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CHASING AND RACING

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

THE AMATEUR'S
DERBY

A NOVEL

[In the Press

THE BODLEY HEAD

/44^^^^

CHASING AND RACING

SOME SPORTING REMINISCENCES

BY HARDING COX

LONDON : JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LTD.
NEW YORK : JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMXXII

The Portrait of the Author is from

A Photograph by

Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.

ii^ 0^

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED
LONDON AND BECCLES

SK3

G44

14, Carlton House Terrace,
Pall Mall,

London, S.W.

29M October y 1921.

My dear Harding Cox,

You ask me to write a " Foreword " to
your " Reminiscences," but I fear I have so little
literary talent that I should only disgrace the pro-
duction. But I am sure your " Reminiscences " will
be most interesting, for nobody has a greater experi-
ence in all the sports of the world than you have,
and whether you are the champion of the lot or not
is, to my mind, a very small point. It is the interest
people take and their insight into the various branches
that count, rather than what they do themselves ; and
certainly you have always taken an advanced position
in that from your early days of Terriers at the
Crystal Palace to riding in the Polo Pony Races at
Hurlingham, and under Jockey Club and National
Hunt rules.

Wishing you all the best of luck.
Believe me,

Yours very truly,

LONSDALE. (Signed.)

PREFACE

IN setting forth my reminiscences of Chasing and
Racing, I have taken a rather bold step, inas-
much as my personal experiences as a Master
of Harriers and Foxhounds, and as an amateur
rider, have been confined to *' provincial " packs, and for
the most part, as regards race riding, to very moderate
specimens of the equine race ; but as one who loved
the hounds which he hunted, and the " blood " which
carried him under Jockey Club and National Hunt
rules, I venture to hope that the idiosyncrasies, and
what I may term the " personalities," of these incon-
spicuous animals, will appeal to those who take a real
interest in hounds, hunters, and racehorses, apart from
their face value as means to an end only — as pawns in
the great games of the hunting-field and the racecourse
respectively.

I had hoped that the portraits of some of the
canine and equine heroes and heroines which figure
in these pages might appear in this volume ; but, by
an evil stroke of luck, all my albums containing these
counterfeit presentments were, a few years ago,

viii PREFACE

destroyed in a devastating fire, which levelled to the
ground the repository in which they had been stored
during one of my many migrations. And with them
perished all those notes, diaries, and cuttings, on which
I had relied for my data ; so that only the ashes of
memory remained to stimulate my pen. On this
ephemeral faculty of memory, therefore, I have had
to rely entirely ; so 1 trust that such readers as I may
have will make due allowance for any inaccuracies or
anachronisms which may appear in the following pages.
I had set forth on my labour of love to chronicle my
rambling reminiscences in many connections besides
Chasing and Racing, such as coursing, shooting,
angling, rowing, and various other experiences ; but
I soon found that the great games of hunting and
racing exhausted the space allotted to me. If the
fates are propitious I may yet have an opportunity for
dealing with these other ventures in which I have
exploited my sporting tastes and ambitions.

HARDING COX.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

PAGB

My first mount — My first sight of « colours " — Two turf yarns —
Sir George Chetwynd and thesneak-thlef— « The Mate " holds
his own — " The Boys " at Buntingford i

CHAPTER II

Death of my beloved father — My inheritance — ^Edward William
Jaquet — Fidus Achates — Our menage at Twickenham — My
first real race meeting — My canine shadow — Ted and I marry
two sisters i a double wedding — My first racing pony and a
bad start at Hurlingham — ^Jesse Winfield sets me on the right
track — A fine average — The peerless Catona — An Irish excur-
sion— "Rough stuff" which misfired la

CHAPTER III

'• Be thou pure as ice and chaste as snow, thou shalt not escape
calumny " — Etna the double of Catona — The Usher, a rusher ! —
An oversight leads to legal action — Lord Finlay of Nairn and
Lord Russell of Killowen — The National Pony and Galloway
Club — Harry de Windt — Innocence invites suspicion — Ted's
tits — Virtue its own reward — " Charlie " Beresford — " Harry "
Bentley — A trial and its sequel — Some conspicuous riders . 28

CHAPTER IV

We establish ourselves at Missenden Abbey — A scratch pack — I
inaugurate the Missenden Harriers — The Belhus hunters —
Yeoman and Melbury — A strange coincidence — I absorb the
Hambleden Vale Harriers — William Snaith and the Cripps'
family — The ethics of stag-hunting — The wild and the carted
stag — A kill in the open — " He laughs best who laughs last ! " —
First words about "Roddy " Owen 46

CONTENTS

CHAPTER V

PAGE

Back to pony racing — A home meeting — "Bunny" Leigh —
" Gratty " Blagrave and Charlie A'Court (Col. Repington) —
Missenden trout : a three-pounder — A glorious evening's
sport — The Misburn dries up — Chequers Court — A prepos-
terous claim that failed — Vale ! Missenden Abbey and the
M. & H.V.H.— The O.B.H. East and West—" Uncle Punch "
— I am offered the Mastership of the whole country — Lord
Lonsdale, a friend in need — The '* Gay Gordons" — Mr.
Chaplin lends me the Blankney pack 64

CHAPTER VI

Cubbing — My Curraghmore bitches — Blanche, Lady Waterford —
"Dear old Bricket " — Tom Firr — "A bad huntsman cannot
make a good pack " — Lord Chesham — A cabal — Bob Webber —
Fishing in the Chess — The Drakes of Shardeloes— " Mr. Ekard "
— A close contest 76

CHAPTER VII

Outlying foxes — Peter Chutterbuck — Stanmore Common— A by-day
and the run of my life — Brother Irwin " gets the wind up " —
All my eye — " For it ! " — A general meeting — Defeat of the
Committee — I am too magnanimous 91

CHAPTER VIII

Social strictures — The O.B.H. country again divided — " Mutey "
Drake — Pity the poor M.F.H. — The debacle : Hounds and
horses under the hammer — Samson and Trimmer — Rare old
Landsman, an ideal hound — A forgotten tragedy . . . 100

CHAPTER IX

A rash wager — " All's well that ends well " — ^The huntsman hunted
— Happy days at Brigstock — " Rock " and " Tony " Burghersh
— A hunting tour in the shires — The Fitzwilliam and Bache
Cunards — " Sugar Candy " — A duchess in embryo — The stone
walls of Blankney — Another " busman's holiday " — " A pushing
young particle" — Purblind and almost dislocated — Neck or
nothing! no

CONTENTS xi

CHAPTER X

The curse of versatility — My first winner under "legitimate " rules —
A Chester Cup veteran — Lady Frederick. — Racehorse "v. Pony !
— Left at the post — My new colours — Enter Weasel, " the
wonder worker !" — A rare bargain — Guinevere " the genuine "

CHAPTER XI

More about Weasel — My first mount on him — Misplaced gallantry
— " Bonnety Bob" — Armada — " There's many a slip " — So near
and yet so far — A dead heat — Class must tell — " Geoie " Gunnis
and his Mongrel — Listeners hear no good of themselves — Never
say die — A sensational race and a priceless protagonist" . .129

CHAPTER XII

The sportive double — " The Boden Eccentric " — My first ride on
Latimer — The first barrel of " the double " scores an easy win —
Latimer, proxime accessit at Lewes — A promising hurdler comes
to a sad end — A nice wager — Weasel and I opposed by the
crack amateurs — A tortoise and hare race — Weasel gets home
by a short head and " clicks the double " — A hundred to one
chance in a field of three scores — The fatal policy of over-
confidence 146

CHAPTER XIII

My last ride on Weasel — The best of friends must part — Stable
companions of equal prowess — Weasel and Hugger Mugger,
"fifty-fifty" — A crack amateur in opposition — A desperate
finish between four — Weasel obliges for the last time — His
otium cum dignitate — The " undefeated Tommy Lushington ''
and hefty " Bill " Moore — Weasel's understudy — Not an arm-
chair ride — I " ride " a Grand National and a Derby winner ! —
I am installed at Headbourne Worthy — My fidus Achates as
manager — W. H . Manser and his family — "Woggy" . .156

xii CONTENTS

CHAPTER XIV

PAGE

George Thursby makes his bow — " An unequal match " (alleged) —
Trelaske v. Foghorn — George fails to take revenge at " the
doves " — Roscidus, " the prince of rogues," takes on St. Bede
and chucks up the sponge — Another " unequal match " —
Trelaske f . the Pusher — An impertinent comment and a
humorous one ! .166

CHAPTER XV

The purchase of Dornroschen at the Doncaster sales for "a song" —
Gurry is contemptuous but Davis is wise to merit — She wins
when pig fat and I buy her in — An historic match and amazing
wagering thereon — The Ring hilarious — Dornroschen lowers
the mile time record when winning the Nottingham handicap —
Purchase of Blankney — A colossal steed — Blankney -v. Macun-
cas — "Jimmy " Duke in the cart again 176

CHAPTER XVI

Our little lot at Headbourne Worthy — ^The High Peak Welter —
Trelaske a stayer — Speed and stamina — The wonderful memory
of the equine race : two striking examples — A fatal bolt from
Heaven — Chevy Chase, amiable but unlucky — An error of
judgment — I breed a winner and annex a prize for nomenclature
— "Picking 'em up cheap!" — My "skins" win five times
their purchasing price ! — I pay four figures for a filly who
never wins me a brass farthing — Marcus Beresford has "not
time to look ! " ......... 185

CHAPTER XVII

A sad disaster to Dornroschen — An official handlcapper " side-slips,"
but I fail to take advantage — The Jockey Ring — A funny
favourite " clicks " — An old head on young shoulders — Honesty
rewarded and the biter bit — The dying jockey's admonition . 195

CONTENTS xiii

CHAPTER XVIII

PACK

" The Jubilee Plunger " — His love for children and dogs — A " fly
flat " — A try out at pyramids — A side-slip and a prison —
Undefeated spirit — Tod Sloan not the first " croucher "— The
advantages of ** the crouch " and its faults — The tuorst seat and
the best hands — ^Tod demonstrates — No advocate of catgut
coercion — Tod the philosopher — The pot boils over — Never
" warned off^," but " advised not to apply " — Tod's sun sets — A
beautiful wife and a spectacular cropper — Captain Roderick
Owen —The resourceful Roddy — His sad end .... 208

CHAPTER XIX

Thrilling finishes — Melton 1/. Paradox — ^The mighty Ormonde —
The Bard — The unlucky prefix " The " — The homeric struggle
between Ormonde and Minting — Ard Patrick 'u. Sceptre —
Alsopp, Madden, Bradford, and Calder — Bradford's first mount
— H.R.H. puts me wise — So does Jack Gubbins — Galtee More's
super-excellence — Unbeaten horses — " The Spotted Wonder " —
Would he have won the Derby ? — The weak link in his heredi-
tary chain — Isonomy and his lazy but brilliant son Isinglass —
The best I have seen run — The best looking — The ugliest . 218

CHAPTER XX

Mr. Jersey and Jeanne — A musical amanuensis — Open house at Regal
Lodge — Captain Machell — A welcome " retriever " — A Very
Great Personage — The perfidious Peter — Putting my foot in it
— The Prince's tip — Jeddah disappoints, but pops up unexpec-
tedly— A hundred to one winner of the Derby — Mr. Jersey's
foresight — Merman makes good but Aurum misses fire — Lady
Rosebery, a welcome legacy — Amberite "no gentleman !" , 237

CHAPTER XXI

Arthur Coventry — Blankney takes revenge — Dornroschen and I slam
Blanc and Arthur — " Tommy " Lushington undefeated — "Bill "
Moore, George Baird, Bobbie Fisher, and "The Child"—

xiv CONTENTS

"Roddy" and "Rock"— The Earl of Dudley— " Wengy,"
Charlie Cunningham, Dan Thirlwell, and ♦* Mr. Charles ■" —
Major Frank. Atkinson, " one of the best " — A plethora of tips
— Humphries' day out — A colossal " win," but no cash ! — A
catch bet

PAGE

2+7

CHAPTER XXII

Dreams ! — A very vivid one which materialized — A cryptic dream
which left me guessing — The Animals* Derby — The Squirrel
" home " first ! — The right colours but the wrong colt ! — George
Fordham's only Derby triumph 256

CHAPTER XXIII

Jockeys of the old school — ^Johnny Osborne does me a service — So
does Tom Cannon, senior — I patronize the apprentices and prove
a mascot to them — The Chaloner and the Loates' families —
Jesse Page — George Fordham " quite understands " — " I shall
never get home by a nob " — " Phwat detained }ez ? " . . 262

CHAPTER XXIV

Presentiments ! — Cabin Boy's victory foretold — The mystery of
Medora — I am warned that Persimmon is destined to beat St.
Frusquin — La Fleche's downfall, not her true form — St. Simon
to the rescue — End of my racing reminiscences . . . 267

ENVOI

finger in every pie — I could not specialize — The curse of ver-
satility— Sport and sportsmen — Field sports proper — The cant
of cruelty — Falconry — A natural flight — Sparrow hawks 'v.
Heron — ^The harried quails 273

CHASING AND RACING

CHAPTER I

IT has been said that the true horseman is so
born, not made, and that hereditary leanings
are sure to manifest themselves during the
up-bringing of the child. Every rule has
its exceptions to prove its efficacy ; though where
this same heredity fails, its forebear, atavism, may
manifest itself irregularly and sporadically, missing
several generations before revealing itself in some unit
whose immediate parentage gave no hint of the trait in
question.

So it must have been in my own case, for I came
of a stock sorely afflicted with hippophobia (a word of
which I hold, I should imagine, the copyright, and by
which I claim to signify, ** fear of horses,'' derived, of
course, from the Greek ittttos — a horse, and <^o/3ta
fear). That is to say, so far as bestriding the noble
steed is concerned ; for some of my near relatives,
notably my distinguished ** Dads '* could handle the
ribbons quite efficiently ; but as for throwing a leg
over one of his favourites, nothing would have induced
him to court the adventure, although an occasion did
arrive, when such became inevitable. This was when
our late beloved King Edward was married to the " Sea

2 CHASING AND RACING

King's Daughter." It was arranged that the Lord
Lieutenant of Middlesex and his posse of Deputy-
Lieutenants were to act as escort in the wedding pro-
cession. My excellent parent being of the cult, found
himself in the awful predicament of having to venture
outside one of the dreaded beasts, or to give up par-
ticipation in the historical event. So he screwed up
his courage and was hoisted, in all the splendour of his
official garb, on to the back of a particularly amiable
and plegmatic drum horse, borrowed from H.M.'s
Life Guards. With a stalwart trooper to hold his (my
parent's not the gee's) legs, ** off " and ** fore," the
ordeal was successfully negotiated ; but though the
staid old black had not ventured out of a walk from
first to last, the dear old ** Dads " suffered pangs in
the lumbar region for many days that supervened.
When I was a nipper, there was a tradition rife among
my female relatives that one of my father's brothers
had been a devil of a rider. In fact, some went so far
as to declare that he had been a ** gentleman jockey ; "
but when or where he had distinguished himself in the
pig-skin, I never could discover. Anyway, he passed
in his checks at an early age ; his demise, so I was
informed, being due to copious libations ; which may
have cheered, and undoubtedly did, intoxicate.

So much for my Uncle Dudley.

It was left to me to revive the tradition as far as
the horse-riding part of it was concerned ; albeit I was
not seized with any inordinate desire to distinguish

CHASING AND RACING 3

myself as an equestrian of the haute ecole^ in my early
days.

My first venture, however, brought out that com-
petitive spirit which has been an ever recurrent and
abiding trait in my character.

My Cousin ** Ted '* Jaquet,* son of my father's
sister, Harriet — better and more affectionately known
as " Bunny " — had, with his sister Alicia, been brought
up in our London residence, 36, Russell Square, and
consequently we were on the terms of closest friend-
ship ; though I had encumbered the earth for three
years longer than he had. When lads are in their
" teens " three years count and account for much. I
am afraid I rather lorded it over Ted in those days,
and was inclined, at times, to play the bully ; but as
we grew older the value of the hiatus from my point of
view, gradually disappeared, until there came a day
when my young relative openly defied me. I could
not give away the weight (about two stone), and there-
fore my physical supremacy came to an untimely end.

When my father died, at the normal span of seventy
years, he left me a fortune, and the implied duty of
" looking after " Ted, who had then just attained his
majority and had lately been bought out of the 8th
Hussars, in which distinguished regiment my cousin's

* Shortly after I had written the last of these pages, Nov.
1 92 1, death robbed me of this life-long friend, brother-in-law,
and first cousin, the energetic, genial, and thoroughly efficient
secretary of the Kennel Club. R.I.P.— H. C.

4 CHASING AND RACING

adventurous spirit had constrained him to enlist. An
experience by the way which, later on, served him in
good stead, when he and I were sporting the gorgeous
** outfit '' of the Duke of Cambridge's Hussars
(M.Y.C.). I now installed him Secretary of State,
Agent General, Chief of the Staff, Q.M.G., Fidus
Achates, and boon companion — a sort of personal Pooh
Bah, in fact. Like myself, there was nothing in his
pedigree which suggested horsemanship as a likely
recrudescence ; but assuredly he was obsessed with the
desire to disport himself in this direction ; though his
too solid flesh forbade dreams of glory on the race-
course.

I must go back a bit to describe our first equine
adventure.

In our stables at my beloved home. Moat Mount,
situated on the summit of Highwood Hill — the
highest point of the county of Middlesex — there were,
besides Tommy and Pet, the bay and grey cobs,
driven by " The Dads," a pair of " camels," whose
duty it was to drag the family barouche, containing
my mother, when she paid formal calls on the neigh-
bouring " quality " (she was mostly of Irish blood,
with a dash of French) or when she devoted two and
a half weary hours to divine worship on the Sabbath.
These ponderous " coach horses " were named respec-
tively Castor and Pollux, and it was difficult to tell
** t'other from which," either in appearance, pace and
action (alike inconspicuous) or temperament.

CHASING AND RACING

Came a time when ** The Mums " was recruiting
her health by the sad sea shore (she was a semi-
paralytic, poor soul, and needed these annual relaxa-
tions).

So Messrs. C. and P. were kept in the stables,
eating their heads off and waxing more gross and
plethoric daily.

The fact struck Ted as unreasonable, and he sug-
gested that they should be called upon to convey our
vile bodies on their broad backs. I had my qualms,
not I regret to say, of conscience, but of nerves !
Having conquered my misgivings, on the noblesse
oblige principle, we deliberately bribed the coachman,
commandeered the noble animals, and set forth.
Goodness only knows if either gee had been pre-
viously " backed," but they behaved in angelic , style.
So much so, indeed, that my soul having grown
stronger, I actually suggested a race on the turnpike
road ! Always ready for any sport, Ted agreed, and
we lined up with a good straight mile of macadam in
front of us. When the mutually agreed signal was
given and the flag fell. Castor and Pollux ** began
slowly " as the sporting papers have it ; but a liberal
administration of the blackthorn awakened them to
their responsibilities, and they put in good work.
Being evenly matched, despite the handicap of Ted*s
superior weight, the struggle was intense and the
two — owing to their constant parallel association, with
the pole of the barouche between them — kept

6 CHASING AND RACING

religiously head to head. My primitive idea of
** finishing '* was to let my mount have an absolutely
free rein. Under normal circumstances this would
have stopped him, and given victory to Castor (Pollux
was my mount), but in this case it did not affect the
result, which was a dead heat ; though both Ted and
myself stoutly claimed a head victory, and the stakes
of ** one bob," which had been agreed upon.

Well, we just managed to get the poor ** heavenly
twins '* back to the seclusion of their respective boxes,
but that was about all. Needless to say that the
family barouche remained silent and inert in the
coachhouse for many a long day ; whilst the local
vet. had the time of his life.

So ended my first race, which occurred during the
holidays, when I was a Harrovian.

At Cambridge I devoted myself to the river, where
I had the distinction of creating a record, which so
far as I can ascertain, has never been lowered.

Perhaps space will enable me to deal with my
exploits in the boats later on ; but for the moment,
I must ** cut cackle and come to the 'osses.*'

I did a bit of hacking when up at Trinity ; but I
did not hunt, except on foot, with the college beagles.
Nor did I patronize " The Grind ; '* but I had seen
" colours," and had heard the thunder of hoofs and
the crack of lethal catgut, even before I became a
member of the University ; to wit — when I was
coaching for the Trinity Matriculation with my kind

CHASING AND RACING 7

old god-father, Canon Harding Girdlestone, at
Gloucester. His son, Theophilus, and I used to
wander about exploring Nature, and sampling her gifts.
One day we happened on the confines of the race-
course during the progress of a meeting, and having
mounted a high bank, we had an excellent view of the
proceedings, as far as the back-stretch was concerned ;
though the stands and winning post were remote from
our eyes. But my blood was fired. I did not know
the names of the horses, nor of the jockeys, nor whose
colours they wore ; but I waxed excited as the fields
swept by — the riders shouting and cursing, and the
dust flying ! ** Theo " was bored to tears, but I was
spell-bound. Only once when I was " up *' at
Cambridge did I attend a race-meeting, cap-a-pie — my
first experience. This was a jump affair at Aylesbury,
whither I had been escorted by some of my more
sporting Varsity pals. My impressions of this ad-
venture are somewhat vague. The ** sticks '* and
** flags " never appealed to me as did, and do, flat-
racing ; but I remember on this occasion being
relieved of my silver watch, which, strange to say,
illustrates an incident that stands alone. Despite my
long experience of race-courses of all sorts and sizes
this was the only occasion on which my person or
my property has been interfered with,

A propos. This may be counted an opportunity
for the interpolation of a couple of yarns, which may
perhaps be accorded a leaven of humour.

8 CHASING AND RACING

The late Sir George Chetwynd had been presented
with a scarf pin by some admirer or admirers, the
sentimental worth of which exceeded its intrinsic
value ; but it disappeared from its satin sanctuary
one fine day at Ascot. Its owner waxed wroth, and
as he was acquainted with a certain doyen of the " boys,"
he sought out that worthy and complained bitterly
that he, as an owner, should be subjected to such
illegitimate pilfering.

** All right. Sir George,'* protested the " head."
" It's all a mistake of some blithering novice of
ours. I'll see you gets it back all right. Go
over to ver firs on ver far side, at the long interval,
and yer pin will be 'anded back to yer — see I
But you'll 'ave ter come acrost wiv' a couple of
thick 'uns, jest ter show there's no blinkin' ani-
mosity."

And so it turned out : the Sporting Baronet
retrieved his beloved pin, and the chap who handed
it over received the stipulated honorarium.

Later on. Sir George, having an early engagement
in town, decided to miss the last race and to take
his place in the first waiting train. Comfortably
ensconced, and enjoying a contemplative weed, he
became aware of a respectably dressed little chap,
who might have been a methodist preacher or an
undertaker on the loose. He kept perambulating
past the carriage, and peering at its occupant. At
last he paused and gave tongue.

I

CHASING AND RACING 9

** Beggy pardin, Gov'nor. Might you *appen to
be Sir George Chetwynd ? '*

The answer was in the affirmative, with the
addition of the reasonable query, " What can I do for
you ? "

** Well it's this way,'* began the interloper ; " you
'ad a pin pinched on the course didn't yer ? "

The listener assented, but assured his questioner
that the gaud had been recovered, and that everything
in the garden was lovely 1

But the baronet was beset by a further " interroga-
tory."

" That's all right, Guv'nor, but would you mind
tellin' me, in strict confidence, 'ow much you bunged
over to the bloke wot 'anded you yer property ? "

** Well, I don't know how it concerns you mi*
lad," responded Sir George ; " but if it is of vital
importance that you should be acquainted with the
exact sum that passed, I don't mind confiding to you,
that it was two pounds sterling."

** Blyme 1 a couple o' quid ! 'Ark at that now !
So 'elp me Gawd, they only gave me 'arf a thick un,
and I was the guy wot pinched it orf yer ! "

A gang of roughs once had the temerity to attempt
to turn Sir George Astley (affectionately known as
** The Mate ") upside down, and to shake all he
carried out of his pockets ; but they caught a tartar.
The genial and breezy baronet was no mean performer
with " the raw 'uns," and after he had neatly laid out

lo CHASING AND RACING

three of the crowd, the rest suddenly remembered that
they had an important engagement elsewhere, and
so took to their heels, raising a miniature sand storm,
which completely concealed their retreating forms.
These cowardly rascals have been the curse of the
turf from time immemorial, and so far from their
activities having been diminished as time goes on,
they grow bolder, and even more brutal than of yore.
The railway authorities and the police seem to be
quite unable to cope with the crooks ; though all are
identified.

I suppose there is some truth in the adage which
ascribes honour to thieves. Among these ruffians
there is one law which is pretty strictly observed.
No owner, trainer or jockey is to be robbed : for it
is recognized that through these, racing exists. If
there were no race-courses one of the most prolific
fields of enterprise would be closed to the activities
of the "Boys."

On one occasion, at a little meeting at Buntingford,
the promoters had neglected to call in the aid of the
police, thinking that their venue would not be deemed
worthy of attention by these same " Boys." It was
patronized by all the " toffs " of the county, who flocked
to the course from far and near, in four-in-hands,
tandems, and other sporting conveyances ; bringing
with them their womenkind, bedizened with a blaze
of jewellery. The family plate was conspicuous, and
when the luncheon interval arrived, at a given signal,

CHASING AND RACING ii

an attack was pressed home by the roughs. After
having filled the silver bowls with the choicest vintages
of their unwilling hosts, their health was drunk with
acclamation to the very dregs, and then the trophies,
plus forks, spoons, and other utensils of sterling metal,
were transferred to convenient sacks and dispatched
to some melting furnace, the situation of which was
more than problematical. Moreover, the ladies were
urgently pressed to bestow souvenirs in the shape
of diamonds and other precious stones on their husky
** guests " and none dared to refuse. After that,
the gang devoted themselves to the real business of
the day — viz. racing. The few ** bookies '* present
were freely patronized, but the punters took no risks.
They chose their own favourite and made sure of its
** clicking ** by the simple expedient of sending patrols
to all the fences, to stop any horse and rider (except
their own choice) who seemed to have the remotest
chance of landing the stakes. They did pretty well
at this, but decided that the pencillers ought not to
be allowed to depart with any superfluous dross
remaining over — after the aforesaid operations —
and acted accordingly. To illuminate the end of
a perfect day the exuberant ** lads " set fire to all
the fences and stands, and departed, drunken, but
happy in a blaze of glory.
Hark back !

CHAPTER II

THE night came when, on entering my dear
old dad's study, I found him dead in his
chair. He had never had a day's serious
illness in his life, and had always prayed
that his end might be sudden.
His prayer was heard 1

" His life was beautiful," I cried,
" As he has lived, so has he died."

It was a terrible shock, which threw me into a
state of neurasthenia for the time being. We had
been such pals and had always seen eye to eye in
regarding the forces and necessities of Nature, which,
despite man's fatuous endeavours, must remain un-
alterable and implacable to all eternity.

My father was a just man, and had little respect
for the hard and fast rule of primogeniture. Conse-
quently his considerable fortune was equally divided
between my half-brother, Irwin, my sister Ada (Mrs.
Bennett-Edwards), and myself ; but we were to be
life beneficiaries only — with remainder to our respec-
tive offspring in esse and in posse. At that time,
mine were in posse ; but Irwin's hardly likewise, as

12

CHASING AND RACING 13

he had been married for nearly twenty years, without
issue, and his wife was, poor soul, a hopeless invalid.
But my sister had a quiver-full.

Just before we lost our dear old " Dads," I had
become engaged to Ted Jaquet's sister, my first cousin,
Alicia ; but " The Mums '' did not approve of
consanguineous marriages, so the romance failed to
materialize. Consequently I was fancy free when,
having handled some of my inheritance " on account,''
I took a furnished house in Kensington, which Ted
and I made our H.Q. what time we were running
around. We brought back a pair of goats from the
Emerald Isle and turned them loose in the garden
attached to Cleeve Lodge, where they proceeded to
play such havoc that I had to disburse ^2^0 when my
tenancy came to an end 1

Then I had leanings toward a strictly rural life
and so secured a furnished abode at Twickenham,
where Ted and I were to live — surrounded by live
stock — as confirmed bachelors. We had dogs galore
(with one Charlie Heritage as kennelman), cats,
rabbits, a surly and savage badger, geese, turkeys,
poultry of various breeds, and small deer in the shape
of aviary pets, guinea pigs, white rats, and tortoises.

But even with this miniature farmyard and
zoo combined we were restless. We had entered
into possession in the merry month of May. The
call of springtide stirred our blood and turned our
fancies (by no means " lightly ") be it said, to thoughts

14 CHASING AND RACING

of love. Local beauty offered no opportunity for the
chase. We were constantly driving up to town in
our dogcart, with its smart trotter, Phcebe, in search
of adventure, to the great neglect of our menagerie.

At odd times, however, we did indulge in desultory
hacking in Richmond Park, on hired gees. It was
inevitable that we should do a bit of private racing
on the inviting stretches, with the result that, on one
memorable occasion, my mount " ran out," and took
me unwillingly through a clump of trees, where, had I
not ducked in the nick of time, a low-growing branch
would have assuredly deprived me of my "napper,'*
and there would have been an end of all my ** reminis-
cences." By what close margins does Kismet keep
on its implacable course !

It was whilst residing at Cambridge House,
Twickenham, that I had my first experience of a
real live race-meeting. This was the Epsom First
Spring, to which Ted and I hacked over on the day
when Bend Or triumphed in the City and Suburban
of 1 88 1. He beat Foxhall cleverly, conceding a
lump of weight. When the latter *s extraordinary
performances in the Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire *
in the following autumn are considered, it will be
realized what a smasher was the chestnut son of
Doncaster. He needed to be that, the previous year,
when on the same classic downs he just, but only just,

* Foxhall carried 7 stone 6 lbs. in the Cesarewitch and 9 stone
in the Cambridgeshire.

CHASING AND RACING 15

succeeded in putting paid to the high pretensions of
Robert the Devil in the Derby of 1880. Some say
that inferior jockeyship was alone responsible for the
defeat of the latter, and prophesied that when the Leger
came round, Messrs. Brewer's champion would have
an ample revenge. This forecast, as history relates,
was borne out to the letter : but personally, I have
always believed that at Doncaster, the Boy in Yellow
was a bit off colour ; whilst Robert was top notch, as
he proved when he added the Cesarewitch to his
laurels.*

All this, by the way !

Ted and I had backed the Duke of Westminster's
champion all right enough, but no material gain came
our way. We had remained on the far side of the
course in a small enclosure near the winning post, and
had selected one. Cox, as a likely penciller, probably
because he shared my patronymic ; but when it
came to claiming winnings, his too solid flesh had
melted. In vulgar parlance, he had " done a guy." So
we jogged back to our celibate abode certainly sadder,
if not wiser, lads.

It was during our sojourn in Twickenham that I
suffered a loss which caused me dire distress. I have
been, from my earliest days, more of a " cynophilist,"
than an <' hippophilist." Though forming attachments
to various units of the equine race, I generally regarded

* After winning the St. Leger, Robert the Devil was successful
in the Cesarewitch, carrying 8 stone 6 lbs,

1 6 CHASING AND RACING

them as a means to an end ; whereas my own particular
canine pals claimed a place even nearer to my heart
than some of the indispensable females of the human
race, who from time to time, claimed my temporary
allegiance. Of all my familiars none has been dearer
than a certain fox-terrier registered as Coxswain,
but known to me and my friends as Cockie. It
was from this little chap that I derived my own
sobriquet. A fair friend had declared that I and my
canine attendant were strangely alike, not only in
appearance, but also as regards temperament, and
that, therefore, it behoved all and sundry to address
us by the same name. As my terrier was a particu-
larly handsome specimen of his breed I raised no objec-
tion on the grounds of personal appearance ; but
when it came to a question of character, I was inclined
to demur, for my tyke was a rascal of the deepest
dye, and possessed of a cayenne pepper temper which
brooked no interference by any one except his master.
He was absolutely fearless of God, man, devil, or the
creatures of the wild, including the harmless, necessary
cat, against which he waged eternal warfare. Here
was a striking example of hereditary temperament
for his sire, Mr. Skinner's ** General,*' was a holy
terror and when visited by the opposite sex, for the
purposes of eugenic propagation, it was always a toss-
up whether he would proceed to amorous gymnastics,
or would elect to tear the windpipe out of his would-be
inamorata. Cockie's dam was the darling of

CHASING AND RACING 17

Ted*s heart — Stella, by name, sprung directly
from the primitive Nottingham strain, being by Old
Sam, ex Cottingham Nettle.

My favourite had the run of the premises and was
the terror of all interlopers. I had taught him to be a
dog of all works. He was as keen as mustard on fur
and feather, and did duty for spaniel, pointer or re-
triever ; though as regards the last-named industry,
I always had to race to the kill ; for Cockie was
decidedly of iron jaw, and would reduce a partridge
to a melange of blood and plumage in an incredibly
short space of time.

The sad day arrived when, returning from a
cutting-out expedition to the Metropolis, there was
no little pal to greet me with his usual demonstrations
of joy. Cockie had disappeared, utterly and irretriev-
ably. Rewards of ;^5, ;^io, and finally (ji^^ elicited
no response. I put a detective on the track of possible
dog-stealers. He followed what he deemed to be a
slender clue into the purlieus of the East, where he
was so heavily drugged that he died within a week.
Thus tragedy trod on the track of tragedy.

Cockie had passed ; but his name survived ;
for as ** Cockie " I have ever since been known
to my intimates and to the sporting public in
general.

Strange to relate, friend Ted had suffered the loss
of Cockie's dam, under similar circumstances. He
and I were strolling in the grounds of my old home,

c

18 CHASING AND RACING

Moat Mount, accompanied by the little old bitch.
Presently she was missing. From that day to this
her fate and what led to it has been a complete mystery.
Truly coincidence has a long arm.

As the days passed we two inseparable young
bachelors became more and more fed up with our
menage and our polyglot menagerie. Our visits to
town became of daily occurrence. Both of us had
leanings to the sock and buskin; in my case another
example of direct heredity, for The Dads was one
of the best amateur actors, reciters, and readers whom
I ever remember to have seen or heard. So we joined
the Philothespian Dramatic Club. Whilst fretting
our hour before the footlights we made the acquaint-
ance of two fascinating sisters, with the result that
we soon found ourselves " engaged." One fine day
in October, 1881, our father-in-law elect was seen
proudly descending the aisle of St. James's, Piccadilly,
with a radiant daughter on each arm. Ted, having
doped himself with libations of champagne to calm
his nerves, was in peril of selecting my bride, instead
of his own liege lady ; but the latter promptly put
him right and all went well.

To start domestic life in earnest I secured a
maisonette in S. Audley Street, and by way of diversion,
joined Hurlingham, the Gun and (later) the Ranelagh
clubs, with a view to exploiting my skill as a pigeon-
shot. It was at the first-named fashionable resort that
my attention was drawn to the pony races which

CHASING AND RACING 19

periodically took place. My imagination was fired,
and I made up my mind to butt in. At TattersalFs
I picked up a likely looking brown pony called Phyllis,
about fourteen hands. After giving her a few surrepti-
tious gallops in the early hours, on the Rotten Row tan,
where a friendly minion of the law had discreetly
looked the other way, I entered her for a members'
race at Hurlingham and ordered my colours — cream,
dark blue and gold hooped sleeves, quartered cap.
The great day arrived, and as I weighed out I had a
sharp experience of that distressing sensation, " the
needle." There were seven runners on the cramped
course, and in my anxiety to be well away I
slightly broke the line. " Go back a bit, Cox " —
this from the starter. Of course he meant ''full
hack " ; but in my ** greenness '* I turned my mount
" about," and as the flag fell I was left some two
lengths and there remained ; but Phyllis and I nego-
tiated the sharp turns quite comfortably and I kept
my seat all right. On a subsequent occasion I was
off the mark promptly and was well placed to win if
my mount had been good enough ; but she was not !
Although I won some nice races with her at local
meetings later on, her form was not up to the Hur-
lingham standard. Something a deal smarter had to
be found. It was at this juncture that I came in
contact with Jesse Winfield. I believe he was looked
upon as very hot stuff indeed ; but all I can say is
that he played the game in a perfectly straightforward

20 CHASING AND RACING

manner with me. He found me some exceedingly
smart material and trained it to perfection ; so that I
had a real good innings and showed a remarkable
riding average for several successive years. The
best record, twenty-one mounts, thirteen firsts, three
seconds, two thirds, and only three unplaced ! My
initial bargain with Jesse resulted in the purchase,
at a quite reasonable figure, of the peerless Catona
a b.f. 4 yrs. by Soapstone (son of the great Touch-
stone)— Calm, by Orest, by West Australian. She
went easily under the 14.2 galloway standard, and was
a bloodlike, varminty sort, with beautiful manners.
The first time I rode her at exercise she was bitted
with a double ring snaffle, but she yawed and stretched
at it, pulling harder than was comfortable. Jesse
suggested that as I had ** hands " it would be as well
to try a ** Hanoverian.'' Sure enough the little
lady took kindly enough to the formidable restrainer.
Her dehut was at Ranelagh, and here I practised
tactics which I have smce found most effective, not
only in pony racing, but later on when engaged in
the " legitimate '' line. I jumped off" smartly, and made
the running until my mount was going evenly in her
stride. Then I gradually held her back until she lay
about fourth ; but without losing place on the rails.
Approaching the final bend I let her go up to the
leaders, and in the straight, came away to win easily
by a couple of lengths. My first win and a delightful
ride. A thing not easily to be forgotten. While I

CHASING AND RACING 21

am about it I may as well run over the remarkable
career of this champion " pony." At Ranelagh and
Hurlingham she became an institution — a sort of
fashionable idol. She was as good over the sticks
and between flags as she was on the flat. In "jump "
races I confided her handling to my friend Harry
Bentley, a most accomplished horseman, a crack shot,
and withal a man of brains and literary accomplish-
H ments. He won on her at every time of asking.
On one occasion this slip of a thoroughbred carried
no less than fourteen stone ten pounds over the
miniature Ranelagh Steeplechase Course (two miles)
and won in a canter.

After having ridden her myself to victory eleven
times without ever having to ask her to pull out
anything extra in order to slam her fields, she at
length broke down. Winfield spared no pains to
restore her once more to racing trim, and at last
imagined that she was sound again. She was saddled
at Ranelagh, and at one time it looked as if the
monotony of her triumphs was to be maintained ;
but when entering the straight, and making her usual
effortless but remorseless run, she suddenly faltered
and nearly fell. She hobbled in, a hopeless cripple
and never ran again. Meanwhile I had exploited
her in the provinces far and wide, and everywhere
successfully.
B One day Jesse came to me wearing a mysterious
B expression. " Squire,'* he said, *' isn't it time we got

22 CHASING AND RACING

some good dough out of Catona. Running her with
4-1 laid on her, cuts no ice and don't pay for her keep.'*
" There is an open race at Cork with fjioo added
money, worth goin' for, eh ? and perhaps, a S.P.
job, that will figure out at 100-8. What about it } "

** It's a long way to go," I ventured ; " though as
you say, {jioo of the best is not to be sneezed at.
But as for getting 100-8 or any sort of reasonable odds
S.P. I take leave to disbelieve you altogether. Why
her fame is as well-known in Paddyland as it is here 1 "

" Ah, that's where the laugh comes in. She can
be entered in any name and so disguised that even
you would not recognize her."

** Jesse," I exclaimed with frigidity, " you ought
to know me by now. What reason have I ever given
you to suppose that I would indulge in any sort of
crooked work } "

** You misunderstand me. Squire, there is nothing
crooked in this deal. The race is open to all ponies
and galloways under 14.2 There is no question of
registration, declaration, or ownership. Any name
can be selected, and the handicapping is on the weight
for inches principle. In Ireland they change the
names of their ponies every time they run."

" Well, as long as we do not contravene such rules
as may exist, I don't mind having a dart. Get a
move on 1 "

In due time the entries for The Great Shamrock
Pony Race at Cork appeared — a formidable list of

CHASING AND RACING 23

" Paddies/* ** Leprechauns," " Fenians/' " Dan'
O'Connells," "St. Patricks," " Mollies," " Norahs,"
and " Colleens."

Amongst them " Mr. Gilhooly's Fly " (none other
than the great Catona, if you please).

Passing over preliminaries, let us look at Fly
in the paddock. Ye gods, was there ever such a
transformation ? It seemed incredible that the mean,
broken-coated screw, looking as if she had been dragged
backward by the tail through a horsepond, was in
fact my bonnie brown Catona. Yet here she was
in the flesh, with a dirty sack thrown over her, by way
of a loin cloth. And the " colours " which Jesse had
provided ! A dirty white flannel jacket, and an
equally disreputable slate grey cap. There were
twenty-two runners of all shapes and sizes ; with
alleged jockeys of doubtful standing. Not one of
whom had the remotest intention of observing the
laws of racing, written or implied. There was to
be no pulling back and waiting to come with one
run this time. Success depended on a flying start
and going hell for leather, from pillar to post. But
it came off all right, and " Fly " won easily enough.

Jesse and Ted between them had been hard at
it trying to work a S.P. commission all over the
United Kingdom, but it was no easy job, I can assure
you.

Elated at the result, we eagerly awaited the price.
We had not a bet in the local ring, but as we heard

24 CHASING AND RACING

'undred ter wan ! ** others " shouted, persistently,
we had beatific visions of colossal gains.

Next morning The Sportsman reported the race and
gave the S.P. return as evens^ Fly \ lo-i, Murphy,
Leprechaun, Kathleen Mavourneen ; 100-8, St. Pat-
rick, Shillelagh; 20-1, others.

Evens, Fly ! The gaff had been blown and our
S.P. commissions, which amounted in all to £62 only,
had come across the Irish Channel, and made our
transmogrified champion a raging favourite. You
should have seen Jesse's face, it was a study in dis-
gruntlement !

Well, it served me right ! We had contravened
no rules ; but the whole transaction was an unsavoury
one and an insult to the reputation and prowess of
Catona. Anyway, it taught me a lesson and recalled
the good old adage which recites that one cannot touch
pitch without being defiled.

In those days there was a superfluity of " rough
stuff ** handed out to such as went to the starting-post
on " ponies.'* Some of the ** courses " on which we
disported ourselves were of a very cramped and
circumscribed character. The turns were so acute
that one had to swing around at an angle of forty-five
degrees or less, and the turf over which we galloped
was often of the roughest and most holey description ;
consequently accidents were of frequent occurrence
(though only on one occasion, did I witness a
fatal issue). At any rate we had to learn how to

CHASING AND RACING 25

handle a rampaging little " blood 'un/* called by
courtesy a " pony " under all sorts of trying con-
ditions.

Another miscalculation of chances from a financial
point of view befell me when I took Catona to compete
for a special £100 cup at Aylesbury.

I knew that it would be almost impossible to back
her ; so bethought me of another scheme by which
I could inflate my banking account.

Among the most enthusiastic followers of my
hounds (the O.B.H.) was George Gurney, a well-
known, and greatly respected operator in the Silver
Ring. A true sportsman and one of Nature's
Gentlemen.

I knew that he intended business at the meeting
in question ; so after kennelling my hounds one after-
noon I called upon him at his home on Croxley
Green. He opened fire with : " Well, Squire, I
suppose you will win that Aylesbury affair on your
little mare won't you ? "

" Probably — bar accidents,"

** Are you going to back her ? "

" No chance, George, unless the opposition is
much stronger than it appears. Look here, what if
I stand in with you and Catona runs for the book ?
I should imagine that some of the other owners and
the public will support the field."

** Right you are, Guv'nor ; but I have my doubts.
They will all want to have a bit for askin' on yours 1 "

26 CHASING AND RACING

There were, if I remember rightly, some fifteen
starters for the race, and just as I had weighed out,
Jack Westrup, runner to my hounds, came up and
" bit my ear " as the saying goes.

