The music of the pack is it’s
CRY!
Autumn 2004

Of course no member of New Labour would own up to reading Kipling or even suggesting that there could be lessons learned from history, but one would have thought that Blair would have been told by his spin doctors that caving in to his back benchers over hunting just might create a few side effects. He knows now.

At last the media have grasped the fact that this Bill has nothing to do with hunting and are trumpeting the fact from every citadel. Many Hunt Supporters will say “we have been fighting tooth and nail for seven years now and where has it got us?” The fact that the vast majority of the Press and Public have grasped the reason that hunting is being used as a cynical political ploy may not seem to be much but it is in fact a public relations triumph for the pro-hunting lobby. Highly respected correspondents who have previously sat on the fence or been forthrightly anti are now writing or speaking in defence of hunting. Blair’s bluff has been called.

Should Blair decide to implement the Parliament Act – and even that cannot be certain – he will launch this country into the greatest constitutional crisis since Lloyd George initiated the original Parliament Act. Quite apart from being an outrageous breach of convention to use what is essentially an emergency measure to be invoked in times of national crisis there are many Law Lords who are extremely disturbed by this Government’s abuse and contempt of the British Constitution and who will fight tooth and nail for its restoration.

Blair’s cynical ploy to delay the enacting of the Bill until after the next General Election will backfire on him. So, too, will his even more cynical attempt to divert media attention away from the Hunting debate by leaking the fact that he suffered a ‘domestic crisis’ earlier this year. This crisis was known to the media at the time but, out of respect for his family, no mention of it was made in the press. To then leak it on the eve of the Hunting Bill just stinks.

Many thanks to the hundred or so Hunt Supporters who were able to make it to Parliament Square last week despite the short notice and also to our two MPs – Owen Paterson and Stephen O’Brien – who spoke so passionately in our defence. W.H.S.C members were rather to the fore front in the media – Andy Vernon on the front page of the Times, William Wakeham’s father being interviewed on the Today programme and his brother Richard residing in a police cell having inadvertently wandered into the Chamber of the House of Commons. There is one way to safeguard hunting – take every measure to ensure that this rotten and corrupt Government is not re-elected. The gloves are now off…
 

 

FROM OUR CHAIRMAN – EVENTUALLY!

The school holidays are now over and I can hear the clock - and the Editor – click!

It is ‘Ride time’ once again and I would like to thank each Area Committee for organizing our three Rides. Area I is holding their’s at Pickhill Hall Farm on Sunday 26th September, Area II at Iscoyd Park on Sunday 10th October and Area III at Malpas on Sunday 17th October. They are a vital part of our fund raising so please spread the word and come.

Our Annual Dinner will be held at Bangor Race Course on Friday 19th November and our Speaker will be Richard Williams, long serving Master and former Huntsman of the Eryri – the “hounds who hunt with the eagles” in Snowdonia and who can justly claim to hold the record for killing a fox at the highest altitude, having killed one under the café at the top of Snowdon a few years ago. Richard is a passionate defender of hunting and is highly unlikely to take a ban sitting down.

Finally a big round of thanks to our ever efficient Secretary, Charlotte Percival, who even seems to arrange having babies so as not to interfere disrupt the Annual Dinner arrangements!

AREA I (WREXHAM)

Many commiserations to our Chairman Annie Jones who is recuperating from a nasty perforated ulcer – typically she has not deserted her many voluntary jobs and was quickly back at the RDA and keeping all four Owen boys in order.

After a rather disappointing Show and Gymkhana at Bryn-y-Pys last year this year’s was a great success and well supported. Many thanks to everyone who helped on the day.

Our Hunt Ride this year is on Sunday 26th September from Pickhill Hall Farm. Geoff Dutton has very kindly stepped into Annie’s shoes to organize this and can be contacted on 01978 780 625 for information.

AREA III (MALPAS)

We started the year with our AGM and skittle night at the Bickerton Poacher where the committee were re-elected en bloc and Lorna Dimelow, Ian McDowell and Derek Dutton were enlisted to our merry band of helpers; we hope they enjoy their time with us! The skittles were another friendly affair. Do any of the other areas fancy having a winter league or something; it’s where we can all let our hair down and have fun which is what it should all be about, surely. If you do, Area III would be glad to join in and field a team.

