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Woven in to Devon folklore is the yeth hound which, according to phrase and fable, is said to be the spirit of an unbaptized child that stalks through the woods at night howling and wailing. It is also thought to be the inspiration for the ghost dog in The Hound of the Baskervilles by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The hound was described as “an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen – with fire in his eyes and breath“.

What does it smell of? Inspired by the 17th century Russian method of curing leather with birch tar this scent also takes inspiration from Cuir de Russia. It smells of dark moorland and smoke. Labdanum, frankincense and cedarwood combine with the sweetness of tonka bean and the earthiness of vetiver. The smokey oiliness of birch tar presents itself at the end of the scent and binds everything together.

This is Baskerville and it is monstrous.

How strong is your scent? We wanted to err on the side of caution and reduce the risk of skin sensitization and as a consequence we would say that (to us) our scents are light to medium in strength, with Baskerville being medium on that scale. It is made up of three (3) different essential oils (cedarwood, frankincense and vetiver) and two (2) fragrance oils. It’s prominent notes are labdanum and frankincense. As a suggestion if you’d like to boost your scent strength why not add a few drops of either to your lather? N.B. if you choose to do this please be certain to test the lather for sensitization prior to application of the area to be shaved.

Attention to detail: Our enterprise is an intimate family operation where we focus on the detail, quality and aesthetic of our products and we focus on you, our customer. An example is how we use our own hands to blend each essential oil accord. These are carefully meted out recipes that are made one batch at a time and added to the just made soap. N.b. Our soap is a thirsty beast. For a better understanding please take a moment and watch my guide on how to lather our soap.

Кожаные куртки, брошенные в угол,
Тряпкой занавешенное низкое окно.
Бродит за ангарами северная вьюга,
В маленькой гостинице пусто и темно.

Командир со штурманом мотив припомнят старый,
Голову рукою подопрёт второй пилот,
Подтянувши струны старенькой гитары,
Следом бортмеханик им тихо подпоёт.

Эту песню грустную позабыть пора нам,-
Наглухо моторы и сердца зачехлены.
Снова тянет с берега снегом и туманом,
Снова ночь не лётная даже для луны.

Лысые романтики, воздушные бродяги,
Наша жизнь - мальчишеские вечные года.
Прочь тоску гоните вы, в выпитые фляги,
Ты, метеослужба, нам счастье нагадай!

Солнце незакатное и тёплый ветер с веста,
И штурвал послушный в стосковавшихся руках...
Ждите нас, не встреченные школьницы-невесты,
В маленьких асфальтовых южных городках!

Ждите нас не встреченные школьницы - невесты
В утренних асфальтовых южных городках.