Johnny Richardson: Memories of a Legend

By Midge Todhunter

Johnny Richardson - a Cumberland legend. 

A shepherd boy from Buttermere who was called up for World War II and sent to the front line in France. Posted next to Egypt, he was taken prisoner at Tobruk and shipped to POW camps in occupied Italy from which he escaped three times. While on the run he w

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mr
• Release date: Oct 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9781913898212

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Johnny Richardson

Memories of a Legend

By Midge Todhunter

Contents

Publishing Information

Introduction

Dedication

Johnny Richardson

A tribute to Johnny

Preface

Michael Hedley MFH pays tribute

Blencathra

Let’s go back a few years

Betty Birkett – Johnny’s sister

Johnny’s war years

Willie Tyson

The rogue greyhound of SaddLeback Fell

Stan Mattinson

Allan Tiffin

Memories of Johnny Richardson

David Bland – West Head Farm

Barry Todhunter

Song: JOHNNY RICHARDSON

Postscript

Epilogue

Midge Todhunter

Publishing Information

Published by Midge Todhunter 2020

Copyright © Midge Todhunter 2020

www.midgetodhunter.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-913898-21-2

Also available in paperback

Book & Cover Design by Russell Holden

www.pixeltweakspublications.com

WILK caricatures: copyright kind permission of © Wilkinson family

The author asserts the moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Introduction

This is not a reference book. It is reminiscences and first person recordings on the life and bygone era of the late Johnny Richardson (1918-1988) from those who knew him well: it is written for posterity before those memories are lost in the mists of time. All citations and content are solely on the period pre-1988. (NB: Foxhunting stopped in England when the Hunting Act 2004 came into force on 18 February 2005.)

The Blencathra Hunt, a subscription pack for fell sheep farmers in northern Cumberland, employed Johnny as huntsman (1949-1988) to keep on top of the marauding fell fox population. And that’s what he did – very, very successfully. But there was more to hunting than catching a fox – there was the humanity side, and Johnny was very, very good at that too.

Johnny Richardson died 32 years ago but they still talk about him with affection, and that’s a testament to his stature: an expert shepherd, a WWII veteran, a celebrated fell huntsman, and an extraordinary human being. In collating this book there has not been one person who has had a wrong word to say about Johnny, many say he was their hero, and most conclude we will not see his likes again.

DEdication

This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandfather Johnny Todhunter, a front-line infantry soldier with the Black Watch Regiment who was gassed in the trenches of the First World War. He was brought back to Cumberland, but died at Threlkeld TB Sanatorium near Blencathra Mountain.

I strongly believe: Lest we Forget.

Johnny Richardson

He was as old-fashioned as the hills he walked over. He belonged to a previous era: born and bred to the crags and steep, rugged slopes, the in-bye valleys and the fast-flowing mountain streams; to the shepherd’s life and companionship of working dogs; a straight-talking shepherd who could speak the farmers’ language: a time of shepherds’ meets and local sheep shows; when huntsmen and hounds came to stay in the valley for a week; morning gatherings of folk at hunt meets with home-made fare; of tattie-pot suppers with cherished hunt songs, and hunt dances in village halls bustin’ at the seams. When the local man who had risen to be huntsman was held in high esteem...an icon in these parts. Now, all that is gone, ‘cept the memories.

A tribute to Johnny

(writer unknown)

How fortunate we have all been to have known the late Johnny Richardson. Such a lovely man, his wisdom, kindness and great knowledge must have helped very many go through life with a more cheerful outlook having met him. His three wartime escapes and a 200-mile walk to freedom along the Appian Way in Italy showed great grit and determination of his character. Only this last summer in July he underwent a serious operation but his dedication to the Blencathra pack saw him back on the fells on the first morning of September.

His hounds worshipped the very ground he walked on and would come back to him, tail wagging after a cracking hunt, to be rewarded with a pat or kind word. People from all walks of life, including HM The Queen whom he met when the Blencathra paraded at The Royal Show, to the ordinary people who met him and enjoyed his cheerful company and friendly smile. Hunting folk from all over the British Isles and further afield would make a pilgrimage to hunt with Johnny and enjoy his unique style.

As an ambassador for hunting, he always put his message across with clarity and sincerity. Of all the great Lakeland huntsmen from John Peel onwards, the legendary Johnny Richardson will be remembered as ‘without equal’. It seems unbelievably sad that we shall no longer hear him calling to his famous Blencathra pack: Come on boys – we’re going this way. Perhaps the greatest tribute we could pay to Johnny – was that he was always a true gentleman.