" Sir," he whispered, " IVe just overheard Mr.

and Mr. (naming two prominent riders) plotting

to put you over the rails ; so Fve hurried over to give
you a word of warning.'*

This was cheery news indeed. I could rely on
Jack. Originally he had been butler to the great
and popular ** Dizzy " at Hughenden. He had
attached himself to me when I had instituted the Mis-
senden Harriers and taken over the Hambleden Vale
pack. What he did not know about the wiles and
habits of the timid hare was not worth knowing and
he could always spot the quarry in her form, and whistle
us for the find. Later on, when I substituted the
canary of the O.B.E. for the green of the ** Jelly dogs,"
Jack proved of inestimable service as " runner."

And now how to outwit the scoundrels who
deliberately intended to risk murder or mutilation in
pursuit of their petty profits ?

I am not sure about the starter ; but I think it
was Harry Custance. It was a circular course, one
and a half times round for the mile (the distance
prescribed). I had drawn the inside, and perceived
that the plotters were on my whip hand. As soon
as we had lined up, I touched Catona with the spur.
This unaccustomed administration caused her to

CHASING AND RACING 27

jump forward nervously. ** Look out," I cried,
** this mare will kick you into the middle of next
week if you crowd on her ! "

** Here, come over on the outside. Captain Cox,"
called the starter. I lost no time in obeying the order.

" If there is a false start," I told him, ** this mare
will get away with me."

** All right, ril see to that. Now ! Are you
ready ? Then — Go ! "

Catona was on her toes and ofF like a swallow,
I made a bee line for the first turn, got there with a
lead of a good two lengths, and stayed to win by just
as far as I chose. In the dressing-room, after weighing
in, I determined to let one, at least, of the conspirators
know that I was cognisant of their amiable intentions.

" What about putting me over the rails ? '* I
asked.

** Nothin' doin' old Sport ! My tit couldn't go
fast enough to bite your mare's tail, much less give
me a chance to barge in on her flank."

Then I went to George Gurney to see how our
book had planned out. He showed me.

Some venturesome gambler had taken 5-1 in
half-crowns about a pony called " Royal Oak "
numbered amongst the ** also ran."

The rest of the column was i^/ank !

Thus do :

" The best laid schemes of mice and men
Gang aft agley I "

CHAPTER III

HAVE I ever been " invited to explain, etc '* ?
Why, yes ! On three occasions ! Each
time I emerged triumphant and left the
" Court of Enquiry *' without a stain on
my character. This, be it said, in connection with
** the ponies ** only. Perhaps I may be permitted
to add that, as regards racing under Jockey Club and
National Hunt Rules, never once was a complaint
made against me ; nor was any winner I rode ever
objected to. As a member of Hurlingham and
Ranelagh, when riding ponies at these fashionable
clubs, it was taken for granted that I was far above
any sort of suspicion ; but in " the provinces " it was
different. Undoubtedly a lot of questionable, not
to say crooked, tricks were resorted to by those who
considered themselves hyper-smart, and who, glorying
in their misdeeds, thought that all others, including
myself, were tarred with the same brush. It was,
in fact, as a general rule, a case of each for himself
and the devil take the hindermost. The three follow-
ing examples will show with what unworthy suspicion
the straightest of sportsmen and gentlemen are often

regarded by those who have no claim to either title,

28

CHASING AND RACING 29

but who are constantly looking for crookedness where
none exists.

Shortly after I had the good fortune to become
the owner of Catona, Jesse Winfield procured for me
a useful filly called Etna. This one was not up sides
with the champion, who was in a class by herself ;
but she was decidedly useful and would always give
a good account of herself when opposed to any but

B the top-notch flyers at the game. Now Catona and
Etna were extraordinarily like one another. Each
measured exactly 14.2 and were of the same build and
type. The latter was slightly brighter in coat and
had a small snip of white on the forehead which
Catona lacked ; but seeing them at exercise together
it was difficult to tell t'other from which.

K A rather attractive programme had been issued
for a meeting at Pontypool. The principal event
offered a good chance for Catona to add to her collection
of laurels, whilst there was a race for galloways that
had not won more than a stipulated aggregate of £ s, d,
and for which Etna was eligible. So we determined
to exploit both mares. The two races were on
succeeding days, and after Catona had astonished the
natives in her usual effortless manner, she was sent
home. The next day Etna duly obliged, and we
returned home puffed up with pride, joy, and satis-
faction.

But what was my astonishment when, a few days
later, I received an intimation from the Clerk of the

30 CHASING AND RACING

Course that stakes would be withheld since I had had
the effrontery to run Catona, on the second day, under
a different name, in a race for which she was not
eligible to compete ! Of course I was greatly tickled
by this ** howler," but there was no end of a pother
before I could clear up the stupid blunder ; in fact
we had to produce both mares and evidence of Catona's
return to stables on the evening of the first day, ere
the Stewards caved in, apologized, and paid stakes,
plus my " expenses '* !

The next item was staged at Portsmouth where
a so-called " big " event with ;^ioo added had been
advertised. I was very anxious to have a cut in at
this, but alas — Catona had retired from the race-
course and my others were hardly good enough. So
once more Jesse had instructions to find " the goods.'*
He was not long in doing so, and reported that he had
secured a miniature racehorse which had sported
Captain MachelFs colours under Jockey Club rules,
named Kismet, by the Derby winner, Kisber —
Angelina by Hermit. He was a perfect picture,
but a hot-headed little devil and a determined and
hard-mouthed puller. I had no opportunity of riding
him at exercise and so getting on pleasant terms with
him ; consequently, at the urgent prayers of Winfield
and other stable connections, I turned the mount over
to Tommy Aldridge, a very efficient understudy.
It was a big field, but Tommy soon had its measure
and won cleverly by a length. Now, not long prior

CHASING AND RACING 31

to this meeting, " The National Pony and Galloway
Club " had been formed with Captain " Freddy "
Herbert as Secretary, whilst I was elected a Steward.
The aim of the Association was to make pony racing
a game for gentlemen to play at, wherever, and under
whatever conditions, a meeting might be held. The
rules were drafted on the model of those of the Jockey
Club and the National Hunt, and it was thought that
a clean sweep would be made of the rascality and
double crossing which had hitherto thrown discredit
on the sport, and that many young officers and others,
who could not afford to go in for " legitimate " race
riding, would be eager to avail themselves of this
sport, which at any rate offered a valuable apprentice-
ship to more serious endeavours on the turf. Again
I suffered the indignity of being accused of fraudulent
entry ; for an objection to The Usher (as I had
renamed Kismet) was lodged on the ground that the
winner was not my property. I appeared before my
fellow stewards and stated how the galloway had
been procured for me by Jesse Winfield. I was
asked to produce the counterfoil of the cheque handed
to my trainer in payment and his receipt for the same.
This I could not do for the simple reason that I had
a running account with Winfield and never paid him
cash down for any several item. Luckily Jesse was
handy with this account, showing, on the debit side,
the date and the exact figure paid by him for the
purchase of Kismet on my account. So that was that !

32 CHASING AND RACING

The third act was again laid at Portsmouth, and
again The Usher, directly and indirectly, involved
me in trouble. He was top weight in a handicap,
which was the principal event of the day ; but by this
time I was training my own bloodstock with Ted
Jaquet as manager and one, Bill Davies, a hot-headed
Welshman as head lad. The Usher was on his
worst behaviour, and kept breaking away until my
arms and wrists were numbed. At last we were off,
but his weight and the capers the little brute had been
cutting at the post had taken as much steel out of him
as they had out of his rider ; consequently, by the time
we had covered five furlongs (it was a mile race) he
was stone cold, and finally was cantering in with the
crowd, when an inebriated marine gave him a cut on
the quarters with his cane ; whereupon The Usher,
having recovered his wind, caught hold of his bit
and bolted for the paddock. I was quite powerless
to hold him ! Three times he raced round the
enclosure and then dashed on to the lawn, in front
of the grand stand. On reaching the iron rails
dividing the lawn from the course, he stuck his toes
in suddenly, and I was deposited on the top of bookie
Treherne, conspicuous by his luxuriant face fungus,
otherwise beard. The worthy penciller broke my
fall without suffering much damage, so I escaped
unscathed, but a bit shaken,

I had entered in the last race of the day, a roan
three-year-old colt named Epsom Embrocation, his

CHASING AND RACING 33

sponsor being the worthy Jesse — whose marvellous
embrocation it was hoped would be boomed by the
exploits of the animal who, like The Usher, had
been " a regular " under the name of The Stick.
Incidentally I may mention that he was the laziest
bit of horseflesh I ever rode. Nothing but a dog
whip, neatly curled around his loins, would rouse
him to a realization of his responsibilities ; but when
he knew that the tawse was in my hands he performed
great deeds of valour, for he could stay till the cows
came home, and had a nice turn of speed when he once
made up his mind to exploit it. He went to sleep the
first time I rode him, and only woke up in time to
finish a length behind the winner. But never again ;
for, without exception, after a dose of the medicine (not
dope) described, he managed to carry me to victory on
every subsequent occasion that I rode him.

It was this joker that was entered in the last race
on the card. I had every intention of riding him myself,
but I was rather shaken by my Usher adventure ;
moreover, I was anxious to get back to town, so I
requisitioned the ever-ready Tommy Aldridge to
don my colours and weigh out. I watched the race
from the station approach and had the not unmixed
satisfaction of seeing Tommy land the phlegmatic
Embrocation an easy winner. Naturally I regretted
having missed a ** cushy '* winning mount !

An objection came along. The grounds thereof
were that Aldridge, being a professional jockey, was

34 CHASING AND RACING

not entitled to ride, as the conditions stated that the
race was for gentlemen riders only. Sure enough I
had made a fatal error this time. In the hurry and
confusion I had overlooked this stipulation. Of course
I offered no opposition to my galloway*s disqualifica-
tion, simply stating the facts and admitting a moderate
measure of carelessness, which, under the circum-
stances, I suggested might be excused. Thus, thought
I, the matter ends. But not a bit of it ! Listen to
the sequel ! Such an eminently respectable, if some-
what dull, paper as Land and Water was at that time,
had the impudence to state that I had put Aldridge
up knowing that my colt would be disqualified, and
that I had backed him heavily " first past the post " !

Naturally such an outrageous statement called
for immediate action, and a writ was issued against
the offending paper.

I briefed Sir Robert Findlay, afterwards Lord
Chancellor ; whilst hand and Water was represented
by my friend Sir Charles Russell (who, coincidentally,
became in due course Lord Chief Justice under the
title of Lord Russell of Killowen). Just before the
case was called, Sir Charles greeted me, and we began
discussing some racing matter or other. All of a
sudden he pulled up, exclaiming : " Here, I say,
Cox, why, you are the plaintiff in this libel action
and I am for the defendants. Go away — go away
quickly !

Well, the case was never presented to the jury.

CHASING AND RACING 35

The libellous paper offered a humble apology and
undertook to publish the same, and to pay my costs.
They got ofF cheaply I think 1

A propos this question of professional jockeys, I
regret to say that it was the direct cause of the debacle
of the N.P. and G. Club. During my absence from
town, a meeting was held at which it was decided that
professional jockeys should be allowed to ride at
meetings held under the rules of the club ; thus at
one stroke the whole aim and endeavour of the original
promoters was rendered abortive. Not only was it
obvious that an undesirable type of professional would
monopolize the weighing-room, but that the class of
young aspirants to race-riding fame whom we hoped
would be interested in and support the sport, would
inevitably be choked off. And so it proved ; for
instead of pony racing being lifted to something like
a respectable level, it became more and more decadent.
The N. P. and G. Club ceased to exist, and there seems
no likelihood that the sport will ever be revived, except
in irregular and sporadic fashion. If on the three
occasions quoted I was unjustly suspected of crooked
dealing, I can recall one where appearances were so
black that had a complaint been lodged, I should have
had but a lame defence ; though, needless to say, I
and the other concerned were as innocent as babes
unborn. As in after days on the legitimate turf, so
in pony racing, I was very keen on matching my ponies
against others belonging to friendly rivals. Among

36 CHASING AND RACING

the latter was Harry de Windt, the distinguished
traveller and author, brother to the White Ranee
Brooke of Sarawak. At one time de Windt owned
a mare called Umbrella, who would have been a
worthy opponent for Catona had they been contem-
porary, which they were not. I have mentioned my
first pony, Phyllis ; she was a first rate trapper, and
could gallop above a bit. Harry had a similar ** tit '*
about the same cut and height, so we fixed up a match
for a ** pony " which came off at Gloucester, where a
particularly serpentine course had been — I was going
to say, prepared — but, well, the preparation was of a
most primitive order. Incidentally, I may say that,
being anxious to give a sporting young friend a winning
mount, I actually put him up on Catona in the chief
event, with the result that the mare slipped up at one
of the " impossible " turns. Luckily neither horse
nor rider was hurt, though the latter, like John Jones
of Coven t Garden, ** didn't know where he were '*
for quite half an hour. All he could say was :
" Where's the luncheon basket ? "

But about this match. It was ** three times round
the frying pan and once up the handle " for the mile.
We negotiated the first event quite serenely, keeping
close together, but the second time round, Rosalie,
as de Windt's mount was named, suddenly " ran out,"
and went bird nesting in an adjacent coppice ; so
all I had to do was to jog along at my own sweet
will and so earn easy money.

CHASING AND RACING 37

Phyllis was as handy as you make *em ; but lo
and behold, when negotiating the final round, and
whilst I was complacently regarding my boots, out
she went at the very spot where Rosalie had ** done a
guy'' Harry, meanwhile, was walking his recalci-
trant little jade back to that which was by courtesy
called a paddock ; but seeing what had befallen me,
came back at a hand gallop, and slipped round the
course to complete the mile. I soon had Phyllis
back and in pursuit, but never could get within
striking distance of my opponent. Nobody said
anything, but they looked unutterable things. Well
they " had reason '* as our French friends say ; for
the show was one which asked for criticism of a not
too kindly nature. Anyway I lost my " pony "
(not Phyllis, bad 'cess to her), and was lucky not to
lose my reputation as a dead straight rider for good
and all.

On one occasion I was riding a three-year-
old pony of my own breeding which had not been
tried, and whose back I had never previously be-
stridden. As I was going to the post, a bunch of the
** Boys,'* stood in my way and I had to pull up. I
was thus addressed by their spokesman :

** Look 'ere. Mister blinkin' 'Ardin' Cox, the Boys
'ave all backed yer, and if yer gets up ter any of yer
pullin* gimes, inter Ver 'orse pond yer goes, and don't
yer fergit it ! "

Here was a nice look out, seeing that I had not

38 CHASING AND RACING

the remotest idea as to whether I should win or be
down the course. As matters turned out I was a bad
third. Did I pull up on passing the winning post ?
Not on your life ! I did not stop until I was safe
inside the paddock, and when I left its precincts it
was in the company of a couple of promising heavy-
weights of N.S.C. fame I Nothing doing for the
" Boys " !

I have already explained how my cousin and
brother-in-law, Ted Jaquet played Pythias to my
Damon. Whenever I set to work making a sporting
pie (no matter what the ingredients), the lusty Ted
was sure to have a finger in it ; therefore, it followed
that during the period when I was engaged in pony
racing, he became seized or possessed of two gallant
but rather dickey animals with which to enrich our
string. Futhermore, it now was necessary for him
to register his colours, Black jacket. Gold fieur de lys^
back and front, Gold cap. A very chaste and striking
design ! which I was quite proud to don on the bigger
of my pal's crocks, Winkelman, to wit, a hard-
bitten old fiddle-headed brown, whom long and painful
experience had taught all there was to know about
the game to which he was allocated. His under-
standings and joints were more or less callous, but
if the ground was extra hard he signified his dis-
approval by refusing to gallop a yard. As for
" punishment " he seemed to possess a pachyder-
matous hide utterly impervious to the most strenuous

CHASING AND RACING 39

application of catgut or steel. Even the Embro-
cation's private and most particular dog whip was
despised by this old sinner. But when conditions
were favourable and he felt in the mood he could hop
it to a merry tune, and could stick it out if pressed.
I won on him first time out, and then there came a
day when, in order to support a certain meeting, we
entered the whole string. At that time the lazy
but useful Epsom Embrocation was the bright particu-
lar star of the stable ; but in order to have something
to make running for him in the principal event
Ted entered Winkelman. All the stable money was
on the roan, but the galloways being in different
ownership, of course, no declaration could be made.
There was a matter of seven pounds between the two
in Winkelman's favour, and as the going was on the
soft side, we figured that the old chap would condescend
to carry out his mission, as in duty bound ; but we
little reckoned to what a disastrous purpose. Of
course I was up on my own, whilst the faithful
Tommy Aldridge had the mount on Ted's representa-
tive with orders to jump off and keep in front until I
was prepared to take up the running. There were
five other runners with whose form I was not
acquainted, but judging from a paddock inspection
we came to the conclusion that we commanded the
situation. And so it proved, but not quite in the
fashion anticipated. Tommy followed his instructions
to the letter and I lay up sides with him. It was a

40 CHASING AND RACING

mile race and by the time we had gone six furlongs
the rest of the field was stone cold and Tommy and
I were out by ourselves. Nearing the final bend I
came up to the leader when Tommy turned his head :

** I say, Guv'nor/' he exclaimed, " this old blighter
is full of running, what am I to do ? "

" Why, damn you," I cried, "go on and win,
if you can I *'

All up the straight we ran, neck and neck.
Winkelman was galloping with diabolical and un-
wonted resolution, and the dog whip was stimu-
lating the phlegmatic Embrocation to his utmost
endeavour. He got to the head of his stable com-
panion but no further, and by that small margin we
were defeated ! What a Pyrrhic victory I

** I hope I did right, sir,*' said Tommy, apolo-
getically.

I do not know what answer was expected, but it
was in the affirmative, as Ministers remark when they
want to be terse with an irritating and persistent
questioner in the House.

Obviously this was a tight and desperate finish, but
had Winkelman won easily or even cleverly, no doubt
nasty remarks would have been buzzed about.

Ted's other " tit '' was a well-topped bay pony of
fourteen hands, called Early Morn, but his forelegs
would have outdone the most dilapidated cab horse,
so over at the knee were they. I rode him several
times but do not remember his having borne the

CHASING AND RACING 41

black and gold even into a modest ** place '* ; though
he was an amiable creature and a bit of a " trick "
horse. If bribed with a bit of sugar he would shake
hoof with hand when any of my fair friends so desired.

The Usher and Epsom Embrocation were entire
colts. Both, and more especially The Usher, should
have been invaluable as blood pony stallions. I am
not aware whether either were put to such use, for
I quite lost sight of them when my choice little string
was dispersed. The Usher was one of the handsomest
thoroughbreds, on a miniature scale, that could be
imagined ; and then look at his pedigree (as previously
stated), by a Derby winner (Kisber) and with another
Derby winner (Hermit) as maternal grandsire. What
could be nicer ?

I have not much to say in favour of pony racing
as it was carried on in those days ; but at Hurlingham
and Ranelagh it was a quite enjoyable sport, indulged
in by some of the best sportsmen and riders of the day.

This is where I first came in contact with dear
old ** Charlie ** Beresford. I had had some sharp grit
kicked into my eye during a race and came into the
dressing-room in agony. Beresford, the handy man,
laid me out on a form, turned up my eyelid with a
pencil, and whipped out the painful obstruction. All
done in the shake of a duck*s tail !

The last time I saw his lordship was when fishing
Lord Cork's waters on the Pang. It was a blazing
day in June and there was nothing doing in the

42 CHASING AND RACING

angling line, so we sat down in the shade and dis-
coursed of old times and old pals, many of them gone
ahead. In a few months* time, the cheery companion
of that day passed along.

" Willie *' Hall Walker, who afterwards was
raised to the peerage under the title of Lord Waver-
tree, was an exceptionally fine horseman. I often
wondered that he did not take to riding under legitimate
rules, for he had a beautiful seat, the best of hands
and perfect judgment. His average wins as compared
to mounts was phenomenal. Another fine horseman
was H. C. Bentley whom I have already alluded to
as the pilot of Catona. When it came to the sticks
or steeplechasing, like Walker, he was well equipped
for the sport toward in every particular. He was of a
singularly reserved and rather lofty disposition; he
never showed excitement and seldom smiled, but one
day I saw him fairly disgruntled.

A special race had been provided at Hurlingham
for ponies 13.2 and under. I had nothing of this
height at the time but was keen on having a cut in,
so Jesse Winfield received the usual " office " and
soon reported that he had ** the goods " for me, which
turned out to be a varmint-looking little mare named
Sarah. I had nothing approaching her own size
to try her with, but thought if she could make any
sort of show against Catona at three stone, she would
be pretty useful among the class she would be likely
to meet at Hurlingham ; so I arranged for a spin,

CHASING AND RACING 43

and invited Harry Bentley to come with me to Epsom
(where my ponies were at that time being trained at
Woodcote Lodge) and to ride the champion for a
try out with Sarah.

As it turned out, the little chestnut was no sort of
use to the bonnie brown, who, in Bentley *s skilful
hands, simply played with her. So after going some
six furlongs we made to pull up. Sooner thought
of than done, as far as the sportive Sarah was con-
cerned. I tried every kind of device, but I could not
break the loping gallop into which she had subsided.
She had the snaffle (a bit which I have always loathed)
firmly wedged in her back grinders. When I let
her head loose she dropped it momentarily, but
directly I shortened rein, she had it fixed again. I
thought to take her on to the Derby course and to let
her run herself to a standstill, but I found that the
chains were up, so I had to wrench her right round.
Back she came, easy enough to steer, but impossible
to stop ! I swung her round a coppice on the hill,
where she slipped up and sent me a pretty purler, but
I was not hurt, though delighted to be separated from
the fair Sarah and her irresponsible ways. She had
carried me a good three miles and was now in a black
sweat. My friend Bentley grew sarcastic.

" Why, what's up with you, Cockie }^' he sneered.
" Fancy you not being able to hold a toy like that 1
YouVe been wasting too hard I expect."

" Oh, all right,*' I replied. ** Tou have a go and

44 CHASING AND RACING

see how you like it ! The little beast has taken all
the steel out of herself, but grant her half an hour's
rest and she will give you the time of your life."

Well, my young paragon took me at my word.
No sooner were his bony legs over Sarah than she
was off ! This time straight for Woodcote End,
and soon pony and rider were lost to sight, and as
regards the beastly little pony — by no means to
memory dear ! In half an hour Bentley returned
leading the now thoroughly subdued tit. Nor was
he himself in a particularly lively mood.

" Great Scott ! " he murmured, turning to the
sheepish-looking Jesse. ** Where on earth did you
get hold of this little devil ? Why she has no mouth
at all. Don't you ride her at Hurlingham, Cockie.
If she does not kill you, she will charge the crowd
and fill the local hospital ! "

" Jesse," said I sternly, " take her to the place
from whence she came and never let me see her, or
the likes of her again." And so it was !

Lord Westbury's brother, Guy Bethel, was a
useful little rider, and could go to scale at a nice
weight.

Latham Lutwych had great success on his fourteen-
hand pony, The Boy (a curiously named mare).
He always handled her to perfection. She was as
unbeatable in her class as Catona was among gallo-
ways. H. T. Barclay, the owner of the bold
Bendigo, the predecessor of my filly Dornroschen

:hasing and racing ^45

as holder of the time record for the mile, used occasion-
ally to butt in. Later, like myself, he took up riding
under Jockey Club and National Hunt Rules. A
brilliant man to hounds, he could always do justice
to his mounts.

These are only a few of those who sported silk
at the fashionable club resorts.

There was a terrible mix up at Hurlingham on
one occasion, when the leading pony slipped up in
negotiating a turn ; whereupon practically the whole
field of seven sat down in a heap on the fallen one.
A rider performed a double somersault in the air
and landed on his feet, clear of the struggling mass.
Marvellous to relate, with one exception neither
riders nor ponies were any the worse for the melange^
which was truly horrific and nerve-startling to behold.
The one exception was poor Hanbury who was carried
away in an ambulance — insensible. He soon re-
covered, as no serious injury had accrued. But
relentless Fate was dogging his footsteps ; for, very
shortly afterwards, a horse he was riding (at I.ewes,
I think) ran into a post, and poor Hanbury was killed
on the spot 1

So much for pony racing. Now let us hark back
to more serious business.

CHAPTER IV

A LTHOUGH well placed in our cosy little
/ % maisonette in South Audley Street, my
y m. soul panted for more space and purer
air. A son had been born to me, and
I wanted him brought up amid the glories of Nature ;
moreover, I was keen on some real sport with horse
and hound, rod and gun. Pony racing and pigeon
shooting were all very well in their way. The latter
pastime (which has been falsely accused of posing as
a sport) aroused the competitive spirit which has, from
my earliest days, been one of my most marked charac-
teristics. I may have something to say about my
experiences in this connection later on. For the
moment I will content myself by boldly asserting that
all sport is cruel, and were pigeon shooting a sport,
which it is not, it must be written down as no more cruel
than most gunning activities, and far less than some.

Having seriously contracted this wander-lust I
began my search for a likely pitch, and found it in the
advertisement pages of our time-honoured Field :

** A fine and ancient Abbey with kennels, stabling,
22 bedrooms, standing in its own well-timbered
grounds, with 1500 acres shooting and first-rate

46

CHASING AND RACING 47

trout fishing." These were some of the attractions
offered. Forthwith I sent the faithful Ted on a
voyage of discovery and inspection. His report was
highly favourable. Knowing me for the keen angler
I was and ever will be, as long as I can cast a fly,
my hefty cousin waxed eloquent as to the ** whoppers "
he had seen in the narrows (it was then the spawning
season) of one of the lakelets, fed by a stream named
the Misburn, a little tributary of the Chess.

Without more ado I hied me to the agents, and in
due course found myself fixed up with a three years'
tenancy of Missenden Abbey — furnished. Thither
I removed my lares and penates as quickly as might
be contrived. Then came the absorbing occupation
of stocking it. Horses, ponies, dogs, cats, poultry,
pigeons, rabbits, pigs, cows, and other domestic details,
including guinea-pigs, two monkeys and a grey parrot,
were assembled, and the cry was " Still they come ! "

Those who have seen Missenden Abbey will
have appreciated its beauties. It was a vast place,
stone flagged in its great hall, and therefore inclined
to be so chilly in the autumn and winter months that
my coal bill mounted to colossal figures. It took us
all much time and thought to find our way about the
labrynthine passages and remote quarters. On one
occasion a visitor, noted for the strictness of his virtue
and his purity of thought, nearly forfeited this care-
fully built up reputation by being found at the dead
of night in his pyjamas, trying the door of an equally

48 CHASING AND RACING

straight and rigid maiden. Of course he had lost
his way and made a mistake — of course. But it is
not my metier to enter into a minute description of
this ancient pile and its picturesque and well-timbered
demesne, but rather to chronicle the sports and
pastimes, the spoofs and stunts, which took place within
its venerable walls and its spacious environments.

I have stated that my earliest experience of hunting
was with the Trinity (Cambridge) beagles, when those
distinguished cricket ** blues," George Longman
(late of Eton) and George Macan (a contemporary
of mine at Harrow) were joint masters.

But when I came down, and whilst yet my dear
old dad was alive, I got together a motley pack at
Moat Mount, with which I essayed to harry the timid
hare ; but that useful rodent was exceeding scarce
in those parts, and it was only occasionally that a
mournful sequence of blank days was relieved by a
find, and then my "jelly dogs,'* including the lame,
the halt, and the blind, would string out and disperse,
each one doing a bit of hunting on his or her own,
and not being at all particular as to whether the hare
hit on was that of the fugitive le-pus^ or of the common
and odoriferous coney. But I did have a real good
chivvy one fine day. Most unexpectedly, a fine old
Jack hare was bustled out of a dry ditch and then the
fun began ! Our quarry seemed to enjoy the sport
and kept ringing around and giving us a kindly view
of his russet fur, whenever scent failed and my

CHASING AND RACING 49

vagabonds were at fault. Now as this occurred on the
Sabbath, and the Sunday-school children ran amok
to join the gay throng, there was a wailing and gnashing
of teeth among the ** unco' guid *' of the village, who
formed a deputation imploring ** The Dads " to put
a stop to my desecration of the Lord's Day. This he
did — diplomatically ; and as by this time I had used
up every hare within a radius of many miles, but never
accounted for one, and as my precious beagles (so called)
were by now quite beyond my control, I graciously
condescended to abandon my " country '* and put down
my ** pack,'* after having selected three couples of the
most persistent " bunny busters " to act as aids to the
gun ; a duty which be it said to their credit they per-
formed with becoming zest and efficiency. The gun
was used, not with, but on, the rest, by a callous hire-
ling, and I tried to forget that I ever owned them. But
the spirit of Nimrod burnt brightly within me. No
sooner were Ted and I installed with our respective
wives and offspring in the Abbey, than we set about
forming a harrier pack to hunt a rather apochryphal
country long since abandoned, if indeed it had ever
existed. At first there was a deal of squealing on the
part of the Committee of the Old Berkeley (West)
Foxhounds ; but the farmers were dead keen on this
addition to the sporting attractions of the neighbour-
hood, and when I gave a firm undertaking to keep my
** jelly dogs " remote from all the well-established fox
coverts, our little venture was tolerated. I had to

£

50 CHASING AND RACING

gather together what hounds I could ; consequently,
to begin with, we had rather a mixed lot ; but among
them some really first-class material. As for the
horses, I managed to pick up some useful tits. For my
own riding, I hied me to Belhus, where that eccentric,
but kind and cheery little old sportsman, Sir Thomas
Lennard, was holding one of his annual sales. As
usual, Ted had been there in advance and had seen
Tom Collar, the stud groom, perform prodigies of
valour on certain desirable hunters. Now in those days
I had a theory, which later I abandoned. It was that
if a weight-carrier could shoulder a sixteen-stone man
comfortably, he would simply fly over his fences and
gallop his field to a standstill when he had only eleven
stone (my hunting weight) on his back. My acquaint-
ance with the ways and wiles of the thoroughbred as
represented by the rollicking blood ponies I had ridden
led me to distrust the whole race. When it comes to
carrying the horn and hunting one*s hounds, one does
not want to have head and hands occupied with an
impatient and fiery bit of blood. So I went for hairy-
heeled specimens, of solid build, who could both
gallop and jump.

Well, I got hold of some wonderful performers at
Belhus, to wit. Yeoman, a chestnut of cob build who
could jump anything. If he could not do it in once,
" he could manage it in seven," as " Rock '' (Lord
Cholmondeley) once observed. At timber he was a
marvel, but he had a way of coming right under the

CHASING AND RACING 51

obstacle, pausing a moment, and then of lifting himself,
all fours at once; and even so, he invariably cleared with-
out a rap. The first time I rode him at a five-barred
gate, I was not prepared for this sort of thing. Conse-
quently I was jerked out of the saddle, and sent an
imperial toss which left me guessing ; but next time
I was ready, and on one occasion, in the Vale of
Aylesbury, I bet that I would take Yeoman over three
full-sized five-barred gates in a line, and that he would
not touch one of them. I won the wager all right.
But this charming little chestnut was troubled with
the slows. He was good enough for the ** red
currant '* business, but when it came to hunting the
wily red-skin he was apt to be like the proverbial cow's
tail — ** all behind," — a very unbecoming position for
the huntsman master I So after much heart-burning
and perturbation of mind I sold Yeoman to a pal, Tom
Farries, partner of that peerless sportsman and prince
of gentlemen, " Uncle Punch *' Burbidge, and right
well did the beloved cob carry his new owner.

I have a different story to tell of another of my
Belhus purchases, to wit, one Melbury, a rich
brown, standing quite 16.2. He came originally from
the West country, and was the offspring of a Queen's
Premium stallion travelling in that district. I have no
exact information regarding his dam ; but was told she
was " a van mare." She may herself have had a blood
cross, but undoubtedly she also had the bar sinister ;
for Melbury was inclined to be a bit hairy about

52 CHASING AND RACING

the heels, and was built on modified shire lines, though
he had grand shoulders and was not fiddle-headed.
This was the very best hunter I ever rode. He was a
magnificent fencer, and never put a foot wrong. He
would take anything his head was set to, yet never •
rushed an obstacle. He had a perfect mouth, delight-
ful manners, and gave a firm but easy feel. He had
the sweetest of temperaments. Moreover, he had a
fair turn of speed and, at one time, could stay for ever,
though latterly I fancy his heart became affected. It
was a big one that never gave way until Nature gave
out. I rode him twice a week with the harriers and,
subsequently, three days a fortnight with the O.B.H.

I was on his back on the momentous occasion when,
for the first time, I appeared as Master of the last-
named, time-honoured pack, in all the glory of the
**buff" (really canary) livery, at the opening meet,
surrounded by my beloved hounds.

But I am anticipating, though I may as well state
here and now that as I rode Melbury on the first
day of my mastership, so he was my mount on the last
day thereof, and in the interim I had never been off his
back, except when I so willed it. He had never made
even the semblance of a mistake. The day which was
to close my association with the O.B.H. was to end the
life of my bonnie brown hunter. I had changed
horses in the middle of the day and, on my return after
having kennelled my pack, I was met at the door of my
home (then Chorley Wood House) by my valet Bedford.

CHASING AND RACING 53

I saw that there was something wrong, as he wore a
very serious look.

** I have bad news for you, sir ! "

** Out with it, man " (I had a mysterious intuition).
" Something's the matter with Melbury ? "

** He's gone, sir."

" Dead ? *'

" Yes, sir ; when George (George White, my second
horseman) got him home, Melbury was seized with
gripes or something and was cast in his box. Before
we could get the vet, it was all over.'*

A tragedy indeed, and under the circumstances,
painfully dramatic.

Now to hark back to my "jelly dogs."

Shortly after I had begun hunting the proble-
matical Missenden country, I received a communica-
tion from Mr. Cripps, Q.C., of Parmoor, near Marlow,
asking if I would care to take over his harrier country.
He was then over eighty years of age, and though hale
and hearty, he confessed that he did not feel equal to
carrying on with the Hambleden Vale pack. At his
invitation I went over to Parmoor with the ever-ready
Ted, on a voyage of discovery. We were most
hospitably received, and had an opportunity of witness-
ing the work of the harriers, a very level and useful
little lot, hunted by a charming old fellow, William
Snaith, of low stature and high voice, who consented
to come with the pack and to act as kennel huntsman.
Tom him I had many a useful wrinkle which served

54 CHASING AND RACING

me in good stead in the outwitting of the tricky and
elusive hare. When I took on the O.B.H. this worthy
became my coachman and stud groom. At Parmoor
I met the Cripps family, the eldest of whom, when
raised to the peerage, took the name of his residence for
his title. The second son Harrison, with whom I
struck up a pleasant friendship, became a celebrated
surgeon, and being an enthusiastic salmon fisher as
well as an all-round sportsman we had much in
common.

With the Hambleden Vale pack and my own to
choose from, I was able to select the best hounds from
each and draft the surplus ; so that I now had a level,
handsome lot of workers to represent the amalgam^ated
** Missenden and Hambleden Vale Harriers." In
connection with this drafting I have a strange tale to
tell, which illustrates to a remarkable degree the
homing instinct possessed by the canine race.

Two couples and a half of my draft I sent to a
brother M.H. in Wales, as being an inch below my
standard (i8 ins.). They were coupled up and placed
in the guard's van, which was closed in so that they
could not possibly see the country through which they
were passing. They were safely delivered, but the
following day I received a wire from my friend which
ran : " Your hounds broken kennel and disappeared.
Please make inquiries your end.'*

For three days nothing was heard of the truants,
but on the evening of the third, the K.H. was aroused

CHASING AND RACING 55

>™ dismal whining outside the kennels and a devil
of a rumpus within. Quickly throwing on some
garments he sallied forth to find a couple and a half of
the draft that had been sent to Wales at the door of the
kennel in a pitiable state. They were nothing but
skin and bone, and the pad of every foot was raw or
blistered. One of these poor, faithful creatures, a
bitch appropriately named Truelove, was at her
last gasp, and in spite of unremitting attention she
passed away ; whilst it was weeks before the survivors
regained anything like condition. As for the missing
couple, nothing was ever seen or heard of them again ;
their fate was a mystery. Needless to say that Pilot
and his brother Pieman were not sent back to
Wales. I preferred to refund the cheque for which
they had been exchanged, and to overlook their want
of an inch in height.

Verily we of the M, and H.V.H. had a merry time.
In addition to the venerable and squeaky Snaith I had
three others in the green livery to whip in to me, viz.
the inevitable Ted Jaquet, and my brothers-in-law,
Ronald and Wilfred Barlow, neither of whom had
previously had experience of equestrian exercise ; but
they took to it like ducks to water, and soon became
efficient and helpful horsemen, though at first they bit
the dust with monotonous regularity. Their sisters,
Miriam and " Freddie," were even more enthusiastic,
and shaped so well in their apprenticeship with the
boys in green that in later days, when following " the

S6 CHASING AND RACING

bufFj" they were looked upon as the finest horsewomen
of the O.B.H. As long as the supply of fur held out
we could always be sure of showing first-rate sport ;
especially in that part of the country which included
the grass lands of the Aylesbury Vale. Here was a
gallant race of hares. If and when found, puss, after
one ring, would go straight off to the Chiltern Hills,
sometimes giving us a burst of over two miles, cut
short on some occasions by a ** worry worry " ; for my
little jelly dogs could hop it to a lively tune when scent
was propitious or when they could race away, close to
the scut.

But there came a time when the numbers of the
quarry became smaller and smaller, and unbeautifully
less, for this was in the days when the effect of " the
Ground Game Act '* was beginning to make itself
unpleasantly obvious.

So there were occasions when even the keen eye
of Jack Westrup, and his intimate knowledge of the
ways and wiles of " Madam *' failed us. Blank days
were all too frequent, and at last I was driven to the
purchase of a hard-bitten stag, to vary the monotony
and to give our farmer friends and other followers a
bit of a gallop. Personally I hold no brief for stag-
hunting in any shape or form. Least of all the hunting
of the so-called "wild" beast by the Devon and
Somerset S.H. I have heard those cranks who want
to differentiate between the degrees of cruelty entailed
in the pursuit of field sports say sententiously, " I can

CHASING AND RACING 57

understand the hunting of the wild stag on Exmoor,
that is true sport ; but to chase a poor deer, released
from a cart, until it dies of exhaustion, drowns itself, or
is impaled on a spiked paling, I call it, not sport, but
diabolical brutality/' Which, of course, is a betrayal
of crass ignorance such as is to be expected from those

f who, after inserting a wedge to eliminate sports — the
cruelty of which is obvious to the man in the street —
are bent on driving it home, until our primitive sporting
instincts are entirely exorcised, and we become a nation
of sentimental degenerates.

Now what is the truth about these two forms of stag-
hunting ? The wild stag is pig fat and has the burden
of his antlers to carry. He is chevied out of his native
fastness by " the tufters,'' and having been allowed what

' is considered sufficient law, the pack is laid on, and
never leaves the line until the quarry sinks in what he
imagines to be a friendly stream, or takes to the open
sea. In the first case, he is lassoed ; in the other he is
" taken '* by boat. In either case his throat is slit.
The country will not admit of riding to hounds as fox-
hunters understand the term. There is no fencing
and precious little excitement. Now for the hunting
of the carted deer. He is in as perfect condition as a

B trained race-horse. He has been deprived of his head
honours, and is fit to run, not for his life, but to give the
hounds (whom he knows and fears not) and the field a
good run for their money. When he is tired of the
journey and feeling fed up with the sport, he looks out

58 CHASING AND RACING

for a convenient stable or farm building. Then he
calmly awaits the arrival of the pack and its attendants
with a comfortable conveyance to take him back to his
paddock, where he will have an excellent repast, and
sleep the sleep of the just. I remember on one occasion
hunting with the Queen's when a thick mist descended.
My faithful Ted and I got lost, but chanced across
some of the stragglers of the royal pack. Keeping
close to their sterns we were half across a twenty-acre
field when we came up with the main body, who had
their stag at bay in the open. The latter was quietly
browsing, what time an enthusiastic hound or two,
venturing too near, would be contemptuously but not
ungently ** hoofed '* away by the stag. We had
visions of a ghastly tragedy and " a poor, hunted victim
being torn to tatters by the ferocious pack " ; so we
were prepared to do battle to avert the catastrophe,
but nothing happened, and presently Goodall and his
merry men came up and relieved us of our responsibility.
I never did much hunting with the D. and S. Three
days was enough for me, but on the last I had an
experience which falls to the lot of very few, yea, even
of those who, season after season, have devoted them-
selves to stumbling and plunging over the picturesque
banks, trees, burns, and bogs of Exmoor. I had been
told that the tip was to hire a local gee, used to the
game, and by no manner of means to bring my own
fox-catchers for the job, so I went to the well-known
job-master White, of Minehead, and told him what I

CHASING AND RACING 59

wanted. Seeing that I was a light weight with some
sort of reputation as a gentleman rider he showed me a
pretty Httle chestnut blood mare about fifteen hands,
and assured me she was " It *' for the purpose toward.

Well, when I accompanied Mr. Bassett to the
tufting stunt, I stood at the corner of the big Cloutsham
covert all agog ; whilst the old hounds were ** chowk-
ing " away and driving the stag into the open. By-
and-by there was an awful crashing in the under-
growth, and out burst an animal, which to my startled
eyes appeared about the dimensions of a No. i full-
sized elephant. Moreover, he carried, as far as I could
see, " royal '* honours. Not that I had much oppor-
tunity of counting the tines, for Daisy, the little lady
who bore me, and who might have been supposed to
be acquainted with stags in all their glory, was so
startled by the sudden apparition that she reared up on
end and fell backwards, but luckily without imposing
her weight on my recumbent form. As soon as I had
regained my breath and the saddle I began to exploit
my very best " View Halloas.*' Presently the master
rode up.

" Good God, Cox, what has happened ? Are you
hurt ? "

" Hurt ? No ! '*

** Then what's all the row about ? "

" Why! " yelled I, all excitement, ** a big beast has
gone clear away over the open. If you get the pack
I can put you straight on the line."

6o CHASING AND RACING

" My poor friend," sighed Bassett indulgently,
" don*t excite yourself ; there's heaps of time. We'll
take up the tufters and go and have a bite and a
glass."

" But are you not going to hunt the stag ? Surely
he's one of the right sort ? "

** Of course, my good fellow, all in good time.
In twenty minutes we will get a move on. Come
along."

A strange proceeding, but I had to be content.

In due course the pack was laid on, and the gay
throng crowded after. Daisy could gallop a bit and
was handy, so I soon threaded my way to the front
rank. The hounds broke over the heather-clad moor.
I was now close up with them and highly pleased with
myself. I looked round; I was the one lonely horse-
man on the open expanse. Huntsmen, master, whips,
and the field had disappeared as if the ground had
opened and swallowed them up, which a moment later
it did in my case. The little chestnut turned turtle
and I was sent flying — an interesting performance which
she repeated before another half mile had been covered.
In both cases she had come to grief over a boulder
hidden in the heather. I thought these native tits
knew all about such lethal traps; it seemed not. The
hounds were now well ahead and sinking a deep and
precipitous nullah or chine. They crossed the Barle
and streamed away, up the opposite slope. I was
pounded fairly and squarely. No more hounds or stag

CHASING AND RACING 6i

for me that day. When I took Daisy back to White, I
inquired as to why she had been so acrobatic.

" Well," said the genial dealer, " you see, sir, she's
a bit new to the country, she only came down from
Tattersairs day before yesterday.**

" But you didn*t tell me that ? **

" Well, no sir, she was the only nag I had free, and
I didn't want to disappoint you. Besides, you being,
so to speak, a bit of a horseman, I thought you would
fall light."

** Oh, thank you very much — and so forth I "

Next time out I had a good hunter mare provided
for me.

" She pulls a bit. Captain Cox, but you won't mind
that," said the head lad.

" Oh, won't I, but I do! I simply loathe pullers ;
but as it's Norah or nothing I suppose I must have a
dart."

