James Barclay
The Stable Yard Is Silent
The hundredth anniversary this summer of the First World War has reminded all of us of that terrible conflict. In England, James Barclay, ex-MFH, tossed and turned through the early morning hours one night this month. Thoughts of the war, the carnage that took its toll on his family members and many horses, and what those years meant to a way of life that was so much a part of the Barclay family ran through his head. He got out of bed, sat down, and wrote this poem. At 6:30 am he finished writing. Twenty minutes later the South Wold Foxhounds came up his drive on summer exercise, making his world right once again.
The stable yard is silent, no equine friends, no ears twitching over the doors.
Where have they gone? They have gone to Europe to fight a war.
Will they be back to graze the summer pastures green?
Will they be back to see the autumn mist and hear hounds running?
Will they be back to enjoy the fifty minutes across the grass?
They and their Masters have gone to defend our freedoms.
In mud and wire they toil, no end in sight,
But the thought of hounds running and their cry deep in their veins,
Make our horse and human friends dream, dream of
A cold winter’s night, hacking homewards with the moon up high.
The Stable Yard Is Silent
The anniversary of the start of the First World War will be upon us July 28th. Four years ago, in England, on the hundredth anniversary of that terrible conflict, James Barcaly, ex-MFH, tossed and turned through the early morning hours. Thoughts of the war, the carnage that took its toll on James's family members, eighteen million people, eight million horses, and what those years meant to a way of life that was so much a part of the Barclay family ran through his head. He got out of bed, sat down, and wrote this poem. At 6:30 am he finished writing. Twenty minutes later the South Wold Foxhounds came up his drive on summer exercise, making his world right once again.
The stable yard is silent, no equine friends, no ears twitching over the doors.
Where have they gone? They have gone to Europe to fight a war.
Will they be back to graze the summer pastures green?
Will they be back to see the autumn mist and hear hounds running?
Will they be back to enjoy the fifty minutes across the grass?
They and their Masters have gone to defend our freedoms.
In mud and wire they toil, no end in sight,
But the thought of hounds running and their cry deep in their veins,
Make our horse and human friends dream, dream of
A cold winter’s night, hacking homewards with the moon up high.
An English Summer of Mixed Blessings
The Belvoir foxhounds at kennels after exercise / James Barclay photo
With the new season just about upon us, I thought I would have a look back over the last few months and see how we have been fairing. For the first time in some years now we can honestly say we have had something like a proper summer! Having said that however, the last two days have been nothing but torrential rain, which will have put the final week or two of harvest back somewhat. In June and July we bathed in endless days of sunshine which in many ways did much to pick up the gloom from previous years.
The hound shows began and some interesting results started to appear with the usual names not having it all their own way. This clearly demonstrates that the smaller packs over here now have an increasing amount of quality running through their kennels, which is not only a real pleasure to see for many, but it shows that the interest in breeding nice hounds is now not just with a few of the larger packs. For those who have produced hounds to a high standard for very many years, it must give them huge pleasure to see the others doing so well. After all, it will very likely be their lines that many of those winning today will go back too. Those in the past who have not only bred good hounds in their work but also to the conformation of body with which to last, deserve a great deal of gratitude. On a cautionary note however it would be wise that as Masterships are likely to change all too regularly nowadays, to have someone who can oversee the hounds, their welfare, and their breeding on a regular basis is a must.
Sadly, life being what it is, and with everything going along well as it was, something had to go wrong and sure enough it was not long before the dreaded kennel cough swept through large parts of the country, with some packs suffering badly.
