His Master's wrath

A great deal goes into the planning of a day’s hunting so woe betide those who upset the Master in the field

- RORY KNIGHT BRUCE

Of all the great wisdoms of hunting, perhaps the finest is the observation by Surtees that “more people are flattered into virtue than are bullied out of vice”. We have all made our mistakes on the hunting field, and hopefully learned from them, but it is more often than not a quiet word from the Master that we remember best rather than a full-on blowing up in front of the mounted followers, which can often lead to an embarrassed silence.

“The edge of severity is blunted by repetition,” is another Surtees saying, which, it may be hoped, all Masters understand. Yet, given the pressures on Masters on a hunting day, sometimes a flash of exasperated temper is understandable. Getting too close to hounds, the cardinal sin of kicking one, having a dog off the lead at any time in the day, or trying to get a head start when the huntsman is still lifting his hounds to a halloa may all, quite rightly, invite a Master’s wrath.

Sometimes an offense against the Master and his love of hunting can be committed of the hunting field. That wonderful diarist James Lees-Milne, who moved to Essex House next to Badminton in the 1970s, is best remembered for his work at the National Trust, for saving many a mansion for the nation. To ‘Master’, the 10th Duke of Beaufort, Master, and huntsman of his own hounds for more than 60 years, he was ‘pointless’, even though he was his tenant.