Steve Brookman shared this wonderful poem he had written at our recent Story Night social:

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THE STAFF COLLEGE DRAG HUNT

By Steve Brookman

This is an ode to our Hunt, the amazing Staff College Drag,
With hounds working in couples, pursuing scented rag,
In 1869 it all began, and Queen Victoria reigned,
And at the Military Academy, new officers were trained,
They were taught to use a horse, to hunt and jump and ride,
To chase a human quarry over rolling countryside.
 

This went on for many years through peace and times of war,
Then mechanics and technology were pushed right to the fore,
And slowly the riding would diminish as engines took control,
As mechanised transportation took on the horses role,
But the Drag Hunt would continue as the decades came and went,
And today it’s stronger than it ever was, a major social event.
 

But, there are some rules that you should know, the proper etiquette,
You need the proper hat and coat, and for long hair, a net,
Your horses should be plaited, and your boots? Best if they’re black,
This is after all the Staff College Drag, it’s not some random hack!
The Masters take the lead of course, and they are clear to see,
Sitting tall with collars green and coats of burgundy.
 

So, let’s understand and let’s be clear, just why it’s all so grand,
There’s hounds, horses and riders galloping across the land,
The farmers and the landowners give us their permissions,
To explode upon their lands…depending on conditions,
And at the start the Stirrup Cup, a little tot of port,
Some Masters words, and then we’re off, let’s gallop, and cavort.
 

For some this is their first affair, they’re ‘virgins’ of the hunt,
Some horses start to prance and spin, some want to be up front,
Whilst others take it in their stride, they’re old hands at this,
Safe as houses, jump it all, nothing goes amiss,
Some refusals, one handed jumps, some riders just don’t care,
They love the thrill of taking off, and sailing through the air.

Across the fields and through the trees, jumping hedge and ditches,
Following the huntsman, following the dogs, and following the bitches,
Keep your eyes peeled, hear the horn, be guided by the masters,
Look to front then look behind, avoiding all disasters,
Let’s have a happy, joyful time, make sure you don’t get hurt,
But even so, there could be some who end up eating dirt!
 

One line down, hounds take a breath… you’re ready that’s for sure,

So off you charge, the hounds lead off, lines 2 and 3 and 4,
Hedges getting bigger, the biggest ones some hate,
Some don’t like to take the chance, they just go through the gate,
What is it that we love so much, what is this ‘driving force’?,
Well it’s the chase, the craic, going supersonic and flying on your horse.
 

And at the end there sits the huntsman, calling in the hounds,
Lots of laughing, smiling faces and lots of happy sounds,

Horses are dismounted, un-tacked and put away,
Then we get together, to share stories of the day,
It’s like a drug, there is no cure, and no-one is immune,
We’ll all be back to join the drag… next week can’t come too soon.