The SandanonaHarehounds

Beagling and Basseting in Millbrook

Edited by Gary L. Dycus

Foreword by Peter Winants

The Sandanona Harehounds

The Sandanona

Harehounds

Beagling and Basseting in Millbrook

Gary L. Dycus, Editor

Liberty Hall Publications, Inc.

2004

Liberty Hall Publications, Inc.

Hopewell Junction, New York

© Sandanona Harehounds, Inc.

Printed in the United States of America

Book Designers: Hiram Ash and Virginia Anstett

ISBN 0-9749534-0-7

Library of Congress Control Number: 2004091109

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v

Dedication

To Hiram Newton Ash (1934-2003) whose original

concept and patient guidance made this book possible

Photo courtesy of Jean Tate

vi

Right: Michael Lyne’s

sketches for his 1955 picture,

“The Sandanona Beagles”

The Chronicle (now The Chronicle of the Horse) used the frontispiece on the cover page of

its Friday, December 17, 1954, issue with the following information:

Mr. Michael Lyne, who has made several trips here from England to paint horses and

hounds, has included two beagle packs in his list of works, the Wolver Beagles, C. Oliver

Iselin Jr., Master, Middleburg, VA, in 1953 and the Sandanona Beagles, Millbrook, New York

in 1953.

Our cover page shows the Sandanona Beagles in full cry on a hare on their opening

meet at Thorndale, Millbrook, October 10, 1953. Morgan Wing Jr., master and huntsman,

is hunting the pack with Mrs. Wing, joint master and whipper-in, with her Norwich

terrier, Killy Lieu (old English hunting term on view of hare corresponding to tallyho for

fox), who regularly hunts with the pack. Next in line is whipper-in Miss Adele Leavitt.

The majority of the beagles are from individual portraits painted in the kennels by

Mr. Lyne. One of the more prominent is the tail hound, a bitch Vernon Somerset Barberry,

a gift from Edith Gambrill, widow of the late Richard V.N. Gambrill, master of the

Vernon Somerset Beagles. Barberry at the age of 8 won the 15-inch three-hour stake for

Sandanona at the National Beagle Club 1953 field trials.

Mr. Lyne, a beagler himself, and master of his own pack in England for some years,

was a very active member of the field on the day he made his drawings for this lovely

water color.

Beginning at least in the early 1950s, Michael Lyne and his wife Jessie made

several visits to the United States. They established the custom of first visiting Mr. and

Mrs. Frederic H. Bontecou of Millbrook, then traveling south to Maryland and Virginia.

Bontecou was master of the Millbrook Hunt at the time, and Lyne painted several

Millbrook Hunt pictures including portraits of Bontecou and Elias Chadwell, Millbrook’s

huntsman.

The idea for this book originated several years ago when Hiram Ash, a Sandanona

Harehounds subscriber, graphic designer and publisher, encouraged Betsy Park to write

an anecdotal memoir of her hare and fox hunting experiences. Time passed, and

before the project was realized, Sandanona marked its 50th hunting season, 1998-1999.

Several other subscribers of Sandanona then thought that it would be a good idea to

produce a commemorative pamphlet; here is the “pamphlet.”

Many present and former Sandanona subscribers and their families contributed

photographs, information, articles and anecdotes. While space does not permit listing

everyone who made this book possible, several particularly important contributors

deserve special recognition. Hiram Ash was instrumental in guiding the project from

the beginning. Jill Wing Heck provided access to Wing family pictures and artifacts and

permission to photograph the picture used as the frontispiece. Betsy Park contributed

her photograph and document files and her recollections, analysis, anecdotes and

articles. Peter B. Devers contributed access to his extensive photograph and document

files and wrote articles. Charlie Hoyt contributed excerpts from his hunting diary.

Dorothy Mayo researched and wrote about Sandanona’s results at the hound shows.

Ann LaFarge and Marsden Epworth provided editorial advice. Anne Frey coordinated

advance sales and gave editorial assistance. Eleanor Park Hartwell and Rosemary H.

Coates contributed maps and drawings. Peter Winants, former editor of The Chronicle

of the Horse and director emeritus of the National Sporting Library, Middleburg, VA,

provided encouragement and research assistance, as well as the foreword. The Chronicle

of the Horse lent photographs and kindly gave permission to reprint articles that tell

important parts of the Sandanona story. George T. Whalen III provided computer and

office support. Virginia Anstett provided design and coordinated printing.

To all of the many others who assisted in many ways, thank you for helping to

make this book possible.

Gary L. Dycus

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Acknowledgments

ix

Prologue

In the Spring of 2003, as this act of communal composition lurched toward a

conclusion, it has seemed as if this project has taken on a life of its own and now

resembles the longest hunt on record more than it does any kind of literary effort. At

“the meet” in 1998 (when this effort began), an order of draw was decided upon

by the principal players, a hunting pack (of potential contributors) was selected and

subsequently “lieued-in,” each one to seek archives, query friends and dredge memories

for appropriate material. Many of these “hounds” struck great “scent” lines and

departed in full cry for unknown destinations. The winds of many months carried their

voices back to the compilers of this history, announcing the contents of old fixture

cards, treasures found in stacks of letters, gold mines in Chronicle files; often we heard

the clear tones of original participants. Just when the scattered cry of this pack was

coalescing into a chorus, major interruptions occurred. A bizarre illness (leishmaniasis)

caused a yearlong “check,” but eventually an “all-around-your-hat” cast recovered

the line, and the pack settled in to finish the day. We experienced the literary equivalent

of a “sight chase,” and pressed on with growing confidence toward the final

accounting for the quarry. Victory…a publication date…was tangible. At this very

moment our pack began to “run short” and, unbelievably, our first whipper-in was

thrown out of the action, made a wrong turn and found himself carried far to

the East; eventually he reported in from Bangkok with the news that another “check”

of six months was inevitable. Absent this staff member, hounds’ heads came up.

They lost focus, rioted and disappeared into the many adjacent swamps. We were

tempted to call it a day, but all was not lost. Those of us who posted ourselves on

hilltops, listening for our vanished pack, eventually heard news. The voices of

Mr. Reynal’s hounds, the “Big Lot,” the “Little Lot,” the Poona, the Hamardale, the

Far Cry and the Flint Hill came to us from the past, and were added to the tale.

Eventually the silhouette of our missing staff member was viewed on the horizon,

hounds were collected and cast for the last time, the last check was “picked” and with

a final long (uphill!) drive our quarry was accounted for…the book was finished!

Whoo- WHOOP!

Though the result of this epic hunt is rather like Sandanona’s nickname –

Pandemonium – common threads carry us from the find to the end of the day. Kennels

and country, hounds and bloodlines, our four masters and long-serving staff

members, loyal subscribers and friendly landowners, have given Sandanona a seamless

continuity lasting 50 years and beyond.

Elizabeth B. Park

The late Alexander Mackay-Smith, whom I succeeded as editor of The Chronicle of the

Horse in 1974 and as director of the National Sporting Library 17 years later, had a favorite

remark about books he wrote: “I want to do such a good job that there’ll never be need

for anyone to write on this subject again.” This was true in Alex’s books on the American

foxhound, the art of Edward L. Troye, the quarter horse in colonial America and his fox-

hunting anthologies.

Were Alex with us today, I feel certain that he’d feel the same about The Sandanona

Harehounds, Beagling and Basseting in Millbrook. There’s no need to revisit. It’s all here –

sport, history, statistics, human interest. And I’m glad the text isn’t limited to Sandanona

per se, that the Millbrook Hunt, the proud history of the National Beagle Club and so

much more are included.

Of course, each of you will have segments of the text that are favorites. For me,

Peter Devers’ “Last Horn,” an incredibly moving description of the midnight funeral for

MorganWing Jr. at Aldie,VA, gets the blue ribbon hands down. It brought tears to my eyes.

Also, “Sandanona Tales” focuses on amusing incidents – particularly the tales of Batsford

and the Hong Kong Beaglers – that show the camaraderie and good times that exist in

foot hunting.

A personal note as to why writing this foreword means so much to me, and is such

an honor. My father died when I was 6. My mother married S. Bryce Wing, Morgan’s first

cousin, when I was in my early teens. Mention is made time and again in this book that

Morgan always encouraged the young and was a great ambassador for his sport. Bryce was

the same in foxhunting, steeplechasing and other areas. He lit a fire under me that has been

burning ever since. I might add that Morgan and I have sons named after Bryce Wing.

A final thought. When Gary Dycus first told me that a committee was in charge

of creating the Sandanona story, my reaction was, “Committees don’t write books. It’ll

never happen.” Wrong, Winants. This committee has produced a never-to-be-revisited

sporting book.

Peter Winants

Middleburg, VA

xi

Foreword

Dedication

Frontispiece

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Foreword

Chapter One

Millbrook

The Millbrook Country – Hunting in Millbrook – The Millbrook Hunt – Foot

Hounds in Millbrook – Packs of Hounds Hunting the Millbrook Country

Chapter Two

The Sandanona Beagles

The First Hunt, on Nantucket – Sandanona, the Name – Hunt Organization –

Huntsmen – Members of the Field – The Hunt Country – The Molnars –

Sandanona at the National Beagle Club Trials – An Infusion of Staff – The

Deer Problem – Oakleigh as Huntsman – Morgan’s Illness

Chapter Three

The Flint Hill Bassets

The Tewksbury Foot Bassets – A Move to Millbrook – The Flint Hill

Bassets – Kennels – Family Traditions – Competing at the National Beagle

Club – A Hound Trip Story – Merger With the Sandanona Beagles –

Some Memorable Flint Hill Hounds

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Contents

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Chapter Four

The Sandanona Harehounds

The Sandanona Beagles and the Flint Hill Bassets Hunt Together – Hare

Hunting in the Millbrook Country – Merger of the Sandanona Beagles and

the Flint Hill Bassets – Deer Proofing Sandanona – Training – Breeding –

Results – Joint Meets – The First All Pack Hare Stake – Saturday, March 29,

1975, Thorndale – Sunday Morning, March 30, 1975 – The Tewksbury Foot

Bassets, To Finish the Season, 1974-1975 – Evolution of The Hare Hunting

Festival – The 1990 Hare Hunting Festival – The Tewksbury Foot Bassets,

To Finish the Season, 1989-1990 – Aftermath, 1990 – The Festival Finals –

The Sandanona Today – The 2001-2002 Season – Some Memorable

Sandanona Hounds

Chapter Five

Morgan Wing, Jr.

