I drove out to the Radnor Hunt, in Malvern, Pa., one very cold Saturday morning, Jan. 15, to hilltop by car and take photographs. It had rained all day Friday, and I was afraid the meet would be cancelled if the ground froze overnight.

I’d been planning this weekend for a while, with the understanding there was always the conditional “weather permitting.” So when I called the kennel and found they were going out at 11 o’clock as planned, I couldn’t believe my good luck.

On this visit, I was going to photograph Mr. Christian Hueber, the new jt-MFH of Radnor. I’d seen a photo of him in the Chronicle a month or so earlier, and I thought he cut an extremely elegant figure in his impeccably tailored hunting coat. As an artist, I’m always looking for new subjects to paint, and Mr. Hueber’s photo was truly inspiring.

So I decided to call him and ask if I could come out to photograph him. During our conversation, I asked him if he only wore the coat for Opening Day. He
told me he wore the coat all the time and that his wife, Trish, wore hers too.

The coat is the historic brown coat of the recently disbanded neighboring Brandywine Hunt. Mr. Hueber had been a whipper-in there for 16 years. Trish had hunted with Brandywine for 45 years, the fieldmaster for 12 of those years. Mr. Hueber very graciously welcomed me to come out any time and suggested Saturday, the 15th, because hounds always left from kennels on Saturdays and I could easily follow by car.

I arrived with plenty of time to see them off, and Mr. Hueber was easy to spot–his brown coat the only one of its kind in a field of scarlet. I introduced myself, asked for a quick photo, then let him get on with the business of tacking up and heading off.

A Quick Tally-Ho

A few minutes later, hounds were let out of the kennel as the field assembled in front of the Radnor Hunt stable. Senior Jt.-MFH F. Hastings Griffin III greeted the small field (Sketch A), then with Jt.-MFH Michael Tillson and Mr. Hueber they headed off across the racecourse. Fieldmaster Lance Taylor
led the field of about 10 riders, with Fieldmaster Esther Gansky standing by to lead the second field.

There were at least half a dozen cars following on the roads, so I had no trouble staying with the hunt. Raphael Costa and Trish Hueber were in the red hound truck, which I decided would be the best vehicle to follow. Bill Shmickle was in charge of directing traffic, an essential task in that part of the country since the hunt frequently crosses the roads and someone has to direct vehicular traffic to protect hounds, horses and riders.

We stopped near a wooded area, called “Heartwood,” and, as hounds were drawing their first covert, Trish told me they usually viewed a fox there. The hounds quickly pushed out a couple of deer and then, not a minute later, a fox came running across the field, right in front of us! A wonderful red fox, he ran the length of the field, went under a post-and-rail fence into a cornfield, up a hill, then ran along the edge of a cornfield. He exited the cornfield by going under another fence, down the hill, and onto the road.

Of course, I was taking as many photos as I could! Usually when I view, I’m either out of film or something else prevents me from getting a picture, but not this time. He’d been fairly close to us, running parallel to the road. We were all very excited and Trish gave the tally-ho (Sketch B).

The masters soon joined us, but Hunts-man Mark Dixon and his hounds were out in the middle of the field and weren’t near the line. He circled the cornfield, but hounds still couldn’t pick up a line on this day of extremely poor scenting. Then a few hounds opened on the line where the fox had gone under the fence, but they lost it as soon as they got to the road, despite Mark’s encouragement (Sketch D).

They crossed over and went into a wooded, marshy area, where the footing was deep and muddy with a layer of ice on top. After 20 minutes or so, Mr. Griffin announced to us that they’d be going in early because of the poor scenting conditions and bad footing.

No sooner had he made his announcement then hounds opened on the other side of Goshen Rd., and off they went!

We didn’t see hounds again until we turned into a two-lane drive. To the left of the drive was a fenced paddock with three or four horses, and there were the hounds, obviously on the line, right in the middle of it! The fox must have gone through the paddock to throw them off his line. I’d never seen such a spectacle before–hounds trying to follow the line and the horses, in turn-out rugs, ears pinned, chasing the hounds all around the paddock.

Hounds finally gave up and crossed back over Goshen Rd., where they picked up the line once again in another paddock. I’d noticed as I drove past that field a few minutes earlier that there were two horses standing and looking with great interest at something off in the distance. That’s usually a sign of something going on (like a fox or hounds or riders going by). I couldn’t see any riders or hounds, so I thought it just might be the fox (Sketch E).

Hounds soon confirmed my suspicions! Once again, horses were running around the paddock as hounds tried vainly to stay on the line. They lost it on the driveway, near the house, so Mark checked (cover art) and was about to lift them to a spot farther down the road when a few hounds found again, and they took off.

Life Does Imitate Art

That’s when I lost the hound truck and decided to head back to the kennels. They’d been out for more than three hours, so I thought they’d head back soon. But that fox kept them out for another hour. What had started as a poor scenting day, turned out to be a fine day of sport after all.

Back at the kennels, the huntsman was attending to his hounds, feeding them and checking them for cuts and thorns and the like. Trish was kind enough to ask if I could watch them being fed, so I was allowed to see a part of kennel life that even most subscribers never see.

First the bitches (female hounds) were fed. Kibble, soaked in water, was poured in long, metal troughs in the middle of the floor. A door opened and hounds came streaming through like rushing water. They jockeyed for position and ate very quickly–less than five minutes to finish eating. With a word from Mark, they all exited just as quickly as they came in.

He filled the troughs again, and then the dogs (male hounds) were let in. They too, ate as quickly as possible. A few growls and squabbles broke out, but they were resolved very quickly by Mark or by the hounds themselves. A few dogs were led out before they’d finished eating, and I asked why? Mark replied simply, “Too fat.”

Mr. Griffin came in while the dog hounds were eating, to discuss the day’s hunting with his huntsman. This really was life imitating art! It was a scene straight out of Lionel Edwards’ “Sketches In Stable and Kennel”–a pencil sketch of two men talking while hounds are eating (Sketch F).

I thanked everyone for their warm hospitality and left. As I headed south on Providence Rd., I spotted “Charley” going across a field–a bright red fox with a magnificent brush. I’m sure this wasn’t the fox they’d been hunting, since he was coming from the opposite direction.

The sun was setting behind him and the grassy field shined green and gold in the fading light.

The fox too, was rimmed in golden sunshine. He hurried away as I stopped the car and fumbled for my camera on the front seat (Sketch G). In the distance was a small shed, and when the fox neared the corner, he began pouncing and leaping, playfully hunting some small prey.

He played for a few minutes, and then I could see him carrying the prize in his mouth. He turned, walked up the hill, gave one final look in my direction, and disappeared behind the hill.

What a perfect end to such a memorable day!