And she did start pulling, but I was able to keep
her enthusiasm within reasonable bounds, so that, by the
end of the day she was quite handy. I had the privi-
lege of following a farmer who knew every inch of the
moor, and though I never caught sight of hounds until
the kill, I had the doubtful pleasure of seeing the stag
roped out of the river Barle and slaughtered.

My third and last day found Norah booked for no
less a personage than my friend and brother ** rider "
Roddy Owen, prince of horsemen and best of good
fellows. But this time the dealer had a real nice blood

62 CHASING AND RACING

mare called The Duchess for me. Roddy and I,
having been lost in the run, chanced upon one another
a mile or so outside Minehead. We were jogging
along quietly when suddenly we became aware that
hounds were running in the vicinity. Presently the
hunted stag bounded on to the road and down it, with
the leading hounds, on a hot line, not three hundred
yards behind. As soon as they appeared on the
macadam the stag flew the palings of Dyke Acland's
Park and, landing on the turf, sped straight across the
open. The whole pack followed suit. We galloped
to the lodge gates and entered the park just in time to
see a really unique performance ; for the hounds got a
view of the quarry and racing him down on the smooth
turf, howled him over in the open^ as foxhounds would
the little red rover. Whilst the obsequies were being
performed by the huntsman (a namesake of mine)
Roddy and I stood by. I was taking a pull at the flask
he had thoughtfully handed to me ; whilst he was
lighting a cigar.

Suddenly, without warning, The Duchess gave
a piercing squeal and bounded into the air, all fours at
once, sending me flying skyward, and took to her heels.
There I sat, in a state of disgruntlement, whilst Roddy
was seized with a merriment which threatened to
develop into apoplexy. He was enjoying himself too
acutely to be capable of articulation. But whilst at
the acme of enjoyment, the sprightly Norah gave
a first-class imitation of Her Grace the Duchess's

CHASING AND RACING 6^

evolution, and in a moment Roddy was seated beside
me, whilst his mare galloped off to join the other
deserter.

** Who the ? What the ? " began the

fallen hero of a hundred races ; then, ** Here, I say,
damn it all, Cockie, we're sitting on a wasps' nest !
Run for your life,** and we did.

The mystery was solved. Both our mares had
been stung.

So much for stag hunting. I am glad to be quit
of it, although Ted has a glorious tale to tell of
how, when I was away endeavouring to catch the
judge's eye at Sandown, Bibury, or some such venue
where owners, trainers, gees, and riders of sorts most
do congregate, a message had come down from H.M.'s
Huntsman to say that a deer had been left in our
neighbourhood and would the M. and H.V.H. kindly
take it, or hunt it home. Here was a gala gaiety for
my cousin, who wired me for leave to proceed. My
reply was " Carry on ! " They found the outlying
beast all right, and according to His Nibs, he hunted
it from early morn to dewy eve, nine mortal hours on
end, and were only defeated by the sombre shades of
night. Bully for Ted, but no more hare harrying for
me for a fortnight, with 25 per cent, of my precious
"jelly dogs " still on the sick list !

Those who like it, may stick to their stag hunting.
What is one man's meat is another man's poison.

CHAPTER V

JUST a few more words that touch on pony
racing, inasmuch as Missenden witnessed
a celebration which excited much local
interest. We had not been long established
at the ancient Abbey before a brain wave struck us.
Why not get up a meeting of " the miniatures " .'' No
sooner thought of than carried out by the genius of
organization possessed by Ted. One adjacent field
lent itself tolerably well to the venture, and all went
swimmingly. My friends of the cult rallied to the
call nobly, and we had quite a representative entry.
Among those who patronized the meeting being J. B.
(" Bur\ny ") Leigh, " Gratty ** Blagrave, and one
Charlie A' Court, afterwards known in the Great War
as " Eye Witness *' otherwise Col. C. A. Repington,
whose " Reminiscences '* afterwards created such a
flutter in the social dove-cotes. These were not the
days of Catona, Etna, Epsom Embrocation & Co. ;
but that useful mare of all work, Phyllis, nobly
represented the home string, and what is more, helped
me to lift a couple of races.

There was an event open only to horses ridden by

patrons of the M. and H.V.H., in which I had entered

64

CHASING AND RACING 65

the trusty Yeoman, relying on his undoubted prowess
as a lepper to do me honour, despite his woeful lack of
speed. Certainly he jumped the far from formidable
obstacles brilliantly, but he was outpaced at the finish
by a gee, ridden by his owner, an enthusiastic supporter
of my harriers, of the name of Ackerman. This one
had not figured prominently in the betting, since all and
sundry had been obsessed with the false impression that
the steed was a mare heavy in foal ; whereas it turned
out to be a gelding with a " Little Mary ** distended by
a too liberal diet of grass. The rest of the field either
fell down, ran out, jumped their riders off, or pulled
up suddenly in order, I suppose, to reserve their
energies for a more fitting occasion, or to browse on
the rather profuse herbage.

" Gratty " Blagrave was supposed to have a red-hot
rod in pickle for the great event of the card, but for
some reason or other the good thing came unstuck. Oh
yes, taken all in all it was a merry and genial day's
leather flapping.

Ted's report anent the leviathan trout was in no
way exaggerated. I watched the ponderous fish as
they disported themselves on the ** redds " and longed
for the day, when well " mended," they should reseek
the lakelets and condescend to take notice of my artful
lures.

A favourable day in March prompted me to make
an early attack ; but I fished the whole stretch of the
waters without response until, on my return, something

e^ CHASING AND RACING

in the way of an angler's intuition induced me to
present a " February red," at the head of the pool
nearest the manse. I cast well out and sure enough
there was a lusty boil, my rod bent and my reel sang
as the line was run out half across the expanse. When
safely netted the fish proved to be a nice trout of close
on three pounds, in very fair condition, considering the
time of year. Urged on by this success I tried the
whole stretch again, but nothing of note happened.
In April, May, and June, I had some fine sport with
the rod. One fine evening during the last-named
month of roses, taking with me young Andrew Lime-
house (who afterwards became head lad in my greyhound
kennels) as a sort of piscatorial caddy, I repaired to a
deep stream which connected the penultimate with the
furthest pond. The night before I had seen many
big fellows cruising up the far bank, feeding freely,
and I had made up my mind to a mighty raid as soon
as the sun should set. When I arrived no bulges or
swirls disturbed the placid surface, so I sat down,
lighted my pipe, and waited patiently. The fish were
tardy in making their approach obvious. It was not
until a rising moon glinted on the water that Andrew
touched me on the arm and pointed to where silvery
rings were breaking and spreading close under the
opposite bank. Hurriedly I affixed a medium-sized
" coachman '* and measured my cast so that the fly
should drop right under the overhanging ledge. Wait-
ing until the feeding fish came within comfortable reach

CHASING AND RACING 67

I dropped the white-winged lure a foot in front of his
nose. He had it in a moment and I was fast in a good
one. After putting up a strenuous fight he gave in
and came to the net, deftly handled by Andrew, 2 J lbs.
— a good start ! It was now almost dark, but there
was a luminous patch where the moon*s rays struck, in
the centre of which I religiously placed my fly. Fish
after fish came to it, and to cut a long story short, I
creeled four and a half brace of beauties ; the biggest
3I lbs., and not one under i| lbs. Then I strolled
home, happy and triumphant, only to find that my
friends and my guests, after giving me half an hour*s
law, had fallen upon the flesh-pots like a swarm of
locusts, leaving me only the husks of the feast to satisfy
a gargantuan appetite. Moreover, my CO., instead of
sympathizing with and extolling my skill with the
angle, read me the Riot Act, and ticked me off severely
for my negligence in vacating the head of the table in
favour of " a few wretched trout," which I could catch
at any time. What a lack of understanding ! And
yet some admirers of the sex are good to maintain that
the sporting instinct is as strong in women as in the
mere male, if but given a fair chance !

Now, as it happened these same trout proved
our undoing, and brought to an untimely and
undesired end our delightful occupation of Missenden
Abbey. It was in this wise. It seems that the
Misburn, the little stream that ran through, and linked
up the chain of lakelets, had a nasty habit of drying up

68 CHASING AND RACING

every seven years, because, so it was stated, the springs
which formed its source in the Chiltern Hills, failed.
These springs were in the vicinity of Chequer's Court,
then occupied by Mr. (afterwards Lord) Lee of Fare-
ham, who so generously bestowed the ancient home on
the nation, to serve as a residence for Britain's Prime
Ministers. Many a good run had I from there in
after days with the O.B.H. But that is another story.
Well, it so happened that the periodical drought was
due toward the second year of my tenancy. With a
punctuality which was hardly appreciated, the flow
grew less and less, until it became a mere dribble.
Then it ceased altogether ; and consequently, the
ponds became lower and lower, and the water so
stagnant that the fish fell sick and began to turn on
their backs. Anon there were only a few isolated pools
overcrowded with dying trout. The stench was
becoming unendurable and the whole place rendered
uninhabitable. What was to be done ? An applica-
tion to the agent of the owner met with a dilatory and
highly unsatisfactory response. No time was to be
lost. I wrote to the Marlow Angling Association to
send over water carts, for the conveyance of surviving
fish to the Thames. The invitation was promptly
accepted, and close on two hundred trout were released
in Marlow weir pool. Then we packed up and
emigrated, bag and baggage. But we were not to be
allowed to depart in peace. A writ was issued claiming
heavy damages, the principal item being the value of

CHASING AND RACING 69

fish *' wrongfully ** taken from the ** water " (save the
mark !) and ** improperly '* placed in the Thames.
When the case came into court I paid in what I con-
sidered to be a fair compromise, arguing that, if I had
left the fish to die, it would not only have been a cruel
and unsportsmanlike proceeding, but might well have
caused a dangerous epidemic in the neighbourhood, and
that, as it was, we had been deprived of reasonable and
undisturbed occupation. The answer was that the
drying up of the Misburn was due to ** the hand of
God," and that the owner was therefore not responsible.

Then I played my trump card. Cross-examination
of the plaintiff elicited the admission that the peculiar
habit of the stream of drying up every seven years was
a known and well-recognized fact ; that such drought
was due in the middle of my tenancy was obvious, but
that I had not been warned by either the said plaintiff
or his accredited agent. Then the learned judge took
a hand in the game and strongly advised my adversary's
counsel to take, on behalf of his client, that which I had
magnanimously paid into court whilst he could get it ;
adding that, in his lordship's opinion, plaintiff must
be accounted uncommonly lucky to have the oppor-
tunity of so doing.

This was a woeful ending to a really glorious time.
There had been always something doing at the Abbey ;
hunting, shooting, fishing, dog breeding, breaking and
exhibiting ; crowds of good sportsmen as guests,
village entertainments, dramatic and otherwise ; hunt

70 CHASING AND RACING

suppers and elaborate practical jokes of a highly enter-
taining but harmless nature.

Several young couples, meeting for the first time
under our roof, became mutually enamoured, and
either sought the altar, where they were condemned to
bondage until death or the Divorce Court should
release them, or until one or other of the betrothed
found that their choice of the moment was but a will
o* the wisp — the empty shade of an ideal — which had
subsequently melted into nothingness ; and so pulled
up and unhitched just in time !

I have mentioned that during my third season as
Master of the M. and H.V.H. hares had been so scarce
that I was in despair ; consequently, after much heart-
burning, I made up my mind to allow the Hunt to
lapse.

It was at this juncture that Austen Mackenzie of
Taplow Court, Henley, having been offered the Wood-
land Pytchly, sent in his resignation as Master of the
O.B.H. (West). At the same time Mr. Longman,
who had, for many seasons, hunted the East Division
of the country, unhappily found his eyesight failing
him ; so he, too, announced to his committee that he
would not carry on after the close of the season. Now
it so happened that one of the best friends I ever had
was " Fred '* Burbidge, whom we dubbed " Uncle
Punch,'* because of his supposed resemblance (in face
only) to that hump-backed humorist. He and his
wife resided at Micklefield, near Chorleywood. I had

CHASING AND RACING 71

become acquainted with him when, just after I had
come down from Trinity, I inaugurated the Fox
Terrier Club ; for he was an enthusiastic breeder and
exhibitor of this most charming of the smaller canine
breeds. Later on I hope to have something to say
about this industry and pleasant hobby, but I am now
on the hunting lay ; though it is convenient here and
now to remind all and sundry that Fred Burbidge was
one of the very best all round " sports " of ** the old
brigade." He was a member of the early " All
England Cricket XI," and could hold his own at any
game. As a boxer, he was practically supreme at his
weight — that which is now styled " light heavy," or
perhaps ** cruiser " — and was a skilled cuest. He and
"Aunty Emmy," his better half — an accomplished
horsewoman, though somewhat handicapped by rheu-
matoid arthritis — often patronized the M. and H.V.H.,
and he it was who now approached the committees of
the two O.B.H. divisions with the suggestion that
they should amalgamate, and that the mastership of
the whole country should be offered to my unworthy
self.

A meeting was convened at the Euston Hotel,
which I was invited to attend. A long conference was
held, the while I cooled my heels in the passage. At
last " Uncle Punch," who held an unofficial brief on
my behalf, came out.

" Cockie," he began, " the committee wants to
know whether, in the case of its deciding to offer you

72 CHASING AND RACING

the Mastership, you propose to carry the horn
yourself ? "

** Why, of course," I replied; " that is the beginning
and end of my ambition, a brass-bound sine qua

nonr

" Do you want to be a really popular Master ? "

" Why, certainly ! "

** Then, my Cockie, if you will take my advice you
will employ a professional huntsman.**

" Nothing doing, uncle ! I would as soon allow a
servant to handle my hounds as a keeper to shoot my
pheasants or a gillie to play and land my salmon."

" Is that what I am to tell the committee ? If so,
old chap, I am afraid they will turn you down.'*

** Let them," I said. ** I have no desire whatever
for the social kudos which attaches to the M.F.H. I
am out to show sport and incidentally to enjoy it
myself. I have served a useful apprenticeship with the
"jelly dogs," and I flatter myself I have enough brains
and initiative to tackle the other game. I know that I
have much to learn, and that it will take time before
I am really efficient ; but I tell you what. Uncle
Punch, tell them that I am willing to engage a pro-
fessional to act as kennel huntsman and to ride in my
pocket until I feel my feet, so to speak. If the com-
mittee will accept this compromise I am content,
otherwise it's all off ! "

And they did accept. For why ? They were
cornered and had no other card up their sleeve.

CHASING AND RACING 73

And now came the problem of the pack. It is
true that Mr. Longman was willing to sell his little lot
en bloc ; but from what I had seen of them I was not
greatly impressed. Moreover, I considered the figure
quoted to be much too inflated. Austen Mackenzie
was taking his pack with him to Brigstock, where, some
time previously, I had spent happy days with Lord
Lonsdale and his sporting friends and relatives when
he was hunting the Woodland Pytchley country. The
Lowther family is linked up with the de Fonblanques —
my mother was a daughter of the judge of that ilk — by
marriage ; but I became acquainted with the ubiqui-
tous and popular Earl through our mutual love of a
good terrier. At Lowther Castle a famous old strain
had been fostered for generations ; but through ** in
breeding," or some other cause, it had deteriorated.
His lordship, having heard that I was something of an
expert in this line, wrote me an interesting letter telling
me all about his strain, and asking my advice as to its
regeneration and betterment ; whereupon I offered to
send him, to Brigstock, a coupled of stud dogs which
could be used as occasion might require. An invita-
tion to visit the hunting box followed, and a very happy
and interesting time I had of it. The Earl had
married Lady Grace Gordon, sister of the then Marquis
of Huntley. She was a sporting enthusiast, and so
were her sisters. Lady Maggie Gore, Lady Elena
Wickham, Lady Ethel Wickham, and their respective
husbands ; whilst her brothers. Lords Esme and

74 CHASING AND RACING

Granville Gordon, were beaux garfons, and good all
round sportsmen.

What Hugh Lonsdale does not know about fox-
hounds and the breeding and hunting thereof is, to use
a vulgarism, not worth knowing. For hours after the
others had retired to rest I would, metaphorically
speaking, sit at his feet garnering knowledge, which
later on served me in good stead. So it was from my
noble friend that I sought advice when the question of
acquiring a pack to hunt the O.B.H. country arose.
My appeal met with a ready response ; for when we
met, he informed me that he had arranged with Mr.
(afterwards Viscount) Chaplin /o /end me his Blankney
hounds. This was indeed a godsend ! I called on
the Minister of Agriculture that was to be at Suther-
land House, St. James*, which had been lent him by
his brother-in-law, the Duke. I was received in the
kindest manner, and the Squire of Blankney gave me
details and many useful hints as to the merits of the
hounds and the lines on which he had gone in breeding
them. It seems that my friend Lonsdale had taken
unto himself the pick of the bitch pack, but there were
some useful hounds in the mixed lot left over ; quite
sufficient for my purposes, and forming a nucleus from
which, with various couples picked up at auction, would
enable me to get together a level pack in the course of
time. The young dog entry, which his lordship had
not touched, contained some first-class hounds, bred
from Belvoir and Broklesby strains, judiciously blended

CHASING AND RACING 75

with the blood of Lord Portsmouth's Sailor. All this
took place during my last summer at Missenden
Abbey. Then another problem presented itself. What
kennels were available ? This was solved by the
kindness of Lord Carrington of Wycombe Abbey, who
placed at my disposal those which had long fallen into
disuse, but which were in tolerable repair, and
situated close to his lordship's stables. So now I was
fairly fixed up and launched upon the duties and
responsibilities which I had so lightly shouldered.
Another piece of luck came my way, as Lord Chesham
of Latimer, the Master of the Bicester, passed on to me
his kennel huntsman, William Wilson, who proved a
perfect treasure, and a mentor on whose advice I could
always implicitly rely.

CHAPTER VI

THE cubbing season proved an excellent
apprenticeship, enabling me to become
familiar with the country and to bring the
hounds to hand in workmanlike fashion.
This last I found a labour of love, for I have always
flattered myself that a mutual understanding exists
between the canine race and myself. I was assiduous
in my attention to kennel work, and soon became on
most affectionate terms with its inmates ; so that when
the regular season opened I was able to make a very
decent showing, as amateur huntsmen go ; though
there were not wanting those who, possessing voices
out of all proportion to their knowledge and experience,
voted me slow, and put down the alleged fault to the
influence of my hare-hunting amenities. But I took no
heed and " ganged my gait *' gaily enough. My game
was, and always has been, to hunt my quarry, be it fox
or hare, fairly and squarely, and not to lift my hounds,
simply for the purpose of affording my followers a
spurious race over the country.

About this time, the time-honoured Curraghmore

pack, hunted by the late Lord Waterford, came under

76

CHASING AND RACING 77

the hammer. I managed to secure three and a half
couples of the glorious bitches. Blanche, Lady Water-
ford had long been disabled from hunting, but her
interest in the celebrated pack never waned, and it was
a sad day, as she informed me, when it was dispersed.
She wrote me a charming letter entering into minute
details concerning each bitch that had so fortunately
come into my possession ; heartening me by her
congratulations on my having secured the flower of
the pack. Indeed, these bitches proved of inestimable
value, not only in the field, but in the harem. It is
generally agreed that it takes even a knowledgeable
houndman at least seven years to produce a good and
level pack from draft stock, however well bred ; but
at the end of my third season it was freely
admitted, by some of the shrewdest houndsmen and
huntsmen in the kingdom, that I had got together
as smart a little lot as any enthusiast might wish to
follow.

The combined divisions of the Hunt which I had
taken over presented physical features of great variety ;
consequently a distinct type of hound was required for
each. To meet the situation I divided my hounds into
three sections, (i) The big dog hounds ; (2) the big
bitches and smaller dog hounds mixed ; and (3) the
little bitches ; sometimes drawing from the tally of
each, hounds which were of approximate inches to the
larger or smaller ones, as the case might be, in the
other sections. Thus I found that the big dog hounds

78 CHASING AND RACING

were the most suitable to the great, straggling woodlands
of the West. They were steadier and would be always
nosing forward without faltering ; whereas the little
bitches were more flashy, and unless they had a very
strong and straight line, would appear to be all at sea,
and would hang about, waiting for me to take them in
hand or to a view halloa in the open. On the other
hand, get them away on fair terms with their fox, over
a nice piece of grass, or scent-holding ploughed land,
and it was a case of " catch *em if you can ! '* They
were brilliant in the extreme, and if in difficulties.
Wedlock, Speedy, Beauty, Blossom, Rhoda, or
other of the ** stars " would soon put the rest
right.

The mixed pack, with the interchangeable hounds
of both sexes, were for general utility. For instance,
whenever I drew ** Dear old Bricket " — some called
this Wilderness of Wonder by a less affectionate
adjective, also beginning with D — this was the lot
drawn. This same Bricket Wood is a haunting
obsession, at once a Mecca and a Hades. It is of great
extent, and acres of it are quite impenetrable for a
horse. One thing in its favour was the fact that a fox
could always be found there, but when set on foot, the
question as to whether he would be driven out was
highly problematical. Moreover, these local " red
skins *' were given to indulging in a game, evidently
diverting to themselves, but apt to make any huntsman
feel utterly fed up and weary of life. The joke

CHASING AND RACING 79

consisted in the humorist ** going away " in a grand style
over a twenty-acre field. On reaching its limits he
would slip along at right angles and return by the side
hedge to covert. I have had this trick served on me
time after time, although there had been no question
of the wily brute having been headed. He was always
given a fair field and no favour. I tried placing
" stops ** or outposts close to the covert, on either side of
the open space ; but the red rover would simply slip
by them with a derisive whisk of his brush and re-enter
the tangle. The original comedian must have im-
parted this merry jest to his descendants, for all the
Bricket foxes seemed to know and enjoy its exploita-
tion. I never remember to have had a good run from
this woodland labyrinth ; but often — when late in the
season I had drawn covert after covert blank — I would
catch hold of hounds and trot them off to Bricket,
simply for the joy of hearing the crashing chorus of a
find and the inspiriting tones of Tom Goddard's
" holler " ; though I knew perfectly well that this
little episode would prove the beginning and end of the
day's sport.

Hunting the whole of the O.B.H. country five
days a fortnight, with frequent by-days, was a tall
order and a costly one ; but I was as keen as mustard
on the job and perfectly happy, despite the adverse
criticism of captious critics such as unfortunately
infest every hunt ; for I had many good friends and
true, ever ready to support and encourage me. Here,

8o CHASING AND RACING

for instance, is an example of the illogical and ignorant
argument of a certain noble lord.

** Oh, yes," he told a visitor from " the Shires ; "
** ours (the hounds were then my own particular
property) is a really splendid pack, but our master is no
huntsman."

He received a severe snub ; for the said visitor,
who had forgotten more than his lordship ever knew
about hounds and the art of hunting, replied —

** That can hardly be, my lord ! A bad huntsman
cannot make a good pack I **

Now this stranger from " the Shires " was — who
do you think ? None other than the redoubtable Tom
Firr, who, with Frank Gillard of the Belvoir, had judged
my puppy show during the previous summer. Am I
not justified in wearing this feather in my cap ?
Especially since it was supplemented, the following
year, when Lord Chesham and his relative. Lord
Valentia (then master, if I remember rightly, of
the South Oxfordshire), took a busman's holiday
with the O.B.H., together with the said Tom
Firr. His Lordship of Latimer, after a real smart
run, accompanied me and the hounds back to
kennel.

" Cox," he said, ** I am going to make you
blush."

" How, Lord Chesham ? " I asked, adding, ** I am
afraid I am past such a weakness — fire ahead ! "

** Some of your * dear friends ' have been sneering

CHASING AND RACING 8i

at, and crabbing you to me ; so I asked Tom Firr what
he thought of your performance. His reply was, * I
have never seen hounds better hunted.* There !
what do you think of that ? May I remark that I
heartily endorse his opinion ? "

Vanity and colossal conceit of me to publish this,
you will say ! I don't care ! I have reason to be
proud of the pronouncement ; especially in view of
the persistent way in which some of my followers
(members of the committee, too, who should have
known better) belittled my efforts from the very
commencement of my mastership.

I should not have known what was going on behind
my back had it not been for the invaluable information
conveyed by the redoubtable Ted, who not only
relieved me of the clerical, financial, and managerial
duties attaching to my office, but also acted as Field
Master, a position which was by no manner of means
a sinecure ; for at times I was hampered by very
plethoric and unruly fields, apt to over-ride hounds,
foil the line, head the fox, and make themselves
generally objectionable. But Ted was a solid stand
by and managed — by firmness tempered with tact —
to keep them in something like order, so that I was
able to concentrate on my hound work, and my one
objective, viz. the legitimate hunting of and accounting
for " Joshua.'*

But, even so, my task would have been a particu-
larly puzzling and arduous one (for the physical

82 CHASING AND RACING

peculiarities and varieties of the huge country rendered
it one which took an infinity of " knowing **) had I
not had the constant and thoroughly sportsmanlike
guidance and advice of Bob Webber, of Croxley Green
(who succeeded me as M.O.B.H.), for he knew every
inch of the country, the normal run of the foxes, and
where, and under what circumstances, they were
likely to be " At home " to my call. Bob was a heavy
weight, and therefore not one of the flying division ;
but he was always there, or thereabouts. Huntsmen
as a rule dislike any particular individual who per-
sistently rides in their pocket ; but I not only en-
couraged Bob to do so, but was unfeignedly thankful
and grateful for the fact. He was an enthusiastic
hound man, as distinguished from a rider to hounds,
for he was a constant visitor to the kennels, and took
as much interest in what I may call the personality
of each unit of the pack as I did, which is saying
a lot.

I have noticed that not one in ten who poses as
a hunting man knows one hound from another,
or cares a tinker's curse about them, so long as,
jointly considered, they can furnish a bright run in
which he can display his horsemanship for the benefit
of the admiring fair, or the envious hatred of male
rivals.

If only those who patronize a particular hunt
would devote a reasonable portion of their time to
visiting the kennels during the summer, and becoming

CHASING AND RACING 83

acquainted with the inmates, they would find their
enjoyment of the game more than doubled, when the
season begins ; especially if they have been cubbing
during the educational phase, and have noticed the
progress of the young entry.

Others who were real sportsmen and sports-
women— besides my own domestic crowd, " Uncle
Punch " and " Auntie Emmy " — were the brothers
Clutterbuck, J. B. Cowley, " Jimmy Woods " (a young
farmer, with an equally charming wife, one of the very
best, a thorough sportsman and a perfect specimen of
Nature's gentlemen), and George Gurney, a Silver
Ring penciller, to whom I have already paid tribute
in my pony racing reminiscences.

Mention of this excellent sportsman recalls an
incident which had escaped my memory when setting
forth my pony racing experiences. It was by no
means a heroic episode. The scene is laid at Wye. I
had ridden one of my string to victory and was all
cock-a-hoop ; so when a certain owner asked me to
ride a pony of his (called Miss Westbourne) in a
subsequent race, I jumped at the offer. Happening
to meet George Gurney I told him of my projected
ride. " Don't you, master I " he said. ** She is a
mad brute, and will give you a rough time ! " (as
indeed she did) ; but I scorned to funk the adventure,
with the result that, after finishing a poor third, I was
taken twice round the course by the flighty one before
I could pull her up. The Usher and Sarah were

84 CHASING AND RACING

soft-mouthed and amiable beasts compared with Miss
Westbourne.

At this time I had unrestricted enjoyment of the
excellent fishing on the Chess, which runs through the
Latimer demesne, where I enjoyed some perfect days
and evenings. On one of the latter I had something
like a repetition of the fishing adventure at Missenden,
as recounted in an earlier chapter ; for late in May I
discovered a run at the foot of a fall, where the big
fellows, in single file, procured nightly their entymo-
logical rations. It was a case of " One landed, t'other
come on r* until I had four and a half brace of beauties
(not one of which was under 2 lbs.) laid out neatly in a
row. Here again ^* the coachman ** proved what a
deadly fly it is, of a late spring or early summer evening,
after sunset.

The shooting was not so good, but it was a pleasant
interlude on off days, and we generally managed to
make a respectable mixed bag. But the best of sport
with the gun was that which I enjoyed on the extensive
farm of the before-mentioned " Jimmy " Woods ; for it
was well stocked with the little brown birds, and as
Jimmy and his other friends were deadly shots, our tally
was a very satisfactory one.

I had one or two good days with the Drakes at
Shardeloes. Here I was up against a very deadly
wielder of the gun in the person of the rector of
Amersham, a sporting parson of the old school, the
Rev. Edward Drake, to wit, who made a name for

CHASING AND RACING 85

himself and the Church by riding in the Grand
National and completing the course, under the assumed
name of Mr. Ekard, which nom de course resolves itself
into the simple expedient of spelling his rightful
patronymic backwards. He was a brother of the then
reigning " House of Shardeloes," and like all of the
clan, was inclined to be somewhat dour and reserved ;
except in his language in the fields of sport, which was
apt to be anything but clerical ; but he had a touch of
dry and caustic humour, which was very effective in
checking the exuberance of irresponsible youth. His
cousin " Mutey," so-called because he had distin-
guished himself in the India Mutiny, was of a far more
jovial and genial disposition, and he and I fore-
gathered most pleasantly. When finally I resigned
the O.B.H. country it was again divided into its
original sections. East and West ; Bob Webber
taking the former and Capt. " Mutey " Drake the
latter.

To return to ** The Rector." First time we met
in the stubbles and roots he had evidently made up his
mind to take my number down, for he had heard of my
triumphs at the traps and wanted to show that such
shooting was of the tricky order, and that an Ai game
shot would always assert superiority. As he un-
doubtedly belonged to the latter category his theory
only remained to be proved. Well, it was a close
thing ; but it gave him furiously to think when, to
commence with, a bit of rough stuff where birds could

86 CHASING AND RACING

not be walked up was driven. They came over at
top speed, down wind and very high. By a lucky
fluke I accomplished a startling right and left. (I say
" lucky fluke," because I have always considered that
driven partridges show up my weakest spot.)
Sometimes I was almost brilliant ; at others, after
mufling my first shot, I would become demoralized ;
begin ** poking " at my birds and appearing an
absolute " wash out." But this was indeed a pleasant
start. I was so bucked up that I was well on the spot
all day, and at the end, topped the Rev. Edward's score
by one and a half brace ! It was " some " shooting I
can tell you ; for neither of us let many opportunities
pass. All his Reverence said at the count was, " Yes,
you can shoot, I give you best ! "

The Squire had three grown-up sons. All inherited
the family love of sport. At Shardeloes there was an
extensive lake which held leviathan pike and other
hefty specimens of the finny tribe. I had leave to fish
whenever I cared to ask ; but was never lucky enough
to have a real good day with Esox lucius ; the biggest
that ever fell to my rod in those waters being an un-
considered trifle of 6J lbs., which happened, by the
way, to be the exact weight of the largest trout taken at
Missenden Abbey, the lucky angler in that case being
my younger brother-in-law, Ronald Barlow, who was
very keen on the sport.

The Shardeloes lake was fed, as were the Abbey
pools, by the Misburn, and might have teemed with

CHASING AND RACING 87

heavy trout had the pike been removed and the whole
cleared of noxious weeds and the deep mud which had
silted to such an extent that the surface water was
reduced to less than a third of its normal area, forming
a morass, heavily overgrown with rushes, which proved
most attractive to wild fowl of many varieties. Here,
also, was a sure draw for Mr. Reynard. Many a one
have my beauties chevied therefrom to the big woods
which unfortunately were far too handy. I seldom
killed a fox found in the Shardeloes marsh. At the
commencement of my second season, that accursed
plague, mange, broke out among the foxes of the near
West and far East of the country, and it soon became
evident that drastic measures must be taken if the
trouble was to be successfully tackled. A great many
afflicted cubs were chopped during the educational
period, but hounds showed no inclination to break up
their victims even had they been allowed to do so,
which naturally they were not. Others, marked to
ground, were dug out and an end put to their misery ;
though by way of experiment I bagged a well-grown
dog cub which seemed less afflicted than some, gave
him a liberal dressing of paraffin, Stockholm tar, and
black sulphur, and turned him back in his earth with
the idea that he would thus disinfect it. Perhaps he
did so ; but as it was never again used by any of
his tribe, though formerly a favourite refuge, my
brain wave did not pan out as well as might be
expected.

88 CHASING AND RACING

One day we got among a litter in a large covert,
every one of which was a pitiable sight to behold. A
brace was quickly ** done in," and then I viewed a
miserable little wretch as he crawled into a woodstack.
I touched my horn, and when Jack Westrup came up
with the terriers, I told him to let Damon and Pythias,
two of my most punishing ** wire hairs," have a go,
knowing that this would settle the poor cub in two
shakes of a duck's tail ; but like the assembled hounds
they did not seem anxious for the job. One of the
field, who always had a fatuous opinion to air, expressed
it as his belief that it was a rabbit that had entered the
woodstack.

" Not a bit of it," I said. " I viewed him in
myself. It was a cub right enough, and a d — d
mangy one at that. Why, he had not a hair on his
tail ! "

" Tail ? " Ah, thought my friend the enemy, I
have him on the hop.

** Oh, Master ! " he exclaimed, looking round at
the congregation in anticipation of triumph. ** Tail !
fancy you backsliding like that ! I did not know that
foxes ever owned tails. ^*

" Oh, there are exceptions," I answered uncon-
cernedly. ** This one is a case in point. As the poor
brute has not a hair on his caudal appendage, it could
not by any stretch of imagination be termed a brush^

Great applause from the throng, and the funny one
completely disgruntled.

CHASING AND RACING 89

It was not long before I discovered the source of
the plague. A certain covert owner, whose affections
were more centred on pheasants than on foxes, had
instructed his keeper to dig up a litter of cubs and to
rear them in captivity until required. Such a requisi-
tion being their transfer, in a bag, to an outlying

Rcovert (where there were no pheasants, no rabbits, and
no undergrowth, and, consequently, no foxes in statu
natura\ what time I had ^^itdi a meet in the vicinity.
Now this keeper's idea of fostering fox cubs was to
enclose them in a covered-in pig-sty, to throw them the
decaying legs of horses or cattle that had succumbed to
disease, and never by any chance to clean out their
improvized den. Finding them minus their natural
covering and almost in extremis he liberated them.
" Hinc ill^ lachrym^.'^

Faith, a M.F.H. has much to contend with ! Of
course this temporary check to what, until then, had
been such sport as had not been enjoyed in the old

■country since the halcyon days of Harvey Coombe,
brought all sorts of abuse on my devoted head. Some
went so far as to say that I had secretly imported mangy
cubs from other hunting countries and so brought
about the disaster. Colour was given to this libel

(because, when I had accounted for all foxes in the
localities affected, and had dynamited their earths, I
did import some very fine and healthy vixens from the
non-hunting wilds of Wales and Scotland, knowing
that wherever each should draw her own habitation, a

90 CHASING AND RACING

clean, outlying dog-fox would be sure to come a-
courting. And so it turned out. The result was
eminently satisfactory, for the following season saw
us with a particularly lively and straight-necked
stock of red rovers.

CHAPTER VII

IT must not be supposed that this outbreak of
mange put a stop to hunting, though we had
to go further afield for our sport ; but the
coverts were so large — by the way, the original
limits of the O.B.H. were bounded by Hyde Park
Corner and Cheltenham — that there was ample scope
for sportive investigation. Outlying foxes in the
Aylesbury and similar remote districts were ** spotted "
and located by Jack Westrup and other experts. A
by-day would be improvised, and occasionally, we
had some topping runs with the vagrants ; though,
of course, we had some occasional blanks, with no
** safe find " to fall back upon.

One of the great blessings of these minor expedi-
tions was that fields were, if select, decidedly small.
All ** the boys " of our own crowd had ** the office,"
and religiously attended. Good sportsmen and straight
riders, who saw to it that foxhounds, and even I, had
fair play.

One of these enterprises provided perhaps the best
and most exciting run I ever had with hounds. Peter
Chutterbuck had sent word to me that an old dog fox
had taken up his quarters in the fastnesses of Stanmore

91

92 CHASING AND RACING

Common. Already we had had several good runs
from this rather suburban gorse, and twice we had been
laughed at by probably the same old dodger, but on
the last occasion I had tumbled to his tactics and was
now prepared to counter them. Ted sent out private
notices of a by-day to all the genuine crowd ; but not
a word to the rank and file of the Hunt. I selected two
of my fastest mounts, both real good leppers, to wit,
Cinderella — a chestnut mare almost clean bred who
had won two nice little steeplechases at Hunt meetings,
and Uncle Ben, a bay gelding, bought locally as a
four-year-old, and broken to my own hand, after he
had had the rough edges chipped off by Bedford, who
was a fine horseman, and who delighted in preparing
green ones for me to polish. I made up my mind that
our artful friend would make tracks at the slightest
sign or token of our approach, so I sent Tom Goddard,
my first whipper-in, to a point where I figured that
His Nibs would sneak away ; whilst Wilson posted
himself three fields further off, but well in sight of Tom
who was not to halloa the fox, but only to signal to the
kennel huntsman so that there would be no likelihood
of Joshua doubling back.

Hardly had hounds been thrown in than the
sonorous voice of old Landsman was heard. This was
a Washington hound that never told a lie. All the
others of the pack knew it, and would rally to the
tongue whenever and wherever thrown ; so that the
next moment the shrill piping note of Blossom, one of

CHASING AND RACING 93

the most prominent and determined of my bitches,
joined in a duet with Landsman's bass. And then a
full, glorious chorus broke out, as the whole pack
struck the spot where reynard had curled himself up
to dream of poultry yards and vixens. In an incredibly
short space of time Wilson's halloa was heard, announc-
ing that the quarry was well away. I thrust Cinderella
at the rather trappy and hairy obstacle that divided the
common from the open grass. She was always a bit
impetuous at the start. She rushed the fence and
nearly came down, but she kept her legs and I my seat.
I pulled her up and touched the high notes of my horn,
a signal which my hounds knew well. Out they
streamed, with very few lingerers. Wedlock, one of
the Curraghmore bitches, was the first to pick up the
line ; she threw her head up, striking an exultant and
musical note which brought the whole bunch into
action. Away they went, heads up, sterns down, at
their best driving pace. Ye gods I What a sight to
thrill the heart ! What a sound to enchant the ear !
Forr'ard, forr'ard, forr'ard ee wye ! Nothing but
grass in front of us, but the clay soil rather holding,
so that the canine element had the foot of the equine and
its burdens.

The select little field was well away, with the excep-
tion of one unfortunate wight who was riding a half-
baked young 'un which turned turtle at the very first
fence. Neither colt nor rider was hurt. Having
remounted, the latter, I am told, took his mount back

94 CHASING AND RACING

and put him at the jump again, and this time the
young 'un cleared it ; but the rider saw no more of
the historic run. This was the normal happening
when J. B. Cowley was schooling a " rookie." We
were a mile ahead, and having to push our mounts to
keep the pack in view. As they swung round by
Elstree reservoir, about fifteen minutes from the start,
I was able to take a short cut with Ted (on his slow but
sure old charger, Patrick Geogehan) and several others
of the boys. I had the luck to nick in with hounds as
they crossed the London road, and set their heads, as
well I knew, for Scratch Wood, the scene of many
happy days with the gun ; for it was situated on the
family estate, then in the hands of my half-brother
Irwin. My second horseman, George White, was
waiting here with Uncle Ben ; but Cinderella was
still fresh and eager, so I sent my man on by road to
the far side of the sixty-acre wood, where I felt certain
our fox, finding the drain holt in which he had hoped
to harbour himself well stopped, would again face the
open and point his mask for Coombe Wood or Shenley.
The pack, without the semblance of a check, drove
over the two miles to " Scratch " in what must have
been record time. Then right through the covert
they went, sending my brother's cherished pheasants
bustling and squarking in all directions ! This meant
trouble for me; but there was no time to weigh conse-
quences. A halloa ! from White told me I was right
in my conjecture as to the itinerary of Joshua. There

CHASING AND RACING 95

was a momentary check on the road where His Nibs,
having cocked an eye on George^s bufF coat, had
doubled on his tracks and then broken across the open
again. This gave me time to change on to Uncle Ben,
who was very much on his toes. On White's informa-
tion I halloed the hounds, nipped over the road hedge,
and swung the pack in a semi-circle over the field.
Trimmer, my show hound, and Wrangler, a son of
the immortal Belvoir Weathergauge, struck the line
simultaneously and signified the same in the usual
manner. Away flew the pack, ** Haik to Trimmer,
Haik to Wrangler, forr*ard, forr'ard my beauties,
push him along — Yoi Blossom ! Yoi Wedlock ! Yoi
Sampson,** as each took the lead only to be headed by
the next 1 I was now away with the hounds by
myself, and felt exultantly puffed up. How selfish
some of us are ! I was sorry for the field, though the
survivors led by Wilson were well within hail. After
seven minutes of glorious galloping and jumping I
was faced by an obstacle which I hate and loath like
poison, a bull fence, vulgarly known as a ** bullfinch."
It was set on a rotten bank. I charged it with my arm
over my face. Uncle Ben burst half through it then
became straddled on the beastly bank, where he
remained struggling and see-sawing ; what time I
quietly slipped off his back and pulled his hind-
quarters free. But by this time hounds were well out
of sight, though I could hear their music in diminuendo
in the distance. There was nothing left but to follow

96 CHASING AND RACING

as best I could. I had not gone far before I became
aware of a strange sensation around my right eye, and
soon I could not see out of it, but there was no pain.
After a time I struck the trail of some of the field, and
after jogging along for a mile or so, having lost all idea
of topography, I heard a faint " whoop- whoop ** from
a wood on the hill. Great Scott, they've killed, thought
I to myself, cursing my luck for not being in at the
death ; but as it happened they had not killed. The
brave red skin had found sanctuary in South Mimms
Wood, and was being marked to ground by Wilson,
who had taken command when I disappeared.

The run had lasted fifty minutes, with hardly a
breather, and on grass nearly the whole time ! As soon
as I rode up I was greeted by Wilson with, " What's
the matter with your eye, sir ? " I did not know ; but
it turned out that a long blackthorn had penetrated
above the eyelid, though most fortunately without
injuring the eye itself. Extraversed blood had caused
the whole socket to swell up, entirely destroying, pro
tenty its sight. When this thorn was removed, it
proved to be three-quarters of an inch long. Luckily
nothing worse than a real lovely black eye supervened.
Faith, but it was a glorious run I Of course, so
gallant a fox was left in peace ; but he never visited
Stanmore Common or its neighbourhood again, as far
as could be ascertained.

We were all mightily pleased with ourselves, but
we had to face the reckoning.

CHASING AND RACING 97

B Next day I received a furious letter from my
brother Irwin, who upbraided me, in no measured
terms, for not having whipped off before entering
Scratch Wood, and sending the long tails far and wide
over the surrounding country. He said that on the
day following our raid, he had fixed up a big shoot in
honour of a certain distinguished General, who was
his guest, and that now I had upset the whole apple-
cart. Furthermore, he threatened to cut me out of
his will (I am his next-of-kin and legal heir), leaving me
with a very dilapidated boot to put my foot in. Now,
although I place fox-hunting well in front of pheasant
shooting, or for the matter of that any other form of
sport with the gun, I am not averse from such diversions
and enjoy the burning of villainous saltpetre, or its
nitric substitute, especially if accompanied by a boon
companion, a clever retriever, and a pointer, setter, or
tireless spaniel. So that I had some understanding of
my brother's wrath. He hated hunting like poison,
and, of course, did not understand the difficulties in
which I was placed. In the first place it would have
been utterly impossible for my whippers-in to get to
the head of the pack, screaming and driving full steam
ahead on a burning scent. Had there been the
semblance of a check I could have lifted them to the
far side of the pheasant preserve (as I was confident
that the fox would go right through and sink the
valley) and have slipped them on to the line. But there
was no such check — thank our lucky stars ! It was

98 CHASING AND RACING

some time before Irwin's fury went off the boil and
' gradually simmered down to a plaintive sibilation.
Then ominous growlings and grousings became
audible throughout the country ; because all sub-
scribers had not been warned of the by-day. A
committee meeting was held, and I was solemnly
cursed by bell and book ; but like the " Jackdaw of
Rheims/* I felt not a penny the worse 1 Of course
there was reason in the complaint ; but it was urged
by the neglected ones, for the most part, in a spirit
of mere captiousness. These were they who would
never have dreamed of attending such a cutting-out
expedition, and even had they done so would never
have gone two fields from the common. They heard
of the great run with envy, hatred, malice, and all
uncharitableness ; but one thing is certain, if these
slackers and shirkers had assembled in force there
would have been no such a run. It was only con-
trived by strategy and tactics of the most meticulous
order.

