on the hounds, you may come softly and covertly behind him, and cut his throat. If you miss your aim, and the hart turn head upon you, then take refuge at some tree; and, when the hart is at bay, couple up your hounds; and when you see the hart turn head to fly, gallop in roundly to him, and kill him with your sword. The first ceremony, when the huntsman comes in to the death of a deer, is to cry 'ware haunch,' that the hounds may not break in to the deer; which being done, the next is the cutting his throat, and blooding the youngest hounds, that they may the better love a deer, and learn to leap at his throat: then the mort having been blown, and all the company come in, the best person, who hath not taken say before, is to take up the knife that the keeper or huntsman is to lay across the belly of the deer, some holding by the fore legs, and the keeper of huntsman drawing down the pizzle, the person who takes say, is to draw the edge of the knife leisurely along the middle of the belly, beginning near the brisket, and drawing a little upon it, enough in the length and depth to discover how fat the deer is; then he that is to break up the deer, first slits the skin from the cutting of the throat downwards, making the arber, that so the ordure may not break forth, and then he paunches him, rewarding the hounds with it. In the next place, he is to present the same person who took say, with a drawn hanger, to cut off the head of the deer. Which being done, and the hounds rewarded, the concluding ceremony is, if it be a stag, to draw a

triple mort; and if a buck, a double one, and then all who have horns blow a recheat in concert, and immediately a general whoop.

HUNTING THE OTTER is performed with dogs, and also with otter spears; with which, when they find themselves wounded, they make to and, and fight with the dogs most furiously, as if they were sensible that cold water would annoy their green wounds. There is indeed craft to be used in hunting them, but they may be caught in snares under water, and by river sides: but great care must be taken, for they bite sorely; and, if they remain long in the snare, they will get themselves free by their teeth. In hunting them, one man must be on one side of the river, and another on the other, both beating the banks with dogs; and the beast not being able to endure the water long, you will soon discover if there be an otter or not in that quarter. If any of the hounds find out an otter, then view the soft grounds and moist places, to find out which way he bent his head and then follow the hounds, and lodge him as a hart or deer. But if you do not find him quickly, you may suppose he is gone to couch somewhere farther off from the river; for sometimes they will go to feed a considerable way from the place of their rest, choosing rather to go up the river than down it. Those who hunt otters must carry their spears, to watch his vents, that being the chief advantage; and if they perceive him swimming under water, they must endeavour to strike him with their spears, and, if they miss, must pursue him with their hounds, which, if they be good, will go chanting and trailing along the river side, and will beat every root of a tree, osier-bed, and tuft of bulrushes nay, they will sometimes take water and bait the beast like a spaniel, by which means he will hardly escape.

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We will now give a short definition of the principal terms used in hunting. 1. For beasts as they are in company:-Hunters say, a herd of harts, and all manner of deer; a bevy of roes; a sounder of swine; a rout of wolves; a richess of martens; a brace or leash of bucks, foxes, or hares; a couple of rabbits or coneys. 2. For their lodging:-A hart is said to harbour; a buck lodges; a roe beds; a hare seats or forms; a coney sits; a fox kennels; a marten trees; an otter watches; a badger earths; a boar couches. Hence, to express their dislodging, they say, unharbour the hart; rouse the buck; start the hare; bolt the coney; unkennel the fox; untree the marten; vent the otter; dig the badger; rear the boar. 3. For their noise at rutting time: A hart belleth; a buck growns or troats; a roe bellows; a hare beats or taps; an otter whines; a boar freams; a fox barks; a badger shrieks; a wolf howls; a goat rattles. 4. For the footing and treading :-Of a hart, they say the slot; of a buck, and all fallow-deer, the view; of all deer, if on the grass, and scarce visible, the foiling; of a fox, the print; and of other vermin, the footing; of an otter, the marks; of a boar, the track; the hare, when in open field, is said to sore; when she winds about to deceive the hounds, she doubles; when she beats on the hard highway, and her footing comes to be perceived; she pricketh; in show, it is called the trace of