Josiah H. Child’s Tribute to Morgan – Morgan Wing Jr., Esquire, Master

of Beagles (a Friend to the Basset Packs) – The Last Horn – A Marker for

Morgan’s Grave

Chapter Six

Sandanona Officials, Staff and Kennels

Masters – Hunt Committee Chairmen – Secretaries – Assistant Secretaries –

Treasurers – Hunt Committee Members – Field Master – Whippers-In –

Kennel Huntsmen – The Molnars – Fiftieth Season Hounds – Kennels –

Renovation of the Runs – Kennels Renovation – Hound Transportation

Chapter Seven

Sandanona Followers

Colors Awarded – Charlie Hoyt’s Hunting Diary – Opening Meet, Thorndale,

October 8, 1988 – The Meet – Hunting – The Annual Meeting

Chapter Eight

Sandanona and the National Beagle Club of America

The Home of Beagling – The “Aldie” Experience – Field Trials – Field Trial

Organization – Sandanona and Flint Hill Results at the National Beagle Club

Field Trials – The Morgan Wing Jr. Award – The Deer Problem at Aldie –

The Annual Masters of Beagles and Bassets Dinners – Sandanona Beagles,

Sandanona Harehounds and Flint Hill Bassets Awards at National Beagle

Club Trials

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91

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Chapter Nine

Sandanona Milestones--The Twenty-fifth and Fiftieth Seasons

The Twenty-fifth Season Opening Meet – The Fiftieth Season Activities –

The Fiftieth Season Opening Meet – Gathering of Past and Present Staff –

The Fiftieth Season Fixture Cards and Activities – The Twenty-fourth

Annual Hare Hunting Festival – The Fiftieth Season Celebration – The

Forty-sixth Annual Tewksbury Foot Bassets Joint Meet at Sandanona “To

Finish the Season”

Chapter Ten

Sandanona at the Hound Shows

The Bryn Mawr Hound Show – Sandanona’s Beagles at Bryn Mawr –

Wildman’s Tale – Betsy Park on Lodgings at the Bryn Mawr Hound Show –

Traveling With Hounds – Hound Show Trips and the Evolution of the Mill-

brook Hunt-Sandanona Dog and Pony Show – The 1980 Trip to Virginia –

The Longest, Continuous Serial Breakdown That Ever Happened –

Judging Hounds in England – Sandanona Beagles, Flint Hill Bassets and

Sandanona Harehounds Results at the Bryn Mawr Hound Show

Chapter Eleven

Sandanona Traditions

The Millbrook Hunt – Thorndale – Tea – Summer Hunting – Puppy Shows –

The Tewksbury Foot Bassets “To Finish the Season”

Chapter Twelve

Sandanona Tales

The Lost Film – A Run North – Batsford – The Visit – Bay State Clams –

Leavitt-ation – A Hare in Every Pot – Hong Kong Beaglers – The Census

Appendix I

Beagle Packs

Appendix II

Hares and Hare Hunting

On Hares and Hare Hunting – Hunting the Hare Is Much Harder Than

Hunting the Rabbit – Always Another Rabbit – How Hares Influenced Hound

Breeding – Hare Habitat Is Receding – Hares – Jack Rabbits – European

Hares – The Varying Hare or Snowshoe Rabbit – Rabbits – Cottontails –

Swamp Rabbits – Hare Facts – Brown Hare – Size – Appearance – Habitat –

Breeding – Food – Relationship with Man

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205

223

231

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Appendix III

Mr. Reynal’s Beagles

Appendix IV

Kent & Molly Leavitt’s Hounds

The Poona Bassets – Betsy Park Recalls Meeting the Leavitts – Kent Leavitt’s

Account of the Poona Bassets – Success at the Bryn Mawr Hound Show –

Changes – Betsy Park Recalls the Dachshund Pack – Betsy Park’s Account of

the Far Cry Beagles – A Far Cry Beagles Travel Story

Appendix V

The Hamardale Beagles

Appendix VI

Foot Hunting in Millbrook 1938-1943, Excerpts from The Millbrook

Round Table

Bibliography

Beagling Bibliography

Underwriters and Subscribers

Beagling Glossary

Footnotes

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The Sandanona Harehounds

The tradition of hare hunting in Millbrook goes back to the 1890s. Fox hunting came later, and

both fox hunting and hare hunting continue in Millbrook today. In the following

article, Peter B. Devers, a Millbrook resident, a historian and a longtime subscriber, staff

member and follower of Sandanona, tells of the combination of country and sporting

residents which has led to such a long tradition of hunting in Millbrook.

The Millbrook Country

Midway up the Hudson River Valley, on a plateau that rises quickly to a height of 800

feet or more, then 10 miles east dives into the borders of Connecticut, lies an area known

as the Millbrook Hunt country. Its boundaries are somewhat fluid, incorporating most of

Millbrook and the Town of Washington and also portions of the neighboring townships of

Stanford, Amenia, Pine Plains and Northeast. All these towns are connected by a trail sys-

tem hundreds of miles in scope, which was built and is maintained by the landowners and

subscribers of the Millbrook Hunt.

The area is one of unsurpassed beauty. This patchwork of fields and meadows, wood-

lands and marshes, hills and valleys is so lovely that around each bend there is a vista worth

painting. Many ancient homes, some dating to the early 18th century, are sprinkled here

and there, close to the old byways, or secret from them up long tree-lined drives. Views of

the Catskills appear where you least expect them, surprising you with their majesty. From

many points the jagged beauty of Stissing Mountain landmarks your location.

But Millbrook is also more. It is a state of mind, a magical spirit of pageantry, grace,

3

Chapter One

Millbrook

By Peter B. Devers

Hare drawing by Rosemary H.

Coates

friendship and ritual that hallmark a true community. A weekender from New York City

called Millbrook his Brigadoon. He didn’t have to wait every hundred years for it to mag-

ically appear; it appeared on Friday evenings, when his car turned off the Taconic Parkway

to the little village on the hill. A sense of community is created by the activities we share

with one another, and, in Millbrook, hounds and hunting have been at the core of our lives

for well over one hundred years.

Hunting in Millbrook

In the 18th and 19th centuries the Millbrook Hunt country was dotted with small

family farms, most raising dairy and beef cattle which were driven on foot, then later

shipped via train, to the hungry denizens of the city. Entertainments were few, but it seems

that most of the farmers kept a hunting dog or two for shooting game, and others, hounds

to go coon hunting with in the evenings after dinner. George Lester, in the late 1890s, was

known far and wide as having some of the best coonhounds and foxhounds in the state.

These were usually hunted in pairs, or with his friends’ hounds in a small pack, while the

huntsmen sat around a fire listening to their hounds’ music.

Formal hunting in the English manner didn’t get started in Millbrook until the end of

the th century. At that time the Industrial Revolution was well underway and America

was developing its first really wealthy class of people, folk who had the money, and above

all the free time, to indulge themselves in leisure pursuits. This era also saw a great expan-

sion in numbers of the middle class. Both looked to Britain as a role model, emulating the

lifestyles they saw there and determined as fashionable. Horses were still the primary

means of local transportation – everyone knew how to ride – and it was only natural that

as an outgrowth foxhunting was adopted by many. It was an elegant way of having fun.

The first pack of foxhounds to hunt the Millbrook countryside was Archibald Roger-

s’ Dutchess County Hounds in 1889. This pack was a mixture of American and English

blood. The dogs and bitches, drafts from the Meadowbrook Hunt of Long Island, the

Walcott Hunt of England, the Pembrokeshire Hunt of Wales and six American hounds

from Virginia, were kept on his estate, Crumwold, in Hyde Park. He hunted them up and

down the riverside farms for many years. Franklin Roosevelt was a keen follower in his

youth. The pack was brought to Millbrook for several hunts each year, with an enthusiastic

crowd of local citizens joining in the fun from meets at the Millbrook Inn.

The hunt went across the great estates that circled the village – Thorndale of the

Thornes, Altamont of the Lamonts, Sandanona of the Wings, Edgewood of the Flaglers,

Daheim of the Dieterichs – and when it left, people felt the loss. It seemed such a perfect

part of what country life should be that G. Howard Davison was prevailed upon to get up

a scratch pack of Millbrook’s own. His daughter Margaret (Mrs. Vansel Johnson) recalls

that the initial pack was made up of the Davison house dogs with a later supplement of

real English harriers from the Westchester County Hunt near White Plains. These hounds

were hunted haphazardly for a number of years, providing a lot of fun and amusement,

but little real hunting.

4

The Millbrook Hunt

Millbrook hungered for more. In 1907 a meeting was held at the home of Charles C.

Marshall where the formation of a real pack of hounds was discussed. Some people there,

such as Oakleigh Thorne (great-grandfather of Oakleigh B. Thorne, Sandanona joint

master), thought Millbrook might be too difficult a place to establish a proper hunting

country. Though at this time 90 percent of the land was open meadow and farmland,

seemingly good for hunting, the countryside was also one of sharp hills, high stone walls

and wire fences. Hunting countries, like those of Meadowbrook, Westchester, and the old

Dutchess County Hunt, were flat going. The Shires of England, familiar to many in Mill-

brook, were the same. However, goaded and spurred on by Middleton O’Malley Knott, an

Irish veterinarian and horseman recently moved to Millbrook, Marshall decided to have a

go at it.

Hounds were purchased by Knott from theWatchung Hunt in New Jersey, Knott’s old

stomping grounds, and Millbrook was off and running. After several years of hunting his

private pack, Marshall surrendered the horn to the converted Oakleigh Thorne in 1910.

Thorne’s love of the sport, mirrored by his daughter Margaret’s interest, was enough to

provide a catalyst to inject the hunt with stronger blood. His congenial relations with all

his neighbors, especially the yeoman farmers, and his readiness to spend liberally to develop

the countryside turned a rough and troublesome terrain into a magnificent foxhunting

gameboard almost overnight. In only a few short years Millbrook was to become one of

the best and most revered hunting countries in the New World.

It can be safely said that no hunting country in America has had as many first-rate

packs of hounds hunt the land as Millbrook. The Thorne family spared no expense in pan-

eling the countryside, purchasing the best harriers possible – for hare was the principal

quarry at the outset – and in hiring professional English staff.When the sport took off and

people, particularly his daughter Margaret, wanted a faster pack, the hounds were divided

into the Little Lot to hunt hare, and the Big Lot to hunt fox. Later, real foxhounds were

brought in, with Henry Higginson’s visiting Middlesex Hounds giving Millbrook six days

of hunting each week for many seasons. These provided such an exhilarating experience

that their reputation attracted to Millbrook new families of sportsmen – the Collins, Bon-

tecou, Grand, Place, and Crawford families, among others – many of whose descendents

still participate in hunting to this day.

Not only didMillbrook have its own pack, but it also had two significant visiting packs

which took up residence here for many years. The famed proponent of English foxhounds,

author of many books on foxhunting, and founder of the Masters of Foxhounds Associa-

tion of America, Alexander Henry Higginson, brought his renowned Middlesex Hounds,

here for the seasons 1913, 1914, 1915 and 1917. These were hunted on alternate days with the

harriers. He sold his hounds in 1919 but returned to the Millbrook as huntsman for fox in

1920, 1921, and 1922 when Thorne divided his pack into the Little Lot for hare and Big Lot

for fox. In the spring of 1923 Thorne sold off his own hounds. In their place the equally

great proponent of American foxhounds, Joseph B. Thomas, was invited to hunt the coun-

try-side from Verbank to Tower Hill. He spent five glorious seasons here. While in Mill-

brook he wrote much of the premier classic of American hunting literature, “Hounds and

5

Hunting Through The Ages.” Mr. Reynal’s Harriers, a private pack, hunted the Verbank

country from ’23 to ’34 after Thorne made the switch to fox. He was also regarded by many

houndmen as one of the greats.

In 1928, having seen how well Thomas’s American hounds tore up the countryside, the

hunt committee decided to reestablish a permanent pack in Millbrook with Virginia

hounds. Thus started the era of Elias Chadwell, one of the best huntsmen ever born.

Chadwell was tall, rail thin and of that quiet courtly Virginia demeanor that harked back

to the 18th century. He was the epitome of a huntsman and was well loved by hounds and

followers alike. Gordon Grand, a subscriber of the Millbrook Hunt who wrote lovely fox-

hunting tales, thinly disguised Chadwell as his fictitious huntsmanWill Madden. In a series

of five books published by the Derrydale Press, he captures beautifully the aura of the Mill-

brook hunting community in the thirties and forties. The story “Trying” depicts Chadwell’s

personality exquisitely.

Elias Chadwell passed the horn to his son Earl in 1950 who carried on the sport

gallantly and well for 27 years. He in turn passed it on to Betsy Park, the present huntsman,

in 1977. Woven in among the mounted hunting, however, was another sport with hounds –

beagling, the chase on foot after hares and rabbits.

