at Cambridge, and was a member of the Leander club. He was always
perfectly cool, and not in the smallest degree nervous. He was,
moreover, an excellent walker and mountain-climber. He once walked up to
London from Cambridge; I have climbed mountains with him, and he was
very agile, quick, surefooted, and entirely intrepid. Let me interpolate
a little anecdote of an accident at Pontresina, which might have been
serious. Hugh and I, with a practised Alpine climber, Dr. Leith, left
Pontresina early one morning to climb a rock-peak. We were in a light
carriage with a guide and porter. The young horse which drew us, as we
were rattling down the high embanked road leading to Samaden, took a
sharp turn to the right, where a road branched off. He was sharply
checked by the guide, with the result that the carriage collided with a
stone post, and we were all flung out down the embankment, a living
cataract of men, ice-axes, haversacks, and wraps. The horse fortunately
stopped. We picked ourselves ruefully up and resumed our places. Not
until we reached our destination did we become aware that the whole
incident had passed in silence. Not one word of advice or recrimination
or even of surprise had passed anyone's lips!

But Hugh's climbing was put a stop to by a sharp attack of heart-failure
on the Piz Pal˘. He was with my brother Fred, and after a long climb
through heavy snow, he collapsed and was with difficulty carried down.
He believed himself to be on the point of death, and records in one of
his books that the prospect aroused no emotion whatever in his mind
either of fear or excitement, only of deep curiosity.

While he was an undergraduate, he and I had a sudden and overwhelming
interest in family history and genealogy. We went up to Yorkshire for a
few days one winter, stayed at Pateley Bridge, Ripon, Bolton Abbey,
Ripley, and finally York. At Pateley Bridge we found the parish