Claire Wright
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Claire Wright © Alastair Wharton
Claire Wright is a 26 year old trainee land agent who lives, works and hunts in Cambridgeshire. She whips-in to the Eastern Counties Minkhounds, and also hunts with the Fitzwilliam (Milton) on a bike, or goes beagling with the Trinity Foot & South Herts. Claire is Cambridgeshire County Chairman for the Countryside Alliance
As with all British minkhounds, the Eastern Counties continue to practice with artificial lines along the river banks in the anticipation that the Hunting Act 04 will be repealed in due course.
Claire Wright Visits Devon & Somerset Staghounds
The Real Exmoor Files
My friend Guy jokingly calls it the international hunting family - the way you can find a person who hunts anywhere on the globe and immediately have something in common to talk about. This was certainly the case on my recent travels to the West Country.
I’d booked a week at the Youth Hostel in Exford (highly recommended if anyone is looking for no frills accommodation on a visit to Exmoor) to remedy a glaring omission in my sporting education and get out for a few days with the staghounds.
The best pub in Exford!
I arrived late in the village after a long day with the Eastern Counties Minkhounds at the West of England Hound Show and desperate for food I ended up in The Crown. Within the hour I had discovered the offerings of the local brewery and fallen into conversation with Kevin Atkins, one of the harbourers for the Devon & Somerset Staghounds. I was due to attend my first meet on the next morning and he was happy to explain some of the basics, the local politics of dealings with the National Trust and just what the Hunting Act has meant for the packs down there.
I had arranged to join one of my friends, Tom for the meets on Friday & Saturday – I’m glad I did as without his local knowledge I doubt I would have located the meet let alone been able to follow. The local terrain and narrow lanes makes car following a difficult task, unlike the flat lands of home - it is a case of getting to a vantage point and watching from a distance through binoculars.
It is easy to forget just how badly affected the staghounds have been by the lunacy of the Hunting Act. This decrees that they may only use a couple of hounds at any one time. This would be bad enough in a lowland environment, but watching Donald Summersgill drawing a vast covert of dense woodland on foot, with just the two hounds really brought home what these packs have had to deal with over the past four years. If the practicalities of deer management with a couple of hounds weren’t enough to try the patience, such a scenario also proves enormously difficult to enter the young hounds joining the pack.
We had a relatively good view of the morning activity without having to wander too far from the meet field, until the stag eventually strayed onto National Trust land and the decision was taken to blow for home.
On Saturday I was again taken round by Tom who seems to know most of the good places to view from. Unlike Friday it wasn’t possible to stay in one place, but Tom did a fabulous job of getting in the right places – even if you do need nerves of steel to be a passenger when the car followers decide to move en masse.
The marksman was eventually able to dispatch the stag and it was taken by land rover to a convenient location nearby, here Donald paunched the beast. The venison will be distributed to farmers and landowners who have suffered crop damage from the deer so not one piece of it was wasted. Again seeing a newcomer, the followers were keen to explain the etiquette of dividing the carcass.
Sunday is traditionally a day of rest, not that you’d notice in Exford as the two pubs met to do battle in a traditional cricket match. One thing that struck me is how the community are not only involved in the hunt, but that the hunt and its staff are also involved in the local community events. Needless to say the best team won and it was back to The Crown for celebrations.
I’d been told that one follower in particular was the man to talk to for directions to meets – my map reading is liable to be rather hit and miss so I’d need all the help I could get. Shyly I approached to ask him if he could advise on the easiest route to Kingsbrompton Farm “aye” he replied, “meet me here and I’ll take you” – between him and the other followers they then proceeded to sort out my diary for the rest of my holiday, Exmoor Foxhounds on Monday, Devon & Somerset on Tuesday and then home on Wednesday.
Given the problems with the hunt monitors and the recent prosecution I had expected people to treat me with suspicion, but without exception everyone I met was friendly, chatty and willing to explain what was going on to a complete newcomer.
True to his word the follower picked me up in his landrover and took me up to the meet, he had also agreed to take me round for the day and share his knowledge and experience. He has been following the Devon & Somerset Staghounds all his life. Indeed his best advice was that “if work gets in the way of being out with the hounds, give up work!” as a result his depth of knowledge about Exmoor is second to none and he guided us into the best places to see what could be seen, given the heavily wooded valley that made up the bulk of the local area.
Having located the harboured stag, the car followers moved on and my guide had barely finished saying ‘if we wait here we might see the stag” before it trotted down the track in front of us. I can’t describe what an amazing experience this was, to see a red deer at such close quarters.
By lunchtime the promised barbecue summer looked set to be making a late appearance as the sun blazed down on us. The warmth of the day took its toll on the scent and with the stag eventually lost, the end of the day was called and we set off back to The Crown for some much needed liquid refreshment.
