Cattistock Hunting Song Top of Page
In Cattistock parish in fair
Dorsetshire,
Liv'd a pack of fox-hounds I'll vow and declare;
'Twas a pack of fox-hounds that would make the woods
ring,
They was fit to be hunted by my Lord, duke or King.
With my chivvy, chivvy-O! My I-ran-tanto-ro!
Sing fol-le-diddle-ol-dol, ol-le-dol-lol-li-day
The holes being all stopped that she could not get in,
She thought to herself that she soon would be kill'd,
She did wish with her heart she were under some ground,
Where neither huntsman, whipper-in nor the hounds could be
found.
Oh! She had not been hunted but a half-hour or more,
Before that she thought she'd be fore'd to give o'er,
But as she being so cunning, so crafty and sly,
She mounted a house that was three stories high.
Then in came Miss Venus with her nimble eye,
She saw that bold Reynard was mounted so high;
She did wish with her heart that she could her down
fetch,
But "Oh no," said bold Reynard, "for I'm out of their
reach."
Then up rode Squire Farquharson on his lively bay,
He said that bold Reynard she should have fair play.
"Come you, whip off your hounds and set her at large,
And, if she's not dead, she shall have her discharge."
Now here's health to Squire Farquharson wherever he might
be,
And likewise the huntsmen, whipper-in and company,
We will drink their good healths with all our heart,
Out of a silver tankard, full bumper or quart.
The Foxhunt Top of Page
You gentlemen of high
renown come listen unto me
That take delight in foxhunting in every high degree
A story true to you I'll tell concerning of a fox
Of Royston Hills and mountains high and over stony rocks
Old Reynold being in his den and hearing of these hounds
Which made him for to prick his ears and tread upon the
ground
Methinks me hears some jubal hounds pressing upon my
life
Before that they to me shall come I'll tread upon the
ground
We hunted full four hours or more by parishes sixteen
We hunted full four hours or more and come by Parkworth
Green
Oh if you'll only spare my life I promise and fulfil
I'll touch no more of your feathered fowl nor lamb in yonder
fold
Old Reynold beat and out of breath and dreading of these
hounds
Thinking that he might lose his life before the jubal
hounds
Oh here's adieu to duck and geese likewise young lamb
also
They've got old Reynold by the brush and will not let him
go
Swarthfell Rocks Top of Page
It were early one morning
when I rose from me bed
I've heard hark, hark away me boys so clearly
And so I drew me a little nearer, for to see who was
there
That were going out fox hunting so early
And so I drew me a little nearer, for to see who was
there
That were going out fox hunting so early
There were nine gentlemen and the Duke of Buckingham
And they each of them set out upon the trial
To see the hounds run in the north, where they have great
fame and worth
And the most of them set out with no denial
To see the hounds run in the north, where they have great
fame and worth
And the most of them set out with no denial
It were at Swarthfell Rocks, where we laid on our hounds
Not thinking a fox there being likely
Now an huntsman long I've been but the likes I've never
seen
We unkenneled bold Reynard so early
Now an huntsman long I've been but the likes I've never
seen
We unkenneled bold Reynard so early
Henry Wilkinson cried "Hark, hark away me boys"
Joe Clark, our foot-sportsman, soon heard him
Richard Mounds he cried "Oddzounds, you mun' couple up your
hounds
For this day you never will come near him"
Richard Mounds he cried "Oddzounds, you mun' couple up your
hounds
"For this day you never will come near him"
They come through our town moor, being late in the hour
It were sometimes one hound and sometimes t'other
It were hard to be expressed which of them ran him the
best
For they each ran abreast close together
It were hard to be expressed which of them ran him the
best
For they each ran abreast close together
There were Tippler and Towler and Fair Maid and Drolider
There were Countess and Blossom and Fury
And there were several other hounds ran close within his
bounds
But these were the hounds that ran near him
There were several other hounds ran close within his
bounds
But these were the hounds that ran near him
They come through Hallen Hag, their course being strong
I'm sure there was little ease in it
But our hounds they ran him well and they turned him in
again
And he took Sharrow Woods for his cover
But our hounds they ran him well and they turned him in
again
And he took Sharrow Woods for his cover
Then Reynard being weary and seeking for shelter
His way was to take the straight over
But our hounds they ran amain and they laid him in again
And there they destroyed him for ever
But our hounds they ran amain and they laid him in again
And there they destroyed him for ever
Oh Lilter followed him, and never more was seen
Which caused our great sportsmen to murmer
That a finer little hound never ran above the ground
He was the bonniest little hound in the number
Aye a finer little hound never ran above the ground
He was the bonniest little hound in the number
So now to conclude, and to finish me song
This gallant fox hunt it is all over
It's the forty-second fox that's been slain on Swarthfell
Rocks
So that puts an end to me story
It's the forty-second fox that's been slain on Swarthfell
Rocks
So that puts an end to me story
We'll all go a-hunting today Top of Page
What a fine hunting day, it's as balmy as
May,
When the hounds to our village did come.
