Jon Beale's two greatest pleasures in life were fox huntin' and a romp in the hay, or on the greensward, or anywhere with a wench. At age 29, he was considered a very eligible bachelor, handsome, well proportioned (though with a tendency to stoutness) , jovial, and gallant.

He was in no haste to marry, however. As the younger son of Sir Leverett Beale, he was but "the Honourable Jonathan Beale, Esq.", deprived by primogeniture of a claim to his father's title or fortune. He chose, therefore, to devote his life to the pursuit of foxes and wenches.

He enjoyed the camaraderie of the hunt, though, being very short-sighted, he seldom even caught sight of the fox. The display of his equestrian prowess was more important than followin' the hounds and shootin'. He was a splendid horseman and justly proud of his skill.

So, oft in the chill of morning, he could be seen and heard with his hounds and his horn, bellowing such hunterly cries as "Yoicks !", "View Haloo" and "Talley-Ho", his throat having been suitably lubricated by a draught from the stirrup cup.

Jon Beale rode a stallion, usually one which he had had for years, called Mercury. Recently, though, Mercury having slowed with approaching age, he had acquired a new stallion named Ajax . It seemed a promising mount and he had devoted several weeks to training Ajax. The only undesirable trait which the horse manifested was a certain reluctance to leap.

Upon approaching a stile or a hedge, there was a momentary hesitation which marred the fluidity of the horse's gallop. Jon had decided that the best way to break Ajax of this habit was to ride him in the hunt and apply the spurs just before he was to leap. As there were many obstacles to be cleared by leaping, Ajax would become accustomed to preparing himself for the leap so as to avoid the prodding of the spurs.

So it was that one morning, when Jon was in the midst of the hunt party astride Ajax, the approached a high hedge. One at a time the horses leaped without breaking stride, clearing the hedge rather closely. All, that is, except Ajax. He approached the hedge at full gallop, and, when Jon applied the spurs, stopped short, digging his shoes into the soft turf.

Jon Beale, unfortunately, did not stop short. Had there been no saddle horn in the way, he would have flown over Ajax' neck and into the hedge. Instead, he slid forward, ramming his stones against the saddle horn with great force. The impact bursted his left ballock and crushed the right into a soft mass held together by the unbroken membranes, its internal structure completely destroyed.

Until that moment, never in his 29 years had Jon Beale experienced a really hard blow to his testicles. He had never experienced any kind of pain which even remotely approached the excruciating agony which he now felt. He had heard that a man could die of a blow to the stones, and now he fully believed it. He had always regarded himself as stoical and a man of great fortitude who would not cry aloud if hurt. This illusion was instantly shattered.

John Beale SHRIEKED ! He was hoarse for days after that scream. Though it was wholly involuntary, he was ashamed of himself for screaming like a woman, only louder. His chagrin did not stop him from continuing to scream in his acute anguish. As his vocal chords became frayed by his screeching, his screams became ragged and weakened.

Jon had fallen sidewise out of the saddle and now lay on the ground beside Ajax, curled up with his knees against his chest and both hands clutching his mangled seminal glands. His screams had given way to retching and heaving as he vomited up his breakfast.

Finally, he convulsed violently and lay still. Many of the members of the hunt party feared that he had died, but Mr. McLaren, a physician in general practise and a member of the hunt, bringing a small mirror ino close proximity to his open mouth found it clouded and announced that there was still life in his body.

Four of the men carried Jon Beale to a nearby farm house where Mr. McLaren pulled down his white breeches and his small clothes and examined his injured privates. He sent one of the hunters after his bag which he had left at the start of the hunt. The left side of the scrotum was full of blood and palpation did not disclose the presence of a testicle there. On the right side, extravasation of blood within the tunica albuginea had brought about gross oedema of the testis, which, upon palpation was found to be structureless.

Though Mr. McLaren did not usually perform surgery, there being no chirurgeon available, he undertook to perform a bilateral orchidectomy, having ascertained that neither testis could be saved. The farmhouse was not an ideal venue for the performance of surgery. Despite the use of a bellows, it was impossible to obtain enough heat from the small wood fire in the farmer's fireplace to heat the cautery to red heat.

It was considered perilous and inadvisable to depend on ligatures to occlude arteries. They were almost always closed by cauterisation. However, for this to be successful, the cautery must be cherry-red hot. Against his own better judgement, Mr. McLaren found himself forced to close the spermatic veins and arteries by tying them off with silken thread. He could only hope that the thread would be strong enough and the strength of two young men sufficient to pull the knots tight enough to prevent bleeding.

Having decided upon this course of action, Mr. McLaren laid open the scrotum, draining it of the blood which accumulated in it from the bursting of the left testicle. Swiftly, he whipped a loop of white silken thread about the left spermatic cord and had two young men pull the ends of the thread as tightly as possible. Then he reversed the ends of the thread and made the knot into a square knot which he again had the young men pull as tight as possible. He then wound five turns of the long end of the thread about the cord and tied another square knot with the assistance of the young men to pull the thread always as tightly as possible.

Finally, with much trepidation, he cut below the second knot with his scalpel. To his delight, when the remains of the testis fell away, there was no bleeding from the cord. It was with considerably more confidence that Mr. McLaren repeated the procedure on the right spermatic cord. However, this time, he tied the cord with a pair of square knots in two different places and cut between them. Again, there was no bleeding, either from the oedematous testis or from the cord.

Finally, praying that the knots would continue to hold, Mr. McLaren sewed up the incisions in Jon Beale's empty scrotum. Throughout this entire procedure, Jon Beale had remained profoundly unconscious, his vital functions dangerously depressed. With the aid of aromatic spirits of ammonia, Mr. McLaren managed to rouse Jon to a state of semi-consciousness in which he was able to take nourishment and a stimulant.

After four days, Jon was sufficiently recovered to be carried out of the farmhouse to a carriage to be brought home for convalescence. Mr. McLaren estimated that the ligatures would slough off the cords in about three weeks, when it would be necessary to re-open the scrotum to remove them. To be certain, a month was allowed which proved sufficient. The original stitches were removed from the scrotum, and the new ones a fortnight later.

Although Jon Beale was allowed to resume his normal activities, he found himself so weakened by his loss that he never fully recovered. After six months, he was hardly half as strong as he had been and was completely impotent. Though his lust was greatly reduced by the loss of his testicles, he still desired women and was tormented by his impotence. Inclined to stoutness before, he became grossly obese and adopted a largely sedentary life.

Never again did Jon Beale ride to the hounds. He sold Ajax, never having ridden him again after that disastrous hunt.