Sir, - On Monday, January 3rd, I had the rare opportunity of being an unwilling spectator at a hunt. While driving on secondary roads near my home in Limerick, I was suddenly stopped in my tracks and ordered to go back, as there was no way through. The road behind me also became blocked and I had no option but to pull in and wait. I sat helplessly in my car, trapped on all sides, for at least half an hour, while an assortment of fat-arsed "aristocratic" riders ploughed their way through their badly parked vehicles.
Mud splashed onto my face and clothing through the open window of my car, as their horses cantered past. Excited voices of peasant supporters declared that there was "one hound on him" and "he's gone under the road", at which point all attention turned to the field on my left. I watched while the bloodthirsty hounds and their human counterparts closed in on the prey as it made its final dash for life.
Was the victim of this Bacchic frenzy something fierce and monstrous? Could it be possible that this large lynching party was concentrating its collective effort on killing a defenceless fox? My eyes filled with tears as I wondered if the hounding of a human being in other circumstances could be met with such glee. My heart pounded at the injustice and barbarity of this blood lust.
When I was finally allowed to drive on, I realised that it was irrelevant to these portly pillars of Irish society that perhaps some of the passengers ordered to "pull in" may have been in need of urgent medical attention or may have had deadlines to meet. I have always abhorred blood sports but never before has the injustice and arrogance of a situation moved me to write to you. If the tone of my letter seems querulous, it's because I write with a heavy heart. - Yours, etc.,
Anne Murray Browne, Russell Court, Ballykeeffe, Limerick.