College Valley and North Northumberland Hunt
Chris Howells and His Hounds
One day some years ago while recuperating from whatever had me grounded at the moment, I decided to follow my home pack, the Blue Ridge foxhounds, by vehicle. Fortunately, Chris Howells had an open seat, so I climbed into his blue pickup truck.
I knew that whatever would be seen of the action that day from any vehicle would be seen from Chris’s truck first. Every road follower wants to ride with Chris. If there’s no room, they do their best to follow him. Chris knows the country and how the foxes run.
Chris hunted the Blue Ridge foxhounds from 1973 to 2001 during the Mastership of Judy Greenhalgh. Since his retirement from the saddle, Chris has been following hounds on the roads for another almost twenty years. He serves as the principal road whip and remains a valued and knowledgeable member of the staff.
The following article was first published in the November 1983 edition of "Horseplay" magazine. –Ed.
The early morning light shows a solitary figure on his way to the kennels, a terrier at his heels and a can of Pepsi in his hand. Christopher P. Howells, huntsman for the Blue Ridge Hunt in Boyce, Virginia, is about to start another busy day. Hounds greet him with an enthusiastic din, but turn quiet as he speaks to them in his soft English accent and sees to the feeding.
Foxhunting on the English-Scottish Border
College Valley in North Northumberland
Although I had hunted in England, my education was incomplete according to my friends Matthew Mackay-Smith and Cliff and Laura Hunt. I had never hunted with the English and Scottish Fell packs. To remedy that void in my experience they convinced me to join them on their annual pilgrimage to the Border Country. There I discovered another mode of hunting altogether, and I shall be forever grateful to them, for it was not to be missed.
As an ordinary member of the field, how does your dream hunt unfold? In mine, there’s no Field Master. I jog right up to the huntsman’s side where I can be in close touch with the pack. And if I get ahead of him when hounds are running, he smiles and says, “Go on!” It happens there is such a place, and you don’t have to dream (or die) to get there.
Foxhunting in the “Garden of Ireland”
West Wicklow Senior Master and huntsman Rupert Macauley takes hounds to covert. / Noel Mullins photo
Well-known hunting author Willie Poole once said, “There is no landscape in the world that can’t be enhanced by a pack of hounds.” County Wicklow, known colloquially as the Garden of Ireland, has a reputation for beauty quite on its own. Add the foxhounds to a landscape of blue skies, sheep grazing in green fields, extensive plantations, and snow-capped hills, and the image describes perfectly my day with hounds from Pat Kavanagh’s Hampton Lodge Equestrian Centre at Brittas.
Huntsmen of Our Time
Excerpts from Huntsmen of Our Time by Kenneth Ligertwood, Pelham Books, London, 1968 (Out of print, but used copies are available on the Internet)
This book, containing a collection of articles first published in Horse and Hound (UK), was brought to my attention by Dennis Downing, huntsman at the Blue Ridge Hunt (VA). Each story—forty-five in all—profile an outstanding English huntsman of the author’s time. Here are short excepts from three of the stories to give you a flavor of this delightful book.