Foot Hounds in Millbrook

The Millbrook countryside has seen several fine packs of foot hounds hunting the

land since 1910, when Eugene Reynal first brought his beagle pack up for a visit from its

home kennels near White Plains. Mr. Reynal’s Beagles was a private pack, but many in

Millbrook hunted with Reynal and enjoyed the sport the small hounds provided (see

Appendix III). After Reynal’s pack was disbanded in 1934, Millbrook saw a few years with-

out beagling until Morgan Wing Jr., a Millbrook native living on Long Island, brought the

Buckram Beagles of Glen Head, of which he was joint master, here for annual hunting

visits. Since Millbrook was one of the few places in America with a significant population

of brown hare, it was a desired visiting place for other foot packs as well. Mrs. DuPont’s

Foxcatcher Beagles, Richard Gambrill’s Vernon Somerset Beagles, David Sharp’s Treweryn

Beagles and others came here for hunting holidays. The Millbrook Round Table reported

on many of these visits over the years. (See Appendix VI.)

Finally, in 1948, Millbrook got a pack of its own again.MorganWing and Anne Vogels,

a whipper-in for the Waldingfield Beagles (as well as Mr. Almy’s Foxhounds and the Nan-

tucket Harriers), married and moved to Millbrook. With them they brought the nucleus

of a new beagle pack, named after the Wing estate – Sandanona. The hounds went from a

private pack to a subscription pack in 1953, and again the Thorne family came into the fun

with enthusiasm and unstinting support, greatly helping to make the Sandanona a success.

While the Sandanona became the primary foot pack in Millbrook, other packs of foot

hounds have also graced the stage. The Leavitt family was responsible for three of them:

the Poona Bassets, the Far Cry Beagles and a pack of dachshunds that lasted long enough

to be cursed, but not long enough to be named. In 1964 Betsy and Jamie Park moved here

from the Tewksbury Foot Bassets country of New Jersey and established their own lot of

hounds, the Flint Hill Bassets. For a short time there were four packs actively hunting the

6

Millbrook countryside. Couple that with the presence of the Mid Hudson Beagle Club, for

brace people in Lithgow, and you have quite a bit of houndwork going on in Millbrook.

Changing land use patterns from the start to the finish of the 20th century have

brought about a reduced population of the pack beagle’s chief quarry, the European brown

hare. In 1900, as has been noted, virtually 90 percent of Dutchess County was open farm-

land. The numerous dairy farms provided excellent foraging grounds for hare, first

imported to Millbrook by Charles Dieterich in the 1880s. In the early part of the century

the hare population exploded, so much so that the state offered bounties on hares due to

the damage they caused to orchards. In 1915 alone over 100,000 hare were killed in the

county.

Today, Dutchess County is approximately 60 percent woodland. The family dairy

farms are few and far between. The change of habitat has allowed the fox population to

grow in numbers, and even more so, has allowed the extension of the range of the eastern

coyote into our area over the past 20 years. This loss of habitat and food, the increase in

predators and the exponential increase in the numbers of deer have decimated the hare

population. In 1978 you could always count on finding hares on Thorndale. Now, sadly,

there are none.

A few brown hare are left, and these continue to provide good sport. Increasingly,

though, the foot pack has taken to hunting cottontail, where in times past this animal

would have been considered riot. Rabbits have proved to be more fun than most thought.

The Sandanona has provided great sport in Millbrook for more than a half century.

Its Sunday hunts, October throughMarch, are woven into the fabric of the community and

are part of what makes Millbrook such a lovely place to live.

7

Mr. Reynal’s Beagles, 1912,

l. to r.: Edward H. Carle,

whipper-in; Eugene S.

Reynal Jr., whipper-in;

Eugene S. Reynal, master

and huntsman; TomWaller,

second whipper-in and

kennel huntsman

Photographs courtesy of Peter

B. Devers

Packs of Hounds Hunting the Millbrook Country“…Mr. G. Howard Davison of the Altamont Stock Farm maintained a small private pack in the late

nineties which was used for a season or two for drag and hare hunting.”1

1890 1900 1910 1920 1930 1940 1950 1960 1970 1980 1990 2000

Beagles and BassetsSandanona Harehounds

1977- (hare until about 1998,

then also cottontails)

BeaglesMr. Reynal’s Beagles

1910-1934 (hare)

Sandanona Beagles

1948-1977 (hare)

Hamardale Beagles

1960-1973 (hare)

Far Cry Beagles

1968-1972 (hare & cottontails)

BassetsPoona Bassets

1954-1961 (hare & cottontails)

Flint Hill Bassets

1968-1977 (hare and cottontails)

DachshundsKent & Molly Leavitt’s

unnamed pack

1962-1965 (hare and cottontails)

Kerry BeaglesMillbrook Hunt

1907-1913 (hare)

HarriersMillbrook Hunt 1912-1923

Little Lot 1916-1923 (hare)

Big Lot 1916-1923 (fox)

Mr. Reynal’s Harriers

1924-19342 (hare)

FoxhoundsMiddlesex Foxhounds

1913-1915, 1917 (fox)

Mr. Thomas’s Hounds

1923-1927 (fox)

Millbrook Hunt

1907-12, 1924-present

(fox and coyote)

8

Right: Mr. Reynal’s Beagles,

Middleton O’Malley Knott

leading

Below: The Sandanona

Harehounds coming up

Pugsley Hill from the

Millbrook Equestrian Center,

October 1992

9

10

Above: l. to r. Oakleigh

Thorne, A. Henry Higginson,

C.F.P. McNeill and E.S.

Reynal at Millbrook, 1915

from “Try Back, A Huntsman’s

Reminiscences” by A. Henry

Higginson, MFH, 1931

Left: Detail from the cover of

Hounds, December 1984

11

Right: The Buckram Beagles

meet at Thorndale, October

1937, from rear to front,

l. to r., Henry B. Thompson Jr.,

MB; William L. Rochester,

E. Mortimer Ward Jr.,

Morgan Wing Jr., Norman

Duryea, huntsman; Anthony

Garvan, to the rear of Henry

Thompson, not in livery;

J. Woodeson “Woody” Glenn;

Lady Glenn

Below: Mr. Reynal’s Beagles,

Eugene S. Reynal, master,

in the center, at the Reynal

residence

The Sandanona Beagles was founded in 1948 by Anne and Morgan Wing Jr. after they

received beagles from six of the best-known beagle packs of the time as wedding presents.1

Morgan and Anne spent the summer of 1948 hunting hares with these hounds on

Nantucket, where Rebecca Lanier Trimpi, (later Mrs. David B. [Bun] Sharp), master of

the Nantucket Harriers, made kennel space available to them. In the fall of 1948 the

Wings moved to Millbrook, NY, and with the permission of the Millbrook Hunt, began

hunting hares.

The First Hunt, on Nantucket

The following article, reprinted with the permission of The Chronicle of the Horse, tells

of Sandanona’s founding and its very first hunt.

Sandanona Beagles on Nantucket,

The Morgan Wings’ Wedding Gift Pack Opens the Season at Altar Rock

In Preparation for Fall Season at Millbrook

The Sandanona Beagles, a new pack composed entirely of wedding presents to Anne

and Morgan Wing Jr., held their opening meet July 14th at Altar Rock, Nantucket Island.

Morgan’s marriage to Anne W. Vogels, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. David S. Vogels, on June 26

climaxed a real beagle romance, which started on an expedition to Nantucket this past New

Year’s when Josiah H. Child at the suggestion of his whip brought the Waldingfield Beagles

to hunt hare on Nantucket. Morgan was one of the 19 who made this memorable trip.2

13

Chapter Two

The Sandanona Beagles

By Gary L. Dycus, Peter B. Devers and Elizabeth B. Park

Hare drawing by Rosemary H.

Coates

Four couples were hunted by Morgan with Anne and me [Philip K. Crowe] whipping

to him. The field consisted of my daughter, Phillippa, and Irene and Sandy Mackay.

Phillippa’s progress was somewhat impeded by her beagle, Beauty, who came along on a

leash and took as much interest in hunting as Ferdinand did in a bull fighter.

Altar Rock is the highest point on the island and served years ago as the sacrificial

block of the now extinct Nantucket Indians. They could not have chosen a more beautiful

place. The moor falls away from the rock in rolling carpets of green gorse, spotted here

and there by wild roses and purple thistle. Three small lakes glisten in the hollows, and

a great variety of moor birds dart about the bushes. The sea and the bay are just visible on

two sides, and the sky meets the moor on the others.

From a hunting standpoint, it was not a successful day, hare being scarce and the

field picking flowers, but few packs could begin their hunting career in a lovelier setting. It

reminded me of some of the very early prints of beagling in Somerset, where the artists

caught the blues and yellows of the south country moors and almost forgot to include the

hounds and hunters.

The Sandanona stem from almost all the best known packs in the country. C. Oliver

Iselin Jr., master of the Wolver Beagles of Middleburg, VA, donated Baker and Ranger.

Josiah H. Child, master of the Waldingfield of South Westport, MA, gave Piper. Durable

and Durham came from John C. Baker Jr., master of the Buckram Beagles on Long Island.

Chetwood Smith, master of the renowned Sir Sister Beagles of Boston is sending two hounds,

names unknown. Mirthful and Mystery, two very fine looking bitches, were presented by

R.V.N. Gambrill, master of the excellent Vernon Somerset Beagles, Peapack, NJ, Tom

Grier, master of the Bethel Lake Beagles of Sewell, NJ, has another on the way, and Arthur

Armstrong and Andrew Ford of the Whitford Beagles out in Cleveland, OH, are also

sending a four-legged present.

Permission has been asked of Frederic Bontecou, master of the Millbrook Hunt, to

hunt the Sandanona during the fall and winter months at Millbrook, NY, over the southern

country of the fox hounds. The Wings have rented a house in Millbrook and plan to hunt

the European hare there from September to March. The Millbrook area, incidentally,

is one of the very few in the country where European hare are found. They were released

there years ago by a German businessman, C.F. Dieterich, who missed the fauna

of Bavaria.

The name Sandanona originated with Morgan Wing’s great grandfather, who built a

house by that name in Millbrook in 1810 [Sandanona was built in 1887, see below]. The

name lives today through the same house and the Sandanona Pheasantry which belongs to

Morgan’s father where I have had some excellent shooting.

The Wings have submitted colors to the National Beagle Club – yellow with grey

piping. This is particularly appropriate, as yellow is the basic color of the Waldingfield

Beagles, for which pack Anne whipped for three years, and grey is the color of the Buckram

Beagles, of which Morgan was joint master with John Baker for 10 years.

The Sandanona will enter a two- and four-couple pack in the National Beagle

Club Trials at Aldie, VA, this fall. It will be the 59th running of the National Trials, and

Morgan, as secretary of the National Beagle Club, will have a double interest in the

14

proceedings. He also expects to compete in the pack trials at Gladstone, NJ, which precede

the National Trials.

The Chronicle

By Philip K. Crowe

August 6, 1948

Sandanona, the Name

Sandanona was the name given by John D. Wing, great-grandfather of Morgan Wing

Jr., to the grand and famous house he built in Millbrook in 1887. In “A History of the Town

of Washington and Millbrook,” Carmine Di Arpino says that John D. Wing, a founder of

Wing and Evans, a chemical brokerage firm in New York City, “…bought the Nine Part-

ners School property in 1867 and developed it into a first-rate livestock farm and made the

old school into a house which he named Maple Shade. The schoolhouse was moved to a

hilltop about a mile away (now Linden Lane) to be expanded and modified until it became

the famed mansion Sandanona which he surrounded with terraced gardens.”

