Sarah has been peering down rabbit holes…
We all do it. Rabbit holes, I mean.
Start thinking about a new book, set out to research something and end up going down a rabbit hole. Then we get engrossed in something that has little or nothing to do with our story!
This is what has happened to me when I began work on my latest historical romance. It’s set around Exmoor in the 18th century.
And it involves hunting. Yes, really.
I have a heroine… And I have a hero
My heroine lives in north Devon with her father. She is a strong-minded young lady.
Think Kate Beckinsale…
But she’s not afraid to plunge in and fight her own fights…
So often she’s looking much more like an Amazon warrior. If you saw her in Van Helsing with Hugh Jackman then you will know what I mean!
My hero is a London beau, handsome and well liked. With a bit of a reputation as a rake.
Undeserved, though. True rakes may be charming but they are heartless. My man is definitely not heartless.
Think Henry Cavill, maybe, or a younger Hugh Jackman…
So far so good. I have visuals for my main characters, some idea of their houses and the location.
Now what about the hunting?
It’s not going to feature very much in my books. My hero – shock horror – doesn’t really enjoy the sport. Or rather he enjoys the hard riding and following the hounds, but he doesn’t like killing for sport. He is a sad disappointment to his father, but never fear, he will find favour with my heroine.
First of my rabbit holes
There is a wealth of material available, and much of it is about the Aclands.
This is Sir Thomas Acland, 7th Baronet (1723 – 1785) and owner of lands in Devon and Somerset.
In 1745 he married Elizabeth Dyke, daughter of another wealthy landowner from Somerset. Her father was a stag hunter and kept his own pack of hounds. That’s one of them in the picture.
He accepted his wife’s name, gained the manors of Holnicote, West Luccombe and Pixton as part of the marriage deal, and on his father-in-law’s death became Master of the North Devon Staghounds.
Staghounds on Exmoor
The earliest pack of hounds on Exmoor was recorded in 1598. The North Devon Staghounds were apparently very large, could easily cover large distances over the moors and worked well in water. Eventually these large hounds were succeeded by the Devon and Somerset Staghounds.
Wikipedia says the last 30 couples of North Devon Staghounds were sold to a baron in Germany, in case you want to fall down a rabbit hole of your own.
More rabbit holes
This is Sir Thomas Duke Acland, 9th Baronet (1752-1794). I could probably claim that this is relevant to my work in progress, as this Sir Thomas was alive at the time of my story.
He succeeded his seven-year-old nephew Sir John Dyke Acland, 8th Baronet as 9th Baronet on the latter’s death in April 1785.
Still with me?
According to tradition (as told by Anne Acland in “A Devon Family: The Story of the Aclands” pub 1981) he had become estranged from his father and had quarrelled with his elder brother Col. John Dyke Acland (1747–1778) and had consequently moved away from the family estates. It was during a chance visit to his old home that he learned of his succession to the baronetcy and the vast family estates
Wow. If only I’d known all this before I started my own fictional tale…
The research continued…
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In my quest for background material I was like Sherlock. Although I did not go near the rabbit hole that is the Baskervilles, or their hounds, so worry not.
The Normans created the Royal Forest of Exmoor and it used to cover a great deal more land than it does today. It was greatly reduced in size in the early fifteenth century, when large swathes were disafforested. But this didn’t really help anyone but the rich and powerful families who took over the land (like the Aclands).
This meant I was looking at lots of Devon history. Or lots of potential rabbits holes.
And finally…
In researching Okehampton’s Deer Park, I found the Legendary Dartmoor site. Now that is a whole rabbit warren in which to lose oneself!
Stag hunts with a difference
I read of stag hunts that didn’t actually involve any deer.
There was a tradition in many northern Dartmoor villages and towns, including Okehampton, of a display of “public censure” against various kinds of moral lapse.
It was usually carried out when neighbours believed that both partners of a marriage had transgressed.