Our summer event was again a Donkey Derby; this time supporting the Air Ambulance which was needed several times last season around here! We were overwhelmed with fantastic sponsors many of which drove their own sulkies in their own races proving it wasn’t just for the children! Last year, combined with our mega successful ride (Henry take a bow for laying out such an excellent course) we were able to donate £1,000 to Malpas First Response and we hope to be able to repeat this or go better for the Air Ambulance.

We would like to take this opportunity to thank all of our sponsors and our various hosts for all the support they have given to Area III - you all know who you are but David hasn’t enough space in Cry to name you! Also to all the Hunt followers who have supported our various events and enabled us to provide the Hunt last year with such useful equipment as the quad, a steam cleaner and a lawn mower – it would be nice to see more support from all the Hunt.

Look out for our ride on 17th October; it’ll be a cracker, we promise!

HUNTING NEWS

Despite the political upheavals it has been business as usual and hounds are having a rattling good time and are now hunting four mornings a week – hopefully the maize harvest will start shortly which will be a great help, although hounds have adapted remarkably over the last ten or so seasons to hunting in maize and will now spread out over the rows rather than playing ‘Chase me Charlie’ down a single row. Whilst maize is undoubtedly beneficial in that it provides good cover for foxes during the summer these same foxes tend to be less adventurous and hunting in maize is somewhat akin to hunting in large woodlands.

Many of you will by now have met Richard Tyacke who has been very busy all summer getting to know his way around. One of Richard’s first jobs on arriving here in May was to go and marry Alice whom we also warmly welcome – it seems to be a great tradition of Wynnstay Masters to have cracking wives! We also welcome Andrew McNee who has moved up from the Heythrop to replace Shane as second whipper-in, Shane having moved over to the Cheshire as first whip taking Bert’s daughter Sally with him in the process. Having been brought up with taste and distinction Sally is, of course, continuing to hunt with us this season.

Sheik Mohammed is reportedly looking on with envy at the new stables at Stockton Hall where Steven Wynne will be looking after the Hunt horses, three of whom are named Jesus, Mary and Joseph so if you see Bert and Andrew out hunting on an Ox and an Ass you will know that the stable lights have failed.

POLITICAL NEWS

The events in Parliament Square and the House of Commons on Wednesday 15th September 2004 should not leave any Hunt Supporter down hearted – except for the fact that they couldn’t be there. The media reaction to the announcement that the Government would use the Parliament Act to force through the Hunting Bill, to the fact that the Government had left this announcement to the last possible minute and to the two year delay so as to avoid confrontation over a General Election had been astonishing even before the extraordinary events of Wednesday 15th September. Virtually all the ‘thinking Press’ saw through the Government’s shabby ploys and have realized that this Bill has absolutely nothing to do with animal welfare and everything to do with causing a confrontation with the House of Lords.

Such papers as the Daily Mail and the Times which have normally sat on the fence with regards to hunting are now firmly against the Bill, recognizing the prejudice and hypocrisy that it represents. This alone must have caused the Government great concern in the run up to the one day debate. The events of September 15th and the subsequent media reaction have been astonishing. For a brief moment the lid was lifted off the Pandora’s Box that will result should hunting be banned and the Government was caught totally and utterly off guard.

The results have been astonishing – favourable world wide news reportage for at least 24hrs. This is exactly the thing that this spin crazy and morally corrupt Government fears more than anything else whatsoever – and Wednesday’s little taster was only for starters. A chum phoned from Jordan to find out what was going on – he’d seen the headlines hourly on both the BBC World Service and CNN. Our old friend and Hunt Supporters Club Dinner Speaker Clarissa the Fat Lady did 26 interviews in 24 hours following the Debate. This is the sort of coverage that Max Clifford has the wildest dreams about.

Make no mistake, this triumph is entirely due to the Countryside Alliance and YOUR contributions to their continuing existence. Some may knock it but none can beat it.

A by-product of the House of Commons ‘Invasion’ has been the revelation of just how few Members of Parliament from all sides were actually present when they were invaded – and most of the ‘Few’ that were there seemed to be asleep judging by their reaction. You would have thought that for such an apparently important Debate – upon which the implementation of the Parliament Act would be decided – cardboard cut-outs of MP’s and tape recordings of ‘Hear Hear’ and ‘Shame!’ would have been provided at Tax Payers expense of course.