How the name Sandanona came to the attention of John D.Wing, and why it became

the name of his house are unknown. Local lore and Wing family tradition is that San-

danona is a Native American word meaning “place of the rising sun.” However, the word

Sandanona appears in “Indian Names in New York, with a Selection From Other States,

and Some Onondaga Names of Plants, Etc.” and in “Aboriginal Place Names of New York,”

both by William M. Beauchamp. Beauchamp states that San-da-no’-na means big moun-

tain, and cites several references including The Rev. Albert A. Cusick, an Onondaga inter-

preter, and Charles Fenno Hoffman.3

Sandanona is believed to have been designed by the prominent New York architect

James E.Ware, who also designed several other buildings in Millbrook including Daheim,

the estate of Charles Francis Dieterich, Altamont, the estate of the Lamont family and

Halcyon Hall, the resort hotel built in 1892, which later became Bennett College.Ware was

also the designer of a secondary residence on the Sandanona estate, Shadow Lodge, on

Nine Partners Lane, built by John D. Wing in 1888 for his son J. Morgan Wing. San-

danona’s grounds included terraced gardens, a carriage house and a gatehouse. The main

house was torn down and a new house was built on its site. The gatehouse (on Franklin

Avenue opposite the Thorne Building) and the carriage house (on Linden Lane) survive

as residences. The Sandanona name was also used by Morgan’s father for the 250-acre

shooting preserve he founded off the Sharon Turnpike, the first of its kind in America. The

shooting facility was willed to Morgan’s brother Henry, who ran it successfully for many

years. It is now known as Orvis Sandanona, and offers shooting instruction, sporting clays

and wing shooting.

Hunt Organization

The Sandanona was initially a private pack with Morgan as master and Anne as

honorary secretary and first whipper-in. The National Beagle Club recognized the San-

danona Beagles in 1948. Hounds were kenneled at the Wings’ residence on the Sandanona

estate near Millbrook. The Sandanona continued as a private pack until 1953, when, grow-

15

ing too large for the Wing property, it was reorganized as a subscription pack. A hunt

committee was formed to manage the treasury, but in all other matters Morgan still called

the shots.

Hounds were moved at that time to the old Millbrook Hunt kennels at Thorndale,

generously welcomed there by subscriber Oakleigh L. Thorne. The kennels were built in

1920 by his grandfather when it was decided to move the hunt operations from South Road

to the home estate. The dog house, as Oakleigh L. called it, was built of block and stucco, as

were the stables at the bottom of the hill. A few years before, a young arsonist had torched

some farm buildings, and it was thought concrete would prove more fire resistant. It did,

but had the misfortune to be considered damp and clammy. It was heartily disliked by

houndsman Joseph B. Thomas, the famous foxhunter and author, who spent a few seasons

there shortly after the kennels were constructed.

The use of the kennel huntsman’s house nearby was also contributed by Oakleigh L.

to the Sandanona cause. A kennel the size of Thorndale’s was too enticing to Morgan: all

those lodgings had to be filled, and soon were. The ever-increasing size of the pack

demanded the services of a kennel huntsman, and so John Anspach was inveigled to accept

the position. He arrived with family in 1955, staying on for seven years until the spring of

1962.The house was his rent free, along with a small stipend, in return for feeding and car-

ing for the pack. John is remembered as a warm and dedicated man who became an indis-

pensable part of the Sandanona family. With him Morgan got an extra bonus: John’s

daughter Marie was drafted for duty as whipper-in.

Thorne’s contribution of the kennels and cottage enabled the Sandanona to run

smoothly, and on a modest budget, given the size of the operation. Subscriptions were set

at a level just adequate to cover the costs of feed, utilities, veterinary bills, registrations,

transportation and the kennelman’s allowance. Both Morgan and Oakleigh L. wanted the

pack to be a true community one, with anyone having a hunting instinct welcome in the

field. The modest subscription fee made this possible. Even children with a small allowance

could afford to join on their own if they wished. To further encourage participants, for an

extra $5 – in the early ’70s raised to $10 – a subscriber could bring as many guests along

with him, as many times as he wished, to a Sunday afternoon meet. Many new subscribers

were attracted by this method. This tradition and philosophy has followed the history of

the Sandanona ever since.

Assisting Morgan in the field was a gallant group of whips who, like him, loved hounds

and hunting. Anne was a regular, of course, and her brother, David Vogels, helped out when-

ever he could. Oakleigh L., Arthur J. (Pete) Barry III, Marie Anspach and Ray Evangelista

formed the principal team early on. Adele Leavitt and E. Gordon MacKenzie also were in

service. Later they were joined by an enthusiastic Oakleigh B. Thorne, “Young Oak,” who

thought beagling was just the wildest and craziest sport ever. The Wing daughters, Jill and

Lucia, were promoted from puppy walkers to whippers-in when old enough. Farnham

Collins, later to become joint master of the Millbrook Hunt and chairman of the San-

danona Hunt Committee, also thoroughly enjoyed carrying a whip in the field and did

so for many years. Morgan got his greatest gift of whips ever in the 1964 season when

Betsy and Jamie Park and Bill Wetmore joined the team. All were fast, determined, dedi-

16

cated, and gave their all for the pack. Other whips falling in behind the Wing mastership

included Scott Wheaton, Peter Devers, Felicitas Thorne, Betsey Battistoni, Harry Ritchter

and Margot Richter.

Huntsmen

During the 25-year history of the Sandanona Beagles there were only two huntsmen,

and both, as Jorrocks said, were “desperation fond of ’untin.”

Morgan Wing Jr., the pack’s founder, was the first huntsman and carried the horn for

17 years. He loved fielding as large a pack as possible, for hare hunting requires hounds to

cover an exceptionally large area when drawing for quarry. He wasn’t too concerned about

matching hounds to the country being hunted: since it was mostly Thorndale, always the

same, everyone got to go. The sound of his hounds’ voices opening in unison on a line was

the finest music to him. “Don’t ya love it!” he would often exclaim as hounds tore off on a

hare. Morgan also attended to the pack’s breeding and took them to just about every field

trial he could. These he loved to win and might sulk for a minute when he didn’t, but his

happiness was soon restored when he realized tomorrow would bring another hunt. He

was a great showman, rallying the field with some welcoming remarks, and a big laugh,

before blowing his horn and setting forth. For many people, only Christmas surpassed

Morgan’s opening day in importance.

Keeping on terms with hounds when hunting hare can be a daunting experience. The

exercise requires strength and both physical and mental stamina. Above all, it is important

that a huntsman be with his hounds at a check lest they explode in too many directions

when casting. When Morgan found himself lagging in this regard, he asked one of his

whips to take over hunting the pack.

That whipper-in was Young Oak. Oakleigh B. Thorne grew up in Bedford, NY, but on

visits to Thorndale as a boy went out with the beagles and was hooked. The festival-like

atmosphere, the camaraderie of the beagling folk, and above all the physical challenge of

racing full out around Thorndale captivated him. He went out with the Sandanona at

every opportunity, and upon moving to the East Farm full time in 1961, every opportunity

was every Sunday. Morgan found in him an apt pupil who picked up the nuances of hunt-

ing and hound sense almost instinctively.

In 1962 Anne Wing’s interests were turning away from beagling to other sports. She is

a perfectionist, and when she felt she had reached her plateau in a sport, she went looking

for another challenge. Anne, now Mrs. Rodney Aller of Lakeville, CT, has at various times

whipped in to Mr. Almy’s Quonsett Foxhounds, the Waldingfield Beagles, the Nantucket

Harriers, the Sandanona Beagles and the Millbrook Hunt. Anne is also a champion inter-

national alpine ski racer, a dogsled racer, golfer and a recreational rollerblader (if an almost

daily run of 17 miles in one-and-one-half hours can be considered recreational). By the

early 1960s, beagling occupied less and less of her time and attention.

Morgan, desiring a co-supporter, asked Oakleigh to become joint master. In 1964 he

became huntsman as well and fielded the pack for years, both while Morgan lived and

for several years afterwards. The only place where he didn’t hunt hounds – while Morgan

was alive – was at the NBC field trials at Aldie. Rabbit hunting didn’t require the physical

17

prowess hare hunting did, so Morgan felt comfortable taking the horn again to hunt there.

Oakleigh didn’t get too heavily involved in breeding hounds, leaving that to the senior

master. Oakleigh enjoyed hunting hounds, and the beagles responded well to him. He did

not always follow Morgan’s directives, or the rules laid down by Peter Beckford, but instead

developed a few tricks of his own. An instance of such is to be found in Peter Devers’s

journal for 26 September 1976:

Met informally at the newly painted kennels at 1pm Oak, Scott & Midge, Farnie and

Mark, Mark Collins and Betsy Park were out. Drew left around Cardiac Hill and had a

short burst on [unknown quarry] to the barns. Up over the hill and through the draw into

the next field where two pheasant were flushed. A circle through the cornfields on the west

of Thorndale and back through the draw again. Just as we got through the gap, Scotty

tallyhoed a hare which hounds ran up over Cardiac along the fenceline & overshot her turn.

They poured into the hog yard and were chased out by the squealing brutes. Oak cast

this way and that to no avail. He then called it quits, saying that whenever he did so they’d

pick the check. It worked! Oak laughed in victory as puss was restarted at the base of

Cardiac Hill by the kennel drive.

Members of the Field

Morgan’s wish to have a friendly community hunt was realized, in no small part due

to his own charismatic and welcoming personality. He was a handsome man, a bit larger

than life, who almost seemed elemental in his joie de vivre with hounds and people. His

love of hunting was infectious. Many coming out for a lark, not realizing what beagling

was, fell under his spell and showed up Sunday after Sunday spoiling for a good run. Mor-

gan was especially adored by children. It was a regular sight to see him followed close on

the heel by five or six children as he hunted hounds, or later acted as field master. One

novice to beagling, seeing her offspring disappear with others behind Wing, wondered if

that were prudent. Ruth Bontecou responded, “Oh yes, he does give them back at the end

of the day.” Children recognized what Morgan’s adult friends did not: that Morgan was

essentially a 16-year-old boy, with all of youth’s dreams, hopes and excitement for life,

locked in an older man’s body. Many’s the parent who had to go out on a Sunday hunt

because his or her children were crazy to go with Mr. Wing and his beagles.

The beagles and bassets used to hunt hares and rabbits are slower than foxhounds and

are usually followed on foot, rather than on horseback. The elimination of the need for

riding skill and the expense of horses opens up the sport of hunting to a larger group of

participants and often permits a closer view of the hounds at work. Members of the San-

danona field came from everywhere, and chiefly they came in families. Beagling is a sport

that everyone, from babies in a backpack to octogenarians, can enjoy. Where so many

sports require special physical skills, maturity, etc., to participate in – beagling could be

carried on by each according to his own ability. It was the ideal family activity for a Sun-

day afternoon. Bontecous, Bucklins, Thornes, Hansens, Youngs, Hoyts, Busches, Deverses,

Collinses, Barrys, Greenes, Recknagels, O’Briens, Van Stirums and many more showed up

and remained loyal followers.

18

The Hunt Country

If a novice were to look at the fixture cards for the first 15 years of Sandanona’s history,

he would conclude that the hunt met at many different locales around Millbrook. On the

cards were listed entries for Thorndale, East Farm, the Stone House, the Kennels, and

Wilbur Hill Farm. The conclusion would be erroneous, however, as all were just different

spots on Thorndale itself.

