at

MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE !

\V. ALLISON
1917

MY KINGDOM FOR
A HORSE!"

YORKSHIRE, RUGBY, BALLIOL, THE BAR

BLOODSTOCK AND JOURNALISTIC

RECOLLECTIONS

BY

WILLIAM ALLISON

" The Special Commissioner "

Author of" Blair At hoi," " The British

Thoroughbred Horse," etc.

NEW YORK

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN BV THE R
EDINBURGH

URL

TO
MEMBERS OF BALLIOL COLLEGE

AND

RUGBEIANS

OF ALL AGES
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED

BY
ONE OF THEM

CONTENTS

PAOB

PROLOGUE . . . . . . *7

Being Preliminary Information for Opponents of Racing
• — How I became interested in Bloodstock and Racing in
Early Days — How I indulged in Betting — -The Kingcraft
" Orgy " — Birmingham Dog Show preferred to " Smalls "
-Beaten for "Mods." by Prince Charlie

CHAPTER I . . . . -27

Early Days and Antecedents — Curiosities of Kilvington —
The Drink Habit — How the Church was run — The wonder-
ful new Rector — What he thought of me — 'Death of the
Prince Consort

CHAPTER II . . . . .36

The Treaty of Paris and Death of the Prince Consort-
Malt Liquor, Port, and Agricultural Work — Mr Arrow-
smith and Squire Bell' — A Hustings Episode — "Sammy "
Cass— The Great Mr Rhodes — Tim Whiffler at Thirsk—
Thirsk Races — The Hunt Cup — Martin Gurry wins on
Catalogue— Village Idiots at Kilvington

CHAPTER III . . . . . -45

Christmas at Kilvington — Old Customs— First Visit to
London-— The Great Exhibition— Lord Dundreary— The
Colleen Bawn — Early Education — Life at Cundale Parson-
age— The first Ironclads— I armour-plate the Nautilus —
" A Coursing Match " — Cruelty of Boys— Mr Gray beats
us — The Making of Fairyland— A Cold-water Cure— How
we celebrated the Prince of Wales 's Wedding

CHAPTER IV . . . . . -55

Life at Coxwold Vicarage— My Welsh Tutor— His strange
Methcds of Teaching— I Myself set up as a Teacher— No
Dissent at Coxwold— Racing Associations— The Coxwold
Derby Sweep (Macaroni's Year)— Failure to see Tom King
— Early Shooting— My First Partridge— Mr Kingsley and
the Kites— The Kite String and the Magistrate's Hat—
My Fear of that Magistrate — Tom Brown's Schooldays
sends me to Rugby ,

7

8 CONTENTS

PAOB

CHAPTER V . . 63

Oakfield House Preparatory School— Mr J. M. Furness
and the Canes— " Mother " Davidson— Port and Bread
and Butter— Concerning Rugby Football— The Hacking
Game — I get used to it — "Louts " and Rows with them—
Harry Verelst and the Snowball — I see a Man in the Stocks
— Why not Stocks for Conscientious Objectors? — The
French Master and his painful Books— Head of the School
— Effects of Get-learning-quick Tuition— Mat. Furness—
"Having it Down " — Departure to the Big School

CHAPTER VI . . . . . • 71

First Term at Rugby— "Jex" — Godley's Fag — The
Curing of Barker— "Orange " Peel's Finance — Palmy
Days of Rugby Cricket — Upper Middle I. — Death of my
Father — Return to School— Catering Arrangements —
"Mindar" and his Song— Rugby Football — All must
come — House Runs — House Washing — First Experiences
of "Froddy" — Natural Science and Modern Languages
despised— First House Supper— Departure of Demigods

CHAPTER VII . . . . . .80

In the Upper School — "Plug" — Batley transplants the
big Tree — Irascible Powell — Stuart Wortley— Learning
German— Through the Lower Fifth into the Fifth— Death
of my Mother — Through the Fifth into the Twenty — My
first Breech-loader — My first Grouse — An astounding
Drive to Saltersgate Moor— Shooting at Daybreak

CHAPTER VIII . . . . .90

Jex-Blake and his Influence — How I saw him at Assouan »
— Mr Gubbins and Sam Darling not Egyptologists — Jex-
Blake and the Victor Wild Verses — He leaves Rugby for
Cheltenham — Rugby Contemporaries — The Rifle Corps —
I defeat Humphry at Shooting — Stevenson— Other Not-
ables—Blair Athol's the Blood— Through Four Forms
in Four Terms — Concerning the Sixth— "Jex" and my
"Character"— The Rabbit Supper

CHAPTER IX . . . . . .98

Out of Control — Money and Doctor's Certificates — Mr
Arrowsmith's Cornucopia- — "Bob" Colling finds me a
Horse— Tragedy of the Fifth Form Verse and Prose —
Browne Quarts. ! — Rifle Shooting Extraordinary — Shot
by Ramrods— The Windsor Review— Selous and the
Swans— Installed in the Sixth Form — I read a Lesson —
Concerning my Duties

CONTENTS 9

PAQB

CHAPTER X . . . . . 107

Our House on Fire — Doctor Temple and the Fire Buckets
— The Coming of Jester- — Buying Setters from Captain
Russell-England — Stevenson's Ghost Story — Undis-
covered Mystery — Lee-Warner baffled — Memories of
Rugby House — Our House Twenty — My Temporary
Exclusion — Rugby Football Fifty Years Ago — Apprecia-
tion of Dr Temple — -How he remembered all old
Rugbeians — My Disillusion

CHAPTER XI . . . . . . 117

Blair Athol's first Runner wins — The Fairfield Sale, 1868
— Blair Athol in the Ring — Foreign Buyers — Mr Blenkiron
beats them all— The Fish Fight at Whitby— How Sir
Harcourt Johnstone was defeated — "King" Hudson in
York Castle — Our Dogs at Rugby — Their Life with the
Pastrycook — Horrible Story of a Bagged Fox — 'Fags and
their Duties — A Duplicated Supper — Moberly's goes one
better

CHAPTER XII ...... 126

Long Absence from School — The Assistant Masters — Dis-
like of them — Dr Hayman elected Headmaster — Auto-
matic Rise to Second in the School— Football Fancies —
Effect of Absence — Try for a Christ Church Studentship-
Matriculate at Balliol— Farewell to Doctor Temple— My
last Big Side Match— Life under Dr Hayman — Go As You
Please — .SJschylus in a Dress Coat — Last Vlth Dinner —
Grand Military at Rugby — Patey outwitted — Our Dogs
and our Convenience-^ Long-distance Running — The
Harborough Magna Run — Also the Crick

CHAPTER XIII . . . . . 138

Life at Coxwold Vicarage — Terriers and Game-cocks —
Criticism of other Terriers near Rugby — Training for the
Sports— Beaten for the Half-mile— The Exhibitions and
the Assistant Masters — Kingcraft and Champagne Bottles
— High-pressure Reading for the Exhibitions — Merely to
annoy the Junior Masters — 'Radicals and Free-thinkers —
Troubles of Stevenson — Our Farewell Banquet — An
Exhibition won — Invited to give it up — Thoughts after
leaving Rugby

CHAPTER XIV ..... 147

Racing in 1870 — Contemporaries at Balliol — H. H.
Asquith— Lord Randolph's First Election — The Master-
Life in College — On the River — Boxing with Tom Evans — •

io CONTENTS

CHAPTER XIV — continued PAOB

Billiards and the Proctor— Morrison's Fours— " Billy "
Farrer — Supplanted by Lord Elgin— Hunting preferred
to Rowing — Hack-hunters—Charlie Symonds— Tollitt—
Birmingham Dog Show preferred to "Smalls"— Bob
Colling, the Elder— Concerning his Wedding

CHAPTER XV ...... 158

After Dinner with Jowett — Nervous Apprehensions — The
Dervorguilla Society — Leave granted to attend the
Wedding — Rats at Butler's — Hunting a Badger — Swin-
burne after Lunch — Drum Major and how he won at
Haxby — His Defeat at Myton — Buying Angram for
Lindsay Smith — Drum Major and Angram at Oxford — A
Run with the Bicester— Henry S. King and the Fistulatrix
— Drum Major disappoints — Attempt to raffle him- A
Serious Word or Two

CHAPTER XVI . . . . .168

The College Athletics— Training round the Quad— The
Half-mile Handicap and its Lesson — Lord Elgin again to
the Fore — Change of Rooms — Vicars and Warner — The
Cellar and the Outrageous Picture — 'Hanging the Picture
• — My Absence Next Day — The other Picture-hangers
" sent down " — Extraordinary Interview with the Master
— I escape Scot-free — Rose of Athol and the Pari-Mutuels
— Prince Charlie — Boxing at Blake's — George Faber —
Improvement in the Cardinal

CHAPTER XVII . . . . .179

The Cardinal and the " Grinds " — How we trained him —
His good Race for the Merton " Grind " — Attempt made
to buy him — C. S. Newton corroborates — The Christ
Church "Grind" — Victory all but assured' — Fall and
Death of the Cardinal — Moments of Depression' — 1 come
of Age — Celebration of the Event' — Mods. Examination
and the Latin Verse Paper— Prince Charlie intervenes—
More Depression— Dinners at the Inner Temple— The old
Bedford Hotel — Evans's

CHAPTER XVIII 187

Vicars and the Syrup of Ginger— The Sacred Barge Pole—
A Bread Riot — The Master objects— I select the Juris-
prudence Schools — Dr Ryott supports my Choice —
Dendy's Lectures — Hunting from Chipping Norton —
Stuart Wortley and the Large Horse — C. C. Rhys and my

CONTENTS ii /

CHAPTER XVIII — continued PAOB

Grey Mare — Silver-tongued Tom Duffield — Entertain-
ments in College — Slapp's Band' — Life out of College —
Dudley Milner — Vixen, a Dog Story

CHAPTER XIX . . . . .196

Joseph Rawlinson Battersby — His Rules — How the York
and Ainsty Men received them — Langar and Ernest
Willoughby— Diffidence of the Bedale Men — John Booth
and his Horses — The great Run from Baldersby Whin
to Newton House — A Red-letter Day indeed— Longbow
on the Swale Embankment— All's Well — More about
Battersby

CHAPTER XX ...... 205

The Distraction of Madame Angot — Patty Laverne —
Final Schools— The Class List— A Fellow of All Souls-
Divinity Examination — Late Degrees — Vicars and his
Class List— Sir Charles Dodsworth — King Lud's Race for
the Alexandra Plate — End of the Oxford Period — Why
moralise about it ?

CHAPTER XXI ..... 214

The Cobham Stud, 1874— My First Visit— York and Don-
caster — Apology and Lily Agnes — Prince Charlie's Last
Triumph — Life in Town — In a Pleader's Chambers —
Claremont wins the 2000 Guineas — First Sight of Galopin
— A Night at Cremorne — Sir Charles Dodsworth deter-
mined to bet — Great Result — I become a Director of the
Cobham Stud — The Purchase of Doncaster and Marie
Stuart prevented by a Solicitor — A London Season —
Sandown Park

CHAPTER XXII . . . . .227

Cobham Stud Bodming — Kisber's Derby — Divinity
Examination — Jester II. at Limmers' Hotel — His Type
changed — A true Fox-terrier — The Beginnings of San-
down Park— Lord Charles Ker — Sir Wilford Brett — The
VivandiSres— Sale of Maximilian at Cobham — Hume
Webster comes in — Something about him — My Wedding
— Pipers made me forget my Money— I go away without
it— Sandown Park Manager to the Rescue— Hats off for
Craig Millar's Doncaster Cup— New Year's Eve and ,
Punch — Morning and the Bar Examination — Called to
the Bar nevertheless

12 CONTENTS

CHAPTER XXIII ..... '238

Northallerton Sessions — "Skiddy" — Judging Terriers at
the Crystal Palace — Tom Fitzwilliam — Curiosities of the
N.E. Circuit— Samuel Danks Waddy — Mathew Dawson
and Lord Falmouth at Newmarket— Silvio's Great Trial —
Glorious Year for Blair Athol — Cobham Stud in excelsis —
Buying Mares from John Porter — Lured to Leeds— Left
at Leeds— Cobham neglected— Money Losses — Trouble
brewing — Ten per Cent. Dividend but no Money' — Russo-
Turkish War — Disraeli — Position of the Stud Company
Ltd.

CHAPTER XXIV . . . . .251

A General Meeting of the Stud Company Ltd. — My Effort
to save the Company — Frustrated — Disastrous Change of
Auctioneer — Liquidation — Final Sale — All Debts paid —
Shareholders get Nothing — Work at the Bar— The Thirsk
Election Petition — How I was instructed — The Teetotal
Witness and the "Old Jamaica "—Evidence of Tom
Palliser — His Wrath against Mr Justice Denman — "A
singularly pure Election " — Origin of the Fox-terrier Club
— Judging at Nottingham — Difficulties accumulate

CHAPTER XXV . . . . .262

Fresh Work— The Staff Corps and Indian Army Fund—
Blair Athol (the book)— The Whitehall Review— Edward
Legge — My First Mentor in Journalism — I attract
Willoughby May cock — Death of Lord Beaconsfield —
Gladstonian Disasters — Mrs Langtry— Belt v. Lawes—
Great Scene in Court — -I make Belt's Acquaintance —
Friends from that Day — Iroquois and Pincus — End of the
old Whitehall Review— I start St Stephen's Review

CHAPTER XXVI . . . . .272

St Stephen's Review— A Desperate Adventure — Never sub-
sidised by the Party— Less than ^500 Capital— Mr
Grantham, Q.C., a Director— Photographs reproduced in
Germany — -Lord Marcus Beresford and Mr George Lamb-
ton — Others who wrote — Mr Gladstone advertises us —
How we followed this up — Mr Gladstone's £\oo — Mr
Joseph Chamberlain's ^250 — Beauty Competition — A
Libellous Sub-Editor—He libels my Friend, Edward
Legge— Mr Grantham advises— We lose heavily— First
Meeting with Phil May

CHAPTER XXVII . . . . .285

Tom Merry's Cartoons — The Rake's Progress — Lord
Salisbury's Appreciation — St Stephen's Saturnalia — Great

CONTENTS 13

CHAPTER XXVII— continued PAOB

Work by Phil May — Death of Gordon — Defeat of the
Gladstonian Government — -Joy of Lord Randolph1 — •
Great Scheme for Provincial Papers — Lord Randolph
President — Grievous Disappointment — Lord Randolph
and Titles — Breakdown of Provincial Scheme' — Collapse of
Stoke Park Club — Phil May leaves for Australia— I save
St Stephen's Review

CHAPTER XXVIII . . . . -295

The First Eclipse Stakes — Scenes from the Irish Re-
bellion— Percy Reeve — The Taming oj the Shrew— The
Election our Zenith — Great Days— Col. McMurdo— The
Delagoa Bay Railway- — Resignation of Lord Randolph —
Spiritualism and Charles Peace — The Middlesex Magi-
strates libelled — A Crown Prosecution— I visit America—
The Appalachian Mine — Racing in the States — Hanover
— James R. Keene — Leonard Jerome — A Thirsty Day-
Return to England