A VICTORIAN HUNTING DIARY
 

THE WYNNSTAY HOUNDS by J.A. WRIGHT

20th January 1893

Meet at Erddig:- It would be difficult to imagine better elementary conditions than those which prevailed of Friday morning, when the Wynnstay hounds met at Erddig, the beautiful seat of Mr Simon Yorke. Here, as always the case, they were hospitably received. The hounds were drawn off to the woods above the Rifle Range where a fox was found who gave them a good run over the fields in the direction of Marchweil, near which place it was killed. The next move was to the Hopyard near the Gerwyn where another fox was un-earthed who gave the field a capital run over a fine country towards Erbistock.

Accident in the hunting field

24th February 1893

Sir Watkin’s Hounds met at Carden, there being an unusually large and aristocratic Field including the Duke of Westminster, the Duke of Portland, Lord Arthur Grosvenor, Lady Mary Grosvenor, Lord Kenyon, the Hon. G Ormsby-Gore and the Hon. Dudley Ward.

The days sport was a capital one, the last spin from Kings Lee to Stretton being a particularly fine one. The country was very heavy and a number of riders came to grief; Captain Trotter, of the Bolling, Malpas, a very hard rider who rarely misses a day had a very bad fall and dislocated his shoulder which will probably prevent his hunting again this season.

We are pleased to state that the gallant chap is progressing favourably.

4th September 1893

Foxes are said to be in plague proportions in the Overton area, so much so that the gamekeepers on Bry-y-Pys Estate are at night patrolling their Coverts, blowing hunting horns to keep foxes out of them, mindful of the pheasants and can’t wait for the Cub Hunting to start

At Overton Police Station a reward of £5 was offered for the detection of a “Fox Poisoner.” The notice was not without effect as underneath it one morning was found a dead Fox!

 

 

WYNNSTAY BRIDGE

Again we had over 80 couples competing last winter and had the Finals of the Tournament here at Broad Oak in June. Robin Rees-Webb and Alex Taylor won the Cup after playing two local ladies, Mary Mottershead and Margaret Barnett. Sybil Clifford and Margaret Adams were successful in the Plate beating Michael Eagan and Ninc Higgin.

As a result I was able to give £500 to the Hunt and £500 to the Whitchurch Support Branch of the Shropshire and Mid Wales Hospice. I hope everyone enjoyed playing. Please enter again this year and encourage friends to join in. I will send an entry form to anyone interested – entries close on the 1st October. There is a wide range of players and standards and I should hate anyone to feel intimidated or that their Bridge is not good enough – so have a go and enjoy it!

A W.H.S.C. member writes to a friend to relate an interesting occurrence:-

Dear W.

Must tell you the tale of Seth and the Heifer. As you know Seth works in Beeston market on sale days and last Friday he took a Heifer in for his neighbour. On arriving at Beeston at 7.30 am he told the other staff to “Shut the gates – this buggers not wild it’s Bloody Wild!”

As he was putting the Heifer into a pen it escaped; ran down the passage, through the yet to be shut gate and into the car park with Seth in hot pursuit. Round the car park it went, into the pub yard, over the main road and into the woodyard. Exhilarated by new found freedom it then went up the embankment and onto the railway line where, after a moments consideration, it decided to head for Crewe. Someone behind Seth shouted “We’ll phone British Rail” as he continued in his dogged pursuit.

Off they went with the heifer running down between the rails and Seth in hot pursuit with his belly and braces going step kick! step kick! from sleeper to sleeper. Two miles later the line curved and an outpaced Seth saw the Heifer disappear from view round the bend. Pausing for breath he hears the lines begin to sing and, turning round, he sees a train approaching. Luckily it was going quite slowly and Seth, remembering the Railway Children, was able to flag it down.

As it stopped beside him the Driver opened his window and said “What’s up? I’ve got 250 passengers on here who have got to change at Crewe.” Seth replies “ And I’ve got a heifer down the line and have run 2 miles – you’ve got to give me a lift.”

“I’m not allowed to give lifts” replies the jobsworth driver. Unperturbed Seth stands defiantly in front of the Engine and declares “You’ll not get any further unless you give me a lift.” Realising his bluff had been called the Driver replies “O.K. then but I will have to switch the engine off because the doors won’t open with the engine running.”

So, having switched the engine off, opened the doors, closed the doors and started the engine once more, some five minutes later they set off round the bend to see that in the distance the heifer is still trotting down the line towards Crewe. As they catch it up Seth tells the Driver “Don’t run it over mon, put your brakes on. The Driver replies “They bloody well are on – driving a train’s not like stopping a car.” They follow the heifer at heifer’s pace for a couple of miles when it stops for a blow.