Thorndale is one of the loveliest and most romantic country estates imaginable. The

Thorne family has been comfortably ensconced on the land since 1787, making it one of

the longest continuously tenured landholders in New York State. From its humble begin-

ning as a single-room log cabin, the homestead has grown into a most attractive mansion,

but one with great personality and warmth. In the gilded age of the late 1800s and early

1900s, the grounds around the house were groomed in the English manner: a reflecting

pond, walled gardens, topiary work, a tea house and splendid plantings of trees and flow-

ers came to grace the small valley in which the house was nestled.

Thorndale was then, as it is now, a working farm. Virtually all of its 632 acres were in

agriculture, with perhaps asmuch as 90 percent of it being open fields andmeadows. Behind

the main house rises Wilbur Hill (sometimes referred to as Cardiac Hill by panting whips

and followers) a tall, well-drained ground formed by the outwashings of the last glacier.

SurroundingWilbur Hill are undulating rises and dips of land, hedgerows, small woodlands,

boggy areas, trails and streams. This topography, coupled with the farming being carried on,

provided the hare with a lovely place to live and breed. It also provided a challenging and

interesting chessboard for the hunters and hounds who chased them about.

While three of the four meets a month were held somewhere on Thorndale, Morgan

also liked to hunt the old South Country around Verbank. This was the original home

ground of the Millbrook Hunt. Here, as a boy, he beagled with the famed foot pack of

Eugene Reynal that was kenneled for a quarter century on the top of Germond Hill. Hares

were plentiful in this area, and meets were scheduled at places like Victor McQuade’s house

on Welwyn Road, the Dyson farm and Benham’s Bos Haven farm. The countryside was

more fraught with danger, however, than at Thorndale: larger woodlands harbored deer

in greater numbers, and it was often more difficult to keep on terms with hounds when

hunting the fields and forests here. After too many stag hunts lasting late into evening’s

darkness the whips rebelled. Morgan was cajoled into abandoning hunting south of

Thorndale, and instead encouraged to look at the more open countryside to the north in

the environs of Rally Farms.

The Molnars

MorganWing often joked that he helped foment the Hungarian Revolution just so he

could get Bela and Ilona Molnar to leave their country for America. The situation, however,

was not quite so humorous initially. When the Anspachs informed him they would be

retiring from kennel work in early 1962, he was beside himself with worry over finding

replacements with their dedication and zeal. It seemed an almost impossible task.

Fortunately, however, the Anspachs came up with a perfect solution to the problem.

Catherine Anspach worked at the Wassaic Developmental Center and there had befriended

19

the Molnars. Bela and Ilona had come to America from Hungary in 1957. Both took jobs

at Wassaic caring for the patients. It was at the facility that Bela and Ilona first met early in

1957 and were married in December of the same year.

Catherine knew that as a hobby Bela had become associated with a psychiatrist living in

Connecticut who raised and showed German shepherds. Bela would often accompany him

to dog shows in the Northeast, showing some of the dogs at the less important venues and

helping the doctor’s professional kennelman with his duties at others. When the Anspachs

knew they were going to leave the Sandanona, Catherine suggested to Bela and Ilona that

they apply for the job. She invited them to dinner at the kennel huntsman’s cottage, gave

them a tour of the kennels, informed them of the workload, and gave themMorgan’s phone

number. Both Bela and Ilona were smitten with the happy-go-lucky beagles, and the stories

the Anspachs told of the hunting and hunting people, and so called Morgan. An interview

was arranged at which Bela appeared in a three-piece suit, impressing Morgan and Oakleigh

no end with such traditional Hungarian kennelman’s attire. After a checking with Bela’s ref-

erences, they were offered the job.With it came the house and a $100-a-month stipend.

Though they had no prior experience with hounds and kennel management, they

learned the ropes quickly from Morgan. He was often at the kennels doing one thing or

another and was patience exemplified in breaking them in to the Sandanona routines.

Morgan did virtually all the work with the breeding and raising of puppies, as well as the

veterinary work when needed, so some of the more difficult tasks didn’t fall to the Molnars

initially. As Morgan often found families to raise his puppies for him until they were four

or five months old, the Molnars were further relieved of a lot of work. The Molnars also

were not required to go out looking for lost hounds on Sunday evenings, as they had to be

at work early Monday. Morgan felt he should handle that duty himself. Oakleigh and the

other whippers-in would help him in this if it were a big disastrous loss.

One year when the Molnars went to Hungary for three months all the kennel work fell

onMorgan’s shoulders.He was also in charge of looking after their German shepherd – which

he feared he had lost when it disappeared for four days. Morgan was really at his wit’s end

on how to break the sad news to the Molnars when, looking up at the bathroom window,

he saw the shepherd looking back at him. He had accidentally locked the dog in the house,

and, being thirsty, it had run up to the bathroom for a drink of water from the toilet.

Bela and Ilona loved the hounds from the start, and life at Thorndale didn’t seem like

a job to them at all. Morgan was a good and enthusiastic teacher and they learned much

from him. Morgan also felt right at home with the Molnars, and often would stay for

dinner after checking on the hounds during the week, or after hunting on Sundays if there

was not a tea.

Morgan spent a lot of time at the kennels but never did much work on the facility

itself. Bela and Ilona would patch fences and fill holes, but it was just a waiting game until

new ones were torn or dug. Before the new runs were built, the yards were a mass of dead

trees, briars and overgrown bushes – a miniature jungle just for beagles. After the new

fencing was installed, Bela whacked away at the brush with a tractor and bush hog, grad-

ually getting it into good form. Paul Beck, the farm manager, was often irritated by this

because Bela bent and dulled a blade or two (or three) before the work was completed.

20

When the couple first moved to Thorndale, Bela did most of the feeding and kennel

keeping. Later, after Ilona retired fromWassaic, she took over the bulk of the duties as Bela

had embarked on a new career as an airline pilot and was away a lot. Early on, they had

gotten the work down to a routine they could complete in about an hour a day. This was

exceptionally efficient considering that at one time Morgan had as many as 110 beagles in

the kennel compound.

For the first 10 years Bela and Ilona went out only occasionally with the beagles on

hunting days. They liked beagling a lot, but their hours working for the state (Bela even-

tually left Wassaic and went to work as a guard at the state facility in Poughkeepsie) and

raising a family prevented them from going out frequently. Starting in 1972, however, they

had more free time and began beagling in earnest.

Bela’s first time at Aldie was in 1971 when he flew to the Leesburg airport with his son

Victor. Morgan and Col. Roger A. Young picked them up at the airport and chauffeured

them over to Aldie. He remembers Peter Devers making a surprise appearance there whip-

ping in to Mrs. Streeter’s Skycastle Bassets in his motorcycle leathers. She had yanked him

off his Kawasaki upon arrival as her staff had mysteriously vanished, and no one else was

available. Bela knew then that the Aldie experience would be something different fromMill-

brook for sure! Both he and Ilona have been to Aldie many times, enjoying it immensely.

Sandanona at the National Beagle Club Trials

In an article published in The Chronicle, December 3, 1948, about the National Trials,

June Badger wrote that the Sandanona Beagles “…has lately acquired the nickname of

Pandemonium, due to an unpremeditated three-hour deer hunt at the Gladstone Trials.”

Sandanona went on to win the 15-inch two-couples class and take second place in the four-

couples class at the National Beagle Club trials at Aldie, VA, November 10-14, 1948.

Morgan was an active participant and proponent of the sport of beagling, taking the

Sandanona to pack trials and hound shows in Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Jersey and

Pennsylvania as well as at the National Beagle Club (NBC) where he had been secretary

since 1946. He also occasionally entered some of his slower and more diligent hounds in

area brace trials. As secretary of the NBC, Morgan usually wrote a foreword to The Chron-

icle’s annual beagle issue each December, summarizing the state of beagling and the NBC.

Morgan was also the author of a chapter in “The Complete Beagle” about the customs,

organization and conduct of beagling (See Appendix I). In its 1952-1953 edition, Bailey’s

Hunting Directory included for the first time the roster of American beagle packs ( packs

of beagles, one pack of bassets and one pack of harriers), and Morgan, as secretary of the

NBC, wrote a foreword for the American beagle section of the directory.

An Infusion of Staff

In 1964, Morgan was very happy to see Jamie and Betsy Park and Bill and Margaret

Wetmore arrive in Millbrook. Bill had run track in college, and Jamie and Betsy were both

good runners. All three had “hound sense,” and suddenly Morgan and the Sandanona Bea-

gles were gifted with three whippers-in who might actually be able to do something about

the “Pandemonium.”

21

Jamie and Betsy clearly remember their first opening meet at Thorndale. It was the

1964-65 season, and Morgan had entrusted the hunting of the pack to his joint master,

Oakleigh Thorne, for the first time. According to Betsy, “Oakleigh loved to hunt the

hounds, and they liked him and hunted well for him. Morgan was shouting directions.

Oakleigh went totally deaf, and everything worked out very well. Morgan didn’t mind!”

Betsy remembers, “hearing [Morgan’s] great laugh booming across the countryside, a

happy man doing his favorite thing. Staff and field had to get back to the annual meeting,

as a big tea was laid on at Thorndale. But no sooner were hounds stopped and packed up

than another hare would jump up under their feet. Finally, in frustration, Oakleigh flung

his horn at one of these hares and lost it in the thick grass. That horn is still down by the

big sycamore tree in the back field on the east side of the kennels!”

The Deer Problem

It was terrible at that time: they all ran deer. To stop hounds the whippers-in had to

overtake and physically apprehend them, as the hounds would otherwise ignore them.

Staff took to the field with pockets full of little metal couplings, bootlaces and pieces of

twine so that they could lash the hounds together, and, when they finally caught them, drag

them home. On a long deer run – and plenty of these were very long – Betsy’s bassets usu-

ally fell in behind her. When she managed to run down and catch the beagles they were

anchored on couples to a basset, which made the homeward trip easier.

Earl Chadwell, huntsman for theMillbrook Hunt from 1950 to 1977 and still wheel whip,

speaks about the beginning of the deer problem. He says the deer started coming back just

after the war, and, when they found one with the foxhounds, they often caught him, but

sometimes it took 10 miles. Now there are so many deer that they don’t go far, opting for

little circles, and it is easier to expose hounds to deer in order to school and discipline them.

Staff spent an inordinate amount of time in the 1960s and the 1970s coping with the deer

problem.Many deer-hunting hounds (foxhounds, beagles and bassets) were lost on the road.

Bassets are hard to see, especially at night crossing highways, and they were often killed.

Before his illness Morgan frequently drove to Aldie alone, and there he was often beset

by catastrophe: his hounds ran deer; they found holes in the fence; they disappeared. On

one occasion the NBC was trying to raise money to fence the farm’s outside perimeter so

that people wouldn’t continually lose hounds. (It was not just a Sandanona problem!) This

effort was successful largely because Morgan was out there in the woods all night picking

up beagles, then returning and making a report. After a number of trials without Morgan,

all the rest of Sandanona’s staff became very well acquainted with the back roads of the

surrounding countryside! When Rick Nunez and Betsy Park took the beagles to Aldie after

Morgan’s death, Betsy recalls that she not only ran through a lot of unfamiliar country, but

that she, too, ended up driving those wild back roads at night. On one occasion at the

trials, the last hound out from the previous day’s riot arrived back at the farm barely

minutes before it was needed to run in the eight-couple entry. Betsy was very sympathetic

with what Morgan had gone through, but the following incident solidified her resolve to

deer proof the hounds.