The Okehampton “Stag Hunt”
According to T Brown in Folklore Vol 63 (1952), one such “stag hunt” was carried out in Okehampton in the 1870s. The occupants of a house in East Street were deemed to be behaving badly. A local gardener, Mr Steer, was appointed as the “stag” and dressed in a loose robe with deer antlers fastened to his head and his face was painted red and brown. He would also be carrying a bladder full of oxblood for “the kill”.
The men of the town, as hunter and hounds, chased the “stag” who led them around the various streets of the town. This was all watched by the crowd who had obviously been forewarned and had come to watch the fun. The hunt would eventually end at the house of the unfortunate couple, but the stag would prolong the event for as long as possible.
Occasionally he would hide in a garden, only to be chased out by local children, who would shout for the “hounds”. Finally, the stag would end up “at bay” against the victims’ door, where the kill would take place, with ox blood being spilled all over the doorstep. The stain would signal to the victims that they must behave or leave town.
And having had a great time, all the hunters, hounds, and spectators would go off to the local pubs to celebrate!
And this rabbit hole led to…
I am sure variations of these traditions exist elsewhere , but T Brown’s later work (Folklore Vol 90 No 1 1979) relates a darker variation. It was carried out on any man suspected of, er, “paying court” to a woman while her husband was at market.
In this case the culprit (victim?) would be chased until he collapsed of heart failure. Brown cites one instance where the chase began in the village of Shebbear and the quarry was followed through four parishes, ending on Sourton Moor, where the poor man died of exposure.
I am sure there are variations on this tradition throughout the land, but I have been down enough rabbit holes recently, I can do without any more!
Happy reading!
Sarah
Well, that’s interesting. I know about fox hunting but stag hunting is a whole different game. I’m relieved your hero doesn’t want to kill stags!
Those punitive traditions are typical of 18th century behaviour. I was shocked by what went on by way of public humiliations when I read Peregrine Pickle and others by Smollett. Funny apparently. How times change.
Back in the day, Liz, they hunted just about anything that moved, whether edible or not. Think of all the different types of hounds: stag hounds, yes, but also otter hounds, fox hounds, wolf hounds and so on. Hunting was both sport and exercise, of course. And the hunters seem to have enjoyed the violence and the killing in a way that makes modern folk a bit squeamish. But then, they were often off to war and killing humans, so why not practise on animals? At least, I suppose that was the rationale, in so far as there was a rationale. And it wasn’t only the rich that hunted. Hare coursing was, I believe, sport for the lower classes?
I suppose if one is pragmatic about it, it’s no worse than these horrible guys who go out to Aftica to shoot wildlife bred for the purpose. Plus ca change…
True, Liz. Depressing though.
Thanks Liz. Yes, people could be pretty cruel in the 18th century, although I avoid most of the dark stuff in my books…I prefer to concentrate on the romance!
Fascinating stuff!
Isn’t it just, Jan! That’s the problem with rabbit holes, and I fall down them regularly. Thanks for commenting!
Fascinating! So many lightbulbs ticking in my brain. My first thought on the trangressing couples was the skimmity ride in the Mayor of Casterbridge. (Well, yeah, it would be.) But how interesting. And now I have to go back to my WIP after a day skiving off at the British Library yesterday. Highly recommend the Medieval Women exhibition, though it’s in the last couple of weeks now. (Note to brain: no, you CANNOT write the historical crime series you’re itching to do. Not a single moment of research until your deadline is done.) xx
Thanks for stopping by, Kate – and I share your problem of having to keep the brain on track to finish the WIP before tackling anything else! Sadly I won’t be in London for a while, so won’t catch that exhibition. Or maybe that’s a good thing, given my propensity for rabbit holes!
Goodness, I’ve never heard of a man being hunted in person by other people before. Though I think Terry Prachett has at least the start of something similar in one of his Tiffany Acheing books. Gave me the creeps when I read it, even though it was thoroughly deserved. One of his few books I haven’t read twice.
It is creepy, Sophie, I quite agree. And considered a form of “sport”. Quite horrid. Hunting almost anything became quite the rage in 18th Century Britain and became an obsession by the 19th C. One landowner up here in the Highlands was an avid hunter of anything that moved on his estate, then wondered why there was a shortage of wildlife!