Preface

In all walks of life there are people who become uppermost in what they do. Above and even beyond this, there evolves a very select few whom, for some indefinable reason, it all simply falls into place. Their careers topped with a splash of stardust ascending them to genius level. Johnny Richardson was one such man.

It was characteristic of rural Cumberland people that, over the centuries, they turn necessities of bucolic work into leisure-time activities. They climbed the fells daily, so held fell running races...just for fun. Hard labour of farm work needed men of muscle and brawn, so they created Cumberland and Westmorland Wrestling as a testament of their strength coupled with agility (they still wrestle in traditional vests and long-johns). Sheepdog training was the skill of the shepherd so they began sheepdog trials to enhance their dogs’ dexterity. They held sheep shows to improve the quality of their stock. Hound trailing (hound racing) began in the Fells with matches between favourite working fell hounds, and is now a major traditional sport in this neck of the woods. All these sports were pulled together at village shows and local gatherings, and brought a unity among folk we do not see today. And songs were how fell folk recorded and passed down the history.

The fell farmers’ only annual crop was lambs. And when the huntsman of the local pack came to stay and hunt foxes for a week in their valley - in preparation for next spring’s lambing, it was a spectacle and occasion of sport for all: the squire, the yeoman, farm-workers, road men, even the coalman on his rounds would join the hunt; the village ‘hunt week’ was looked upon back then in holiday-week terms.

So this was the golden era of hunting in the fells, and Johnny Richardson has gone down as ‘one of the greats, a legend in his own lifetime, and beyond.

Michael Hedley MFH pays tribute

Michael Hedley was the ultra-successful Master of the Border Foxhounds for 47 years, hunting hounds for 38 of those seasons, showing incredible sport. Michael was closely connected with the Blencathra and Johnny for most of that time. He said Johnny was his: ‘Go-to-man for all things hunting’.

Michael said: "Johnny Richardson was one of the greatest hunting people of all time, and one of the greatest of men. A nicer man you could not wish to meet, an absolute genial gentleman. At the top of his game, it was not just his way with hounds, but with people too. A great friend to many and known across the whole hunting world, even right across America.

Talk about an icon. I’ve followed football since I was five and I’m 73 now. I’m a passionate supporter of Manchester United with its highly paid players and all of that – yet there’s not one of them fit to lick Johnny Richardson’s boots.

When Michael’s father, Ian Hedley, took the Border hounds on in 1952 they had about 16 hounds and in the first year it was very frosty. They were miles away from Bellingham and hit the line of a fox which took them over the North Tyne River which was frozen - half the pack went down under the ice, and the other half got out. They lost half their pack that day.

Michael: "Father was given hounds from other packs including some fell hounds, and it was then he realised the fell hounds were better suited to our hill country. We’re going back 60 years, but that’s how the Border’s relationship with the Blencathra began. Both Father and I continued to look to Johnny for advice, and for hound breeding.

Coming back from Rydal Hound Show one year, he beckoned me over to sit with him in the pub at Thirlspot and he started telling me all about his war-time experiences. Our conversation lasted for about an hour. What he’d been through in the war would have broken most men. He’s the kind of person who would pass the SAS tests currently on television. Yet an absolute gentleman, never jealous of anything nor any other pack.

If the Border had a bitch they wanted to take to one of the Blencathra doghounds, and on the odd occasion they couldn’t locate Johnny and the bitch was ready, they’d put it in the car and just go and hope for the best. In the early days they would send bitches over to Johnny by rail. Their local carpenter was asked to make a box for a bitch to travel in, so they could put her on a train at Hexham or Woodburn Station (before Dr Beeching) and Johnny would pick the hound up at either Threlkeld or Keswick.

"Sometimes we were running short of a doghound to go to, and if Johnny didn’t have anything he always knew of a doghound from another pack. I rang him one day and said I’d been offered a Dumfriesshire hound as an outcross, expecting him to say, No, no, I wouldn’t go down that line. But he said he’d recommended that same outcross to the Bewcastle who were asking his advice, saying it would improve the voice and cry of their hounds. So Johnny wasn’t afraid to go to a complete outcross, hence why he said to me, Yes, good idea.

"We used his doghounds a lot. I remember as a small boy we had a Blencathra doghound called Dancer which might have been past his best, so he came to us as a stallion hound. He was a magnificent dog. Wherever we put him he jumped out. Our grassyard had a high wall around it and Dancer would get up on that wall and strut his stuff. One day Dancer jumped in among our hounds and they all just stood and sniffed around him and I can remember his expression on his face: ‘I’m here, I’m in charge, and don’t forget it...’ then he jumped back out again.

"Wherever Dancer was walked (as a puppy) he must have lived in the kitchen, as he would open our farmhouse door handle with an almighty bang and just walked straight in. Our Labrador had an