In the mid 1970s (before the reorganization caused by Morgan’s death, and while Oak-

22

leigh was still hunting the hounds) Betsy was pleased to be invited to judge the NBC fall

beagle trials at Aldie. Her co-judge was fellow foxhunter and ex-MFH Henry Woolman.

The judges met Oakleigh and the Sandanona eight-couples at the Tenant Farm and

instructed him to draw uphill. About 45 seconds later the hounds jumped a deer, and

departed with a roar from all 16 beagle throats. Oakleigh and Betsy, as well as the rest of

the Sandanona staff, had been working very hard with the beagles to change their riotous

behavior, because they weren’t called the Pandemonium for nothing. All through San-

danona’s history, if hounds didn’t run deer at these trials, they would usually account for

their rabbit and often win. It was therefore particularly annoying and embarrassing to

Betsy to see Sandanona’s hounds do this. For 20 minutes, judges and Sandanona staff tried

to cut them off, crossing the rides, the judges riding over them with their horses (judges at

NBC trials are mounted, to provide them with the best possible view of the hunting),

cracking whips at them and cursing them – by name. The hounds totally ignored every-

one. Finally, an armed person with the Ardrossan Beagles peppered them on the butt with

harmless but stinging bird shot, and they reluctantly stopped.

Oakleigh gathered them together, all hounds “on,” having run the deer beautifully, and

re-presented them to the judges (Henry and Betsy). Hounds then proceeded to hunt a

rabbit with an equal degree of zeal. Unfortunately Oakleigh had one old hound, breathless

and exhausted from her deer hunt, who was way behind. The judges placed Sandanona

second in the eight-couple trial because of this. Otherwise Sandanona might have won it.

(This was in the days before running deer meant certain disqualification.)

This incident added fuel to Betsy’s determination to fix the deer problem, which Mor-

gan would never do. He preferred to have hounds as enthusiastic about all their hunting

as they were. His idea of deer proofing the pack was to send a cadre of wives, children and

weekend house guests through the coverts on Thorndale banging garbage can lids to send

the deer out before the beagles arrived.

In 1964 there were no deer on Thorndale; the present resident herd of hundreds did

not yet exist. However, there were deer in other places, specifically in Verbank, where San-

danona often met. After the find, hounds often ran a mile or so to the first check, leaving

staff members struggling behind. As hounds cast themselves, a deer would frequently get

up, hounds would change before staff got there, and the hunt would finish at the Greer

School, or the Dutchess Day School, or even way down in the Clove Valley. Eventually all

would limp home in the dark, with the hounds tied up in strings and couples (if they were

caught). Sometimes staff didn’t manage to catch them. Morgan’s enthusiasm was bound-

less – even repeated stag hunts could not dampen his spirits for long. Finally his staff

agreed to tell their fearless leader that if he planned any more Verbank meets (at Charlie

Dyson’s, for instance, which was the worst) they were just not going to show up.

Sandanona was not alone. All the packs of hounds in the country – foxhounds, bea-

gles and bassets – had to deal with this problem as the deer population exploded. It became

obvious that hounds with certain bloodlines were more intransigent than others, just as

some individuals were more biddable. “We reluctantly concluded that we had to draft

those hounds out of our packs, in order to survive,” Betsy reported. “Ben Hardaway, MFH

and huntsman of the Midland Fox Hounds, led the way. He had pure July hounds in his

23

pack in the 1950s, and said many times that if the deer had never returned to Georgia, he

would still have July hounds, but he could not break them. Unfortunately, Morgan’s San-

danona were much the same. The heartbreak and frustration of having hounds that will

persist with hunting deer are insupportable for those of us who spend so much time

trying to do this right. Ben took the lead and the rest of us followed his example as best

we could.”

Oakleigh as Huntsman

Betsy remembers Oakleigh as a very unselfconscious, good and sporting huntsman.

He often hunted hounds with a conch shell, especially in the cold of winter when the

mouthpiece of a metal horn can stick unpleasantly to the lip, and he was filled with enthu-

siasm. Morgan, especially in the early days, often shouted directions at Oakleigh from the

rear; Oakleigh ignored them and did whatever he pleased! In the ’s there were so many

hares on Thorndale that it was hardly possible to make a mistake; boom! Tallyho! Off

hounds would go on a sight chase. Oakleigh was as excited as the hounds, and tore around,

blowing the horn and cheering them on.

Morgan would roll his eyes and lecture about steadiness and taking hounds on to the

line quietly in the correct way, etc. etc. Usually by the time Morgan was able to express all

this, Oakleigh was gone. Oakleigh, an excellent runner, was almost always with his hounds

and had an intuitive grasp of the unfolding run. He also abhorred a day in which nothing

happened. (Like Jimmy Jones, telling us to spread out and have a little evening hunt. See

chapter three) We all learned to be especially alert if we had been out for several hours

blank, with no hare found. Oakleigh would inch closer and closer and closer to the woods

in which cloven-footed doom awaited. Hounds on more than one occasion drifted into

covert and immediately jumped one deer or several, condemning the hunt staff to a mid-

night march up Canoe Hill, or other even worse places.

We all had to get up and be productive on Monday morning, so we became adept at

heading beagles out of the woods when Oakleigh was drawing in that direction, andmaybe

even suggesting to him that it was time to give up and go home before we ended up cross-

ing Wappinger’s Creek or the Taconic Parkway, running a “Bambi.”

Morgan’s Illness

In the early 1970s Morgan fell ill with liver cancer. He made a long and valiant struggle

against this debilitating disease. Betsy recalls that “Time and time again, he rose up out of

his sickbed or staggered out of the hospital and made the trip to Aldie, driven by one of us –

sometimes Jamie, sometimes me, sometimes Oakleigh, sometimes all of the above – to

watch his beloved hounds compete. Morgan got strength just from being at Aldie, his

favorite place on earth. He adored going, and he went when he was barely able. He went

by himself. He went if people went with him. He took his hounds, no matter what.”

Morgan’s illness was stressful for the Sandanona staff and caused concern about the

future of the pack. There were many hounds in kennels, and only Morgan was really sure

who they all were. Betsy and Morgan worked months to write out pedigrees and tattoo

hounds, but when Morgan died they still had not completely identified all hounds.

24

While Morgan was alive, Oakleigh’s chief duty was as huntsman, with Morgan orches-

trating breeding, kennel management and field trials behind the scenes. After several sea-

sons without Morgan, Oakleigh realized that trying to field a pack of hounds on a regular

basis involved a lot more than just hunting them. Together, Betsy and Oakleigh devised

what has been a satisfactory solution – a merger of the Sandanona Beagles and the Flint

Hill Bassets.

25

Right: Anne and Morgan

Wing Jr., June 26, 1948,

New Bedford, MA Standard-

Times staff photo

Below: Sandanona Beagles

button, drawing by Eleanor

Park Hartwell

Right: Anne Wing, 1959,

courtesy of New York Times

Pictures

26

Below: Sandanona as it

appeared ca. 1900, photo

courtesy of the Dutchess

County Historical Society

Right: Morgan and Anne

Wing, ca. 1950

27

Below: Meet of Sandanona

Beagles on the estate of Mr.

and Mrs. H.C. Seherr-Thoss,

Litchfield, CT, l to r, F.E.

Haight II, Mrs. H.C. Seherr-

Thoss, and Mr. and Mrs.

Morgan Wing Jr., 1954,

Hanway photo courtesy of

The Chronicle of the Horse

28

Opposite: Morgan Wing Jr., 1960, Reynolds photo courtesy of

The Chronicle of the Horse

Above: Bela Molnar showing “Shookey,” Sandanona’s Saddlerock

Shookup, winner of the Best In Group, Mid Hudson Kennel

Club Show, April 19, 1964, Michael Loconte photo courtesy of

Bela and Ilona Molnar

Left: Morgan Wing Jr., 1969

29

31

32

Right: The Sandanona pack

has just jumped a rabbit in

the brush to the left of the

huntsman – Morgan Wing Jr.,

National Beagle Club

Trials, 1971, photo courtesy

of Lucia Wing

From the growing end of a life filled with four leggeds, it may seem inevitable that I would

hunt several packs of hounds simultaneously for several decades. From the childhood end,

however, such an outcome was unimaginable, especially from my parents’ perspective.

The Tewksbury Foot Bassets

As a teenager I always needed money and turned to baby-sitting as a source of same.

I often worked for Jack and Cornelia Eyre, who were neighbors on the Bernardsville

Mountain. As fate would have it, Jack was then the field master for the Tewksbury Foot

Bassets, and his house was filled with hunting books. When the Eyres returned home they

usually found me asleep on the couch, underneath a copy of “Hounds and Hunting

Through The Ages” or similar tome. Jack suggested that I might enjoy the bassets, hinted

that they were always looking for young runners to whip-in, and volunteered to transport

me to and from the meets. The bassets hunted European hares in the country of the Essex

Fox Hounds every Sunday afternoon, and they welcomed and encouraged me in every

possible way. They had some wonderful whippers-in at the time (notably the redoubtable

Margaret Wemple, who also foxhunted and taught me by example) but packs of hare-

hounds can never have too many able staff members.

I soon discovered that I had the gift of distance running. I was asked to whip-in, and

my increasing stamina as a runner enabled me to provide real assistance to the pack. One

anecdote will serve as an example of the hunting education I was receiving. The Tewksbury

had a dog hound by the name of Bushrod, a tall, rough-coated character with a very

33

Chapter Three

The Flint Hill Bassets

By Elizabeth B. Park

Hare drawing by Rosemary H.

Coates

distinctive voice. After a dissolute youth during which he ran everything with abandon, he

had a spiritual revelation, and in his later years swore off deer, foxes and even the cotton-

tail, hunting only the European hare. The bassets were in the midst of a long and difficult

run from a meet at the Pidcock farm, and I found myself quite alone with hounds in the

middle of a wood which was strange to me. The pack split, and I was temporarily at a loss

as to what to do. I quickly realized that the group closest to me did not contain Bushrod;

listening, I heard his voice receding in the distance with the other group. Certain that he at

least was correct, I stopped my lot and sent them back to his, thereby avoiding a probable

deer hunt and subsequent disaster. From this point on the hounds became an obsession,

and I was motivated to work on my running skills so that I could stay with them and watch

what they did. Through the bassets I discovered the hound part of hunting, which had

been previously obscured by my horse fixation.

No account of my early days with the Tewksbury would be complete without mention

of their founder (with Haliburton Fales II), Joint Master and Huntsman James S. Jones.

Jimmy was an original and outrageous character, seemingly transported to the hills of

Somerset County from some other century. To do him justice would take another entire

book. In the ’50s the Tewksbury was defined by Jimmy as master and huntsman, and his

goal was always to show sport of the very highest order. Suffering fools gladly was not part

of his persona; he refused to suffer them at all! An aspiring whipper-in always risked falling

into the fool’s category and receiving a public tongue-lashing, and this was to be avoided

at all costs. Jimmy was impatient, expected superhuman feats of all the people that he dealt

with and let them know that in no uncertain terms. I quickly learned how the job should

be done: to anticipate trouble while roading hounds, to anticipate potential trouble when

drawing in order to stop hounds off any conceivable riot, to hustle to get to roads in

advance of a hard-running pack, to be alert for cottontails running through the hedgerows

or distracting hounds at a check. When Jimmy’s hounds were running a hare there was

nothing on the planet more important. Woe betide the unfortunate whipper-in who

stopped hounds without an excellent reason. (A major highway at dusk was not an accept-

able reason: one was expected to stop the cars, not the hounds.)