CHAPTER XXIX . . . . .306

Scintillae Juris — First Impression of Mr Justice Darling — I
assist at his First Election — The Consequences — Contempt
of Court — Bradlaugh and H. H. Asquitb — Admonition of
Mr Justice Hawkins — Result of the Crown Prosecution1 —
Further Troubles — Prosecuted at Bow Street and the v
Old Bailey for Libel— Found Guilty— The Conviction
quashed — Civil Action for the same Libel — Verdict that
it is no Libel at all — Costs irrecoverable — ^1500 sacrificed

CHAPTER XXX . . . . . 317

Recollections of Romano's — "The Squire" and his
Satellites— Colonel North's Fancy Dress Ball— Return of
Phil May— Splendid Work— Phil May at his Best— A great
Christmas Number — Phil May's Methods- — Invention of
The Parson and the Painter— The Hansard Union Fight —
An Unsought-for Combat— How it was fought — Bubbles-
Horatio Bottomley, a John Bull Fighter— The Publishing
Trade warned— The Fire-Escape and Parnell — The
Hansard Union killing St Stephen's before its own Demise
— I clear out

CHAPTER XXXI . . . . .331

Lord Salisbury's Valediction — Phil May, 10 Downing
Street— Dark Days— Appreciation of Horatio Bottomley
—Success of The Parson and the Painter— A New Artist I
—How not to write a Novel— With Phil May at New-

14 CONTENTS

CHAPTER XXXI— continued PAOE

market — More Financial Trouble — Colonel North Steeple-
chasing at Lingfield — What to do next ? — The Special
Commissioner — Am well received — Good Company —
William Easton and the December Sales — Arrange a Sale
in U.S.A. — The International Horse Agency and Exchange
develops New Life

CHAPTER XXXII . . . . .341

The James R. Keene Commission — The International
Horse Agency and Exchange Ltd. Sales in France — •
Successes continue — The Musket Blood — Carbine and
Trenton — • Cobham again — The Sporting League — Pur-
chase of Merman — He wins the Cesarewitch — Good Men
I have known — Meeting Trenton and Carnage at Sea —
Phil May and Strachan Davidson — Other Cobham
Horses — Collar — Retrospect — Worth of Racing and the
British Thoroughbred

ILLUSTRATIONS

W. ALLISON, 1917 . . . . Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

VV. ALLISON AND OTHERS, RUGBY, 1868 . . 114

LEE- WARNER AND OTHERS, RUGBY, 1869 . .128

SIR ALMERIC FITZ-ROY, OXFORD, 1872 . . . 148

ARTHUR BLACKWOOD AND BLISTER, OXFORD, 1893 . 160
LINDSAY SMITH AMD W. ALLISON, OXFORD, 1872 . 164
W. ALLISON AND VIXEN, OXFORD, 1873 . .194

LONGBOW ....... 200

SIR WILFORD BRETT AND THE SANDOWN PARK

VlVANDIERES ..... 232

DEATH OF CASSIM BABA AND HASSAN . . . 286

JOY OF LORD RANDOLPH .... 288

PHIL MAY SAILED FOR AUSTRALIA ON WEDNESDAY THIS

WEEK ...... 292

POLITICS FOR THE NURSERY . . . .318

From St Stephens Review, November 30, 1889

POLITICS FOR THE NURSERY .... 322

From St Stephen's Review, December 21, 1889

"BUBBLES" ...... 326

From St Stephens Review, August g, 1890

POLITICS FOR THE NURSERY .... 330

From St Stephens Review, February i, 1890

POLITICS FOR THE NURSERY . . . . 334

From St Stephen's Review, February 8, 1890

PROLOGUE

Being Preliminary Information for Opponents of Racing — How
I became interested in Bloodstock and Racing in Early
Days — How I indulged in Betting — The Kingcraft " Orgy '-' —
Birmingham Dog Show preferred to " Smalls '•' — Beaten for
'- Mods.£> by Prince Charlie

MANY people have often urged me to write
reminiscences, but I have felt personally dis-
inclined to do so, until the discovery that my
sister had preserved practically all the letters I ever
wrote to her in young days has led me to reconsider the
position, for these letters contain a great deal of matter
which may prove of general interest if only I can dis-
criminate among them rightly, and without thought of
myself, to whom they are all interesting.

At the very outset I am going to give the opponents of
racing what they may think chapter and verse as proof
conclusive of the disastrous influence of the love of horses
on a promising career. Later on, I shall show that all
such inferences are entirely fallacious ; but for the moment
I make them a present of the following brief record.

"W" CANNOT cure him, do ' vat I can ' \" Such was
the remark of William or Henry Stebbing, made in

JL my presence, in the summer of 1857, when I, a very
small boy indeed, with my father and mother and the late
Mr Joseph Arrowsmith, of Sowerby, Thirsk, accompanied
also by Mr Simpson (a Proctor of York) and his wife,
were in the stables on Hambleton, and Mr Simpson, as
self-sufficient men will do, had walked up to a horse in
one of the stalls and narrowly escaped being lifted to the
ceiling by a vigorous kick. The horse was, however,
roped and chained from every side, and he screamed.
B 17

i8 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

roared and kicked in such frenzy at having been touched
that the memory of him has always been a vivid one in my
mind, though I was only six years old at the time. The
Stebbing who made the ridiculous remark quoted above
was a big, stout man, and it probably was William, as he
appears in the Calendar as the owner of Vatican. William
Day, in one of his books, states that the Stebbing brothers
were anything but practical horsemen, and it may well
have been so, for never in present times is a horse so mis-
managed as to become such a savage as Vatican then was.
They had actually gone to the length of having him
blinded by a vet. from Thirsk : but so absolutely did he
establish his reign of terror that they destroyed him in
1859. Why we were on Hambleton to see him I do not
know, but inasmuch as the very last of Vatican's foals was
one bred by Mr Arrowsmith out of a mare called Pessima
(G. S. B., vol. ix.) and foaled in 1860, the same mare
having had foals by Vatican in 1857 and 1858, it is safe to
infer that her owner was instrumental in taking us all
there to see the horse.

I can fix the approximate date of the visit, for I have
come across a letter from Mr Simpson to my father, dated
4th July 1857, in which there is the following : —

Mrs Simpson unites with me in very kind regards to Mrs Allison,
yourself and the children, and in the hope soon to avail ourselves
of your kind invitation for us to visit you.

Believe me, my dear sir, ever, yours sincerely,

THOMAS SIMPSON.

Vatican was foaled in 1846, and he was among the best
of his year. Moreover, he raced until he was six years
old, with considerable success. Such as he was, however,
when I saw him, he represents my first abiding memory of
a thoroughbred horse, and might perhaps be regarded as a
deterrent.

But I used always to be in a carriage with my mother
at Thirsk Races, and see George Thompson, Tom Spence
and other notables ride for the Hunt Cup and the Silver Cup.
Vatican and the horror of him served but as an episode.

LORD CLIFDEN WINS 19

Now read the following, undated, but written in
September, 1863, from Coxwold Vicarage : —

DEAR POLLY,

I suppose you know the winner of the St Leger, but
supposing you don't, I will tell you: Lord Clifden first, Queen
Bertha second, Borealis third. Lord Clifden didn't start until
they had got two hundred yards, and one old gentleman said:
" A hundred to one that he is nowhere," but he won quite easily.
Your affectionate brother, WILLIE.

The following year was Blair Athol's, which drove us all
mad on the subject of racing, but I have written so very
much about Blair Athol at various times that I will let
this most glorious of all horses pass on the present occasion.

I went to a preparatory school at Rugby the following
year, and from there wrote as follows : —

OAKFIELD HOUSE,

May zgth 1865.
DEAR POLLY,

If you have an account of the Derby send it to me, for
I have not been able to get a paper. I was top of the class last
week and I think I shall be second this week. I can beat all the
class but one boy and I can beat him in everything but French.
We have cricket matches every holiday. There is not a nasty
boy in the school.

There is a small boy being thrashed on the table at present, so
I cannot write very well. Is there good fishing now ?
My love to all.

W. ALLISON.

I must clearly have been not unpopular at that time —
at any rate, it is obvious I had not been dealt with after
the manner of the " small boy on the table," with whom
I seem to have had no sympathy.

Now comes a letter which to some minds will suggest
the facilis descensus :

RUGBY, June 1869.
MY DEAR POLLY,

Now in the first place I want the Calf money and IDS.,
as I have got Kirby's puppies and have paid for them, advancing

20 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

the £2, 53. until you remit. By so doing I have left myself
destitute. As a general thing I have kept myself most opulent
by judicious betting. I backed Scottish Queen for the One
Thousand, and Pretender for the Derby. By the last transaction
I won £3, i os. from Mr Denman, but lost £i, zos. of it by back-
ing Scottish Queen for the Oaks. Altogether, however, I have
cleared a nice round sum and paid all my bills, save one, and
that, the man, being of a mild and gentle disposition, has neglected
to send in although I told him to do so.
Yours affectionately,

W. ALLISON.

Scottish Queen was backed solely because she was by
Blair Athol. Mr Denman, referred to above, was a well-
known commission agent and originator of a " system "
which for a time worked well.

Now, so far, the moral decadence which is supposed to
result from betting had not got hold of me, for this is the
last report of me written by good old Dr Temple when lie
quitted the headmastership of Rugby to become Bishop
of Exeter :

RUGBY
SIXTH FORM
Report jov term ending Xmas 1869

ALLISON
Doing very well.

In all ways satisfactory, but I fear that his health keeps him
much back. F. EXON.

As to the health question, more anon, and I pass to
what the " unco guid " might deem a dreadful outbreak :

RUGBY, June 1870.
DEAR POLLY,

I dare say you don 't know who won the Derby — in which
case I may as well tell you that Kingcraft did, to the utter astonish-
ment of everybody and the great delight of me, who had put a
small sum on him a month or two ago at remunerative odds and
won £20, which, minus commission, came to £19, 23. He is the
only horse I backed and so I lost nothing.

In consequence we had an orgy last night in honour of King-
craft. There were, as usual, five of us, and we had a beautiful

THE KINGCRAFT ORGY 21

piece of salmon at 23. pd. a pound, lamb, green peas and young
potatoes, a magnificent ice pudding, which is, I think, the best
dish of the kind there is, combining all the merits of a trifle
with those of ices. We finished up with pine apples and had a
capital brew of claret cup.

After Prayers we went to Holden's room, and commenced a
grand squirting match with garden syringes, which we had got
for various purposes.

Still and I were attacking Stuart Wortley, and perfectly drenched
him, when suddenly Still got in between S. W. and me just as I
was squirting. Of course he received the contents in the nape
of the neck.

He then thought I had turned against him, and instantly with
S. W. made at me. My squirt was empty, and there was no more
water. I fled out of the room door into the passage, which was
quite dark excepting for the light coming from the room.

About three yards from the door I came violently in contact
with someone, insomuch that I knocked my squirt out of my
hand, and sent the person staggering against the whitewashed wall.
The next moment I saw it was Mr Elsee, and fled, before I was
distinguished, round the corner. Still, however, thought the
figure was me ; and, bent on vengeance, with a triumphant shout
of " Hi ! " he discharged the whole contents of a large garden
syringe into the face of Mr Elsee. He then saw who it was and
rushed past him and escaped to where I was. Stuart Wortley
was the only one he made out, and we heard him say : " Stuart
Wortley, there are limits to these follies ! "

Then Stuart Wortley also fled. We heard him come striding
after us round the passages, but as, of course, he thought it un-
dignified to run, we escaped him and were soon in bed. The
worst of it was, as we went round the passages with him in pursuit,
we could not help bursting out into fits of laughter. He has not
as yet said anything, and I dare say he will not, but whatever
he does say or do will be more than compensated by the sport we
had. I don't think I ever laughed so much in my life.

Yours affect.

W. ALLISON.

P.S. — I have saved £5 from the general wreck and sent it to
Tom to pay various dog expenses.

It might be thought from the above that Kingcraft's
Derby victory was fraught with evil consequences for
some of us, but Stuart Wortley is now Lord Stuart of
Wortley, and never took to gambling, while Still is one of

22 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

the best known and most highly respected of London
solicitors. Yet they did these things, and I think the
incident, as recorded, speaks very well for our house-
master, Mr Elsee, better known as " Bull." Not even
Sir Isaac Newton, when his dog, Diamond, upset the
candle on his manuscripts, spoke with more perfect self-
restraint.

There is a good deal more in the story, however, than is
disclosed in my letter. My sister is four years older than
I am, and it would seem that I did not venture to tell her
the whole truth, which was that we put £5 on Kingcraft
for the Derby at 4 to i before the 2000 Guineas of that
year, and it was not until after he was so badly beaten for
that race that he retired to " remunerative odds."

The £5 was acquired in the following way : — I was busy
writing Latin verses in my study one evening, and there
were present three or four of the usual set. We were all
hard up, but it was known that my guardian, Mr Joseph
Arrowsmith, already mentioned, would send me money
whenever I asked for it : so then one or other of them
wrote a letter to him, asking for a remittance of £15 and
passed it to me to sign, which I did without a moment's
hesitation. It was posted and despatched and, sure
enough, by return of post there came the £15, with a letter
addressing me as " Dear Sir " and enclosing a form of
receipt with stamped, directed envelope for return.

We were more or less like the early Christians and had
all things in common in those days, so that the only rights
of ownership I exercised consisted in taking the £5 to
send to George Crook at Boulogne, to back Kingcraft,
leaving us £10 to go on with, which was enough in all
conscience. When Kingcraft was so badly beaten for
the 2000 Guineas the idea of his winning the Derby was
dismissed, and on that Derby afternoon I was again
writing Latin verses, when my friends rushed in to say
Kingcraft had won.

I hate interruption when I am busy writing, and, not
for a moment believing them, drove them wrathfully

RUGBY AND THE SPORTSMAN 23

from my study. But Kingcraft had indeed won, so that
we got not merely the £19, 2s. as mentioned in the letter
but the £5 stake back again, and that, added to the £10
already in hand, made up £34, 2s., a goodly sum indeed
when you are at school.

I must, in further justice to Mr Elsee, add here that he
never said another word about the events recorded, but
he did send for me shortly afterwards and say : " I am
told that you take a sporting paper for purposes of
betting. I must request you to desist from doing so."

That was all he said, and it was quite true that I did
take The Sportsman in those days, but not for purposes
of betting — in which I never had any real interest — but
to read the articles of " The Special Commissioner," good
old Fred Taylor. How little did \ dream then that I
should one day occupy his place !

Now, shortly before this time, had come in a report
from Doctor Hayman, the then headmaster of Rugby,
and I never saw it until the other day :

RUGBY SCHOOL

SIXTH FORM
Report for Easter Term 1870

ALLISON

I think he might put forth more power, even after every
allowance on the score of health has been made. His Tutor finds
it difficult to get him to work as if interested. This will hardly
do for Balliol. — Unpunctual.

HENRY HAYMAN.

I have nothing to say about the above report just now,
for I am furnishing the anti-racing people with a brief,
and have my own explanations to make later on.
Another letter from Balliol Callege, dated 5th December
1870, to my sister, says :

When I went to the Dog Show [Birmingham] I, of course,
forgot to put my name down for " Smalls," and consequently
cannot go in for them until the end of next term. This is really
all for the best as I should have been ploughed this term to a
certainty.

24 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

Yet even before that period there is a letter written
from Balliol College on soth October 1870 :

DEAR POLLY,

It seems that you and Tom nearly won much money
the other day. I did win, though it was only the sum of £3.
Still, that is better than losing. I also went out one day with the
intention of backing Bonny Swell for a place — I should have
got 25 to i — but I unfortunately forgot, and the next day was
too late. Of course he did get a place.

