The End of the Hunt

During my last skiing trip to Switzerland I was spending a contemplative moment in the guest’s lounge admiring the beautiful view of the mountains when I happened to notice the prints on the walls. As is so very common in hotels throughout the world they were prints of traditional English hunting scenes, a little faded but eloquent reminders of an England which seems to be no more. It would be hard to defend fox hunting for what it is. Grown men bounding around the countryside on horseback chasing down a small carnivorous pest but that is an over-simplification of the issue. What one should ask now is this; now that foxhunting is no more what will become of the hounds, the horses, the farriers, the saddlers, the tailors and the stable-hands? Obviously the animals will be put down, the people will be made unemployed and rural poverty will exacerbate. I’m sure that there are some city folk who believe that the countryside is awash with gentrified money but I can assure them that they are wrong. The saddest thing is that this relatively harmless activity which is so internationally associated with British culture has passed away into the history books, and I say harmless because it is actually quite rare for the huntsmen to actually catch a fox (most injuries are sustained be people falling from their mounts). All those parliamentary hours spent debating and arguing this issue while violent crime soars and child poverty swells seem quite misspent to me for after all how can we justify putting the welfare of a feral pest above that of our people? Only in England I suppose.