“Can we catch it now?” asks the Driver. “I doubt it mon; it will be off when it sees us Eh!” replies Seth.

“We’d better try” responds the Driver. So after switching the train off and opening the doors Seth is about to disembark when the Driver says “ You can’t leave this train just like that, Regulations insist that you cannot disembark from a train onto the line without wearing the correct Uniform.” So Seth and the Driver dress up in safety gear and they stealthily approach the heifer.

As they get to within ten yards of the heifer so the heifer moves a further ten yards down the track. Soon they are over a quarter of a mile from the train and no nearer to catching it. Looking back at the distant train Seth says to the Driver “ Booger this why don’t you go and fetch your train and come and pick me up Eh?” So the Driver plods back down the track, starts up the train, drives up to Seth, stops the train, opens the doors, Seth climbs aboard, Driver shuts the doors, starts up the train and off they go again in hot pursuit.

A mile further on the heifer is attracted by some other heifers and disappears into some bushes on the embankment. Driver stops the train, opens the doors and Seth climbs out, scrambles through the bushes, climbs the fence and sees the heifer in a field amongst the other heifers. He shouts to the Driver “It’s O.K. it’s in a field thanks for your help.” So the Driver starts up the train, drives ten yards then stops. “Hang on” he says “I want my uniform back.”

So Seth climbs back over the fence, scrambles through the bushes, the Driver switches the engine off, the doors open and Seth hands back the gear. Driver re-starts engine and rumbles onwards to Crewe. Seth scrambles back through the bushes, over the fence and manages to corner the heifer with some hurdles and walks down the road to a Garage, where he asks to use the phone.

“ Sorry” say’s the girl “It’s only to be used for emergencies. “This is a bloodie emergency – I’ve just chased a heifer from Beeston.”

Help arrives, the neighbour’s beast returned to the Auction and at 11.30 am sold for £200 less the cost of a bottle of whisky for Seth – some hunt – 4 hours with a 6 mile point! And also the reason why 250 people missed their connection at Crewe.

Or, as the Hunt Poet Laureate so succinctly puts it:-
 

In my more gloomier moments I sometimes begin to ponder whether in fact we really are all cruel evil bastards – at which moment it is time to reach for “In Praise of Hunting” a Symposium compiled 45 years ago and contributed to by many famous foxhunters of that time. Although a bit long this extract by David James is a well constructed demolition of all the anti arguments and a good reminder in these difficult times that we can all hunt with a clear conscience. David James was at the time Conservative MP for Kemptown, a publisher and a Council Member of the Fauna Preservation Society.

Hunting is part of the tradition of the countryside. It is more conspicuous than most traditions because it is one of the few remnants of colourful pageantry left in our daily lives. Perhaps for this reason it is singled out for attack, and the chief accusation is that hunting is cruel. Though it is well known that this accusation is made by people who do not hunt, it is less often realised that the overwhelming majority of them have never done so. (How large a majority? Only one case since the war has been quoted of a hunting man saying that experience had convinced him that his sport was cruel.) Hunting people hotly deny the accusation. The public generally, realising that they do not know the facts, wonder what is the truth of it all. Let us first examine the anti-hunting case.

It is not my intention to go exhaustively into the evidence of cruelty so far as the animal hunted is concerned - the nature and attributes of the fox will be dealt with by Miss Frances Pitt - but to deal with those who go hunting - that is to say with man, as a political creature; because it is quite evident to anyone who has studied the opponents of hunting and their antics over any period of time that the charge "that hunting is cruel" is used in two different senses, first that it causes unnecessary suffering to the fox, or alternatively, that the motives of those who hunt are a combination of sadism and bloodlust; and it is ruthless and rapid changing of ground between those two entirely different propositions that makes opponents of hunting so difficult to pin down.

Thus they assert in the first instance that hunting is cruel (i.e. "disposed to inflict suffering, indifferent to or taking pleasure in another's pain; merciless, pitiless, hard-hearted ", Oxford English Dictionary) because of the suffering caused to the fox. If that charge is disposed of, as it can be quite easily by anyone with an elementary knowledge of animal psychology, the reply is "Ah yes. That may be so; but what really concerns me is the effect on the human beings who indulge in such activities." Then if one points out in answer that the object of the follower is the chase and not the kill and that the latter is rarely witnessed, the crushing retort is: "A fat lot of consolation it is to the poor fox that no one sees him killed"-and so the argument goes round and round in circles.

