Eamonn Fitzgerald's Rainy Day

What an odd bunch these islanders are. The Irish ban smoking but permit foxhunting; the English plan to ban foxhunting but permit smoking. Where's the logic in that, I ask you? So where does Rainy Day stand on the burning issue of hunting? Well, shocking as this may to you, gentle person, our memories of foxhunting are all positive. We grew up just a few miles away from a place called Scarteen, home of the famous Black and Tan hunt, which was led by the very glamorous Thady Ryan. The first great practical value of the hunt was that when one of our large animals died, a cow, say, the chaps from Scarteen would come along and take the corpse away and feed it to those hungry beagles. This was a win-win situation for all concerned. A perfect example of the kind of rural synergy the eco types are always on about.

The second value of the hunt was that it added a splash of colour to the rural landscape. The red jackets, the dashing riders, the elegant horses, the baying hounds... The show was a welcome distraction for those whose lives tended to be lived in forty shades of rather damp green. We didn't wish the fox ill, but his determination to steal our hens didn't make him a friend of the family either. Overall, though, the fox's intelligence and persistence were admired and most people had a certain respect for the scoundrel, to whom they often ascribed human-like qualities. This is very much evident in the great 19th century ballad "Reynard The Fox", made famous by Sweeny's Men:

Reynard The Fox

On the first day of March in the year of ninety-three
The first recreation was in this country
The King's County gentlemen o'er hills, dales and rocks
They rode out so joyfully in search of a fox

When Reynard was started he faced Tullamore
And Arklow and Wicklow along the sea shore
We kept his brush in view every yard of the way
And it's straight he made his course through the street of Roscrea

But Reynard, sly Reynard lay hid there that night
And we swore we would watch him until the daylight
Next morning early the hills did resound
With the sweet smell of horses and the sweet cry of hounds

When Reynard was started he faced to the hollow
Where none but the footmen and hounds they could follow
The gentlemen cried "Watch him, watch him, what will he do?
If the rocks do not stop him he will cross Killaloe"

When Reynard was captured his wishes to fulfil
He sent for pen and paper and ink to write his will
And what he made mention of, we found it no blank
For he gave us a cheque on the National Bank.

"Oh to you, Mr Casey, I leave my whole estate
And to you, Mr Johnson, my money and my plate
I give to you, Sir Monaghan, my whips, spurs and cap
For you jumped hedge and ditches and ne'r looked for a gap."

Tally-ho, hark away, tally-ho hark away
Tally-ho, hark away me boys away, hark away

"Reynard (also spelled 'Raynard') The Fox" was recorded in 1968 by Sweeney's Men, a seminal group in contemporary Ireland's musical history. One of the founder members was Andy Irvine, later of Planxty fame, and his web site offers visitors the song as an MP3 download (2.75MB). Tally-ho!