If Jimmy was outdistanced at a check, one had to know where the check occurred,

which hound was the last one to own the line, where they had cast themselves and be able

to communicate all those observations, succinctly, preferably before being asked. The

Third Circle of the Inferno was reserved for the hapless whip who failed to anticipate a flash

back onto the heel line by hounds being taken to a view. One had to know at all times during

the course of a day’s hunting how many hounds were out, how many were on, who any

stragglers were, and where they could have got to. I learned by observation, by frequently

falling short and eventually by succeeding. Jimmy was a stickler for the correct way to do

everything, from the arrival of the hounds at the meet well before the appointed hour, to

the proper accounting and loading up at night. I learned the art of producing a mannerly

pack of hounds, properly turned out in a timely way, while I was still a teenager. Little did

I realize what importance this would have in my future. Whipping-in for Jimmy was an

exercise in character building, an education, and a marathon – and above all, with the

hounds we had, tremendous fun.

34

One of the memories of my childhood that has endured to this day is losing a hare

as the sun was setting, many miles from home; we would all be leg weary, chilled and

exhausted. Jimmy would collect hounds and start back for the meet, but if we came to a

nice sort of a place as the moon was rising, he would say, “Well, let’s spread out (in order

to put a hare up), let’s spread out and we’ll have a little evening hunt.” Well, “a little

evening hunt” has passed into the lexicon. The scent does get better at night. The only

trouble with “a little evening hunt”was that all of us, including the hounds, were normally

done in by that time.

In 1957 Jimmy made me the astonishing offer of going halves with me on my first

green coat. The first couple of seasons I wore an old coat of Betty’s (Mrs. Jones) that I

remember fondly because it was really warm, and it fit me very well. But Betty did occa-

sionally need her coat, and this was not a permanent thing. Jimmy decreed that I should

have a coat of my own, and he sent me to Kauffman’s in New York to be measured for one.

The coat cost the astonishing, staggering sum of $80, of which I was responsible for half.

It was a type of lightweight whipcord, very tough, and I wore it for many, many years, first

with the Tewksbury Foot Bassets’ robin’s egg blue collar and later with Sandanona’s yellow

collar with grey trim and even after that with my very own Flint Hill Bassets’ colors, which

were darker blue with grey piping. It was a wonderful coat. It fit me beautifully, and I

remember to this day that Jimmy insisted on double vents. He said that they looked much

better than the single vented ones, and I now realize that this is absolutely the case, espe-

cially from the back.

A Move to Millbrook

Not long after our marriage in 1963 Jamie and I moved to Millbrook, where he had

been offered a job at the Millbrook School. Millbrook, in many ways, was an extension of

the community we knew in New Jersey. There was a famous pack of American foxhounds

there, whose huntsman, Earl Chadwell, was a cousin of the Essex huntsman, Buster Chad-

well. Jack Eyre, for whose family I baby-sat, was a graduate of the Millbrook School and

told us stories about playing baseball when in Millbrook in something called the Twilight

League. One of the teams they played was composed entirely of Chadwells, Earl’s father

Elias and nine Chadwell children. (We found the league still going when we arrived on

campus.) In addition, there was also a pack of hounds hunting hares in the Millbrook

countryside, although as I recall Jimmy never took beagles very seriously. “They sound like

mice talking,” he said, on more than one occasion!

The Flint Hill Bassets

In 1960, I raised a litter of puppies for the Tewksbury Foot Bassets that included my

dog Quest. He was a wonderful hound, the best in his litter, as the others were never as suc-

cessful. In fact, it was their failure as an entry of hunting hounds that sent Jimmy and Joe

Wiley to England in 1963 to look for fresh blood. It was at that time that we all began to

realize that the American Kennel Club (AKC) was doing us no good in terms of breeding

hunting hounds, that AKC hounds were becoming less and less likely to hunt at all, and

that we needed to refresh our hunting stock with new blood from somewhere else. This

35

effort continues to this day. This decision eventually affected the breeding of most of the

basset packs in America. When those English hounds were bred to the better-hunting

AKC-type hounds, the result was the English Basset. Most of these hounds have a beagle

or harrier outcross in their ancestry, often seven or eight generations back.

Eventually Jimmy bred TFB Manager, a brilliant but “orthodox” AKC dog hound, to a

bitch named Remedy, imported from the English basset pack, the Westerby. Remedy was

exceptionally plain, looking rather like a beagle, but she was a superb harehound and one of

the best hounds of any kind that I’ve hunted behind. Her descendents have carried on her

incredibly talented ways. Remedy produced four puppies, one of which, called Relish, we

kept. She was too short-legged and classic looking for the Tewksbury, but she wasn’t slow at

all. They were trying to breed a “level” pack from their outcross strains, hounds that would

all run together, and they were suddenly much taller, and very much quicker than they had

been before. Jimmy turned out on a horse for a while as the whole thing accelerated in speed,

but I didn’t wish to do that; I was hunting alone, on foot. Relish was the perfect size for me,

and was bred to Quest (see below) on several occasions, producing precocious youngsters

who were great hunters and filled with personality. By 1966 or 1967 we had two and one-half

couples of bassets, and I embarked in the smallest possible way on my huntsman’s career

with my own Flint Hill Bassets.

In 1965 I raised another litter of puppies for the Tewksbury, eight lemon-and-white

hounds out of a bitch named Calico. They grew up on Flint Hill, and when summer came

I was pack breaking them. One day I was walking them out on the farm in couples; I had

all the puppies and Quest, and a Scottish terrier, and our daughter Eleanor on my back in

a backpack. We walked a loop around the barns, through the fields and down to the pond

to give them a drink. This was fine, except on the way over the hill they put up a hare, and

ran from the top of Flint Hill Road (Quest leading), down toward the pond. Upon arrival

at the water’s edge the puppies decided what they really wanted was a drink; it was hot, and

they’d been working against one another while in pursuit of Quest and the hare in their

couples. While I struggled to catch them (carrying Eleanor in the backpack) they all ran

into the pond. I realized that, coupled up, they were in imminent danger of drowning one

another, and the question arose as to whether I was going to shed the baby and save them

or plunge in, baby and all. Fortunately they sorted it out and got out of the water more or

less unscathed – hazards of walking out in the 1960s!

While all this was going on, Morgan Wing was working hard behind the scenes to get

the Flint Hill registered with the National Beagle Club (NBC) as a basset pack. I first met

Morgan in New Jersey, as he was a perennial judge at the Tewksbury Foot Bassets puppy

show. Morgan loved to promote the growth and expansion of other packs of hounds, not

necessarily just beagles. He was endlessly encouraging to us when we were just starting the

Flint Hill Bassets and allowed us to come to the NBC fall trials even before we had the req-

uisite five couples of hounds needed for NBC recognition. Morgan was directly responsi-

ble for the fact that there are now two sets of trials at Aldie, one for beagles and one for

bassets. The connection between Morgan and Jonesie, as Morgan always called Jimmy, was

enduring, lasting Morgan’s entire life.

With Morgan’s encouragement, Jamie and I sat down and considered forming our

36

own basset pack. Bassets are expensive to feed, but we felt we could slowly expand our pack

to five or six couples, thereby assembling enough hounds so that we could be considered

for recognition by the National Beagle Club.1

Kennels

One day in the mid-sixties, when I was still raising Tewksbury puppies for the Tewks-

bury Foot Bassets, up Flint Hill Road came a dump truck piloted by Tewksbury stalwarts

John Ike and Teddy Koven. In the back was a pig house, weighing about a quarter ton,

which was intended as housing for the puppies. They lived there happily, first the puppies,

then most of our own hounds, for quite a few years. In 1970 we had a catastrophic house

fire, and when we reconstructed the damaged part of the house, we added kennel space for

the hounds. It is a small space, but we had a very small pack. There is bench space enough

for ten or twelve hounds and a swinging door to an outside run north of the house, all of

the kennel proper being incorporated into our new kitchen wing. If they weren’t sleeping

well, we knew about it. I had a slingshot by the window, and if they went out to quarrel at

night, they found that I could hit a noise in the dark quite well. They knew not to go out

and bay at the moon!

In the late 1960s and early 1970s we had some awesome winters. I was faced with the

problem of having the hounds walk out across the fences, which were five feet high (mem-

ories of the Poona Bassets, see Appendix IV). There was a larch tree in the middle of their

yard, and somewhere I have a picture of hounds sitting up in the branches of this tree

because I’d had to excavate a huge amount of snow from around the inside of the fence so

they couldn’t escape. Every morning we would go out and dig and dig to keep them in.

The snow was so hard-packed by the wind that they walked right on the top of it, a scary

situation. The wind blew, the snow blew, and we tried to pile the damned stuff up so it

wouldn’t blow right back into the trench I was digging around the yard fence.

By 1972 or 1973 Jamie and I had seven or seven-and-one-half couples of hounds happily

ensconced in their digs on Flint Hill.

Family Traditions

My sister Annecy’s husband, Bob Schooley, was a very keen basseter and whipper-in

for Jimmy Jones. They always came up and stayed with us on Flint Hill “to finish the

season” in the early days. Bob tragically died in 1967 of staphylococcus pneumonia, leaving

my sister to raise their two children. Until her recent death, she and my nieces spent most

of the major holidays with us. Like Jamie and me, they became as much a part of the San-

danona community as the Tewksbury community.

We volunteered to do our first end-of-the-season lunch on Flint Hill in the late ’60s.

The crowd was small, and we have pictures of everyone sitting in our living room. Betty

and Jimmy Jones were there, the Schooleys, Morgan and so many other people who are no

longer with us. Following lunch we all went hunting, and thence on to an extraordinary

tea, probably at the Woodstock Road house of Jane Auchincloss. When Jamie and I and

Bob and Annecy came back we had to face unbelievable piles of dishes. We listened to

records and washed and dried far into the night.

37

On another luncheon occasion I came upon Betty Jones in our kitchen holding up a

plate, checking out the underside. Betty was an interior decorator and had a great eye for

“stuff.” She said, “Oh my, this is really quite nice!” perhaps not expecting anything but

chipped pottery from the confines of our kitchen/kennel. After the luncheon Molly Leavitt

came to the kitchen door, surveyed the expanse of unbelievable destruction and dirty dishes

and turned around and said, quite regally, “Well, if this were my kitchen, I would never

come home.” Well, of course we were going to come home and deal with it, but we went

and had fun hunting first.

Competing at the National Beagle Club

In 1968 I went to the National Beagle Club basset trials at Aldie, VA, for the first time,

taking Relish and three of her puppies. Relish was a seasoned hound, but the puppies were

all that year’s entry. The hounds traveled in the middle of our Volkswagen bug, and

Eleanor, aged 3, sat in the space behind the back seat (eating Cheerios all the way to my

mother’s house in New Jersey and feeding half of them to the hounds). After leaving

Eleanor with my mother, I drove to Aldie with my “pack.” I had never been there, as my

parents had not allowed me to spend three days “gallivanting” with these strange basset

people, participating in an incomprehensible competition in an unknown place, especially

when school was in session. They had enough trouble understanding hunting in the first

place; Aldie was out of the question, and I had to be as nearly adult as I ever got to be to

go there.

I arrived with my four hounds and was assigned a kennel for my hounds and a bed in

the “squaw” cabin for myself. By the luck of the draw,my little pack was selected to hunt last

in the two-couple. Darkness was falling, and the judges wanted to finish the competition by

the end of the day. The hounds found quickly and ran their rabbit very nicely around the

enclosure, which was very much the same then as it is now. The outside fencing was chicken

wire, and in the dark it was practically invisible. The rabbit, viewed by everyone, came flying

out of the woods as far as the fence, and squatted. The hounds came flying out of the woods

and all hit the fence sequentially, ending in a tangle of basset bodies, while the rabbit

returned the way it had come. The hounds picked themselves up, solved the check, and ran

the rabbit to ground. Morgan, judging, produced his trademark belly laugh and explained

to all who would listen that we didn’t have chicken wire in Millbrook!