Every friend will be there, and all troubles and care
Will be left far behind them at home.
See servants and steeds on their way
And sportsmen in scarlet display.
Let us join the glad throng that goes laughing along
And we'll all go a-hunting today
[Chorus]
So we'll all go a-hunting today
All nature looks smiling and gay
Let us join the glad throng
That goes laughing along
And we'll all go a-hunting today
Farmer Hodge to his dame says, I'm sixty
and lame
Times are hard and my rent I must pay;
But I don't give a jot if I raise it or not
For I must go a-hunting today
There's a fox in the spinney they say
We'll find him and have him away;
I'll be first in the rush, I shall ride for his brush,
For I must go a-hunting today.
As the judge sits in court, he gets wind of the sport
And he calls the whole court to adjourn
As no witness had come and there's none left at home--
They have gone with the hounds and the horn.
He says, Heavy fines you must pay
If you will not your summons obey.
It is very fine sport, so we'll wind up the court
And we'll all go a-hunting today.
And the village bells chime, there's a wedding at nine
When the parson unites the fond pair.
When he heard the sweet sound of the horn and the hound
And he knew it was time to be there.
He says, For your welfare I pray,
I regret I can no longer stay;
You've been safely made one, we must quickly be gone
For we must go a-hunting today.
None were left in the lurch, for all friends were at
church
With the beadle and clerk and aye all,
All determined to go and to shout tally-ho,
And the ringers all joined in the rear.
With the bride and bridegroom in array
They one to the other did say,
Let us join the glad throng that goes laughing along
And we'll all go a-hunting today.
There's the doctor in boots to a
breakfast that suits
Of home-brewed ale and good beef
To his patients he says, I've come once again
To consult you in hopes of relief.
To the poor, his advice he gave 'way;
To the rich, he prescribed 'em to pay.
But to each one he said, You will quickly be dead
If you don't go a-hunting today.
And there's only one cure for a malady, sure
Which reaches the heart to adjure
It's the sound of the horn on a fine hunting morn
And where is the heart wishing more?
For it turneth the grave into gay
Makes pain into pleasure give way
Makes the old become young and the weak become strong
If they'll all go a-hunting today.
According to Roy Palmer (Everyman's Book of English Country
Songs, p. 213), this song was composed by one W. Wilson for
the North Warwickshire Hunt.
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Tally-ho Hark Away. Top of Page
The sun has just peep'd
its head over the hill,
And the ploughboy is whistling so blithe in the fields,
The birds they are singing so sweet on the sprays,
Says the huntsman to his dogs, "Tally-ho! Hark away!"
Tally-ho! Hark Away! Tally-ho! Hark Away!
Tally-ho! Tally-ho! Tally-ho! Hark Away!
Come, now my brave
sportsmen and make no delay,
Quickly saddle yur horses and let's brush away,
For the fox is in view and he's kindled with scorn,
Come along, my brave sportsmen and join the shrill horn.
He led us a chase, more than twenty long miles,
Over hedges, over ditches, over gates and over stiles;
Little David came up with his musical horn,
"We shall soon overtake him, for his tail darags along."
He led us a chase six huors in full cry,
Tally-ho Tally-ho! for now he must die.
We will cut off his brush witha holloaing noise,
And we'll drink a good health to the fox-hunting boys.
Sung to the tune of the "Wearing of the Green"
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