HUNTING

STEEPLE-CHASING

a n d

RACING SCENES,

IllMstrations by Ben Hernng,

DESa^JPTIONS BY 7'^

I

HUNTING;
STEEPLE-CHASING,

RACING SCENES.

ILLUSTRATED BY BEN. HERRING.

EDITED BY J. NEVILL FITT,

Author oj "Hearths and Hoincsttads" £-\-.

LONDON :
JAMES PEDDIE, 45, ESSEX STREET, STRAND.

TATTEESALL'S.

IN presenting our Kttlo work to the public, it became necessary to choose some
frontispiece that might, as it were, afford a theme on Avhich to foimd oiu- introductory
notice ; for a preface, like the preparatory canter to the race-horse, serves to give
the aspu'ing author confidence ere he is actually called on to face the reader — we had
almost ■written starter. This selection was a matter of no small difficulty ; for though
scenes representing either one diversion or another are easily pitched upon, we de-
sired to give something that should embody the idea of the three great English sports,
Hunting, Steeple-Chasing, and Eacing. In one spot, and one only, may they all be said
to centre, and that spot is Tattersall's. Hero the blood sire and brood mare are almost
weekly offered for public competition. Here the yearling, though certainly not showing
to such advantage as in the green pastiu-es of Hampton Com-t, Middle Park, East
Acton, Knavesmiro, or Doncaster, is yet to be seen. And in some sort the latter
resorts of pleasiu'c and business to so many connected with the race-horse are mere
extensions of the spot we have now under consideration — are Tattersall's "out of Town,"
so to speak — since the same influence presides over both. Here the best himters in the
world are yearly offered for public competition ; and within the last few years it has
been our lot to see exemplified the price that men who mean business will pay for
blood, bone, and weight-carrying power. Here we have seen a young and green horse
of promise realise the uiiheard-of sum of £450 for his good looks alone ; and this not,
be it remembered, with the idea of winning large stakes through his means, but simply
to enable one who will not be denied to hold his own in the fii'st fliglit over a stiff
coimtiy. Here also are at various times to be seen the steeple-chasers of the day —
good, bad, and indifferent, the two latter classes unfortunately predominating, whom
their owners, either fi-om necessity or prudence, are anxious to be cpiit of.

Xeither must hoimds be forgotten : though latterly it has become the custom to
dispose of them at their respective kennels, still notices are not by any means wanting in
which Tattersall's has been selected as the venue for their transfer of ownership. Here
meet the sporting men of all classes, the owner of horses, the gentleman jockey and the
ti'ainer, the M.F.H. and the "leg," the betting man and the "nobbier." Here, during
the spring and summer months, the student of character can easily detect the inmtsman
and whip seeking situations ; the stud-groom who has brought his late master's stud in
blooming condition to the hammer, and is himself likewise on the look-out for a situation
for the ensuing season ; while, in juxtaposition to these, may be seen the loafer and cad
of every dcgi-ce, anxious for a job that may tiu-n him in a shilling, or, should that not
be forthcoming, athirst for the humble "two pennorth."

'Ko scene, then, could be so well suited for oiu' fi-ontispiece as the one where
sporting characters of every type and A'ariety mingle ; and as the artist has presented to
the eye a truthful sketch of Tattersall's as it is, a slight resume of its origin and
foundation, from our pen, may not be altogether out of place in the introduction to a
work descriptive of those sports which ai-e so intimately connected with the time-
honoured rendezvous. From authentic records we have been able to glean the following
facts concerning the " Comer," as it was wont to be termed, and the family whose
fortunes have been so closely identified with its history and records : —

About the year 1760 we find Mr. Tattersall opened the Old Corner, and by his

straiglitforward conduct and upright dealings soon gained the esteem of all with whom
he was brought in contact. That he had a good knowledge of the horse and his
requirements niay be inferred from his purchase of the celebrated Highflyer, who
realised such a sum for his services at the stud, that the estate called Highflyer Hall
was purchased therefrom. In the early part of the present century a violent discussion
raged amongst sporting writers as to whether this horse had ever been beaten.
Though Ave are inclined to the belief that, like many of those early turf worthies
who had few horses to contend against them, and no handicaps to give the bad ones
a chance, he was always victorious, no satisfactory proof either way is forthcoming.
It matters but little, as his stud fame is a sufficient "In Memoriam" for the scion of
Herod; and when Old Tat gave his celebrated "Hammer and Highflyer" toasts at the
Annual Jockey Festival, doubtless it was more of the stud farm than the starting-post
that he was thinking. In 1776 he signed a lease of the place for ninety-nine years
with Lord Grosvenor ; but the term had not run its lengtli when his successors sought
a fresh resting-place, and the new buildings were erected at Knightsbridge. How many
delightful memories vanished with the old spot, it boots not now to inquu-e. How
the pleasant afternoons on the la^vu were missed by the old school, and how many
figures, long since passed from the rooms, must have come more dimly on the imagination
when, the haunt of nearly a century was vacated, will but little interest the modern
school of turf men. The old " Corner," like old customs, has passed away, and now,
instead of a race or two per diem at Newmarket, and but a few betting men with the
oniric to the rooms, we find racing enough to satisfy the A'ericst glutton, and bookmakers
outnumbering backers. The numbers of subscribers increased so much that a new
room was built even at the old place; and when, in 18G5, the new edifice arose, the
temple of fortune with all its adjuncts was not forgotten. But it is not so much with
the betting-room, sacred to chosen members of the turf, we would now deal, as the broader
sphere of the yard, where, despite the immense quantity of stabling provided, weeks' —
even at times months' — notice is required to procure a stall. Here, on every Monday and
Thursday during the season, save the Thursdays in the Epsom and Ascot weeks, may be
seen horses of all descriptions — from the slashing hunter worth five huucbcd guineas, to the
diminutive " sheltie," who, with a character, will fetch a goodly siim to train om- future
race of cross-country heroes. Here, all excitement, with tossing mane and fiery cj-e,
the blood sire comes proudly up to the box, and, ere Mr. Tattersall's warning voice
can be heard, clears the ring for himself of all interlopers. Here the high-priced
" j'oungster," having been put throiigh the mill and foimd wanting, is often at two
years old sold at about a shilling in the pound of his former price — as a yearling — for
"a cabber." But perhaps the most truly representative day we could select is " Milward
Monday," when men of all classes and denominations come together to witness the dis-
posal of the draft of those hackneys for which Mr. Milward has justly become so flxmous.
Eare prices they fetch, too, and but little call has Mr. Tattcrsall to point out thcii- merits,
as with grand action they step down the ride, and a nod responds to nearly every footfall.
Men of business, men of pleasure, turf men, hunting men, and chiu-chmcn, all like a good
hackney, and all strain a point to be there when these little horses are put up. Besides
the fine range of stabling all round the yard, there is an outer square of boxes for year-
lings, stallions, and brood mares ; while over the inner range of stables is a gallery for
carriages, haimess, &c., which, on any grand day, is thronged to excess in all those
parts near the rostrum. The same cupola and the same fox that adorned the old yard
are still to be seen in the centre of the present one ; and long may they afford a rallying
point for those who come to hear the taj) of the Tattcrsall hammer. How the present
members of the firm were entertamed on the occasion of their removing to their new
quarters is on record, and we need only refer to the event to prove that we haA'c made
no mistake in taking Tattersall's for our opening remarks on Hunting, Steeple-Chasing,
and Eacin".

/

THE DUKE OF BEAUFOET, M.F.H.

WE have chosen this portrait of His Grace the Duke of Beaufort, because we consider
Ilis Grace one of the best representatives of Masters of Hounds that can be found.
Ifot only is the establishment at iKidniintou one of, if not the largest in the kingdom,
as ■well as one of the oldest established, but it is also one of the most perfect. Many
other noblemen and gentlemen keep hounds entu-ely at their own expense, but none of
them, we believe, hunt six days a week, save the Duke of Beaufort's, with the exception
of the Burton, and these, during a part of the season before last, made eight days a
week, by having two packs at different fixtiu-es twice diuing the week, Mr. Chaplin
himself handling one and C. Hawtin the other. "Whether this was carried out during
the last season we cannot say ; but from Earl Fitzwilliam being iuvited to hunt the
Wragby "Woodlands this Spring, we imagine it was not. This, it will be seen, is the
only pack that rivals the Duke's in number of himting clays ; but Mr. Chaplin, like most
other masters, does not, we believe, keep them solely at his own expense. However,
it is not simply the fact of such an establishment being kept up at his sole cost that
induces us to select the Duke's as the fittest portrait to accompany our huuting sketches.
"We look on him as one of the most practical Masters the country can produce, and few
are more thoroughlj' grounded in the science of Venerie than His Grace. This he has
proved on more than one occasion, when unexpectedly thrown out of a huntsman, by
taking the charge of the pack himself, hunting them himself, and superintending all the
minutia3 of kennel discipline, without which condition cannot be maintained. An adept at
most sports, we haA"e seen His Grace, with horses of his own breeding, gaining a fair share
of success on the race-course, and Yauban, Gomera, Siberia, Ceylon, Em-opa, and others
won quite enough to pay their way. The horses purchased turned out scarcely so lucky ;
for thoiigh Lord Eonald bore the blue and white hoops many a time to victorj-, the high-
priced Eustic sadly failed in his Derby mission, and in fact never bore out his two-year-
old promise. The neat-looking, half-bred Birdhill also did yeoman's service in his day.
Popular, however, as the blue and white became, it is in the buff and blue that the Duke
most shines ; and then, when on one of his weight-carriers, watching the dog-pack fly the
walls in their stride, or the bitches streaming away over the grass, he is in his element.
Hunting his native county, a great portion of it his own property, he not only spends
his own income amongst his own people, but does things in such style that large num-
bers of visitors are attracted to the neighboiu-ing toA^iis and villages, and every available
stable is taken up dm-iug the season. His meets at any favourite fixture are as large as
those of the Quorn, Pytchley, or any other fashionable pack, and so full is the coimtry
of foxes that a long ili-aw is a thing almost unknown. From the time they changed
from stag to fox, far away in the last century, no pains have been spared to make
the pack as perfect as possible ; and under Pliillip Payne, who came from Cheshire, the
New Forest "Justice" was introduced, and through his descendants has become a kennel
celebrity. "With him we believe came in the gray or badger-pied colour that is so
common in this pack ; and though the "Belvoir tan" has of late years in a great measure
superseded it, as well as the lemon and white, which very probably comes from the

old stag-hound blood, they say in the Hunt " that a Beaufort would never be happy
withoiit a badger-pied hound on the benches." Will Long succeeded Phillip Payne, and
for years carried the IJadmiuton horn, and cheered them on through the Lower Woods
or got quickly away after his fox from Newnton Gorse, and, tradition says, put far more
fashion on the hounds than they had formerly borne. ^Yhen, in course of time, he
resigned his post, an able successor was found in Tom Clarke, who not onlj- came
himself, but brought some of his favomite Tubnej' pack, bought at unheard of prices,
with him, besides giviug 210 guineas for the lot that contaiiied the famous Fleecer
at Quorn. For years Tom contiuued prime minister at Badminton, and still kept up
the old love for hounds of large size and plenty of bone ; and while perhaps they are a
little flatter in then- sides than some packs, their legs and feet are excellent, and very
few can tm-n them out with cleaner necks and shoidders. Though we always himg
to the bitches as being nearly the perfection of foxhoimds, Clarke swore by the dog-
hounds, and loved to dwell on the style they flew the walls without touching on a
good scenting day, when he was trying in vain to catch them on Saifron or Canary.
The former, which he considered the best horse in his stable, was very resolute, an
undeniable water-jumper, and generally managed to put him down a time or two at
small trumperj' fences, but was a perfect glutton at big ones. He came to Badminton
as a cub hunter, and looked di-eadfidly worn and shaky about the pins. In the season
of 1867-8 Clarke left, when the Duke made him a present of his two old favomites, and
the Marquis of Worcester, who is not to be beaten over either vale or walls, took the
horn, and we hear has had very good sport, and fully kept— ^ip the Badminton
prestige, though report says the horn will be placed in the hands of 'a paid
huntsman next season. Few loA'e to see hounds do their own work better than the
Duke, and though none get away quicker after a fox, there is no galloping and
shouting to get theii" heads up. The consequence is, there are very few days in the
season on which they do not get sport. As an instance of the interest he has j^ersonaUy
taken in the pack, we remember once seeing the Duke himself pull up and go back
after a young bitch that was left running another fox in cover when the hounds went
away, and brmguig her up to us at a check long afterwards ; thus for her sake sacrificing
a lai'ge portion of a fine hunting run.

In no country docs a better understanding exist with the farmers than here, and it
is so fidl of foxes that they continually find them in pits and under walls in the open
fields. In fact, a Master so popular is siu-c to get them well preserved ; and when we
state that one year he piu'chased over five huncb'cd brace of pheasants, besides those his
own preserves produced, to give away to people over whose lauds he hunted, it will be
understood how this good feeling comes about. Though it is in the light of a Master
of Hounds we are considering His Grace, not to glance at him on the coach-box would
be an unpardonable omission, and indeed few haA^e seen him in the hunting field who
have not also seen him on the box. For be the distance far or near, a well-loaded di-ag
is the conveyance to cover, and when the distance is over eight or ten miles, as it is
three or foiu' days a week, there are two teams to do it. The hounds also on these
occasions are vanned both out and homo, and foiu" mules, a large number of which are
bred at Badminton for farm work, are the team employed.

To complete the character of a country gentleman, the Duke is also a large farmer,
and in his Clydesdale stallion has one of the handsomest cart sires in England, and
the bullocks to be seen in his sheds amply repay the drive from Badminton. But they
are so well known at our Smithfield and other shows that comment on them is
unnecessary. Thus we have endeavom-ed to sketch the Duke, not as Master of the
Horse, or one of the dignitaries of the land, but as a country gentleman living amongst
his own pcojile, engaging in country pursuits ; and however highly he maj' bo esteemed
elsewhere, you must go to Badminton and its neighboui'hood to know how deeply his
name is cherished in the hearts of his people.

THE MEET.