Several pints of Exmoor Gold later and I had been persuaded to extend my holiday, having been told that I couldn’t possibly go home when the Exford Show was taking place on the Wednesday and another meet of the Devon & Somerset on the Thursday.
Donald Summersgill and Peter Heard parading hounds at Exford Show
Unfortunately Wednesday, the day of the show was plagued by irritating drizzle – the sort of thing we call ‘wet rain’ back home. It couldn’t dampen enthusiasm for a show though. I headed up to the showground in the afternoon with some of the D & S followers. The first thing to draw my attention was the judging of the antlers in a variety of classes. This is fascinating to watch as the judge carefully compares the size, evenness and colouring to come up with the eventual winner.
This is a proper, traditional hunt show, which despite the weather was a pleasure to attend. There were all manner of showing classes, terrier racing, shooting competitions and of course the traditional parade of hounds and the hotly contested inter-hunt relay, which involves half the team riding round the course of jumps and the other two members running round – guaranteed entertainment as I’m sure you can imagine! The D & S eventually took the first, second and third places in the contest.
By 5pm the show was drawing to a close and it was all hands on deck to get cleared away and back to the pub to dry off – are you seeing a theme to this holiday yet?
There was a rather more leisurely start to my last morning in Exford – the early morning meets (at a rather civilised 8am) had finished on Thursday and so they were back at 11am. I again hitched a ride up to the meet at the showground, together with two other regular visitors to Exmoor.
Once again his local knowledge proved invaluable and as we sat at Lee Rocks with the other car followers we were treated to the site of 5 stags moving across the hill to lie up in the shade. It is hard to capture the excitement of the day in words.
Bouncing around in the back of the landrover as we pelted across country to get in the right places and the thrill of glimpsing either the hounds or the stag. Eventually after several laps of the locality around the meet, the marksman was called to complete his job and the day was over, with the stag being loaded into a truck to be taken up to the kennels.
It was with a feeling of sadness that I returned to The Crown for a final drink and to say my goodbyes before hitting the road for the long journey back to East Anglia. The Devon & Somerset followers still hadn’t given up and were trying to get me to stay in Somerset until the Opening Meet. Reluctantly I left them in The Crown.
One thing is for certain I’ll be back to visit the West Country branch of the sporting family sooner rather than later!
Along the Riverbank
Most people who know me will probably agree that I am a bit of a scruffy bugger. The sort of person who generally looks like they have been dragged through a hedge backwards, happiest in my ripped jeans and an old polo shirt. Even when in hunt uniform, five minutes after leaving the meet I am usually covered in mud and stray pieces of vegetation.
For this reason the past month has been somewhat of a trial with three major shows alongside our usual commitments on the river bank.
I have to say the salesman at Brocklehurst’s got rather personal when he was fitting me with a kennel coat at the Festival of Hunting: “Turn round love; lets see how your arse looks”. Still, I looked super-smart for our first engagement of the month, the CLA Gamefair at Belvoir Castle.
The famous bowler hat
Photo: Morwenna Lewis
It was just a shame I looked (predictably) awful in my bowler hat. It was a long old day on the static stand, fielding questions from the general public who in many cases were having their first introduction to the Minkhounds. Our final task for the day was to join the evening hound cavalcade along with representatives from 8 other packs of hounds.
We had barely had time to catch breath and get organised before it was time to head down to the West Country. Last year we had done the trip in one day which had proved too much for both staff and hounds, so this time round we had arranged to kennel hounds with the Weston & Banwell Harriers allowing a much more sociable start to the show morning.
The first-whipper in was unable to make the trip, so it was just me holding hounds for the huntsman. We got off to a good start with a first and third in the part-bred dog hound classes. This early victory later qualified us for the part-bred championship, which Derby took home for the second time. The final class of the day was the Champion of Champions. Here the pure bred and the part bred champions go head to head for the most coveted trophy.
I always seem to be so busy concentrating on what our hounds are doing that I never look round at how the other packs are getting on. It was therefore a complete surprise when the judges eventually announced that Derby was their choice for the champion of champions title and as a result I am grinning like the village idiot on all the photos!
It was straight back into the harness on my return from an extended holiday in the West Country with a meet on the Roding. This wasn’t the most exciting of draws that we have ever done. Hounds decided to liven things up and keep the staff on their toes with a bit of riot.
The first time I managed to recover hounds from the wheat field without incident, but the second time I wasn’t so lucky – one moment I was running, the next I was lying face down in the field. To my credit the hounds did stop to see what on earth I was doing! With temperatures rising we decided to call it a day rather earlier than normal and headed back to the meet.
