"The Horn of the Hunter" is one of the oldest and most widely sung songs from the Lakeland area in England - a posthumous tribute to John Peel. The song appears in English Dance and Song, 31 (2), 1969, but I first heard it five years ago when Michael Cooney said, "I've got a song for·you," and did. The Watersons have recently recorded a variant of the American song "Old Shep" to the same tune. (ET) Ed Trickett: lead voice and guitar Gordon Bok: 6-string guitar & voice Ann Muir: voice
For forty long years have we known him,
Cumberland yeoman of old,
And twice forty years shall have perished
Ere the fame of his deeds shall grow cold.
No broadcloth of scarlet adorned him,
No buckskin as white as the snow.
Of plain Skiddaw grey was his garment,
And he wore it for work, not for show.
Now the horn of the hunter is silent;
On the banks of the Ellen no more,
No more will we hear its wild echo,
Clear sound o'er the dark Caldews roar.
When dark draws her mantle around us
And cold by the fire bids us steal,
Our children will say, "Father, tell us
Some tales of the famous John Peel."
And we'll tell them of Ranter and Royal,
Of Britain and Melody, too,
How they rattled a fox round the Carrock
And drove him from scent into view.
Now the horn ...
How often from Branthwait to Skiddaw,
Through Isel, Bewaldeth, Whitefield,
We galloped like madmen together
To follow the hounds of John Peel.
And though we may hunt with another
Till the hand of old age bids us yield,
We will think on that sportsman and brother,
And remember the hounds of John Peel.
Now the horn ...