This was all very exciting, and I announced to the judges that I thought that the rabbit

had gone in. Unfortunately, I didn’t blow them to ground; I just told the judges that that was

where it was. We finished fourth, but Morgan later told me that if I had blown gone to

ground, I would have been second. It was almost, but not quite, the best hunt of the day.

I was very pleased with my hounds, and while I didn’t have a four-couple, which was

the only other class at that time, I did have hounds to run in the stake. To my astonishment,

my young hound Dragon won this event and his mother Relish was fourth. I came home

on cloud nine. This was a great accomplishment for my infant pack, and I was incredibly

proud of them. As I learned quite soon, something of this sort is difficult to sustain!

Dragon won the stake again in the following year. However, he was the kind of dog that

if you bred a lot of him, would ruin your pack. When he was two-and-a-half he was killed

38

crossing the highway coming home after a deer hunt, which was the other thing that he did

absolutely brilliantly! Deer hunting was the worst problem that I had withmy bassets; Quest

was incorrigible, preferring to run deer if he could.We didn’t have as many rabbits in those

days; I persisted in hare hunting, which was really the most fun, and I did it almost entirely

by myself.We had some classic hare hunts, but also some deer hunts that were simply aston-

ishing. Because there were fewer deer, they often went vast distances in front of hounds. I

spent one day running from Separate Road to Stissing Mountain (about 13 miles) after my

hounds, which were running deer. Some hounds broke themselves, and of necessity we got

more adept at preventive measures. It took many years to get them steady, and they are still

not 100 percent, but they are much better than they were in the old days when the deer went

straight away for the next county. The huge number of deer in the country now also makes

it much easier to teach hounds not to hunt them.

A Hound Trip Story

The Flint Hill trips to Aldie were always punctuated by a stop at the Inn 22 in Harris-

burg. Since time immemorial (i.e. before the construction of Interstate 78), the Tewksbury

Foot Bassets had stopped there en route to Aldie for lunch. Everything moved more delib-

erately then, and the state of the road was such that it took most of the day to get to north-

ern Virginia. (Now it takes me six-and-a-half hours from Millbrook.) Once upon a time it

was a long and twisty trip, punctuated by inns. I would plan my departure so that I would

arrive in time to join them all at Inn 22, a tradition and a gathering point.

On this particular October day, the hounds were traveling in their accustomed spot in

the back of our green VW squareback, safely behind their barrier. I cracked the windows

open a bit so they wouldn’t suffocate while we lunched. When I returned, they were gone.

My“barrier” – homemade – was sufficient to keep them from climbing into the front when

I was driving. But I wasn’t driving; I was inside having lunch. They had squirmed over the

barrier, squeezed out the window, and vanished. Panic set in! This was distressing because

Inn 22 was on Route 22, which was four lanes of continuous traffic. There was much urban

noise, and I was desperately concerned about my little missing pack.We stopped to listen;

hark! the sound of hounds in full cry rose from the back yards of the housing development

behind the Inn, and from a dump that was behind the houses. The Flint Hill Bassets were

happily running rabbits. We got them all back intact; nobody got squashed on the road,

and miraculously no angry householders appeared. It was probably at that point that I

began to think that sharing a vehicle with these things was probably a less than ideal way

to transport them.

Merger with the Sandanona Beagles

In 1977, after Morgan’s death, Oakleigh decided that he really didn’t want to have total

responsibility for the beagles. At the same time, I accepted the job as the Millbrook Hunt’s

professional huntsman. The bassets moved to Thorndale and became part of the San-

danona Harehounds, and we took down our own kennel fence. The kennel is still there, and

someday I may give all this up and keep two couples of bassets again. Full circle, maybe fun!

39

Some Memorable Flint Hill Hounds

Flint Hill Quest Quest was a member of the first litter that I raised for the Tewksbury Foot Bassets in 1960.

He was the smallest and least prepossessing of eight puppies, but he showed great intelligence

and caught my attention early. I raised these puppies from birth to the age of about 10weeks,

after which Quest’s seven littermates went back to the Tewksbury kennels, and Quest became

our house dog. Legend has it that hunting dogs that live in the house never excel, but Quest

was certainly the exception. On our first morning’s hunting we were a few minutes late to a

6ammeet, at Larger Crossroad, in Far Hills, NJ, and hounds hadmoved off when we arrived.

We heard, but could not see, hounds running in the mist, and Quest unhesitatingly left me

to join them. It is only now, from the perspective of many years, that I realize how astonish-

ing it was for a dog that had never been hunting to “enter” immediately to something that he

was completely unprepared to do. He ran hard from the outset, and Tewksbury’s huntsman,

Jimmy Jones, was quite critical of him at first, but soon gave him credit for doing his part.

When we moved to Millbrook, it never occurred to me to ask Morgan if this hound would

be allowed to join the beagles. It was very hard on him, seeing us putting on our green coats

and going off on a Sunday afternoon! He knew perfectly well what we were doing.

One day, despite a tremendous snowfall, Oakleigh decided to go out, just for some

exercise. We asked if Quest could come, and Oak said, “Oh sure, why not?” We tramped

around Thorndale in trackless, beautiful snow. Eventually we managed to step on a hare

hidden under the snow, and she exploded in our midst with sprays and showers of snow

and hysterical beagles going everywhere. A sight chase ensued, followed by a total loss.

Quest made a big cast around, stuck his nose in her tracks and off he went. He was the only

hound that knew he could run this hare by smelling the tracks she left. Every once in a

while he stopped and put his nose into the snow to confirm, but for the most part, he ran

her tracks by sight. I have had a number of hounds over time that would do that; if they

intersected with another hare track, they always had to stop and check which track was the

one they were hunting.

Oakleigh thought that was pretty useful, and told us to bring him every Sunday; for

about four seasons, Quest was a regular member of the team. He ran steadily in the mid-

dle of the beagle pack, and distinguished himself by continuing straight on through their

checks while they were making a cast to correct themselves. He was not quite as fast as they

were, but he certainly had a better nose, and he was extremely steady on the hares. When

I began to have more bassets I would bring two couples to hunt with the beagles, and they

were useful in many situations. They do hunt differently from beagles.My early bassets sel-

dom over-ran, and were also very intelligent at working checks.

Quest himself, unfortunately, was an appalling deerhound. We didn’t have enough

deer to set the hounds up and mete out appropriate punishment when they transgressed;

eventually he and Dragon were killed returning from a long staghunt. They had gotten

away and run through Turkey Hollow, and they were killed on the way home, crossing

Route 44. This early disaster was one of the things that made me resolve to change the way

that we interacted with the deer, as it was too difficult to continue as we were.

40

Flint Hill Bullrush Quest was the Flint Hill Bassets’ foundation sire, and the bitch that I bred him to was the

previously mentioned Relish. She had two litters of puppies for us, and all the ones we kept

hunted really well. In the first litter there was a dog named Bullrush, which I gave to the

Tewksbury. Jimmy eventually gave him back, I think because he thought at the time he was

the wrong color, or maybe he thought he was too small, or possibly there was some other

reason. Bullrush was the first dog I ever had that broke himself from running deer. That

was a real start for me, as it enabled me to begin to understand what was going on. If I saw

him coming back to me, I knew there was trouble! In those days I hunted as often as I

could, and hares were everywhere. Sometimes I had difficulty finding them, but I had some

memorable hunts, often on Pugsley Hill, sometimes on Thorndale, almost always by

myself, but sometimes accompanied by Bill Wetmore, Jamie or Farnham Collins. Farnie

had several superb days with my fledgling pack.

Bullrush sired several litters and eventually retired to our house, spending his days

and sometimes his evenings running rabbits up and down the hedgerows. One evening we

heard him running all night, loud and clear and joyfully. He came home in the morning,

very pleased with himself. Later I went out to pick up the children at school, and when I

returned, Bullrush was stretched out on the lawn having a siesta. Only it wasn’t so – he was

dead as a mackerel. I’m sure he was dreaming of rabbit hunting, even as he slipped away,

and I hope we may all be so lucky!

Flint Hill Beadle Another grand hound that was whelped on Flint Hill was a dog hound named Beadle, sired

by Bullrush out of Flint Hill Dido. Beadle had that look about him denoting spirit and

intelligence, and he was a beautiful mover. I thought he was going to be a great one, but

watched in dismay as he grew – and grew. He was clearly going to be too fast for my little

pack and so, regretfully, I gave him to the Tewksbury. In those days Jimmy’s pack was pre-

dominantly lemon and white, and Beadle was a rich dark tricolor, so for many years they

neither showed nor bred him. Finally, however, good sense prevailed and Beadle appeared

in the Stallion Hound Class at the Bryn Mawr Hound Show. He caught the eye of Ben-

jamin H. Hardaway, MFH, who was judging the English Basset ring that year, and Ben

eventually put him up as champion. Those were the days of two basset rings at Bryn Mawr,

one for the outcrossed English Bassets and one for AKC hounds. The winners of each ring

met at the end of the day to compete for Grand Champion Basset. Sparks flew at the final

judging! The AKC judge, noted basset breeder Peg Walton, looked Hardaway dead in the

eye and announced that she would not accede to his desire to put a “beagle” up as cham-

pion basset! A total deadlock occurred which was only resolved in favor of the AKC basset

when Mrs. Walton relentlessly pointed out that in addition to looking like a “beagle,”

Hardaway’s Champion English Basset had one foot which pointed west. History, however,

has vindicated his choice, as Beadle went on to sire Tewksbury Foot Bassets’ Fixture ’84 and

Fabric ’84; both were perennial hound show champions, and Fabric figures prominently in

the pedigrees of a great many of today’s hunting bassets.

41

Flint Hill Ballad Ballad was a littermate of Bullrush and Beadle. She was staggeringly beautiful, a wonder-

ful hunting hound and an excellent brood bitch. She had a beautiful correct front, lovely

feet, a wonderful, laid-back shoulder and a long swan neck. In my innocence I expected

that I would be able to breed them like this all the time! If I can breed this one, why can’t

I breed more?Well, I still have never, in the intervening 25 years, bred another hound, bitch

or dog, as good-looking as Ballad.

42

Betsy and Jamie Park

with the Flint Hill Bassets

at the National Beagle Club,

Aldie, VA, 1976, photo

courtesy of The Chronicle

of the Horse

Above: Betsy Park and

Quest’s litter, 1960

43

Right: Jamie and Betsy

Park with their daughter,

Eleanor, at their house

on Flint Hill Road, Amenia,

NY, 1969

44

Above: Joseph McKenna,

joint master of the

Coldstream Bassets, and

Eleanor Park (now Hartwell)

showing Flint Hill Amazon

at the Bryn Mawr Hound

Show, 1975, photo courtesy

of Betsy Park

Right: Flint Hill Dido, winner

of the Timber Ridge Bassets

Trophy for the Best AKC

Basset Hound in the show,

Bryn Mawr Hound Show 1972,

shown by Betsy Park, Freudy

photo courtesy of Betsy Park

45

Above: Hares boxing in the

moonlight on Flint Hill Road,

drawing by Eleanor Park

Hartwell

Right: Flint Hill Bassets

button, drawing by Eleanor

Park Hartwell

ISBN 0-9749534-0-7

Clockwise from upper left:

Oakleigh B. Thorne; Anne and

Morgan Wing Jr.; Elizabeth B.

Park; Morgan Wing Jr.