HEADER (kind, of course), wc are about to ask j'ou to accompauy us to tlio Meet.
IMucli could "wc ■wi'ite ou a scene sucli as can only bo witnessed in our own merry land, —
more on the influence wliicli sport individually and collectivelj' exercises on our characters.
How the Iron Duke remarked that his best ofHccrs ■were hunting men — but it strikes us
that you might perchance have seen all this before ; so we will shun the well-trodden
path, and come at once to business. Another thing we must also deny ourselves; it
would please us, and you doubtless, could wo order round the drag, and then, cigar in
mouth, place ourselves behind four good steppers, which artistically handled (that is the
term, is it not ?) would, provided they neither ran into a cart nor a cutler's shop at an
awkward turn, take us the ten miles intervening between our home and the fixture
comfortably -within the hoiu-. But di'ags well horsed and turned out are few and far
between, so we must eschew them. Apologies for them are available enough ; but a
made-up team, and a coachman who is not quite certain where his horses are going or
what they are doing, is by no means to our taste ; we will leave them to those who like
" to do the swell cheap," as a friend of ours once remarked when going to cover with a
neighboiu" whose jmir had cost only " a pony" between them.

Don't misunderstand us ; no one likes a really clever team better than ourselves ; it
is only the makeshifts and imitations we wish to keep clear of. There are many gradations,
fi-om the team downwards, for those who do not care to ride their own horse to cover —
some good, some bad, others perhaps neither one or the other, even down to what a swell
once did in the shires. Expecting a horse to meet him at the fixture, and there being
nothing to carry him, he walked the four miles, pink, leathers, and boots notwith-
standing ! We honom- his pluck and love of sport, but would rather not follow his
example. Thank goodness there is no necessity ; for awaiting ns are a couple of the
best conveyances a man can have to covert, in the shape of two high-bred hacks, four-
tecn-two, with quick, good action. Yes ; broad green lanes, an occasional cut across a
field or two for a nick, and a clever snafSe-bridle hack, against the world for going to
covert. But let us leave gossiping and get into the saddle. There is a sensation, as
the little one bounds beneath you, no mode of conveyance on wheels can give — not even
the much-lauded velocipede ; and though they can do thcrr ten or twelve miles an horn-,
it will be years (we hope) ere we see a man in pink guiding himself along to the
fixture astride one. Heavens, what an idea ! and how small he would look, di-aggiug his
two-wheeled steed up some steep hill that it refused to encounter imder his burden !
But we are sku-ting ere the hounds are throMni into cover, and must get back once
more to om- neat hackneys and the green lanes. They are warmed up now and striding
away right merrily ; the brown with hind legs well beneath him, playing easily with his
bit and tossing the foam in showers over his neck and shoulders, while the chestnut lays
hold of his snaffle, and rakes away as though going for a plate across the flat. But lot us
turn short over that low stile ; it is nothing particular and both will do it well enough.
There is only a small drain, and big though firm bank, and wc are at the park gates.
Pretty fail- schooling, you may say, for little ones, but with good taking ofi' and the wind
in them, mere ponies will do wonders. It is after a bit of gallopiug that fences tell.

No mistake, you see, and, as I prophesied, we are well over, and on the fine green
sward of the park. Here we enjoy another of those scenes that few countries but England
can show ; and as the mansion stands out in relief from the deep background of trees, no
one can fail to notice how much it is in character witli the expanse of water in the hollow,
where the river has been swelled almost to a lake, and the herds of deer that lie listlessly or
standing gaze intently on the passing strangers, imdcr the rough old thorn trees. Quiet
as they appear, try to approach them, and singling any buck from the herd send a bullet
through his heart or brain ; you will find it no easy matter, and will see that natural

instinct has not wliolly deserted them. Hero vre would faia pourtraj' the meet, but it
may not be ; and great as the charm such a locality thi'ows around the scene, vfc must
pass it by ; and making our exit from the domain (on wbich we have been trespassers,
by the way, though himting men arc ncA-er called to account for laches of this descrip-
tion), join the busy throng iu the village beyond.

Ilere wc find a crowd of boys, shopkeepers and others ; a few grooms in livery
walking theii' masters' horses about opposite the King's Axms or some other hostelry.
Then a dog-cart or two from the neighbouring barracks, probably with a shaky wheeler
and queer bo-kicker in the traces, will make tlieii- appearance. Then a yoimgster comes
up "bloody with spiu'ring, fiery hot with speed," on a clever galloping hack. To him
succeeds a jolly green-coated yeoman, bestriding his nag that takes him to market and
round the land, while his hunter, more probably than not a fine five-year old with some
Sledmere or Bishop Burton blood in his veins, has been "sent on." Doubtless he cost
his owner tlu'ce figures, and by the time he has had a couple of seasons' fun out of him,
will, with luck pay liira a good percentage for the investment, and perhaps, some daj-,
come out as a finished himter " iii the shires." Biit hold hard, and make room !— for here
is Will and the pack. Truly, a parlous chance for them you will fancy, as daintily trotting
beside and around his horse, they thi'ead their way through the crowd. But the
first whiji is in advance^ and, "By your leave, Sir," or "hounds, gentlemen, please,"
clears a ready track; while the outstretched crop and suspended thong is signal
enough to keep them clear of danger. And so wheels and fidgetty hacks arc safely
passed ; and with the pack grouped around him, Old Will sits iu the centre of the village
green, the hero of the hour. Aid to the rustic mind at least he is a hero. W ho knows
how many a youthful heart, iuspii-ed by the scene, may not then and there resolve to
go to the stables; and how many embryo huntsmen and whips may be gazing from
that admiring crowd. Sec the blue-eyed yoimgster, who has edged himself within the
scarlet-coated triangle, and is renewing his acquaintanceship ^vith his old playmate
Slasher, who was Avalked at Cleaver's the butcher's, last summer. As he pets and
fondles him, who can tell what visions of future glory in pink and pigskin are not floating
through his youthfid brain. Not a little delighted is the comely dame, his mother,
to point out to her neighbours how little Bob takes it "quite natm-al-liko ; " and
even the fii'st whip overlooks the encroachment, as he receives a good-humoured smile,
and gently %varns Bob to keep back. Perhaps were the good dame less comely, the
urchin would be dismissed more promptly and unceremoniously. But the scene
thickens, and. the hounds are by no means the only objects of attraction. Pinlvs are
crowding in apace, and, better still, the bright smiling faces of England's daughters arc
mingling in the scene. Not as years ago, when Fielding wrote "Tom Jones," and Di
Vernon was an exceptional instance of the fairer sex joining the chase ; they are now
to be seen at the covert side, happily in good numbers ; and any meet of importance
wUl be favoured by the presence of at least ten or a dozen, often far more. This is as
it should be ; and while ladies sanction the sport by then- presence, fox-himting must
floui'ish. The battle between common sense and prejudice has been a strong one, and
many a thorough gentleman of the old school have we heard say: " No wife or daughter
of mine shall hunt ;" but common sense has carried the day, and a man may now
enjoy his gallop without being debarred an approving glance at the prowess he exhibits.
Though place aux dames is om* motto on the present occasion, there is one more important
personage still ; and when the Master arrives hats are doftcd, and we bow to the autocrat
of the horn-. No matter be he old or yoimg, his word is law (or should be) ; and it is
only when he has exchanged his hack for the three-huudi-ed guinea himter that the
signal to " thi'ow off"" is given, and the crowd put in motion. Let us hope he is one of
those who try to please all classes, and that he will select a covert where horse, foot, and
artillerj^ — or in other words both the carriage company and pedestrians — will stand an
equal chance of seeing the fun. At any rate, with his nod the crowd is dispersed; and
the meet for the day is over, while, kaleidoscope-like, another section of the ever-changing
chase must occujjy our pen and pencil.

BREAKING COYEE.

" nOLD hard, gcutlcmcu, pray hold hard ! " exclaims the master, as his hounds biuy
themselves in the gorse, and the field shows an inclination to surround it on every side.
The caution is by no means unnecessary, for a lot of young ones are akeady creej^ing
forward for a start, each prepared to go the instant the fox shows himself, with not
the slightest intention of waiting for the hounds. Wait for hounds indeed ! not
they. Does not Whyte-Melville say "hounds are a bore"? and is there not a legend
concerning a noble lord, who retm-ucd to Melton, and said he should have had a capital

day's sport, had not the d hounds boon continually in the way? No, they can do

nothing so dead slow as wait for hounds, but once let the fox show himself, and each
will catch his horse by the head, send in the spiu-s, and forthwith proceed with a will to
the task of cutting down his dear friend Tom, Jack, or Ilarry, as the case may be ;
unless liis horse, having the true interests of sport at heart, should put him down at the
fii'st fence. Well may the master say, "hold hard," when he knows the sort of men he
has to deal with, and that the fox, once headed, will in all probability be turned into the
hounds' mouths, and chopped ; thus rendering the gorse, in their best vale country, null
and void for the day. We will suppose that his remonstrance is attended to, and the
field collected in the spot least likely to cause mischief. Will, the first whip, canters
away to the back of a thick blackthorn hedge, and there posts himself, immovable as a
statue. Save an occasional cheer from the master, aU is now silent as death ; he is wind-
ing his horse about a narrow track in the gorse, occasionally jumping over a bough that
hangs across his path and interferes with his progress ; not a hound is visible for several
minutes, then a stern or two may be seen waving above the evergreen in some thinner
spot.

The covert is a small one, yet so thick that it occupies a long time in drawing, and,
though invisible, the pack are spread over it like sheeji in a pastui'e, each forcing and
tearing his way through the dense mass of stems and thorns. At length the field
become impatient, and a few venture to shift theii- quarters, but are quickly brought to a
sense of then delinquency by an exclamation more expressive than polite. Another
interval of silence, then one hound speaks, another and another follow suit, and at length
the fox is found. But a fox found and a fox gone away are not exactly the same thing,
and we must yet exercise om* patience for awhile. Strange as it may seem, though the
gorse is but afew acres in extent, and there are, at least, eighteen couple of hoimds working
in it, the fox continues to elude all their eftbrts without as yet quitting his stronghold.
In fact, where they have to force themselves tlu'oughthe stems with difiiculty, he creeps
beneath Nvith the greatest ease, and, wise in his generation, runs foil, and though himself
himted, hunts the pack. Instinct tells him that the scent is good, and did he try conclusions
at once with them over the open, twenty minxites would seal his fate. But even to him
on a mild morning, the close covert becomes somewhat oppressive, so going out at the
far corner, thoiigh he has no intention as yet of leaving it, he runs up the side, and for a
few moments enjoys the cool breeze. Though he knows it not, the eye of his enemy
Will is on him all tlie time. Very silently and quietly he is noting his shape, make, size,
and colour, so that during any part of the chase, he may again be able to recognise him.
But he does not holloa, he laiows his business far too well for that; he knows that as yet

I

the fox does not mean going, that the pack are well on him, and that to holloa would
only expose his own situation without conducing to the end in view. Scarcely has
reynard regained the cover, ere the hounds stream out, and race up its side. As the
leaders flash over the line where the fox again took shelter, Will's voice is for the first
time heard, and with a crack of the whip, he tm-us them to the old hounds who have
never left the line. That done, he resumes his post, silent aud watchful as Lcfore.
Eeynard having tried fresh air at one part of the cover, now thinks he may venture to do
so at another, and breaks right in front of the assembled field. Very different is their
reception from Will's. 'No sooner does he show himself, than a dozen different thi-oats
proclaim the fact, in notes varying from bass to treble, and as he races to a small patch of
thorns, several yoimg ones ride at him with the intention of cutting him off from the
cover. Out rush the pack at the shouting, wild as hawks, with then.- heads up, flashing
all over the place, and, in the temporary absence of the master, three or foiu- are capping
them on to different points at the same time, each one having seen the fox at a separate
spot. Meanwhile their bustle and him'y is his salvation, he slips back quietly down a
ditch \mseen behind them, and again enters the covert, threads its mazes,
and then, Avhile all the hm-ly-burly is going on at the other end, breaks under
Will's very nose, and sets his head straight over tho open. Like a grey-
hound he crosses the pastm-e, tops the fence, and then off comes Will's cap, and,
with a screech, he lets his master know that he's away. Crashing through aud over the
gorsc, comes the himtsman, and *' Where is it, Will ? " having been satisfactorily answered,
a peculiar note on the horn, only used on such occassions, brings the pack Uke arrows to
the spot. They have never recovered the line on the foiled groimd, and are ready to
instantaneously answer the signal. " Yo doit, there ! " says the master, capping them on
the line, and moving gently in the direction himself. They swing round, di'op their
sterns, and, with a slight whimper, are away. Then, sitting down in his saddle, he takes
the place he means to keep, and crashes thi-ough the first bullfinch nearly level with
the body of the pack, and full fifty yards on theii- left. "Hoick holloa ! hoick holloa !
gone away ! " shouts Will, to let the field know of then- departure, and then, turning his
horse short roimd, puts him over a stile and di-oj), aud so by a line of lanes aud gates
down wind, to the only big woodland within a dozen miles, and which it is ten to one he
reaches before the fox. What about the field ? Well, we have seen the fox and hounds
well away, so we don't much care about them. Of com-se they will cram, push, and
jostle as usual, swear that the master is always slii^ping away without them because he
is so confoimdedly jealous, and should they reach him at the first clieck, override his
hoimds as much as possible afterwards. Let us hope, however, that they may get close
enough to see the fun, without doing mischief, and as the last bit of pink fades fi-om our
view in the far distance, leave them to piu'sue the chase, with what success they may.
But hold ; there is fun yet to be seen, as a stout fussy man comes up at a tearing gallop.
" Hollo, you there, with the axe, where are the hounds ?" " Lord bless ze, sm-, they be
gone away these three minutes, right over the hill yon." " Confound it, just like my
luck, if I had been here, the fox would have hung about for an horn-. Where do
you think he's gone to? " " Why, 1 dunno, but I see little Will slip away down the lanes,
for Crabtree Wood, and he's mostly right like." And away goes om- fat friend, down
the lanes for Crabtree Wood, which he reaches just as the pack have run into theu' fox,
within a quarter of a mile of it, after a brilliant forty-five minutes.

FULL CRY.

" If your horse be vroll bred and in condition,
Botli up to tlie country and up to your weigbt,
Oh I then give the reins to your youthful ambition,
Sit down in the saddle, and keep his head straight."