Nevertheless, rebellion was in the air, and the
conspirators — chiefly members of the aristocratic com-
mittee itself — worked steadily behind my back, with a
view to my displacement by a professional huntsman ;
though I was to be permitted to retain the mastership
and to provide the odd ;^4000 per annum (over and
above the ;^i2oo subscription) which it cost me to run
the show. I soon gave them to understand that under
no circumstances would I give up the horn, quoting

CHASING AND RACING 99

the excellent sport that had been shown, and the record
tally of foxes accounted for.

A general meeting of the Hunt was convened.
Ted, who was exceedingly popular with the farmers
and tradesmen, went a canvassing, and so well did he
succeed on my behalf that, when the matter was put to
the vote, the committee found themselves in a minority,
and forthwith resigned in a body.

Then I did a foolish thing, and not for the first
time under similar circumstances. I have always been
utterly averse from kicking an enemy when he is down.
Given the whip hand I have invariably lowered the lash
and soothed the offender. In this case, in addressing
the meeting, I thanked it for its vote of confidence, but
implored it to restore the now thoroughly disgruntled
committee to its former status. This was done, but,
as usual, the coals of fire which I had heaped on the
heads of my enemies scorched my own hands cruelly.

CHAPTER VIII

ON leaving Missenden Abbey I had taken a
furnished lease of Harefield Grove, near
Rickmansworth, for the term of twelve
months, the while Chorleywood House,
which I had purchased from my fellow clubman,
Baily-Ackroyd, was being prepared for occupation.
The long disused kennels, situated on the edge of
Chorleywood Common, had been renovated and my
hounds, horses, and hunt servants were already
comfortably established there. There was quite a
nice bit of shooting attached to Harefield Grove, a fair
show of partridges, and some 300 homebred pheasants,
so that when at times that season Jack Frost had
placed his veto on hunting, I and my friends were able
to indulge in sport with the gun. It was in these
comfortable quarters that the second of my three sons
(Denis) first saw the light.

As soon as Chorleywood House was ready we
migrated there, and our social and domestic life began
in earnest. My CO. was not really a hunting
enthusiast. During my Mastership of the Missenden
and Hambleden Vale Harriers she had ventured to

trust herself on horseback now and then, but one fine

100

CHASING AND RACING loi

day, being jumped off and deposited rather rudely on
the ground, she there and then foreswore the chase
and devoted herself to less exciting diversions. Not
so her younger sisters ** Miriam " and " Freddie."
They were as keen as mustard, and a particularly
smart couple of worshippers at Diana's shrine. Both
were fearless horsewomen with perfect hands and
stout hearts. So far all had gone well — the clouds
were already gathering, but it was some time before
the storm burst as narrated in the preceding chapter.

The fact that I had been supported by ** oi polloi "
to the detriment of the committee's amour propre^
undoubtedly rankled ; so I began to feel that I held
an isolated and far from secure position. It might
have been imagined that the committee of the O.B.H.
having been re-installed at my earnest request, after
its defeat by the body of subscribers, would have
had the decency to acknowledge the courtesy by
refraining from further back-biting and grumbling ;
but alas 1 such was not the case. On the contrary, I
soon found myself up against a carping spirit which
took all the steel and enthusiasm out of my endeavour
to keep up an average of sport such as had not been
enjoyed in the country for very many seasons under
previous masters. Consequently I began to feel
utterly weary and fed up ; so that when another general
meeting was convened, like Brer Rabbit I just " lay
low," and offered no opposition to a suggestion put
forward by a certain noble lord, whose suavity was

I02 CHASING AND RACING

obvious, but whose loyalty and sincerity were open to
doubt. His lordship paid me most lavish compliments,
but insinuated that in his opinion I had bitten off more
than I could chew in trying to hunt the whole country
successfully. He then begged to move that the said
country should be again divided into East and West ;
that I, with a certain proviso, should be graciously
permitted to deal with the East ; whilst Squire Drake's
cousin, Capt. " Mutey *' of that ilk, should take over
the mastership of the West, as previously hunted by
Austen Mackenzie.

Some one got on his hind legs to ask what the
proviso might be, and was informed that it was that I
should allow my kennel huntsman — at that time Jack
Abel — to carry the horn on alternate hunting days.
Now under normal circumstances I should have
fought this motion tooth and nail, but by this time
clouds were gathering over my domestic roof ; more-
over, I was becoming so keen on race riding that I
must confess that on many occasions I had put Ted
Jaquet in supreme command — with Abel to hunt the
hounds — what time I had donned my colours and
was desporting myself, more or less successfully, at
Kempton, Sandown, Hurst Park, and other arenas
over which " blood " bounds.

This gave an excellent — and, I must admit,
legitimate — handle for the opposition to use against
me. That it did so with a hearty will and hefty pull
I need hardly say. So I agreed to the terms, and made

CHASING AND RACING 103

the best of them during what proved to be my last
season, which was only conspicuous by reason of the
great physical merit of the young entry, and the con-
sequent raising of the whole pack to a quite high-class
level, from a purely show point of view. Otherwise
there was a lamentable fizzle. We were short of foxes,
and the hounds, being unable to serve two masters,
became bewildered, and lacking in the dash and per-
severance which had erstwhile distinguished them. It
was a sorry business.

I wonder how many earnest and striving M.F.H.*s
have had their hearts and spirits broken as I had, by
the lack of sympathy, understanding, and true sports-
manship on the part of their committees ; their name
is legion, I trow. Of course, there were one or two of
the right sort who were members of mine, but they
were in a marked minority and quite overshadowed by
the " Big Noises " who held their position by the
virtue of their social status in the country, but who
seldom, if ever, deigned to attend a meet, or if they
did so, drifted away after, say, the first adjacent covert
had been drawn. And yet they constituted themselves
arbiters of my efficiency, or the want of it, and never
hesitated to advance their academic theories whenever
occasion gave them the opportunity. But one striking
exception was the Hon. Secretary, to whom I owed a
great debt of gratitude. His post was almost as
thankless a one as my own, but he cheerily carried on
and weathered all storms by his tact and amiability. I

I04 CHASING AND RACING

am not alluding to my own private secretary and bosom
pal, Ted Jaquet, who, as stated, acted as Field Master,
and who was so appointed by myself, but to Harvey
Fellowes, who in his day had been a member of the
All England Cricket XI, in company with dear old
" Uncle Punch ** Burbidge, and who was, so the latter
declared, one of the fastest and deadliest bowlers he
had ever seen.

Misfortunes seldom befall in single spies, but
generally descend in battalions, for it was at this junc-
ture that the props of my home were swept away by a
devastating cataclysm, and for years to come I was
plunged into a legal and psychological turmoil which
completely diverted the current of my hitherto happy-
go-lucky life.

On this miserable phase of my existence I have no
wish to dwell. Sufficient to state that circumstances
compelled me to take action for divorce against my
wife, and that, as the lawyers on either side were intent
on plucking the pigeon to the last feather, the pro-
ceedings were painfully protracted for over three years
before a final issue was arrived at.

Naturally enough, the matter was a public scandal,
and afforded food for every gossiping lip ; so that my
position as M.F.H. became untenable. Both my
domestic and my sporting establishments were broken
up. I sold my home and estate to the Duke of
Bedford, whilst my hounds and horses came under
hammer.

CHASING AND RACING 105

It was a heart-breaking day for me when the auction
was held. I studiously absented myself. I could not
bear to see my beauties paraded in couples and knocked
down to strangers. The only consolation and sop to
my pride which was vouchsafed me, was that they were
so thoroughly appreciated by leading masters and
houndmen that the prices obtained spoke eloquently
of the success that had attended my activities and my
endeavours to produce a first-class pack in record time.
One of my stallion hounds, which had been an excep-
tionally brilliant worker and an exceedingly handsome
specimen of his race, was purchased by Chandos Pole,
who used him to such effect that, two seasons later, he
had no less than twelve and a half couples in his entry
owning this hound as sire. This was Sampson, by
Brocklesby Weathergauge, a son of Belvoir Weather-
gauge. Trimmer, a rich tan son of the last named,
and one of the grandest hounds I ever owned, went to
the Devon and Somerset Staghounds, where he soon
asserted his transcendent merit ; but he met his death
in strange fashion. A hunted stag had taken to a
mill pool, the wheel of which was in ply. Trimmer,
who had led the pack from the start, leapt without
hesitation upon the revolving wheel, only to be dashed,
stunned and broken, into the pool below. When
taken out he was quite dead. Alas, poor Trimmer !

It had always been intensely interesting to me to
study the characters and idiosyncrasies of every hound
in my pack. None impressed me more than that of

io6 CHASING AND RACING

Landsman, to whom I have already alluded. He was
a fine, powerful fellow, but lacking in quality from a
Peterborough point of view — by the way, I only judged
at the great hound show once, and then I was told off
to deal, not with foxhounds, but with harriers and
beagles. His was rather a surly disposition. He
would grumble and grouse, with hackles erect, every
time he was drawn, and it was some time before I got
the right side of him ; but once attached, he was quite
devoted, in his own peculiar way. In the field, he was
the beau ideal of the perfect foxhound ; though some
of the fliers of the pack could lead him on a burning
scent, he was absolutely reliable. When Landsman
spoke the word, its truth was recognized by huntsman
and all who knew him. The greenest puppy would
fly to it in covert. " Haik to Landsman ! ** was a sure
signal that reynard was afoot. During a run, and
when a check had occurred, the same cry was an
assurance that the true line had been recovered. He
would face anything, and go right through the thickest
gorse or undergrowth, fire or water, and over the
highest palings. He would have faced the devil
himself. He always drove with those bristling hackles
up, and as the pack ran from scent to view, I have seen
him dash out, course the unlucky varmint as a grey-
hound does a hare, bowl him over single-handed, and
shake the life out of him as a terrier does a rat ! Faith-
ful old fellow ! He was the ** Daddy '' of the kennel
at home or in the field for three seasons ; but then he

CHASING AND RACING 107

lost pace, his hackles lay smooth on his neck, and he
would tail off sadly. But when there was a check or
scent began to weaken, he was there to set the clock
right.

I have forgotten to mention that, during my last
two seasons, Jack Abel had taken Wilson's place as
kennel huntsman, the latter having been appointed
huntsman to the Bicester under the mastership of
Lord Chesham.

Abel had on several occasions commented on
Landsman's failing prowess. One day I missed the
dear old hound. " Where's Landsman ? " I inquired,
as I cast my eye over the dog pack at the meet. ** Better
not ask, sir," replied Jack grimly. I took the hint,
but felt very sad. Of course, if Landsman had been
a normal hound I would have kept him as a stallion ;
but he was not. He had the appearance of a gelding,
but had been so born, not made. He could perform
amorous gymnastics, but there was never any result.
In this he resembled Fullerton, to my mind the greatest
greyhound of all time, and certainly the most brilliant
I ever saw run.

After my resignation, Bob Webber took on the
O.B.H. East, and hunted it for many seasons with
great success. In the West, " Mutey " Drake did
well, but did not hold on long. He was followed in
turn by " Bobby " Leadbetter and Alfred Gilbey, good
friends of mine ; but I have no precise information as
to the sport they respectively showed.

io8 CHASING AND RACING

During my hunting of the whole O.B.H. country
an incident occurred which was eloquent of a sad
tragedy. I had found a fox in the great straggling
coverts which lie between Gerrard*s Cross and Beacons-
field. After a long, slow, and intricate run on a
" catchy " scent and over very rough going, we
marked him to ground on the steep ** hanging " below
Cleveden. It was late in the day and the shadows were
lengthening every minute. It was no good leaving
** Joshua " in his retreat, so I gave some local rustics
orders to unearth him, gently transfer him to a sack
if and when possible, and report to me in due course,
when shekels would be handed out as a reward for their
enterprise. Now it seems that after a couple of hours'
strenuous labour, carried on by lantern-light, the
diggers came upon a hollow cavity wherein was found
a heap of bones and skulls. At first it was thought
that these grim relics were the result of the larceny and
raiding of a super-fox among the sheep folds ; but
honest John Westrup, who had stayed to superintend
operations, was seized with a brain wave. He remem-
bered that some twenty years previously, the hounds
then hunting the country had run riot and had gone
clean away from master and hunt servants, with a fox
heading for the heights that overhang Father Thames
between Taplow and Cookham. When the pack was
eventually held up late at night it was discovered that
five and a half couples were missing. Expecting these
to find their way back to kennel, or that they would

CHASING AND RACING 109

be harboured and tended by dwellers within the hunt,
there was no grave anxiety at the moment ; but when
days passed and no sign or news of the missing hounds
was forthcoming, advertisements and notices were
issued, offering a handsome reward for their recovery.
Nothing happened. The five and a half couples
seemed to have vanished into thin air, or to have been
swallowed up by the earth. Ah ! the alternative gave
Jack the hint. He counted the skulls. Yes, there
were exactly eleven of the grisly frontispieces.
** Why I " he exclaimed, " Fm darned if these ain*t
the hounds what was lost twenty years agone 1 ** And
undoubtedly he was right. These poor creatures had
evidently squeezed themselves into the wide opening
of the earth in pursuit of the quarry and had, one by
one, congregated in the little cavity. Then the chalky
soil had probably fallen behind them completely block-
ing them in. They had torn and scratched in their
vain attempt to find a means of egress, but had only
succeeded in enlarging the death chamber. It is to
be hoped that suffocation brought a more merciful
and speedier end than stark starvation ; but anyway,
the tragedy, as reconstructed, is a pitiful one.

CHAPTER IX

ONE evening — after dinner, be it noted — I
was boasting vain-gloriously of the love
my hounds bore me, and how they would
recognize me anywhere and at any time,
even if I were not arrayed in my hunting kit or a
kennel coat.

A certain sportive guest, who would wager on
anything and to any amount, broke in —

" Here, old Cockie, I'll bet you you won't go down
to the kennels here and now, just as you are, boiled
shirt, dinner-jacket and all, walk right into the dor-
mitory department, and sit down for ten minutes
among your docile beauties without uttering word or
sound."

" Done with you. Why not ? "

Here the discreet and watchful Ted broke in.

** Don't be a fool, Cockie ! No matter how

devoted our — note the possessive plural — hounds, a

sudden rush and scrimmage would probably occur ;

you might slip, and then some fool hound would be

sure to set about you viciously. Once ' the worry *

commenced you would have the whole pack at you and

no

CHASING AND RACING iii

you would be broken up before help could arrive or the
hounds realize their mistake. Remember * Uncle
Punch's * yarn about the master who kept chickens in
the loft over his kennels.*'

" What was that, Ted ? *' from a chorus of hilarious
voices.

** Why," continued my cousin, ** although his hens
cackled regularly and continuously, devil an egg did
their owner gather. Naturally he suspected deliberate
larceny, so he lifted the lid of the trap-door which was
plumb above the sleeping kennel, and substituted a
square of thick brown paper, which he covered with
light wisps of hay. In the morning he was enriched
by a dozen new-laid eggs, and in the kennel was found
a pair of boots ! The hounds refused to answer to
** Yoi cess cess ! "

But this fearsome tale of tragedy failed to over-
awe me.

" It's a challenge," I replied. " He has dared me,
and bet upon it. Fm on, and chance the ducks.
* If 'twere done, when 'twere done, 'twere well 'twere
done quickly.' So come along. Here goes ! "

Suiting action to words I arose and picked up
my cloth shooting cap.

** Well, Cockie," said Ted, shaking his head
mournfully, ** at least I — note the first person singular —
(very 1) — insist on one condition. We must all accom-
pany you armed with whips, and stand by when you
enter the kennel, in case of accidents."

112 CHASING AND RACING

" All right, old friend, so long as you keep at a
respectful distance.'*

So we sallied forth. A full moon was shedding
her radiance on the bosky gorse which covered the
common leading to the kennels. As we passed the
gates of the demesne the mournful song of the
hounds, paying tribute to their goddess Diana, rose
and fell on the fitful breeze. The chorus was answered
in counterpoint by the lugubrious hoot of a vagrant
owl. It was bitterly cold. The exhilarating effect
of Pol Roger, 1889, topped by a liqueur of fine
champagne of the Napoleonic era, was beginning to
wear off.

Was I obsessed by funk } I hardly know ; but
certainly I was not quite as cock-a-whoop as erstwhile
I had been when comfortably ensconced in my favourite
armchair before the fire in my smoking-room.

A similar eerie feeling seemed to have overcome my
friends, for there was an ominous silence as we neared
the scene of action.

On arriving we had to knock up Wilson and his
satellites in order to inform him of our purpose. He
also was loud in his endeavours to dissuade me from
my foolhardy escapade.

" Don't ye do it, sir. Gawd knows what may
happen. Why, I would not take the risk for a mint
of gold or the pick of the stable. That old Landsman
would be at you like a tiger before he tumbled to it you
were the master ! "

CHASING AND RACING 113

But my foot was obstinately set one way, and I did
not mean to budge an inch.

The others stood back as I entered the outer yard.
Then quietly I approached the sleeping quarters and
noiselessly lifting the latch slipped in.

The moonlight fell aslant the flags ; all was still.
The pack, having finished their evensong, now lay
coiled up in peaceful slumber, huddled together for
warmth.

For fully two minutes I stood there, stock still and
as silent as the grave, but my heart was rapping my
ribs uncomfortably. Then a single hound raised his
head. It was the surly and ferocious Landsman.

Slowly he came to his feet, gazing intently at the
mysterious and silent figure before him. Then his
hackles began to rise ** like quills upon the fretful
porcupine,** but he uttered no sound.

All of a sudden, Blossom, a bitch whose love for
me was as that of a Juliet for her Romeo, or a Francesca
for her Paolo, awakening from her dreams (maybe, of
straight-necked foxes, and the glorious odour of a
burning scent), sniffed the air, and then bounded to
me with joyful whines. In an instant the whole pack,
including the crusty Landsman, was in action, and so
to speak, all over me, lavishing their caresses un-
restrainedly. Then I sat on the bench, and when my
friends, with the wind well up, came rushing in by
reason of the rumpus, I had one arm around the
grumpy old Landsman*s neck and the other around

114 CHASING AND RACING

Blossom's. I had a to-do to restrain my beauties
from giving my guests a welcome of a very different
kind, for they, the hounds, evidently imagined that a
vigorous offensive was being launched against the
person of their master.

And so I triumphed, but for a moment it was touch
and go. Had Landsman made an aggressive spring,
there is no saying what my fate might have been. It
does not bear thinking of. Against my will I have
had at times nasty nightmares, induced by a sub-
conscious realization of my peril, and have awakened
in a cold sweat. As it was, I suffered no injury what-
ever— which is more than can be said of my boiled
shirt and dinner jacket. I established my contention
and pocketed a fiver, though that magnificent sum could
hardly be termed " easy money.'*

I once wrote some verses for the purpose of
recitation, describing how a postman of the moors had
been hunted by Lord Wolverton's bloodhounds.

He had helped the huntsmen to get the stag out of
the river, and held it whilst the knife did its deadly
work. Subsequently the hounds, a very wild and
irresponsible lot, ran riot, and getting on the line of
the unfortunate letter-carrier, gave him a time of acute
terror. In fact, he only just saved his skin by shin-
ning up a solitary but friendly tree. The final lines
of the piece ran —

I lay in the fork the livelong night

And when they found me my hair was white,

So now you know all about it !

CHASING AND RACING 115

This trifle was founded on fact. It is not often
that a M.F.H. is hunted by his own hounds ; but
this happened to me.

We had been to an outlying position of the East
Division of the country, and as I had an important
public banquet to attend in London, I decided to go
with Bedford to the nearest L. & N. W. station —
which was about three miles from the point where we
had whipped off for the day — and book direct for
town, sending the pack back to kennel with Jack
Abel and his trustv men.

I and my horseman-valet jogged along, but from
the ratings and whip-crackings we heard in our rear,
it was obvious that the little ladies — for it was the
bitch pack that had been drawn for the occasion —
were giving trouble in their desire to accompany me.

All went well, however, until we were about a
quarter of a mile from the station. We then became
aware of most astonishing happenings. The pack
was in full cry, but the key of its tongue had a most
unaccustomed tone. As an accompaniment, human
voices, uttering curses loud and deep, were to be
heard, with an obligato of cracking whips, which went
off like pistol shots. Then, round the corner of the
road, some five hundred yards to our rear, poured the
beauties, going hell-for-leather, with the hunt servants
vainly endeavouring to get to their heads. In less
than a minute they were up, and all over me and my
horse — the latter was the true and tried Mel bury

ii6 CHASING AND RACING

who, being accustomed to these ebullitions, suffered
hounds to swarm around him and even jump at his
head and quarters, without the remotest sign of
irritation. A bitch called Sensitive, noted for her
agility, actually leaped on to the pommel of my saddle
and hung on. I dismounted, and handing Mel bury
over to Bedford, I took the now thoroughly exhilarated
pack aside, so that it could be ringed in and commanded
by " the boys in yellow." Then I slipped back and
remounted. All to no purpose. The little ladies
broke the siege and again clustered around me. It was
a delicate task for the whippers-in to flick them away
without giving me or my mount a taste of the lash.
Rhoda, Blossom, her sister Beauty, and Speedy, a
Curraghmore bitch, absolutely refused to budge, and
kept dodging in and out of Melbury*s hoofs with their
sterns down and their hackles erect. Jack Abel sat
mopping his brow and cursing under his breath,
whilst Tom Goddard grinned fatuously. My heart
went out to these faithful creatures. Visions of a
gargantuan feast and the wine when it is bubbly,
faded into nothingness. Instructing Bedford to send
a telegram from the nearest Post Office, I wheeled
Melbury round, and touching the horn lightly, turned
his head towards the kennels, seven miles distant,
with the bitches, their sterns now up and waving
triumphantly, in peaceful and orderly attendance.

Like most of those who go out to the hunt on
horses, I have occasionally indulged in a busman's

CHASING AND RACING 117

holiday. Sometimes my good friend, Lord Lonsdale,
would invite me to Brigstock to make acquaintance
B with the Woodland Pytchley. Together with that
sportive personality known to his intimates as ** Rock "
— being an abbreviation of his courtesy title. Lord

IRocksavage, subsequently to become Marquis of
Cholmondeley — and Lord Burghersh, afterwards Earl
of Westmorland, we set out for a round, which in-
cluded the Fitzwilliam and Bache Cunard*s.

It was when enjoying a day with the latter that
Major Candy — commonly called "Sugar " — was much
scandalized because of the contraption which I had
affixed to my saddle to prevent my being jumped off ;
for at that time I was suffering from. a severe strain of
the tailor's (sartorius) muscle in my left leg, which pre-
vented me exercising an efficient grip. I may here
remark that this same trouble lasted me some years,
and even when race riding caused me to assume such
an awkward and lop-sided seat that I became the target
for the slings and arrows of outrageous jocularity —
good-natured when I won, and otherwise when the
slinger or archer had backed one of my mounts which
_ had failed to catch the judge's eye.
■ But to return to " Sugar '* Candy. We partook of
luncheon one day at his shooting-box, and here I met
his only daughter *' Kitty," destined to become
Duchess of Newcastle, one of the most successful
breeders and most competent of judges of wire-haired
fox terriers that ever lived. From her original stock

ii8 CHASING AND RACING

and her great sire Cackler of Notts are descended
nearly every terrier of the bree^ that is entitled to the
prefix ** Champion."

Another time, Lord Lonsdale informed me that
Henry Chaplin had lent him his Lincolnshire residence,
Blankney Castle, for a space, and suggested that I
should accompany him thither. Here it was that I
had the interesting experience of feasting my eyes on
Hermit, the sensational Derby winner of 1867.
The little chestnut was then in the sere and yellow, and
looked rather sorry for himself. He may not have
been among Derby winners of the very highest class,
but, as all breeders know, his success at the stud was
phenomenal. His blood runs through that of a very
large percentage of subsequent winners of the ** race
of races."

Whilst I was at Blankney, Jack Frost made his
objectionable breath felt, and snow lay deep on the
ground. We poached some of our host's pheasants,
and tried in vain to course his hares ; but we had to
give it up and await a more favourable opportunity.
This came when the Lord of Lowther Castle took over
the Mastership of the Blankney, and invited me up to
sample the sport. I brought Yeoman and Uncle Ben
with me, and all and sundry were curious to see how
these nags would negotiate the local stone walls,
neither they nor their rider having had any previous
experience of this style of " lepping," but I don't think
we disgraced ourselves very obviously.

CHASING AND RACING 119

It was whilst hunting with another pack — my
neighbour the Hertfordshire — that I nearly came to
an untimely end. I was riding a " bit of blood **
called The Fairy, She could gallop to a pretty tune,
and was a big and fearless fencer. With my light
weight she had the foot of the field, when hounds were
on the stretch. They swept over a small paddock,
bounded by a rather formidable fence, with such a big
drop that I could not, until I was in the air, see one
of the field, who had taken a short cut and was trying
to butt in and take an unfair advantage. My filly
landed right across the quarters of the other nag, so
that all four of us played roly poly together in a regular
" mix up.*' I felt the cantle of Fairy's saddle grind
right over my neck, which, luckily for my future,
failed to snap under the pressure, nor was the other
rider or his horse knocked out. We were soon going
again. Crossing a thirty-acre field there were two
flights of sheep hurdles to negotiate. The first I flew
comfortably enough, and then, to my horror, I went
stone blind. However, I stuck on, and my filly took
me over the second flight all right. Gradually my
sight returned. At first I could only see a pin's point
of light, but this widened until I seemed as if I were
looking through binoculars. Finally, normal vision
asserted itself, and I went on happily enough, to enjoy
a real good run, which ended in the fox being marked
to ground. Whilst giving my filly a well-earned
breather, the young fellow-my-lad who had got in my

I20 CHASING AND RACING

way ranged up alongside, and in a dulcet and sympa-
thetic voice, inquired if I was hurt. ** Oh no, thanks,'*
I said genially, ** not a bit. Vm quite all right ! '*
Then, to my utter astonishment, his tone changed
completely, and he ferociously remarked, ** Then you

ought to be ! It would have served you d d well

right if you had been killed ! "

I was so taken aback that I was struck dumb, and
my usually ready tongue failed altogether to frame
a repartee.

On the way home Ted and I, with one or two other
choice spirits, called at a wayside inn and regaled our-
selves with a right royal repast. When I retired to
bed I felt as fit as the proverbial fiddle, and on the
best terms with myself ; but when I awoke in the
morning I was in agony ! I could not move my head
the fraction of an inch, and I ached in every limb. I
felt on the verge of paralysis, and when my CO. called
in the doctor, I was informed that my neck was broken
as near as makes no matter. After he nad strapped
and plastered me up I had to remain utterly quiescent
for more than a week. This gave me an opportunity
to think what I ought to have said to the young upstart
who, after being where he had no right to be, and so
imperilling that which I chose to regard as my valuable
life, added insult to injury by informing me that,
according to my deserts, that same valuable life should
have been extinguished ! Thank you kindly, good sir !

This little shake-up was the worst that ever befell me.

CHASING AND RACING

121

either on the hunting field, racecourse, or during my
cavalry experiences, but I never had the misfortune

■ to sustain a fracture of any kind. I suppose I ought
to knock wood. I may yet be induced to take a chance
mount, and once again to catch hold of my horse's
mouth and set him going, as the cheery '' view halloa "

^ is followed by the most glorious chorus that ever
greeted ears attuned to the symphony.
Quien sabe ? Who knows ?

CHAPTER X

IT has been ever one of my cardinal errors to
amuse myself by placing a variety of irons
in the fires of life. My friends tell me that
had I concentrated my attention on one piece
of metal at a time, it would have glowed with a
far more luminous radiance than do my bunch of
ill-assorted scraps. Unfortunately I have a kink in
my psychological composition which forbids any such
monopoly. I must needs have a finger in every pie
that is baked in the " field '* oven. Thus it happened
that whilst I should have been entirely absorbed in the
occupation of breeding, entering, and hunting hounds,
and incidentally kow-towing to the mighty who con-
tributed a mite towards the exchequer, I was prone to
devote a considerable amount of time and much
cogitation not only to race riding and a study of all
matters connected with the turf, but to coursing,
angling, shooting, and breeding, training and exhibit-
ing dogs of various sporting and non-sporting kinds,
and judging the same at all the leading shows.

As I have already explained, my pony-racing days
overlapped my experience as M.H. and afterwards as

122

CHASING AND RACING 123

M.F.H. It was, however, during the latter that I ran
my first horse in a " legitimate '* race. One day, Jesse
Winfield asked me if I would like to see my colours
carried triumphantly under N.H. rules. Having
notified, in a half-hearted way, that I was willing, my
trainer of ponies went on to say that he had picked up
B^" ancient crock which, thanks to the application of
his remarkable embrocation, had been rendered sound
enough to stand a gallop or two.

" You can have him for a song, Capting, and enter
him for an overnight selling hurdle race at Kempton.
If he doesn't break down he will win. Then you can
let him go, for he won't stand another race. It's
worth a gamble. What do you say ? "

** Right O ! Go ahead ! And now, pray what is
this decrepit but possibly brilliant steed that you have
got hold of Jesse ? "

** What do you say to a Chester Cup winner,
Capting ? "

" Rats ! "

" Honest truth. It's The Reefer, who annexed
the Cup and the cheese in 1879." *

Sure enough, the old fellow managed to stand
up, and scored quite comfortably. Needless to say,
I did not buy him in, nor have I any idea what
his subsequent career may have been ; but it was
something to have made good with my first venture
under "Rules," and to have owned — even though
* Seven years previous to this conversation.

124 CHASING AND RACING

for the occasion only — the winner of such a time-
honoured race as " The Chester Cup.**

Thereby I was encouraged to continue. I mapped
out for myself a pretty little " itinerary pro forma^'' which
should see me riding and winning in hunters* flat
races, as at that time introduced to most of the N.H.
cards at the principal meetings. My first opportunity
occurred when the horses belonging to the eccentric
and irresponsible, but kind-hearted Marquis of Ailes-
bury were dispersed. Among them was a mare called
Lady Frederick, who had won one of these events and
had run second in another. She fell to my bid at a
reasonable figure. Not having any No. i full-sized
tackle to try her out with, I gave her a spin at Kempton
Park with my champion galloway Catona, whom I
believed to be capable of tackling this class of gee,
despite her lack of inches. Tommy Aldridge had a
leg up on the " pony,'* whilst I had my first ride on
the " big 'un.** Sure enough, the gallant Catona (in
receipt of a stone) held my mount for speed ; but
at the distance — the trial was over the orthodox two
miles — I got on terms, and won without having to call
on Lady Frederick for an extra effort.

This seemed to me good enough, so I entered her
at Sandown. Meanwhile, I had registered new colours
under rules, viz. "Lemon, orange sleeves and cap,**
and having donned these, I was thrown up on my new
purchase. History repeated itself. As on the occasion
of my first pony race at Hurlingham, I was left at the

CHASING AND RACING 125

fall of the flag. Just think of it, in a two-mile race,
started by a flag ! I lost five or six lengths, but that
ought not to have stopped my mount winning had she
and I been good enough. Perhaps neither of us were.
Anyway, we had an excellent view of the race all the
way from a conspicuous position in the rear !

iThis was discouraging, but after a bit I began to
look about me for something which would do me
greater credit. The difficulty was that in those days
" Squire Abingdon '* (George Baird) was buying up
anything going which he considered capable of giving
him a winning ride. George had a big capital to draw
upon, whereas my fortune, such as it was, was represented
« by income only, which I could neither anticipate nor
charge on pain of forfeiture. Consequently whenever
I tried to get hold of a decent bit of winning gee-flesh,
Abingdon would butt in and outbid me. But one day
at Kempton I did have a look in, when neither ** The
Squire " nor his agents happened to be on the spot.
The usual selling hunter's flat race was the last event
of the day, there being about seven runners. The
field had not gone half a mile before I noticed one
horse, right out by itself, leading by quite a dozen
lengths. I looked at my card and found that the
" speed merchant *' was one Weasel, whose in and out
running had caused him to be regarded as one of the
" cut and not come again ** brigade. But now he kept
up steam until the straight was reached. Then he
began to drop anchor, though when tackled by one,

126 CHASING AND RACING

Gladstone, he struggled on gamely enough to win by
a head. His name should have been changed to
Dizzy !

** Fm off to bid for that joker/' I said to a racing
pal who was with me.

" Don't you ! " he admonished. " Why, old
Weasel is the biggest thief of his class, which is saying
a lot.''

Well, I had my doubts. I had taken quite a
different and novel view of the race and the character
of the winner.

There were few buyers about, and as the Weasel's
'* connections " did not seem anxious to retain him, he
was knocked down to me for a trifling matter of ;£i20,
or thereabouts.

I thereupon handed my new purchase to James
Prince, who, with his brother John, was turning out
more winners in this particular line of business than
any of their contemporaries. Already he had a filly
of mine which I had obtained under rather peculiar
circumstances. I happened to be attending a sale at
Tattersall's, Albert Gate, where I was on the look-out
for a likely nag or two to carry my hunt servants.
Presently a small but symmetrical " bit of blood " was
brought before the rostrum. Glancing at the catalogue

1 saw that the " lot " was described as " A b. or br. f.

2 yrs., by Laureate — Clianthus, by Stockwell, untried."
Although at that time my pony-racing days had prac-
tically come to an end I could not resist bidding for

CHASING AND RACING 127

this one, since, from what I could judge, she would
probably pass under the 14.2 standard even in a year's
time. She was knocked down to me for twenty-one
guineas, and I sent her to the brothers Prince, who
soon informed me that the little filly could gallop more
than a bit. By the time she was a three-year-old she
had grown beyond the galloway limit, though still
small. When tried, she proved herself smart enough
to win a nice little race, and what is more, she
** clicked " first time out at " Ally Pally '* at a nice
price. The ** Frying Pan Course " — twice round and
once up the handle — seemed to suit her, for subse-
quently she won another race there, besides picking up
some of the spoils elsewhere. At last her merits
became so appreciated that I was unable to buy her in,
after winning a good-class selling race. She was
bought for a Belgian owner, who proceeded to run up
a sequence of wins with her, culminating in the capture
of one of the most important races in his country. I
do not know what her end was. She should have been
a most successful matron. Many of these diminutive
mares, like their human prototypes, beget hefty stock
above the normal size. I forgot to say that I named
this smart little lady Guinevere. Her sire. Laureate,
was by Rosicrucian — Laura by Petrarch. Her dam,
Clianthus by Stockwell. Good enough, in all
conscience !

She was the first of my winners under J.C. Rules,
and so marked the beginning of a distinct era in my

128 CHASING AND RACING

racing activities. At the close of her three-year-old
season on the flat I put her over the sticks. She
took to the game with spirit and aplomb, and I had
visions of pulling off something big in this direction.
I ran her in two handicaps, one at Kempton and the
other at Sandown. In each instance she was handled
for me by Roddy Owen, most accomplished of horse-
men and best of good chaps, with a similar result,
viz., after looking all over a winner two hurdles from
home, as she began to weaken, she found the final
obstacles too much for her stride, and so nearly came to
grief.

" This is a real nice little filly, Cockie,'' said Roddy;
** a brilliant fencer, and dead game ; but she is too
small for the game. She has to waste all her steam in
jumping instead of striding over the sticks. If I were
you I should cut this stuff out and keep her to the flat."

Of course, I took his sensible advice.

CHAPTER XI

I HAVE now arrived at a point in these
" rambling reminiscences " where I must take
pause to survey the situation and cogitate
carefully. Many of the happenings with
which I would deal have been previously chronicled
by my pen in various contemporary publications.
I put it to myself that the most convenient method
for me to adopt would be to quote liberally and
almost verbatim from some of these scripts. As one
alternative, I could rewrite the items with which I am
disposed to deal. This would resolve itself into a
question of word-juggling and paraphrasing such as
would result in a labour of supererogation, which
could have no value from either a literary or an in-
formative point of view. A second alternative would
be to cut out altogether the incidents with which I have
dealt in other pages. This would, of course, create a
hiatus and a vacuum which would have to be filled up
with "padding" and extraneous matter of doubtful
concern to readers who haply might have been mildly
interested in this unconsidered trifle in the way of
Turf history in general, and my own experiences in
particular.

129 K

I30 CHASING AND RACING

The said incidents have been set forth chiefly in
The Sporting Life and The Sunday Sportsman. Perhaps
they have been read, with ephemeral interest, by the
public ; perhaps they have been merely skimmed.
In any case the journals would be almost invariably
cast aside, and these articles clean forgotten. But
their inclusion, in part, in the present volume might
render them permanent publicity. So now I put to
myself the original proposition. " Those in favour
thereof, please signify the same in the usual manner.
On the contrary } Carried, nem con^

So off I go again !

Hark back to Weasel !

It was not long before I had cheery news from
James Prince concerning the progress of my new
purchase. He had acquitted himself right nobly in a
trial with one Hugger Mugger, belonging to Harry
Roberts (H. R. Johnson), who, with his friend and
confederate Harry Heasman, were stout supporters of
the " Princely '* establishment at Lewes. I may here
place on record that these two were good sportsmen,
ever ready to lend me a trial horse, or to " give me the
office " when one of theirs was the goods.

Prince advised the entry of Weasel in " a seller "
at Windsor, and so it happened that one fine afternoon
found me in the paddock on the Royal Meads, arrayed
in the new colours which I had adopted — " Eau dc nil
(satin) jacket. Mousse green (velvet) cap, and braid " —
having weighed out for Weasel, and now awaiting the

CHASING AND RACING 131

order to mount ; all the time suffering the prick of
" the needle.** Once in the saddle my qualms abated
and I felt quite comfortable. Now I had not had an
opportunity of riding my nag at exercise, for at that
time I was Master of the Old Berkeley Foxhounds, and
as I hunted my pack myself Eve days a fortnight, and
had other activities in between, I had no time for
voyages of discovery to Lewes. So here was I, taking
a leap in the dark — riding my second race in ** the
legitimate game ** on a horse I had never previously
bestridden.

The only thing to do was to seek my trainer's
advice and stand by it.

" This is a nice little horse, sir,*' said the worthy
James. " His temper and manners are perfect, and
he will give you a comfortable ride. He may make a
pretence of pulling at first. If so, don't saw at him,
but allow him to settle down and then take a pull. Lay
well up, but don't come along with him until you are
half-way up the straight. I think you will win."

Going to the post. Weasel displayed the manners
of a child's park hack, and stood quietly at the post.
Jimmy Duke was riding one of his own, called
Hyacinth, and she was favourite. ** Abingdon's "
mount being also strongly supported.

" Save a pony .? " I asked the young baronet (Duke).

" Go to h ! " was his curt and uncompromising

reply.

I did as I was told — as regards the riding of the

132 CHASING AND RACING

Weasel, not, of course, in compliance with Duke*s
order. My old fellow caught hold of the bit as soon
as the flag fell ; but I had him well in hand by the time
the junction of the courses was reached, and soon held
him nicely placed on the rails, lying fourth, just
behind ** The Squire.*' As we completed the cir-
cuit and came into the straight I felt my mount going
very strongly and smoothly. Half-way up, that
accomplished amateur Abingdon took up the running ;
but as soon as I challenged, his gee was done with,
and I won rather easily by a length and a half. From
first to last I did not see Jimmy Duke and his fragrant
Hyacinth,

This was a good start. I was immensely pleased
with the Weasel, who, I discovered, was at one time
something of a celebrity across the Irish Channel,
having won the Irish Grand Military and other
im^portant jump races ; but he had apparently for-
gotten the art of " lepping," for when I tried him
over hurdles at home he proved a very sticky jumper,
always showing great caution on the " safety first '*
principle, by having a good look at each obstacle before
attempting to negotiate it.

My second venture on Weasel was a cushy job.
It was at Kempton where again '* Jimmy " Duke threw
down the gauntlet. This time with Unripe — well
named, as the issue proved. Although he was a
raging favourite Weasel slammed him all ends up, and
lobbed home some twenty lengths to the good. There

CHASING AND RACING 133

was a third runner, steered by Charlie Thompson^
known to his familiars as " Bonncty Bob/* but no
one took any heed of him. I have not the least idea
what became of him in the back stretch. I think
he strayed out on an ornithological or entomological
venture.

Next morning I was "for it ** again, because
forsooth, when ** strolling home " on Weasel, and
reaching the line of coaches, my eye fell on an entranc-
ing little golden-haired fairy, of some five summers,
who was on the box seat of one of them, with her dad.
I suppose she had backed Weasel for a box of chocolates
with some fatuous admirer ; anyway she waved and
kissed her little hand to me as I came by, whereupon
I committed the awful solecism of returning the
greeting. The Press was very severe, " Buffoon *'
being the mildest term applied to my inopportune
gallantry.

A -propos " Bonnety Bob," he was one of the
toughest propositions I ever came across. He would
ride anything, for any one, at any time. He seldom
won a flat race, but that did not trouble him in the
least. I remember entering one of my hunters in a
steeplechase at the Aylesbury Hunt Meeting just as a
fill-up. Cossack was its name, a fair performer in
the hunting field, but with no pretensions to negotiating
the stiff fences of the Aylesbury course. Besides, he
was not half trained. However, Charlie Thompson
begged me to give him a ride, and although I demurred

134 CHASING AND RACING

to being an accessory before the fact to suicide, which
is a criminal offence, he would not be denied. I knew
he would come to grief at the first fence, as, in fact, he
did. Both he and Cossack were playing ** Waltz me
round, Willie,** among the buttercups and daisies in a
flash ; but both came up smiling, and had a go at the
next fence, with like results. After that they gave it
up as a bad job.

** Bonnety Bob " expressed himself delighted with
his ride ; whilst I was greatly relieved that nothing
worse than bruises and strains had supervened.

For some time Weasel continued his triumphant
career, and soon became a sort of public character ;
but he met his Waterloo at Northampton. He was
not so much to blame as his rider. The fact of the
matter is that I was over confident when rounding the
bend for home. The old chap was full of running, and
so, forgetting what a long, flat " run in '* it is, on the
boot town course, I left the other six runners too soon,
and shot some four lengths ahead. Then Weasel
ceased pulling, and proceeded to lob. Stupidly I fell
in with his views, and made no effort to keep up full
pressure. Only one of the others struggled on, a slow
plodder, which gradually overtook us, and, before I
could get a real move on again, swept by to win by a
length. I was rightly slated for my carelessness ; but
I have seen professional jockeys, who should have
known better, caught napping in this way, times with-
out number. On one such occasion I was a sorry

CHASING AND RACING 135

sufferer myself. I had a little horse called Armada *
in the Great Metropolitan. He had won the Tattersall
Sale Stakes at Newmarket — not a selling race, but one
for three-year-olds bought as yearlings at Messrs.
Tattersairs auctions. Thus he incurred a 5 lb. penalty
at Epsom. I tried him to be an out and out stayer, so
helped myself to ;^3300 to ;^ 100 against him, and ;£8oo
to £ioOy in another hand — a doubtful one — for a place.

Allsopp f was up. As soon as the big field was round
Tattenham, and in the straight, my green jacket was
seen to be well in front, but not on the rails. Armada's
victory seemed assured, as he had two lengths to the
good at the distance, where to my horror, he was
allowed to slacken off ! No doubt his jockey thought
he was winning in a canter, and did not want to make
an exhibition of him. Fatal error ! All of a sudden
Dick Chaloner, on the Duke of Beaufort's Parlington,
dropped from the clouds and slipped up on the rails.
Before Allsopp could get Armada going again, the
other had beaten him a head ! Cruel luck this \
And I did not even get my place money, for my
" commission agents " had come to the conclusion
that it was time they " did a guy." They certainly
did me I

Only once in my life have I ridden a dead heat, and
it was Weasel who presented me with the record.