My scout and I were both of opinion that Adonis would win,
and are now both of opinion that Syrian will win the Liverpool
Cup.

Now I will lead the opponent of racing a stride or two
further and leave him to digest this Prologue, which, I
warn him, will not ultimately work out to his own satis-
faction. I find a letter of I7th March 1871 :

DEAR POLLY,

The Term is now well nigh over and I am at present
engaged in the arduous occupation of passing, or endeavouring
to pass " Smalls." I have done one paper (Euclid) and do not
think I am ploughed as yet. But there are several more horrid
ones impending and the issue is doubtful.

Friday.

I am through " Smalls " all right, and was even compli-
mented on the excellence of my papers — a thing which is very
rare. We had the hardest arithmetic paper there has been for
some time, and I only just managed to avoid getting ploughed.

We pass on to 1872, and I present the anti-racing man
with the following awful example : —

If there was ever anything in which I was pre-eminent,
it was in the writing of Latin verses — a most useless
accomplishment, but my own in those days — and to prove
what the strength of it was I give the record of results
of an examination at Rugby in the winter term of
1868, prior to which time I had been absent for nearly
a year.

VlTH FORM

MARKS OF EXAMINATION

Latin

Latin

Latin

Name

Prose

Verse

Unseen

Warner, ma. W. .

102

126

129

Allison

102

150

99

Wilson

82

77

102

Stuart Wortley .

98

119

108

Stevenson

73

107

75

Masterman .

95

80

129

Gilbert

68

7i

i°5

Bonham-Carter, ma. J.

79

—

90

Shirley

72

135

18

Lean, ma. G. S. .

71

137

105

Arnold, ma. W. T.

76

90

108

Hannen

47

—

63

Campbell, mi. C. .

56

—

90

Lushington, ma. T. G. .

96

121

87

Bailward

71

109

90

Wauton, ma. H. G.

50

60

90

Robertson, ma. J. M.

62

3<>

Holden

77

94

abs.

Westfeldt, ma. G. R. .

58

9i

De Bunsen .

53

in

9i

Lefroy, ma. F.

76

60

75

LOWER

BENCH

Walton, ma. F. .

75

90

81

Watkins

76

68

108

Williamson, ma. R. J. .

49

70

93

Yorke

83

48

66

Forster, mi. F. S.

73

47

84

Lester, mi. H. F.

73

70

72

Barrington .

72

57

96

Thompson .

64

75

54

Bayley

57

47

75

Bolton, ma. W. H.

70

45

4i

Norton

abs.

40

abs.

Worthington

7i

65

105

Clough

50

17

72

Janion

78

37

57

Moss, ma. F. B. .

66

7°

42

Riley, ma. H.

75

58

78

Michell

73

77

84

Venables

78

47

63

The Twenty

Steel

75

81

123

Kennedy

56

68

66

26 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

The Latin verse * pre-eminence in the above record is
sufficiently obvious, but my dear, good housemaster,
Dr Jex Blake, afterwards Dean of Wells, wrote, many
years later, when sending me a testimonial :

I should expect that his remarkable skill in composition dis-
tinguishes him still.

This, with other complimentary allusions to myself,
which it is needless to mention.

Now comes the tragedy — for if I ever loved anything
in literary work it was the writing of Latin verses, and I
was a real craftsman at it. I don't mind saying so, for,
after all, what did it amount to, much though I thought
of it then, as did Dr Jex-Blake, who taught me to fairly
delight in the rhythm and poise of Latin words ?

We come now to my examination for Mods, at Oxford
in 1872, and I suppose there never was anyone more
certain to get a First than I was, but, whoever you are,
you must, of course, do all your papers properly.

The one absolutely convincing paper I could have done
was the Latin Verse one, which confronted us at 2.30 P.M.
on the 2Qth May 1872. It was the Derby Day, and Prince
Charlie, son of my beloved Blair Athol, was running. He
had won the 2000 Guineas and — well, I know I was a fool
— but I could write no Latin verses while thinking about
what was going on at Epsom, and I left the room within
the first hour to find what had won the Derby. Not only
had Prince Charlie not won, but he was unplaced, and it
was indeed pain and grief to me to know I could not go
back into the examination room and tackle those Latin
verses.

That is how I got only a Second in Mods.

CHAPTER I

Early Days and Antecedents — Curiosities of Kilvington — The
Drink Habit — How the Church was run — The wonderful
new Rector — What he thought of me — Death of the Prince
Consort

A FEW brief personal details may be necessary,
though they are not interesting. I»was born at
Kilvington, near Thirsk, on 3Oth April 1851. My
father, the late John Pick Allison, was the son, by a second
marriage, of William Allison of Foxbury, in the north of
Yorkshire, who was born so long ago as 1766. I never saw
my grandfather, but he must have been a courageous man,
for he was fifty-two when he married my grandmother,
who was a maiden lady of forty-three. She was a Miss
Pick, of the family whose name is familiar in connection
with early turf records. My father was the only child of
this marriage, but there was a considerable family by the
first marriage of my grandfather. These, as the manner
is, regarded the second marriage unfavourably, and my
father and his mother had a bad time of it when the old
man died.

It would be needless to dilate on this point, but I have
come across a letter written to my father by the Rev. Mr
Heslop, of Forcett, near Richmond, on 6th December 1853,
in reference to the death of his uncle, Henry Allison, of
Foxgrove, and this not only illuminates the position, but
is of considerable general interest as a sample of old-time
correspondence.

That Mr Heslop was an old man at the time of the letter
is obvious from the handwriting and from the constant
employment of capitals for all the nouns that he uses.
His thoughts and style are almost of the eighteenth
century, but he was clearly a staunch champion of my
27

28 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

father, and I have verified the reference that the funeral
of Henry Allison was at Stanwick Church on the date
named. As to any thought of legacy-hunting, so far as
" Uncle Harry " was concerned, I quote the following
extract from a letter written by my father to my mother
before they were married : —

I have received a letter from my brother's clerk this morning,
and he says that my old Uncle Harry is seriously ill. It is lucky
I did not go to see him, as he would have thought I had gone
for what I could get in the shape of a legacy, which anyhow he
will never leave me.

FORCETT, Dec. 6th 1853.
MY DEAR SIR,

I received your letter of the 3rd Instant ; and not
doubting but that the entry of your Uncle's Death having taken
Place, as represented in The Yorkshire Gazette, would be com-
municated to you by your Relatives at White House as correct,
and that you would have an early Invitation to attend his Funeral
to-day, the 6th, at St John's, I thought it unnecessary to trouble
you with an earlier answer, in the Hope of seeing you after the
Interment of the Corpse. As however the Funeral has taken
Place to-day, and you have not called here after the Interment,
I begin to apprehend that, for some cause or other, you may not
have been asked to attend. If this Liberty of attending your
Uncle's Funeral have not been granted you by your Brothers
and Sisters to see your Father's Brother laid in his grave, it is a
Proof of an unfeeling Heart and of an uncharitable Disposition.
Tho' it may perhaps have entered their minds that your steady and
upright Conduct might induce your Uncle to leave you a Legacy,
which would reduce theirs ; yet, tho' you do not stand in Need
of such a Legacy, it shows in them an avaricious and overbearing
Disposition. Your chief wish, I feel assured, has been to pay due
Respect to the memory of the Deceased, your Father's Brother,
by wishing to see him laid in his grave, and if you have been
denied this Privilege by your Brothers' and Sisters' Neglect or
want of Prudence in giving you an opportunity to do it, they
have shown no marks to you of brotherly or sisterly Feelings.

I, at the desire of your Uncle, visited him and read Prayers to
him a few Days before his Death, and being composed and sensible,
he seemed much comforted. On the Day of his Death I likewise
was on my Road to visit him, but when I had proceeded a little
Way beyond East Layton, I got to hear that he was no more, and
therefore I returned Home again. In consequence, I suppose,

MY ANTECEDENTS 29

of my having visited him, I received an Invitation to attend his
Funeral on Tuesday, the 6th Instant, at half -past 9 o'clock, but
being unwell, I sent a note to the Executors (whose names I
at present know not) to desire they would excuse my absence,
for the above Reason.

The Procession I viewed as it passed through this village to
the Church at Stanwick, the Place of Interment. There was
a great number of Carriages, and many of the neighbouring
farmers on Horse Back, in the Rear.

I should be much grieved to hear that you have been deprived
(by the absence of an Invitation to the Funeral from your Relatives
at White House) from attending to pay your last Respects to
the memory of your Uncle.

Whatever offence you may have given them, and I feel assured
you know of none, it would not justify them on this occasion
to prevent you from following the Remains of your dear Father's
Brother to their earthly Place of Rest. Such conduct on their
Part, if known to the public, will to them bring Disgrace but to
you, under such Treatment, it will gain you Sympathy as well
as Esteem.

Let this be your consolation — that you have endeavoured to live
with them on the Terms of brotherly Love, and if they think that
you have occasion for their Assistance, at any Time, to cause you
to submit to their ill Treatment, then, to convince them, by your
reputable station in Life, that you have no need of their Assistance,
but rather of their manifesting a more friendly Spirit to you.

I was truly sorry to hear of poor Mrs Rhodes' sudden Death.
The Fit must have been brought on, I think, by her being agitated
at the parting with her son. She was an amiable and good
woman and I trust her soul is in the Fruition of Celestial Rest
and Happiness.

It will give me great Pleasure to see you if you have business
which may call you this way. My Daughter begs to join me in
kind regards to yourself and Mrs Allison.

I remain, my dear sir, most faithfully yours,

WM. HESLOP.

Within a year of the above letter my father obtained
advancement in his profession, as shown by the following
extract from a letter to my mother :

THIRSK, 2nd Oct. 1854.

The Magistrates have given me the appointment of Clerk —
not the firm — me alone. They all came to the office, and Lord
Greenock spoke for them. The duties to commence after the
next Quarter Sessions. J. P. A.

30 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

The half brothers and sisters of my father were all
fairly opulent, but he had to " fend " for himself, and
fortunately he was a very able, resolute man. He
became a solicitor, and at quite an early age had a thriving
business in Thirsk, his partner being Mr Joseph Arrow-
smith, of whom more anon. I have come across an old
letter of my father's written to my mother before they
were married. I would not for worlds quote it here except
just one passage, which shows the manner of man he was.
Referring to a recent meeting, he says :

It made me almost fancy I was in the blissful region of a happier
and less troubled world than this. But it was only transitory,
and as I drew nearer to home, I remembered that I was but a
poor and anxious being, tossed about on the ocean of life, full of
cares and liable to sorrows. Nevertheless, I have so far managed
to get on smoothly and the doing what is right to the best of my
ability encourages in me a hope that fortune will still retain me
as one of her favourites.

The above reads somewhat stilted in these days, but
it was written in the early forties, and it rings true.

I used to think that he preferred my sister to me.
Very likely he did, for she was four years older and more
interesting, but that he thought something of me is
shown by the following curious letters — he very seldom
wrote to me at all : —

THIRSK, nth May 1865.
MY BOY,

What ails you ? Write. D.

All the pets are well.

This was when I was at my preparatory school at
Rugby, and I must have been busy over some examination
and neglected to write home, for I find the following
letter written ten days later : —

THIRSK, 22nd May 1865.
BOY,

Go on, but don't work the brain too much. You do not
know how pleased we are at your success.

THE DRINK HABIT 31

You will soon be home again and there are plenty of rabbits
and fish. Tom wants the rabbits and fish killed, but we will
keep them back. John has become a Teetotaller. The new
horse goes on very well.

We are very busy with the forthcoming election. There is to
be such a row. Jessica, Tompkins and all the rest send their
remembrances, and this is from D.

Do you want anything ?

Jessica and Tompkins, I need hardly say, were two
of " the pets " already referred to. " Tom " was the
village tailor and general factotum. He used from my
very earliest days to accompany me shooting and fishing.
He made my father his first pair of trousers, and he also
made mine. He was seldom sober. His name was
Palliser, and I have seen in the records of the Kilvington
Church Registry that a Thomas Pallacere inhabited
Kilvington in the reign of Queen Elizabeth.

" John " was one John Stillingfleet, who served as a
groom-gardener, and was also much addicted to drink,
but, being unable to live up to the standard of Tom Palliser,
appears to have sworn off altogether at the time when
my father wrote.

As a matter of fact, sober men in the North Riding
were very exceptional at that period. Among my earliest
recollections is hearing the farmers and others driving home
from Thirsk market on Monday evenings. They used
to drive or ride full gallop through Kilvington, all drunk,
and shouting at the top of their voices. None, so far as
I know, ever came to grief.

My mother's maiden name was Whytehead, and her
family has been for very many years well known in
Yorkshire, as also, before that, in Hampshire. It is
described even in Fuller's Worthies as "an ancient and
worshipful family," and I suppose, therefore, I may
fairly claim a Bruce Lowe " figure." I have many of my
mother's letters, but, beautiful as some of them are, I
cannot bring myself to publish a single line of them.

She was always my champion, even when, in earliest

32 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

days, my father had carried me off, screaming and kicking,
to be put to bed for having swung a tame rabbit of my
sister's round by the tail. I well deserved more severe
punishment, and I remember the occasion, though I
cannot have been more than six years old, but my mother,
who was away at the time in the village, was most in-
dignant when she returned, and at once had me retrieved
from bed and sent off on the donkey to Thirsk to buy
sweets. This will give some idea as to the method of
my rearing, and will throw a first light on after results
which the anti-racing cranks naturally ascribe to racing
alone.

Kilvington in the " fifties " was a strange place indeed.
The little old church was very primitive. The floor was
earth, and a plank up the aisle enabled the congregation
to make their way to their seats. Bones sometimes flew
out on each side of the plank as a brisk walker stepped
along. The rector's name was Henson, and he had
married his cook. We, through some privilege, had a
box pew in the chancel, and immediately opposite it
was a similar pew, called the " singing-pew." This was
never occupied except when the time came for a psalm
or hymn to be sung. Then the Parish Clerk, Tommy
Ware, a large and ponderous man, used to quit his place
under the reading-desk and proceed to this pew, accom-
panied by three or four men of the congregation. No
women or boys were allowed in the pew. A barrel organ
stood in the chancel, in the middle of the aisle, not six
yards from the altar. It played about twelve tunes,
and another large man, named Joe Morrell, used to walk
from his place to play it. Tommy Ware read loudly the
first line of each verse, thus :

" Aa-waake, ma sowl, and with the Sun " !

and then they would all go off in unison at the top of
stentorian voices to the end of that verse, accompanied
by the barrel organ. Then came a pause for the reading
of another line, and at the conclusion Tommy Ware would

THE tfEW RECTOR 33

step out of the singing-pew, hymn-book in hand, while
still bringing out the last note, his mouth open so wide
and square that, as my father used to say, you could
throw a brick into it. I can see him now as he appeared
on those occasions, for he was within a yard or two of our
pew.

Mr Henson died, and was succeeded, in 1859, ^Y tne ^ev-
William Towler Kingsley, B.D., one of the most remarkable
men of the past century, and he was over one hundred
and one years of age when he died, on 3rd July 1916.