QUITE right, Mr. Warburton, no man can do better than tliat ; and a great many, we
arc sorry to say, do a great deal worse. If all the grnmblers and growlers in the world
woidd take the old sqiiirc's advice, it would mend both their manners and their tempers.
Ko one can be in an ill-hnmour alter a brilliant tifty minutes, especially when he
feels that both he and his horse have acquitted themselves creditably. Even that
little bill with which Ruffles persistently calls once a week, notwithstanding repeated
assurances that you are travelling on the Continent, is then forgotten. And you quite
lose sight of the idea that your mother-in-law, with a pug dog, two monkeys, and a
paiTot, has promised to come and pass a month with you, and will most likely put in an
appearance when you have about half done dinner that very evening. Banks may stop
payment in the Citv, but so long as they prove sound in tlie country, and don't let you
into the second ditch, you heed it not ; and railway shares may fall to any extent so that
your favourite Locomotive only keeps on his legs and going Talk about Christian charity,
when is it called forth to the same extent as during a "quick thing?" Why, there is the
man on the white-faced chestnut going a cracker, who has forgotten the five ponies to
one he laid you against Blue Gown for the last Perby, yet to save your life you would
not remind him of it now. A man who has such a "steady seat, light-bridle hand, and
takes what providence sends him in such a cool way, must have good stuff in hun ; and.
for the time at least, vou make up your mind to repudiate the debt altogether. Look
at the farmer in grceu, bundling along his short-tailed gray ; what does he care though
corn did foil five shillings a quarter last market-day, and that there is no chance of a repeal
of the malt-tax ? " Come along, you can't do any harm," says he, as he jumps first into
his own wheat ; and not the slightest idea of the carpenter's bill enters his head as he
sees you, Hopeful, knock a new gate into "smithereens," and come a most royal crowner on
the other side. He would do anything now for you save stop, and take it as a decided
favour if you pulled on one side to let him break a strong rail. Should you indiscreetly,
dm-ing a slight check, ask after the welfare of his lambs, he will tell you that the puppy
he gained the cup with, is by Eegulus out of Novelty, and ran right to head for the first
twenty minutes, and that though Scarlet, the huntsman, went strong for neighbour
Jackson's, his own won easily, and was not only straighter, with better feet, but cleaner
about the neck and shoulders. How cheerily the old squire speaks to him, though they
have had a little difference concerning the way-rate, " Capital thing. Turnips," says he,
wiping his head and face ; " rather too quick for us old ones, though. Ah, by-the-b)-e,
bring your gun up to the Hall to-morrow. Barnes says the rabbits are getting strong
in Beechwood, so we must kill them down, and I have told Gripein he should hear
what you have to say about the new barn. I think we must put you one up."

There is onlv one uuhappv man in the field, and that is Colchicum, the brewer,
who rides as jealoiislv as the fiend, and finds his new three-hundred-guinea gray, which has

twice been on his head, fast compounding. But then if ho will send a horse alon
for twenty minutes, without the semblance of a pull, and with only dealer's condition
in him, what can he expect ?

How differently Captain Slasher takes things. Ilis own stud are all screwed, so he
is on a hired nap;, and notwithstanding he rushed at the big timber fence and gave him
a regular nasty one, he is going on smiling, and patting his horse's neck, is nm-siug him up
a firm headland, until he recovers his wind, and is determined, by patience, judgment, and
fine riding, to make up for the deficiency of his mount, and, let the country be what it will,
to see the end. He is not a man to make this determination without acting up to it, and
though he may get another fall, \erj likely two, you may lay long odds on his being one
of the half-dozen at the finish. More than that, he can tell you why the fox ran that
particular line (the stiflfest in the hunt) instead of the usual one over the downs, and away
for the main earths — how it was they never checked over the wet cold plough, and the
reason that Green's horse refused the brook, and Tomkins's broke his back at the stake
and bound. And then, when it is all over, you will hear him talk a great deal about the
performances of his friends and their horses, but never a word about his own, though, on a
screw not worth twenty pounds, and in spite of a bad fall to start with, he was in front
fi-om start to finish.

But then Slasher is a sportsman who rides to hunt, and does not hunt to ride. ^\.nd
it is not every trifle that puts him out of his way. It is almost foi'gotten now, but he
is the man that steered in Confidence for the Grand Military twenty years ago without a
bridle, and with a broken collar bone ! We have not said much about the hounds ?
Well no, they have kept so straight and gone so fast that it has been rather difficult matter
to see much of them. In fact they had nothing to do but race. That all lioimds,
if they have breeding and condition, can do, and with such a scent they can't make any
mistake. Should they come to cold hunting, picking it out throiigh sheep and cattle-
stains, down roads, and amongst houses and farmsteads, we will leave the men to smoke
and chat, and turn our attention to the pack. Let it not for a moment be supposed we
overlook them ; nothing would give us so much pleasiU'C as to see Livelj' whose dam and
grandam we walked, make a good hit ; and have we not always sworn by the board of
cm- father, that a fox may run the roads as long as ho liked so that old Matchless was
amongst the pack, and the field ^^'ould only give her room to pick it out ? Was it not
the old bitch that feathered for a mile down Cold Harbour Lane, without daring to speak
to it, and then carrying the line through into a grass field, gave us the brilliant quarter of
an horn-, and a kill in the open to finish with ? No ; we by no means overlook the hounds,
and could tell how we waited hours on a cold, a bitter cold, December night and took our
turn manfully with pick and shovel, to see old Pilot, the beloved of our youth, and thi-ee
others got out of a drain into which they had forced themselves after their fox. And
how tenderly we carried them home, and nursed them, when, exhausted and all but
drowned, they were at last recovered. Is not each deed, good and bad, of our (for want of
a better word, shall we say) native pack chronicled in memory ? And do we not know how
Eiotus, who suffered nothing to lead her in chase, would often not try a yard with a bad
scent, and how her descendants, even to the tenth generation, would run hare rather
than ch-aw for a fox. But then, as old Dick said, " if she won't find a fox she's worth a
pack when he's sinking, and never tired in her life. 'No, no, sii" ; she's a very wild one,
and at times would rather play than work, but you know how she helps me when an
afternoon fox is running short afore 'em. Yes, I must have something from her." And
he did.

CEOSSING THE LINE.

MANY years ago, wheu our entire himtiiig establislament consisted of a rocking-
horse, a penny trumpet, and a whip, with which, whenever the notion seized us that
it ought to be a himting-day, we contrived to render the house generally noisy and
uncomfortable, it was prophesied that railroads must soon put a stop to fox-hunting
in I^nglaud. In fact, so dii'e was the animosity of those to whom the care of our j'outh
was entrusted, that we, imbibing their ideas, regarded the ii'on horse as nothing less
than diabolical, and the chosen iusti'ument that, Mahomet-like, was to sweep all oiu*
most cherished institutions and country piu'suits fi-om the face of the earth. Little did
we then think what a faithful slave we were reviling, and how this hissing and puffing
monster was to be the good genius to inti'oduce us to such happj' hunting-grounds as
even Chingagook or Le C'erf Agile never contemplated.

Wc sinned, and — we are repentant ; but when we fell, like Adam it was in the
best of company, for a writer to whose pages we are indebted for no little of om*
knowledge concerning the chase, who was one of the first to put sound sporting
experience into a readable form, and who had the rare combination (in that day) of
being both a scholar and a sportsman, entertained the same views. We have no
doubt, like others, he has seen his errors, and not found "the line" such an iusiu--
moiuitable barrier to sport as was at first anticipated. In fact, are not its
di'awbacks more than compensated by the facilities it aflbrds both men and horses for
reaching any part that may be deemed desii-able ? In the good old days, where a man's
house was, there was his hunting, unless at great expense he chose to transport himself
and horses by road into more genial localities. This, of course, was constantly done by
men with long purses, but where there was one M'ho could thus indulge his taste for
sport, there were fifty who could not. But thanks to om- whilom foe, we now one day
meet a man -with the Queen's or Mr. Garth's, and then straightway shake him by the
hand at Crick Gorse or Six Ilills. Or we may part from a friend amid the sloughs of
Lower Woods, and then within a day or two see him negotiating the wide cb-ains of
'Holderness. Perhaps real sport may in some instances suffer from the crowds that are
enabled to reach a favourite fixture, but, per contra, as the merchants sa}^, hunting is no
longer confined to one class or section of the eommunitj-. In fact, it matters little where
a man is, if he has time and money he can hunt, and a few hours from his warehouse or
office in the city will give him a pleasure denied to his less fortunate predecessors.
It is no small advantage to a man with a moderate stud to be able to locate himself in a
town, and by means of the rail reach almost daily any pack he may select from
half-a-dozen or more. These facilities will doubtless also be increased, and the same
privilege be extended to other countries, that now pre^"ails in Yorkshire, of taking one's
horse and self out and home at a cheap rate, for hunting pm-poses. And few will deny
that a first-class carriage is a more comfortable conveyance, even for a short journey,
than a tired horse, who, when fresh, may not be a very pleasant hackney.

"Wc have looked at the facilities afforded to hunting men by railways ; let us now
see what arc the drawbacks to be encouutered. All will uudoiibtedly agree that the
danger to hounds is the chief one. At times this is very great, especially as the
railroad is not "of a natiu'c to hold a high sceut, and induce hounds to cross it quickly.
But when we consider how general railroads are at the present time, and the number of
hoimds out every day dm-ing the season, it is obvioiis that the danger lies more in
imagination than reality. Of course hounds are killed, but not nearly so often as wc
may suppose they would be, and instances are by no means rare of trains passing ttrough
the pack without injuring a single one.

Tliis happened a few years ago to the Tedworth, near Aniport, and on the very
line which Assheton Smith took so much trouble to oppose from an idea it would
injure his country and sport. The whole pack checked on the railway when
an express came along. Fricker, Colonel Carlton, ourselves, and several others
galloped up, quite expecting to see a large portion of them cut to pieces, but
strange to relate not a hound was touched. Generally speaking, hounds can be stopped
when there is danger of a passing train, and this was done on the Tuesday before the late
lamentable accident to Sir C. Slingsby and others in the York and Ainsty country. On
that occasion with the second fox, the railroad proved a real boon in the then deep state of
the country, as by getting on its firm siu-face a few of the field were enabled to reach the
hoimds, who could never have done so but for its aid. In fact, it was generally believed
that but for this the fox would have been run into and eaten ere any one could get to the
hounds. Several times, especially with deer hounds, has it been our lot to use the
railroad as a horse track, and once in the south of England the deer ran a considerable
distance before the train ; the driver, however, gave him every chance, by slackening
sjieed as miich as he possibly could. If we are not mistaken, it is only aboiit three
years ago that the lioyal Buckhounds brought a deer right into Paddington station,
after a A'cry hard and severe run. And the same pack are often glad to have recoui'se
to the aid of steam to convey hounds, horses, and men to the Ascot kennels.

Foxes, as a rule, fortunately very seldom run any distance on railwaj's, but merely
cross them, and thus the danger is in a great degree lessened ; but deer, unless
turned on one side, will run for miles on them, and it is extraordinary that hounds do
not meet with more accidents from trains when piu'suing them. From the cuttings and
embankments they form a nasty obstacle to cross, and not un&'cquentlj^, as is represented
in our engraving, the fences have to be pulled down ere a passage can be effected. This
we saw occur no less than three or four times during one day with the Badsworth, when
the fox, contrary to the usual habit, kept threading the line, while every gate at the
crossings Avas locked. Taken on the M'hole, however, wc must consider railwaj's as great
a boon to hunting men as they have proved to the rest of the community ; and very few,
wc fancy, would sacrifice the convenience for the trifling annoyance they cause. By their
aid distant coimtrics can be explored and packs seen that formerly were tabooed to the
man of moderate means, and for no very great expense a man may now hunt from tlic
Land's End to John o' Groat's during the same season. A fiiend of ours who took Ids
stud into Devon and Dorsetshii-e to finish the present season, and was there a fortnight,
withoTit seeing a fox found, maj- perhaps differ fi-om tlicse views, and thiiik that he would
have been better at home, where foxes were plenty, if the country was none of tlie
best. But this is an exceptional case, and a man may never meet with such another
instance of ill-luck dm-ing a life-time. At any rate, for the best of all cover hacks
commend us to the Iron Horse.

THE DEATH.

WE have pretty ■svcll rim througli our hunting scenes, and now conae to one that all are
anxious to witness ; when the fox, tu'cd, jaded, and worn-out, turns for one desperate
struggle with his pursuers, a struggle which, with fearful odds against him, he
gallantly sustains to the last, and then dies without a sound of pain escaping him. His
race is run ; his mission fulfilled ; and yet when he is held aloft over the heads of the
expectant pack, his is no ignoble fate. He is not destined, like an ox or sheep, to be
eaten and forgotten ; for he has proved himself worthy of houoiir, and for a
season or two has given the pack a rattler, whenever he was found, and at last, after
scattering the field to the winds, has succumbed to his fate. Many a fireside story will be
related of the sport he afforded, and his memorj^ live green in the recollection of hunting
men for ages to come. Perhaps his history will be written or his honours sung by a
Tyrta^us of the field. How different a fate had his lot been east in some game-pre-
serving locality, where, after ch-aggiug out miserable hours with his leg in a traj), some
velveteen-coated keeper would have knocked him on the head, and left his carcass to rot
away under ground. Or, may be, when taking his favoiu-ite rabbit supper, he would
have found that the same kind-hearted individual has cbessed it for him, and that death
by strychnine, with all its horrors, was in store.