Let me say at once that, notwithstanding this, there are some opponents of hunting whose motives I respect even though they almost invariably damage their own case by refusal to discuss the evidence or to consider any fact that does not fit in with their preconceived views. There are others, however, and I would go so far as to suggest that they are the more numerous, for whom I have no such admiration since their attitude is derived entirely from a "chip on the shoulder" and, while they fulminate against "teddy boys in pink coats", they say nothing whatsoever about coursing or beagling. It is a feature of these people that they cannot even control their indignation sufficiently to learn the most elementary facts about what they oppose, frequently confusing huntsman, master, followers and even passers by the one for the other.

This 'chip on the shoulder' attitude has its origins in the earliest times off history when, and until quite recent times, the horse was the symbol of wealth and power and the horseman was regarded as the oppressor. It is the insensate attitude of the mob in the French Revolution who decreed that in future traffic would go on the right of the road because the horseman mounted, and hence rode, on the left. But it has nothing to do with cruelty to animals....

It is the same with hunting attire. If anyone were to make offensive remarks in public to a cricketer because he wore white flannels, a cap and pads, and carried a bat in his hand, he would be liable to arrest for causing a breach of the peace. Yet anyone, who is so inclined, feels at liberty to shout abuse at a total stranger on his way to the meet, even though, as in my own case, his pink coat may have cost him five pounds, be second-hand and thirty years old. Few people, I take it, would seriously think the game of cricket improved as a spectacle if the players in a Test Match were to wear braces, bowler hats, stove-pipe trousers, or any other odd article that took their individual fancy. As a nation, we have a better sense of occasion about such matters.
To an imaginary critic a member of the M.C.C. would explain: "White is the best colour for the heat that even our climate occasionally provides, a cap keeps the sun out of the batsman's eyes, the pads are to protect his shins and the bat to strike the ball with."

The hunting critic is too concerned with his own social grievances, however, to concede that top boots keep the legs dry and warm and are polished with the same stuff and for the same reason as shoes; that breeches have been developed over the ages to prevent a loose trouser chafing the leg; that a scarlet coat, apart from preserving an age-old tradition, greatly helps those who have got left behind to rejoin the hunt, being the most easily seen of all colours at a distance; that a broad stock or tie materially reduces the risk of a broken neck, as does a hard hat a fractured skull; and that the purpose of carrying a whip with a crooked handle is to open and close gates and not to beat one's horse with!

It is surprising, too, how often the cry is raised that hunting is a rich man's sport since, even if it were, that would be quite irrelevant to any charge of cruelty. One might as well accuse the owners of steam yachts or heated swimming pools of the same offence, if wealth and cruelty are synonymous. In fact, of course, if the critics took even the most elementary trouble to check the facts instead of trying any gambit to inflame prejudice, they would learn that probably half the average field are farmers or children - of all income groups at that - whose hunting costs them virtually nothing; that the average subscriber with one horse, which he keeps himsel£ can put in a full season's hunting for no more than the cost of a packet of cigarettes daily throughout the year and certainly for less than a fortnights ski-ing or a continental bus tour; and that only the Masters who underwrite the expenses of the hunt are likely to be rich - as well as generous and public spirited to undertake the office.

By the same token if anyone thinks that hunting is an exclusive sport, they have only to ring the local Hunt Secretary to find that this is far from being the case. Obviously to hunt a newcomer should in common prudence take enough riding lessons to be no danger to himself or to others. With this done he will be welcomed warmly since hunting as much as any other human activity depends for its vitality on a constant stream of new recruits. The British Field Sports Society exists, too, to aid and advise new recruits.

I have dealt with the "sour grapes" objections first since they are so manifestly irrelevant even though I believe them to be the mainspring of the attack. I now turn to the more serious charges which are worthy of closer examination. Still leaving the detailed consideration of the fox and his habits to another contributor, I am now thinking solely of the motives of those who hunt.

Here the technique of the "antis" is one of bald assertion, without any attempt to cite evidence, that would certainly be unacceptable to any court of law. If I were to say, for example, that all brewers were in business for the sole and exclusive purpose of poisoning the general public, I would be asked to produce facts in support of my contention and, in default of my doing so, would be branded as a crank, since it is obviously unreasonable to assume that any group of one's fellow creatures have motives at such variance with the ordinary run of humanity.