the hare. 5. The tail of a hart, buck, or other deer, is called the single; that of a boar, the wreath; of a fox, the brush, or drag; and the tip at the end. the chape; of a wolf, the stern; of a hare and coney, the scut. 6. The ordure of a hart and all deer, is called fewmets or fewmishing; of a hare, crotiles or crotising; of a boar, lesses; of a fox, the billiting; and of other vermin, the fuants; of an otter, the spraints. 7. As the attire or parts of deer, those of a stag, if perfect, are the bur, the pearls, the little knobs on it, the beam, the gutters, the antler, the surantler, royal, sur-royal, and all at top the croches; of the buck, the bur, beam, brow-antler, black-antler, advancer, palm, and spellers. If the croches grow in the form of a man's hand, it is called a palmel head. Heads bearing not above three or four, and the croches placed aloft, all of one height, are called crowned heads; heads having double croches, are called forked heads, because the croches are planted on the top of the beams like forks. 8. Of the young, they say, a litter of cubs, a nest of rabbits, a squirrel's dray. 9. The terms used in respect of the dogs. &c., are as follows:-Of greyhounds, two make a brace; of hounds, a couple; of greyhounds, three make a leash; of hounds, a couple and half. They say, let slip a greyhound; and, cast off a hound. The string wherein a greyhound is led, is called a leash; and that of a hound, a lyome. The greyhound has his collar, and the hound his couples. We say a kennel of hounds, and a pack of beagles. 10. The following terms and phrases are more immediately used in the progress of the sport itself:- When the hounds, being cast off, and finding the scent of some game, begin to open and cry, they are said to challenge; when they are too busy ere the scent be good, they are said to babble; when too busy where the scent is good, to bawl; when they run it endwise' orderly, holding in together merrily, and making it good, they are said to be in full cry; when they run along without opening at all, it is called running mute; when spaniels open in the string, or a greyhound in the course, they are said to lapse; when beagles bark and cry at their prey, they are said to yearn; when the dogs hit the scent the contrary way, they are said to draw amiss; when they take fresh scent and quit the former chase for a new one, it is called hunting change; when they hunt the game by the heel or track, they are said to hunt counter; when the chase goes off, and returns again traversing the same ground, it is called hunting the foil; when the dogs run at a whole herd of deer, instead of a single one, it is called running riot; dogs set in readiness where the game is expected to come by, and cast off after the other hounds are passed, are called a relay. If they be cast off ere the other dogs come up, it is called vauntlay; when, finding where the chase has been, they make a proffer to enter, but return, it is called a blemish; a lesson on the horn to encourage the hounds, is named a call, or recheat; that blown at the death of a deer, is called the mort; the part belonging to the dogs of any chase they have killed is the reward. They say, take off a deer's skin; strip or case a hare, fox, and all sorts of vermin:

which is done by beginning at the snout, and turning the skin over the ears down to the tail. HUNTINGDONSHIRE. Before the Roman invasion, this county, with the adjacent counties of Cambridge, Norfolk, and Suffolk, was inhabited by the Cenamini or Cenemagni. The Romans included it in the province of Flavia Cæsariensis. The Saxons made it part of the kingdom of East Anglia, at which time it was called Huntendunescyre and Hantandunscyre. It was subsequently subjugated by the Mercian kings. Huntendunscyre signifies hunters'-down shire, this district being at the time it was so first named well adapted for the sport of hunting, as it was almost one continued forest.

Huntingdonshire, sometimes called Hunts, is an inland county, bounded by Northamptonshire on the north, north-west, and west; by Bedfordshire on the south and south-west; and by Cambridgeshire on the east, south-east, and northeast. It extends in length about twenty-six miles, in breadth twenty, and in circumference about seventy-six miles, containing about 194,950 acres of land. It lies in the Norfolk circuit, and its ecclesiastical government is in the province of Canterbury, and the diocese of Lincoln. The fenny part of it is in the Bedford Level. It is divided into four hundreds, one borough, six market-towns, and seventy-nine parishes. It is remarkable that this county and Cambridgeshire are joined together under one civil government, there being but one high sheriff for both, who is alternately chosen one year out of Cambridgeshire, the second out of the Isle of Ely in the same county, and the third out of this county.