Even these perils escaped, there are others scarcely less fearful that await an individual
of the vulpine race, and what will be his lot if taken, when the fox-stealer, with dog, net,
and beUs, sets out on his nefarious excursion, is easily conceived. Torn from liis snug
earth and greenwood home, thrust into a stifling sack, and carried to the neighbouring
tovm, kept in a corn-bin or some worse place, until a fox-murdering keeper thinks
he may allow his master's coverts to be di-awn, and wants a commercial gentleman to
save his credit and secure his tip for a find ; then turned out confused and bewildered in a
strange place, knowing not where to fly for shelter, or in what direction to urge his flight
— how cruel is his lot ! Death at length overtakes him, and he is ignominously tlu-o^vn on

one side as a d bagman, because the pack refuse to break him up. Should this be

spared him, he may fare j'et worse, in having to afford amusement to a lot of tinpot
sportsmen, with a scratch pack of rough-and-ready dogs, open to hunt anything and
everything, and with no great respect for constituted rights and their neighboxu-s'
property. Xo, as the death-stroke can come to the soldier in no grander form than from
his foe in battle ; so the true end of a fox is to be run well into and rolled over in the
open. Then, as we have before said, if he has been well found, well hunted, and
handsomely killed, his fame will be handed down to posterity, and his prowess recorded
in song. All this time, howcA'cr, we have been treating of only one actor in the piece,
though he certainly can lay claim to " a leading part : " but both the huutsmau
and the hovmds may fairly be supposed to find some exultation in their victory. For
this the former has been trained from boyhood, in the science of woodcraft,
untU his knowledge of the fox's natiu-o and habits is such that he seems to
know his line by instinct directly he is found, and when even the delicate noses

of the pack fail, his juilgmcut cau set them right. A case of this sort occurred
during the present season. A well-known pack of hounds found an old travelling
fox, who took them out of their own coimtrj', and across cold scenting, barren
hills, into one totally strange to their master and himtsraan. The scent, bad throughoiit,
here absolutely failed, yet over a country quite strange to him, from his knowledge of
woodcraft, he was enabled to hold them on the line when they could scarcely speak to it at
all, and that only on the grass lands, and by this means, after a good hunting run, kill his
fox. For this hounds have been carefully bred for generations, each fault noted, and as
far as possible corrected, each excellence cultivated and improved, until they can cope
for speed with the racehorse and greyhound, and hunt as low a scent as the most jDains-
taking harrier or beagle. And the end and consummation of all this trouble and
expense is the death ; that is the crowning moment that repays master and huntsman
for their toils. Some may take exception to our assertion that the foxhound of
the present day can hunt as low a scent as a beagle, and even go so far as to say that
some packs will scarcely hunt any scent at all. Eut we maintain that when such is the
case the fault lies in the animal's management and ediication, not in its nature. There
is the blood that has made the kennels of Badminton, Belvoir, and Broklesby famous, still
flowing piu'e as ever ; and where hounds are educated to depend on their noses and
hunt, they will still do so. If, on the contrary, they have been taught from
the time of entry to gallop after their huntsman, while he gallops after
the fox, they are not to blame. The opportunity of using their natural powers
and instinct is not allowed them, and consequently those powers are not dis-
played. But we are rather skirting from our subject, and must once more
get back to the line. Though the engravings presented to our readers are so good that
they may well be left to depend on their own merits, we must refer to the last of our
hunting series, inasmuch as it so well carries out our ideas of a good finish. There in
the open, with no covert near, is the death scene taking place ; and of the field who
perhaps an hour preA'iously saw that fox found, how many arc there to witness it ? Where
are the rest ? Coming, we will hope, but from the appearance of those which are up, the
great chance is that they are being lifted olf gates and dug out of ditches. The himts-
mau's old gray, game as he looks, is done to a tru-n, and had the run lasted much longer
the pack would have had the obsequies all to themselves. The tall man with moustaches
evidently thinks this coarse-quartered, white-legged, big one, who by the way must be
better than he looks, is for the present to be trusted without holding. The white-faced
one behind them is fresher, but he evidently has more breeding than the others, and that
will tell in a quick thing as well as in a long one, and the blood-horse, after standing a
few moments, will breathe as calmly as though just out of his stable. But the whoo-whoop
is sounded, in another moment the fox will be thrown to the expectaut pack, and those
present, like ourselves, will turn theu- backs on " The Death."

LOED POULETT.

"WHEX steeplechasing first became one of the reco,gnised sports of England under
its present form, some forty years ago, no amusement had more aristocratic patrons
and supporters. At least half the names of those who took silk on any great occasion
could bo foimd in Debrett or liurke, and though not many, perhaps, stuck to it with the
pertinacity of Osbaldiston and Captain Beecher, there were few young men of rank,
with any pretensions to horsemansliip, who did not at one time or another take a turn
across counti-y. Thus we see Lord Waterford, on The Sea and Cock Eobin, was succeeded
by Lord Strathmore on St. Leger and The Switcher. And ere the era of the buff and
blue had set in. The Xun bore the colours of Lord Macdonald to victory, with Jerry
and Warwick behind her in those of Lord Suffield and Sir E. Mostyn. Then Capts.
Peel and Little on Chandler and Proceed respectively, with Powell on Saladin, kept up the
prestige of the sport imtil the many questionable practices it gave rise to induced
men of honour to withcU-aw themselves from it, and steeplechasing for public stakes
fell in a great measiu'c into the hands of horse-dealers, trainers, and others, whose
only object was " to get money, honestly if you can, but anyhow to get money ;'' and
the sport came to be looked upon, in common with the ring and others whose day was
fast waning, as one that must die out by the malpractices of its supporters. True, there
was still the hunting and militarj^ element to fall back ujion, and each held meetings at
which gentlemen could ride and run horses, and did so ; and from this parent stem the
■ flower of steeplechasing may again be said to have flom-ished. Then came the for-
mation of the National Hunt Committee, the raising of the weights in handicaps, and
the era of the cast-off flat-racer was wonderfuUj' curtailed. Cxentlemen again feared
not to see then- eolom-s on a cross-country flj'er, and when Game Chicken ran second
to Cooksboro, and eventually got the stakes, in the shires the line was as big and the
fences as strong as the greatest glutton could desire. And such a field faced the starter
as recalled the St. Albans days of old. The year before that Lord Coventry had stood
in the breach with the wonderful weed Emblem at Aintree, and the next vear we
find no want of the aristocratic element, as Mr. Chaplin sent forth the all-rose
flag successfully on Emperor the Second, for the National Hunt, and Emblematic
rivalled her sister's performance at Liverpool ; so with the decline of the light-weight
era we may be said to have got both better men and better horses into the sport, and
since that time it has lacked not supporters of the right stamp. Under these cii'cum-
stances it has been a matter of no small difficulty to determine with what patron of the
sport we should head our steeplechase sketches, and we can but admit that there are
several equally deserA'ing the post of honom-, but we are induced to select Lord Poiilett
as the latest aristocratic recipient of the Grand National honours. When his lordship
came into the title in 1864, he lost little time in getting together some racers and
steeplechasers, though all along his heart has, we fancy, inclined more to cross-coimtry
events than the Rowley Mile or T.Y.C., and Chris. Green at Newmarket soon had
some promising pupils in hand. It was, however, after the Waterloo era had com-
menced that we find his lordship really going to the front in steeplechase matters, and
with the advent of the veteran Ben Land (who, by the way, rode and won the first
hurdle race we ever saw, on his own horse, Frank — late Eailroad — at the now defunct

Twyford Meeting on Haselcy Do'mi), as ti'ainer, and when Mr. Edwards donned the
cerise and bine, that Eenazet, Charlemagne, and others became names of dread in the
South Coimtrie. And though C'ortolvin, a future Grand Xational winner, had been
parted Avith to the Duke of Hamilton, the first of the trio named proved himself one of the
best in England over his own distance (two miles), and showed that the Dutchman's stock
could jump as well as race. Genevre, another French importation, did not, however, do
much for the stable fame, and it remained for the Irish half-bred, The Lamb, to set the
seal to their fortunes by winning the Grand National of 18G8 from the celebrated Pearl
Diver, who has since proved how good the form m^ist be. Lord Poulett is as well
known in the hunting-field as on the course, and for some few years he handled tho
horn himself, which he only relinquished at the end of the season of 1867-8, and with the
neat little bitches made the foxes fly over the rough, stiff Durly and Wickham country,
where the brooks and ditches want no end of doing, or over the hills by Old Winchester
and Westbury. As a coachman also he is well known, and the neat blood-like browns
are invariably to be seen trotting gaily on to all southern racecourses, where they form
a strong contrast to the stately grays from CIranbury Park, Avhich are quite as regular
in attendance. His lordship (when ho took the Hamblcdon Iloinids) built new kennels at
Waterloo with every convenience, and removed the pack which had formerly stood at
Droxford to them, so that they should be immediately under liis o^vn eye. For his
steeplechase horses he also laid out one or two courses, with every description of fence ;
so that, let him and his aide-de-camps decide on sending them into what country they
might, they had tlie means at home of qualifying them for the contest. With regard to
the Ilamblcdon Hunt Meeting, under his fostering care it has sprung from a mere plating
concern into a meeting of some consideration and importance, where really good horses
are sent to contend for the stakes ; and we have seen such cracks as Benazet, Shakesj^eare,
and Ace of Trumps forming up to face Lord Poulett, who always acts as starter himself.
As a holiday for the neighbourhood it has no rival, and all Gosport, Portsmouth, and
Portsea turns out on the occasion ; so that the road over Portsdown Hill almost reminds
one of getting on to the Downs at Epsom, or perhaps a better simile would be the
journey to Landsdowne from Bath. Besides this, he also two years ago got up botli
stcei^lechases in the spring and races in the summer at Hayling Island but though both
meetings passed oft' very well, the course was a wretchedly bad one, and after the first
year no attempt was made to revive them. As regards tho steeplcchasmg, the countr}-
Avas beastly in the extreme, and the racecourse had only the recommendation of being
close to the sea, for worse galloping ground could hardly have been found, so their
abandonment was altogether a wise one ; and sticking to his old love, the pretty little
Waterloo course will no doubt now receive the benefit of his lordship's undivided atten-
tion. Besides being an owner of racehorses and steeplechasers, and a rider to hounds.
Lord Pordett has also ridden successfully on the flat, and won the Tally-ho Stakes at the
Liverpool Hunt Club Paces on his own horse, Venator, by Gemma di Yergj-, 1867^ — a
1)011(1 Jide hunter, by the wa}-, and one that had been doing duty all the winter in tho
Hambledon establishment. We hear that, like the Duke of Hamilton, he now intends
training some steeplechasers in France, and altogether we must look on him as one of
our most enthusiastic patrons of the sport.

STEEPLE-CHASING.— The Start.

THOUGH the start for a great cross-country event has been given as one of our illustra-
tions, in reality here getting ■well off is not nearly of so much consequence as on the flat,
and a length or two lost in getting away is generally equalised by the falls and refusals
that occur in the course of most spins across coimtry. To get well off is an advantage,
all must admit, but over a steeplechase course taking the lead and keeping it are quite
separate affairs, and though the man on a good-tempered, kind fencer may do well to keep
clear of the ruck, with an uncertain one or a horse that refuses, it will often prove wisdom
to wait and let something give him a lead, when all bxit the most determined brutes will
follow. The crowd and bustle of a lot of horses will also often cheer u^ and excite a
faint-hearted one, so that he may be induced to take fences in companj^ that singly he
would certainly reftise. False starts even in steeplechasrng will occur, but there can be no
necessity for them, and nothing is more ridicidous than when four miles and even more of
deep country have to be traversed, to see men stop their horses because another may have
gained a length or two of them in getting away. With a lot of quick ones around
him, and only half a mile ere the post is reached, we can quite understand how a jockey
may be anxious to get off in fi'ont, as a chance lost then is scarcely to be regained, and
unless the leaders are ridden to a standstill, and " come back,'' there is little chance of
making up lost ground. But in the steeplechase it is altogether different, and a good
selection of groimd and making use of a horse at the right moment are of far more
importance than a length or two to begin with. Xevertheless, a start of some kind there
must be, and even when Jim Hills and Mr. H — rode then- match over the A'ale of Wliite
Horse, and after the word " go " was given, quietly sat and arranged who should have a
shy at the first fence, there was some one to give them " the office." Under these cir-
cumstances, the drawing, though it would have been more appropriate amongst oiu* racing
sketches, is certainly not out of place in the delineation of cross-country sports ; and
when a scorc-and-a-half of Grand National competitors come together to face the flag
their positions are as eagerly scanned as the dismissal of a lot from the Derby post.
Many a heart has beat anxiously as its owner has drawn his horse in line behind the
starter, and surveyed the white flags that pointed out the country to be traversed,
and many a one has ere now cursed the moment in which he imdertook a task for M'hich
he had neither pluck nor skill. But if there are a few who find themselves out of place
when the moment of trial comes, there are also those good men and true to whom a stiff
coimtry causes no more uneasiness than a ride in the Kow.

See Mr. Echvards, bow qiiictlj' he liaudles The Lamb or Bonazet when prejiaring for
the ■word : or watch Mr. Yates taking Bristles or Playman to the jjost, and you woukl
suppose that he was starting for a quiet canter. But on the other hand, notice either one
or the other on a rum one, and you will see them sit down and let their nags f<:cl that
they are not to be trifled with, and no shifting will get tliem out of the contemplated
journey ; or let us take the other side of the question, and flmcy George Stevens or
Johnny Page getting an imwilling one to face his horses, and wo have some idea of
what a determined horseman can accomplish.

Sorry are we to say it, but this picture has a reverse, and perhaps more bad horse-
manship is to be seen in connection with steeplechasing than anj^wherc else. This
especially occurs in Ilunt, Military, and Farmers' races, and when men who may be
fairly good riders to hounds attempt the totally difierent task of riding races across
country. We are far from including all who ride in these races in this assertion,
as Mr. Goodman, Capt. Coventry, Capt. Harford, Colonel Knox, "the Walkers,"
" the Wilsons," and many others, who can hold their own anywhere and every-
where, are to be seen sporting silk for them. But these riders stand out in promuieut
relief from the bulk of competitors, for the host of incapables we have seen per-
form at local meetings have been often so ridiculous in their efforts as to become a
perfect biudesque of the sport. It will perhaps hardly be credited that this very spring
we saw two men start in a match, neither of whom could get their horses out of the
starting field, while not a few have negotiated the first obstacle on their own account and
left their horses behind them. Many years ago, in a military race at Guillane, the fii'st
obstacle was a wall, at which a clever old brown horse stopped 'short, and deposited his
rider safely on the other side. With real game, howcA^er, he stuck to the bridle,
reerossed the wall, and, in spite of another regular cropper, won the race, though so
covered was he with blood that his colours were barely distinguishable when he weighed
in. But the flag is down, the team in then stride to a tolerably even start, and though
the captain on the hard-puller has got a little the best of it, and the short-tailed one
with Lord Zetland's coloiu's up (who, by the way, never patronises steeplechases,) is not
quite so quick on his legs as the better bred ones, we may faiidy conclude that they will
all get on terms with the leader ere the first fence is reached ; and wishing them a safe
journey and a quick one to the winning chaii', with the fall of the starter's flag we may
dismiss them from the scene.

i

THE FIEST FENCE.