* Armada br. c. by Fernandez (brother to Isonomy) — Sota di
Roma by Pero Gomez.

I Allsopp was only a lad at that time.

136 CHASING AND RACING

This was at Sandown, where a good field turned out
for a two-mile spin. In the straight I had everything
beat but a gee ridden by ** Chris '* Waller. I had lain
at this one's quarters most of the way, but when I went
in earnest to put " paid " to his account, I found I had
bitten off more than I could chew, for, try as I would,
I could not peg him back. From below the distance
we ran locked together, and when the winning post
was reached I thought I was beaten a head. Evidently
** Chris " thought differently, for as we pulled up, he
exclaimed, " Well, old Cockie, you just pipped me! *'
But when we consulted the board we became aware
that the ** double O '' had signalized that it was a case
of " fifty fifty ! "

WeaseFs opponent was owned by William Stevens,
the trainer, who readily agreed to a division.

Then Weasel had another nice little sequence of
wins, before being unplaced, for the first and only time,
during the period in which I owned and rode him. A
rather important race, with a handsome trophy, was
provided by the Sandown Executive. This was for
horses that had run in steeplechases, hurdle races, or
hunters' flat races, the penalties and allowances being
on an extensive scale. Those that had not won a race
— selling races excepted — receiving a very liberal
allowance. A big and ** classy " entry was secured,
and a good field turned out.

Weasel claimed all the allowances, and as the going
was decidedly deep, James Prince — ^John had died long

CHASING AND RACING 137

ere this — suggested that, for once in a way, I should
alter my tactics and come right through from the start.
The top weight — the National winner, Cloister, if I
remember rightly — had to shoulder 12 stone 7 lbs., and
as Weasel had only 10 stone 7 lbs., a weight I could just
do comfortably, the advice seemed sound enough. But
class told its inevitable tale. I could never go the pace.
It was a cracker ! One of the fastest races I ever took
part in. I had not a look in ; but the unexpected
cropped up. A rank outsider, yclept Mongrel,
appeared to have the race at his mercy half-way up the
straight, but his jockey completely lost control, and
the horse zigzagged all over the course, so that one of
the ** cracks '* was able to catch and beat him.

Now the rider of Mongrel was that best of sports-
men and good fellows, ** Geoie " Gunnis. I believe
this was the first time he had ever sported silk, and it
certainly was the last. He was called upon by the
Stewards to explain the handling of his mount. Of
course, the explanation was obvious to one and all —
want of experience and nervousness. " Geoie *' would
have given his ears to win. The idea of his trying
to avoid doing so was preposterous. Needless to say,
he was honourably acquitted. Lord Dudley bought
Mongrel for a tidy sum, but, strange to relate, he was
never again so near to winning a race as on the occasion
described.

I hardly ever rode Weasel but what some interest-
ing, if not remarkable, incident occurred, either before,

138 CHASING AND RACING

during, or after the race. The following is a case in

point :

O wad some pow'r the giftie gie us
Tae see oorsels as ithers see us !

Burns (" Rabbie " not " Tommy ").

It is sometimes very embarrassing to be an uninten-
tional eavesdropper where one's personality and
character are being discussed by others who are un-
conscious of our presence in the flesh ; but there are
occasions when such amenities are prone to fill one
with much inward hilarity.

It had been my lot to encounter such an experience
on two separate occasions. On one, my domestic
character was being canvassed, and on the other, my
ability as a gentleman rider. I will deal with the
latter, the former being far too controversial, and
involving issues which rest on the exact point of view
from which those who have started the argument
regard moral and social conventions.

The dialogue took place in a railway compartment
when I was en route for the old Croydon racecourse,
where, if I remember rightly, the last of the time-
honoured gatherings on that sporty but sticky course
was to be held.

Our compartment was full up. Opposite me were
two youths, equipped cap-d-pie for the business toward.
They had the impress of" the Varsity," and " not long
down " at that ; but they were evidently keen on the
game, and anxious to select from their cards such

CHASING AND RACING 139

animals as would be likely to increase their respective
bank balances, supposing such a pleasant possession
to exist.

The said dialogue was conducted in words to the
following effect :

No. I. " What'll win this hunters* flat race ? "

No, 2. " Depends on what runs. It would be a
good thing for Weasel with a good man up."

No, I. "Who rides.?"

No, 2. " Oh, the owner, I suppose. He is a
rotten jockey and can't ride for nuts."

Here another occupant of the carriage — one well
acquainted with my personality — tipped me a knowing
wink and butted in. I will call him No. 3.

No, 3. " Excuse me, sir, but is it not a fact that
Weasel's owner has ridden him in all his races since
the horse became his property and has now scored
seven wins in succession ? "

No. 2. " Oh, very likely, but that's because the
horse is a flyer and had a stone in hand every time.
* Cockie ' always looks more like falling off than
winning. He is the bossiest man on foot and the
footiest man on a horse I ever struck."

No, 3. "I suppose you know him personally ? "
(With another wink at me.)

No, 2. " Know him ? I should just think I did !
He is not a bad sort and we are the best of pals, but
that does not alter my opinion about his riding. Now,
if he would put Teddy Wilson up, I would have my

I40 CHASING AND RACING

maximum (I wonder what the figure was) on Weasel
to-day. If Cockie jrides I shall give the race a miss in
baulk."

No. I {to No. 3). " Well, from what you say, sir,
it seems that Captain Harding Cox has not done so
badly after all. I shall have a fiver on Weasel and
chance the ducks I "

And then the train pulled up and we each and all
wended our way through " Robbery Road ** to
Croydon race meeting G.H.Q.

The hunters' flat race, in which Weasel and I were
to try conclusions, had closed over night with a
numerous and quite representative entry, and all the
leading riders were at hand. The event was first on
the card, but on examining it I found that — whereas
all the others had claimed the full selling allowance —
I had carelessly neglected to do so, and that conse-
quently Weasel would have to allow 7 lbs. all round.
Now it had been pouring in torrents all night. Those
who remember the old Croydon track will realize what
that meant to the going ; especially on the far side of
the course. The soil there was of stiff clay and about
as sticky and holding as it is possible to imagine.

Whilst by no means underrating dear old Weasel's
powers, I began to doubt the possibility of his being
able to concede as much as 7 lbs. to three or four
others of the field under such conditions. This applied
especially to a gelding called Burton, which had a good
record, and was the mount of one of our very best

I

CHASING AND RACING 141

semi-professional amateurs. I had reckoned this gee
to be about the same animal as my old joker at level
weights. Nevertheless Weasel was installed favourite
at 1 1-8 against, with Burton 2-1, and others backed
from 5-1 to " any price."

I was watching mine being saddled, when enter
the two young fellow-me-lads of the train journey.
They began looking over the sober Weasel and then
turned their attention to myself. At first they failed
to identify me in my colours ; but presently ** No. i *'
nudged his pal in the ribs and tried to drag him away.
The opportunity was too good to be missed. I
waltzed up to ** No. 2 '* and slapped him heartily on
the back. ** Hallo, Sonnie," I exclaimed. " Why, I
haven't seen you for an age. How goes it ? Going
to support me and this old skin ? "

** No. 2 " grew scarlet and looked like suffering
incipient paralysis. He was struck dumb.

I continued : " You had better have a bit on. If
he can spare 7 lbs. to the rest of the field in this going
he ought to win ; that is to say, provided I do not fall
off ! Bye-bye, and wish me luck.*' The last as I
was swinging into the saddle, leaving the lads rooted
to the spot in a thoroughly disgruntled state of mind.

The start was at the end of the straight, then past
the stands, once round, and in. The going on the
stand side was not so bad, but as soon as we were in
the back stretch we were floundering in a perfect
quagmire. I had as usual taken the lead and then had

142 CHASING AND RACING

pulled Weasel back, lying at the girths of an animal
ridden by Roddy Owen, and backed only for that
reason. Two " light weights," one of which was in
the hands of Guy Fenwick — I forget about the other —
which must have been veritable mud larks, were going
for all they were worth, and soon opened up a gap of
at least fifty yards between themselves and Burton who,
in turn, was some five lengths ahead of the next batch,
which included Roddy and myself. We had been
having a friendly chat and paying but scant attention to
the leaders, but now it suddenly dawned upon my
companion, that instead of their coming back to us,
we were dropping further astern, and we were now
close on the final bend.

** I. say, Cockie,'* shouted Owen, " if you want to
win this race you had better get a move on. Mine is
as dead as a door nail."

As long as Weasel was up to his hocks in clay he
refused to accelerate his pace ; but happily we struck
a sounder patch on the bend. By the time we were
round it we had caught and passed Burton ; but there
were the two outsiders playing mutual cut throat
nearly loo yards ahead, and only 4 J furlongs to go !
I now became aware of a little figure in a frock coat,
tall hat, white shirt, and black bow tie, which looked like
the impersonation of a methodist parson or a Pussy-
foot protagonist. It was dancing and gesticulating
wildly.

** Go on I Go on, Guv'nor — for the love of

CHASING AND RACING 143

Gawd ! IVe got me bloomin* shirt on yer, and if yer
don't click, I'll drown meself."

A wag (I think it was my old friend " Rapier " of
the Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News) when
asked how it was that a rider with such unorthodox
methods as myself managed to win so many races on
" impossible " animals, replied, " Oh, don't you
know ? ril tell you ! He climbs up his horses'
necks and shouts bad language into their ears. This
so shocks them that in their endeavours to avoid
contamination, they exert the last ounce of effort."
There is some truth in the gibe, for I had adopted a
modified " monkey crouch " long before Tod Sloan,
or even Simms, had proved its efficacy ; whilst as for
using bad language, I admit the soft impeachment ;
for I found it highly efficacious in the case of Weasel,
at any rate. On this occasion I applied to him a whole
gamut of opprobrious epithets, plus a severe one, two,
three with the catgut and a dose of steel tonic. It was
seldom my habit, and never my pleasure, to use whip
or spur to Weasel ; but amiable beast that he was, he
did not resent it when I considered it necessary, and
he never bore malice ; but he knew more about the
alluvial peculiarities of the Croydon track than his
rider, and had no intention of exhausting his vital
resources until the psychological moment arrived.
No sooner was he on the sound turf and his head set
straight for home, than a wonderful change came o'er
the spirit of his endeavours. He caught sight of the

144 CHASING AND RACING

two unfortunates (now completely spun out, but still
being urged to extremities, neck and neck, by their
riders) and went for them ** hell for leather 1 "

He simply devoured space, and came up, well you
can't say ** hand over fist *' when describing a horse's
gallop, but that describes it, and swooping down on
the luckless pair, just within the distance, he sailed
home an easy winner by two and a half lengths.

Next morning this feat was alluded to by the sport-
ing press in big headlines as " A sensational race.'*
** Weasel performs a miracle." " Never say die
Cockie," etc. It seems that at one time during the
running as much as 20-1 was freely laid (and in some
hands taken) against Weasel's chance.

The moral is that a race is never lost until another
horse has won it, and even then, a reasonably lodged
objection may haply result in a modified victory.

After I had weighed in and changed I was inspect-
ing various ** lepping " gees in the paddock, when
suddenly my hand was seized and wrung rather pain-
fully. It was my little friend of the bend, with the
sombre, but highly respectable get-up.

" Gawd bless yer, Guv'nor ! " he exclaimed
fervently. ** Streuth, I thought it impossible you
could ketch 'em. Suppose you was coddin' ? But
yer put the fear of 'ell in me, gospel you did ! Thank
Gawd I 'ad a tidy win too, five goldin' jerry o' goblins,
an' make no bloomin' error ! "

Now this little figure of fun rather interested me.

CHASING AND RACING 145

I told him how gratified I was, in that I had been the
humble means of replenishing his exchequer. Further-
more, I ventured to inquire what his trade or occupa-
tion might happen to be when he was not engaged in
pursuing the sport o' kings ?

" Well, Guv*nor,'* he answered, ** by rights Tm an
undertaker's mute, but I do a bit o' teaching in the
Sunday schools most weeks.**

I Well I Well ! Well 1
Later on I struck " Nos. i and 2."
" Hullo lads ! " I exclaimed cheerily on meeting
them. ** I hope you packed up a parcel on old Weasel.
You see I did not fall off after all. I don't mind
telling you, in confidence of course, that my mount ran
clean away with me ; but I managed to cling on by
clutching his mane. Lucky, wasn't it .'' "
" No. I *' was silent.

" Don't rub it in, sir ! " murmured ** No. 2 "
miserably.

CHAPTER XII

HERE is another little story anent the amiable
and admirable Weasel (in conjunction
with another of my ** gees ") which forms,
I trust, a not uninteresting item in my
string of personal narratives.

The scene is laid in the billiard-room of " The
Crown " (I think that is the name of the leading
hostelry) at Derby. Ben Cooper and Alf Savill are
trying conclusions at a friendly " hundred up." Enter
your Uncle Cockie, who proceeds to watch the enter-
tainment. On its conclusion Ben addresses me :

** Going to have a ride to-morrow, Capting ? "

" Why yes, I have a gee of sorts in The Boden
Eccentric."

** Rum sort of race ain't it ? "

" Yes, it is for horses regularly ridden to hounds
during the season. There will be a pretty big field,
too, from all I hear."

" Have you found the pea ? " this from Savill.

" Not I. I expect you knights of the pencil will

set your market according to the riders, eh ? "

** In which case, sir, you are sure to be favourite ? "
146

CHASING AND RACING 147

** Now don't be sarcastic ! If you will lay me
100-8 my chance, you can book it."

** What's yours, Capting ? " interpolates the
worthy Ben.

** His name is Latimer, and he is a five-year-old
chestnut gelding by Touchet — Our Mary. He was
given to me by Lord Chesham, and he is named after
that sporting and genial nobleman's estate at Chenies,
Bucks. A farmer friend has been riding him to my
hounds all the season, and declares that he cannot
gallop faster than you can kick your hat. I tried him
with two of my smart galloways, and he was up sides
with them. So now you know as much about him as
I do myself. All the Corinthians from the * shires '
are on the job, so there is sure to be lots of fun."

** Is that the only mount you have, Capting ? "
asks Ben.

** No ; I shall put old Weasel in an overnight seller,
for the last day, and if all goes well I shall have
a jog around on him. What about that 100-8
Latimer .? "

" Nuthin' doin'."

Then Alf Savill butts in.

" Look here. I'll tell you what I'll do with you,
Captain. I'll lay you 20-1 against your winning
l^otk races, just for a bit o' sport."

** Not fair odds, Savill. Why Latimer will be
among the * 20-1 others ' in the Boden."

** Well, you can take it or leave it, sir. Anyway,

148 CHASING AND RACING

Weasel is sure to be favourite, and will probably start
odds on."

Your Uncle Cockie fell to it !
" All right. You can lay me ;{200 to ;^io or
;£400 to £10 if you like ! *'

" Thanks, ;^2oo to ;^io is as much as I can do with,
and I expect you have me boiled at that."

Now as a matter of fact, I really knew very little
of Latimer, and had never been on his back ; but he
was a very likely looking customer, of the wiry type,
and as sound as a bell. I had no idea as to the quality
of the opposition ; but presumed that some of our
leading gentlemen jocks, who had been hunting in
" the shires " would have been busy digging out some
pretty useful stuff with a view to this particular
race.

From what I could see of them in the paddock,
before the race, some of them looked good enough for
anything ; they were the cream of the hunting field,
and bloodlike enough for the race track.

The distance of ** The Boden " was one and a half
miles, starting a furlong below the distance post,
looping the loop, and running in. There was some
confusion when the white flag was hoisted. These
" fox catchers " seemed disgruntled at the unwonted
surroundings and circumstances, Latimer being one
of the worst offenders. But I got him off with the
leading lot, only to pull him back so as to take careful
stock of the sort of cattle he had to deal with. He

CHASING AND RACING 149

was, however, giving me a good feel and striding out
freely.

I soon tumbled to it that he had the foot of the field ;
so I let him ** gang his gait." One by one he passed
the others until he lay third, and then second. As we
rounded the bend for home he went smoothly to the
front and took the rails. It was then that I heard a
dismal wail from somewhere in the rear: ** Hi, Cockie,
hold hard, hold hard a bit, don't show us up ! "

K Well, I took no pains to cause a lengthy hiatus

^ between Latimer and his proxime accessity but allowed
the former to doddle on, to win by four lengths. So
there was a plumb centre, with the first barrel of my
double !

^ When I got back to the dressing-room there was a
howling chorus of derision. ** How do you manage
to keep that tit behind hounds, Cockie } '' ** Have
you entered him for the Gold Cup at Ascot ? '* " Fve
got a two-year-old I think is a smasher ; will you lend
me Latimer to try him out } If my youngster can peg
him back at a couple of stone Vm going to win the
Derby '' — and so on and so forth.

Certainly the gelding had pleasantly surprised me,
and I came to the conclusion that he really might be
able to win a " Corinthian Welter," or a long-distance

^ " Seller " ; so I had him relieved of his fox-catching
exercise and put into regular training. Presently I
entered him for the principal club race at Lewes, and
looked forward to a renewal of my experience as his

ISO CHASING AND RACING

pilot ; but fate, in the form of a bad attack of ** 'flu,"
upset my calculations, though I determined to let
Latimer take his chance just to see how he would shape
among real, live racehorses. I obtained the services of
my good friend Schwabe, who failed to land him a
winner in a big field, by a neck only to the bad of
Barmecide, who was then at his best. Subsequently
I rode the chestnut " hunter " at Sandown ; but
apparently he was off colour, for he was dull and list-
less and gave no sort of show. Once more, for some
reason or other, I had to give my ride a miss in baulk at
Lewes, where he showed his partiality for this particular
course by winning cleverly in the hands of my old friend
and Harrow school-fellow, Major " Bobby '* Fisher.

Then I put him to hurdling, and he took to the
game as a duck to water. I tried him to be a veritable
smasher, and got Roddy Owen to ride him over the
sticks in an important race at Kempton. He came
to the last flight pulling over the leading horse, and his
victory seemed assured ; but the other struck a hurdle
and set it on end, with the result that poor Latimer hit
it a resounding bang and came to his knees. He pulled
up on three legs. It was obvious that he was badly
injured on the near knee-cap ; and so it proved, for
though put in slings, the joint oil ran, and a friendly
bullet had to be requisitioned to put an end to his
sufferings.

Very bad luck this ! That he would have proved
himself a champion hurdler I have not the least doubt

CHASING AND RACING 151

Even a ** Grand National " might eventually have
crowned his career had it not been prematurely cut
short as chronicled.

And now to return to my " sportive double." I
must tell you that, after closing with SavilFs offer, I
took a more advantageous wager from a personal
friend, viz. ;^500 to £20, So now I was on velvet ;
for no matter what the entries 'for Weasel's hunter's
flat race might be, that amiable and reliable bit of stuff
was sure to start at a short price, whereby good hedging
would be as easy as falling off a log.

As it happened, the race was very poorly supported
and only three numbers were hoisted on the board ; but
they were a notable trio ; Weasel, on account of his
long series of wins in similar events ; Excavator,
because he was the mount of the redoubtable ** Mr.
Abingdon " ; and Percival, because no less accom-
plished an amateur than Arthur Coventry was in the
saddle. The betting was very close. I am not
certain of the exact figures, but there were only a few
points difference between the three. The result
proved the accuracy of ** the talent's " calculations —
as presently you shall see. ^

Going to the post, George Baird (Abingdon) cast
admiring and perhaps envious eyes on old Weasel, who
was loping along like a park hack.

" What a dear old horse that is, Cockie," he
exclaimed. " Why, I believe that if you fell off he
would stop and pick you up."

152 CHASING AND RACING

I smiled and assented.

" Are you going to make the running ? " he asked.

" That depends '* (cryptically).

** Well, / shan*t and Vm sure Arthur won*t ; so
what about it ? **

" What, indeed ? "

Well, at any rate I knew what to expect. You
never saw such a barney I All three of us, when the
flag fell, began as near a walking race as no matter.
One would think the stakes were to go, as in some
donkey and bicycle races, to the one which could
contrive to come in last ! Weasel, as was his custom,
at the start, was making a great show of pulling ; so
much so that willy nilly I was forced into the lead ;
but I set a pace that would have suited a sprinting
snail or a tricky tortoise. Of course I was wise as to
what were the tactics of my rivals. They were both
riding slow stayers, hoping that I would attempt to cut
them down for speed, and that they would run me out
of it at the finish.

Not for your Uncle Cockie ! Not on your
life!

Well, we kept up this crawl until nearing the bend
for home. Then, considering that the psychological
moment had arrived, I suddenly caught up old Weasel
(who was beginning to indulge in a nap) and shouted
an opprobrious epithet in his ear, always a sure method
of awakening him to his responsibilities. Imme-
diately, he caught hold of his bit and went hell for

CHASING AND RACING 153

leather. Before the astonished " back-markers " could
take in the situation I had a good Rve lengths lead on the
rails. Then they came after me for all they were worth.
At the distance we were all level, and I had to ask my
old pal to pull out a bit extra. This the gallant little
chap did with a will. Then we ran in, fairly locked.
I do not think any one but the judge could say with
truth and precision which had won, or if it was a dead
heat between the three. But I rather fancied that
Weasel had it ! My supposition proved correct ; so
the second barrel was quite effective and the sportive
double clicked. Good egg !

It is not often that loo-i is laid in afield of three ;
and still more remarkable is it when the forlorn chance
puts his bacjij^s (if any) on such particularly luxurious
velvet. In fact I can remember only two instances.
One when Jolly Sir John won a race at Gatwick at
those forlorn odds, when setting back two well-backed
opponents ; and the other, in which I took a prominent,
but by no means heroic, part. This was at Lewes
(always an unlucky course for me). There were three
runners in a one and a half mile club welter. I forget
the name of one of the trio — ridden by George
Lambton. I was steering Trelaske ; whilst the
third side of this triangular " duel '* was a ragged,
unkempt-looking little devil belonging to that genial
and optimistic old " sport," Colonel Cumberlege, Joe
Miller by name, and ridden by Captain Morris. To
use a well-worn aphorism, *' Joe " looked as if he had

154 CHASING AND RACING

been dragged backwards, by the tail, through a duck
pond.

There was close betting as between Lambton's
mount and my own ; whilst loo-i was actually laid
against the gallant ColoneVs ** rag '* of a gee. If no
one else backed it, the owner did, and so the S.P. was
duly and accurately returned.

" Joe " went away with the lead. Neither Lambton
nor myself took the slightest notice of him, but watched
one another with lynx-like vigilance. And so we ran
to the straight, with the " unconsidered trifle '' still
holding a four lengths* advantage. The going was
very sticky, and we were giving away a lot of weight,
but it was not until we were about three furlongs from
home that it suddenly dawned upon us that the
** scarecrow '* was not coming back to us, as we had so
confidently expected. On the contrary, he looked like
going further away. ** Here, I say,*' shouted George
of the Lambton ilk to me, ** we shall never catch that
joker if we don*t hurry up I **

Andfaith^ we never did !

The despised one passed the post with a very
useful margin, much to the amusement and delight of
the crowd, or to those thereof who had not backed
Trelaske or G. L.*s mount ; for Colonel Cumberlege
was a local sportsman who was immensely popular,
and one who " trained ** (save the mark !) his own
modest string ; but who seldom scored.

This Joe Miller afterwards proved that he was

CHASING AND RACING

^55

pretty useful, for not only did he, if I remember
rightly, win another race or two on the flat, but became
a quite accomplished performer over the sticks. There
is a moral to this. In race riding, never despise the
chance even of one that is generally considered the
rankest of outsiders.

CHAPTER XIII

yA ND now I come to my final ride on dear old

/ % Weasel, an equine friend whom I had

t ^ grown to love. A perfect understanding

existed between us from the very first; and

even after the lapse of so many years, I memorize the

choking sensation in my throat which obsessed me

when I saw him being led round the sale ring, and yet

remained dumb to Mr. Steven's (the auctioneer's)

stirring and persuasive appeals.

It was in the early days of Hurst Park that I had
entered my old pal in the usual over-night selling
event, and had instructed James Prince accordingly.
When my excellent trainer met me before racing, he
seemed rather perturbed.

** Mr. Johnson has entered Hugger Mugger and
18 bent on running. All conditions being equal it is
as close as no matter between him and Weasel. What
about it, sir } "

** Well, they can back the two coupled."

" Then they will have to lay long odds. The

public won't have anything else, that's sure."

** Who rides Hugger Mugger } "

156

CHASING AND RACING 157

" Teddy Wilson, Captain/'

(Mr, E. P. Wilson the celebrated amateur of Grand
National fame.)

" Well, your other patrons are not giving anything
away on the score of jockeyship are they ? "

" That's just it. They think that Wilson will
outride you. But there, you know how to handle old
Weasel better than any one that has ever ridden him.
Here's Mr. Heasman, you had better have a word
with him."

Now I have previously stated that although the
Johnson and Heasman confederacy followed the sport
with a view to making it pay, whilst I was out for
personal enjoyment, I had always been met in the most
sportsmanlike manner as one training in the same
establishment.

It could not be said of either that he was com-
municative, but a wink of the eye is often more
instructive, and sometimes distinctive, than the wagging
of the tongue ; so that I generally had a hint — a
delicate sort of hint — as to the chance of any animal
that the confederacy might be running.

** Well, Mr. Heasman," I greeted him with,
" looks as though our interests are likely to clash.
Why not stand down with Hugger Mugger and back
Weasel ? Even our friend Prince here, says that
there is nothing in it between them."

** Sorry, Captain, but ours is very fit just now, which
is not often the case ; so we must strike whilst the

158 CHASING AND RACING

iron's hot. Why not withdraw your old fella* and
support ours ? **

** Not I. This may be the last race I shall ever
ride on old Weasel. If he wins I shall let him go.'*

** Are you going to back him ? '*

" Yes, for a trifle."

" Well, tell you what. Let us save a pony, or fifty
if you like, that ought to meet the case."

I agreed.

" I think you will be beat this time. Captain."
This from Heasman.

" Perhaps."

I must say I had a wholesome dread of Teddy
Wilson's prowess, knowing how very close the respec-
tive merits of Weasel and Hugger Mugger had panned
out in more than one home trial ; but undismayed,
I weighed out and lobbed down to the post. There
were nine runners, but only the two from Lewes were
backed with anything like spirit. Between Weasel
and Hugger Mugger the betting was very close, the
latter being a fractional favourite at 1 1-8 against.

In the early stages of the race nothing of interest
occurred. I pursued my usual tactics. I had Weasel
well placed, but made no attempt to take him to the
front until well in the line for home. I was watching
Wilson like a hawk, and he was returning the com-
pliment ; so as soon as I began my run he was at my
girths. I am sure we both expected to come right
away together, but such was not to be the case. Two

CHASING AND RACING 159

unconsidered outsiders (one of which was, I think,
ridden by Roddy Owen) joined issue, and the four of
us reached the distance almost in a line, with Weasel,
perhaps, a neck to the bad. He fell away by another
half length ; so I had to give him a sharp reminder,
and call him all the insulting epithets I could lay my
tongue to. Like the gallant old warrior he was, he
responded with the utmost gameness. I had to come
up on the far side of the course ; but having a clear
run. Weasel began to peg back the others (all the
riders of whom were firing off a perfect fusilade of
catgut crackers) inch by inch ; and as the post was
reached, his head was sufficiently obvious to the judge
to gain him the verdict ; but the proverbial tablecloth
would have covered the four of us. There was much
hilarity indulged in by certain ribald fellows when I
returned to weigh in, because of my unorthodox
methods, and my peculiar seat, to say nothing of my
habit of applying the flail to WeaseFs rump instead of
to his flanks, because he favoured the former pro-
ceeding, and was inclined to resent the latter. Well,
the proof of the pudding was in the eating. No doubt
Weasel was never so well or so carefully trained as he
was at Lewes in the able hands of James Prince ; but
the fact remains that during that period, I rode him
eleven times ; won outright, eight ; deadheated,
once ; was once second (I admit I ought to have won),
and only once unplaced; this last when competing
against others of a greatly superior class.

i6o CHASING AND RACING

Before becoming my property his average was
ahout one win in ten starts^ and often " down the
course ! " — verb sap I

It was a sad damper on my triumph that I had to
see the dear old thing knocked down at auction for a
sum amounting to over three times that which I had
paid for him ; but matters of a serious domestic
nature * had arisen, such as demanded my undivided
attention, so that I had decided to drop race riding
for the time being at any rate. Weasel was subse-
quently sold to Lord Dudley for " a monkey,'* f with a
view, I suppose, to his supplying the future Viceroy
of Ireland with an armchair winning ride ; but as
far as I am aware, this desirable consummation never
materialized.

The last I heard of the old chap was that he was
enjoying otium cum dignitate^ as the favourite covert
hack of the Marquis of Cholmondeley.

With the inevitable straw in his mouth, his lordship
told me of old Weasel's well-being and what a delightful
hack he was. This I could well imagine, for his
manners were perfect, and he had the temperament of
an angel, despite a knocking about and " suffering it
rough," such as would have converted nine blood'uns
out of ten to the ways of rogues or savages.

I have more than once alluded to the fact that
certain self-styled critics affected to regard me as an
amateur rider of no skill or knowledge whatsoever.
* See p. 104. f £500.

CHASING AND RACING

Perhaps they were right. No doubt my successes in
the saddle were entirely due to the merits of horses, not
one of which had cost me more than £100^ and most
of which were acquired for about half that sum I But
I should like to remark — though without any wish to
indulge in self-glorification or conceit — that never once

tras I beaten in a close finish ; * though on one
ccasion when steering that most impossible and hope-
Jess, but handsome and powerful brute, Roscidus
(after being two lengths behind at the distance in a five
furlong race), I just failed^ by a short head, to get up
and pip the favourite (ridden by Tommy Lushington)

►n the post. I hope I may be excused for setting forth
lis fact in self-vindication, but there it is. If any one
wishes to contravene it, let him speak now or for ever
hold his peace.

A propos Tommy Lushington, who afterwards
became the trainer of King Edward's " leppers," I
venture to think that he was one of the ablest and
strongest amateur riders I ever struck. He was always
a stumbling block to me, for I do not remember a
single occasion when I had the best of him, though I
had few opportunities, for he always commanded the
pick of the mounts ; whereas I, for the most part, had
to be content with my own humble " skins.*' Another
of my time who invariably put " paid " to my account
was Mr. W. H. (" Bill ") Moore. He was good all
round, and the strongest finisher I ever remember to
* Under Jockey Club or National Hunt Rules.

M

1 62 CHASING AND RACING

have encountered or seen. Few, if any, professionals
could equal him in this respect.

By the way, I forgot to mention that, during the
time I was enjoying my sequence of successes on
Weasel, I was so bucked up by our mutual perform-
ances that I bethought me to look out for an under-
study who would carry me in hunters' flat races,
between whiles. But as previously stated, ** Squire '*
Abingdon gave me little chance of picking up such at a
reasonable figure. However, I did succeed in gather-
ing to myself a chestnut gelding called Glenquoich, and
exploited him at Windsor, where, as chronicled.
Weasel and I scored our first notch. Again success
was easily achieved, but this same Glenquoich was
rather a rough customer, so I let him go at auction.

I now bethought me to do a little private training
on my own behalf. An opportunity presented itself to
me for acquiring the stables at Headbourne Worthy,
near Winchester, at that time the property of Fred
Hunt, senior — the roundest, rosiest little old sport in
Hampshire. Fred had the reputation of being some-
what irritable and cantankerous, but he only required
tactful handling and a due appreciation of his own
particular views as to the fitness of speech and action
concerning things in general and turf matters in
particular. As a matter of fact I got on excellently
with him, and enjoyed in his company some capital
partridge shooting over his extensive farm. It was
here that I had the interesting experience of throwing

CHASING AND RACING 163

a leg over a Grand National hero — none other than
Voluptuary, who, later on, had his activities directed
to dramatic demonstrations ; enacting the role of
equine hero in a Drury Lane melodrama in which he
was the mount of that genial artist and sportsman,
Leonard Boyne, who passed away in 1920. On a
previous occasion I had been on the back, for a brief
moment, of a Derby winner. Hermit to wit, and had
been promptly dislodged ; but " the double " is some-
thing to buck about, don't you think ?

Of course Ted was installed as resident manager,
being supported by his wife and daughter, Phyllis
(my god-daughter), with Davis, to whom I have
already alluded, as head lad. Previous to this venture,
W. H. Manser, of Cadland House, Newmarket, and
afterwards Martin Gurry, of Abingdon House, had
had some of my gees in charge. Manser was a
" character." He was an unfailing source of amusement
to me, and to listen to his tales of adventure in Russia,
where he was trainer to the imperial house of Romanoff,
was to experience thrills of wonder and amazement.
There were not wanting sarcastic oafs who were wont
to say that his name should not have been " W. H.
Manser," but rather R. O. Mancer. However that
may be, he was a most generous and warm-hearted man,
and a father devoted to his three boys, George (Woggy),
Jack, and Charlie, and his dinky little daughter,
Queenie ; all of whom were perfect artistes in the
saddle. I often rode exercise with them, and formed

1 64 CHASING AND RACING

a very high opinion of Woggy's ability as a stableman
and jockey. I received instruction and hints which
subsequently served me in good stead. Whilst my
horses were under the care of his excellent Dad he rode
many of them to victory. He just missed, by half a
length, winning for me ** The Queen*s Prize " at
Kempton, on Trelaske. Strange to say the winner
was the top weight, Chesterfield, who-^so his owner,
my friend Mr. " Cleveland '* Davis, solemnly informed
me after the race — had not been off the road or out of a
walk for three weeks prior to the event. As the horse
started at extreme odds, there are good grounds for
accepting the owner's statement, apart from his reputa-
tion for unimpeachable veracity ; but it was a tall
order !

I have often wondered why " Woggy '* Manser
was not more freely patronized by owners and trainers,
for he could ride round about seven stone. He never
put on weight, and his contemporaries " had nothing
on him ** as regards style, strength, and general
efficiency. Just before the Derby of 19 19, Woggy
(who had been given the horses of Sir Wm. Black to
train) wrote to me enthusiastically about that arch
impostor, The Panther, expressing his great affection
for the ungrateful animal and his complete confidence
in his ability to lift the blue ribbon. Apparently
he was a smasher at home ; but on the race-
course ! Oh, what a change was there ! Perchance
he had had a sharp reminder with the whip in that

CHASING AND RACING

165

desperate struggle for ** The Guineas," and, like many
others of his kidney, did not appreciate the knowledge
that he was " on to a good hiding to nothing," every
time he set wild eyes on a kaleidoscopic display of silk,
amid unfamiliar and nerve-racking circumstances and
surroundings. That ** a prophet has no honour in
his own country " is a trite aphorism which applies to
the subject of my remarks very aptly, for later on,
Woggy had the distinction of being appointed trainer
to the Royal stables of Spain, where he had a notable
and instantaneous success.

CHAPTER XIV

AS in my pony-racing days, I now began to
/ % look about me for matches which should
V m provide me with a ride now and then as a
sort of divertisement or side-show. That
dear old gentleman, whom I may call the first Sir John
Thursby (to distinguish him from his equally charming
and genial son, whose sad and unexpected death in the
autumn of 1920 was a great shock to his numberless
friends), was puffed up with pardonable pride in the
promise shown as a horseman by George, his younger
son by a second marriage. Knowing my partiality to
a sporting duel on the Turf, he approached me with the
suggestion that his young hopeful and myself should
have a set-to at the forthcoming Salisbury meeting,
since we were each possessed of a gee whose class and
form approximated — to wit. Foghorn and Trelaske
respectively. So it was agreed that the match should
be for j^ioo a side over the straight mile.

The event was set for decision as the last item on
the card. When our numbers were hoisted, Dick
Dunn, he of the stentorian voice and lurid language,
bellowed out —

** Now, ladies and gentlemen, the entertainment

166

CHASING AND RACING 167

will conclude with the popular farce, entitled ' The
Unequal Match.' Til take a pony to twenty, or any
part of it. Pick which yer like ; except Trelaske ! '*

I do not know why the boisterous bookie should
have assumed that conditions were so overwhelmingly
in my favour, unless on the assumption that my then
greater experience would prove the determining
factor ; for on " the book '* there was little between
our respective mounts. However, his forecast seemed
to be justified when Trelaske, jumping off in front,
made all the running and reached the winning-post a
length and a half in front of Foghorn.

It was not long before George was handsomely
compensated by winning a nice race at Kempton on
that same Foghorn, incidentally taking down the
numbers of a good field of our leading jockeys.*

The hope of the House of Thursby soon proved
himself an exceptionally brilliant amateur rider on the
flat. Indeed, there were very few, if any, profes-
sionals who " had anything on him,'' as the Yanks say.

A later match between us might well have been
of the ** unequal " description, given mounts whose
prowess was on a par, in which case the wagering
on the score of jockeyship assuredly would have
enabled me to take odds instead of laying them !

Having suffered defeat at my hands on the race-
course, the sportive and combative George thought to

* This, I believe, was the first race under rules won by George
Thursby.

1 68 CHASING AND RACING

have a cut at me at pigeon-shooting ; a pastime {not
a sporty mark you !) at which I had had plenty of
practice, and no little success. The contest took place
at Hurlingham. I think I conceded my young friend
a couple of yards, which enabled him to push me very
severely ; but I just managed to hold my own. A
return encounter produced a similar result.

My next match was not so successful. I was
riding Roscidus — one of the most exasperating horses
it has ever been my misfortune to steer — in a long-
distance members* race at Lewes. At a mile and a half
" Bill " Moore and I were out by ourselves, with the
rest of the field in hopeless plight. My opponent's
mount was one St. Bede (belonging to Arthur Yates),
as slow as a man, but no end of a sticker, when, as now,
urged by Bill's flail (and, my word, he knew how to
wield it !). Roscidus, who had been running easily on
a tight rein, now decided that it was not good enough
to further exert himself ; so the soundly belaboured
St. Bede went on to win easily if somewhat uncom-
fortably.

Said Moore to me in the dressing-room : ** That's
a useful horse of yours, Cockie ; but you should
keep him to shorter races. It would have been a
close thing between him and my joker at a mile and
a half."

" Well, let us have a match at that distance," I
suggested with rash impetuosity.

Bill jumped at the offer with alacrity.

CHASING AND RACING 169

A few weeks later found us arrayed for battle on
the excellent Kempton track. I expected Bill to go
hell for leather, so as to exploit St. Bede's staying
powers, and to find the weak spot in my ruffian. I
was not mistaken ! We had hardly started when the
catgut began to fall with resounding cracks on the
unfortunate St. Bede's flanks. That Roscidus had the
speed of him was obvious. We lay at his girths and
remained there until half-way up the straight ; the
fusilade of flagellation being religiously kept up by
Bill all the way. As " Ma " Yates said to me after-
wards : ** When I saw you sitting quiet as a mouse and
Bill hard at work on ours, I thought it was * all up
with us.' ** Well, I had thought the same, but when
I asked the beast ** Roscidus ** to win his race, he not
only refused to pass St. Bede, but edged over, in crab-
like fashion, to the stand side of the course, and again
Bill's mount scored.

I happened to meet George Barrett in the paddock
later. " If I were you. Captain,** he said, " I should
take that brute Roscidus home and serve him up to
your hounds. It's all he's good for. We've all had
a go on him, and not one of us has ever got him first
past the post, even when it seemed a hundred to one on
him in running ! '*

A well-known and much respected dog-breaker
once said to me: " When I have a real bad 'un to deal
with, I take a gun to him and forget he ever existed ! "

This advice might have been followed with

I70 CHASING AND RACING

advantage as regards Roscidus, who, by the way, was a
half-brother of the Royal Hunt Cup winner. Morion —
what a difference ! I have managed to forget what
the ultimate fate of this degenerate was — something
with shafts and a cart-whip in it, I hope. But I cannot
forget that I ever had him. He had cost me too much,
both morally and financially.

I now come to a match which caused some excite-
ment, and which afforded a fine opportunity for wags
of the baser sort to indulge in airy witticisms at my
expense. The fact that it was brought to an issue on
the classic heath of ** Head Quarters,*' * was in itself
sufficient to draw particular attention to it, since such
a thing as a private match on that sacred stretch of
turf had been unknown for a generation or so. More-
over, the knights who were to be hoisted into the
pigskin were of conspicuously different quality. But I
am anticipating.

I happened to be travelling up from Newmarket in
company with the late Mr. Deacon and another, when
the striking and aristocratic looking owner named began
to chip me about the ungenerous character of Trelaske,
averring that the beast could not, or, rather, would not,
win a race at any distance, even if matched with a
yearling carthorse, f

" What about your Pusher .? " I asked indignantly.

* Newmarket.

f Mr. Deacon was ignoring one or two of Trelaske's
endeavours.

CHASING AND RACING 171

" Why, Trelaske is a No. i cross between a gamecock
and a thoroughbred bulldog in comparison with your
quitter 1 "

" The Pusher is a good, honest horse, and pretty
smart too," answered he of the Wellingtonian
profile ; " but he is unlucky."

" Unlucky be ! Look here. Til tell you

what ril do with you. Til back Trelaske against
The Pusher for a hundred, one mile, even weights ! "

Dear old Deacon cogitated. Then, " Fll accept
the challenge on one condition."

"As how.?"

" That you ride your own^ and that I am at liberty
to put up any jockey I choose."

Now, I had been in hopes that the Squire would
ride his ** thief," and that, though I should then have
had to put up a matter of ^yq stone dead weight, I
might successfully cope with his equestrian endeavours.

I had intended making this my stipulation ; but I
was piqued by the implied contempt for my jockeyship,
so, in an evil moment, I rose to the bait and was firmly
hooked.

Then my sportive old friend launched another
condition. Nothing would please him but that the
match should be decided at Newmarket. I very much
doubted if the stewards of the Jockey Club would fall
in with the proposition ; but eventually they did so.
I suppose they possessed a strong sense of humour !

The great day came, and our show was ** at the

172 CHASING AND RACING

head of the bill " : " Match for ;£2oo, Mr. Deacon's
The Pusher against Capt. Harding Cox*s Trelaske,
lo stone 7 lbs. each. D.M.'*

Of course I was curious to see whom my adversary
had selected to steer his pig of a horse. I was not
kept long in doubt. Who do you suppose it was ?
Why, none other than the redoubtable Jack Watts,
then at the zenith of his fame !

So here we had a top-notch professional jockey
pitted against one who had always been regarded as
very small beer (despite his numerous successes) even
in the amateur ranks. This promised lots of fun ; but
as matters turned out, the onlookers did not get much
value for their money.

The track to be negotiated was the D.M. (Ditch
Mile). I had Trelaske walked to the post, thinking
that it would be to his advantage to be minus the
lo stone 7 lbs. until the white flag was about to be
raised.

Watts was already in waiting ; The Pusher doing
some elegant haute ecole gyrations.

I had drawn the rails, and Trelaske was standing
quietly enough. They say that the essence of strategy
and tactics is the knowledge of when and where the
enemy intends to strike. Well, I knew that Watts
meant outmanoeuvring me. Of course he had a soft
job on, and had not the slightest intention of allowing
the match to be decided on the merits of the nags, pace
the riders.

CHASING AND RACING 173

I soon ** became wise to " his intentions, when he
got his mount edging away to the far side of the course.
It was part of his game to lose a couple of lengths at
the start. And so it turned out ; but I had no counter-
stroke at my command, and I never have been able to
decide what I ought to have done under the circum-
stances. So here was I left to plough a lonely furrow
on the rails, with no opponent in sight, Trelaske was
doing an easy half-speed gallop, and not exerting
himself in the very least. Invariably he had been
allowed to run his own race. He knew — and, for the
matter of that, Watts knew well enough — that any
attempt on my part to apply pressure would result in a
sticking in of toes, or a hurdling demonstration over
the rails, by my highly nervous steed. And so we
approached the distance, where the accomplished and
wily Jack suddenly caught up his obstreperous mount,
and before that astonished animal realized what was
happening, he was forced into a short but sweet donkey-
sprint, which landed him past the post one and a half
lengths to the good.

