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HORSE & HOUND - JUNE 2005

Yes, the rumours are correct, Mrs Poole and I are looking to move to France and I gather that some of you want to know why. The reasons are several, but simple. The first reason is that I get my pension next December and wish to take my ‘otium cum dignitate’ – what Mr Jorrocks called “’ot with’”. Any reader of Horse and Hound who asks who Mr Jorrocks is and who has never heard of ‘Handley Cross’ and R.S.Surtees, should be ashamed of themselves. They are missing the treat of reading some of the greatest comic novels in the English Language. They are about Hunting, by the way and Hunting, by the way, is one of the main reasons for us flitting to France. Some of you may be amazed by the fact that there is hunting in France. I am amazed that you should be amazed. There are more than 300 ‘recognised’ packs in France. They hunt, variously, Stag, Boar, Roe, Hare, Fox and Badger. There are also a large number of ‘Village Packs’, which, I should think, hunt anything that moves. The French are mad keen on ‘La Chasse’ – it was one of the planks in the platform of the French Revolution. The Right to Hunt is a constitutional Right and woe betide any government that tries to meddle with it. There would be blood on the floor, roads and railways blocked, government buildings burned and general rural mayhem. No French Government would get away with an attempted destruction of a way of life, as our foul and corrupt bunch of gangsters has, but then you see the Rural Vote is much bigger in France than it is here. Here it is such a tiny percentage of the total population that NuLab thinks it can tread all over it with impunity – a grave misjudgement in my opinion and one that I hope that it will come to heartily regret. So, you may say, why don’t I hang about and see Blair get his comeuppance? The answer to that is that it is not worth waiting for. Blair is finished anyway. It is only a matter of time before NuLab, having sucked all the juices out of the pathetic little bugger, consigns his shrivelled husk to the political dung heap. Hunting is far from finished in this country. I am sure that it will return. But I am equally certain that it will not be the Hunting that I have known and loved – it will be pasteurised, homogenised and bundled up in red tape to such an extent that I do not feel that it will be worth my hanging around for.

Another reason for the move is that I have to sell the farm. I need the money to eke out my pension, always supposing that the ‘Son of the Manse’ has not already eked it out and stuffed the wedge in his back pocket. I can buy a reasonable property in France for a reasonable price and (I hope) have a bit left to live quietly on. The cost of living in France is less than it is here and there is more room. France has roughly the same population as Britain and six times the space to stuff it in. NuLab is intent on trying to stuff the proverbial quart into the proverbial pint pot. Those who wish to metricate that may do so at their leisure. The only certain thing here is that it is the Poor Bloody Peasants like me who will have to provide the extra room. In France the Peasantry is a much respected tranche of the community and no government is going to trample on it – it would not dare.

You want more reasons? All right then – the food is better and so, on the whole, is the climate. Hunting is the only thing that makes the climate in Northumberland (3 months winter and nine months bad weather) bearable. I had one winter up here without hunting (during the Foot and Mouth debacle) and I do not fancy any more like that, thank you very much.

Ah ha! People say, but what about the French then? Well, what about them? On the whole, I like the French and have many French friends. The thing to remember is that it is their country and if you go there you must remember that and try to fit in. You are the ‘Johnny Foreigner’ and it is up to you to respect the language and the customs.

Shall I miss England? Of course I shall. I shall miss the Cheviot Hills and the grand people who live and work in them. I shall miss the wonderful Border Hounds, but I shall remember all the good times, the good sport and my good friends. I shall even, Heaven help me, miss that strange genius of the chase, Michael Hedley MFH.

Should you wish to buy my house, it will be advertised in H & H (George White – 01665 603 581) and what do you want better than that.

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