IX our last wc dispatched the competitors on theii- adventurous journey across
country; in the present avo find tlieni at the fii-st obstacle to be encountered, and in
contradiction to many coiu'ses in the present day,where an casj' hurdle forms the prelude
to fences all but as easy, unless appearances go for nought, there is really something to
be got over. With hounds even the first fence tells, and whether it is bungled or
negotiated in workmanlike manner makes all the difference to the position that is to be
afterwards maintained. If this is the case when the line pursued is uncertain, and a
lucky nick or check may again place the unfortunate one in the front, how disastrous
must be the effect of a baulk or fall in a steeplechase when the competitors have a cer-
tain line to traverse, and go at a pace that would have astonished many a Queen's Plater
oi a century ago. Even in the early days of steeplechasing a man had a better chance
to recover lost ground, and when they ran from point to point, a Icnowledge of country
and the nature of fences would come to his aid, so by taking a better line, avoiding
ploughs and so forth, an early mistake might perchance be rectified. But now with
courses that a horse can gallop over, and flags which all must pass between, a hundred
yards lost, unless all the leaders come to grief, takes a deal of recovering, and the first
fence, even though the obstacle be slight in itself, may be of great importance, as the
means of establisliing confidence between man and horse. "Wlien steeplechasing first
became fashionable, none thought of entering anything but made hunters, and the
Elmores, who were perhaps more successful than any others, after the sport had developed
itself beyond private matches and sweepstakes between gentlemen, had, unless I have
been misinformed, theii- horses regularly trained in a ring with good stiff fences, where
a man could stand in the centre, and lounge them round, without incurring the risk of
hurting theii' legs by weight on the back, or endangering the neck of a rider. Of course
all horsemen will understand that only the preliminaries could be acquired in this way ;
for nothing but fine handling and determined riding can render a horse fit to take his
place amongst good company over a real steeplechase coiu-se. Xevertheless the plan is
by no means to be despised, and within the last year or two I have seen a place fitted up
at Oxford — by a gentleman to whom Alma Mater had imparted something more than a
taste for the classics — on exactly the same principle, and which he had found
did yeoman's ser-\-ice with various young thoroughbreds that came into his hands.
He, at any rate, has had a fair share of success, and the system, so far as the
A B CI of fencing is concerned, cannot be bad. With hunters we know from
experience that it works well, and, after all, the difference is only in the pace
at which you ride at the fence ; once let the horse know that it must be
cleared, or a fall is the certain result, and you may then teach him to take it at
whatever pace you like. Except in a few hands, we fancy in the present day all know-
ledge of fencing is considered quite superfluous in steeplechase hoi'scs. Thus we see animals
that have been figiu'ing in flat races all the summer brought to the post in the autumn,
and set going across country, with but little regard to their own limbs or riders' necks.
Moreover, to favour this style of doing things fences arc generallj- cut down, so that they
can literally be galloped over, and if a man will only follow the example of Captain
Beecher in the first hurdle-race ever run (wliich came off under Tommy Coleman's
auspices at Xo Man's Land), and get his nag between two others so that he finds the
fence the easiest way out, and put on steam enough, he is pretty well sure to get over.

Times have so far changed that matches over the Beacon or Roimcl course are gone
out of date, and four mile heats would subject the starter and clerk of the course to a little
attention from the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals ; yet we see the
very horses which in all probability would have been engaged in these matches rattling
theii' four miles across ridge and fiuTow, and then coming in at a pace which would have
set the old school of Newmarket sportsmen at defiance, and fi-ustrated all attempts at
betting across the jockeys. Indeed in a modern steeplechase, Mr. Clark would have
small chance of placing "a tall gentleman in a white mackintosh first." But we must
plead guilty to wandering from our subject, and, so far from confining our attention to
the first fence, fear we have strayed in dangerous proximity (due regard being had to
the work before us) to the winning-post, and, like Tom Coleman before mentioned, have
so managed our line that m'c can in a single spin both act as starter and judge. Such,
hoAvever, at present is far from our intention, and we must crave pardon if having so
far let our subject run away with us, we have overstepped the bounds of good jockeyship
and attempted to make running c^'cu while the fii'st fence had to be encountered. Lend
us then your eye, kind reader (if with yoiu' glasses, so much the better), for a moment, and
we will watch the field as, going well together, they rattle wp to the first feuce. Sec them
now that each horse is fresh and full of go, and each rider has for this event, at least,
screwed his coiu'age to the sticking point, and hardened his heart for the encounter ;
what pleasure then

" To sec the saucy banier, and know
The mettle that can clear it 1 Then your time
To prove you master of the menage. Now
You keep him well together for a space,
Both horse and rider braced, as you were one,
Scanning the distance. Then you give him rein,
And let him fly," &c., &c.

The above description completely realizes oiir own idea of the way horses should be
taken to their fences, and in poetry bears out the maxim Dick Christian enunciated in
more homely form : — " I always get my horse on his hind legs Avhen coming to a fence,
and then am over and away before the rushers." First fences are not however always
to be taken in the style Mr. Herring has depicted, and we have only to turu to the
description of the last Grand Kational at Liverpool to see what confusion and dismay a
single refusal can create in a large field of horses. In fact, it scarcely ever does so much
mischief as at fii'st, for then horses are naturally more clustered and have less room to
avoid each other than later on, when not only has the pace told out a great manj-, but falls
and refusals have weeded the field. Osbaldeston, who when steeplechasing was in its
infancy proved himself as much " master of the mhiage " in it as in the hunting field or
behind the ditch at liewmarket, had a great idea of something that would thin the field,
and " let us have a good bullfinch to begin with, that I may shake tliis fellow off'," was
his request when about to ride Grimaldi in the match against Seff'ert and j\Ioonraker.
But the notions of the copper-bottomed sqiiii-e are not so much in vogue now, and hurdles
with gorso on the top are generally considered a sufficient barrier, and in fact oftencr
than not do duty for fences throughout the whole of the course. The line of real
hunting country is changed for the vicinity of a race-course, where the running can be
watched fi-om the stand, and the old Leicestershire battle-ground from Shankton Holt to
the Ram's Head Cover, over which the Marquis rode in so many tough encounters, has
been guiltless of flag-poles for years, railing and roping have taken the place of the
stern determination to win at any price that characterised the heroes of old, and instead
of an even fifty that was always stood between two well-known amateurs as to
which was first past the post, horses are worked for a season or two, until the weight and
the money are right, and a fortune can be realized on a single race, when they are
slipped.

C03IE TO GEIEF

THERE is no mistake about it, the artist here presents ns with a decided case of grief,
and seldom have we seen a place likelier to produce siich a calamity than the one selected.
In fact, it is such a rasper as seldom ornaments or disfigures (call it which you like)
a line, and has a decided Gahvay look about it, a place where they do, or at any rate did
like to see theii- friends and horses negotiate obstacles that were worth doing. Our
neighbours on the Continent also go in more for this style of thing than ourselves,
biit then it must be remembered that except in a few, a very few instances, they do
not ride themselves ; and as to killing an Englishman, whj- they are used to it, or at
least to falling about, and rather like it than otherwise, so it's no matter. There is
always an inclination to see others encounter danger with a sort of inward satisfaction ;
and the Cockney who, when he had seen a man or two killed at the same fence in a
steeplechase, and others borne away bleeding and with broken limbs, was heard to thank
Providence for having placed him where so much fun occurred, was not pei'hajDS such
an exceptional individual as we should like to believe. Thi'ee do'wn out of four is not bad
work, and the present scene would have been A-ery much to his taste. It is a question
whether he would have derived so much gratification fi-om the gallant way in which the
gray is doing his work, as from seeing his less fortunate companions grassed, and really
the horse in the left-hand corner appears to have chance enough of committing homicide
to satisiH- the cra-s-ings of the most sanguinary. Fortimately, however, though we do
read of horses with broken backs, and men being killed, fatal accidents are not nearly so
numerous as might be anticipated, and a man may encounter a great amount of gi'ief
without being much the worse for it, if, like Assheton Smith, he only knows how to fall.
Capt. Shakespeare says : — " After upwards of twenty-seven years of service ; after having,
on thi'oe separate occasions, had bones broken in hunting, twice from horses falling and
rolKng over ; having been wounded by a wild boar ; wounded by a panther ; and agam
woimded in action, the author of these pages is still in good health, and capable of
riding a himdred miles in the day." From tliis it will be seen that a man may stand a
deal of knocking about without being much the worse, and indeed no better proof of
this could be brought forward than the gi'cen old age of the before-mentioned Mr. Smith
who rode well to hounds after he was eighty years of age, and had fallen into every
field in Leicestershire. Fatal accidents, for the most part, do not happen at the raspers,
biit generally at some little trumpery obstacle that a donkey could surmount. Thus,
not more than twelve months ago we saw a poor fellow roll with his horse over a
common sheep hurdle, who was carried senseless away, only to live for a few
hours. Thank goodness, these occmTences arc rare, and would be rarer still but for the
untrained, bad-tempered brutes that many men think good enough to risk the lives of
their fellow-creatm-es on in a steeplechase ; horses which they dare not mount
themselves for the world, and yet will put iinder another to run all the risks of a race
across country. These are the animals that come to giief and kill people, while horses
thoroughlj' up to their business will run chase after chase without making a mistake,
and hardly get a fall in a season. To see this we need only point to the stables of
Lords Poulett and Coventiy, or observe how Mr. Yates's nags run on \seek after week and
keep their legs. Another reason for this is their being turned out always in condition

fit to contest a race, and not weak and below the mark, as is the case with a gi-eat many
that come to the post. This, we believe, to be as finiitful a source of falls as anj-thing,
for no horse cap jump when exhausted, and the smallest fences -will throw him down
when in that state.

All horses, of course, make a mistake sometimes, as even Pearl Diver, who, his
friends said, " did not know how to fall," gave them the lie at the ''table jump," in last
year's Grand National; but they put you down in a difi'erent style to the weak and incapable
ones, and at least allow the opportunity of getting out of their way, which the others
often do not. Luckily, even grief has its ludicrous as well as its serious side. We
remember a young man who, emerging from a brook into which he had plunged head
foremost, caused great amusement by ejecting the black, muddy water which had
invaded his mouth, with a gesture of disgust, and exclaiming at the same time — "What
(1 — d bad water ! Has anyone a flask of brandy ?"

The Druid in the " Post and the Paddock " relates that ia a military race two men
were so flurried at coming down together that they unwittingly exchanged horses, and the
winnei- found on returning to scale that he was steering a bay mare instead of the brown
horse on which he started. One of the most remarkable instances ever heard of occm-red
some years ago at Epsom, though that was in a flat race, and scarcely comes within the
scope of our present subject ; nevertheless, perhaps we shall be excused for mentioning it.
The event is thus told in the "History of Horse Pacing" : — " Just before coming in at the
winning post, being crossed by a gentleman on horseback, a rider was thrown ; but his
leg hanging in the stirrup the horse carried his weight in, and won mu-aculously
without hurting the rider." There ! talk about the Cliifncy rush, or the patience and
fine riding of Fordham ! they are tarts and cheesecakes to winning a race head downwards
in this fashion, and the jockey of 177 G may literally be said to have won anyhow. Mr.
Yates was thought to have done a good thing at Croydon a few years ago, when, after a
burster at the water jump, he arose fi-om mother earth just as his horse Harold was
making off, and with a presence of mind never to be surpassed seized him b)^ the tail, and,
thus regaining the saddle, beat the crack Cortolvin. Put this fades into insignificance
by the side of oiu- Epsom friend who was carried in a winner bj' a foot. We have all
read how the Yicar of Wakefield (as he was facetiously termed) was set going ibr the
Liverpool, and looked, when in a regular scrimmage at Beecher's Bank, like a man who
had swallowed a waggon-load of monkeys; but it is, we believe, not so generally well-
kno^vn that a trainer of the present day, who in earlier times had the care of old C'heeroot,
to his utter amazement rode and won a steeplechase on him. The facts, as related to us,
run thus : Cheeroot was sent for a steeplechase, and either a gentleman or a professional
engaged to ride him. The day and hour came, however, witliout the man, and there was
nothing for it but to supply his place with the old horse's attendant, who, though a
fail' jockey and good exercise rider, had never faced a fence in his life. That he did
not fancy his job may be supposed, and he took his leg up with the full intention of
pulling the horse round at the first convenient opportunity, alleging that he had refused,
and retui-ning at least ere the brook was reached, his greatest di-ead being the water.
But Cheeroot knew of no such half measiu'cs, and going away at a rattler refused to
listen to the voice of the charmer, and, in spite of himself, bore him triumphantly over
all obstacles (the brook included) and passed the winning flag fii'st, thus making him
a hero in spite of himself.

AVINNING EASILY.

AS with tlie chase, so M'ith the steeplechase, some of the leading iiicideuts of which
we have preseuictl to oiu' readers. iVnd now we come to the final scene, where
the Captain, who has been waiting patiently off until the last leap is safely
negotiated, comes out with his horse full of running, and takes hina to the front. There
he sits, calm as though taking his dinner, and with hands well down is stealing away
without having once to caU upon his horse ; in fact, the orders that Elacklock's trainer
gave his jockey when he put him up for the Leger, to " lig thee hands dovm and let him
stride away and cUstauce them,"' have iu this instance a fail- chance of being carried out ;
for though the nag in the double-reined snaffle and martingale has a good eftbrt left in
him yet, his companion has all the best of it, and must with luck land the winner.