Kilvington is a College living and Mr Kingsley was
a Fellow of Sydney Sussex College, Cambridge. He was
like a fish out of water at first in Kilvington, but he did
away with the barrel organ forthwith and Tommy Ware
had to sing as best he could without it. The good man
knew the tunes of the old organ, but he was never quite
sure of the verse metre that would fit them, and often I
have heard him start a tune that overlapped, so to
speak. Then he would stop and say : " Noa, that wean't
do. We mun hev a fresh go ! "

Another tune from the limited repertory would then
be tried, probably with success.

In due course, the village blacksmith, Bob Gowland,
a burly man who played the clarionet, was admitted to the
singing-pew to give them a lead, and after the reading of
the first line he would sound the keynote, and then
accompany them with elaborate flourishes, which we used
to hear him practising outside his cottage on Saturday
nights. Like the other inhabitants, he was given to
drink, but that was thought nothing to his discredit in
those days.

I have stated above that Mr Kingsley was a remarkable
man, and so he was. Had he not been very deaf, there
was no limit to what he might have done. It has been
written of him by one who knew him well : " He was of
the sort that does things ; not of the talking crew. He
was a true artist and did nothing that he did not do well.
His practical efficiency was amazing. He was a fisherman

34 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

who could make his own rods, as well as tie his own flies.
He was a sailor who could build his own boats and sail
them, not on a pond, but in the Portugal seas or round
Achill. He was a carpenter who could finish his own
village school floor or build the organ in his church.
He was a carver in wood who could temper his own tools,
and did so by the dining-room fire. He was a practical
gardener who knew all there is to know about grafting.
He was a mathematician of the old type, interested mainly
in perspective, and other departments of accurate draughts-
manship, which he made very useful to the British Army
in the early days of big guns at Woolwich and Shoebury-
ness. He was a science man of the old days, when
there were few books and little apparatus. He was
one of the earliest examiners (1858) for the Natural
Science Tripos, which started in 1851. He was an
enthusiastic daguerreotypist, and was one of the first
star-photographers. I understand he was the very first
person to photograph on to a block, for engraving and
publication in a book."

The above and much else is perfect truth about this
extraordinary man, who was a cousin of Charles Kingsley,
and an intimate friend of John Ruskin and J. W. M.
Turner.

I have always regretted that my father did not live
long enough really to appreciate him, but it is easy to
understand how a college don of abnormal abilities,
dumped suddenly down in a village like Kilvington,
would not at first quite hit it off with a man who had
until then been supreme in the little community.

One occasion of annoyance I remember well, when
Mr Kingsley took it into his head that he would like to
give my sister and myself gratuitous tuition in the morn-
ings. We had up to that point been taught by a governess,
but this offer was naturally enough accepted, and I can
recall the period when this teaching used to go on, for
one morning my mother, who had been to Thirsk, came
into the Rectory, while we were being taught, with the

MR KINGSLEY'S BLUE PENCIL 35

news that the Prince Consort was dead. That was on
1 4th December 1861.

Mr Kingsley preferred girls to boys, and he persuaded
himself that he could make my sister read Homer and
attain to other lengths of erudition; but for me he at
that time had not much use, and across some feeble exercise
which I had perpetrated he wrote : " CARELESS AND AS
BAD AS CAN BE," in blue pencil. " Take that," said he,
" and show it to your father ! " I did so, and my father
was extremely incensed — not with me, but with Mr
Kingsley.

The time came, in later life, when the good old Rector
knew me and I him for what we were really worth —
not much in my case, perhaps, but a bit more than his
blue pencil observation had suggested. It is not ten
years since he drove me from Kilvington Rectory to
Thirsk station, with an old chestnut horse, and said, as
I looked at it : " This is not Blair Athol ! "

CHAPTER II

The Treaty of Paris and Death of the Prince Consort — Malt
Liquor, Port, and Agricultural Work — Mr Arrowsmith and
Squire Bell — A Hustings Episode — " Sammy '• Cass — The
Great Mr Rhodes — Tim Whiffler at Thirsk— Thirsk Races —
The Hunt Cup — Martin Gurry wins on Catalogue — Village
Idiots at Kilvington

I HAVE told of my recollection of the death of the
Prince Consort, but I can go back a good deal
further than that, as in the case of Vatican recorded
in the Prologue.

The Treaty of Paris, after the Crimean War, was signed
on 3oth March 1856. News did not travel quite so rapidly
then as now, but -whenever this news reached Yorkshire
I and the late Sir Charles Dodsworth, both of about the
same age, were digging in the sands at Redcar, and there
was suddenly much gun-firing at Hartlepool, in celebra-
tion of the peace. We thought it was the Russians
coming and fled to our respective nurses.

I was a horribly nervous, delicate wretch in those
times, and probably owe much to this day to old Dr
Ryott, of Thirsk, who was quite a marvel for the " grand
manner " and much common-sense, though troubled with
no superfluity of science. " Give the boy plenty of good
malt liquor," he used to say, " and a glass of good Port
in the middle of the morning."

His advice was followed scrupulously, both at home
and when I went to school.

Another trusty friend who helped materially to build
me up was Tommy Wright, the landlord of the " Old
Oak Tree Inn " at Kilvington. He was one of my father's
best tenants, and held a good deal of the land. He was
one of the sort rarely met with now, a real expert in

36

AGRICULTURAL DELIGHTS 37

agricultural labour. For topping up, " skirting " and
thatching a haystack ; for laying a fence well and truly,
or for in any other way doing the best possible in farming
work, Tommy Wright was a champion, and I used to be
allowed to spend whole days with him. He taught me
to plough, with an old horse called Clicker, and another,
until I could drive a straight furrow and turn them and
the plough at the end of it. I could top-and-tail turnips
as well as anybody, and then there was the dear delight
of hay-making, and the harvest, with the joys of
" allowance " tune, when the beer cans used to be seen
coming, and the baskets of bread and cheese, with white
napery about them. The beer was drunk out of tin mugs
or horns, and the bread and cheese was taken anyhow, but
I have never liked any other food or drink so well.

Tommy Wright had a young son, Jack, a great friend
of mine, whom my father later on took into his office as
a junior clerk, but somehow sedentary life did not suit
him, and he died quite young.

At that period there used to be cricket on the village
green on Sunday afternoons — but not, I think, after Mr
Kingsley took charge.

These details, trifling as they are, may serve to give
some slight impression of the place and period, but as to
racing I must note here that my father was not given that
way. He was a first-rate shot as men used to shoot in
those days, over dogs, and a skilled fisherman, but racing
was left to his more opulent half-brothers, of whom Tom
Allison, of White House, in North Yorkshire, had some
success. His colours were scarlet and white cap. Lord
Carnarvon now has the same, with the addition of a blue
collar.

Then, too, Mr Arrowsmith, my father's partner, not
only raced but bred bloodstock. Two of his winners,
Carlton and Trepan, I very well remember, though he
did not race them in his own name, but in that of Mr
" J. Anderson." Trepan, foaled in 1856, won twice at
Thirsk in 1859. He was by Flatcatcher out of Jane Eyre

38 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

by Jerry, and his younger brother, foaled 1858, was
called Mr Rarey.

These horses used to be kept most of their time at
Sowerby and worked on Thirsk race-course, under the
supervision of James Ayton, who, on the death of Tommy
Ware, became Parish Clerk at Kilvington. Such were
" training-grooms " in those days.

Nor was that all, for the late Squire F. Bell, of Thirsk,
who also bred not a few good horses there, had some of
them trained on Thirsk race-course by his coachman,
Swallwell — possibly not up to racing point. I remember
having seen Attache working there, and he won the
Hunt Cup at Ascot in 1866 as a four-year-old, but that
was when Mr J. Angell owned him. He was by Saunterer
out of La Victime by Flatcatcher, her dam La Femme
Sage by Gainsborough. This was an old Thirsk breed,
for La Femme Sage was owned by the better-known John
Bell, the predecessor of F. Bell at the Hall, Thirsk.
Perhaps the best horse Mr F. Bell ever bred was
Kaleidoscope, who was sold as a yearling by the executors,
and I, who was there, was one of the last bidders for him —
but that is another and later story.

An earlier produce of Kaleidoscope's dam was Lingerer,
by Loiterer, and I saw him run at Thirsk for the Mowbray
Stakes, when Syrian won, the same year that Scarrington
won the Hunt Cup, ridden by Tom Spence, who is, I hope,
still alive.

Mr Arrowsmith possessed a mare who used to be spoken
of almost with reverence as " the Venison Mare," so great
was the fame of Venison blood at that time. She was
out of Sally Warfoot by Defence, and it was from
her that he bred, in 1858, Carlton by Turnus. His
naming of the Flatcatcher colt out of Jane Eyre,
foaled that same year, Mr Rarey, was doubtless to show
his opinion of the horse-taming " boom," which Rarey
had about that time created.

It amuses me even now to think of Mr Arrowsmith,
a very florid, middle-sized, round-faced man, with jay-

' ' BRAND Y-FEEACE ! " 39

blue eyes, and a most kindly expression. " Florid,"
perhaps, is hardly the adjective, for there was a tracery
of blue veins amid the rubicund hue of his face. This was
very notably adverted to once on a time when an election
was impending, and the candidates, Sir William Gallwey,
who always was the sitting member, and Sir Harcourt
Johnstone (later Lord Derwent) were on the hustings.
My father and his partner were always the Conservative
agents, and on this particular occasion some very important
member of the party had come down specially to speak.

It was market day, so there was a good audience, but
it was raining, and the chief topic of the moment was
boring to a degree — something about Denominational
Education. The great man held forth at considerable
length on this, and Mr Arrowsmith was standing by him
on the hustings.

Suddenly there came a voice from the crowd :

" Ho'd thy noise, man, and let ord Brandy-feeace have
a go ! "

The effect of this was astonishing, for the speaker
absolutely broke down hi his carefully prepared statistics.
He finished as hastily as he could : but not all the vocifer-
ous calls for " Brandy-feeace ! " could draw a speech from
Mr Arrowsmith.

Ultimately, arguments turned on the everlasting big
and little loaf, of which samples were carried about on
poles. They were torn down by the respective partisans
and mopped in rain and mud, then hurled up at the
hustings, one such missile hitting Mr Arrowsmith full
in the face and bursting innocuously over it, except for
befoulment.

All these things I saw and delighted in. Needless to
say, we were always on the side of Sir William Gallwey,
the Conservative member, and he was never beaten,
though there was a time when he got in by one vote.
There was real sport in those elections.

Mr Arrowsmith used to dine with us at home every
Christmas Day, and, as he came in, he gave my sister and

40 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

myself half-a-sovereign each. This was very welcome
while we were children, but there came a time when we
began to feel ourselves too old for this sort of thing, and,
curiously enough, the same idea seemed to have occurred
to the old gentleman, for he came one Christmas without
his ten shillings presents, and I think we were not
altogether pleased with the omission.

Another sportsman of Thirsk was " Sammy " Cass, the
brewer, but inasmuch as he was the wrong side in politics,
he was outside the pale. He was really a good sportsman,
however, and used to ride his own horses at Thirsk races —
I well remember one called the Jew, on whom he won the
North Riding Farmers' Hunt Cup of two and a half miles
in 1864, having won it the year before on Sky Rocket.
" Sammy Cass wins on the Jew ! " still rings in my
memory as a race-course cry, for he won again on the Jew
in 1865, after something that finished in front of him had
been disqualified and the owner warned off.

Mr Cass owned greyhounds of repute, and won a
Waterloo Cup, but it so happened that some of his grey-
hounds, out at exercise, went for a little pet dog of ours
called Bosky, and the end of that may be imagined. The
idea that such a dreadful thing should have been done
by the greyhounds of a political adversary was almost
intolerable, and I wept bitterly over the death of Bosky.
Yet from a Diary which I kept in 1863 the following
passage shows that I had not passed beyond the primeval
savage or cruel instincts with which we are all born,
until education in the humanities " Emollit mores, nee
sinit esse feros."

The extract is dated 22nd January 1863.

I saw a pig killed this afternoon. The first time it was struck
it broke the rope and got away. It was pulled back and struck
twice, and had its throat cut twice, and then was scalded to
death.

Such miraculous changes come over us in process of
time ! for I, who would not now see a living thing hurt,

TIM WHIFFLER AND BOREALIS 41

if I could help it, was clearly interested in the butchery
of that pig. I remember Bob Gowland, the Kilvington
blacksmith, used to be called in when a pig had to be
killed, and being, as I have said, not of sober habit, he
did not strike with sufficient accuracy when attempting
to fell the poor brute. It is horrible to think of now, but
it is a reminder of what one was.

The really great brewer, however, at Thirsk was Mr
William Rhodes, a portly gentleman who was the back-
bone of the local Conservative party. He was a delightful
old man, with a considerable family, all of whom were
among our best friends. On race days at Thirsk it used
to be pleasant indeed to go and lunch at the Rhodes's,
and I have clearly in mind the Derby rounds of beef which
were a special feature of those functions. No Conservative
politician, of whatever importance, would have dreamed
of going to Thirsk without, in the first place, paying his
respects to Mr Rhodes.

It is strange to recall now that I, who write, saw Tim
Whiffler run as a three-year-old at Thirsk in the spring
of 1862, when he belonged to Jackson, and finished fourth
for the Thirsk Handicap, i mile 6 furlongs. The race
was won by Rapparee, ridden by John Osborne and carry-
ing 8 st. 3 Ib. I remember Rapparee well, a hard, wiry-
looking beast, but Tim Whiffler did not impress himself
on me in the same way. All the same, that was one of
his two defeats out of eleven races that year. His sire,
Van Galen, I used often to see as a travelling stallion when
he was at Thirsk on market days. He was a dark bay
or brown horse.

On the same race day when Tim Whiffler was beaten
at Thirsk, Borealis, two years old, won the Mowbray
Stakes, and this was her first race, she being the first foal
of Blink Bonny. That day too, the Thirsk Hunt Cup,
which was always the most sporting event of the meeting,
was won by Sir George Strickland's Lady Bird, by King
Caradoc, ridden by Mr George Thompson, beating Sir
Charles Slingsby's Mousetrap (owner) and nineteen others.

42 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

They were all half-breds with hunters' certificates, and that
class of race did an immense lot of good to the breed at
large. The National Hunt Rules, later on, destroyed these
races, and no relic of them remains except at Croxton
Park, where a private sweepstake is run on the same
lines.

Another old reminiscence of Thirsk races is the 1864
meeting, when I saw Hypermnestra, a four-year-old black
mare, 6 st. 7 lb., win the Thirsk Handicap for the late
William Anson, beating, among others, her stable com-
panions, Bonny Bell, four years, 7 st. 3 lb., and Old Orange
Girl, four years, 7 st.

Bonny Bell will always be remembered as the dam of
Beauclerc, and Old Orange Girl as the dam of those
lovely fillies, Madge Wildfire and Twine the Plaiden.

That same day when Hypermnestra won, " Sammy "
Cass once more won the North Riding Farmers' Cup on
the Jew, and the Tyro Stakes was won by Mr Leonard
Peckitt's two-year-old filly, Catalogue, by Leamington,
ridden by Martin Gurry. This I remember so well that
I mentioned it to Gurry year before last, without ever
having referred to a Calendar. Gurry was at that time
a boy in Gregory's stable on Hambleton.

The race meeting in those days was supported entirely
by local effort. The member for Thirsk used to give the
Member's Plate. Aspiring politicians, on the other side,
would also endow stakes, and thus it happened that the
North Riding Farmers' Cup of £100 was given by Mr F.
Milbank, a county candidate. It had to be won two years
to retain it, but " Sammy " Cass, his chief supporter in
Thirsk, managed to do that after a successful objection,
as mentioned above.

