A Savage day

With a pack of hounds that are “second to none”, the Teme Valley enjoy an excellent day’s trail-hunting, despite the inclement weather

- FRANK HOUGHTON BROWN

THE last half-dozen of the mounted field stood in the relative shelter of the stunted oaks that clung to the bottom of the valley. These hounds had produced an excellent day in tough conditions. We set off homewards at 6pm, but when we reached the rise and turned the horses into the wind, the horizontal snow and hail was so painfully cold, we could barely walk into it.

The torturous cold had nearly beaten us by the time we arrived at the trailers and, until hounds and horses were safely installed and the comfort of the vehicle cabs reached, there was barely a word uttered.

The wind had been fairly howling at the meet on Beguildy Hill, one of the high points on this wild bracken-clad range of hills known as the Beacon. This meet was just a pull-off from a single-track lane, where trailers could park, and Robbie Savage had pulled his white carpenter’s van on to the moor as much as a wind-break as a receptacle for dispensing copious amounts of food and drink.

This Robbie Savage was not the bleach-haired Welsh football pundit, but Teme Valley huntsman David Savage’s brother, and he was hosting the meet in an extremely hospitable way.

There were 18 people on horses and more foot-followers, with several quad bikes and different 4x4 modes of transport. Jointmaster Murray Boss does not ride and was directing the parking, dressed in his aged bowler hat.

Murray and his joint-master Clodagh Blain had arranged the day, and Clodagh acts as field master. The other sport at which she excels is cycling, and her visits to remote Welsh farms on her bike in Lycra must be a unique way of clearing country.

Clodagh’s mother Sophie was on a horse. She is chairman of the hunt and a former master.