So much for the accompanying sketch, which is one of the most spii'ited in oiu- collec-
tion. And now, as this is our last effort in the steeplechase line, perhaps we may be
allowed to say something anent its antecedents and antiquity. In the first place, a very
general and at the same time erroneous impression prevails that steeplechasing is a sport
of modern date, and an inno^■ation on the province of both the racer and hunter. This
is fallacious, and though there is no record of its having been carried on quite on
the same principles as in the present day, there can be no doubt that trials of speed and
endurance across coimtry were very general amongst oiu* ancestors at a much earlier date
than we give them credit for. Though the fii'st regular accredited steeplechase was run
off in Leicestershii-e now nearly eighty years since, and won by a scion of the grand old
Meynell, who made that county the happy hunting-groimd of the elite of England, still,
the veutxu-e in which the judge placed Meynell fii-st, Forester second, and Gilbert Ileath-
cote last, was but a resuscitation under another form of the trail scent, or drag hunt, which
oiu- ancestors appear to have enjoyed as much as Oxonians have done iu these later days.
In the race to which we have alluded, the distance was eight miles, from the Coplow to
Barkley Ilolt and back ; and even the research of the Druid has been able to elucidate
little more concerning it.

If we look back to old Gervase Markham's directions for training horses, we find
the chase of the badger and fox, in the then state of the coimtry, discountenanced, but
that of the stag, buck, and hare recommended for training horses, whether for pleasm-e
or for wager. But what could the wager be that requu-ed a horse trained for it in such a
way ; certamly not on the race-com-se, for even at this early period was not Kewmarket in
full swing, with its regular com-ses and gallops, whereon horses could be sweated and
galloped, and the work they did as well as the distance they were sent along measured to a
nicety ? With these advantages, who would have encoimtered the drawbacks of an
animal rimning at will over groimd good or bad, and the uncertain pace of a pack of
hounds, which must be regulated by the day and the scent, instead of by the work the horse
was requii-cd to do '? But sometlung more than a plain gallop was wanted ; in fact, the
training evidently enough was for a race across country instead of on the flat, or for
what in those days was termed a hunting match, where, as in the modern Oxford Drag
Hunt, or the paper hunts of India or the Crimea, trail scents, either with or without
hounds, were used to point out the line to be taken ; and our good old ancestors, no doubt,
scudded away right merrily on their " Barbary jennets or light English geldings," as

old Gervasc hath it. Here, with the form slightly altered, but not more so than from the
old-fashioned four-mile heats to the present T.Y.C spin, we get the steepleehase, or at
any rate its counterpart.

Possibly, their essays may have been more across rough ground, bogs, heath, and so
forth, than would exactly suit the notions of Mr. Edwards or Geo. Stevens ; but doubtless
there was a certain amount of fencing included, and not unlikely a deep and broad river
or two in the line, as in that martial age a horseman was expected to manage his steed
as well in the water as on land; and if they could not, like Dick Christian, " 'ketch 'em up
and make 'em go " across thii-ty feet of water at a fly; they could encoimter rivers where
many of their successors woidd look out for a boat. In fact, their bits and saddles must
have sadly interfered with really scientific riding across country ; but after having, in
our own experience, seen a Yorkshire boy get along respectably witli hounds on a rough
unkempt pony, by the aid of a hemp halter tlnnist in his mouth, and a thorn twig
pidled ir-om the liedge to act the part of whip, spur, and one rein, we must give them
the credit of having made at least a decent fight across country. But space warns to
drop the old-world stories, and come to the time when steeplechasing, pure and simple,
became an institution in oiu" country.

This we may fairly date from the day when Captain Eoss and Lord Kennedy
met on the coach, and discussed the merits of Cai)tain Douglas as a rider, the
result of which was the celebrated Clinker and Radical match. This set the ball rolling,
and then we find Clashcrand Osbaldiston, Beecher and Vivian, Moonraker, Grimaldi,
and Co., taking up the tale. Then Jerry became but a grand prelude to the celebrated
Elmore Lottery era, and in conjunction with Gaylad, the short-quartered brown, who
had a grey tag to his tail just like a fox, played such havoc amongst his compeers,
that handicaps succeeded penalties, any amoimt of which failed to stop Jem
Mason and the Holderness Brown. Then Cigar, Peter Simple, and Vanguard
formed a triplet of grays well worthy the fame of their renowned predecessor,
Grimaldi. And Discount, with the Switcher as aide-de-camp, put in a strong claim
for the light and dark chesnuts. The latter was a queer gentleman to ride, and
perhaps on the whole scarcely so good as his stable companion St. Leger, and he
used to give Lord Strathmore a rough time of it to shove him along OA^er ditch and
bullfinch. These done with, Boiu-ton and Lord George, whom we remember seeing stai-t
for the Goodwood Cup in Nancy's year,worthilj- carried on the cross-countrj^ honours, until
light weights and handicaps brought in a lower standard, and it took the prestige of Lord
Coventry, with the crack sisters Emblem and Emblematic, once more to give a real
sterling character to the sport, despite the prowess of Huntsman, Emigrant, and another
or two. With L'Africaine the French seemed about to cut us down in cross-country
events, as they did with Gladiateur on the turf ; but there was a mystery hanging about
both, which sadly marred tlieir brilliant performances. By the way, it just occiu-s to us
that we have this year seen Eltham, third to the French crack in the Derby, and one of
the best of the lot that he gained so much kiulos by beating, figuring in hack races, and in
bad company even for such aff'airs. What a feat for the host horse the turf ever saw to canter
away from Christmas Carol who has once since won a handicap, and from Eltham who runs
hack selling races. Trulj' lie, the great, the invincible Gladiateiu-. worked hard for his
renown ! But he is not a steejjlechaser, and consequently beyond our remarks. We beg
his pardon for mentioning the mighty name in such company, but unfortunately all liis
followers have descended so low, that they call to mind the adage, " tell me your company,
and I will tell you who you are." Again, space warns us that we must follow our cross-
country memories no further, and as more recent events are touched on in another place,
we may well dismiss the theme, and turn om- attention to the sister sport on the flat.

SIR JOSEPH IIAWLEY

AS \vc have takou the Duke of IJoaiifort as oue of the most distinguislied aniuugst
masters of hounds, and Lord Pouk^tt as an owner of steeplechasers, so there is no oue on
the turf that has been to the fore oftener in great races than Sir Joseph Kawlcy ; and
well indeed has ho earned the title conferred on him of the Lucky Baronet, for not
onl)^ has he owned four Derby winners, but, as Buckle said, has picked up most of the
good things at Newmarket and at other places besides. It is now some years since he
became an owuer of race-horses, and his hrst passion for the sport Avas developed while
residing in Itah', where he ran a few horses in conjunction with Mr. Stanley. In 1846
he won his tirst great race in England with Maimi, who beat the highly-tried Cossack
for the July, and then followed her success by winning the Oaks the next Spring.
Thus the roan daughter of Veuison proved at the time a much more remunera-
tive purchase than the Oaks winner of the year before. Mendicant, bought for a large
sum from Mr. Gulley for the purpose of wiuuiug the xVscot Cup, for which she ran
nowhere, and Houghton Down nuist have been far more to Sir Joseph's liking than
Danebury at the time. The wonderful daughter of Touchstone, however, made ample
amends at the stud for her shortcomings on the turf, and laid the foundation of some of
the greatest successes of modern days for the subject of our notice. Fernhill, purchased
fi'om Tom Parr, did him yeoman's service, and won both the j^^orthamptonshire Stakes
and Metropolitan. The Yenisou blood again came to his aid with Vatican, third to The
Dutchman in the St. Leger, and winner of several good stakes besides ; but afterwards
turned such a desperate savage at the stud, that he was deprived of sight. Aphrodite
was able to run home head-aud-head with the Danebiuy Derby crack, Grecian, lor the
July, and then to win the Chesterfield, besides placing the One Thousand and Park Hill
to her three-year-old credit ; indeed, she was oue of the most beautiful tillies we ever
remember to have seen. Few have had such a string of threc-j'ear-olds in their stable
at the same time as Aphrodite, Teddington, The Ban, and Confessor. For though
the game little Derby winner was not Sir Joseph's own horse, he ran in the cherry
jacket and was under his management. The Derby, Oue Thousand, Doucaster Cup,
Park Hill, and Great Yorkshire Handicap, is not — added to being second for the Two
Thousand — a bad allowance of great races for one stable in the year. Xotwithstanding
this success, with the autumn came the determination to sell off the baronet's stud,
and, with the exception of The Confessor and Cowl, they came to the hammer. Luckily,
Mendicant's figure stopped short of the £500 reserve, and with her and a few other
mares he commenced breeding, the effect of which was that five years later the black
and chestnut Beadsman and Fitz-Roland were walking about the Stockbridge Downs in
breaking tackle. But luck used their owner so scurvily that he took j^rivate training
grounds on Cannon Heath, with George Manning as master of the horse, and removed
his stud from Danebiu-y before these horses had shown their true merits. Fortune soon
dawned upon the new undertaking, for tiie Two Thousand and Derby both came to
Kingsclere in the following year ; and the two-j'ear-old Musjid began to show what was
in him at the Stockbridge Meeting. It is somewhat singular that within a very short
space John Day should haAC lost two studs, through their owners preferruig to train
privately, which contained the winner of a Two Thousand and a Derby, besides a dead-
heater for the Newmarket Stakes, and such cliukers as Mu.sjid and Buccaneer, as they
say in dinner parlance, to follow. Perhaps still more strange is the wonderful luck
which followed both the teams thus removed, oue of which was placed under the care of a
hunting groom, who did wonders with them ; though, good as he was in the stable, he did
not prove himself strong enough to ward off enemies from A^'ithout, and through the
treachery of his OAvn lads lost a great chance of piilling off some of the great three-
year-old races. But to retiun. We left Sir Joseph mth Beadsman and Fitz-Eoland at
tlie head of the poll as three-year-olds, with Mu.-^jid just beginning to show the best two-
year-old form of the season ; and thus far the Manning and AYells )iicii(i(/c seeuied as
successful as the Taylor and Marson one of old, when the chestnut bi'own and bay

carried all before tlieui. The sou of Orlando and Queen's Head became a great
favourite for the St. Leger, for -which his chance was undoubtedly great, M'hen he
unfortunately broke down, and the turf knew him no more. This horse was bought at
the Ilampton Court sale for 410 guineas, but Beadsman was the produce of Weatherbit
and the high-priced Mendicant, for whose failure he amply recompensed Sir Joseph when
the Derby winnings came in, and has done yet more for him by the excellence of his stock.
We believe a walk-over at Stockbridge was nearly his only performance after winning
the Derby, though he found an admirable successor in the Tickhill-bred Musjid, who so
far carried out his two-year-old promise as just to do Marionette, Trumpeter, and Pro-
mised Laud for the Derby, when his legs failed him ; and in a stud career which death
closed earlj-, he has left us nothing particidar by which to remember him. We then
find Sii- Joseph with nothing \evy good until the lucky purchase of Asteroid from Admiral
Eons put him in possession of about the best horse of his day, and added the Ascot and
Chester Cups to his sideboard trophies, besides a host of other good things too numerous
to mention in an article of this description. Ijut the bonny bay at length, after showing
his wiry frame in all parts of England, was put on the retired list, and the first of the
Beadsman's gave little promise of the goodly harvest that was yet to come ; while Wells
Avas oftencr seen at the post for great stakes in the blue and orange tlian in the cherry and
black, until The Palmer came out a hot favourite at Ascot for the Maiden Plate, which he
Avon, beating a large field Avith D'Estournel amongst them, and forthwith brought his
Derby chance into notice. How he AA^as beaten for that race, hoAV he subsequently
trained on, and the form he showed last autumn, are now become matters of histor3^ But
a still more formidable detachment was added to the Ivingsclero string the next year in
Blue Gown, Rosicruciau, and Green Sleeve. The former, after being beaten by Lady
Elizabeth, Grimston, and Co., and being denounced as "short," "a pig of ahorse," besides
having sundry other choice epithets bestoAVcd iipon liim, electrified the sporting Avorld by
the wayiuAA'hich he carried an imknown weight, " making mincemeat " of his held in the
Champagne at Doncaster. It Avas surmised for a time that the _fi'asco Avould sever the
long connection between Sir Joseph and Wells. The other Beadsman's, by runnjng first
and second in the Middle Park Plate, as well as winning the Criterion after Blue GoAvn
had placed the Clearwell to his credit, almost made it look as though, like Edwards of
old, Sir Joseph had a whole team in his stable capable of winning the Derby. When
Blue GoAvn was at length sent to the right-about, the war waxed hot between the
partisans of Rosicruciau and Green SlecA'C. But the Spring found only the despised one
Avith his two-year-old form remaining, and in spite of the certainty it Avas considered
for the Danebury mare, the public lumped their money on Blue GoAvn, and Wells
won Sir Joseph his fourth Derby on " the people's horse." The Avonderful weight-
carrying powers Blue Goavu showed in the autumn raised a hot and Avithal unprofitable
discussion as to his being the best horse of the century, which, after all, can be but
matter of opinion Avhere no trial is obtainable; and noAV, since he this Spring has
beaten Blueskin with difficulty, and been bowled over by Vespasian, he will probably
be decried for as great an imposter as he was before a Avonder. From some cause,
probably hard work, he appears to have lost his once great form, and Ave shall most
probably next hear of iiim as a stud hero. Meanwhile, there is another of the family
that must not escape our notice, and in naming Poro Gomez Ave mention one of the best
two-year-olds of his year, and a promising aspirant for Derby honours. Whether he is
destined to bo enrolled iu " Weatherby " as the actual AAdnnor or not, he has yet done Avell
for the fame of his breeder, aud Sir Joseph's name will be handed doAvn to posterity as
the producer and owner of some of the best horses that have ever trod the turf. We say
this advisedly; for if Teddington, Blue GoAvn, and Asteroid are not the best Ave have
seen — and Ave by no means assert them to be so, they have run in such company and
vmder such weights as few have attempted, and, instead of confining their jousts to those
of their OAvn year, have thrown down the gauntlet to the best of all ages. Not only as
a successful breeder and straightforward o\\-ner Avill Sir Joseph be remembered, but also
for his attempt, whether it prove successful or (like Lord Coventry's equally desu-able
motion) is cast on one side, to ameliorate some of the labours from which two-j'ear-olds
now suftcr. We may add that his name will be handed doAvn to posterity as a humane
man as Avcll as a good sportsmar.