The climate of Huntingdonshire on the whole is tolerably healthy, considering that all the east or north-east part of the county is skirted by fens, and that but a small part of it is well supplied with spring-water. Mr. Maxwell remarks, that this county possesses several distinct sorts of soil: viz. first, fens or moors; second, skirty land; third, meadow land; fourth, strong deep stapled soil, either consisting of clay or of gravel with a mixture of loam; and, fifth, thin stapled light clay. It appears, from an invaluable list in Mr. Parkinson's View of the Agriculture of this county, that the greater part is watered by ponds. The Ouse and the Nen are the only rivers which communicate with the county, the former falling into it at St. Neots, whence it winds through several parishes into Cambridgeshire, which it enters at or near Erith. The latter divides the northern part from the county of Northampton, in which county it rises, and, flowing through a delightful vale, reaches Huntingdonshire near Elton. It is here that it forms the boundary between the two counties, and, meandering to the north, passes Yarwell and Wansford; soon after, winding to the east, through a more level country, it pursues a devious course to Peterborough, below which it sinks into the Fens, and slowly winds through Wisbech to the sea. Some smaller streams water the north-east side of this county, together with large meres, or pools of water; namely, Whittlesea-mere, Ramsey-mere, Ugg-mere, &c. Most of the meres are visited by abundance of wild fowl. The river Ouse is navigable along

its whole line across this county. Inland navigation is neglected in Huntingdonshire: there is, however, a canal, navigable from Ramsay to Lynn in Norfolk; also from Warboys to the same place.

The chief produce of this county is corn and cattle, with fowl and sheep. The cheese of Hunts is deemed of an excellent quality. The sheep are a mixed race, and have been much improved by crosses of the Lincolnshire and Leicestershire breeds. They are without horns, and of imperfect shape, but are found profitable from the quantity of wool they produce; their fleeces weighing from seven to eight pounds each. Those of the native sheep still found, seldom exceed four pounds in weight. The cows are bred with little attention, and are also a mixture of many races. A principal object of pursuit is the suckling of calves to supply veat to London. Many horses are bred in the lower part of the county.

Two medicinal springs are mentioned by Camden, and after him by Fuller, as found at Hailweston, near St. Neots. From one of these issued fresh water, and from the other water somewhat saline. Judging of the productive quality of the ground in this county by the test laid down by Fuller, we may infer that few counties are more fertile and rich. The goodness of the ground," he says, ' may certainly be collected from the plenty of convents erected therein, at St. Neots, Hinchingbrook, Huntingdon, Sautrie, St. Ives, Ramsey, &c.; so that the fourth foot at least in this shire was abbeyland, belonging to monks and friars; and such weeds we know would not grow but in rich ground. If any man say that monks might not choose their own habitations, being confined therein to the pleasure of their founders; know, there were few founders that did not first consult some religious person in the erection of convents; and such would be sure to choose the best for men of their own profession. Sure I am, it would set all England hard to show, in so short a distance, so pleasant a park as Waybridge, so fair a meadow as Portsholme, and so fruitful a tillage as Godmanchester, all three within so many miles in this county.'

The county of Hunts returns four members to parliament; viz. two for the county, and two for the county town, Huntingdon. The family of viscount Hinchingbrook, as well as the ducal branch of Manchester, has always possessed a considerable influence over this county. The Probys and Ludlows have also been frequently returned. Mr. Montague, the husband of the celebrated Mrs. Montague of Portman-square, sat for the county town in 1734, 1741, 1747, 1754, and 1762. The duke of Manchester and the earl of Sandwich are deemed proprietors or patrons of both the shire and the town.

Sawtrey Beaumes, in this county, is thought to have been the birth-place of Beaumais, bishop of London in the time of Henry I., and surnamed Rufus to distinguish him from his nephew, who was afterwards bishop of the same see. He was appointed the first warden of the marshes of Wales, and afterwards governor of the whole of Salop. He died in January 1127–8,

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