by Colin Burbidge

Whatever your views on hunting, in the 19th century it was an integral part of rural Devon life. It was enjoyed by gentry, clergy, farmers, labourers, and tourists. It also gave work to many in impoverished areas of the county. This is an account of one day’s hunt on the Upper Teign with the Cheriton Otter Hounds, on Wednesday 17th May 1893, as recorded in the “Western Times.” 

The rain on Monday and Tuesday night had considerably swelled the streams and given a deep tint of brown to the water. Wednesday’s meet was at Rushford Bridge with a good field. We went by the main stream to Chagford Bridge and after a climb we passed through Murchington and down to the Blackaton Brook. After drawing for a mile, we found no signs, so a return was made to the river. The Rev. A.G. Barker who presently resides at Gidleigh had an encouraging report of otters in his waters and more than this he had made preparations for the refreshment of the field, and a few minutes were spent in the consumption of cold viands and excellent liquors. Meantime the Master, Mr. Budgett found his hounds growing more interested and a challenge from an old hound proved an otter was not far ahead. Feathering through the shrubs that clothed the banks of the rocky stream, the pack pushed through the rustic bridge and up to the great boulders. At an old and very formidable clitter the hounds marked again, and the sharp yapping of the terriers apprised us of an otter within. A few minutes of suspense followed, then the gliding shape of an otter was seen in a small pool; and the hounds closed in and took to the water. On the larger boulders experienced watchers kept their eyes fixed on the current, and soon hallooes arose as the otter showed itself for a few seconds. The hounds clamoured, the horn rang out, and it made for a big boulder in mid-stream.

A good view as it came through shallow water showed an otter of about 16lbs weight and a lightish colour. The hounds barked but the otter was in a place of temporary security, and only the terriers could get anywhere near it. Some time passed but this otter could not be moved. Blowing the hounds away, Mr. Budgett left the hovel for a time to give the otter a chance of emerging. But even this plan failed, though when the hounds returned they showed plainly by their music that the otter had not left. Again, the terriers were tried and again the otter refused to budge. As we went down a forward watcher viewed a cub otter, from this we inferred we had been hunting the bitch. Where the dog otter had concealed himself was difficult to say. The charm of hunting in this wild valley, is always the mitigation of disappointment. There are few, if any, parts of the district hunted by Mr. Cheriton’s pack that can compare in natural beauty with these upper waters of the Teign.

 “clitter”: a large, fractured boulder.