I had expected this, and had bethought me that,
when it happened, I might perhaps counter the move
by applying my whip forcibly to my boot, under the
impression that such a demonstration in front of
The Pusher's frontispiece would cause His Nibs to
coil up there and then.

I did, in fact, take up my flail ; but what was the
good, when The Pusher was fifteen yards wide on my

174 CHASING AND RACING

whip hand ? Besides, it is certain that my mount
would have become quite as disgruntled as the other,
and would have acted accordingly.

So ended this unique contest. The betting was
5-2 on The Pusher. There were not wanting those
who sneeringly observed that the odds would have been
the other way, if the riders had been reversed.

These ill-natured remarks were hardly justified,
seeing that, in a mile handicap just before the match,
The Pusher had been set to concede Trelaske 10 lbs.,
though as neither of them was pulled out for the event,
it is impossible to say what the respective merits of the
two really amounted to. But this is not the end of this
strange eventful history.

On returning to the dressing-room, where Watts
was donning colours for the next race (there is no
** gentleman riders* " attiring-room at Newmarket),
he remarked to me in his quiet, unassuming way :

" What a brute that old Pusher is ! When you
took up your whip I thought it was all up with me ! "

Obviously, what he meant was that the sight of my
whip would cause his mount to shut up like a knife,
as he had done on many previous occasions.

Of course I never for a moment imagined that the
famous jockey's implication was that, in a close finish,
he would have had reason to dread my prowess.

But there was at that time a so-called ** sporting "
paper (which had an ephemeral existence), the special
commissioner of which thought fit to carpet me for

CHASING AND RACING 175

what he termed my ** colossal conceit and impudence
in supposing that Watts had anything but complete
contempt for my powers as an amateur (and a by no
means distinguished one) when up against his brilliant
professional jockeyship," or words to that effect.
The paper in question was not worth powder and shot,
so I let the insult pass.

But I must repeat an innocent little quip which,
a propos this match, was promulgated by some joker
on the prompting, I suppose, of the ever ready ** Ben
Trovato." It is ** up agin me,'' but not unfunny.

The story goes that good old Jacobs, the bookie,
had cherished the belief that, despite the handicap of
jockeyship, Trelaske would win ; so his volume was
overflowing with fives to two (laid freely). He was
watching the finish through his binoculars, and when he
saw The Pusher and his pilot bearing down on my
labouring craft, he yelled out, ** Go it, Cockie ! Hit
him ! Hit him I" A pause — and then in a sub-
dued voice — ** By gum, he^s missed him I " My old
friend, the late Lord Burnham, loved this yarn, and
trotted it out whenever one or two were gathered
together in the club lounge and I ventured to allude
to my racing experiences. But the narrative was
always exploited with the best of good feeling and
kindness of heart.

CHAPTER XV

jA T the Doncaster sales I had been greatly

/ % struck with the appearance of a slashing

y %^ chestnut yearling filly bred by Mr. Russell

Swanwickj and already named by him

Dornroschen, by Prism — Rose Garden, by Kingcraft.

Her dam, Eglantyne, by Hermit. Prism was by

Speculum, but did not inherit the staying powers of the

latter. In fact, he was a sprinter pure and simple ;

though a grand looking horse and winner of the

Steward's Cup at Goodwood.

It is worthy of mention that Rose Garden was the
grandam of The Tetrarch ; though her daughter was
the result of mating, not with Prism, but with that
horse's sire. Speculum. It is possible that the sus-
picion of lack of stamina which attached to some of
The Tetrarch's stock may have arisen on account of
a weak branch on his dam's family tree. This inci-
dentally. To my delight Dornroschen was knocked
down to me for 1 50 guineas, and was sent to Abingdon
House, Newmarket, to be trained by Martin Gurry.
I saw nothing more of her until I visited the stables the
following spring. Gurry had no good word for the

big, lusty filly. " She's no good for racin', Squire,"

176

CHASING AND RACING 177

he informed me. ** Better 'ave *er 'ome and 'unt 'er."
I took his advice as far as change of locality was con-
cerned, but I did not dedicate her to foxhunting.

After a while Davis, the head lad of my private
establishment at Headbourne Worthy, told me that
the filly could go a bit ; so I entered her in a race at
Sandown, winner to be sold for ;^6oo. She was still
very big and above herself ; so much so, that I was
chaffed unmercifully in the paddock. I gave Weldon
the chance mount, and she won in gallant style, in a
big field, at 22-1.

I had hardly expected such a turn up, but had " a
pony each way '* on her. I had to go to 750 guineas
to retain her, and was thankful at that.

Now I had bought her with her engagements ; but
had struck her out of most of them, paying the minor
forfeits. However, I left her in a few cheap races ;
amongst them the Portsmouth Stakes, for three-year-
olds, at the Bibury Meeting (then held at Stockbridge),
to be ridden by members of that select and time-
honoured club.

When the day came round, it was found that Tom
Cannon's ch. c. Blanc had frightened away all opposi-
tion. Had he not beaten Ravensbury by three lengths
at even weights, and was not the latter always within
three lengths of the mighty but lazy Isinglass ? Yea,
verily !

But I was undismayed. Dornroschen had by this
time fined down, and had improved out of all knowledge

N

178 CHASING AND RACING

in the hands of Sam Pickering, to whom I had now
confided her. Besides, there was " a pony ** for the
second, and I was keen on a ride.

Whilst my beautiful filly was being saddled, she
caught the eye of the Prince of Wales (as King
Edward VII. was then).

" Has she any chance ? '* he asked me.

" Well, sir," I replied, ** they say that Blanc repre-
sents Isinglass at even weights ; so I suppose it will be
a case of 5-2 on him ! '*

** Why, they are laying 100-8 against yours,"
exclaimed the Prince. ** Have you backed her ? "

" Yes, sir. I have ;^50 on her S.P. on the off-
chance."

** And I shall tell Reuben (Sassoon) to take me
1000-80," and away went H.R.H. as cheerful as a
cricket.

Shortly before the Bibury meeting I had gone down
for a Dornroschen trial, and this came off one fine
morning by the side of the Limekilns gallop.

If I remember rightly the weights were, Blankney
5 yrs., II stone; Dornroschen 3 yrs., 11 stone 10 lbs.,
with Lord Rosslyn's Grong (I think it was) with a very
light stable boy up, to ensure a true pace. Sam rode
the big son of Hermit, whilst I steered " the star
turn." The spin was over six furlongs only, but I had
Blankney well tacked down before half the distance
was covered.

Dornroschen was turned out for the Portsmouth

CHASING AND RACING 179

Stakes in fine fettle, and gave me a splendid " feel **
when cantering to the New Mile starting-post.

I had had a good look at her opponent in the
paddock, and was not greatly impressed. He was a
washy chestnut, and had a rather shifty eye, but was of
good size, and showed considerable quality.

I had drawn the berth on the rails, and there I
stuck from start to finish. The Stockbridge com-
bination had a cut at us inside the distance ; but as I
kept my eye steadily fixed on home sweet home, I
failed to catch even a momentary glimpse of the
opposition, for I had a good three lengths to spare at
the finish.

I am told that when Blanc's rider (that accomplished
horseman, Arthur Coventry) asked him to go up to
Dornroschen his " answer was in the negative ! " A
clear case of " I could (perhaps) if I would, but I
wouldn't ! ''

After weighing in, and bowing (metaphorically)
to showers of congratulations, I strolled on to The
Lawn. Immediately cheers broke out from ** The
Rails."

" Come over here, Capting," shouted the usually
imperturbable Fry ; " we're going to have a statue
in gold with diamond spurs erected in your
honour."

" Did they bet ? " I asked.

"Bet 1 I should think they did bet ! Look
here ! " And he showed me his volume, where a

i8o CHASING AND RACING

long row of figures were emblazoned. One of ;^50oo
to 40O5 many of ;£2ooo to i6c, and a whole column of
;^iooo to 80 on Blanc.

This on Frfs book alone !

Roughly speaking, I believe the Ring netted
between ;^3o,ooo and ^40,000 on this simple and
otherwise unimportant spin between two starters in
a ;^300 race !

The fact of the matter is that backers had had a
lamentably sorry time on the previous day's racing, and
this was to have been the ** getting out " stakes. But
why the knights of the pencil were so accommodating
as to overlay their books, history sayeth not ; though
I shrewdly suspect that they had some prescience of
Dornroschen's real quality, or of Blanc's lack of
courage, and having gauged the situation accurately,
were quite prepared, and even anxious, to gamble, by
taking 1 00-8 on what they had quietly figured to be a
5-2 chance !

I had been doing my S.P. business with Richard
Fry's nephew, Walter of that ilk. Seeing an oppor-
tunity for pulling ** the old man's " leg, I could not
resist the temptation.

As " The Leviathan " was triumphantly showing
me his book, I asked quietly :

** By the way. Fry, you guarantee your nephew
• W. E. ' don't you .? "

" Why, certainly, Capting. How much had you
on with him } "

CHASING AND RACING i8i

** Oh, not much/' I answered casually. ** A matter
of ' a monkey ' S.P., that's all."

Fry's beatific smile faded away like an Eastern
sunset ; but, to do him justice, he did not turn a
hair, or alter the tone of his voice. All he said was,
** Good luck to you, Capting. That will be all
right ! "
K Then I undeceived him, and he heaved a gentle
sigh of relief. I have much to say about Dornroschen
and her remarkable achievements ; but must leave the
subject over for future exploitation, simply recording
here and now the fact that she won the Nottingham
Handicap (;£iooo) as a three-year-old^ ridden by Morny
Cannon and carrying 8 stone lo lbs. In so doing
she cut the time record for a mile, previously held by
the bold Bendigo, when as a jive-year-old he won the
** Lincolnshire " with only 8 stone 5 lbs. up !

** Some " filly, this daughter of Prism, eh ? For
nine years she held the record, and then it was lowered
by Wallace Johnson's Harrow at Lingfield.

The last of these strange eventful histories of
matches materialized under the following circum-
stances. My friend, Sir James Duke, ** owed me
one." Had I not intervened between his well-backed
favourite (on two occasions) and the winning post, on
my trusty old Weasel }

In a certain race, to wit, the Kempton Cup, there
were three runners only ; viz. Sir J. Blundell Maple's
Macuncas, Mr. B. L. Cooper's Blankney, and Sly

1 82 CHASING AND RACING

Shot, ridden respectively by Wingfield, Watts, and
Morny Cannon. The betting was close: ii-io
Macuncas, 9-4 Sly Shot, and 100-30 Blankney. The
weights were level, as all three were five-year-olds, and
the distance five furlongs. The result was also a near
thing between the favourite and the outsider Blankney.
The latter won by half a length, and when submitted to
auction he fell to my bid of ;^2oo.

Soon after this Macuncas won the Stewards'
Handicap Plate at Hurst Park, and was knocked
down to " Jimmy " Duke for exactly the same figure
as it had cost me to become the owner of Blankney.

I was discussing with my fellow amateur the result
of the previous race in which these redoubtable steeds
had met, and in which Jimmy's new purchase had
suffered a narrow defeat. He ventured the opinion
that were they to meet again these positions would be
reversed.

Here was my opportunity ! I immediately
butted in with the proposal of a friendly and
sporting match. Sir James rose to it. He made no
secret to his friends that Macuncas was a greatly
improved animal, and that he was convinced that he
could outmanoeuvre me in jockeyship. But I had a
card up my sleeve which the sportive owner of
Macuncas had not taken into consideration.

This Blankney was a colossal racehorse, one of the
biggest ever seen on the turf. He stood well over
seventeen hands and had enormous bone — in fact, the

CHASING AND RACING 183

very ideal of a weight carrier — which is rather odd,
seeing that he was by the sensational Derby winner
Hermit, who was by no means a " big 'un ! "

On the other hand, Macuncas was a medium-sized
and rather lightly-built customer, but a sharp mover,
which Blankney was not, though he had the action
of a pony, and when well under way could foot it very
respectably over five furlongs ; but was better at six —
his limit.

Now I figured it out that Blankney could carry
weight jar better than the other. In fact, I knew that he
could go just as far and fast with ten stone on his back
as with six ; for which reason he was of no earthly
use for trying two-year-olds, as he simply pulverized
the smartest and most ** classy ** of them, no matter
what weight was heaped on him.

Therefore I concluded that with 10 stone 7 lbs. each,
this match would be a real good thing for mine, pro-
vided I could jump him off on decent terms. I fancy
that at one time or another he had been badly kicked
at the post, for he often refused to join his horses and
line up properly, though in other respects he was a
model of decorum, with a beautiful mouth and manners
— a real treat to ride I
K Now this match had been arranged to take place
at Lewes on the first day, and was for ;£ioo a side, five
furlongs. I had Blankney in a club welter at the
distance named ; so I had asked Jimmy if he would
consent to the match being postponed to the second

1 84 CHASING AND RACING

day, provided that it could be so arranged. His reply
was that if I would double the stakes he was quite
willing, which was in itself a startling proof of his
confidence in his ability to put ** paid " to my account.
Of course I jumped at the offer ; so the stage was clear
for the performance. I had made a pretty shrewd
guess at the tactics which my rival had decided on.
I knew he would try to cut me down for speed in the
early stages of running, and then strive to keep his
advantage before Blankney's longer stride could tell
effectively.

But I did not calculate on his allowing me to take
the lead at the start. However, this is what he did.
He lay behind me for a couple of furlongs, and then
tried to " rush '* me in the dip. But it was no good.
With lo stone 7 lbs. on the back of each, Blankney could
go faster than his smaller and less lusty rival, so he
passed the post a very clever winner by half a length
(exactly the same distance as separated them when they
had previously met, with professional jockeys up),
never having been headed from start to finish. So
much for Macuncas I

CHAPTER XVI

^ lA T Headbourne Worthy we had a small but

/ % fairly useful string besides Dornroschen,

y %. who was only at the home establishment

for a short time before I sent her on to Sam

Pickering's establishment at Kennet. Trelaske was

the " daddy,'* and he did yeoman service as a trial nag,

besides picking up a few nice little races. I won the

High Peak welter (for gentlemen riders) on him at

Derby. On that occasion I had some doughty

opponents, including Arthur Coventry and ** Rock."

Going to the post, the latter said, ** You (with the

accent on the personal pronoun) will win this," and

I did, quite comfortably. The race was over the

straight mile. I jumped off in front, made all the

running, and won by a length.

Originally Trelaske had belonged to ** Charlie "
Merry, who chipped me because I had entered the son
of The Miser in a two-mile race.

" Why, when I had him," he sneered, ** he could
not stay five furlongs 1 "

" That is exactly the reason why I have put him to
long distance work," was my cryptic reply, which
may have sounded rather paradoxical ; but the fact is

185

1 86 CHASING AND RACING

that some horses are gifted with a turn of speed which
they cannot keep up for more than, say, four furlongs,
when fully extended. Consequently they are failures
as sprinters, but may blossom into useful customers
over long distances, because they are not put to
extreme pressure in the early phases of a race, and so
have a reserve of speed to finish with. That is why
one of the best methods of obtaining smart performers
over the sticks is to watch carefully the five-furlong
selling races during the ** legitimate ** season, and if
you see a youngster out by itself at three and a half or
four furlongs, but nowhere at the finish, put in a claim
and lay your purchase by until the following season,
when, if judiciously trained and schooled, it is almost
certain to win a hurdle race — of sorts.

I once ran Trelaske in an all-aged long-distance
handicap (selling race) decided at Newmarket over the
Caesarewitch course. He ran well, but found one of
the younger generation too good for him. I have
already chronicled how I won the match with him
against George Thursby's Foghorn, and also how he
was just beaten for The Queen's Prize at Kempton.

Before my horses were dispersed he was sold
privately to Wm. Stevens, the trainer, for ** a monkey,''
but his new owner had no luck with him.

Trelaske was a kind and amiable creature, but
rather nervous. He hated the very sight of the whip.
To attempt to get a bit extra out of him by the use of
that cruel and superfluous instrument of torture was

CHASING AND RACING 187

to court disaster. He had had some I A curious
incident once happened when I was riding him
at Lewes, It goes to show what extraordinarily
retentive memories horses have. He was entered in
a mile and a half race which started on the remote side
of the course. I was the first to leave the paddock.
By way of giving my mount a pipe opener I bowled
him sharply along the straight. All of a sudden he
pulled up dead, and stuck his toes in. Nothing I
could do in the way of coaxing or objurgations could
induce him to budge an inch. I now recognized that
we were at the five furlong starting-post^ from which
he had not raced since his two-year-old days ; but he
evidently knew and recognized it as the correct mark
for his business. By-and-by the rest of the field
came cantering past us, whereupon this rival of
** Mr. Datas *' consented to join the gay throng.
Incidentally it was at this meeting, if my memory does
not play me false, that I had the unpleasant and sad-
dening experience of seeing a man killed by lightning.
Just as I was dressing, after a race in which I had taken
part, a terrific thunder-storm broke over the stands.
A blinding flash of lightning was instantaneously
followed by a deafening crash. A great commotion
at the entrance followed. I ran out and saw that a
drag with a pair of big bays belonging to Mr. Steanning
Beard was almost out of hand. As the coachman was
trying to master them, another vivid streak descended.
He fell off the box and lay still, whilst luckily a plucky

1 88 CHASING AND RACING

bobby had got to the head of the terrified horses.
When we picked the unfortunate Jehu up he was
stone dead. At the back of his neck there was a
charred hole as if a red-hot poker had been thrust into
it. His nether garments were tattered and scorched,
the cushion of the driver*s seat was ripped open, and
the course of the electric fluid could be traced by the
destruction of one of the spokes of the off fore wheel,
the iron tyre of which was torn from its holding.
What a titanic force is this which we dare to chain to
our uses !

To hark back to the marvellous memory possessed
by the equine race. It will be remembered that I had
a word to say about a favourite hunter of mine —
Melbury, to wit — whom I hunted with my M. and
H. V. Harriers when residing at Missenden Abbey.
Three years later ^ when master of the O.B.H., I had by
chance to pass that ancient landmark, having whipped
off some six miles distant. I was walking the hounds
quietly back to kennel, when, on reaching the Abbey,
Melbury suddenly turned in at the gates and trotted
up the drive. Out of curiosity I allowed him to ** gang
his gait." Sure enough he never stopped until he was
in the stable yard. He had never been to Missenden
between times.

A useful and handsome, but very unlucky, horse
that we had at Headbourne Worthy was Chevy Chase,
a chestnut by Ossian (winner of the St. Leger of
1383) — I Spy. I won only one race, a mile and a

CHASING AND RACING 189

half welter at Croydon, with him, but he was second
to the Cassarewitch winner Speed in the ;^iooo Rose
Handicap at Newmarket.

There was an occasion when he ought to have
scored at Hurst Park. " Squire '* Abingdon was
riding the favourite, which ran out six furlongs from
home. I was then left with the lead, but instead of
making the best of my way home, I began to take
matters easy, to such an extent that George managed
to bring his mount back to the straight, where he
rode him to such good purpose that he was able to
pounce upon us at the distance and put ** paid '* to the
whole bunch.
K Later, I was riding " Chevy '* in one of the Bibury
Corinthians," when he suddenly stumbled and
stopped as if shot. Both bag sinews had gone. Of
course I dismounted, but it was with great difficulty
that the poor creature hobbled back to the paddock.
Davis did not consider his case hopeless, and so skil-
fully was the horse treated that the following season
he came out comparatively sound. He ran in the
Ascot Stakes and led into the straight, where the
old trouble found him out and he broke down beyond
repair.

Another of my cheap purchases (under ** Lord
Exeter's Conditions ") was a colt called Andante, who
won the valuable Orleans Nursery at Sandown, and
other nice races. As a three-year-old he was seldom
in a race with a weight that would permit of my riding

I90 CHASING AND RACING

him. I had one go at Lewes and finished third in a
big field. I had great hopes of him in later days ;
but he contracted a fatal stable vice, which sapped his
strength and substance.

A little fellow worthy of note was one " Penny
Plain," by Discount — St. Valentine (note the nomen-
clature ; I won a two-guinea prize for it). This was
the first winning racehorse I ever bred. He first saw
the light at my Chorleywood Stud farm. His sire.
Discount, who won the 1880 Portland Plate at Don-
caster, was given to me by Lord Chesham ; but at the
time, I had only a few galloway and hunter mares to
put to him. One of the former was the dam of Penny
Plain. As she was incapable of winning even a selling
hurdle (pony) race, it says much for Discount's prowess
as a sire, or the excellence of the Chorleywood pastur-
age, that she should produce a colt capable of winning
a couple of superior selling races at big meetings.
He was only a midget, very little over fifteen hands,
but as pretty as a picture. When a two-year-old
I gave him to ** cousin Ted," in whose colours
he ran and won. This emboldened his owner to
invest in a useful plater of the name of Stanton, with
which he annexed " The City Bowl " at Salisbury.

I have already explained how — because I had a
limited income and no capital — I was unable to buy
expensive yearlings on the " p'raps " principle. I
had to content myself with picking up undersized
youngsters at the sales ; or " platers " at racecourse

CHASING AND RACING "

auctions that I considered might be capable of develop-
ment and improvement One time and another I had
some funny old crocks to deal with, together with a
wonderful collection of youngsters which no one else
would bid for. But having regard to the material
which I was able to command, I think I am entitled to
Consider myself to have been uncommonly lucky as
regards my selections.

I have had an eye for a ho^-se, hound, or dog from
my earliest days, and was always well furnished with
that critical faculty which enables the expert to tot up
the points of symmetry and balance in any domestic
animal which he has under observation. Perhaps it
was this gift, plus a kind of intuition, which enabled
me to pick up, for a mere song, animals which bore my
verdant livery with some sort of distinction. The
following schedule is surely a revelation of cheap
winners of sorts : —

Price paid.
£ s.

* I. Armada, br. c. by Fermandez — Sota di Roma by

Pero Gomez . . . . . . , . . . 50 o

(Winner of the Tattersall Sale Stakes, Newmarket.
Beaten a short head (through carelessness of
his jockey), in the Great Metropolitan, etc.)

2. Weasel, br. g. i2i o

• (Winner of 8 firsts, i dead heat, i second, i un-
placed.)

3. Trelaske, br. g. by The Miser 126 10

(Winner of High Peake Welter (Derby), £100
match ; 2nd in Queen's Prize, Kempton, etc.)

* Purchased at auction as yearling.

192 CHASING AND RACING

Price paid.

* 4. DoRNROSCHEN, ch. f. by Prism — Rose Window . . 150 o

(Winner Nottingham Autumn Handicap, £1000,
setting up a mile time record which she held for
seven years ; won Portsmouth Stakes, Bibury ;
2nd Hurst Park Cup, beaten half length,
giving Victor Wild 9 lbs., etc.)
5. Blankney, b. h. by Hermit — Assegai . . . . 200 o
(Won Bibury Welter, ^£400 match, etc.)

* 6. Andante, br. c 40 o

(Won the Orleans Nursery, Sandown, etc.)

* 7. Chevy Chase, ch. h. by Ossian — I Spy . . . . 100 o

(Won Corinthian Welter, Croydon, and 2nd to
Speed for j£iooo Rose long distance Handicap,
Newmarket.)

* 8. Chandelier, ch. c. by Prism — ^Hostess . . . . 35 o

(Won £200 selling race, Kempton.)

* 9. Guinevere, b. f. by Laureate Chanthus . . . . 20 o

(Won twice Alexandra Palace, etc. In Belgium

she won over ;£i5oo in stakes.)
10. Latimer, ch. g. by Touchet Our Mary. A gift horse.

(Won Boden Eccentric Stakes, Long Distance

Welter, Lewes, etc.)

* II. Belle Brummel, by Beau Brummel 25 o

(Won selUng race, Manchester, 24 runners.)

12. The Reefer, (winner of Chester Cup) . . . . 25 o
(Won selling hurdle race, Kempton.)

13. Penny Plain, by Discount — St. Valentine. Home bred-
(Won selling race, Kempton.)

14. Palmwearer, ch. c. 100 o

(Won selling race, ^£200, Kempton.)

15. Glenquoich, ch. g. ICO o

(Won selling hunters* flat race, Windsor.)

Total .. .. j £1092 10

* Purchased at auction as yearlings.

f These horses won over ^£5000 when running in my colours.

CHASING AND RACING

193

The only cheap horses bought for less than {/2.00
which ran for me and failed to win were, I think, that
king of thieves Roscidus and a filly called Pretty Wit ;
but there were one or two which I bought at auction
as yearlings which could not be trained, including a
very beautiful filly called Reve Royal, by Royal
Hampton — The Dream. She showed extraordinary
promise and won a big trial, but subsequently split
a pastern and never ran.

After Dornroschen's amazing performance in the
Portsmouth Stakes, I was encouraged to invest my
winnings and to launch out. Lord Rosslyn was selling
his string, and Sam Pickering was very keen on my
buying the ch. filly Sybil Roy, who had won a high-
class two-year-old stake at Newmarket, and another
important race, also a rather small bk. c. called Grong,
who, Sam said, was sure to pick up a nice race. Well,
Sybil Roy was knocked down to me for 1200 guineas,
and Grong for 300 guineas. Neither was ever even
placed after becoming my property ! Sybil Roy
first turned jady and then became an absolute maniac.
No one could do anything with her. I sold her as a
make-weight to the elder Sir John Thursby, when he
took over Dornroschen, Blankney & Co. His son
George afterwards told me that the filly had been
covered by the last-named, and that she had thrown a
foal — I forget its sex — which turned out as madly
intractable as its dam. So much for my " invest-
A propos " forgetfulness of sex,** a good

o

194 CHASING AND RACING

story is told of Lord Marcus Beresford, who had
become a proud father on the morning of a fashionable
race meeting, at which he was due to officiate as
starter. He was cantering to the post past the club
lawn, when he was hailed by a fair friend, who called
after him—

** Hi, Markie, I hear you have become a father
this morning. Is it a boy or a girl ? **

Turning his head over his shoulder, but without
pulling up. Lord Marcus shouted back —

" I don't know. I forgot to look ! *'

:hapter XVII

BEFORE finishing with horses which I have
owned and ridden, I must say a few more
words about Dornroschen, as she was un-
doubtedly the best class animal that ever
passed through my hands or took me on as an
outside passenger.

When she passed into the ownership of the elder
Sir John Thursby she was the victim of one of the most
untoward accidents that could possibly befall. For
the second year in succession, she was entered for the
Hurst Park Cup, and the weight allotted was such
that, if anything like in her best form, she was ** the
■catch of the season." And so thought George of the
■House of Thursby. Twelve months previously, in
■the corresponding event, she had presented the all-
'conquering Victor Wild with a lump of weight and had
run him to a head. The handicapper had now re-
versed the position, and Dornroschen was set to receive
a similar poundage. What could be nicer, seeing
that the twain were of the same age }

The public view coincided, so that 4-1 was the
best price obtainable. The filly was as fit as the
proverbial fiddle, and everything pointed to a happy

195

196 CHASING AND RACING

issue for all concerned. Of course I was in the swim,
for George and his excellent father were ever ready to
** slip me over the goods ! **

But an evil " hoodoo " was lurking round the
corner. Literally so, for on the field emerging from
the paddock, which is situated at the back of the
stands, and therefore out of view of the crowd, a mad
brute called Galloping Dick, belonging to Douglas
Baird, and ridden by Freddie Pratt, suddenly bolted
and barged into Dornroschen, catching her fairly on
the flank, and sending her and her jockey — Allsopp —
to the ground, where they lay with all the wind
knocked out of them. It was quite three minutes
before the filly was on her feet again and Allsopp in
the saddle. Meanwhile George and I, who were in
the stand, were wondering where on earth Dornroschen
could be, for the rest of the field were already at the
post. My companion was just about to start on a
voyage of discovery when we viewed our hope and joy
being led along the back stretch.

We could not make it out.

Had the full significance of the contretemps been
known to the Ring, it is reasonable to suppose that the
bonnie chestnut would have " gone out with the
washing,'* but as it was, the price did not lengthen.

At last they were off ! As the field swung round
into the straight, with its rather short run in, it was seen
that Dornroschen was leading on the rails and ap-
parently going easily ; but close home she was tackled

CHASING AND RACING 197

by her famous opponent of yore, Victor Wild, who,
after a short, sharp tussle, pegged her back into the
proxime accessit position, for the second time of
asking !

It is practically certain that this obviously good
thing, on the book, would have materialized ; albeit,
as previously stated, I had by that time come to the
conclusion that my erstwhile flyer did not really stay
a mile, malgre her capture of the time record at that
distance. Moreover, I feel convinced that after going
seven furlongs she was subject to some spasm or
stitch, which caused her to shut up like a knife, or to
swerve right across the course, for I am sure she was
not a wilful jade, as some have supposed. I wonder
how many race horses have suffered ignominy and have
been decorated with ** the rogue's badge '' owing to
similar causes over which they have no control, and
which do not, in any way, owe their origin to tempera-
ment.
b On the other hand, I also wonder how many shifty
customers are so created by the cruel and injudicious
use of whip and spur ?

A pro-pos Dornroschen being " chucked into *' a
handicap, I recall that she was entered as a three-year-
old in the Cambridgeshire, the same autumn that she
won the Nottingham Autumn Handicap, in which, as
stated, she established the mile time record. In the
former race Major Egerton had treated her as if her
name were " mud " or " dud," or something equally

198 CHASING AND RACING

contemptible, for he had actually placed her at the
bottom of the handicap !

Her success at Nottingham entailed a 14 lbs,
penalty for the great Newmarket race, so I struck her
out.

On the morning when the latter event was set
down for decision, I ran across the official handicapper
in the paddock. ** Here, I say. Cox,** he greeted me
with, in his genial way, ** I owe you a great debt of
gratitude. How can I repay you ? **

** As how .'^ ** I asked innocently.

" Oh, for running that filly of yours, Dornroschen,
at Nottingham and picking up a penalty. Why, my
dear chap, I had made you a handsome present of
The Cambridgeshire, and you go and chuck it away
as if it were not worth your serious consideration."

Well, that may have been so ; I have felt regrets
myself, and yet I have an idea that the " extra bit " up
the hill would have found out the weak spot in my
favourite.* On " the book " she undoubtedly was,
as the gallant Major said, a stone-cold certainty !

Oh yes, taking all in all, Dornroschen was as-
suredly a most unlucky animal, but one of singular
brilliance, when conditions favoured her.

There was a time, well within my memory, when
every one believed in a " Jockey Ring," and probably
not without cause, though I am inclined to think that

* Also there was the question of a suitable pilot. Dornros-
chen was not a " boy's mount."

CHASING AND RACING 199

the pessimists and cynics were wont to exaggerate
their figuring of the situation. On one or two occa-
sions I myself harboured well-founded suspicions, and
in one particular instance the facts were eloquent of
the truth of the supposition.

The case in point which I propose to quote is
gospel ; but for obvious reasons, names of all con-
cerned, except my own, must be omitted.

I had tried a youngster which I owned, to be pretty
useful in his class — he was only a little one. Let us
call him " Ballroom." I entered him in a selling race
at one of our leading suburban meetings. Not having
secured a jockey I was making enquiries, when one of
our leading artists in the saddle accosted me, asking if
I had engaged any one to ride my representative. On
my answering in the negative, he expressed his willing-
ness to be the pilot. Now this was a real top sawyer
among the jockeys of the day. We will name him,
quite fictitiously, ** Corfield.'*

Of course I jumped at the offer.

I had presented my S.P. merchant with a commis-
sion for ** a pony '* each way in the morning. In the
betting Ballroom opened at 5-1, probably on account
of the said commission ; but an ominous opposition
set in and he was driven out to 100-8, in spite of, or
possibly on account of, the " reputation '* (this is
cryptic !) of his jockey.

There was a big field, and in the race my green
jacket was conspicuous in the ruck, but was never seen

200 CHASING AND RACING

in a very prominent position. Ballroom finished about
seventh. Subsequently I asked Corfield what he
thought of his mount, and whether he could not, by a
little extra pressure, have gained the place for which I
had backed my colt, and which I had urged the jockey
to do his utmost to secure.

"He's a very nice little fellow. Captain," replied
that worthy. " I could not have got a place, even if
I had knocked him about, and that would have been
a pity; but if I were you I would put him in the
overnight seller. I will ride him again for you. He
may do better next time.'*

I demurred, because I felt sure that some of those
that had been well in front of Ballroom would be re-
entered ; and so indeed it turned out. But Corfield
was so insistent that I was persuaded to fall in with
his views. Sure enough, when it came to the race on
the morrow, the names of the gees which had finished
2nd, 3rd, and 5th were amongst those hoisted in the
frame ; so I was thoroughly surprised when Corfield
took me aside and urged me to support Ballroom with
my maximum — in vulgar parlance to ** put my shirt on
him."

" But," said I, " there are at least three in the race
that were a street in front of him yesterday."

** That may be," replied the jockey, " but your
little fellow ran rather green ; now that his eyes are
open he is sure to do better."

There was something in the argument, but ** not

CHASING AND RACING 201

sufficient to justify a plunge/* as I meekly put it to
Corfield.

** Well, Captain, don't say I didn't give you the
office ; it is time I was up." And away he went.

I was left guessing.

I had not backed Ballroom this time S.P., so now
went into the ring to see what was happening and
approached Fry.

" What price mine to a pony ? '* I asked.

** Five to two to you, Capting. Here, 5-2 on the
field, who'll have it ? "

" You are off the line. Fry," I said. ** I am not
backing the favourite, I want a fair quotation miney

** Which is yours, Capting ? "
H " Ballroom ! "

^ ** That is favourite. I'll lay you 100-40 or any
part of it."

** Nothing doing ! "

" Best have a bit, Capting. I'm told it's a cert ;
it'll be 9-4 directly."

I took the 100-40, feeling quite bewildered.

On all sides the ** nuts " and ** fans " were tumbling
over one another to back what seemed to me, who
ought to know, to be an utterly false favourite.
I| By-and-by the shout was 7-4 on the field, and
nothing asked for, except my inconspicuous little
joker.

As soon as the flag fell I could see the green jacket
well in the van, and at the distance it flashed out and

202 CHASING AND RACING

eventually passed the post quite two lengths to the
good.

" What did I tell you ? " asked Corfield, when he
had weighed in.

" Oh, you told me quite a lot," I said; ** but you
did not tell me alL I guessed the rest ! "

Here, I say, Captain, I hope you don't think

" No, Corfield, I don't think — / know I " and I
turned on my heel, leaving the jockey looking unutter-
able things.

This coup had been cleverly engineered. I had
been given the tip all right (Corfield, to do him justice,
would never let an owner down if he could avoid it);
but I was much annoyed that the pawn in the game
had been one of my modest home-trained gees.

It was in connection with this unsatisfactory era
of Turf history that a certain gentleman trainer, a
great friend of mine, told me an amusing yarn.

He had tried a two-year-old colt to be something
out of the common, and figured that he had quite a
stone in hand in a certain nursery.

He also possessed a diminutive apprentice named,
let us say, Martin Hannighan (obviously a lad from
the distressful country), who had shown himself to
have head and hands and an excellent seat. So on
the occasion of the debut of this smart colt, he decided
to put Martin up and thus to reap the benefit of the
apprentice allowance.

CHASING AND RACING 203

When the midget was mounted, my friend, him-
self ** a paddy," said to him, " Mind ye' here, Martin,
uts winnin' this race ye'll be, but it's not be a length av
a shtreet ! Just come along home quiet and com-
fortable, wid just a length in front av the next to ye.
Is it understandin' ye are, ye little gossoon ? "

H " Aw faith, Misther Terrance, uts meself as knows
phwhat ter deu, and uts doin' ut oi'll be ! "

But to the amazement of the trainer-owner, no
sooner was the "off'* signalled than Martin was seen
to shoot his mount out, and coming along hell for
leather, to win by a dozen lengths. He entered the
paddock gates grinning from ear to ear ; and here his
employer, boiling with righteous wrath, met him.

K " OiVe done ut, Misther Terrie," yelped the lad

* in high glee.

** Done ut .'' " gasped Terrance, ** Oi shud think
ye have done ut ! YeVe exposed me colt, and now
phwat chance will that same be having in the next
handicap ? Phwat did I tell yez, ye blitherin' little
omadhaun ? I told ye to win by a length of yez
mount and not be the length av a shtreet ! "

" Aw faith, I knows, Misther Terrance," mur-
mured the now sobering child ; ** but ye see, whin we
was loined up, uts meself as was squozed in atween

Misther and Misther (naming the Robber

Chief of the Ring, and his lieutenant, the terror of the
lesser fry and apprentices, and the despair of the handi-
cappers, but withal very capable and " fashionable "

204 CHASING AND RACING

jockeys), so phlaze yez 'anner uts meself pwhat thought
oi'd best be comin' the shortest way home, the whoilst
ut wuz a divirs chance they'd be givin* me ! **

On consideration my friend whole-heartedly
endorsed the policy of his apprentice.

Here is another story of crookedness, but this time
the alert jockey was the means of defeating the intended
ramp on the part of the owner.

I happened to be in ** the provinces '* engaged in
the " gentle art of the angle,** in the vicinity of a local
racecourse, where meetings were about to be held
under N.H. rules. At the hotel where I was staying
I ran across a certain gentleman rider whose name was,
let us say, " Bob Clasper.** Bob was " some *' rider
over sticks and between flags, believe me ! He was
dead keen on the game, and went "on circuit '* to all the
little country meetings. When he chanced on a good
thing he was wont to plank down a modest stake, and
by so doing, managed to pay his " expenses.** Occa-
sionally an " extra special ** would induce him to have
a splash.

Now I had done him a good turn once upon a time,
and he was so grateful that he implored me to give the
trout a rest, and to come over to the said meeting, when
he would put me on to something on which, as he put
it, I could " wager my happy home.** He proceeded:

** Cockie, old sport, I am riding in " The Farmers*
Steeplechase,** the last race on the card, and I am
sure to win. My mount is a local, a sure and safe

CHASING AND RACING 205

jumper, and has been tried to have a couple of stone
and the length of Wigmore Street in hand."

■ ** Well, Bob, you're very optimistic. Why the
good thing is sure to be blown. It will be a case of
laying long odds on, won't it ? "

" Oh no, my Cockie 1 Trust your Uncle Bob.
He knows something, and will engineer it for all it's
worth."

I was left guessing — as usual.

Now there were two days' racing at the pitch in
question, and Bob's wonderful " cinch " was entered
on each of these. When the betting opened The
Ploughman, as the horse was nos called, was a hot
favourite, but no one would invest a penny on him.
The owner was looked upon as ** hot stuff," and those
who were ** in the know " always sat tight until they
sensed that the stable money was on.

On this occasion nothing could be traced to the
right source. The consequence was that the lads with
the pencil began to open out, and soon "5-1 The
Ploughman " was offered. All of a sudden two quiet
individuals, unknown to local talent, began snapping
up the price, and again the ** tiller of the soil " hardened
in price. Meanwhile Bob had weighed out and was
mounting, when the owner approached and addressed
him in an undertone.

** Look 'ee 'ere, Muster Clarsper, just canter down
until ye gits tu the end of the enclosure rails. Oi'll
be standin' 'undred yards further down ter give 'ee

2o6 CHASING AND RACING

yer instructions — see ? '' Bob signified his assent,
and when he arrived at the trysting place, pulled up and
leaned over to hear what his patron had to impart.

" Now, guv'nor,'* began the latter, ** I want yer
ter take pertic'ler notice of wot I tells yer. A nod's
as good as a wink to a blind *os, ain't it ? Well, I
don't want yer to knock the old varmint about in this
race, twiggy voo ? 'Es in the Farmers' Cup ter-
morrer, an' us can get a good price. Ter tell yer the
honest trooth, I 'aven't a bean on 'im for this yere
journey. You kin ride 'im ter-morrer, an' stand in
fer all yer wants. I needn't say no more, need I .'' "

" Good gracious ! " exclaimed Bob in well feigned
amazement. " Do you mean to tell me you have not
backed the horse for this race ? Oh, that's a great
pity ! If you haven't backed him, / have. Five
fifties, old sport ! And what's more, I'm going to
win I " (And win he did, in a common trot.) " Gee
up, hoss ! " and away he cantered to the post.

For a moment the owner was struck dumb and
paralytic. Then, having found voice, he gave way to
the most obscene and blood-curdling invectives.

** Come back yo.u x-y-z scoundrel I a-b-c your
soul ! I'll report you to the stewards you d-k-1 I "

Wafted back on the gentle breeze came the faint
retort, ^'X-T-Z scoundrel yourself , Report away ! "

The following yarn may be a chestnut, but it is
probably new to some of the readers, if there are any,
of these rambling reminiscences.

CHASING AND RACING 207

An old jockey, of transcendent fame in his day, lay
dying. He sent for his son, a promising apprentice
attached to a " fashionable ** stable.

** Robbie, my lad," he said in a feeble voice, ** my
number's up. I can't keep out of the way of the
black horse. He's at my girths — I'm beat to blazes ;
but before I weigh in I want to give you a word of
advice. It is, never speak to another jockey in a race ! I
did once, and once only, and have regretted it ever
since. It was this way, sonnie. Me and Jimmy
Bowster was out by ourselves in a mile and a half race
at Ally Pally ; rest of the field strung out and off the
map. As we comes round the bend for home the
last time I shouts, * Go on, Jimmy, / ain^t a spinnin ! '
* The 'ell you ain't 1 ' he sings out. * No more ain't
/,* and off he falls ^ leavin' me to come 'ome all on me
lonesome ! "

CHAPTER XVIII

DURING the "eighties^' of last century
there appeared on the **Turf** a young
sportsman who attracted a great deal of
attention. He was known as ** The
Jubilee Plunger," though his correct patronymic was
Ernest Benzon.

In the genesis of his career he was possessed of
very great wealth, the unrestricted handling of which
devolved upon him when he attained his majority,
which happened to be in the year when the somewhat
austere Queen Victoria celebrated the jubilee of her
protracted reign ; hence the first word of the term
bestowed on young Benzon.

It is hardly to be wondered at that his exchequer

attracted the wolves and hyenas of the Turf and their

jackal parasites. Poor Ernest soon proved himself

to be a striking example of that paradoxical production

the " fly flat." He rated his own intellect very highly,

but was no match for the many devices of crookdom,

which were directed at his purse strings, despite the

fact that he had enlisted the personal patronage of

no less an expert in turf and other matters than Sir

George Chetwynd, who undertook the office of guide,

208

CHASING AND RACING 209

philosopher, and friend to the youngster. The sporting
baronet did his best to shield his protege from the
clutches of the harpies, but Benzon was of a headstrong
and wilful disposition. He executed his own com-
missions and made direct attacks on the ring in
propria persona.

It was not long before I became acquainted with
this tall, slim, and dark young fellow, whom I found
to be cheery, warm-hearted, and sympathetic ; more-
over, we shared the mutual love of animals and little
children.

In his latter days of adversity, when living in
Jersey, this excellent trait stood him in good stead, for
he was never so happy as when wandering on the sea-
girt confines of that island with a troop of ragged
children and mongrel dogs at his heels. Before this
he had resorted to the most desperate plunges, generally
in some selling or other unimportant event, whereby
he was, of course, asking for trouble — and he got it !
I fancy he was freely fleeced at cards ; but one of his
favourite methods of burning cash, and daylight, was
to challenge at pyramids those who were obviously a
class above him, as regards that excellent fighting
game ; with the result that, in some cases, he had the
pleasure of winning two or three games running, only
to lose all the financial gains he had so acquired, owing
to the fact that his opponent had made certain of winning
the next two^ when the " Plunger'' had quadrupled the
stakes on himself !

p

2IO CHASING AND RACING

I was told that Benzon was a pretty good player;
so one evening after dinner I took him home and gave
him a try out on the domestic cloth of green. He
began by conceding me two balls off the table. That
proved too much of a handicap. In the end we were a
fair match when he owed me two^ at which I won four
games out of seven. We were playing for money
too ! One penny a ball ! On this showing I figured
that he had overrated his skill, for I do not count
myself much more than ** useful '* at the game.

