The Fox/Tally Ho

One of my early favourites, this must have one of the oddest endings of any hunting song. I don’t have a lot of information on it at the moment, but Ewan MacColl recorded it, as did Martin Carthy.

 

On the first day of March in the year 93

The first recreation that was in this country

The King’s country Gentlemen o’er hills dales and rocks

They all set out most joyfully in search of the fox

 

Tally Ho, hounds away, Tally Ho, hounds away,

Tally Ho, hounds away me boys. Away hounds, away!

 

When Reynard was started he faced Tullamore,

Then Arklow and Wicklow along the sea shore

We kept his brush in view every step of the way

Until he made his course through the streets of Rossleigh

 

But Reynard, sly Reynard he hid from us that night

Ans we swore that we would wait for him until the daylight

And next morning early the hills did resound

With the sweet smell of horses, and the soft cry of hounds

 

When Reynard restarted he faced to the hollow

Where none but the footmen and hounds they could follow

The gentlemen cried, “Watch him, watch him, what shall we do?”

“If the rocks they don’t stop him he’ll cross Killdaloo.”

 

When Reynard was captured his wishes to fulfil

We called for ink and paper and a pen to write his will

And what he made mention of we thought it no prank

For he wrote us out a cheque on the national bank

 

To you Mister Casey, I leave my whole estate

And to you young O’Brian me money and my plate

And to you Sir Francis, me whip, spurs, and cap

For you jumped the walls and ditches, never looking for a gap