IN FOR THE KILL

Words by Cymbeline Moore

(first published in Stranger issue 02 Nov 2004)

There's a tangible buzz in the crisp autumn air as 50 riders prepare to set off for a day's hunting from a farm near Perranporth. The clip-clop of hooves provides a soundtrack to the friendly banter and family chatter as drinks and nibbles are passed around. Impeccable red and navy jackets and jodhpurs on horseback mix with boiler suits and Barbours, before dozens of hounds are brought down to lead out the hunt. Within minutes, riders trot to the gate, people dash off to their cars to follow, and, with little fanfare, the hunt is on.

Now, like many people, I don't really give a toss about the fate of the fox. It would be nice to control the beast in the least painful way possible, but next to factory farming methods, unfair trade, Iraq, and Israel, hunting is a minnow in my sea of concerns.

Yet while many people remain ambivalent to hunting, the debate not only refuses to go away, but promises to escalate over the coming months. It's an issue because of the depth of feeling felt by a concerned minority, and in Cornwall - like the rest of rural UK - opinion is utterly polarised.

On one side of the chasm stand anti-hunt protestors, who view hunting as tantamount to barbarism. They are prepared to fight for the right for foxes to be left in peace and see man's intervention as cruel sport. Gilly Peachey, an artist and hunt saboteur based in St Austell, puts it plainly: "The hunts may consider it necessary and part of their heritage, but that's bollocks. There's no need for it; foxes control themselves if you let nature get on with it. Hunting is motivated by an inherent blood lust; the thrill of the chase and then the kill. How else do you explain blood from the kill being smeared on the faces of young people?"

While packs of huntsmen toffs with blue blood dripping from fangs paints a vivid picture, it's hard to imagine that this is an accurate portrayal. At the start of the Four Burrow hunt meeting the riders, spectators and well-wishers look like they are baying for a hot beverage rather than blood. James Stuart, a member of the hunt for 20 years, assures me that he has never seen 'blooding'- the initiation rite for young hunters. "I think that's a bit barbaric," he adds.

Similarly, fellow huntsman Jonathan McCullock (29) stresses it isn't about the blood. "If I came out hunting for the thrill of bloodshed, I'd ask for my money back at the end of the season," he says. "I've seen one fox killed in probably 15 years of hunting. If I was going out for the bloodlust, I'd have given up long ago and worked in an abattoir."

Body count aside, around 70 foxes get killed each season per Hunt, but hunters are as passionate as their opponents in their justifications. "We are operating pest control to keep a balanced fox population," said Stuart, an agronomist. "It's the old, the sick and the injured foxes we catch; it's natural selection at work - any other forms of control kill indiscriminately."

McCullock adds that the hunts cannot follow pregnant vixens, as they do not give any scent. Stuart also argues that their methods are humane, as alternatives such as snaring and shooting may cause foxes a slow and painful death. There are even reports of foxes chewing their own feet off to escape from snares.

A hunt in action

The fact that neither side of the hunting divide can claim outright animal welfare victory underlines the fact that hunting is not just an issue of animal rights. It's a human issue and by human, we mean class.

Hunts conjure up images of a squirearchy in hats and tails arrogantly maintaining an elitist sport on mounds of cash and influence. It is these perceptions and the assertion of democracy over feudalism that underpinned the Labour MPs' vigorous pursuit of the hunting ban. The old families might still own the land, they argue, but they will no longer have control of how they run it.

While horses don't come cheap, hunting's toff-tag seems wide of the mark - especially in Cornwall. At the Four Burrow hunt, amid the posh plumy accents and Land Rover Discoveries, are guys in boiler suits chatting in thick Cornish accents and smoking roll-ups. The 150-member Hunt is a mix of farmers, plumbers, and electricians as well as solicitors and doctors - of all ages and walks of life.

By exaggerating class issues for their own agenda and holding out for an outright ban, the politicians may find their plans backfiring. Feudalism has been eroded and Blair punished for his arrogance over Iraq but at what price?

When hunting becomes illegal, thousands of livelihoods linked to Cornwall's seven hunts will be affected - from kennel staff to farriers, publicans and stables. Farmers will also suffer, as Hunts no longer collect dozens of dead livestock every season. The carcasses are food to the hounds and the kennel staff also provide a valuable service, given that by law farmers cannot bury the dead animals.

In response to their loss of livelihoods and tradition, hunters are preparing to mount a number of attacks. Aside from the legal challenge to the Parliament Act, there will be mass pro-hunting protests in the run-up to the election and vigorous contesting of marginal seats. Some farmers are also considering refusing to let utility companies onto their land to carry out maintenance work on pylons and pipes.

And then there is enforcement. Come 18 February, it will still be legal to ride in order to exercise the hounds, but not with the intent to kill a fox. Distinguishing between the two without evidence will be extremely problematic - as will securing convictions when many police and magistrates in rural Cornwall are pro-hunting.

Hunting has also been an issue for the few; in passing the hunting bill the government has ensured it will become an issue for many. The groups which feel passionate on both sides are set to dig their heals in even deeper. Prepare yourselves - it really is people not foxes that are set to cause a real stink.

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