Yet if anyone asserts that a mixed group of countrymen - farmers, local traders, doctors, schoolmasters with their wives and children - goes to considerable trouble and some expense for the exclusive purpose of torturing foxes and seeing them hounded to their death, there are a lot of people who are prepared to accept that statement without any pause to consider its inherent improbability.

Yet the entire terminology of hunting itself belies this view. We talk about a "follower of hounds" not a "follower of fox", and describe someone as a "good man to hounds" not "a good man to fox".

In a fairly wooded country such as I live in it is unusual for a follower actually to witness the death of a fox more than a couple of times in a season. If to be in at the death were the object of hunting is it likely that anyone would go to the trouble for such rare satisfaction? Would it not be cheaper to pull the wings off the birds in one's garden? Or to give strychnine to the kittens? Yet hunting people subscribe a considerable proportion of the funds of the R.S.P.C.A., which might reasonably lead one to suppose that they have the interests and welfare of animals at heart.

Why, then, a more knowledgeable opponent will say, if you claim there is so little interest in the death of foxes, are those that have taken refuge in a hole or drain dug out, destroyed by humane killer and then thrown to hounds to tear into bits? Surely that shows what a blood thirsty crew you are?
Of course foxes that go to ground must be destroyed, since one of the objects of hunting, albeit not the principal one to the followers, is the control of a pest; and farmers whose land is hunted over expect them to be kept within moderate bounds. Digging out can be a lengthy and tedious business, during which riders and horses get cold and bored, and I have never yet met the man who would not sooner move on for the chance of a good gallop. Yet, as a distasteful part of the contract, the job must needs be done. As for "breaking up" a fox, I was once asked by an indignant spectator how I would like to be torn limb from limb. I received no thanks for pointing out that precisely that will happen to a lot of us, since a post mortem follows any inexplicable death; and that foxes, like human beings, are not unduly worried by what happens after death.

Why, then, do people hunt if, as I claim, it has nothing directly to do with bloodlust or the killing of foxes?

The precise ingredients of the formula will vary from individual to individual, but I suggest that the following will find their place: love of countryside in all its moods; the desire for exercise and the joy of having wind and rain beat on one's cheek; the pleasure to eye and ear of a pack in full cry; the feel of a good horse between one's legs and the freedom to gallop over wide spaces; the undeniable sense of danger and the "butterflies" in one's stomach as a fox is halloa'ed away; the exercise of the high skill necessary to choose one's own line over country and the sense of comradeship and peace as one hacks home in the dusk at the end of a long day. To these I would certainly add the bacon and eggs and hot bath that await one's return -but this, too, has nothing to do with cruelty....

There are some opponents of the sport who will not concede that these motives exist at all and simply dismiss them as impudent special pleading. There are others who, more detached in their outlook, will grant that they play a part, albeit a subsidiary one. But if, they ask, these are your sole reasons for hunting, why not rely on a drag line?

A drag is an artificial line made by a man riding a horse, towing behind a bag filled with aniseed soaked in urine. One immediate answer to this very natural question must obviously be that, as a fox can go where a man on a horse cannot, the line followed is bound to be far more artificial and thus less challenging to follow.

Another objection must be that as the scent is both stronger and fresher the nature of the sport is tolerably predictable in advance and everyone knows before they go out both the line to be taken and how long it will last. Just the same as the whole charm of a day's fishing lies in never knowing whether you are going to catch the fish of a lifetime or nothing at all, so one of the great fascinations of hunting is not knowing what the fates have in store.

But because the line is predictable and the scent stronger hounds run very much faster and the casualty rate for man and horse is far higher with a drag. I don't know whether our opponents put the convenience of foxes before the health of human beings and horses; but I for one would far prefer to see a sport where there is a reduced risk of a broken leg among either.

So hunting must, inevitably, be to do with the killing of foxes, even though there is no satisfaction to be derived from that fact.

I can hear the yelp of triumph as I write these words. For have I not convicted myself and my own case by this admission? Very much not so, I would say, as the contrary argument implies a totally false syllogism.

If I were to state: "Dentists enjoy exercising their skill in clearing out and filling cavities. Having teeth drilled is painful. Therefore dentists are sadistic monsters", nobody would believe me, because everyone knows perfectly well that a dentist's object is not to inflict pain, which is only a by-product of a useful. indeed an essential, activity.