There came a time when this really nice young
fellow side-slipped ; though I am sure the " crime *'
was committed owing to thoughtless innocence rather
than through deliberate turpitude.

After he had " done in " his fortune, a certain
allowance had been arranged for him by his trustees ;
but, bless you, he found it impossible to keep within
the allotted figures thereof ; consequently he was
always ** on the rocks." He happened to be on the
Riviera one winter, where, finding himself cashless, he
resorted to a very primitive and foolish method of
supplying the deficiency. He proceeded to Nice
where he obtained certain valuable goods on credit^
which, when delivered, were handed over to Mon
Oncle at he Mont de Piete^ in exchange for a wad of
** mille ** notes. This escapade led to his arrest, and
eventually to his incarceration in a French prison.
Whilst on remand, our mutual friend Day (one of the
** Daddies " of the pigeon-shooting cult, who was a

CHASING AND RACING 211

kindly, if gruff, soul) visited the prisoner at Nice. The
latter was shown into the reception-room wearing a
black cape and hood which concealed his features.
Before Day could say a word, Benzon shouted out
excitedly :

"Hulloa, Day. Who won the Grand Prix?"
(meaning the great Monte Carlo pigeon-shooting
event).

The indomitable sporting afflatus was still alive.
The last I saw of this " curiosity " was at Romano's.
He had then grown fat and flabby, but not, I think,
from excess, for I never remember to have seen him the
worse for liquor. In fact, as regards indulgence in
the three lethal W's, " Wine, Weeds, and Women," he
was moderation personified ; but nevertheless he died
at a comparatively early age. Those who regretted
him most and who remembered him with kindliest
feelings, were those who had benefited least by his
wild gambling and lavish generosity. R.I.P.!

There is an erroneous impression extant that
" Tod " Sloan was the first American jockey to exploit
the ** monkey crouch " in this country. As a matter
of fact, it was introduced by a compatriot of his, one
Simms, a mulatto or quadroon, who won several races
and attracted considerable attention, owing to what
was at that time considered an extraordinary seat.
But even before Simms there was an inconspicuous
amateur who adopted the " crouch " in a modified

212 CHASING AND RACING

form. As late as 1921 a leading sporting paper
published a par in words to the following effect :

** An old race-goer says * that Harding Cox had the
worst seat and the best hands of any jockey he ever saw.
Cox was " crouching " before Sloan, or even Simms,
was ever heard of' And this is a fact. When hunt-
ing, I rode very short, and leant well forward in my
seat. When racing, I found that by so doing I avoided,
to a certain extent, wind pressure^ which even in a two-
mile hunters* flat race is very obvious to the rider.
By accentuating this position, I discovered that my
mount had the advantage oi freer hind leverage. Per-
haps that is why I managed to win on animals that had
been looked upon as ** impossibles," ** back numbers,"
rogues, and jades. My theory was endorsed by Tod
Sloan himself. I had been brought into touch with
the little man soon after his arrival in England, and,
being greatly interested in his methods, I cultivated
his acquaintance.

One day, when we were seated on the Terrace
at Monte Carlo, we discussed the merits of ** the
crouch." Tod not only discoursed sweetly on the
topic, but drew a spirited sketch of a race horse and
its anatomy, explaining how the distribution of weight
under his system helped the general action of the
animal. He went on :

" Say, I figure that this seat has considerable
advantage; but it's no cinch for any guy or dud jockey
that takes a hand. Believe me, sir, there's nothing to

CHASING AND RACING 213

it unless you have the whole bunch of tricks up your
sleeve. Gee, if you begin monkeying with the
proposition you're sure going to get unstuck ! "

These words of wisdom from the wizard of the
West have been amply justified, seeing what deplorable
horsemanship was obvious when " the crouch '* came
into universal use. Sloan managed to win on horses
which had erstwhile been regarded as only fit for cats'
meat. Apart from his seat, he had the best of hands, and
always seemed to be on most excellent terms with his
mounts. The flail — as a means of exacting an expiring
effort from a horse which had already exerted its last
normal effort to win — was " off the map " as far as Tod
was concerned, for he was a genuine lover of horse-flesh.

He was a manikin of brains, and a keen observer
and judge of humanity. It is true that his phenomenal
success and the adulation which it involved, caused his
cranium considerably to expand; but if you could get
him alone and in one of his more reasonable frames of
mind, you would discover in him a philosopher and a
wit, broad-minded, sympathetic, and with a heart out
of all proportion to the body which contained it.

It had been supposed that Sloan's disappearance
from active connections with the Turf was due to his
being " warned off." Such, however, was not the case.
■ He had been indulging in heavy betting on one
of his mounts, Codoman, on which he ** had a hunch "
that he was sure to win the Cambridgeshire.

This was, strictly speaking, against a rule, which,

k

214 CHASING AND RACING

if not actually winked at by the authorities, was certainly
more honoured in the breach than in the observance
by contemporary jockeys. The good thing came un-
stuck by a narrow margin. Tod not only " dropped a
packet/' as the saying goes, but was discreetly advised
not to apply for a renewal of his riding license. So that
he cannot be said to have been ** warned off.'* A
distinction with a subtle difference !

When he returned to his native " States ** he was
on the down grade. I heard of him in " Trisco " as
running a billiard saloon, and using the hard and
verdant board as his nightly couch. He married an
exceedingly bright and attractive little compatriot,
to wit, the popular musical comedy actress, Julia
Sanderson ; but, alas, I fear that he did not ride
strictly to orders, for in this case he really was ** warned
o£F" in the Divorce Court ; or perhaps the boot was
on the other leg, I forget !

On one occasion Tod was cantering to the post at
Kempton on a mare called Esmeralda II., when that
sportive beast suddenly stuck her toes in, in front of
the Grand Stand; whereupon the great little jockey cut
the most elegant A.O.T. (Artistic Over Turn) as ever
was, and passionately embraced Mother Earth, much
to the amusement of the crowd.

I have often had occasion to allude to Captain
" Roddy " Owen. Many a good story is told of this
accomplished soldier and horseman, who was the best
of good fellows.

CHASING AND RACING 215

On one occasion he was riding in a steeplechase in
which there was only one other runner. About three
fences from home, Roddy's mount " sat down/' and,
becoming detached from its rider, scampered off out
of the course as soon as it had regained its legs,
leaving its erstwhile rider disconsolate.

H So the latter's opponent went on his own sweet
way ; but lo 1 at the next fence his gee refused, and in
spite of vigorous persuasion persisted in remaining on
the wrong side of it. A stalwart policeman, mounted
on a hairy-heeled weight carrier, scenting trouble, had
galloped to administer first aid to the disgruntled
Roddy, who, seeing what had befallen his rival, im-
mediately commandeered the ponderous steed of
authority and proceeded to give chase to his own
derelict, which, after an exciting run, he succeeded in
capturing. Having changed mounts he turned the
base-born gee adrift and hied him back to the race-
course, just as the other guy was making the sixth futile
attempt to surmount the final fence. In a flash Roddy
was upsides, and then over the obstruction in a twink-
ling, and although the recalcitrant one accepted the
lead, the Captain got first run and landed the race
cleverly.

^ Although Roddy was continuously in the saddle
he did not neglect his soldiering. He had the reputa-
tion of being an exceptionally smart officer. But on
one occasion there was in orders a very important
inspection, when our hero's application for leave (usually

2i6 CHASING AND RACING

granted freely, because the Mess to a man, including
the CO., usually had its bit on Roddy's mount) was
peremptorily refused.

What was to be done ?

He had been promised a ride on something " extra
good '* for a big hurdle race at Kempton. This was a
chance that could not possibly be missed ; but he sat
tight I

When, on the morning of the race, the regiment
was drawn up, Master Roddy came on parade riding
a new charger, which seemed, strangely enough, to
be quite unmanageable, even in the expert hands of
its rider.

No sooner did the band strike up the regimental
march, than Roddy's mount took charge — bolted, and
suddenly receded from view in the direction of the
station,

Roddy rode at Kempton that day and won his race
all right, to the general rejoicing of all ranks of his
corps. The CO., however, thought it incumbent on
him to " tell off" the backslider.

" Captain Owen," he said, ** you may be a very
capable amateur jockey, but I should advise you to
take some lessons in military riding from your sergeant-
major I '*

Roddy smiled. " Hope you had a good race,
sir ! "

" Oh, pretty well, thank you, Roddy, pretty well."
Then in an altered tone, " Here, what the devil do

CHASING AND RACING 217

you mean, sir ? I don*t know what you're talking
about/'

It was in 1892 that I hied me to Aintree in hope of

killing two birds with one stone, viz. the winning of

the County Cup on Trelaske, and witnessing the Grand

National. The first consideration failed to materialize

►y a length, though I was proxime accessit ; but I viewed

lc great cross-country event complacently.

The previous evening, after racing, I came across
.oddy and offered him a lift in my carriage — there
were no cars in those days — back to the Adelphi,
Liverpool, where we were both staying.

" Thanks, Cockie," he said, " but I won't ride.
ril shove on a sweater and just hang on behind. I'm
2 lbs. above weight for to-morrow (he was to ride
Father O'Flynn at 10 stone 5 lbs.), that ought to do the
trick." And sure enough it did, for he was in a
profuse sweat by the time we reached our haven of rest.
After a bath and a rub down he found to his joy that
the " too solid flesh " had melted, so that on the morrow
he was able to do the weight easily, and, what is more,
to win ** the Blue Ribbon of the Leppers " in gallant
fashion, as history relates. Of course I backed my
friend's mount " each way," and packed up a nice little
parcel.
K Poor Roddy ! his was a squalid end ; for, all too
young, he contracted cholera when on military service
in Egypt, and perished miserably.

" Truly a very gallant gentleman ! "

CHAPTER XIX

WHEN I am asked what are the most thrill-
ing finishes I have ever witnessed,
three heroic struggles, which stand out
conspicuously, leap to my mind.

The first of these was the desperate set-to between
Melton and Paradox, in the Derby of 1885. The
latter had won ** The Guineas,'* in which Archer was
his pilot ; but when it came to the great Epsom event
** the Tinman *' was on the back of Melton, whilst Fred
Webb steered Paradox. The twain ran locked to-
gether from the distance, and curiously enough, in the
centre of the course, instead of under the far rails as is
generally the case. Horses and jockeys were of the
best quality, and the issue was fought out to the bitter
end.

It has been said that Archer could have won on

either, but Webb could not go on without his horse, and

it is probable that Melton was, on that particular day,

the better racehorse of the two, though by the narrowest

possible margin. It is certain that Paradox lacked

nothing in the way of jockeyship. I was so engrossed

in the struggle that I did not see the rest of the field, and

whenever I try to visualize the scene, it always recurs

218

CHASING AND RACING 219

to my mind's eye as a match in which no other runners
had any part whatever, a strange delusion which repeats
itself when I recall the brief but exciting rally between
Ormonde and The Bard in 1886.

Both these faced the starter as holders of an un-
beaten certificate. The latter had commenced his
career by taking the Brocklesby Stakes. Very few of
those that figure as winners of this early juvenile event
have greatly distinguished themselves in after days —
Donovan, Semolina, Simonian, and Jest being some of
the exceptions — but The Bard went on from one success
to another — nine wins in all, I believe — before he met
his Waterloo in the Derby. On the other hand,
Ormonde had only been out three times. As a two-
year-old he had won the Criterion Stakes and the Dew-
hurst Plate at Newmarket, and had signalized his re-
appearance the following spring by ** slamming "
Minting, Mephisto, Saraband and Co. in " The
Guineas,'* as if they had been a lot of hacks.

I shall never forget Matt Dawson's face when he
saw " The Boy in Yellow " draw away from the violet
and white of Mr. Vyner, as carried by Minting.
" Well, Vm blessed ! " he exclaimed. " I thought I
had the best I ever trained, and quite unbeatable ; but
mercy on me ! what sort of a colt is this fellow of
John's ? " (Porter's).

But to return to The Bard. My kind friend and
patron. Lord Chaplin, once publicly stated that, in his
opinion, this was the handsomest racehorse he had ever

220 CHASING AND RACING

seen. I am afraid I cannot agree ; true the roan-
chestnut was well knit, symmetrical, and full of quality,
but he was only a little chap after all, and lacked the
impressive grandeur of some of his kind.

Watching the race for the Derby very carefully, it
seemed to me that, just for a moment, Archer had to
shake up Ormonde in order to stall off his diminutive
rival, and this view the jockey endorsed when I asked
him what he considered was the greatest racehorse he
had ever ridden. His answer was in words to this
effect:

" It is hard to say, sir, but it is between St. Simon
and Ormonde. I did have to ask the latter a little
question when we were alongside The Bard, but St.
Simon was never out of a hand canter in any of his races.
Still, I should not like to say he was a better horse than
Ormonde, who had some very hot stuff to beat, whereas
St. Simon I doubt was ever up against anything extra
special."

But I am not quoting the Ormonde-The Bard
incident as an example of a real nerve-racking finish,
for once Ormonde's great stride had asserted itself the
race was all over. By the way, I think there must be
something unlucky about the pronoun " The '* as
regards The Derby. I believe I am right in stating
that no horse with that prefix has ever annexed " The
Blue Ribbon.*' The Bard and The Baron failed,
whilst, alas. The Tetrarch yielded to the exigencies of
training before he had a chance of demonstrating

CHASING AND RACING 221

whether he could, or could not, stay the Derby course.
The contingency is certainly open to argument if not
to doubt.

But Ormonde figures in the next of my ** specials."
Having won the Derby, he went to Ascot and carried
off The Hardwicke Stakes with 8 stone 8 lbs. up, and

the following year, although by that time a confirmed
oarer, he again contested the race, in which he threw
down the gauntlet to his great rival Minting, the
popular idol Bendigo, and an animal of Noel Fenwick*s,
called Phil.

On this occasion Tom Cannon, senr., had the
handling of the Duke of Westminster's champion,
whilst Johnny Osborne was " up '* on Minting. Here,
again, after a cursory glance at Bendigo, for the sake of
Auld Lang Syne, my attention was riveted on the two
giants. From the Swinley corner it was a case of six
of one and half a dozen of the other. The excitement
was intense ! First a subdued murmur, then a distinct
hum, and finally a roar came from the crowd, as it was
seen that neither horse could get away from the other ;
and so they ran from the distance, locked together, to
the accompaniment of frantic shouts and gesticulations.
I was, happily, so placed that I could anticipate the
judges* verdict, but I dare venture to assert that half
the crowd thought that the two zeros * would be
hoisted side by side.

Now, when it is considered that the Hardwicke is
* Signifying a dead heat.

222 CHASING AND RACING

run over one of the severest one and a half miles in the
country, and that poor Ormonde was by then terribly
afflicted in the wind, it will be realized what a tre-
mendous flyer he was in every particular. No horse,
unless possessed of unflinching courage and perse-
verance, could have thus triumphed over such a smasher
as Minting, who the following Spring carried lo stone
to victory in The Kempton Jubilee, and, what is more,
galloped clean away from a big and representative field.

My third nerve-twister occurred at Sandown in
1903, when the great and glorious Sceptre, Ard
Patrick (the Derby winner of the previous year), and
Rock Sand (the then latest winner of the world's
greatest race) were in opposition. In the paddock the
Oaks heroine and Derby hero of 1 902 quite threw into
the shade the last named, who appeared mean and
undersized in comparison with the slashing four-year-
olds.

There is a well-worn aphorism which says, *' hand-
some is as handsome does." In this case handsome is
did it handsomely, for poor little Rock Sand had to be
content with a view of the tails of his giant rivals from
start to finish. Madden rode Ard Patrick, and Frank
Hardy Sceptre. Without in any way challenging the
efficiency of the latter jockey, those best qualified to
judge all agree with me that it was Madden *s supreme
effort which landed Jack Gubbins* handsome colt a
winner by the shortest of heads. When I state that
Hardy had been far from well for some time before the

CHASING AND RACING 223

race, his effort to stall off the more powerful Madden
did him infinite credit.

Incidentally I may mention that I was one of the
first to recognize Madden 's merits, when as a stable lad
his mounts were few and far between. I think I must
have had some faculty for scenting out likely but in-
conspicuous lads, who frequently became " fashion-
able " jockeys, such as (in addition to Otto Madden)
Walter Bradford and T. J. Calder, some of whose
earliest rides were when garbed in my green. In fact
Bradford made his debut therein.

It was in the Northamptonshire Stakes, in which I
was running Armada. I had expected his usual jockey,
Allsopp, to be available, but at the last moment he was
engaged for Silver Ring (I think that was the filly's
name) by " Leo " Rothschild, who had first claim on
his services. I was in a ^y.^ when Fred Webb offered
to help me out of the dilemma by producing a midget
apprentice, who looked as if you could put the whole of
him, with the exception of his knowledge box, into a
pint pot ! I had my doubts, as Armada was given to
catching hold. However, as Webb assured me that
his little box-o'-tricks could thrash any lad, no matter
what his weight, in his (Webb's) stable, I accepted the
oEtt faute de mieux^ but was not over- happy, because I
fancied my horse not a little, and had supported him
freely " each way."

Then came the question of breeches, boots, and
colours. Allsopp had not brought his set, but Prince

224 CHASING AND RACING

happened to have one of my own with him — my size !
Webb's breeches came almost to the child's chin, and
his boots were like unto the seven league leathers of
Jack the Giant Killer. They had to be strung to his
waist by pieces of cord; whilst my cap almost extin-
guished him, so much so, that when he was being
weighed out, old " Ben " Loates called out, ** Now
then young shaver, come out of that cap. I know
you are in it ; I can see your toes sticking out ! "

Well, Armada was kept well in hand by the boy, and
it was not his fault that my colt was baulked by a horse
falling in front of him at a critical moment. As it was,
the tiny jockey gathered Armada up and made a clean
jump over the prone steed and his rider, but he just
failed to get a place. Afterwards, as I have already
chronicled, Armada lost the Great Metropolitan owing
to a most exasperating piece of carelessness on the part
of his rider, who on that occasion was not Walter
Bradford, who turned out to be one of the cleverest,
most intelligent, modest, and charming of the riders
of his day. He was always a great favourite of
mine.

Apropos Ard Patrick and Sceptre, the great struggle
for " The Eclipse,'* when both were four-year-olds,
seems a pointer to the opinion, which has been so freely
expressed, that the mare should have been much nearer
to winning the Derby than she was. No one was
more surprised and disappointed than the owner at her
moderate showing in that race. That she was one of

CHASING AND RACING 225

the most brilliant mares that ever trod the turf there is
no gainsaying. I had backed her for ** The Derby '*
with great confidence, but happened to meet the Prince
of Wales in the Club. H.R.H. greeted me with,
" Well, what have you backed ? ** When I told him
he shook his head. " I think you are wrong ;
Gubbins tells me that his horse (Ard Patrick) is sure to
win ! "

Now I had not seen my friend "Jack" that morning,
but we were fellow clubmen of long standing, and he
was ever ready to give me ** the office.'* However, I
laid off on his horse sufficient to cover my investments
on Sceptre, and for this " save ** I had to thank the
then Heir Apparent. Although I did not get ** the
goods ** direct from the owner on this occasion, I had
once a straight tip from Jack Gubbins, which brought
greatly appreciated grist to my financial mill, though I
had to pay top price for it I
■ I was discussing the great game with my genial
Irish friend and his bosom pal Ralph Palliser at that
now defunct but once popular " pot-house," The
Raleigh Club (Peace to its precincts !), shortly before
" The Guineas *' of 1897, when the former, following
the Hibernian habit of answering one question by
asking another, in reply to my query as to Galtee
More's chance of winning the first of the classics, asked,
" Would you be backin* Kilcock if he were in the
race ? "

** What, at weight for age ? " I queried.

Q

226 CHASING AND RACING

" Weight for age ? Aw no ! Even weights, be
Gob ! "

Now Kilcock, then a four-year-old, was about the
smartest miler of his day.

" Why, you don't mean to tell me ? "

" Faith and I do, me bhoy ; ut's the treuth Vm
tellin' * ye,' is it not so, Ralph ? " appealing to his
fdus Achates,

The ponderous Palliser signified his endorsement
of the startling intelligence. This was good enough
for me ! I backed Galtee for the race in question,
" Accumulated " on ** The Derby," and completed a
useful, if not very prolific, treble, when that gallant
steed annexed the third and last jewel of " The Triple
Crown " on Doncaster's Town Moor.

Galtee More, who was by Kendal (said to have been
the only horse that ever got his head in front of the
mighty Ormonde's — in a home trial, be it stated), was
never beaten in public. I have been trying to think of
others in my time that hold a similar record, without
counting two-year-olds, who won a race or two and
then disappeared from the scene. At the moment
I can only recall St. Simon, Ormonde, Polar Star,
Barcaldine, Suspender, Galtee More, Hurry On,
Kincsem, and that wonderful colt The Tetrarch. The
last named, it is true, ran only as a juvenile, but had a
brave string of victories to his credit, with one exception
all gained with consummate ease, the said exception
being in The National Breeders' Foal Stakes at

CHASING AND RACING 227

Sandown in 19 13. On this occasion "The Spotted
Wonder/* or " Rocking Horse," as he was some-
times called, reared on end as the tapes flew up. This
lost him several lengths, but such was his great stride
and terrific speed, that he was able to make good,
though only by a neck !

There was a general bewailing when, in the follow-
ing spring, it was announced that Captain McCalmont's
flyer had done his last gallop. That same expansive
stride was his undoing, for when at full stretch he was
apt to strike one of his fore-fetlock joints with his hind
hoofs, so that in the course of time the inevitable
happened and the British public saw their idol no more.

There were those at that time, and now there are
more, who declare that The Tetrarch would under no
circumstances have won the Derby. Their argument
was that no colt with such phenomenal speed could
possibly possess stamina sufficient to enable him to stay
the Derby Course. Now, without admitting the
cogency of this theory, I myself have reason to doubt
if, had he run, The Tetrarch would have triumphed at
Epsom. My reason being based on his pedigree, not
so much on the side of his sire, Roi Herode (for the Le
Samaritain, Le Sancy line of ** Greys," could be
depended upon to stay a mile and a half, and often up
to two miles), but because there is a blemish in the
escutcheon of his dam Vahren, who was out of Catania
— a daughter of Rose Garden — the dam of my brilliant
but non-staying Dornroschen. Catania never won a

228 CHASING AND RACING

race, and Rose Garden was little more than a pony.
Dornroschen was by Prism (a son of Speculum), a re-
markably handsome horse, but only a sprinter ; whilst
Catania was by Speculum himself ; and though it may
be urged that the substitution of the father for the son
should have ensured stamina, the fatal female line
betrays the weak spot which caused the eighth furlong
of the mile to be a sore trial and tribulation to Dorn-
roschen, and one which more than once proved her
undoing. It is therefore possible that her " nephew '*
may have inherited a similar failing.

This supposition is emphasized by the fact that
The Tetrarch*s son, the brilliant Tetratema, was one of
the Dornroschen kidney. He could ** catch swallows,**
as the saying goes, at six and seven furlongs, and
though he did manage to win ** The Guineas,'* it took
him all his time to peg back Silvern, whom he could
have lost over a shorter cut. Rose Garden was by
Kingcraft (winner of the Derby, 1870) — Eglantine by
Hermit; a pedigree which does not suggest lack of
stamina ; but the kink must be there or thereabouts ;
though it maybe due to some remote atavistic influence.*

There are many cases of great racehorses which have
been beaten but once. Two conspicuous examples are

* Since these remarks were written two sons of The Tetrarch
have won the St. Leger — to wit Caligula (1920) and Polemarch
(1921) ; whilst another son, Chand, won an important 2j-mile
race in France, besides several big lepping events over a dis-
tance of groimd. So it seems as if the suspicion of lack of
stamina in " The Spotted Wonder's " stock was ill founded.

CHASING AND RACING 229

Isonomy and his son Isinglass. I was near to writing
down the former as one of the select order of the un-
defeated, but then remembered that though he won
the Cambridgeshire in 1878 ; the following year, carry-
ing a prohibitive burden, he could do no better than
register " a place " in a field of thirty-one runners,
Jwhen La Merville won. Isonomy was undoubtedly a
great horse, one of the greatest ever seen on the Turf.
The last glimpse I had of him was when he was sent up
for sale to — of all places in the world — Albert Gate !

To begin with, he was not a great success as a sire;
but as time went on he altered that, and has become a
veritable pillar of The Stud Book. His son Isinglass,
who was a triple-crowned hero in 1893, was likewise
defeated once, and once only.

He was a great, good-natured beast that delighted
in making a race with anything ! I think he must have
derived some telepathic amusement by racking the
nerves of those supporters who were not aware of this
idiosyncrasy. Tommy Loates was his usual, maybe
his only, pilot, and he understood the hefty bay
thoroughly. In nearly every race the horse ran, the
cry would go up ** Isinglass 's beat ! *' when Tommy
was seen hustling Mr. McCalmont's steed for all he
was worth (apparently) ; but. Lord love you ! not a
bit of it ! When the psychological moment arrived,
or when it suited his fancy, the ** bit up the sleeve "
would pop out, and in a few strides the race would be
won !

230

CHASING AND RACING

I had a long innings on the turf, not only as an
owner and rider, but as an onlooker. I have been
asked on many occasions to name the best horses and
mares which I have seen performing in public. Here
is my list, which I may term my ** XIs ":

Classic Colts :

Ormonde

Persimmon

St. Simon

Ard Patrick

Galtee More

Minting

Foxhall

Flying Fox

Isinglass

Orme

The Tetrarch

Reserves :

Merman

Spearmint

Bend Or

St. Frusquin

Sunstar

N.B. — I never saw Barcaldine or Isonomy run ;
but they are always held to have been veritable
smashers; though Barcaldine was a wayward and
ill-tempered one.

I have not placed these in the order of what I con-
sider their respective merit, though had I ventured
to do so, the first two named would be bracketed at the
head of the list.

** Handicappers " ; (some of whom were also cup horses)

Polar Star

Bendigo

Minting

The White Knight

Merman

Queen's Birthday

Victor Wild

Willonyx

Irish Elegance

Polymelus

Foxhall

CHASING AND RACING

231

Reserves :

Tristan

Tyrant

Dean Swift

Cup Horses :

Persimmon

Tristan

Bachelor's Button

William the Third

St. Simon

Isinglass

The White Knight

St. Gatien

1^ Merman

Prince Palatine

p Isonomy

Buchan

Classic Fillies :

Wheel of Fortune

Tagalie

Pretty Polly

Kincsem

Geheimniss

Sceptre

Signorina

Kermesse

La Fleche

Memoir

Diadem

Cup Mares :

La Fleche

Dresden China

Lady Rosebery

Canterbury Pilgrim

Laodamia

Comedy

Corrie Roy

Sceptre

Thebais

Handicap Mares and Fillies :

La Fleche

Dornroschen

Comedy

Hackler's Pride

Corrie Roy

Donetta

Plaisanterie

Ballantrae

Tenebreuse

Hammerkop

Florence

The Handsomest Horses (Colts)

;

I Irish Elegance

Glanmerin

Ard Patrick

Tangiers

■ Persimmon

Lemberg

I Surefoot

Polar Star

Minting

Polymelus

Prism

Gainsborough

: Orby's Pride

232 CHASING AND RACING

The Handsomest Mares and Fillies :

Pretty Polly Corrie Roy

Dornroschen Hammerkop

Sceptre Comedy

Canterbury Pilgrim Laodamia

Geheimniss Glare

These lists would not be complete without naming
the ugliest horses or mares that I can remember.
" Handsome is as handsome does *' is a trite enough
saying ; but the better looking racers of either sex are
generally the better performers. Those of " homely *'
form and feature, or those who would seem more in
place in a Christmas pantomime, are but the exception
which prove the rule.

Here are some of them :

The Grafter Manilado

Dean Swift Hurry On

Epsom Lad

I think The Grafter must be awarded pride of place,
for he was a perfect figure of fun ! I never saw such a
pronounced Roman nose on a racehorse ; and his ears
reminded one of those of a prize lop-bunny I

Dean Swift would never have taken the champion-
ship at a beauty show. To see him wandering around
the paddock was to pity him for his loneliness without
the shafts of a four-wheeler to hold him up ; but what
a splendid fellow he was on his favourite courses —
Epsom and Ascot ! I always couple Dean Swift and
Victor Wild in my mind as prototypes, for the latter
was by no manner of means an ** oil painting " (though

CHASING AND RACING 233

not quite such a scare-crow as Mr. Jack JoeFs
beloved steed) ; but, like the last-named, he had his
special fancies in the way of tracks, these being
Kempton (where he won " The Jubilee " in 1895,
carrying 8 stone 4 lbs., and also the following year,
when he repeated his triumph, carrying no less than
9 stone 7 lbs.) and Hurst Park, where, in the Cup,
he was victorious in 1893, and again in 1 894 ; on each
occasion being hunted home, as previously stated, by
my Dornroschen, who, on the first occasion, was
conceding him no less than 9 lbs. !

Both these horses picked up races elsewhere, I
believe, but were never seen to such advantage as was
Dean Swift at Epsom and Ascot, and Victor Wild at
Kempton and Hurst Park, as quoted.*

Epsom Lad was another ** comic cut ** who could
go fast and stay, and who was endowed with any
amount of grit, as exemplified when he won ** The
Eclipse " in 1901, and other important events. At
the time of writing, Manilado is still in training, and
has done fairly well on occasions ; but from an ocular
point of view, he is no credit to his illustrious brother,
Gay Crusader, and his near relative, Gainsborough,
both of whom, and especially the latter, were " picture
horses.'*

* Victor Wild also won the Royal Hunt Cup in 1894, when, as
a four-year-old, he carried 7 stone 7 lbs. ; whilst Dean Swift won
the Coronation Cup as an aged horse at Epsom in 1909, with
9 stone 3 lbs. up.

234 CHASING AND RACING

Hurry On, one of the select group possessing a
record which chronicles no defeat, was, in his racing
days, a big, rough-and-ready customer, possessing
some excellent racing points and lines ; but he had a
head and a half ^ of the " fiddle '* formation. When first
he unveiled himself under colours he was whispered as
something tres chaud ; but a knowledgeable friend of
mine, on casting an eye over him, said with a shrug,
** Well, if he can carry that head all the way and
win, ril eat him ! *' He did win all right; but, of
course, my friend was not permitted to devour him,
even had he acquired a sufficiency of appetite to
do so !

I did not see Durbar II., the French colt, who took
down the numbers of our native champions in the
Derby of 19 14 (the year of dreadful fate !) ; but I am
credibly informed that he was a perfect eye-sore i He
won pretty easily, but beat one of the poorest fields
in point of class that has ever contested the great
race.

To go to extremes, I must hark back to the
Apollos of the equine world. I have no hesitation
in awarding the palm to Irish Elegance, a truly
marvellous specimen of a thoroughbred, such as
even the most carping of critics would find it hard to
" fault."

Next I should name Surefoot, one of the hand-
somest of all time, but a hooligan of the deepest dye,
whose bent lay more towards Venus and Mars than

CHASING AND RACING 235

towards the wing-footed Mercury ; though when he
took it into his head to pay attention to racing, rather
than to savaging others, he took a deal of beating.
. That he could have won the Derby of his year is
practically certain, had he not been seized with an
overwhelming desire to make a meal off an unfortunate
rival who came within reach of his teeth, and in so
doing seemed to forget what the order of the day was.
This was in 1890, when Sainfoin won. The following
year, after a most astonishing display of erotic irre-
sponsibility in the paddock at Sandown, Surefoot was
induced to win The Eclipse, by the use of his heels
(laid to the ground and not as was usually the case,
against the ribs of a rival) rather than his teeth. He
scored in a very tight finish, when the proverbial table-
cloth would have covered four of the runners.

Despite Surefoot's constantly recurring and public
demonstrations of his amorous proclivities, he was a
comparative failure at the stud. /

As a third side of the beauty triangle I should name
Ard Patrick, with Minting close up.

All these were of the massive and imposing type,
yet full of that elusive asset termed quality ; so easily
understood by judges of horse and dog flesh, and yet
so difficult to define or describe. I have seen hundreds
of really charming racers of both sexes, built on the
medium or small model ; but it would require a very
intense application of mind to recall and " place " a
dozen of them as hyper-beautiful specimens. Glancing

236 CHASING AND RACING

at the mares that I have seen run, I have the hardihood
to opine that my own Dornroschen was of peerless
presence (every one thinks his own crow the blackest !),
and that proxime accessit at a beauty show I should place
that wonderful, but sometimes disappointing, flyer,
Sceptre.

CHAPTER XX

DURING the time my horses were being
trained by Sam Pickering at Kennett
near Newmarket, " Mr. Jersey," whom
I had counted among my most cherished
friends, off and on for many years, was likewise closely
associated with the stable ; though eventually she
placed her string under the care of Fred Webb.

** Mr. Jersey," or to call her by her real name,
Mrs. Langtry,* at that time resided at " Regal Lodge,"
hard by Pickering's stables. I was a frequent visitor,
and shall always remember with profound appreciation
the kindness and hospitality which I enjoyed at the
hands of " The Missus " (as we used to call her) and
her charming daughter, Jeanne (afterwards Lady Ian
Malcolm), who at that time was in her " teens." The
latter was very sympathetic with me regarding our
mutual love of horses and dogs, especially the latter,
and also because music appealed to us both insistently ;
but whereas I was, and am, naught but a melodist,
without much technical knowledge or skill, Jeanne
was a trained and facile musician. I would

* Mrs. Langtry eventually became Lady de Bathe.
237

238 CHASING AND RACING

play my airs on a silver whistle of the ** penny "
variety, and she would take them down in music
notation, almost as fast as a skilled stenographer can
transcribe from dictation.

Her beautiful mother and I had much in common,
and were never tired of discussing, not only the
absorbing matters of the turf in which we were both so
intensely interested, but those of the drama, art,
social and other amenities which appealed to us almost
as much. When a meeting at Newmarket was toward,
open house was kept at Regal Lodge, and lavish
hospitality dispensed to those sitting in high places,
who were also enthusiasts in the game.

An outstanding personality of the turf, with whom
I came in contact at my hostess' residence, was Capt.
Machell, at that time manager to the racing establish-
ment of the then Lord Calthorpe. I had many a chat
with him and gleaned much useful information in
racing matters ; for the Captain was an unerring judge
and a keen observer. There came a time when Regal
Lodge and its entourage had experienced a somewhat
disastrous week, and it behoved us to find a safe " get
out." Capt. Machell, taking compassion on our
forlorn position, put up a ** cinch " for us at Gatwick
— a two-year-old called Blackthorn (I think that was its
name), which he declared could not possibly be beaten,
unless he fell down ; and even then might be capable
of regaining an upright position and sufficient equi-
librium to enable him to slam any opposition that might

CHASING AND RACING 239

be offered. We all went to the meeting to interview
this prodigy, and were introduced to a singularly
handsome black colt, whose bearing and manners,
plus the whole-hearted recommendation of our astute
friend, emboldened us to freely lay odds of 11- 10 on
in a small field. If I remember rightly, my one-time
-protege^ Walter Bradford, had the mount, and he
" doddled it," winning in a canter by a couple of
lengths. Here, thought I, is a smasher, and one to
follow religiously. So the next time Blackthorn ran
I had a packet on him ; but, to my surprise and pain,
he was numbered with the " also ran," and, as far as I
can remember, never greatly distinguished himself
thereafter.

Now the question arises, how on earth did Capt.
Machell gauge the colts' chances in the Gatwick race
with such accuracy that he was able to reduce the
issue to a gilt-edged certainty, having regard to the
fact that the winning card was not an " honour " ?
Or was Blackthorn really a top-sawyer when he ran at
Gatwick, and did he subsequently lose his form through
some untoward circumstance } I am left guessing !
Anyway, we all got home on him (Glory be I), and
departed rejoicing and pouring blessings on the gallant
Captain's level head.

Sometimes a very Great Personage would honour
Regal Lodge with his company at luncheon or dinner.
On the latter occasions he preferred a homely little
gathering consisting of our hostess, her daughter, a

240 CHASING AND RACING

dear friend of mine, and myself. A pleasant evening
was always to be looked for. Some kind friend had
presented the V.G.P. with what was alleged to be a
French bull-dog, but which fell far short of the ideal
in the matter of points.

Said my hostess to me, ** His Nibs is going to bring
his dog over to show you and obtain your expert
opinion. I don't think it is much of a one, but for
goodness sake don't say so ! "

All the same I was determined to speak out and
say just what I thought of the dog, whose name was
Peter. So when the V.G.P., with a look of pride on his
popular features, showed me his pet, I told him exactly
what the dog's failings were, and what its good points
(which were precious few) ; whilst behind its master's
back my anxious hostess was glowering at me and
contorting her classic features with forbidding frowns.
But she need not have been alarmed, for the owner
accepted my criticisms quite meekly, if sadly, and anon
walked me out to the paddocks to inspect the stud and
to pass my opinion on its units.

When we returned to five o'clock tea several
notable Turfites were assembled, and the cup that
cheers and often, I believe, does inebriate (in certain
feminine instances), was being handed round, and we
fell to discussing future events. I remember having a
wager with the V.G.P. that Newhaven II. would beat
a certain nominee of his in the Ascot Cup, " both to
run and one to win," when I became aware that Peter

CHASING AND RACING 241

was making a devastating raid on the pedestal which
displayed cakes, petits fours^ and other confections.
He was just within the range of my foot, so I adminis-
tered a gentle correction. The kick was by no means
a hefty one, but the revengeful Peter set up a loud
lamentation, which immediately arrested the attention
of his Royal Master, who exclaimed —

** Why, what*s the matter with Peter ? Has any
one hurt you, Peter ? "

I took the bull by the horns ! ** He was raiding
the cakes, sir ! " I said, ** so I pushed him with my
foot. He is not hurt, only startled."

** Now that was very naughty of Peter ; but
you must not kick him,'* replied the V.G.P. rather
severely.

When the company broke up my hostess addressed
me, " YouVe done it now, Harding (she was one of
the few who refused to address me by my pseudonym —
* Cockie '). You'll be outside in a pot hat now ! "
But she was wrong. I was still in quite good odour
with royalty.

Sometime later — at the Newmarket First Spring
Meeting of 1898, I think— H.R.H. the Prince of
Wales, as he then was, joined our group on the lawn,
with the pleasing information that he had ** a real
good thing " for us, emanating from Dick Marsh's
stable, and owned by Mr. J. W. Larnach — one Jeddah
to wit. " He is sure to win this Triennial to-day,"
declared H.R.H., " and then he will be favourite for

R

4 „

242 CHASING AND RACING

the Derby. Now the thing to do is to back him for the
Derby before he runs.** Then turning to me, " What
can you get } "

** I don't know, sir, but Fll see,** and ofF I went to
the ring, soon returning with the information that
IOO-8 could be booked for the great race ; whereupon
the Prince said he would have ;^i,ooo-;^8o. Mrs.
Langtry declared for a like wager, and I determined
to take the odds for myself. One of these ventures
were entrusted to Geo. Cooper (the best of bookies, and
one of nature's gentlemen), and the Tiaily Mail hatted
Rob Lee, respectively ; but I forget who the third
victim was. Reuben Sassoon booked the bet for
H.R.H. Came that day*s race, and Jeddah well down
the course ! We looked unthinkable things at the
Heir Apparent, but he only shrugged his shoulders,
** I cannot understand it,** he said ; *' they told me
Jeddah was sure to win ! **

" Does not look much as if he would win the Derby,
sir,'* I ventured.

" No, I suppose not ! " and H.R.H. strolled away,
followed by the faithful Reuben. When " off ** had
been signalled in the great race of 1898 I was in
Mrs. Langtry's box. I forget what we had backed,
but it was " not on the map ** as the field swept round
Tattenham and were pounding down the straight.
** We*re beat,** murmured my hostess. " What*s
winning } How about Batt } *' (the Duke of West-
minster*s representative).

CHASING AND RACING 243

" Going well ; but there*s one going better. Here !
what price Jeddah ? Jeddah wins ! — ^Jeddah ! "

" That's a crusher,** mourned Mrs. Langtry. " A
skinner for the ring. Every bet I had has gone
down ! **

" Not every one^ Missus. Have you forgotten that
you have ;^iooo-;^8o — ^Jeddah, for this race } And so
has the Prince, and so have I. Glory be ! **

My fair friend jumped up, ** Good heavens, you're
right, Harding. What luck ! Why I had forgotten
all about it ! Run and tell His Nibs, he'll be
delighted ! "

I found H.R.H. in the Club. Before I could say
a word he exclaimed :

** What do you think of that } Here's a horse in
our stable wins the Derby at loo-i, and I have not
backed it for a shilling ! "

*' Pardon me, sir," I corrected, " but you have a
bet about Jeddah I "

" Why, what do you mean } "

" Don't you remember, sir ? I took ;£iooo-;£8o
for you before Jeddah ran in the Triennial ! "

" Why bless my soul, so you did; that's capital,
capital. Go and tell Reuben ! I hope you won a
bit ? "

I told H.R.H. I had, and that all was well.

So ended the Jeddah sensation. At Ascot the
horse proved that his Derby victory was no fluke. The
fact of the matter is that his inglorious display at

244 CHASING AND RACING

Newmarket was accountable for by the state of the
** going " on that occasion ; for it was adamantine,
and one could hardly see the field for dust as they
ran.

" Mr. Jersey ** was an enthusiast in racing as
she was in other matters. Whatever her fair hand
found to do she did it with all her might, and did it
well. She had an idea, and a very well-founded one to
boot, that our native racing stock was, taken as a whole,
deficient in that all important quality — stamina ; that
in this respect it was, in fact, degenerate. She had
marked the constant and remarkable success of the
Musket blood in the Antipodes, and determined to
import some of it, with a view to an improvement in
our native productions. Her first venture was a
highly successful one ; for when Merman had become
acclimatized he became a power in the land, for, after
winning the Caesarewitch of 1897 (for which he was
boldly backed by his owner and her friends, including
the writer), he put a seal on his fame by carrying off
the Ascot Gold Cup two years later. In the mean-
time he had been rather unluckily beaten in the
Chester Cup of 1898, which was won by a lightly-
burdened outsider named Up Guards ; the peculiari-
ties of the cramped Chester Course and the short run
in being unfavourable to such a far-striding horse as
the "Aussie.**

Though not what might be considered a " picture
horse," Merman was the possessor of some outstanding

CHASING AND RACING 245

points of merit. I never saw such a deep and well-
ribbed chest, nor such long sweeping shoulders. His
quarters, if somewhat ragged, were immensely power-
ful; in fact the whole figure of the horse suggested
great strength and staying power.

But ** Mr. Jersey " was not so fortunate the next
time of asking, when she imported Aurum, a colt of
the right strain, whose performances ** over yonder "
had been most impressive. When he reached this
country it was found impossible to train him properly ;
moreover, to the best of my knowledge, he never
became a success at the Stud.

A notable mare which was left to Mrs. Langtry
by the testamentary disposition of George Baird
(" Mr. Abingdon ") was Lady Rosebery, who con-
tracted the pleasant habit of winning Liverpool Cups,
and rounded off with the Jockey Club Cup in 1893 ;
her example being emulated by Merman five years
later.

** Mr. Jersey " was devoted to her horses, and no
matter how badly they cut up or how completely they
let her down, had always an excuse for them. My
critical faculty sometimes urged me to make remarks
which were extremely distasteful to my friend.