They do say there is no rest for the wicked, and starting to feel in need of another holiday I packed my kit for another hectic weekend. We started with a meet on the Chelmer. Needing to keep our best uniform clean for the Master of Minkhounds Association Show on the Sunday those who were due to be in the ring with hounds were in civvies for the day. Hounds worked well, which took the edge off what had been a disappointing day last weekend. Once again our followers had done us proud at the halfway stage providing drinks and cake for the ravenous hunt staff, fuelling us to crack on to the end of the draw.
It was another early start to travel up to Ragley Hall near Stratford Upon Avon for the official Masters of Minkhounds Association Show. It was lovely to see so many packs represented and even lovelier to see the sunshine, something that has been rather lacking in previous years.
At 10am we were straight into the judging of the dog hounds, again we got off to a good start in the Otter Hound Cross and Welsh Cross classes, picking up two firsts with Dereham as well as a handful of seconds and thirds.
We then joined the other mink hound packs, the Cheshire Beagles, the Stour Valley Minkhounds, the Albrighton Woodland foxhounds and Harry Parsons’ Sealyhams for a parade of hounds. The ring consists of a single rope, so it is a demanding task to keep an eye on the pack to make sure they aren’t about to steal someone’s sandwich or cock their legs on a toddler.
It was gratifying to see the numbers of people flooding into the ring to meet the hounds, eventually they were persuaded to leave and after another lap we were able to grab some lunch. Several followers had made the trip to support us at the show and between them and the wife of one of the masters they had created a marvellous picnic lunch.
Our rosettes | Photo: Liz Drane
Anthony Ringe MH and Claire Wright
The Winning Team at Ragley | Photo: Liz Drane
Douglas Mann MH (Joint-Master); Claire Wright (Second Whip); Anthony Ringe MH (Huntsman & Joint-Master); James Batchelor (First Whip) and Peter Stevens (Joint-Master)
Reluctantly we stirred ourselves from deckchairs to take hounds into the ring for the bitch hound classes, we didn’t do so well in the afternoon session with the few hounds we had put forward. It was then onwards and upwards to the championship classes. Ragley has four championships for the various types of Minkhounds, Dereham ended up taking both of the part bred championships and in a re-run of the action at Honiton, and we then went up against the Ytene for the supreme championship. There must have been much gnashing of teeth as the judges after much deliberation declared that Dereham was the overall show champion.
We weren’t released to get changed out of our uniforms until the prize giving had taken place. As this is the main show for Minkhounds there is a lot of silverware at stake. It was wonderful to take home to East Anglia the cups for best part-bred dog hound and Supreme Champion, but I was most chuffed to be awarded the salver for best turned out hunt staff on the day.
There was some teasing from those who had seen me out hunting the day before in faded jeans, an old checked shirt and my straw hat – which hasn’t been the same since its voyage down the Cripsey Brook - and were convinced the judges had made some mistake!
With a long journey home ahead of us we couldn’t celebrate with anything alcoholic, so it was glasses of squash round the back of the hound van before we headed back to base. There was much singing along by the huntsman to ‘we are the champions’ while the embarrassed first whip tried desperately to pretend he wasn’t associated with us.
Our next meet at The Chelmer brought us back down to earth with a bit of a bump. Things did not get off to a brilliant start when my map reading skills, or lack thereof, made me over an hour late to the meet, thankfully due to confusions over whether we were meeting at 10am or 11am hounds hadn’t moved off and in 30 seconds flat I had my boots and hat on ready to join the huntsman on the walk down to the start of the draw. No time to knot my tie, which led to more gentle teasing about whether I was quite certain I had won the best turned out at Ragley...
This is a rather nice open draw by East Anglian standards; you can almost pretend you are in the meadows of Sussex. Although I have now realised that the mastership also failed to mention the whipping in of cattle as being part of my job description. The nice weather had brought out fishermen, canoeists and pleasure craft of all descriptions so there was plenty to challenge the hunt staff in keeping hounds focused on the job in hand.
The stick leaning group, and riverbank chatter
Photo: Barry Domville
Sadly, despite the beauty of the surroundings, it also left me thinking how disgusting humans can be; at one point during the day we had to cross the river to draw up a runner. I found myself wading through veritable debris of empty bottles, beer cans and litter that had been discarded by other users of the river, before crossing over a weir that had been defaced by graffiti.
Hounds worked well despite the difficult conditions and numerous distractions, although there was a slightly awkward moment when it looked as though the younger hounds (Bramble, Biscuit and Bagel - affectionately known as The B Team) were contemplating capsizing two passing canoes.
We drew as far as the end of the cleared country, before turning round and drawing back up again towards the meet. Needless to say I ended the day covered in bits of foliage, river slime and muddy paw prints – but then as a local master of beagles famously said: “There are no prizes for clean breeks on the hunting field...”
Claire Wright