Children nowadays are so old at such ages as from ten
to twelve that it will seem no wonder at all when they are
able, in due course, fifty years later, to tell what they did
in their youth ; but in my time children associated, for
the most part, with children, and they did not so quickly
become old-fashioned. I have mentioned taking pleasure

VILLAGE IDIOTS 43

in seeing a pig killed, and I ought in justice to myself to
add that I and my sister were very kind to two
young pet porkers, whom we named " Johnny " and
" Jacky."

It was a commonplace request, after doing lessons :
" Please may we go and play with the pigs ! "

Pigs really are intelligent if you handle them kindly,
and all went well with Johnny and Jacky till they grew
big, and then, whichever was mine took fright at some-
thing and knocked me over on hard cobble-stones. I was
partially stunned, and the pig galloped over my prostrate
body. That ended this form of amusement, and the end
of the pigs was not far distant.

Ought I, perhaps, to add here that Kilvington, like
other similar villages, used to possess a village idiot,
a poor woman who went by the name of Silly Bessy ?
She wore a sort of pinafore and a nightcap, and her hands
dangled from the wrists. She was perfectly harmless,
but I was frightened of her. Then there was a younger
reputed idiot, one Ned Sleights, a boy of ten or eleven.
When Mr Kingsley came to the Rectory he tried amusing
his new parishioners with sports. Among other things he
got up a three-legged race for the boys, and Ned Sleights,
having had a leg tied to that of another boy and been
told how they were to race with others round a post
and back, made this singularly sensible observation :

" And if we brek oor legs, how then ? "

Mr Kingsley was so much struck by this that Ned was
from that time forth encouraged to attend church and take
part in the singing. He very soon took a peculiar pride
in this, and once when I saw him on a Sunday afternoon
and said : " Well, Ned, are you going to sing in church ? "
he replied, with a grin : " Aye ! She'll hev te echoa te-
night ! "

And so it happened as a matter of fact.

It should be added here that prominent among the later
singers was Joe Morrell, the sometime barrel organist of
the church. He could not read and so used to bellow

44 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

the tunes in a raucous voice, deputising as best he could
for the banished organ.

The time came when, thanks to Mr Kingsley, there was
a really splendid organ in Kilvington Church, but that
was a good deal later.

CHAPTER III

Christmas at Kilvington — Old Customs — First Visit to London —
The Great Exhibition — Lord Dundreary — The Colleen Bawn
— Early Education — Life at Cundale Parsonage — The first
Ironclads — I armour-plate the Nautilus — " A Coursing
Match " — Cruelty of Boys — Mr Gray beats us — The Making
of Fairyland — A Cold-water Cure — How we celebrated the
Prince of Wales 's Wedding

OUR first pony was a smart little grey called
Jacky, but he was far too much of a handful
for a boy of eight or nine, and after he had
bolted with me several times and projected me into
hedges and other unpleasant places my sister obtained
the monopoly of him for a year or so.

Christmas time was really great in those days : Christ-
mas Eve, with the yule-log, yule cakes and frumenty : the
" waits," of course ; Christmas morning, with the children
at the back door singing out :

I wish you a Merry Kesmas and a Happy New Year,
A pocket full of money and a barrel full of beer,
And a good fat pig as '11 fet you all t' year.

Please will you give me my Christmas Box ?

We used to be provided with copious coppers to dispense
on those occasions.

Then there was church, and Tommy Ware would
announce " the hymn for Kes-mas Day ! "

All Christmas week was a festive time, and you could
not go to any farm-house without being expected to eat
cake and drink home-made wine, or, if you were older,
gin and water. How strange it seems, but whisky was
almost unknown then !

There were always mummers or, as they were called,

45

46 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

" plough stots," who used to come into the house in an
evening and go through the old-world play of St George —
of which the following lines remain in memory : —

Here comes I who never came yet,
With my great head and my little wit ;
Though my head be great and my wit be small,
I'll do my best to please you all !

I saw mummers at Rugby in the early sixties who went
through the same performance with almost the same
words.

Sword-dancers invariably turned up at Christmas and
it was probably far more satisfactory to administer
largess to people who were really doing something to
amuse than in a modern Christmas week, when Christmas
presents are expected by all sorts and conditions of men
as a matter of course. At the time under notice, trades-
men used to send presents to their customers : all manner
of things — boxes of raisins, yule candles, and I know not
what — but Christmas bills were really Christmas bills then,
and in the case of approved customers covered the whole
year. I have often thought that Christmas bills were
brought into special odium by this custom, for under
present conditions a Christmas bill is really no more
urgent or alarming than any other.

I must not dwell unduly on these old memories, and will
pass now to 1862, when I was taken on my first visit to
London, Sir William Gallwey having lent us his house
in Buckingham Gate, together with the servants there.

It was the Great Exhibition year, but to me the idea
of a journey to London seemed something awful. Up
to that time I had been accustomed to a life in which
York, though not twenty miles away, seemed a very
remote place, and if York had to be visited, plans had to
be fully discussed for days in advance.

To go to London was a really appalling adventure, and
I wept in sheer nervousness at the prospect.

LONDON IN 1862 47

However, we got there all right, but to me the horror
was only multiplied, for the noise in the street caused
nightmares of the most terrifying sort, and there was
for the first two or three days some anxiety as to whether
I should not have to be taken home.

I settled down, and in the next few weeks saw more of
London than I have ever seen since. The Exhibition
came first, with the big scented fountain immediately
after you entered. That scent remains very familiar
still. Then, not far from the entrance was a most mag-
nificent, gilded loose-box which Colonel Townley had
had made for Kettledrum, his Derby winner of the
previous year.

We went to Astley's and saw Mazeppa, we went to
the Haymarket and saw Sothern as Lord Dundreary ;
to the Zoo, British Museum, Tower of London, Hampton
Court, with the Maze and monster Vine, the Crystal
Palace, where Blondin was walking high up over the
grounds, and I shut my eyes because his performance was
unbearably dangerous. What a wonder he was, walking
with a bag over his head and baskets on his feet, pretending
to slip and half fall ! It is very strange, but there has
never been but one Blondin, nor anyone with pretensions
to rival him. Even more strange is it that after he had
retired for a number of years and lost his money by an
ill-advised investment in Honduras bonds, he came out
again with the same absolute nerve control as he had in
his early career. There are many who must have seen
him at the Westminster Aquarium in this later stage,
and no one else was ever allowed to ropewalk there
without a net below.

The Colleen Bawn was another of the plays which
my first visit to London recalls, but Sothern as Lord
Dundreary is the best-remembered character, with Buxton
pressing him somewhat closely. I was much interested
in the Royal horses when they came out for exercise from
the Buckingham Palace stables, the house we were in
commanding a full view of such proceedings. No doubt

48 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

we had a very good time, though I was not quite old
enough to appreciate it.

Is my educational process in the slightest degree interest-
ing to a living soul but myself ? I doubt it, but to show
what manner of boy I was I don't mind stating that the
first adventure in getting me taught away from home
was at the day school of a gaunt pedagogue called
Nicholson, who had his schoolroom closely adjacent to
Mr Rhodes's house. He was a man with a bald, bright
head, and very sharp-looking eyes. He used to sit at
a desk with a cane of average size, and one very long one,
with which he could hit boys in all parts of the room
without moving from his place. He never menaced me
in this way and I was located at a table by myself on the
left hand of him, but I was a boy such as, at present,
I should despise, for I was ridiculously nervous and used
to burst into tears if he even looked at me. This method
of teaching was found to be hopeless, and Mr Nicholson
was engaged to come in the afternoons to Kilvington and
do what he could in the way of private teaching : even
so, I was an impossible subject until he had led off with
a game of draughts or something of the sort, and gradually
slid into education. It seems absurd, but it is true, and
so I record the fact. I can see Mr Nicholson, even now,
walking home after such a lesson, carrying a brace of
partridges, which were the frequent perquisites of my
tuition. He taught me the origin of the word whisky,
and a hairdresser, who used to cut my hair, gave early
object lessons in the use of rum.

A little rum, he used to say, was the best possible
stimulant for the scalp, and being provided with rum
he would pour it into the full palm of one hand then pass
that hand with an ecstatic suck past his mouth and apply
the relics of rum to my head. This he would do two or
three times, to his own very great satisfaction.

These seem to be mere trifles, but inasmuch as they
are also truths of a long past day, they may perhaps
possess some little interest even now.

SANDFORD AND MERTON 49

The time came when I went really from home, and this
was into the charge of the Rev. Samuel Gray, at Cundale
Parsonage, which is only about nine miles from Thirsk.

Mr Gray was a tall young man, something of the Mr
Barlow type, but more sensible. His wife was a daughter
of Callcott, the artist, and the only other boy committed
to Mr Gray's control was her young brother Bob, about
the same age as myself. It was in 1862 that I went to
Cundale, and Mr Gray's system of dealing with us was
certainly good, for much of his teaching is fresh in my
memory still. With him I soon lost all nervousness. He
had a judicious method of leading you up to your work.
I quote an illustration of this very briefly from an old
diary which I kept in the early part of 1863 :

Feb. 1863.

This morning, after lessons, we had a paper chase. In the
afternoon we had English history, writing and compo. Then
Mr Gray, Bob and I went out for another paper-chase. I went to
Mr Appleton's and got buried in the straw. This evening we did
our French lessons and then played at Family Coach.

4th March.

This morning we went to the sale for the Lancashire people. It
did not commence until the afternoon. I bought two pictures
and two book markers. This evening there was a Bran pie, for
which we had to pay 3d. a dip. I got a kettleholder and a pin-
cushion. Bob and I rode a donkey home.

However charitably inclined, I appear to have had an
eye to business even at that period, for the very next
day, 5th March 1863, comes the entry :

This morning I got the prize for Caesar, half-a-crown. I also
sold a picture for is. which I bought for 3d.

Mr Gray had really an extraordinary capacity for
interesting one, whether in work or play, and among other
good schemes he used to make us go out into the hall and
read aloud to him while he sat in a room out of sight.

50 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

The point was that we should make him hear every word,
and many are the parsons who would do well to practise
elocution under similar conditions.

The above allusion to " the Lancashire people " touches
the distress among the cotton operatives, in consequence
of the American War, and it may be added here that I
have to thank Mr Gray for what is now a useful habit —
viz. that I want no sugar in tea or coffee. He told us
at the time under notice that it would be good for us to
deny ourselves something for the benefit of the Lancashire
people, and if we would do without sugar in tea or coffee,
he would give us each sixpence a week to send to the fund
which was being raised for these poor people. We agreed
to do so, and the result was that after taking tea without
sugar for a fortnight, nothing would have induced me to
take sugared tea again, but I never told Mr Gray this,
and continued to draw sixpence a week for the Lancashire
operatives as long as I remained with him. The merest
suspicion of sugar in tea is hateful to me to-day.

It may as well be mentioned that the extracts from my
diary are not in any way corrected for publication, so that
I evidently could spell all right when eleven years old,
but here comes a letter to my sister written from Cundale
in 1862, and it should be explained that I had always
not only had a craving for the sea but had developed no
mean skill in making models of ships : my chef d'ceuvre
was a vessel 2 ft. 6 in. long, rigged as a brig, and called the
Nautilus. She was a two-decker, and carried twenty-four
brass guns, which could really be fired, and when these
were all loaded, with a pellet in each, and connected with
a long piece of touch-paper gummed across them, it used
to be pleasant to send the vessel sailing on a duck pond
to fire intermittently at the ducks. Now mark this
extract from the letter :

CUNDALE, 1862.

I am thinking of having the Nautilus iron-plated when I come
home, for it will not only hinder her from cracking (which she
seems inclined to do) but there are to be no more wooden men-of-

THE NAUTILUS 51

war to be made ; those that are being made now have first an
inch of iron, then fifteen inches of oak and on the outside five more
inches of iron. On one of these ships at [sic] America there were
a lot of floating batteries firing away with the largest cannons, but
she passed through them without any men killed. The cannon
balls smash on their sides. Mr Gray says that one of these ships
could come right up to London without being hurt at all.
So I shall plate the Nautilus.

The vessels referred to were, of course, the Merrimac
and Monitor, whose engagements during the American War
caused a world-wide sensation and practically initiated
the era of armour-plating. It seems strange to have lived
at a time when those ships were deemed wondrous novelties
and to be alive and equally interested in all manner of
warships at the present day. The progress has been
indeed marvellous.

The beautiful faith in Mr Gray's knowledge of naval
construction and its possibilities is rather amusing.

It may seem rather incredible that at the age of eleven
I should have produced anything like a decent model of
a two-decker from a block of wood, but I had a good
tool-chest and had spent many hours gaining knowledge
of how to use it from Frank Hudson, the Kilvington
village carpenter. The Nautilus was not an attractive
model, for she was just on the lines of the bluff -bowed
vessels that I saw on visits to Whitby, in the harbour
there, but she was a correct brig as regards masts, sails
and yards. In one of my letters from Cundale, written
in 1862, it is rendered evident that the making of the
Nautilus was wearing out my available supply of tools,
for it ends thus :

When you send the magic lantern, will you send two sharp
chisels, two gouges, a spokeshave and a plane ?

Give my love to everybody and believe me your affectionate
brother. W. A.

It is evident from an entry in the Memoranda of my
Diary for 1863 that the Nautilus had encouraged me to

52 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

further efforts in the same direction, for this memorandum
is:

Want three pieces of wood for ships.

Whether or not three more ships were constructed does
not appear. Probably the American change of naval
designs interfered.

We were not debarred from seeing what we could of
field sports at Cundale, and in the following letter to my
sister is a singularly crude, not to say brutal, description
of my first experience of coursing : —

CUNDALE, i^th February 1863.

I wish you had been here yesterday to see a coursing match. It
was such fun. The first two hares the first dog bit one of their legs
in two ; but falling over in a most insane manner (like Nettle over
the cart rut) the second caught the hare.

But the best of all was a man whom we named Wildfire Sampson,
he is rather insane at times. He rode about the field on a little
pony as hard as he could, all the while shouting and yelling at any-
body he came near ; didn't care for any person, if they didn't
choose to get out of the way he'd run over them ; sometimes nearly
tumbling off : always first down to the place where the hare was
being killed. The common expression was " By Gor ! here
comes Sampson, let me be off ! "

A great many hares got away. One ran so far that a dog who
was chasing it lay down on the road and couldn't go any further.

The letter from which the above is extracted is dated
simply " Cundale I4th," but I get the actual date from
the 1863 Diary, which gives the " coursing match " as
occurring on I3th February in that year.

It is clear that primitive instincts towards blood-letting
and frightfulness were somewhat dominant in us then,
and in confirmation of this I quote the Diary for 28th of
that same February :

Bob and I went to Leckby Carr. Arminson Bland shot two
sparrows whilst we were there, Bob bought them for a penny.
This afternoon we had a cat hunt, and then walked to Mr Parker's
stacks, and there found six small mice, which we buried, Alivo !

CHASTISEMENT AND FAIRYLAND 53

Manifestly, the old Adam was very powerful in us
about that period, and it may have been fortunate that
Mr Gray found occasion a little later to beat us both for
making general hay of our bedroom and other parts of the
house one evening when he and Mrs Gray were out to
dinner. The beating was performed with great solemnity
the following afternoon, an ordinary horsewhip being
applied across the back while one was firmly held by the
collar. I rather fancied myself afterwards, because Bob
howled lustily and I took my share without a murmur,
but it would probably have been better policy to follow
Bob's example.