Yet the League Against Cruel Sports can raise thousands of pounds yearly from a well-meaning public to crusade against an identical statement. "Hunting people enjoy exercising their skill following hounds. Foxes don't like being killed by hounds. Therefore, hunting men and women are sadistic monsters." You do not have to read philosophy at a university to see the undistributed middle implicit in both remarks.
The I950 Royal Commission on Hunting came to the unanimous view that hunting was the most humane way of controlling foxes, quite apart from its recreational value. This was opposed recently by E. W. Martin in his book The Case Against Hunting, when he concluded: "Any criticisms which I may have made of it (i.e. the Report) are due simply to the fact that my own personal bias is in the direction of abolition whereas the Committee endeavoured to weigh evidence with as much impartiality as could be brought to bear on matters that must inevitably create some sort of conflict in any mind".

I wrote to ask him if this paragraph didn't mean that while the Commission tried to be fair and objective, he had no such intention. He replied that "he was generally concerned with the ethics of hunting whereas the Committee did not deal at all with moral issues."

Surely, though, moral judgements can only flow from an unbiased examination of the facts, which do not permit of a priori judgements. It is held by all moralists that the ethical content of an action can be judged only in relation to (a) its motive and, to a much lesser extent, (b) its consequences. If, for example, I hit a young man over the head with a club in order to steal his watch, I have performed a wicked act; if it is to prevent him ravishing my daughter, then I am likely to emerge with a commendation of the Court rather than a prison sentence. That is why I have dealt at such length with the motives of those who hunt and exposed the false syllogism of the abolitionists.

So far as the consequences are concerned, the only risk of punishment I run in hitting daughter's assailant with a club is if he is such a puny young man that a ruler would have achieved the same result. Therefore, if I have been successful in demonstrating that hounds mete out a more certain and speedy death than gassing, poisoning, trapping or shooting then the second indictment, too, falls to the ground.

Of the opposers moved by an outmoded class-hatred and of the animal cranks I can hold no illusions. There is a satisfaction in moral indignation which acts like a drug on those who succumb to it. I doubt whether they will ever carry much weight in this tolerant and sensible country. The voice of common sense re-echoes the words of my constituent -" You don't look a cruel sort of man" and to her I gratefully leave the verdict.

In the foregoing I have inevitably been defending a position against attack rather than indicating the positive advantages of hunting. Other contributors will stress its value to a rural economy, its important bearing on the blood-stock industry and racing, and its use in preserving the balance of wild life in our countryside. I must, nonetheless, refer to its recreational value to thousands of busy people, some of whom have the misfortune to work in cities and find it their sole source of relaxation. fresh air and exercise in the winter months.

To a world rightly worried about problems of youthful delinquency and aggression, I must urge, too, how good it is to provide an outlet for children to do things instead of watching them being done by others. To keep a pony oneself, to have to groom it before a day's hunting and to attend to its needs on return before seeing to one's own comfort is an invaluable discipline which most hunting parents impose on their children. There is a challenge, too, in trying to keep up with the grown-ups on a shaggy pony over all sorts of country that evokes guts and an ability to reach instantaneous decions, which are qualities this country will always need.

If the abolitionists were to succeed in their attempts, much music and colour would depart from our countryside along with an age-old tradition; much opportunity for youthful adventure and adult fellowship would be lost; one of our few remaining and most attractive animals would be ruthlessly exterminated, and we would be a long step nearer towards sinking into the terrifying mediocrity of modern subtopia.
 

OLD BEACHIN FARM
 

CARTHORSES, PIG AND GOAT KEEPING

Carthorses were the prime moving force on the farm before the arrival of the old Austin 1924 10/4 open touring car. With the long pole on the Bamlett Horse Mower shortened and a Bert Siville drawbar fitted mowing became mechanized and we had an old photo of Tom driving Mary Price the land girl in the front seat with Young Don and Bill Eaves in the back and brother Bill working the mower. This must have been the first Fastrack.

Later on Tom cut the backseats off the Austin and fitted a flat deck to make the very first Austin Pickup. Tom purchased the first tractor - a Standard Fordson and did contract work round the neighbouring farms. We had 5 horses on the farm; a big Shire Mare called Camel and a big Shire Gelding whose name is no longer politically correct but suffice to say that he was very big and black. Old Lucy was a lighter Hackney and her cross bred foals Windsor Lad - he was born the day the King’s horse of the same name won the Derby, and Little Lucy.