On one occasion, after inspecting her string, good,
bad, and indifferent, I came out with, ** I say. Missus, I
wish you would ask me down for a few days' shooting! "

** But, my dear Harding, you know I have no
shooting to offer."

246 CHASING AND RACING

" Oh yes, you have ; I could enjoy grand sport
potting some of your useless and expensive equine
rocketers ! **

Well, I was fairly " for it," and a lifelong and
cherished camaraderie was nigh coming to a sudden
and violent end; but happily an abject apology brought
about a peaceful issue. There was, however, one colt
which sorely tried its owner's patience. At last a day
came when it so behaved as to call forth an order which
in promulgation provided a particularly neat hon mot.

This colt*s name was Amberite. He was one of
those that could if he would, but he almost invariably
wouldn't I He was running at Kempton, whither
Mrs. Langtry had been unable to go on that par-
ticular day. She, however, received a wire at Regal
Lodge from Fred Webb (who at that time had charge
of her horses) to the following effect : ** Amberite
beaten, would not try a yard." The owner's reply
was —

" Amberite is no gentleman I Make him so ! ^'
— ^Jersey.

CHAPTER XXI

DURING the time I disported myself on
the Turf as an amateur rider, I was natu-
rally brought into contact, at one time
or another, with all the riding knuts —
members of Bibury, Southdown, Sandown, Kempton,
Newmarket, and other important clubs ; and a nice
cheery set of boys they were, who played the game of
give and take to perfection.

Those who were genuine contemporaries were
linked up with a senior bunch, units of which took
occasional mounts when conditions and circumstances
were favourable. Among the latter Arthur Coventry
was conspicuous. In his day, he had been looked upon
?is facile princepSy and he never lost the art of race-riding.
When he became official starter to the Jockey Club it
was not often that he donned silk ; but when the
Bibury Club Meeting (then held at Stockbridge) came
round, he was generally to be seen on the back of some
gee, owned and trained by his friend, the local celebrity,
Tom Cannon, senior. On these occasions I fre-
quently found myself in opposition. I tried to tackle
him on one of the great ex-jockey's string, with my

non-staying and delightful, but elephantine Blankney.

247

248 CHASING AND RACING

The race was a mile, but my joker had no pretensions
to stay the distance ; he nevertheless held on for seven
furlongs before giving Arthur's mount best, and was
well in front of the rest of the field at the finish.

A day later I slammed the same rider (when vainly
endeavouring to induce Tom's champion Blanc to
show a shadow of the form he had displayed in a home
trial) with my Dornroschen, as described elsewhere ;
and on the last day's racing I had my revenge on the
Cannon contingent in a six-furlong race, which was
eminently to Blankney's liking. Incidentally I may
mention that this was a selling race, and I was fearful
that I should have to soar into high finance, in order
to retain the dear old chap ; but as luck would have it,
he had twisted a plate in pulling up, with the result
that he limped around the sale ring like a lame duck,
so no one would bid.

I have already described the tight finish between
Arthur Coventry, Geo. Baird (Abingdon), and myself
at Derby. I was indeed fortunate to be on the better
gee three times out of the four that I encountered the
first named.

If I was lucky as regards the two named, and Sir
James Duke, there were others who were veritable
hoodoos to me. Not once did I succeed in pegging
back Tommy Lushington ; though on one occasion I
got to the head of his mount on the post, when riding
the worst rogue that it was ever my ill-fortune to
bestride. This was Roscidus, alluded to earlier in

CHASING AND RACING 249

these ramblings. Tommy was built on the same
lines as myself, that is to say, decidedly " stocky," with
short legs, but lots of power in back, loins, shoulders,
and arms. He had the best of hands, a thorough
knowledge of pace, and fine judgment all round. In
fact, I rank him as one of the most efficient amateurs
I ever came across.

Another that was constantly taking my number
down was W. H. (** Bill ") Moore, a brother of the
delightful " Garry " of that ilk, who was himself a
perfect performer over the sticks and between flags.
Bill was the antithesis of Tommy Lushington — a long,
limber chap and immensely strong. One wondered
how on earth he managed to go to scales at the weights
he carried. He looked as if he walked twelve stone !
And yet he could ride (all in) eleven stone or there-
abouts. He was the most powerful finisher of our
bunch ; but a cruel one.

Of George Baird I have already said sufficient to
show what an accomplished horseman he was at his
best ; but admittedly his living was not what one
might term ascetic or even prudent. Towards the
end of his riding days his nerves were anything but
strung to concert pitch.

Two soldiers, who had been schoolfellows of
mine at Harrow, were notable performers. I allude
to Major ** Bobbie " Fisher and Capt. (afterwards
Colonel) Childe. The latter was known at the School-
on*the-Hill as Childe-Pemberton, but latterly he

250 CHASING AND RACING

dropped the affix. He was killed in the Boer War
in one of the early battles (Grasspan, I believe). A
simple stone was erected where he fell and was buried,
inscribed : " Is it well with the child ? It is well ! "
If I have not the line verbatim, pray excuse me. The
sentiment is expressed correctly.

Of Roddy Owen I have written copiously. Those
who knew and appreciated him will ever bear him in
affectionate remembrance and deplore the horrid
calamity which put a premature end to his joyous,
devil-may-care life.

Lord Rocksavage, (afterwards Marquis of Chol-
mondeley), better known as ** Rock,'* was a very
capable horseman and an excellent judge of racing.
He, like Bill Moore, was very deceptive where weight
is concerned, for he was not nearly so heavy as he
looked. He was a man of taciturn disposition, who,
like the sailor's parrot, thought much and said little.
He always gave me the idea that he wanted to snub
me or to ignore my existence ; but when it came
to correspondence, he was most courteous and in-
formative.

The Earl of Derby rode occasionally and with some
success. I think I have told how my dear old Weasel
passed into his hands, but I am not sure if he won a
race with him or not. ** Chris " Waller, Teddy
Wilson, George Lambton, Wengy Hope Johnstone,
Ronnie Greville, Percy Bewicke (quite Ai), Charlie
Cunningham, Dan Thirlwell, ** Mr. Charles " (Lord

CHASING AND RACING 251

Molyneux *), were others of my time who made good ;
whilst such as Ronnie Moncrieff, Guy Fenwick, Alec
Popham, and Major Morris occasionally popped up.
But I must not forget Major Frank Atkinson, a stand-
ing dish at Lewes and successful elsewhere, a very live
proposition indeed, and one who could hold his own
with the best.

George Thursby began to blossom out just as I was
fading away from the Turf; but we overlapped a bit,
as already described. All things considered, and when
his powers as a horseman were fully developed, I have
no hesitation in pronouncing him the best amateur
rider that ever came under my observation. There
were few, if any, professionals that ** had anything on
him," as the American slang has it !

A good many of those whom I have named held,
like myself, the advantage of a license from the Jockey
Club to ride on equal terms with jockeys, so that
occasionally we met in a " mixed " field, with the con-
sequence that we amateurs had an insight to pro-
fessional characters and methods which were hidden
from the public. For my own part I can bear witness
to the fact that the rumours and scandals which
overshadowed " the little men '* were for the most
part entirely without foundation, or preposterously

* Lord Molyneux was a capable and cheery amateur who
came to a sad end. After sustaining a terrible crumpler at
Sandown, his spine was so affected that he was two years on
his back before death ended his sufferings.

252 CHASING AND RACING

exaggerated. But, of course, there were black sheep
in the fold, and no doubt some very clever and daring
ramps were occasionally engineered. Taking them
all in all, I found the professional jockeys a respectful
and respectable lot, though there were one or two
whose heads appeared to have swelled to such an extent
that they had to take the largest sizes in racing caps.
These exceptions were apt to be dour or cynical. No
doubt the instructions which were hammered into them
to keep their mouths shut and their ears open, may
have accounted for their mauvaise honte^ and their
churlish manners.

Personally, I appear to have enjoyed a full measure
of popularity among owners, trainers, and jockeys ;
consequently I was favoured with a plethora of" tips,*'
which often left me in a dilemma as to what horse I
should support in a particular race.

For instance, I invested on ^v^ horses in the
Cambridgeshire of 1893. At the last moment Bob
Sherwood told me that I must not leave Molly
Morgan out of my calculations ; but she had let me
down in the Caesarewitch, and I would have none of
her. My " bunch of five," headed by Raeburn,
followed " Molly '* home without any interloper
intervening 1

One day I met Humphries (who was then training
for the Thursbys) in Piccadilly. The genial one
invited me to his Club (the newly-formed and palatial
" Junior Constitutional **), and there he confided to

CHASING AND RACING 253

me that he was sending a string of five to
Newton, and expected to win a race with each one
of them.

** I believe you are fond of dabbling in accumu-
lators,'* he said. ** Here's your chance. Captain, to
pack up a parcel."

I took his advice, and coupled up his lot in doubles
and trebles in all sorts of combinations.

It was the time of the 'Varsity Cricket Match, a
contest which I never miss if I can help it. At my
best I was only a third rater with leather or willow ;
but I love the game, and consider myself a fair critic
thereof.

Well, I kept buying evening papers as each issue
was published and distributed. Sure enough Honest
John's little lot " clicked " monotonously, with only
one exception. What was due to me was quite beyond
mental calculation. I was, naturally enough, elated
at first, and so was a dearly beloved friend who was
with me.

" Cockie, dear, this is splendid ! " she enthused.

A dead weight fell on my exuberance.

" Yes, sweetheart, a great deal too good, I'm afraid,"
I answered gloomily. And I was right ! My pre-
sentiment proved miserably well founded, for my S.P.
merchant " did a guy " and " beat it," as the Yanks
say, and I was left lamenting ! I had won over ;£3000
(and no single bet over £^\ and all I could lay hands
on was a bare deal table and a rickety chair, left in the

254 CHASING AND RACING

once sumptuous office of the absconding " com-
mission agent."

A propos accumulators, it happened that I was
witness of a rather extraordinary gamble which took
place on the International Gun and Polo Club shooting
ground at Hendon. A young " sport," whom I will
call "A.," asked a rather green but self-assertive
competitor, " B.," if he would accept " a fiver " and
let him. A., have a penny accumulator S.P. on all the
winners at Epsom (the Spring Meeting had just com-
menced). B. " fell for it " readily enough.

It so happened that all the winners that day were at
a fairly short price, and when we met next morning
on the pigeon ground B. found himself over ;^3 in
pocket; but A., quite undaunted, said, ** YouVe bested
me this time, B.; but look here ! Til give you *a
tenner ' to have a penny accumulator on all the winners
at Epsom to-dayT B. rose like a famished trout.
When we had assembled for the final day's shoot,
(incidentally I may be allowed to brag that I won the
Cup), B. strolled up to A. ** Hulloa, A.," he said,
" how does your penny accumulator work out to-day,
old sport } I had not time to look at the returns ? "
** Oh ! " said A., calmly, removing his cigar from his
lips and knocking the ash off on the stock of his gun,
** I make out you owe me ;^4323 is, 3^. / " (these were
not the exact figures, but they are approximate, and
serve to accentuate the astounding result). Of course
B. was flabbergasted. For the moment he tried to

CHASING AND RACING 255

bluff and to laugh off his predicament as a kind of joke ;
but a bet is a bet, and he had taken his chance. It
seems that hardly a favourite had won on ** the Downs,"
and most of the winners were of the ** 100-8 '* or
" 20-1 others '* category. I believe that the wager
was in the end settled for a matter of ** a monkey."

CHAPTER XXII

WHO that goes down to the racecourses in
trains, buses, motor cars, traps, or on
Shank^s mare, has not heard of wonder-
ful dreams of winners — and losers ?
Some of these hallucinations are really remarkableu
It fell to the writer's lot to experience a most
astounding somnolent forecast ; one which turned
out highly profitable moreover.

It was in 1892, and the eve of the Jubilee. I had
been carefully studying the handicap, and had reduced
the number of those horses which, to my way of
thinking, were " possibles '* to half a dozen, but could
not make up my mind as to which of these held the
winning card. I went to bed in the nuptial chamber
and dreamed a dream.

I was, methought, in the members* enclosure with
Ted Jaquet, who has figured so largely (metaphorically
and physically) in these pages. The field cantered to
the post, and I essayed to take up a point of vantage
to view the contest, but found myself so crowded in
that I could not move. Ted was more lucky, and I

could see his expansive and genial dial beaming above

256

CHASING AND RACING 257

the heads of packed humanity. When "off" was
signalled on the brazen bugle I shouted to my cousin :

** D it, Ted, Vm fixed here ; what's happening ?

What shall I back?'' His reply came clear and
concise, " Back Euclid; he got off well and is nicely
placed on the rails 1 "

** Take you twenty-two ponies Euclid," I yelled
to Fry, who was within earshot.

" Lay you twenties, Capting," came the leviathan's
reply.

" Not good enough ! "

Then from Ted —

" Take twenties, Cockie, take any price, Euclid is
going better'n anything. He'll win I "

** Take you twenties to a pony. Fry ! "

** Too late, too late, Capting ! they're near home
now. Lay you eights ! "

The yelling and shouting began, and presently
the field flashed by. I could see nothing but the caps
of the riders. Then there was a sudden hush as the
numbers were hoisted.

" What's won .'^ " I asked a guy who was squeezed
against me.

** Look at the number board, guv'nor ! " was the
non-committal reply.

I could see the erection all right, and hoisted in the
winning slot a big and conspicuous " 9."

" What's 9 ? " I asked.

** Look at your card I "

s

258 CHASING AND RACING

" But I haven't got a card ! '' Then I awoke !

The whole dream was of the greatest clarity, and
the incidents positively meticulous. There were none
of those absurd complications and transformations
which, as a rule, render dreams as the hallucinations of
a lunatic, or the observations of a victim of D.T. I
was fully awake. I got out of bed and scribbled on a
slip of paper, ** Euclid, No. 9." I looked at my watch,
it was 3.35 a.m. The race was due to be run at
3.30 p.m. Then I returned to bed and fell into a
dreamless slumber.

Next day on arriving at Waterloo station en route
for Kempton, in feverish haste I bought and scanned
the card. Euclid WAS No. 9 .'

I entered the train, and the first person to greet me
was " Nigger '* Duncan, Euclid's owner. I told him
my dream. " Well, I fancy the little horse,'' he con-
fided, ** and have backed him ; but on the strength
of your dream, old Cockie, I shall have another
hundred on."

As all the world knows, Euclid won ; but I was
not hemmed in ; on the contrary, I had an excellent
view of the race, and incidentally enriched my banking
account very considerably.

I must confess that from the time the weights
were declared I had a strong fancy for the horse,
and his name was among the half-dozen that I had
ticked off as likely propositions. Now comes the
sequel.

CHASING AND RACING 259

All my pals at The Raleigh Club knew of my dream
and its issue, so when the eve of the companion race
to the Jubilee, The Duke of York's, came round, I was
besieged by ribald fellows, who urged me to go home,
dream the winner, and give them " the office." Well,
I did have a dream, but it was not of Kempton or any
other racecourse.

I thought I was back at The Raleigh and telling
my cronies that I had tried to dream and had failed.
" Bad luck, Cockie," said Nat Hone, the amateur S.P.
merchant ; " but never mind, do as you did before ! "
Again I woke up, the hands of my watch were at
3.30 a.m.

Now the answer of the oracle was cryptic, Euclid
was in the race, but with a weight at which I did not
fancy him in the least. It must he No, 9 on the card^
I decided. When that publication was investigated,
there was what I imagined to be a further set back.
No, 9 was Miss Dollar^ trained by Charles Archer, who
told me he had not the least fancy for her ; but had
thrown away " a tenner " just for consistency's sake.
I decided for a modest "fiver" on Euclid I Miss
Dollar won at loo-i !

Thus did I place more faith in my personal
judgment than on the revelations of a mysterious
oracle, greatly to my chagrin and loss 1

On one other occasion only have I dreamed of a
race. To deal with this I have to go back to the Derby
of 1 879 — a far cry ! I had dreamed in phantasmagoria

26o CHASING AND RACING

fashion that the great race was to be contested hy
the animal kingdom ! It was a " straight run and in.*'
The winning-post was a flagstaff planted in the
middle of the course. A polyglot field turned out :
lions, tigers, elephants, bears, deer, pigs, rabbits,
and what not, including a squirrel, which got a flying
start, reached the flagstaff, a distance ahead of the
others, ran up it and sat crunching nuts on its
summit.

I do not think any one connected with racing
knew that such a colt as The Squirrel was entered ;
assuredly / did not ! and yet when the numbers
went up, lo! and behold, No, 22 '^^^ ^^' Acton' Sy
The Squirrel!

I was a very modest punter in those days ; but I
had my humble " Jerry o* Goblin '* on The Squirrel
at 50-1. (Had I known as much as I do now I could
have had 500-1.)

Now Mr. Acton was the assumed name of " Leo "
Rothschild, so The Squirrel's colours were ** Blue,
yellow cap," and these were exceedingly prominent
on the stand side of the course at the psychological
moment. What is more, they were first past the post,
and my callow heart rejoiced with an exceeding great
joy. Unfortunately for me there was another gee
which bore the same resplendent jacket and cap, Sir
Bevys, to wit, who afforded George Fordham his one
and only victory in the Derby.

The Squirrel had been started to make running for

CHASING AND RACING 261

his stable companion, and he did not wear a distinguish-
ing cap ! So that was that !

Incidentally, I may remark that the race of 1879
was run in a sea of mud, and that Sir Bevys was one of
the worst horses that ever annexed the Blue Ribbon of
the Turf.

CHAPTER XXIII

yA MONG the elder school of jockeys I had

/ % good friends in Tom Cannon, senior,

/ ^ George Fordham, and Johnny Osborne.

The last named once did me a very kindly

service. I was riding in a ** mixed ** race at Liverpool

over the cup course. It is a very short run from the

starting-post to the first turn, and there is always a

scramble to get well placed thereat. On this occasion

I was jammed on the rails, and in imminent peril of

going over them, horse and all, when Johnny Osborne

pulled out, crying, " Slip up here, sir, quick, or you*ll

be on the floor 1 " Of course I acted on the invitation

with alacrity, and so avoided what might have been a

very ugly accident.

Tom Cannon essayed to do me a bit of good, but
in quite a different connection. I was walking in the
paddock at Sandown, deep in the study of ** Form at a
Glance,'* when suddenly " the Backer's Bible " was
sent flying out of my hands. I turned round in wrath-
ful astonishment and found myself facing Tom.

" What's up .f* " I exclaimed, as I stooped to recover
the volume. " Let it be, squire," said Tom; " if you

follow that you'll be broke to the world before you're

262

CHASING AND RACING 263

much older." Then we had a little argument ; but
I have since come to the conclusion that Tom was
right !

Of course I was known to, and knew, practically
all the leading jockeys of the day, and one time and
another most of them rode for me, for I was not one
of those favourites of fortune whose exchequer permits
of their giving a lucrative " retainer " to their pet
horseman ; so I had to take my chance of securing
the services of any disengaged and competent "jock "
on the day of the race toward. When I could get him
I had a leaning to " Morny " Cannon, and was a
patron of the Chaloner family. George, Dick, and
Phil all rode for me. I knew the Loates' bunch.
Charles (" Ben ") often sported my ** two greens,"
and I think Tommy did so on one occasion — Sam
never ! Otto Madden, T. J. Calder, Walter Bradford,
and Frank Allsopp (for each of whom I held a very
high opinion) were either apprentices, or just out of
their indentures, when I first put them up ; but all
subsequently attained high distinction.

The few horses which I ran over the sticks or
between flags were, if not entrusted to my friend,
Roddy Owen, handled by Jesse Page, Prince's Stable
jockey, or by Arthur Nightingall. " Jesse ** was a
first-rate artist at the so-called illegitimate game, but
he hardly looked it ; for he was round as a little apple,
and, like myself, very short from the hips to the knee ;
nevertheless, he stuck close to the saddle over hurdles

264 CHASING AND RACING

or fences, and incidentally stuck still tighter to an
opponent in a close finish.

I have already described how Arthur Nightingall
nearly came to an untimely end when riding my
Chevy Chase in the " Grand prix des Haies," at
Auteuil.

A good yarn is told of George Fordham, which
may or may not have a foundation of truth ; but I
expect our helpful friend, ** Ben Trovato,'* had some-
thing to do with its embellishment. As the story goes,
a " little " owner, whose methods were not always of
the ** Caesar's wife '* class, once persuaded George to
accept the mount on a certain plater, whose job looked
such an easy one that substantial odds on were sure to
be asked for and laid. As in the case of the sporting
amateur rider, which I dealt with earlier, the owner,
when giving his " instructions " to Fordham, winked
the eye of wickedness, saying in effect :

" The horse is not very well to-day. Don't knock
him about; I am running him again to-morrow. He
will then be as fit as a fiddle, and you can win with him
just as far as you like, and back him till the cows come
home. You understand what I mean ? '*

" Oh yes, sir," said George, with a face like a plate.
" I know what you mean ! "

History has it that the great little jockey cantered
to the post, where he proceeded to dismount, gave the
horse a cut with his whip, and turned him loose with
this admonition :

CHASING AND RACING 265

" Go home to your master, and tell him that I
feared I could not do justice to your form, so thought
you would race better without me ! '*

This is a record of honesty of purpose ; now comes
the antithesis.

It is related by a certain friend of mine, who also
was an amateur rider and owner. Here again methinks
that " Ben '* collaborated in the output.

The episode is said to have taken place at Ascot,
where the said friend (being anxious to see how a colt
of his was going, in a mile and a half race, when still
three furlongs from home) posted himself at the turn
into the straight out of the Swinley Bottom. In the
race in question two of the most fashionable jockeys
of the day were riding. For obvious reasons we must
invent names for them, de mortuis nil nisi honum^ you
know ! Let us call one " Bud " and the other " Jed "
(no, they were not of American nationality).

As the field swept round the turn ** Jed " was
leading ; whilst ** Bud " was rather uncomfortably
boxed in the ruck. The latter cried out imploringly,
" 'Ere, 'old 'ard, Jed— 'old 'ard ! I shall never get
'ome by a nob I "

The same amateur, who was an Irishman, by the
way, had a good story about a ** rookie in racing "
from the wild and woolly west of Connemara, who was
taken to The Curragh, for a treat, by a sporting pal,
who proposed to mark his card with acumen and
precision ; but Mickey O'Hara, as we will call him.

266 CHASING AND RACING

being of an obstinate and independent disposition,
would have none of the ** certs '* and " cinches "
selected for him ; but, in the big event, insisted on
having his ** suvVin ** on a wretched animal which
figured among the ** any price you like others "
division, just because, if you please, the three-
cornered old skin was named " St. Patrick," and its
obscure rider was garbed in a green jacket, bearing
the Harp of Erin, ** back and front ! "

Well, ** the patron saint '* walked in with the
crowd, some two hundred yards behind the rest of the
field. Mickey elbowed his way through the seething
throng, until he reached the object of his investment >
tapping the jockey on the knee he inquired reproach-
fully :

** Beggin* yer anner's p^Lrdon^ pkwat detained yez ? "

CHAPTER XXIV

HARD on the heels of dreams come strange
examples of prescience, presentment,
telepathy, premonition, or whatever you
choose to call those semi-occult, sub-
conscious phenomena which have puzzled scientists
from time immemorial.

During one era of my racing career I had a dear
and beautiful friend who was of a highly sensitive
and receptive nature. She was par excellence a subject
for hypnotism and suggestion. I could put her into a
trance almost by a look, or a wave of the hand, and
when in a hypnotic state, she would make manifest
most extraordinary phenomena, among which, for
example, she would visualize a race, describe it minutely,
and name the colours of the riders. I had not the
least belief in her being able to foretell the ultimate
result of a contest which had not been run, but out of
curiosity I tried how the idea would work out.

My first venture in this direction was on the eve of
the Prince's Handicap at Gatwick. I fancied Cabin
Boy, belonging to my friend Hanbury, very strongly ;
but my ** medium " knew nothing of that, or, indeed,
the names of any of the horses likely to run.

As soon as she was " off '* she began a vivid
267

268 CHASING AND RACING

description of the race, and how Cabin Boy, whose
colours she described correctly (though she was not
acquainted with them), won comfortably. This vision
was repeated seriatim in the issue.

The fact may not be as astonishing as at first
thoughts it might appear, and may have been the result
of a telepathy which enabled her to voice my own
figuring of what was likely to happen.

The next case is rather more mysterious. I had
gone to Goodwood in 1893 for the purpose of backing
a certain animal which I fancied at the weights; whilst
my friend had remained in London. My selection
was not even placed, A passer-by in the paddock
informed me that there was a telegram for me on the
board. When I retrieved it, it read :

" Me dor a is certain to win."

It was from my hypnotic subject, and the official
time of dispatch was one and a half hours before that
set down for the race to be run !

When we met again I questioned her as to the
why and wherefore of her wire. She told me that on
the day of the Stewards* Cup she had fallen asleep in
her boudoir and had seen that race as in a dream, quite
clearly and distinctly. A filly with a jockey in all scarlet
had won, and on consulting the list of probable runners,
as set forth in The Sportsman^ she found it was Medora
(whose name, so she emphatically informed me, she
had never previously heard), whereupon she imme-
diately wired to me as quoted.

CHASING ANDJRACING 269

In this case I had no fancy for the bearer of the
** Grafton Scarlet,*' so that evidently telepathy was not
responsible for the forecast.

I next tried her for " The Caesarewitch/* and as she
named a gee which I thought particularly well handi-
capped, I had a flutter, but in the issue it was among
the ** also ran.*' Henceforth my fair friend firmly
refused to act as prophetess, nor did I persist in in-
fluencing her to do so ; but in 1896 she had a " pre-
sentiment ** as regards the result of the Derby, which
was certainly remarkable.

Early in the flat-racing season I had run across
Hay hoe, who then was training for ** Leo " Rothschild.

" You have a very smart string this season, Hayhoe,
have you not .? " I asked.

** Nuggets, sir — Nuggets ! " was his brief reply.

Every horse emanating from that stable carried
my money. They kept winning, and as each one
" clicked " I put half the winnings on St. Frusquin
for the Derby. Therefore when the great day came
I stood to win a very nice little packet on the bearer of
the blue jacket and yellow cap. My friend had all
along shared my confidence in St. Frusquin, but almost
at the last moment she implored me to hedge.

** I am very sorry, Cockie, dear,'* she said, " but St.
Frusquin will not win, he will be beaten by Persimmon.
I have seen it — I know it ! " At first I obstinately
stood to my guns, but when I was told that ** Mr. Leo "
was not present — because it was the anniversary of his

270 CHASING AND RACING

Grandfather^ s death * — I began to pay more heed to the
oracle of fate and hedged a bit ; but I was a loser on
the race.

When presentiments materialize in any event, one
is apt to regard them with more veneration than
perhaps they deserve ; but how often is it that these
same presentiments turn out to be mere nervous
hallucinations. In such cases one sits tight and
says nothing about them.

My bad luck over St. Frusquin was an echo of
what occurred in 1892, when half of every bet which I
landed went on La Fleche for the Derby. I had a
wholesome dread of Orme (for I held a very high
opinion of the Duke of Westminster's champion), and
was prepared to cover on him. When the numbers
went up, the unfortunate and suspicious occurrence
which had placed him hors de combat left, as I
figured it, a very easy journey open for Baron Hirsch's
flyer. But on arriving at Epsom she went all wrong,
and was a shadow of herself, which was revealed in
the preliminary canter.

History relates how Sir Hugo took her number
down. What a lucky gee ! What a lucky owner I
That poor La Fleche was stones below par, was proved
when a moderate filly, such as The Smew, got to her
head in The Oaks. At her best, the daughter of

* From this it would seem that Mr. Leo Rothschild " had a
hunch " that his colt was doomed to defeat by the Prince's
champion.

CHASING AND RACING 271

St. Simon could have given this one two stone and
lost her !

A propos St. Simon, this equine wonder was the
means of landing me my first substantial wager. To
narrate the circumstance I must go back to my salad
days.

It was Gold Cup day at Ascot, 1884. I had been
betting in humble sovereigns to begin with. It was
a black Ascot for me when Thursday arrived, for in an
attempt to " get home *' I had begun what to me, in
those days, counted as desperate plunging, and so I
found myself over ;^300 on the wrong side of the book.
A mere trifle you will say, but believe me, I did not so
regard it at the time. I consulted a certain noble lord
of my acquaintance who had the reputation of being an
infallible judge of form. He said :

** I don't advise you to plunge ; but there is a
certainty to-day. Barring accidents St. Simon is sure
to win the Cup.'*

Of course I myself felt confident of the colt's ability
to score, but my friend's pronouncement heartened me
to desperation. So I sought out Fry.

** What can I lay you St. Simon for the Cup ? "
I asked.

" Take you seven pounds to four, sir." The
leviathan was accustomed to my modest investments.

** I'll lay you ;^7oo to ;£400," I said casually.

Fry never moved a muscle of his countenance, but
turned quietly to his clerk :

272 CHASING AND RACING

** Seven hundred to four on St. Simon, Mr. Harding
Cox."

You may imagine my feelings during the pre-
liminaries, but they were as nothing to those I suffered
during the race. When the small field swung out of
the Swinley Bottom and came thundering up the
straight. Archer, on the favourite, seemed lost in
admiration of the neat polish of his tops. He sat as
still as a statue. All the other jockeys were either
niggling or hard at work. St. Simon sailed past the
post with his ears cocked, but I was not really happy
until the ** all right ** was signalled.

I was nearly ;^ioo to the good, and as my luck was
evidently in, I had a go on the Friday, and having
backed the winner of The Wokingham (at a nice price),
and dear old Corrie Roy for The Alexandra Plate, I
went home rejoicing.

Here endeth my reminiscences as far as racing and
hunting are concerned.

ENVOI

TO my everlasting shame I must confess to
being one of those miserable creatures
who must have a finger in every pie, the
savour of which appeals to his appetite.
Upon my word, if I were given the choice of beginning
all over again, I should be on the horns of a pretty
dilemma, and were I allowed the choice of one sport,
one pastime, and one artistic occupation, and one only of
each^ on which I must perforce concentrate all my
energies, I could not, for the life of me, come to a
decision such as would leave me complacent and
content with such choice.

Were I, for instance, to select as my most attractive
trio, race-riding, cricket, and painting, I should have
strong yearnings towards angling, rowing, and acting;
coursing, dog-breeding and exhibiting, and musical
composition ; or hunting, billiards, and lyrical effu-
sions ; without being able to rid my mind of leanings
towards the more essentially sporting forms of shooting.
This kink in my composition betrays the existence
of a virulent and chronic complaint known as versa-
tility, which is a veritable curse to those whom it

273 T

274 CHASING AND RACING

attacks. It has its side issues, its by-products, and its
complications too. Par exempky we will say I have
finally decided on angling, dog-breeding (including
training, exhibiting, and judging), and musical com-
position. I should, as regards the first, want to cast my
lines in all directions ; salmon for choice, then in their
declining order, trout, grayling, and all the so-called
** coarse ** fish, from the voracious pike to the humble
gudgeon. But hold ! What about sea-fish ? Oh
yes, I should yearn to hie me to Florida to fight tarpon,
or to Santa Catalina in pursuit of tuna, king fish, yellow
tails, albacore, sharks, and what not. In our home
waters I should want to be after tope, skate, congers,
hake, ling, turbot, plaice, pollack, sea-bream, mackerel,
whiting, cod, mullet, bass, etc., even including such
unconsidered trifles as dabs and pouting.

Then regarding the bow-wows, I should make a
bargain with Fate that I was not to be limited to the
sporting division alone, or to one breed of sporting
dog ; I should want to practise my knowledge of
canine eugenics on retrievers, spaniels, pointers, and
setters ; on bull-dogs, bull-terriers, and fox-terriers ;
on greyhounds and whippets, just for a start I

Then when it pleased me to exert my talent (alleged)
for melody, I should soar to the heights of Parnassus,
in an estacy of classical afiiatus. But next day
syncopated rag-time would occupy the aural stops in
my brain. Anon I would wander off into lilting valse
refrains and then burst into martial marches, with

CHASING AND RACING 275

interludes of jigs (Atavistic fancies recurring from a long
line of Hibernian ancestors). But I am wandering —
revenons a nos moutons I

This little excursion to the abstract leads me to say
a few words as to legitimate sport in general, as dis-
tinguished from pastimes and contests.

Our term ** sport " covers too much ground, as
does its corollary ** sportsman." My definition of
** sport ** for what it is worth, is ** an occupation where-
in man, with or without the aid of trained animals, sets
forth to find his quarry and to kill, or otherwise account
for it, in a legitimate manner." Any one so engaged
may be termed '* a sportsman."

Per Contra, A youth who spends his spare time
(and what a lot of it, too !) watching professional
football, and betting thereon, may imagine himself a
sportsman, but most assuredly he is not! Nor is he
who goes to race meetings and criticizes jockeys, when
he himself would not throw his leg over a trained race-
horse for all the wealth of Ind.

There is the " National Sporting Club." What
a misnomer I The institution has nothing whatever
to do with sport ! Its chief, nay, practically its only,
function is to stage boxing shows.

Now boxing is not a sport, even for the principals
engaged. It is "a competitive pastime," a most
excellent one at that, making, as it does, for skill, pluck,
and physical and moral endurance ; but as for the on-
lookers, who do not possess any of these desirable

276 CHASING AND RACING

attributes, I am inclined to direct on them the lemon
eye of contempt.

Field sports proper consist, to my mind, only of
hunting, coursing, falcony, angling, and shooting.

There are forms of the last-named which I would
eliminate from the category. Pigeon shooting, i,e, trap
shooting, of course ; for its most ardent votaries never
claimed it as a sport. It is, or rather was, essentially a
trial of skill, with money or other prizes offered for
competition ; moreover, it cannot be denied that it was
a medium for considerable gambling. The Bill which
was passed in the summer of 1 92 1 enacted that shooting
birds or animals from traps or other contrivances or
from the hand is illegal.

The shooting of hand-reared pheasants or wild-
duck at battues, where the birds are segregated in
limited areas, so that they are easily located by the
keeper, who is cognizant of their numbers, is a very
doubtful ** sport." This, too, I should call a trial of
skill, and it is only the absence of betting and the award
of prizes which raises it above the level of pigeon
shooting ; for here we have hundreds of one species
only, hemmed in with wire netting and prevented from
breaking away at awkward points by " stops,** i,e, small
boys, whose sticks, kept tapping, turn the running
pheasants to the right about and send them within the
encircling line of beaters. By such methods an
efficient drive ensures that the birds can be driven out
at practically any desired corner, where the guns arc

CHASING AND RACING 277

so placed that they have every opportunity of proving
their quality as " shots.'* Admittedly the beat is
generally so contrived that the birds may get well on
the wing and in the full impetus of flight before they
fly the gauntlet of shot that awaits them.

Otherwise, where is the difference between a
pigeon released from a trap, or a pheasant driven out
of cover at a given point ? In both cases the birds are
the target for a stationary marksman, and in neither has
the shooter the sporting pleasure oi finding them, or of
employing a dog, except as a means of retrieving the
casualties.

As for the charge of cruelty and barbarity which
has been levelled against pigeon shooting, it is a cry
of canting hypocrisy when raised by other votaries of
the gun, who delight in a holocaust of pheasant
feathers. Believe me, there is far more torture inflicted
on the long-tails than on the gentle ** doves." I have
shot, in my time, thousands of pheasants and thousands
of pigeons, and if asked where the greater cruelty
occurs, I should say, without hesitation, in the shooting,
at battues, of the former. If a pigeon falls within the
boundary of the ground, it is quickly retrieved by the
dog, and if alive, is skilfully put out of its misery. If it
goes away wounded, it seldom passes the " scouts
outside,** but if it does so, it returns to its loft, is
examined by the pigeon purveyor, and if found to be
at all seriously wounded is forthwith destroyed.

But what of the pheasant, the victim of an inferior

T 2

278 CHASING AND RACING

elevation, which goes away with both legs shattered,
but wings intact ? Many a time and oft have I,
when shooting shaws and hedgerows, three or four
days after a big covert shoot has taken place, come
across a wretched pheasant lying helpless in a ditch,
in the last throes of thirst and starvation, with its
terrible wounds gangrened. Oh yes, I know it is the
practice of the keepers to go round with their dogs
immediately after a shoot, to collect and despatch the
wounded, but the rule is very often more honoured
in the breach than in the observation, because, in order
to make a clean sweep of casualties, it would be
necessary to enter and disturb unshot coverts which
had been allocated to another day.

In any case a large proportion of victims are so
hidden that they are not discovered, and thus are left
to perish miserably ; unless perchance, a vagrant fox
or stoat comes along to administer the coup de grace.

On some moors, grouse driving is not a matter of
choice, but of necessity ; though whenever and
wherever the bonnie brown birds can be shot over
dogs, the true sportsman will elect so to account for
them. I regard, with something bordering on con-
tempt, the driving purist who seriously tells me he
would not waste time finding and flushing grouse on
their native heather, because they offer such an easy
mark that their killing becomes a certainty and conse-
quently wearisome. This is rubbish I The best shot
in the world, after shinning up a rugged mountain side

CHASING AND RACING 279

and wading through knee-high heather, on a hot August
afternoon, may well miss, right and left, a brood of
grouse rising almost at his feet, even when he has a
firm stance ; but if he has one foot on a boulder and
the other in a moss hole, it is odds that he will do so !
I would give such an one a hundred cartridges and bet
him two to one he would not bring home twenty-five
brace of grouse — walked up ; though he might be
sure of producing the percentage at the butts.

The same applies to partridge shooting. I con-
sider the driven partridge, coming down wind in full
flight, to offer the greatest test of skill which the gun
can be put to. I may say that this form of trial is one
which I have not shone at as consistently as I should
have desired. Sometimes I have performed almost
brilliantly, at others I have shown form which would
disgrace a neophyte. Self-confidence is the great
thing ! When the eye obeys the brain, and transmits
its message to the hand correctly, the gun is thrown up
at the proper alignment and a kill follows ; but let a
shooter miss unexpectedly, and then begin to wonder
why, and he is lost ; his confidence is gone, and he
begins mentally measuring distances and allowances.
He " pokes ** at his birds, with the inevitable conse-
quence that he misses time after time.

Partridge driving has its uses, especially late in the
season ; but it lacks the joy of setting out on a fine
September morning, to begin on an expansive field of
roots, with a brace of staunch pointers (which work in

28o CHASING AND RACING

harmony and back one another faultlessly), and a good
retriever or spaniel that will drop to shot and wing,
and never leave a runner until it is safe in his tender
mouth !

It may be very satisfactory to your stationary
shooter to swank, in the evening, how he had two
dead rocketters in the air at 'once, and doubled up a
third with his second gun, and how he had at least
fifty birds on the ground at once at that hot corner !
The satisfaction may even be more acute, if he has
seen his next-door neighbour, that crack shot. Lord
Slammenem, blow the tail out of one cock and drop
a leg of another.

But give me a boon companion, a staunch pointer, a
brace of cockers, and a flat-coated retriever of my own
particular breed, and set me on a great expanse of
marsh where snipe abound, and duck are frequently
met with ; where, on the sides of the heather-clad hills
which surround it, grouse can be walked up, and many
a woodcock flushed. Give me these conditions, I
repeat, and you can have all the pheasant battues and
grouse and partridge drives, and all the boasting of your
prowess with the shooting iron, that your heart may
desire !

Of falconry I know little, but it must be a very
pretty sport, and one which requires a great knowledge
of nature and skill in training and retaining your
birds.

CHASING AND RACING 281

When I was asked by the Duke of Beaufort * to
write on " Coursing " for the Badminton Library, it
was decided that ** Falconry " should be incorporated
in the volume, so that I had an opportunity of studying
the sport (on paper) so ably dealt with by the Hon.
Gerald Lascelles ; but I have never had an ocular
demonstration of its thrills, except occasionally when,
in the course of my ramblings, I have witnessed an
impromptu flight. I have seen a female sparrow-hawk
stoop to, and strike, a pigeon ; and a pair of these
aggressive hawks outmanoeuvre a heron and bring
him to earth after a most exciting set-to. The
** frankie '* would throw himself on his back in the air,
and as one of the hawks " stooped," he would attempt
to, and nearly succeed in transfixing it with a dagger-
like thrust of his lethal bill ; but the end came when
the smaller hawk (male) made a flank attack, at the
same moment as his mate " stooped " from above.
They met on the vile body of the heron, and all three
descended, in a cloud of feathers, into a large bed of
reeds growing in a foot of water. I ran as hard as I
could to the spot, when the heron rose laboriously and
much the worse for wear. The male hawk also made
off at sight of me ; but where was the big hen ? It
is possible that Mr. Heron had skewered her ; though
I failed to find anything but a sprinkling of feathers to
denote where the trio had landed.

• And also by his representative, my old friend, Alfred Watson,
better known as ** Rapier " of the Sporting and Dramatic News.

282 CHASING AND RACING

In Egypt I saw quite a lot of natural falconry. No
sooner did we commence operations, when out quail
shooting, than we were followed by hawks and falcons
of many varieties, and these would stoop to the little
birds as we flushed them in the most audacious fashion,
altogether ignoring the fact that they themseves were
in peril of their lives from villainous explosives ; but
we were so interested and amused by their evolutions
that we invariably spared the raiders.

THE END

THE AMATEUR'S DERBY

By HARDING COX

An exciting racing novel.
Crown 8vo. 78. 6d. net. \Ready Shortly,

THE ESCAPING CLUB

By A. J. EVANS

The Kent and Test Match Cricketer.

Illustrated. Ts. 6d. net. Sixth Edition.

" If there is ever another war and Mr. A. J. Evans, the well
known Hampshire, Kent and Test Match cricketer, takes part in
it, there will probably be strict instructions on the enemy side that
in no circumstances is he to be taken prisoner. For he must be
an awful nuisance to look after. Indeed, on reading his book,
one feels almost sorry for the Germans and Turks who tried to
hold him. No more absorbing story of personal experience in war
time has ever been told than this cheery narrative. —

Daily Chronicle.

DAYS AND NIGHTS OF
SHIKAR

By Mrs. W. W. BAILLIE
Illustrated. Demy 8vo. 128. 6d. net.

** If these shooting stories had been ascribed, say to Salons, the
reader would still have been struck by the intrepidity of the chief
actor — by his coolness in danger, his marksmanship, his endurance,
and his indifference to discomfort. With the alteration of a few
unimportant words, such as pronouns, the sex of the author would
be undisclosed. Her book differs from books of the day in that it
ignores sex, but none of the many published to prove the equality
of the sexes make their point so effectively as this plain statement
of what a woman can accomphsh in a field of which man had long
established himself exclusive proprietor." — Times.

JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LTD., VIGO ST., W.i

" The most thrilling volume of the year." — Daily Mail.

SOME EXPERIENCES OF

A NEW GUINEA
RESIDENT MAGISTRATE

By Capt. C. a. W. MONCKTON

F.R.G.S., F.Z.S., F.R.A.I.

Witk numerous Illustrations.
Fourth Edition. Demy 8vo. 2 Is. net.

" One of the most entertaining books of its kind that we have
ever read. Captain Monckton is a born storyteller, and weaves a
singularly frank and amusing narrative of his doings. We trust
that he will fulfil his promise to write another volume, for he
evidently has a great deal more to say about New Guinea and its
strange people." — Spectator.

" He was his own surveyor, surgeon, blacksmith, gaoler, and
undertaker ; he had to perform marriages, and sail crazy ships up
and down a reef-studded, shark-haunted coast, and baffle sorcerers
usually with some devilment a bit more scientific than their own.
For his tales and adventures readers must go to the book, they
are too many and various to be summarized, and the verve of
of the telling is half the point." — Times.

LAST DAYS
IN NEW GUINEA

Being further Experiences of a New Guinea Resident
Magistrate.

By Capt. C. A. W. MONCKTON
Illustrated, Demy 8vo. 18s. net.

JOHN LANE THE BODLEY HEAD LTEi., VIGO ST., W.i

I
RETURN TO the circulation desk of any

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DUE AS STAMPED BELOW

AUG 30 1995

RETURNfcD

SEP U 7 1994

Hanta Cruz Jitney

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