It is a little curious that amid the undesirable character-
istics which are perhaps common to all boys I seem to have
had quite other fancies, and one of these was to construct
a " fairyland " on the top of the trunk of a very large
old tree, whose branches were all gone, and had left quite
an extensive plateau to deal with. In the same letter
which describes the American ironclads there is the
following passage : —

This afternoon, after a most perilous ascent, with a rope fastened
to me, I reached fairyland, and I hauled up the basket a great
many times full of different things, such as ivy, violet roots,
stones, slates and soil. Queen Mab's cave is covered over the
top with ivy and violets. It is exactly like a real cave, with
lots of little passages out of it as far as you can see. It is a queer
tree. When first I got up it had soil all over the top of it about
a foot deep, with gooseberry bush, and some ivy, nettles and
flowers on the top of it. We have cleared all the nettles away
and it looks so nice already.

On Friday 6th, the next year, 1863, there is the following
note in the Diary : —

This morning we learned mythology, after which we went into
the garden. I climbed into fairyland.

Day-dreams are frequent enough at that time of life,
and mine used to be largely inspired by the works of
J. G. Edgar, such as A Boy's Adventures in the Baron's

54 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

Wars. The modern world then seemed dull and intoler-
able, the soul of chivalry and romance having departed,

Mr Gray, however, by somewhat Spartan methods,
brought the realities of existence, such as it is, very clearly
to our minds each morning, for it was his custom to call
us himself and make one after the other sit in a bath
while he poured a can of cold water down the back.
This he did regardless of weather, and, no doubt, the effect
was good, though the anticipation on a winter morning
was unpleasant.

The marriage of the Prince and Princess of Wales was
the great event of loth March 1863, and my part in the
celebration of it is recorded in the Diary, loth March :

This morning we went to Brafferton, Mrs Gray riding the
donkey at first, but we were met by the carriage, and so I rode the
donkey, which kept up with the carriage. In the afternoon we
had a procession round the town, me among the number. In
the evening we had a magic lantern and fireworks. We all sang
God Save the Queen. There were flags out of all the windows.

Some few weeks later, during the holidays, I was taken
to Ripon to see the Prince and Princess drive through
the town, and that was my first sight of them. Of course
people were enthusiastic. How could they be otherwise
over such a charming young Princess? — but loyalty to
the Crown was not then nearly so deeply rooted and
sincere as it is now. It was reserved for Disraeli, a good
many years later, to bring home both to Queen Victoria
and her people the true strength of their respective
positions, which act and react for mutual dignity and
co-operative power.

This Cundale period must now come to an end, though
something like a Sandford and Merton book could be
written about it. All concerned have passed out of my
ken, and I have never seen Bob Callcott again. Mr Gray
migrated to the living of Pateley Bridge. I went home,
and next term to Coxwold Vicarage.

CHAPTER IV

Life at Coxwold Vicarage — My Welsh Tutor — His strange Methods
of Teaching — I myself set up as a Teacher — No Dissent at
Coxwold — Racing Associations — The Coxwold Derby Sweep
(Macaroni's Year) — Failure to see Tom King — Early Shooting
— My First Partridge — Mr Kingsley and the Kites — The
Kite String and the Magistrate's Hat — My Fear of that
Magistrate — Tom Brown's Schooldays sends me to Rugby

COXWOLD is a delightful old village and was much
more in the world than Kilvington or Cundale.
This may have been due to the close proximity
of Newburgh Priory, where Sir George and Lady Julia
Wombwell used to entertain considerable house parties,
the Duke of Cambridge being a frequent guest, and other
such celebrities as Maria Marchioness of Ailesbury were
among the regular visitors. Needless to say, when these
appeared in church on Sundays they gave the gossips of
the village infinite food for conversation, and when the
vicar, the Rev. George Scott, joined the shooting-parties
and went to dinner with the notables, it can be well
understood that his family gave him no peace until he
told them all about everything, for, I should explain, he
had six daughters as well as his good wife. There were
also three sons, the eldest of whom, Tom, was about
four and a half years my senior, but backward in educa-
tion, and a curate had been engaged to act also as
private tutor to Tom and the second son, Mainwaring.
Somehow it was arranged that I should go to Coxwold
to have the advantage of this tutor, a Welshman named
Williams, who was a really good sort, and I learned a
very great deal from him in little more than a year, from
1863 to Easter, 1864.
His methods of teaching were remarkable, for instead

55

56 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

of forbidding the use of Cribs, he actually provided us
with them so that our reading of the classics might be
more rapid and extensive.

This led, at first, to somewhat discouraging results,
as, for instance, when I, with the assistance of Bohn,
commenced translating the first Ode of Horace thus :

Maecenas — Maecenas, atavis — sprung, edite regibus — from
ancient kings ;

but that sort of fiasco was not of frequent occurrence,
and I had read pretty nearly the whole of the JEneid of
Virgil when I was little more than twelve years old.

Nor was it long before equally rapid strides were made
in Greek, and I had mastered several Greek plays, of
which the Medea of Euripides was one, before the end
of 1863.

It is hardly conceivable that such a system of education
is good, except for cramming purposes, but somehow it
answered in my case, though I don't think Tom Scott
derived any benefit whatever from it.

Mr Scott himself was a rare good sportsman, and as
fine a shot as you could find in those days. He was a
county magistrate at a time when that was some dis-
tinction, and though the good friend of all his parishioners
he never worried them by parochial visitations. The
old vicarage, immediately opposite the church, whose
beautiful octagonal tower is something unique in the way
of architecture, was formerly the village school, and the
house was for the headmaster — at least, so I believe.
Even in 1863 the village schoolroom remained an integral
part of the vicarage, though with a separate entrance,
but so casual was the teaching given there that on one
occasion, when the schoolmaster, Mr Heron, was away
for a few days Tom Scott and I took charge and taught
the children. What we taught them, goodness knows,
but we were very severe on some of the boys — that much
I remember well. This might seem incredible, but it
is recorded plainly enough in my Diary :

DISSENT WITHOUT DIFFERFNCE 57

Saturday, i$th June 1863.

This morning we did our usual lessons. Mr Heron has not
come back yet. Tom and I went again to teach the children.

Such a happy family was all the village of Coxwold
that Mr Scott used to allow free use of this schoolroom —
which was actually part of the ground floor of the vicarage
— for Nonconformist services, there being no chapel in the
village. There was really no Dissent, for the people used
to go to church in the morning and to the schoolroom
chapel in the evening. A very different spirit prevailed at
Kilvington and Thirsk, where a " Methody parson " was
always regarded as a man of dubious morality, and to this
day I find it difficult to clear myself of an instinctive
hatred of the Nonconformist conscience and all its works,
this feeling having been bred in me and strengthened by
early environment.

A worthy man called George Smith was the chief of such
Nonconformists as there were at Coxwold, but there was
no Nonconformist bitterness about him, and he and the
vicar were the best of friends. George Smith was much
given to recitations on the subject of temperance, one of
which began :

A toper sat in a tap-room nook —

He was cheerful, vivacious and gay.
He had two pounds ten in his pocket just then —

He had pawned his watch that day !

Suicide was the ultimate fate of the toper, and when the
" startled neighbours," hearing the shot, rushed to see
what had happened they found nothing in cupboard or
pantry but

One half-empty cup of cider,

which the toper, it would seem, had been unable to
finish before shooting himself. He cannot have been
such a desperate toper if cider was his beverage, but
George Smith thought nothing of that. Anything
alcoholic was in his view equally pernicious. He was a

58 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

good, kindly man, but with many narrow scruples of
conscience. Thus when the vicar once sent him a brace
or two of partridges, he returned them with many
thanks, but said he felt bound to " abstain from things
strangled and from blood," as enjoined by the Bible, and
he understood that partridges were not bled when killed.
For the most part Coxwold was a very sport-loving
village, and almost any of the old inhabitants could talk
with intimate knowledge of north-country horses, especi-
ally those that were or had been trained on Hambleton, not
more than five miles away. The Stebbing brothers had not
a few classic winners there, though according to William
Day they did not make the best of their opportunities.
Knight of St George, Flatcatcher, Alice Hawthorn, King-
ston, and even Velocipede were at some time or another
trained on Hambleton, and it was an easy journey to go
from Coxwold by Oldstead and up Oldstead bank, on the
side of which there is the big white horse that is visible
from the North-Easternmain line between York and Thirsk.
On the top of Oldstead bank you are within half-a-mile of
the Hambleton Hotel and close to the training gallops that
were. Small wonder then that Coxwold people had many
training reports to discuss, and the village cronies at the
Fauconberg Arms always turned to racing as their favourite
topic. Scurr, the landlord, was quite a sound judge of
form, but the great authority of the village was Savage,
the painter and decorator. In the year 1863 there was a
Coxwold half-crown sweep on the Derby, and to the best
of my recollection this was my first venture in a specu-
lation of the sort. The subscribers were numerous, and I
was so far fortunate that I drew a runner — viz. the Gillie —
who finished fifth . The newspaper reports said he ' ' showed
temper " in the last furlong, and I solaced myself with the
belief that but for his infirmity of temper he would have
won. Doubtless he had no earthly chance of beating
Macaroni or Lord Clifden. It was the year when Sweet-
meat blood was in the ascendant, for there were many
other first-class sons of Sweetmeat besides Macaroni.

PUGILISM AND PIGEON-SHOOTING 59

Saccharometer was one of them, and Carnival another.
Many were the regrets expressed at that time that Sweet-
meat had been expatriated, and these were renewed
some years later when Sweetmeat's son Parmesan sired
Favonius and Cremorne.

We did pretty much as we liked at Coxwold out of
school hours. There was an old chestnut pony which I
used to ride, and Tom had another mount. We used to
race these animals whenever opportunity arose, much
after the fashion of Benjamin and his friend exercising
Mr Jorrocks's hunters. Then too we were interested in
pugilism, as is shown by the Diary for i6th June 1863 :

This morning we did our usual lessons, and then went and
talked with Billy Bowser about Tom King, who was coming in a
Circus to Easingwold. At night we went there, did not see Tom
King and got very wet.

There is a world of disappointment in the above record,
for Easingwold is five or six miles from Coxwold.

Before this time, when I was no more than ten years old,
my father had taken a great deal of trouble in teaching me
how to handle and load a muzzle-loading gun with safety,
in any event, to myself and others. I never forgot those
lessons, and whatever may have been my proficiency as
a game shot, I can say without fear of contradiction that
I have never caused the slightest feeling of apprehension
to anyone who has been shooting with me. So thoroughly
was I grounded in this respect that I was allowed to go
out with an old single -barrel muzzle-loader, with half
charges, to shoot fieldfares or rabbits. I find, in the
Diary for 2nd January 1863 :

Out shooting this morning at Davison's, and killed three.
They let me shoot at the pigeons.

This was really an iniquitous proceeding, for the farmer's
wife, Mrs Davison, had expressed doubt as to my
capacity to hit anything, and I offered her sixpence to

60 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

let me have a shot at the pigeons. She accepted the
offer, and I waited till a number of pigeons were on the
roof of one of the buildings and fired into the midst of
them. My recollection is that five were killed, but the
diary says three — anyhow I went home in triumph with
the spoils, but was not commended for what I had done.

That same year I was out with the gun and accompanied
by an old servant of ours, Mary Ridsdale by name — I
suppose it was thought I needed looking after. I marked
a blackbird into a hedge and went there to kick it up.
There was a scurry of wings as a bird suddenly rose and
flew away. I fired at it almost automatically, and down
it came. Not till then did I see that it was a partridge.
Moreover, I had no game certificate and it was not the
shooting season. Various men with carts were passing
on the road hard by. Worst of all, the partridge was a
runner and we had no dog with us.

I felt I had committed some awful crime, and so did
Mary Ridsdale. The game laws were really serious in
those days, and I fully believed that the men on the road
would inform the police about what they had seen. All
the same I went back to the village and found Tom
Palliser, who chanced to be sober, and told him about
the partridge, whereupon he went with me and a useful
terrier to the fatal spot. The terrier hunted up and
down the nearest ditch and soon found the bird, which
we took home, but Tom Palliser meanly told my father
the story, and as a result I was informed, just before going
to bed, that a policeman had come inquiring for me.
This I implicitly believed, but was soon put out of my
misery. It is a trivial story, but it is that of my first
partridge, and I suppose it is ordinary human weakness
that causes me to dwell on such a subject.

My alarm at the prospect of being brought before the
Thirsk magistrates for shooting the partridge had been
considerably increased by the fact that the chairman of
those magistrates, a somewhat pompous gentleman named
Lloyd, had been much incensed a week or two earlier

THE KITES AND THE MAGISTRATES 61

by having his top hat pulled off by a string which reached
from hedge to hedge across a road and just caught the
hat as he was riding home from his magisterial duties,
fhis was in fact the ultimate string of three kites which
I and another boy had been flying, under the instructions
of Mr Kingsley, the Kilvington rector. The first kite
was six feet high, and when that had carried out as much
string as it could support, the string was fastened to the
back of a seven-foot kite, which again took out a goodly
length of thicker string. Then came the eight-foot kite,
to the back of which the second line was attached, and
we had stout whipcord on a sort of windlass, made some-
thing like the reel of a fishing-rod, and with legs driven
deep into the ground to enable us to control the whole
three. In this way we used to fly the first kite almost
out of sight, but on the occasion in question the wind
was strong and a weak spot had developed in our last
line of whipcord, which gave way, and of course we had
to pursue the kites across country. As ill luck would
have it, the line crossed the road where Mr Lloyd was
trotting jauntily home, and, as I have said, it caught his
top hat, which fell clattering in the road just as I and my
friend came up on the track of the string.

We were quick enough to drop flat on the other side
of the hedge, while the great man dismounted, using
anything but magisterial language, and recovered his
much-damaged hat. We lay there quaking while he
seized on the string and began hauling in the slack from
the broken side, throwing it in a tangled mass over the
far-side hedge as he did so. There was at least a quarter
of a mile of string for him to deal with in this way, and it
took him fully ten minutes to get to the end of it where
the break had been. He then remounted and rode on
his way, feeling, no doubt, that he had done his duty,
and we lay there all the time undiscovered : but I told my
father about it all, and he told Mr Lloyd, who, doubtless,
only laughed, but to me it was represented that the great
man had ascertained by secret agency who had done him

62 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

this despite and that his anger against me was terrible.
Hence my fear at the bare idea of going before him for
shooting a partridge.

Mr Kingsley, to whom we owed the idea of kite-flying,
was even then experimenting with kites for military
purposes. He was really a wonder, as anyone who ever
knew him will agree, and there were few things that he
could not actually do.

Thus, in our case, he arranged all the details of making
an icehouse, and levelling a croquet lawn — no difficult
matter, of course, for those who understand such jobs ;
but he understood pretty nearly everything.

Enough, however, and perhaps too much of these early
trifles. I come now to the time when I went to Rugby,
Tom Brown's Schooldays being the direct cause of that
choice.

