Camilla Swift

With just three days to go until the opening ceremony of the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris, the equestrian world went into meltdown last night. The first sign of any upset was a statement issued by Team GB equestrian star Charlotte Dujardin: 'A video has emerged from four years ago which shows me making an error of judgement during a coaching session', she wrote. As a result, Dujardin – who has won six Olympic medals – has withdrawn from all competitions, including the Paris games, until the FEI (International Federation for Equestrian Sports) complete their investigation. The video shows Dujardin during a coaching session for a horse and rider, in which she repeatedly hits the animal on the back of the legs with a lunging whip.

The sight of runaway military horses – one covered in blood – wasn't what any Londoner expected to encounter on their commute this morning. Seven horses from the Household Cavalry bolted during their daily exercise, having been frightened by falling concrete on a building site near Buckingham Palace. At least four people were hurt and several vehicles smashed. Two of the animals travelled five miles to Limehouse, in east London, before they were rounded up. It’s no wonder people were surprised. If you live in London, you’re unlikely to see horses regularly – and, if you do see them, they’d usually be behaving themselves and on duty, not galloping blind and riderless through the roads.

Once upon a time, hare coursing was a respectable sport, practised by Royals and other members of the gentry. The Forest Laws, imposed after the Norman Conquest, were introduced to ensure that only the nobility could own greyhounds which is why lurchers – crossbreeds between a sighthound and another working dog – became both popular, and known as ‘poachers’ dogs’. But in 2005 the Hunting Act arrived ­­– changing everything. In 2019, I wrote in these pages about the current illegal hare coursing occurring across the country: ‘It was the Hunting Act that drove coursing underground, and at that point the rules of the game changed.

At the tail end of last week, news emerged that no groups of more than six people were to be allowed to gather together. Certain activities were to be excluded from the so-called 'rule of six' — and as soon as it was announced on Monday that various rural pastimes were exempt, the press had a field day. ‘No birthday parties but you can shoot grouse’, the Times announced. The Mirror declared that ‘Toffs can go on a Boxing Day hunt — but you can’t have a Christmas Day meal’. Of course, I understand the problem: it simply isn't a good look. The two sports picked out by the papers — ‘hunting and grouse shooting’ — have always had a class-related image problem.

If you’re driving at dawn or at dusk in the countryside at this time of year, you might well see shady-looking men standing around in a stubble field, their 4x4s parked close by and ‘long’ dogs — greyhound types — straining on the lead beside them. Watch and you’ll see them walk up the field, or along the edges, until a hare makes a bolt for it. The men are ready. This is what they’re there for. A dog is let off the lead, and someone with a phone videos the scene. The footage is being live-streamed to others who have placed bets on the outcome —guessing which dog will kill the most hares per ‘slip’, or chase. When the hare has been caught (or when it’s scarpered), another dog has a go.