8T0CKWELL AND BLINK BONNY.

ALL experience points to the paddock as the phice where the germ of future success in
racing pursuits is first laid, and on the proper mating of sii-e and dam must depend the
excellence of every horse produced. A few years ago this was left very much to
chance, some successful i-unner or fashionable sire being selected without reference to the
suitability of his blood to the mare allotted him. Eut this is in a great measure changed
now, and the chance of mixing with various strains of blood is more carefully studied than
formerly ; indeed there is no doubt that though influences over which we can exert no
control may aftect the produce so as to render it useless, much may be done towards
producing better class horses by such studj\ Under these cii-cumstances we oft'er no
apology for placing the paddock second in our list of turf scenes, and no more worthy
representatives of their class as a blood sire and brood mare could be offered than
Stockwell and Blink Bonny. In fact, both have reached the highest pinnacle of fame,
both on the tiu-f and in the paddock, and well, indeed, may the former be termed the
Emperor of Stallions. But j^lace aii.r dames miist be oiu* motto, and ere entering on his
merits we will discuss those of his consort, Blink Bonny. This celebrated mare was a
daughter of Melbrnmie and Queen Mary, by Gladiator, and worthilj^ takes rank beside
the old horse's sons. Sir Tatton Sykes and West Australian, with his daughter C'ymba.
As a two-year-old she was very successful, but at three her reverses began, and when
an immense public favourite she was beaten all to nothing by Imperieuse for the One
Thousand Guineas at Newmarket. The mare was said to be amiss at the time fi-om
shelling her teeth, and did so badly between that period and Epsom, that her owner and
ti'ainer, I'^Vnson, had little hope of attaining the success which really awaited him.
Anxiously as he watched the race, his mare was nowhere to be seen until a few strides
from the chair, when she came out from her horses like an arrow from a bow and won the
first Derby that a filly had carried off since Eleanor in 1801. Like her, too, she won the
ladies' race ; but the Oaks was a verj" different aftair fi-om the Derby, and the mare, still
continuing to improve, so spread-eagled her field that the judge placed them all. With
such credentials it is no wonder that she became a hot f;ivoui"ite for the St. Leger despite
the claims of Ignoramus, and the race was considered as little more than a match between
the pail'. These deductions, however, proved fallacious, and ere the Stand was reached
both of them were seen to be hopelessly tailed off, and Imperieuse, who had beaten her in
the One Thousand and herself suffered defeat in the Oaks, added another to John Scott's
long bederoU of Leger victories. On the Friday she won the Park Hill Stakes easily
enough, and^ so- great was public indignation at these equivocal performances, that
I'Anson and Charlton barely escaped lynching on the spot, and a cry was raised to ham-
sti'ing the mare as sheretiu-ned to scale. Three years old saw the best of her ; and though
she started at Goodwood the next year she never could be prepared properly, and, quitting
the tm-f, made her first stud alliance with Newininster, the offspring of which was the
clever little mare Borealis. It was, however, fi-om a visit to Stockwell that her paddock
fame was destined to spring, and by the aid of Blair Athol to place the Derby and St. Leger
to the credit of Spring Cottage. In his first essaj' he Avon the Derby, and then closed a
short but brilliant turf career appropriately with the Doncaster trophy. Twice he suf-
fered defeat, biit on each occasion there was some allowance to be made for him. The next
foal of Stockwell and Blink Bonny, Breadalbane, though sold to Mr. Chaplin for an
enormous price before he commenced racing, turned out very moderate ; and the old
mare died ere she could breed him up, so a cart mare was called in as stepmother.
It is certainlj' strange that with two horses the produce of the same parents,
one should be so much inferior to the other, which can only be accounted for
by some influence unknown to us at present. Xevcrtheless, it is frequently

the ease, and as another instance avo may cite Miss Twickenham, dam of Ted-
dington, one of the very best horses ever saddled, who never threw another worth
training, and, though tried again Avith Orlando, failed as signally as she sncceeded in the
first instance. Paradigm, on the contrary, bred winners to nearly everything, and when
sent to Stockwell produced Lord Lyon, A\-inner of the Two Thousand, Derby, and St.
Leger. She then on a second visit threw Achievement, who, though perhajis not on the
whole so successful, Avas, Ave believe, in her best form far superior to her brother. But
it is time Ave turned to StockA^'ell himself. Though to those avIio knoAV the neigh-
bourhood now it seems almost incredible, he Avas foaled at StockAvell, Avhere Mr. Theobold
then had a stud farm. Got by the savage Barou, Avho was one of the horses that John
Scott picked out and developed so mysterionslj^ into Leger Avinners, he is out of
Pocahontas, Avhose stud fame will live in memory Avith that of Prunella and other
Belgravian mothers as the ancestress of a perfect host of Avinners. To the Baron she
bred StockAvell and Eataplan, Avho, by the Avay, Avas not so good as his elder brother ; to
HarkaAvay she bred King Tom, to Nutwith Knight of Kars, and Knight of St.
Patrick to Knight of St. George. In Lord Lyon's year, the first tlu-ee in the Two
Thousand and the first four in the Derby Avere all descended from her. The old marc
herself Avas by Glencoe, a son of Sultan out of Marpesia by Muly. StockAvell Avas sold
as a colt to Lord Exeter, Avho A\'as as near as possible again parting Avith the best horse '
he ever possessed, but luckily did not do so. For him he won the Tavo Thousand and
St. Leger, as well as the Yorkshire Stakes ; but his luck, unlike Blink Bouny's, deserted him
at Epsom, and he Avas far from his best form when Daniel O'Rourke beat him for the blue
riband. The game little Teddington sadly interfered with his Cup career, but he was
always there or thereabouts, and left the turf as sound and free from blemish as on the day
heAvas foaled and passed into the hands of Lord Londcsborough, who had StockAvell and West
Australian at the same time. BoAve's baj^ was not, however, destined for anything like
the fame of the slashing chestnut, and perhaps was no great loss to his country when he
departed for French soil ; as the faint-hearted Wizard, grand horse though he Avas to look
at, is but a poor recommendation to West Australian. Yery different are StockAvell's
credentials ; and Avhen the EaAveliffe Stud Company made over their share in him to
Mr. Kaylor, who conjointly with them purchased him at Lord Londesborough's sale,
they little thought Avhat a mine of Avealth they were relinquishing. With Blair Athol
and Lord Lyon as Derby Avinners, the Marquis and Lord Lyon as Tavo Thousand
Avinners, Repulse and Achievement as One 'I'housand victors, Eegalia to represent
him in the Oaks and St. Albans, Caller On, The Marquis, Blair Athol, Lord Lyon,
and Achievement in the St. Leger — he has certainly had his share of most of the
good things going. Into the cups and other races that his stock have won, sj^ace
will not alloAV us to enter, but in this class of race he has been nearly as successful
as in the three-year-old events. In fact, most of his stock, his horses in particular,
retain their form for a longer period than other families, tmd like their sire a great
number of them have legs that will stand any amount of training. Perhaps, setting
aside his Derby and St. Leger horses, two better examples of stoutness and speed,
somewhat above the average, than Asteroid and Thrmderbolt cordd scarcely be
brought forward, as each, OA^er his own distance, was able to give aAvay weight and
yet Avin. Often haA'e we watched Wells on the former making his OAvn running over
long courses, and galloping everything to a standstill, and the latter has also delighted
us by his fine speed for three-quarters of a mile, or seven furlongs. Speed we take to be
the StockAvells'y&r/e generally rather than stoutness, and Lord Lyon never showed to
more advantage than over a mile, at Avhich distance The Duke Avas certainly most bril-
liant. Ostregar Avas another that at a moderate distance could Avell hold his own, and
Lord Ronald picked up some A'ery useful crumbs at a mile, or a mile and a quarter.
But our space is filled; and while the SAvitch-tailed, hack-looking Melbourne wonder has
passed away to the happy hunting-grounds, her paddock partner luckily still remains to
produce sound and lasting stock, and their mutual son, Blaii- Athol, holds high coiu't at
Middle Park, where to his keeping must their stud fame be consigned.

GOING TO THE POST.

FEW prettier sights are to be seen than a fiekl of horses tiling tinietly oti' on their way to
the post. And few more exciting moments are experienced than those which so closely
precede the start for a great race. IIow eagerly is the competitors' look, bearing, and
condition scanned. IIow soon is it remarked if one is frctfiil, or another sweats. And
how dilferent the behaviom- of the horses themselves. The dark brown, cool and collected,
walks quietly away, unmindful of the throng which crowd and mob him, his eyes bright
and cars moving backwards and forwards, his head nodding as he gives to the bit,
and his tail swinging gaily from side to side in unison Avith his long and jaunty stride.
Ilis whole look and bearing bespeak confidence, and his backers having scanned him
over, straightway retm-n well pleased to the enclosure, feeling sure it will take something
more than a false start or two to upset him, and he will take but little out of himself ere
the actual contest begins.

Not so the chestnut that follows in a iiery fi"et, every vein on his skin standing out
like network, his eyes Hashing aud nostrils quivering with excitement, as he snorts
defiance to his foes. In vain does the jockey pat and caress him ; all his tact can scarcely
keep him fi'om sending his rider over his head, as though shot from a cataj^iilt by a
sudden back jump, aud it is only the trainer's hold on the snaffle that restrains him from
breaking away. As it is, he bores his head between his kuees, sidles and plunges, and
you may depend upon it he will give both trainer and jockey all they can do to get him
safe to the post, to say nothing of getting well away from it. No matter how many
i'alse starts, he is sm-e to be in front each time, and gi'cat will be his luck if he
does not run the course half through a time or two ere the actual race commences.
Next him, again, is a regular slug — one that with di-ooping ears and careless gait all but
falls ou his nose at every other step, and by way of waking him up his jockey takes him
by the head as soon as he leaves the saddliug paddock, aud shakes him up into
a brisk gallop, administering very probably a couple of sidebiuders by way of refreshing
his memory, and letting him know that whatever he may do with the lad at exercise, he
is now expected to exert himself by way of a change. Xo danger fi-om him if the crowd
do close round; but here is one that will make room — the "wicked-lookiug bay mare that
lashes out at every other sti'ide, and appears to consider her fore legs amjjly sufficient for
the purposes of progression. To get her settled down she is started in the wake of the
slug ; but kicking is more to her taste than galloping, and ere thi'ee strides are covered
her head is down, and having delivered her heels well in the ail- she whips short round,
and is retm-ning to the paddock ere the jockey can recover his seat. Theu commences a
set-to between them, she with her head bored in the air resisting for a time all his eftbrts
to tm-n her, and when he has done so, steadily refusing to proceed. Then comes an
attendant, who, running a few yards by her side, again sets her going, but with no better
success than before, and before the Stand is reached the same manoeuvre is again tried ;
but the jockey is prepared for her now, and instead of going nearly over her head, gives
her a regular stinger behind the girths, for his patience is well-nigh exhausted. This
rouses her ladyship and makes matters still worse, and a succession of gymnastics, much
more edifying to the yokels, who enjoy the fun immensely, than to owner, trainer, or
backers, is the result ; and at last she is led away, still kickmg, to join the others who are
preparing to canter. At length they are all together and the course tolerably clear ;
Martin Starling's white handkerchief is waved aloft, and with a clatter like a charge of

cavalry they rattle by the Stand. "Was the course cleared but a moment ago, it is crowded

enough now, as each one is anxious to see how his favom-ite goes, and nothing but the

narrowest track is left them between the ranks of the spectators. There is the chestnut

pulling, romping, tearing in front, his jockey calling " Hi, hi !" to those idiots who will

cross from side to side just as the horses arc coming, greatly to the danger of their own

life and limbs, as well as of those of the rider. How differently the brown goes, as with

arched neck, and taking well hold of his bit, he sweeps over the ground with lengthy

stride, and action true as clock-work. Behind come the ruck, and last of all the slug,

who, even in the preliminary, requires a touch of the persuaders and a considerable

amount of riding to keep him to his work ; and the wicked bay, whose tail betraj^s even

now her inclination to stop and kick. Let us not, however, despise even these ; the

slug may settle into his stride, and go a rattler when warmed up to his work, and

the wicked one may, in the excitement of the encounter, turn from the error of her

ways. But the canters are at length over, the slug stopped without difficulty opposite

the chaii", and the chesnut pulled up half a mile beyond it, while the rest have been

pretty equally distributed between them ; so once again they are got together, and on

their journey to the post. Did we say it was a pretty sight ? We did it no more than

justice. And whether it be on the crowded Downs of Epsom, before the aristocratic

lawn of Goodwood, or in the horse-loving Xorth, or the Town Moor of Doncaster, we

know of few so heart-stii'ring to a real sportsman. There is one place — K^ewmarket —

where all else connected with the turf is seen to perfection, but this one grand

sight is missed. At Epsom we have taken our chance of a scramble to see the

finish as Ave could, in order that we might be at the post when the brilliant

throng files out of the paddock at the wicket opposite Sherwood's house, and in

a gay phalanx di-aws up ahead of Mr. McGeorge, on the opposite brow, there to

wait, amidst the suspense of thousands, until at last the flag shall be lowered to

an equitable start. We had seen them as they circled round in Indian file ere the

paddock was left for the com-se ; anxiously had we watched the canters, and

with haste sped away to the starting-post. Where could the lover of equine beauty

see it in greater perfection than here, as some six-and-twenty thoroughbreds are set going,

stopped, tiu'ned, and pulled up with every variety of attitiide and movement of which

their muscles are capable — a very horse ballet in reality '? But at length they are away,

and we join the rush across to the hill, there to Avatch the result, for long ere this the

stands are closed to us, and glass in hand avc must uoav see the race as best we may.

Very difterent is the quiet look at the nags as on the Cup-day they parade before the

Stand at Goodwood, Avhere, obedient to the starter's signal, they wheel and turn Avith the

precision of cavalry ere they are broiight in line and dispatched on theii- stamina-trying

journey aAvay roiind the hill. Second only to this — if second — is the parade of the St. Leger

candidates, and here, as at Goodwood, the whole can be seen from the Stand Avithout

incouA'cnience, and each one can scan his faAOiu'ite to his heart's content, and for

those Avho care for more than the L. S. D. of racing, there is no greater treat than this.