The two big horses did the heavy work Windsor did the hay turning and horse raking and other such work. He had a mind of his own and a wicked sense of humour. He used to pull the muck tumbrel through the double shippon and would stretch his neck forward and nip a cow on the backside and jump back before she kicked out. If you had not seen him do it when you got behind her with your muck shovel she took her revenge on you. Down the last few stalls he would keep going faster till he could open the sliding doors and watch the world go by.

Another of his tricks was when you were horse raking if you did not tie the bit with string he would play with it till he got it loose and then run for home. On one such occasion Ray had to bale out over the back of the rake and was none too pleased when Dad asked him if the horse was alright; the crafty old so and so was behind the hay shed eating hay.

The two Lucy's were kept as brood mares and the high light of the year was when a new foal was born. The foals were reared and sold at the Wrexham horse sales in the Wynnstay Arms Yard, On the day the last two were sold there was a new buyer at the sale who bought a lot of the horses that day and it turned out he was buying them for horse meat. A very sad day for horse breeding at Old Beachin and something that did not fit in to Dads way of things - he said there would be no more carthorse foals born to end up that way. To someone who had worked with them all his life this was a very sad day.

Camel was used to pull heavy loads and the old fashioned muck cart in winter when the going was hard. From when I was about the age of twelve they used to let me take the muck cart to the field and put the muck in cobs on top of the butts to be spread by hand at a later date. The horses at home never went on the road so were not shod so Camel had feet like dinner plates and if you walked along side through a muddy gateway you got covered. So I used to ride between the collar and the saddle; this was a good idea except for the fact that the straps that held the collar to the saddle had long gone and when the old mare decided to have a drink at a pool of water me and the collar flew down her neck and I ended up on my back in the puddle looking up at an old mare with a wry smile on her face. Windsor Lad was the last cart horse left at Old Beachin and became the farm mascot. He lived to a ripe old age and spent his last ten years with the freedom of the city.

PIGS & GOATS

Pig feeding and breeding was all part of the Cheshire system of farming; cows produced the milk for cheese making which produced the whey that fed the pigs, and they in turn produced the muck that grew the grass.

Dad wanted some saddle back gilts to cross with a large white boar this was a good cross because the saddle back was a much better mother than the Large White sow. If you had ever encountered a bad tempered old white sow before the days of farrowing crates you would know she would try and eat you and very often did eat any poor little piglet who strayed too near her head.

The result of this cross was a blue and white pig that was not as fat as the pure saddle back and put on weight very well. Mr. Billy Williams of Leonard Wright and Co Chester told Dad he had a farm sale at a little place in Wales where they had some nice gilts for sale and which the Boss subsequently bought. The next lot was two Billy Goats and Mr. W. knowing he was on a hiding to nothing knocked them down to Dad for two pounds. The old lady on whose farm the sale was held was very pleased he had bought them because they had lived with the pigs and were going to a good home.

Two Billy goats are about the most useless things on earth unless you are a randy Nanny Goat and everybody wondered what to do with them until it was discovered they ate fag packets and anything else that they could pick up and did a good job cleaning up the farm yard. All went well until they found the washing line and redesigned the ventilation system in old aunties comms, (for readers under a certain age this is a one piece under garment with a back hatch). Soon after there was a panic when they got in the garden but panic not they went straight to the ivy growing up the front of the house and so with the added assistance of oil drums and planks they clipped up to the top of the bedroom windows.

In 1939 Langford’s of Tarvin built the new shippons - one double shippon for eighty eight cows and two single six shippons making modern milking buildings for 100 cows. Like most builders in those days they where also funeral directors and if Harold had time to spare between jobs he would call in for a cup of tea and a chat in the limo. On this particular day it was near Poppy Day and he rolled up with three five shilling poppies on the radiator cap - a real splash. The goats where very impressed and when he went out he had three five bob bits of wire on the bonnet he was not amused at all..

The next door farmer at Lea Manor was Mr. Ferny Williamson the owner of the Grand National winner Russian Hero. He had decided to engage Bees Nurseries to re plant his garden with rose trees at tremendous expense. The goats got wind of this and decided to go and admire the handy work and found the blooms very much to their taste. Ferny was even less impressed and instead of shooting the B… things decided to claim - even Dads friendly insurance agent thought claiming for animal straying when the animals concerned could climb planks was a bit rich but agreed to contribute if we stopped goat farming. We advertised them in the Chronicle - a small brown and white one and a tall black and white one with swept back horns and a very distinct bouquet. Someone bought the small one for ten shillings we sent the other one to Chester Auction and never heard any more about him. But a very good outcome in all events.