CHAPTER V

Oakfield House Preparatory School — Mr J. M. Furness and the
Canes — " Mother " Davidson — Port and Bread and Butter
— Concerning Rujjby Football — The Hacking Game — I get
used to it — " Louts " and Rows with them — Harry Verelst
and the Snowball — I see a Man in the Stocks — Why not
Stocks for Conscientious Objectors ? — The French Master
and his painful Books — Head of the School — Effects of Get-
learning-quick Tuition — Mat. Furness — " Having it Down "•
— Departure to the Big School

AFTER Easter, 1864, I was taken by my mother
to Rugby, where we spent a night at the George
Hotel, and went the next morning to see Mr
Frank Kitchener, a friend of the Rhodes' family (Thirsk),
who was one of the masters at the Big School and also,
I believe, a near relative of Lord Kitchener that was to be.
He no doubt gave useful advice as to my future, and
in due course we proceeded to Oakfield House, the pre-
paratory school over which the Rev. J. M. Furness then
presided, and there I was left, but not until the matron,
" Mother " Davidson, a stout, florid, comfortable old
Scotchwoman, had been interviewed, and charged with
many instructions as to my welfare, one of which was that
I was to have a glass of Port, with bread and butter, at
ii A.M. each day. This instruction was faithfully carried
out during all the time I was at Oakfield House, and I
don't think I ever liked Port better than on those occasions.
It might be thought from my early and nervous begin-
nings, so far as schooling went, that I should have had a
bad time at Oakfield House to start with, but it was not
so at all, and I cannot recall that I had any trouble
whatever. There were fifty or sixty boys at this school,
including those from the town, and Mr Furness was, no
doubt, a good and capable master : a middle-sized, wiry
man, with mutton-chop whiskers inclined to bush, and a

63

64 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

sharp, fiery eye, which boded no good for those against
whom he from time to time fulminated. If he did not
box your ears, which he was very apt to do, with rapid
persistency and both hands, he had a way of sending
you to buy a cane for your own chastisement. This was
rather a refinement of what would be now termed cruelty,
but it at least gave the chance to purchase the worst
possible cane, and even to insert a hair in it to make it
split. Somehow — and it has always been a mystery to
me why — I never incurred his wrath, or, at any rate,
the practical demonstration of it. I had a charmed life,
so to speak, and a proof of this was given when some
ballyragging and pillow-fighting was taking place in a
dormitory which others, of whom I was one, had invaded,
and Mr Furness suddenly rushed in with a big shilling
cane and Berserker wrath in his eyes. He laid about
him with right good will on boys who, with only night-
shirts on, were badly cut under really savage blows.
In the course of his onrush he came upon me and I stood
to receive the worst that cane could do, but he paused for
a moment and said : " No, I won't hit you ! " and dashed
on, doing apparently indiscriminate punishment among
all the others. I never learned why it was that I was
spared, and I simply record the fact that I was.

It was a good sort of school as schools were in those
times. There were four forms in it, the IVth being the
highest, and I was provisionally put in the Illrd, the
master of which was named Lewis, but though coming in
at the half term, I was soon able to outclass the company
in which I found myself, and having won a prize, Sir
Walter Scott's Poems, which I still possess and value,
I proceeded into the IVth form the next term.

Oakfield House is still well known as a preparatory
school for Rugby, and it has always been a good one.
There you began to understand what Rugby football really
was. It needed some understanding, for those were the
days of the hacking game, when not only could you hack
your way through a scrummage but hack over whoever

THE HACKING GAME 65

of the opponents was first on his side, and also hack over
anyone running with the ball if you could not tackle him.
Often and often it was a really savage game, and the sound
of the haoking when a scrummage was formed was rather
dreadful — as one remembers it now. Moreover, anything
in the nature of a guard for the shins was anathema
maranatha. I remember seeing a boy very severely
beaten for being found to have stuffed copy-books inside
his stockings when he played football.

Under such conditions the initiation into Rugby
football was something like being under fire for the first
time, and yet I was put in our school Twenty, presumably
because I was bigger than others of my age. Moreover
the first game I ever played in was a very fierce one indeed,
against a Twenty of the Big School Town fellows. I did
not really understand the game, and what to make of the
hacking was a demoralising puzzle. I was told I had
played very badly, and it was not obscurely suggested that
I had funked the hacking, which was probably true ;
but it was a very different matter when one really knew
what it all meant and what a dreadful thing it was to be
thought afraid. Then fear, which is an instinct natural
to every human being, was quickly got under and my
second match was played in reputable fashion, as may
be judged from the following letter, in which, be it observed,
I make no mention of how badly I played in the first : —

OAKFIELD, Oct. 23^ 1864.
DEAR POLLY,

We played the Big School Town last week. They
were very big fellows and beat us. But yesterday we played
Vecqu eray's, which is one of the Preparatory Schools, and beat
them easily, getting 24 quarter ways, 4 punts out, 4 tries at goal,
and i goal, to their 3 quarter ways and one try at goal. I got a
piece about f of an inch long taken right out of my leg.

The fellow who did it must have had nails in his boots, which are
not allowed. I never felt it till after the match. I shall not be
able to play again for a bit, but I got cheered and clapped, so I
did not care.

Believe me, yours affect.

W. ALLISON.

66 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

From a letter written during the same month as the
above I quote the following extract : —

I saw Big Side football yesterday in the Close. It was the
Caps of the school against the Sixth. The Caps are about 70 of
the best players in the school, and are so called from the velvet
caps that they wear. One fellow got his arm put out, and a
great many were hurt. I wish you could see a football match,
It is worth looking at.

How strange it seems now that in the days when the
above letter was written Rugby football was practically
unknown, except at Rugby, and that public interest in
football of any sort was non-existent ! The Big School
players used to seem as demi-gods in our eyes at that
time, and certainly a Big Side Football Match, such as
that of the Vlth against the School, was always some-
thing in the nature of a Homeric battle. Everyone in
the Vlth could play, whether he had his Cap or not, and
it was the one occasion in the year when the School was
free to pay off any old scores that might exist. Any
number of old " Rugs " could come down and play on
one side or the other, according to the position they had
been in when they left the school. But of Rugby football
as it then was I shall have more to say later on. It is
only introduced here as it appeared to my wondering eyes
when I first saw it played, and, as touching its tempera-
mental effects on me when I first played it. That
I soon came really to like the game is shown by a
letter written on 7th May the following year (1865), hi
which comes this statement :

We have a good deal of cricket now, but I don't think I like it
so well as football.

We had Caps of sorts in our small way at Oakfield
House, and there is a curious reference to this in one
of my letters, written also in May, 1865 :

You are quite in a mistake thinking by " louts " I meant our
school. I meant the common street boys, of whom there are

"LOUT ROWS" 67

great numbers. Several times when I and a few others were
obliged to go down town, when we returned we found about a
hundred between us and the house, and had then to run the
gauntlet down them all, which we did by clasping our hands
tight over our heads, holding our caps as tight as possible, we who
had red caps (of whom there are only 10 left in the school) were
the special persons on whom they directed their attacks. To
seize a red cap, I suppose, is regarded as a great honour. If
once you lose your cap you never get it again. We generally
got through all right, after being hit several times with stones,
snowballs, etc.

I think the expression, a " lout row," is peculiar to
Rugby. It did not really signify any serious class ani-
mosity, but only that at a certain period it is customary
to fight, as in a Town-and-Gown row at Oxford on the
5th of November. Certainly the " louts," as they were
styled, made but little pretence of fighting with the Big
School at any time, but Oakfield House was some distance
away on Bilton Hill, and the chance of cutting off such
smaller fry as we were appealed not unnaturally to the
instincts of those who liked a row in which they had a
vast advantage. This was particularly in the winter
time, when there was plenty of snow, but as for snowballs,
I never got hit by one so hard as to remember it except
when poor Harry Verelst, who was then at the Big School,
came with two or three friends to see some of us and
started snowballing before they left. He threw one which
came like a shot out of a gun and took me in the short
ribs, almost after the manner of the " chunk of old red
sandstone " which caused Abner Jones to " curl up on
the floor." It must have been a super-snowball indeed,
to have left its memory vivid through all these years.
Verelst, as is pretty generally known, was a great cricketer,
and he died only about a year ago.

The term " lout," not inaptly, describes a person, of
whatever class, who has had no physical training and
cannot move or carry himself except in an awkward,
shambling fashion. There will be very few "louts" left
after this war, except among the conscientious objectors.

68 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

Between Oakfield House and the town proper there
was about half-a-mile of street, at one part of which, in
1865, I saw a man in the stocks, and it was, I believe,
one of the last occasions when this very salutary form of
punishment was resorted to. It is easy to mention many
cases for which the stocks would afford an effective remedy.
Conscientious objectors, for example, could be most
properly treated in this way. The case I saw, however,
was merely that of a drunkard, with whom the public
seemed to have some sympathy. There is a reference
to it in the Encyclopedia Britannica under the heading :
" Stocks."

I suppose boys at preparatory schools seldom differ
from a few conventional types, and I had early experience
of a friend who attached himself to me because I had a
fair supply of pocket-money. This youth I need not
name, but he was just like the greedy boy we read of in
story books. He introduced me to Jacomb's and to
Hobley's, the two rival shops where ices and other delights
could be bought, and he stuck to me like a leech as long
as my cash lasted for the two of us. The excesses in which
we indulged may be judged from the following passage
in a letter, undated, in 1864 : —

The Ices are most delightful now. There are strawberry,
lemon, orange, greengage, pineapple, cherry, raspberry, apricot,
vanilla, coffee, etc.

Fortunately my money did not last long for the purpose
of such outlays, and then my friend had no further use
for me.

There was a rather dreadful French master at Oakfield
House, who had a habit of smiting offenders across the
back of the hand with the sharp edges of a book bound
in boards. Moreover, he considered everyone an offender
who could not answer some question which he would
occasionally propound. It was an anxious time when the
question was asked of some fellow five or six places above
you and he could not answer it. Consciousness of your

QUICK PROGRESS 69

own ignorance on the subject would create a fervent hope
that someone would give the proper answer before your
turn came, each failure being marked by the paralysing
crack of the book across the back of a hand. The position
was similar to that of the Philistines when Samson asked
his riddle, but somehow all such troubles are as nothing
when you are young.

On the whole I think I was very happy at Oakfield
House, and the methods of rapid tuition adopted by my
Coxwold tutor, Mr Williams, had so far succeeded that
I passed out into the IVth form after my first half term,
and was soon head of the school, but I have very grave
doubts as to whether the rapid system of learning by
cribs and so forth — " cabs," we called them at Rugby —
can possibly be a good one, though in my case it happened
to strike a lucky subject, who, being really interested in
all the old Latin and Greek stories, never forgot what I
had learned — all too easily. This process, however,
created an abiding disinclination to work hard at less
congenial subjects, one of which was arithmetic ; others
were modern languages, and throughout life I have been
too apt to go for form-at-a-glance. It is always to me a
tedious business to inspect bloodstock along with other
people, for I see all I want to see so much more quickly
than they do — possibly because I am, by education,
superficial, while they are thorough. Be that as it may,
I was going up like a rocket on Mr Williams' get-learning-
quick system at the period under notice, though, of course,
at Oakfield House the bare idea of using " cabs " (cribs)
was out of the question.

A kindly gentleman at Oakfield House remains in my
memory. This was Major Mat. Furness, brother of our
head, who lived there and was a good friend to all of us.
It was from him, a year or two later, when I was at the
Big School, and was attending a concert at which I met
him, that I heard the news of the terrible accident at
Newby Ferry in the York and Ainsty country when
Sir Charles Slingsby and others were drowned.

70 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

On the subject of the hacking game at football, as it
then was, I ought to add that so absolutely legitimate
was hacking that in case boys decided on a fight they
could set to with their fists, or, in the alternative, " have
it down " — as the expression was. This meant that they
went to a little cockpit sort of place at the back of the
schools, perhaps eight feet by six feet, and there, holding
one another by the upper arms or shoulders, hacked each
other's shins till the issue was decided. To hack on or
above the knees was, of course, hopelessly foul, and boots
with nails in them were always prohibited, but it was a
punishing sort of contest, and if it has disappeared from
the school curriculum, so much the better.

It does indeed make one feel young again to write of
life at Oakfield House, and to think of Mr Furness with
his fiery temper and his cane ; of Mother Davidson with
her every-morning glass of Port for me ; of the secret
repasts in bedrooms on purchased potted meats and bread
purloined from our supper-tables; of paper chases in
which, at that time of life, I was a most futile performer ; of
journeys home when we all had pea-shooters to sting up
old gentlemen at railway stations — oh, what nonsense it
all was, and yet precious nonsense !

I must cut the experiences of Oakfield House short
and get forward to the Big School.

CHAPTER VI

First Term at Rugby — " Jex " — Godley's Fag — The Curing of
Barker — " Orange !! Peel's Finance — Palmy Days of Rugby
Cricket — Upper Middle I. — Death of my Father — Return
to School — Catering Arrangements — " Mindar " and his
Song — Rugby Football — All must come — House Runs —
House Washing — First Experiences of "Froddy" — Natural
Science and Modern Languages despised — First House
Supper — Departure of Demigods

IT was in August, 1865, that I went to Rugby School,
where my house-master was the Rev. T. W. Jex-
Blake, one of the most delightful of men, and wholly
different from any ordinary schoolmaster. " Jex," as we
used to call him, was himself an old Rugbeian, and had
established a record time for the Crick run which was
not beaten for a good many years. He was blind of one
eye or very nearly so, and there was a tradition that
this was due to a combat in which he had engaged in a
Town-and-Gown row at Oxford. Probably there was
no truth in this, but it served to increase his popularity.
He was certainly a good man to hounds and with the drag
at Oxford. To me he was always kindness itself ; but
I am writing now of the early days when a new fellow
has to settle down as best he can in strange environment.
I was put in Upper Middle I. to commence with, and
therefore had my experience of fagging, which I have
never regretted. Fags in each house were distributed
among the members of the Vlth, for special service, such
as dusting the great man's study and his books, sweeping
the carpet, and so forth. It fell to my lot to be fag to
J. A. Godley, who is now Lord Kilbracken, and I was
also in the bedroom over which he was supreme. He
was always one of the very best, and even on my

72 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

first night at the school I began to feel more or less at
home. Godley was a really brilliant scholar, and he
was also a cricketer of considerable merit. He had his
Cap, and was, in fact, good all round. He used to be
called " Little Boy,"1 but the origin of that title is lost in
obscurity so far as I am concerned. It was through him
that I was made Library fag for the House, the duties
being to issue library books once a week to those who
wanted them, and keep a record of all such transactions.
He was really only four years older than myself, but
four years make a world of difference at that time of life
when the big fellows at your school seem to be infinitely
bigger and more powerful than any other men that you
ever see later on. At Rugby the VI th form was responsible
for the discipline of the houses, the house-master only
coming in to read prayers in the evening. Whether the
regime is the same now I do not know, but it used to work
very well then, and to an extent which no master could
possibly have controlled. Thus in our bedroom — there
were nine of us — a fellow named Barker was given to snor-
ing so badly that his presence was almost intolerable. He
would awaken us all by sudden trumpet-like snorts, apart
from methodical snoring, and Godley at last ordained
that a string should be tied to one of his toes and passed
along all the beds, the instruction being that anyone who
heard him beginning to snore should pull hard at the
string. The result was that he was absolutely cured of
the habit within a fortnight, and if, as I hope, he is still
alive and flourishing, he will certainly acknowledge the
benefit he derived from this rough and ready treatment.