At NeAvmarkct, as Ave before obserA'cd, this is lost, and he who would see all the competitors

must be ubiquitous indeed, unless he is Avilling to lose the finish and meet them Avhen

they assemble at tlie pobl ; for some are saddled in one place, some in another, some

paraded publicly in the bird-cage, others sent by roundabout ways to the back of the

ditch, and then saddled, mounted, and cantered ; so that the eyes of an Argus and

the speed of a Meteor coidd not compass an inspection of all, and be in time to indorse

Mr. Clark's verdict at the ending post. But Ave have been a long time getting our

competitors to the post, and must perforce cut short all fm'ther remarks and at once

place them in the starter's hands, only hoping that the hot chestnut will be as patient

as is consistent Avith liis nature, that the bay mare Avill break the leg of neither man nor

horse, that they may have a fair start and the best win.

BRINGING IN THE A^^INNER.

NOW is the time for excitement : the end has come, and come, moreover, as wo wished
it. The colt whose sire and dam we selected, whose early ijaddoek-days, and whose
well-being dru-iug the ordeal of training -n-e watched, has passed the post with his
head in front, and his nimiber is already displaj'cd on the board. Once let the "All
right " be pronounced as liis jockej' weighs in, and his name will be eiu'olled in " Euff " and
" Bailey " as the winner of a great race, and those to whose care, experience, and fore-
thought his existence is due may glory in him for ever. Perhaps it is the proudest
moment of our lives, as, with Martin Starling to clear the way, we take him by the head
and lead the winner back to scale. " A tight fit, but I just did him," says the jockey
as our hand is laid on the rein, and he, pale and exhausted from the struggle, leans
forward to speak to us ; the dull, glazed ej-e, the outstanding veins, distended nostril,
and quivering limbs, tell unmistakably that the race has been a severe one, though the
absence of the spur-marks that are freely bestowed over the flanks of the second horse bear
witness that fine, patieut riding rather than severe punishment has pulled him thi'ough.
'Tis a glorious moment, and so think the crowd, who are cheering and shouting round
us, until the entrance to the sacred precincts of the enclosure compels them to fall back
and gaze at a distance on the idol of the hoiu'. Well may thej' cheer, for nearly all
have won ; the horse was the idol of the public, has done well tlu-oughout, goue straight
for his engagement, and won it. ISTever, perhaps, was a finer opiJortunitj' for bringing
the pail into operation, and thousands of public money would have flowed into it ; but
there is yet one thing dearer than wealth, and the honour of winning is a thiug beyond
all price. But are there none in the croAvd who are not so jubilant ? Aye, many a one.
Cast your eye round and you will see them, backers of the second, who, had he been
first past the post, would have realised them a fortune. Yes ; pulled and roped
in race after race, entered in trumpery selling stakes, sent to win at small
meetings in bad company, the more effectually to blind the public, the money has
been quietly got on him at long odds without attracting attention. Then, to
make certainty more certain, horses that were dangerous have been bought out of his
way, owners squared, trainers and jockies treated with, until there was not a horse with
the ghost of a chance left in the race that was not a " safe 'un." But how about the
winner : were his claims overlooked ; did he not receive some share of this kind atten-
tion ? Undoubtedly ; the party were far too clever to leave anything to chance, and had
long ago foimd out that he was a clinker. Whj', then, was he not also made safe y Why,
he was safe as the deadest amongst them, and yet he won ; how was that possible ?
Listen I his jockey was made safe, but he was changed at the last moment — his services
claimed for a horse -with no possible chance, and another put up in his place. No doubt
we shall see something about the hardship and ill-luck of his being taken off' the winner
to ride such a brute, but rely on it. had he been in the saddle the head would have been

given the other way. Artifice must be met by artifice, and starting the weedy chestnut
who walked in with the crowd just prevented a deep-laid scheme of plun — ■, we bog pardon,
a well-planned coup from coming off. The deepest plans are sometimes overturned by the
merest trifles ; and here the phanee of an honest o-\vnpr possessing a good horse, and
finding an honest jockey to ride liiiii, has, at the last moment, overset those that have
been maturing for months.

So far, good ; a cliqiie have been disappohited of their pre}^ ; the bookmakers, who
live on the public, have to disgorge some of their spoil ; and the public, who iuA^ariably
follow — sometimes, we are sorry to say, precede — tliose owners who run straight, are
winners. And no one is prouder than the tiny urchin who, when his charge has been
sheeted and hooded, leads him awa}'. Such a scene is not, however, in^-ariably
enacted when the winner is led back ; and within the present decade a\o have
seen a phalanx' of fighting men hired to surround horse and rider as they
returned to scale, and protect them from the fiu'y of an ill-advised, though justly
indignant mob. The prudent forethought which suggested such a course, highly as it
is to be conunended, seems hardly compatible with conduct free from stain and a con-
science void of off'ence. Eut it is a loathsome theme, and we merelj^ turn to it as the
contrast to the picture wo have sketched. Let us now forsake it, and turning to the
breezy hills and wooded slopes of Goodwood, record how Lord George Bentinck carried
the feather Kitchener, bodily, saddle and all, to scale after he had borne the light-blue
and white to victory ; or, still more pleasing, recall the stately figure of Sir Tatton as
year after year he led the St. Leger victor back to scale. For years were his long coat and
well-worn tops to be seen beside the rails, and as regularly did he conduct the winner
to the enclosiu'e. Even Martin Starling himself is not more faithful to the l^lpsom
victor ; though, by the way, we once saw the latter veteran make a wrong shot, and
when Judge Clark went for Hermit he stood staunch to Marksman and Jemmy Grimshaw,
and in our hearing lost several bets for those who from this circumstance retained
the hope that the yellow and black had won. Kuowing Martin's custom, they doubted
their own eyesight, and, thinking as they wished, still betted on the Eusslej' chestnut.
Many an anxious moment is at times passed when the scale is reached, and only those
who have experienced it know the consternation produced in the hearts of backers when
the bridle has to be sent for. Pale and haggard are the looks of many a one until the
welcome "All right" is pronounced, and the trying ordeal OA'cr. Various methods
have at times been resorted to for the purpose of carrjang short weight, and yet
passing the clerk of the scales undetected, and no doubt they have in many instances
been successful. Thus it was not many years ago that a Derby winner was said to have
had something in hand, and yet, by the aid of a loaded whip, scored the eight-ten to Mr.
Manning's satisfaction ; but as a rule, we oi)ine dodges of this sort are not very
successful, and incline to Bill Scott's creed, when he said, " Give me a good horse, and
quicksilver be hanged ! ''

fiifSiSiSii/^S !

Tlllcsiluiuiiiiiiiiili'nTi'jitiliiiiiiiiiiiigiiiyiiuiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiJi li iilii i iiiliiii

epso:m downs on the derby day.

WnAT a theme for pen and pencil ! -what scope for description aud fiuc writing ! what
light and shade ! what colour ! what scenes of joy and sorrow, wealth aud luxury,
poverty and misery. Yes, here is a chance indeed, and we could fill not a couple of pages,
but a whole volume with the theme. Those "huts" and "ifs" are queer customers some-
times, and as awkward to get over as a douLle, or a brook with rotten banks aud no bottom.
This Mord-painting has, unfortunately, all been done before. After the host of writers, great
and small, from the mighty Dickens himself to the humblest pcnny-a-liner, have aii-ed
their pens and exhausted their brains over the Derby Day, how shall wo hope to say any-
thiug new on the subject ? Has not the road down, the road home, the feasting, the
fighting, the fun, and the fashion been done year by year, from the time that ovu' parents
were in swaddling clothes ? Has not Dickens penetrated even into the awful mysteries
of the kitchen department, and told us how luncheons are manufactured for the invading
host ; nay. the very wine and beer-sellers, and — icrra incognita ta all but the favoured
few — the "offices of the clerk of the course himself. Hear what he says on the subject : —
"Here we are! Let us get into the basement. First into the weighing-house, where
the jockeys ' come to scale ' after each race. We then inspect the offices for the Clerk of
the Course himself : wine cellars, beer cellars, larders, sculleries and kitchens, all as
gigantically appointed and as copiously fimiished as if they formed part of an Ogres'
Castle. To fm-nish the Eefreshment Saloon, the Grand Stand has in store ten-thousand
four hundred tumblers, one thousand two hundred wine glasses, thi-ee thousand plates
and dishes, and several of the most elegant vases we have seen out of the Glass Palace,
decorated with artificial flowers. An exciting odom- of cookery meets us iu our descent.
Eowsof spits are turniugrows of joints before blazing walls of fii-e. Cooks are trussing fowls,
confectioners are making jellies, kitchenmaids are plucking pigeons, huge crates of
boiled tongues are being garnished on dishes. One hundred and thirty legs of lamb, sixty-
five saddles of lamb, and one hundred and thirty shoiilders of lamb ; in short, a whole
flock of sixty-five lambs have to be roasted, and dished, and garnished by the Derby Day.
TAventy rounds of beef, four hundred lobsters, one hundred and fifty fillets of veal, one
hundred sirloins of beef, five hundred spring chickens, three hundred and fifty pigeon
pics ; a countless number of quartern loaves, and an incredible quantity of ham to be cut
u]) into sandwiches ; eight hundred eggs have got to be boiled for the pigeon pies and
salads. The forests of lettuces, the acres of cress and beds of radishes which will have to be
chopped up, the gallons of " dressing " that will have to be jDoured out and converted
into salads for the insatiable Derby Day, will be best imderstood by a mcmorandmu from
the chief of that department to the chcf-de-cuisine, which happened accidentally to fall
under om- notice : — 'Pray don't forget a large tub and a birch-broom for mixing the
salad !' " "We can only exclaim with Dominie Sampson, " Prodigious !" and thank our
fates that we have never been called upon to witness these monster gastronomic prepara-
tions. Little as wc care for the crush and crowd of the ring, with its deafening
clamour, we would rather face it ten times over than such a scene. How refreshing to
turn from this to a slight description of luncheon in Mr. Todd Hcatley's stand, peimed
now nearly a decade since by a writer who is as great in sketching sporting scenes as
Dickens is in the higher walks of art : — Ey the well known wine merchant "the whole
formula of racing luncheons has been happily changed, and the conventional fowl and ham
and cold lamb has given way to curries fit for a governor-general, cpces of trout, and salads
that transplant one to the Palais Eoyale. But these comestibles, of coiu'se, rcciuire
washing down ; and to supply this want an idea worthy of Sir Joseph Paxtou at

Chatswortli has been carried into effect, aad whicli, we fear, our want of engineering
knowledge will prevent us pro^Derly describing. The stand being enclosed,
a well has been sunk for the champagne, and a silver pump erected over it, by which
means the wine is forced up in sufficient quantity to. satisfy those thirsty souls that
are gathered around. When we last saw it, the machine was in full operation, and
the attendants wore working as hard at the pnmps as the crew of a leaky merchant
vessel attempting to get into Plymouth." This was not written by one Avithout kuow-
ledge, and here, as in many graver matters, we should be inclined to follow his tip, and
take Todd Heatley for choice. But, with the stands, only half our business is done ;
and as there is luncheon and luncheon in them, so also is there both good and indifferent
on the hill. Are there not drags and neat broughams which you have received special
injunctions to visit immediately after the race, and which you invariably fail to fiad, or
if you should by chance stumble on either one or the other, is it not an hour and a half
after time, when the Meet is gone and the plovers' eggs dispatched — when the drumstick
of a fowl, and some bitter (warmed nicely in the sun) which even the men have left
nntoiiched, alone awaits yon. Talk of a blank day with hounds ; what is that to a di-aw,
amongst that forest of carriages, to an outsider who has patronised the rail, and trusted
to his own luck or instinct for finding his friends and luncheon when on the Downs ?
There is much to see and much to tempt one on the venture, independent of Cliquot and
lobster-salad ; for do not bright eyes abound there as well as on the Stand, and is it
not worth braving a whole army of cads, touts, and fortune-tellers to catch a glance
from some of them '? jSTor arc tliey easier to be found than the eatables, for many is the
blank daj^ we have had on that very hill, trying to find some fair one to whom we were under
a bond to lose as many dozens of Dent and Aldcroft's best six-aud-thrce-quarters as would
have set up a moderate outfitter's shop in the country, but we have turned away sad
in heart, though richer in pocket, for our ill-luck. Once more do we essay the task,
and then, if still unsuccessful, we shall eschew the hill, swell drags, neat brougliams,
and bright eyes, for ever on the Derby Day, and take the advice of an old friend, whicli
we can also recommend to oiir readers as being thoroughly sound: — " My dear fellow,"
said he, " I presume you go to Epsom for enjoyment. Of course j^o'u do. Then get
one man who has wit enough to converse without making puns or attempting smart
things, and who, moreover, believes in you as a judge of a horse, and will hear what
you have to say without contradiction. Then, having previously done all yon desire
in the way of speculation, go with him into the paddock, and there look over the Derby
horses — see them saddled and mounted. That done — by which time you will, of course,
be tired — get some champagne or claret-cup; retu-e to the farther side, in the shade of
the trees, and there, stretched at length on the grass, discuss it and the merits of the
horses at the same time. Avoid, if possible, hearing who has won, lest it may influence
yoiu- digestion. If you have backed the winner, you will see it in the evening papers ;
if you are on the wrong horse, why should you know it sooner than is absolutely
necessary? Then, having indulged the dolccfar nientc until )'ou wearj'of doing nothing,
retui'n to town, and have the best dinner to bo obtained at your club. This for a fine
day. Should it be a cold or wet one, don't go. By this means you will be saved
much unnecessary labour and annoyance, and be for less likely to sutfer from dyspepsia
than by the usual modes of passing the Derby Day." So said our friend ; and should
our next draw on the hill jn-OA'c as unsuccessful as the preceding ones, we shall certainly
take his advice. All this tiine we have not said much about the Downs. Well, no ;
many as are the descriptions we have read of the scene, none ever yet did it justice ; so
we prefer leaving oiu' friends in the hands of the artist, whose life-like sketch will give
them a better idea than a liundrcd pages of description from our pen.