“Tho’ hoarfrost lingered in the shade, and rime lay white in copse and glade, upon the winter landscape played a sun as mild as May. With trampling hoof and stirrup clink the lanes beneath them rang; whole hamlets ran to watch them prink in brown and...
Those that know me – know I love to travel, especially if it involves watching hounds. I like to visit; meet hunting friends, I have to say I am not that sociable at a meet (which is not my nature) but because there is only a small window in which to take...
“Now here’s to the Baron, and all his supporters, the thrusters, the skirters, the whole of the tale; And here’s to the falrest of all hunting quarters, the widest of pastures, three cheers for the Vale! For the fair lady rider, the rogue who beside...
I love to visit and the Essex and Suffolk Foxhounds in East Anglia are without a doubt the premier league pack. It is indeed “mini Leicestershire”. The rolling undulating grass country, specifically put down for the hunting, coverts, fences, beautifully...
The brave big hills of Exmoor, ’tis there I love to be, upon the rolling moorlands high above the Severn Sea, where hidden in the wooded coombe the murm’ring Horner winds, And where beneath the hunter’s moon the red stag guards his hinds. Across the...
I have waxed lyrical about the Exmoor Foxhounds on a previous visit and for the hound purest you cannot overlook the athleticism and beauty of these working hounds. They have an easy gait across all terrain and to watch them is a joy on the eye. It perhaps might be...
