> Steeleye Span > Songs > Tim Hart & Maddy Prior: Horn of the Hunter

Tim Hart & Maddy Prior: Horn of the Hunter

[Alan Bell (of the Taverners)]

Tim Hart and Maddy Prior recorded this song for their second duo album Folk Songs of Old England Vol. 2. The record's sleeve notes comment:

Also known as Old John Peel this is one of the most popular songs amongst the Cumberland huntsmen and was probably written before the better known songs about John Peel. This is a collation of two versions collected by Geoff Woods from Jim Hewittson of Egrement and Miley Wilson of Lamplaugh.

Dave Tomlinson and Richard Bell comment:

The song seems to be set around Keswick and Bassenthwaite lake because of the places mentioned: Skiddaw Fell, Keswick, Bewaldeth and the river Caldew can all be seen on my road atlas. But the old county of Cumberland - now named Cumbria - has many place names that do not appear on maps because of the wild and mountainous landscape. John Peel and his hunt travelled all over Cumberland and these place names are well known to the people of the area. John Peel was the greatest huntsman ever in England, he was Master of Foxhounds for over 40 years and was well loved by the people. There are more songs about him mainly Do Ye Ken John Peel.

Some locations are not so obvious:

  1. Brightenflat, locally known as just Brighten, is an area of wild moorland with no population.
  2. Denton Fell, locally know as just Denton, is another area of wild and hilly country.

See also the Mudcat Café thread about the origins of Do Ye Ken John Peel.

Lyrics

For forty long years have we known him,
A Cumberland yeoman of old,
And thrice forty years shall have perished,
Ere the fame of his deeds shall grow cold.
No broadcloth nor scarlet adorned him
Nor buckskin that rivals the snow.
But of plain Skiddaw grey was his garment,
And he wore it for work not for show.

Chorus (after each verse):
For the horn of the hunter 's now silent
On the banks of the Ellen no more,
Nor in Denton you'll hear its wild echo,
Clear sound o'er the dark Caldew's roar.

When darkness at night draws her mantle,
And the coal round the fire bids us still,
Our children will say, “Father tell us
Some tales of the famous John Peel.”
We'll tell them of Ranter and Royal,
Of Britain and Melody too,
How they put up our fox at Keswick
And chased him from scent to full view.

From Denton to Brighten to Skiddaw,
Through Isel, Bewaldeth, Whitefield,
We galloped like madmen together,
To follow the hounds of John Peel.
So long may we hunt with each other,
Till the hand of old age you can feel,
And men feel like sportsmen and brothers,
So remember the hounds of John Peel.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Dave Tomlinson and Richard Bell for their comments (which I edited together to a single paragraph)