Gangs, violence and dumped dead animals: The hidden world of illegal hare hunts

Farmers say they have been threatened by balaclava-clad hare coursers at night

On a remote Cambridgeshire farm, where his nearest neighbour is half a mile away, Mathew Latta was making lunch when the peace was shattered by the sound of loud exhausts.

Latta ran to the window to see a convoy of more than a dozen 4x4s heading towards his farm. His iron gates were cut open with an angle grinder and concrete blocks were shifted out of the way to clear the convoy's path.

The vehicles drove right over his fields at speed, tearing up the crops and skirting the fence by the family's garden. Then more than 70 people got out of the vehicles, men dressed in military fatigues and balaclavas, cheering and playing music.

"They were all stood up on their cars with binoculars," says Latta. "I would say this is 100% a properly organised coursing event, with competitors and competitive dogs. People watching the course - and watching and betting on that sport. It was quite terrifying."

Latta and his family were trapped in their home. They kept calling the police, but nobody came. His daughter, then aged seven, was terrified and kept asking: "Are these men gonna come inside, daddy?"

More than three hours later, the bloodsport was finally over and the crowd dispersed. They left behind four cars, one of them a burnt-out wreck. It emerged that, earlier that day, the convoy had rampaged through an area 20 miles (32km) long in the county, forcing other cars off the road and even robbing a petrol station.

Cars were abandoned on Mathew Latta's farm after it was taken over by hare coursers

This is the modern reality of hare coursing. It is an ancient sport where dogs such as greyhounds or lurchers are used to hunt hares, which the coursers usually scare out from the wild. Points are awarded for the number of times the dogs force the hare to twist and turn as it runs - as well as for the kill.

The sport reached a peak of popularity in the 19th Century, but went underground after it was banned in the UK in 2005.

We began investigating this underworld for the BBC Radio 4 podcast Dead Rabbit after the bodies of dead hares and other animals were mysteriously dumped in two picturesque Hampshire villages in 2024.

In Awbridge, more than 20 carcasses - mostly hares and rabbits, along with a muntjac deer with a severed head - were strewn outside a primary school. Children were in tears when they arrived for lessons and found a horror-movie scene.

About seven miles north, in Broughton, about 50 hares were scattered near the entrance of the village's community shop, with blood smear