New fellows at Rugby in my time had to wear top hats,
and were also obliged to answer anyone who had been

1 Lord Kilbracken explains : " The origin of my nickname was a
very simple one. When I went to Rugby I was in a bedroom with
four other boys, all a good deal bigger than I was ; they got into the
way of addressing me, appropriately enough, as ' Little Boy,' and the
name spread and stuck.to me." Lord Kilbracken (J. A. Godley) was
anything but a " little boy " when the author went to Rugby four years
later.

RUGBY CRICKET 73

at the school a year or more, when asked their names,
parentage and so forth. The hat as a distinguishing mark
was decidedly inconvenient, and it soon assumed con-
certina shape from the attentions bestowed on it. To
the best of my recollection my first study was shared with
John Sayer, who was somewhat senior to me, but I can
much more clearly recall a red-haired youth named Peel —
" Orange " Peel, as he was, of course, styled. He must
have been a born financier, for he throve mightily by
getting up raffles for half-a-sovereign. He would go round
the studies and sell shilling tickets — no matter how many —
and would not close his list until he had a good margin
of profit. Thus one half-sovereign served him as a
money-maker from the beginning to the end of a term.

It was the Augustan age of Rugby cricket when I was
there, Yardley, Pauncefote, C. K. Francis, R. G. Venables
and others being no ephemeral names in this respect.

Venables was in our house, and he was out by himself
as a bowler in 1865. I, who came in at the tag end of a
cricket season, was at first thought to promise very well,
because, on being given a trial, I made ten or a dozen off
Venables.

He was a left-hand, medium-pace bowler, and somehow
I hit him, but the season was ending, and there was no
further chance to demonstrate whether this was a fluke
or not. He was four years older than myself and, I am
glad to say, still is — for I see he subscribed to The Sportsman
fund, in connection with Captain P. F. Warner's cricket,
quite recently.

My division of Upper Middle I. was under the control
of a master named Moberly, a good, amiable being who
used to be irreverently called "Guts,"1 though for what
reason I never knew, as he certainly was not a particularly
stout man. Before I had been at the school a week it
was discovered that I had been underrated in being

1 A contemporary of the author at Rugby writes : " As for old
Moberly's nickname, I think you have forgotten his contour. He had
a big protuberant paunch, though not otherwise a fat man."

74 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

placed in his form, but nothing could be done to alter
this until the end of term, and in the meanwhile — quite
early in the term — I was summoned home, for my father
died on 8th September 1865.

Mr Jex-Blake told me this bad news with inimitably
gentle kindness, but it was a crushing blow, and I remember
seeing an all-black railway engine at Rugby station as
I departed. This seemed exactly suited to the occasion.
I was met at Thirsk Station by Mr Arrowsmith, the Rev.
T. Walker, of Sleights, and Mr John Hodgson, of North-
allerton, the executors of my father's will, and with them
went to Kilvington. It was a house of gloom indeed,
but there is no need to dwell on that. I attended the
funeral at Thirsk, and to me the most memorable incident
in connection with it is that an old, deaf watchmaker,
named Dicky Scurr, went up to the grave-side after the
service and threw a rose down on the coffin. I never knew
what was the cause of this kindly tribute, but it must
have been a good one.

Well, then, I had to set off back to school, with a heavy
heart, and I sometimes think that I got better through
that first term of mine than new fellows do as a rule,
because boys, though ruthless by nature, are yet awed
and softened by the news of such a catastrophe as had
befallen me.

Trouble, however, when you are young, is evanescent,
and I think I began to enjoy life at school before the end
of that term. Perusal of my various letters home shows
that I was constantly asking for creature comforts in
the shape of hampers of food, but here it should be
explained that in those days we were in a great measure
dependent on our own resources both for breakfast and
tea, nothing but bread and butter being given you in the
ordinary routine. A large table was set apart in the hall,
on which all the private viands, such as hams, pigeon
pies, etc., were placed, and it was the custom, at the begin-
ning of each term, to form ourselves into sets — otherwise
messes — subscribing so much, and appointing one of us

"MINDAR" 75

as the caterer, whose business it was to eke out home
supplies with dishes from Jacomb's or Hobley's. This was
all very well for those who had plenty of pocket-money, as I
always had, but it was bad business for those who had not.
Sometimes you would see derelict units of the house who
could not join any set, and could perhaps ill afford even
a pot of jam, which would have to last them a long
while.

The Vlth fellows were at a table and in a set of their
own, and they generally came in rather late for breakfast,
so that any fags who had finished and were going away
could be hailed and given slices of bread to toast in the
butler's pantry. On that same fire I learned how to
make scrambled eggs with some success, but when I call
the place a butler's pantry I distinguish it too highly,
for the occupant of it, whose name was, I think, Manders,
but who was always addressed as " Mindar," was a general
factotum, and his duties included calling us in the morning.

He would come into your bedroom punctually at
6.30 A.M., and say, as he entered : " Gentlemen, please ! "
He would then walk to the end of the room, where, in this
case, was Godley's bed, and reel off each name as he passed
each bed : " Mr Godley," " Mr Graham " — and so on, to
" Mr Allison " — I was nearest the door. Then, at the
moment of his exit, he would say : "If you please,
gentlemen ! "

And yet how truly unpleasing it used to be to get up
on those cold mornings, when the chapel bell commenced
ringing at 6.45 A.M., and you were late if you did not
present yourself before seven !

Good old " Mindar " ! He would regularly unbend once
a term on the occasion of hall-singing, when all new fellows
had to stand on a table in the hall and sing, in accordance
with " Tom Brown " tradition.

At these times " Mindar " used to be coerced into the
hall, and after much persuasion he would reel off his one
song, sitting back against one of the brass-bound oak
tables :

76 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

'Tis forty years, my old friend John,
Since you and I were b'ys,

When we were b'ys,

Merry, merry b'ys ;
When we were b'ys together —
Methinks it seems but yesterday
Since we were b'ys together !

This used always to be applauded to the echo and
" Mindar " sang it with a most benevolent and self-
satisfied smile.

That first term I got thoroughly initiated into Rugby
football, though I was then no novice at it. The game
was compulsory unless you had a medical certificate to
exempt you ; and, after dinner, on half-holida}^, it was
customary to repair to the notice-board on the outer door,
where, as often as not, you would find yourself posted up
to play on one side or the other of a " pick up " match
among your own house, with the footnote : "All must
come." That was good business, and I never heard of a
conscientious objector.

Then there were the House runs over long distances of
country, and here the compulsion was in the alternative :
" All fags must run or carry coats," which meant that if
you did not run you had to attend at the start and receive
coats from those who took them off, and carry these coats
to the " come in " so as to be ready to hand them to the
runners. During that first term of mine I was always
one of the runners.

Another pastime was described as " House washing,"
and this is how I wrote about it to my sister at the period
under notice :

There was what is called a " house washing " yesterday. That
is, the house went down to the brook and commenced jumping
the same in certain selected spots. Of course some of these spots
are selected because no one can jump them, and the small boys
can seldom get over any at all. The biggest go first and stand
by to haul the others out as they go in ; this is sometimes a
difficult operation, as they occasionally go above the knees in

" FRODDY " 77

mud and require three or four people to pull them out. You can
imagine the miserable state everybody gets into before the end.

Readers who are not old Rugbeians may need the
explanation that the brook in question winds about so
much that it can be crossed again and again in a point-to-
point line, and the school steeplechases used to be run
over it.

Referring to my remarks on my letters which demanded
food, I may quote the following, written on i5th October
1865:

Send me a hamper when you get home, with anything in it
that will keep. Of course you can send a few things that won't,
as we can eat them first. If you send a pie, it had best be in a
pie-dish, as they so soon go mouldy without, being kept in rather
a damp place. We have got quite sick of jam, since we have had
so much of it lately.

I should add here that we used to be given very small
beer, known as " swipes," for dinner and supper, but my
trusty Doctor Ryott would not hear of it for me, and. I
always had my own special cask of Rhodes's beer from
Thirsk, as well as the morning glass of Port which used to
be administered to me by the matron, Mrs Lee. This,
no doubt, seems rather dreadful to modern educationists,
but it happened as I write, and I am alive and well to tell
the tale.

It may be thought that I should ere now have written
something of our headmaster, Dr Temple, but at that
early period I regarded him simply with awe and had not
come to know him as I did in later years. His voice was
alarmingly harsh, but his eyes were always very kind,
and " Froddy," as he was called, was really one of the
most successful headmasters ever known, Arnold not
excepted. My first meetings with him were when I had
to take up copies of Latin verses or other composition,
recommended for inscription in his album, and for every
three of such copies he gave you a guinea prize at
Billington's, the booksellers. He would always read

78 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

the stuff with apparent interest, while you were standing
by in nervous trepidation, and then send you away with
a pleasant word or two about it that would make the
world seem to go very well with you.

I had a few experiences such as this even in my first
term, for I had been placed too low in the school, and
naturally did work which compared favourably with that
of Upper Middle I., but I will not presume to give any
record of Dr Temple here, at this stage, for I was to see
so much more of him later on.

Doubtless schools have been improved greatly since
my time, but there was even then abundance of opportunity
to tackle outside subjects if you wished — only you did
not wish, and you regarded anyone who did almost as
if he were a Nonconformist.

Natural science, botany, chemistry, mechanics, geology
— all these things you could learn if you liked, but such
studies were held in contempt, and the good Mr James
Wilson, who gave instruction in natural science, was called
Jim " Stinks," not in an opprobrious sense, but as signify-
ing the line of his teaching. Another Natural Science
master, Rev. T. N. Hutchinson, went by the name of
" Beaklet," to distinguish him from his elder brother,
Rev. C. B. Hutchinson, who was a house-master, known
as " Beak," presumably because he had a longish nose.
Natural science used to include botany, and of this
Mr Frank Kitchener, whose acquaintance I had made
earlier, was the master, but somehow we were never
encouraged to take up these outside subjects, Classics
being considered more important by far. Mr Kitchener,
it is clear, took some interest in me, for there is a letter,
dated I4th October 1866, in which I wrote :

I went to breakfast with Mr Kitchener the other day. He had
been botanising all the time he was at the Lakes ; so I am not
sorry I did not join him there.

Nevertheless, most of us had some taste in plants and
flowers, as the box gardens outside our study windows

NO MORE FAGGING 79

round the quadrangle used to show, but there was a
conservative shrinking from any subject of education
that savoured of novelty. Even modern languages were
regarded by most of us with contempt, and the teachers
of them were treated with scant respect.

There were eight boarding-houses — viz. the School
House, Arnold's, Burrows', Bowden Smith's, Jex-Blake's,
Hutchinson's, Moberly's and Wilson's.

The House supper at the end of that first term dwells in
my mind, for some of our seeming demigods were leaving,
one of them being Ingham, son of the well-known police
magistrate. He had obtained that year the first of the
five exhibitions given by the school, and he went to
Christ Church. What I thought of these departures is
shown by the following extract from a letter written at
the beginning of the next term :

Venables and Ingham have left for College, which weakens our
house considerably at football. I don't suppose we shall be
nearly the best this half.

I remember catching sight of Ingham a good many
years later, and he was by no means so gigantic and
Herculean as one imagined him at the early period.
By the end of the term it had been settled that I was
to go next term into the Upper School, and this ended
my personal experience as a fag.

CHAPTER VII

In the Upper School — " Plug " — Batley transplants the big
Tree — Irascible Powell — Stuart Wortley — Learning German
— Through the Lower Fifth into the Fifth — Death of my
Mother — Through the Fifth into the Twenty — My first
Breech-loader — My first Grouse — An astounding Drive to
Saltersgate Moor — Shooting at Daybreak

IN my second term at the school I was in the Lower
Vth, the division of it over which the Rev. C. T.
Arnold presided. He was a somewhat ponderous
gentleman whom we called " Plug," and really that name
gave quite a good general impression of him. I got on well
with him, but I remember little of his methods of teaching
except that once he gave us a subject on which to write
Latin and English verse, the one to be a translation of
the other. There was a big tree in the Close, so near to
the old chapel that certain improvements in the building
could not be carried out, for the tree was so highly
esteemed that the idea of felling it was not for a moment
entertained. A way out of the difficulty was found by
a man named Batley, who undertook to move the tree
a distance of about fifty yards and establish it well and
flourishing in its new site. What is more, he and his men
did the work with perfect success, and it was at the begin-
ning of their enterprise that we were told to write Latin
and English verse on the subject.

Unimportant things remain strangely in the memory
while memorable ones are forgotten, and so it is that even
now I can recall how I wrote :

Batleius ille, quem videtis hospites,
Ait redemptor esse callidissimus.

That Batley there whom, stranger folk,

You see before your eyes,
A bold contractor boasts to be,

But not more bold than wise.

80

"OLD" POWELL 81

And so on, Latin and English, to further explanation
of Batley's contract.

That is all I can charge my memory with in connection
with the Rev. " Plug's " tuition, but I know I made several
good friends that term.

I had a study with Frederick York Powell, who was
my senior by more than a year, and was reputed to be
of Spanish extraction, solely — I dare say — because he
adorned the study with one or two Spanish knives, and
was of a very hasty temper. Charles Beilby Stuart
Wortley was my contemporary in the same house, and he
had a study with a youth named Kynnersley. I somehow
engineered a feud between them and Powell which caused
me great diversion, until one day, in a hasty moment,
Powell jabbed me in the leg with one of his Spanish knives,
not meaning it, I am sure, but the mark remains to this
day. Poor " old " Powell ! he was much upset by what he
had done, and, of course, it didn't matter. Shortly after-
wards he hit a Vlth form fellow, Leigh Bennett, on the
head with a broom handle, as he entered our study, the
only excuse being that he (Powell) thought it was Kynners-
ley. Needless to say, that excuse did not avail him.

Powell later on rose to distinction as Regius Professor
of Modem History at Oxford, in succession to J. A. Froude,
and there is a record of him in the Encyclopedia Britannica.

How it is that boys at school become intimate friends
no one ever knows, and they themselves do not, as a rule,
remember. I am sure I don't know how it was that I
first came to know Stuart Wortley, and he is even less
likely to remember when he first regarded me except
as one of the other fellows ; but somehow we did become
friends throughout all the time at school and later, at
Oxford, and later still, on the N.-E. Circuit, until our
paths diverged — he to Parliamentary duties and I to
horse-breeding and journalism. It is a strange world,
but I know well that the old friendship is not
forgotten.

There remained always at that time and later the

82 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

same strange contempt for subjects outside the Classics,
Divinity and History. A German lesson was regarded as
an opportunity for mere fooling, and the master — his
name was Grenfell — was known simply as the Man. Poor
fellow ! He did his best, but my learning of German
even throughout five years never made me master of the
rudiments of the language. I had a watch the checkspring
of which was broken, and if wound up it would run off the
whole twenty-four hours in about five minutes, making a
considerable buzzing noise in so doing. It was a frequent
custom, during a German lesson, to wind up this watch
and then pass it along from hand to hand so that the un-
fortunate Man, though desperately annoyed by its buzzing,
could never track it home. That was but one of the
trials to which he was subjected.

What chances we miss in our young days ! Even
German would, of course, have been useful, if one had
cared to master the language, but somehow one didn't
and was not encouraged to do so.

Some of us there were with a taste for music, and among
these Stuart Wortley was pre-eminent. From the first
he was a pianist almost of genius, and he managed to
keep his music going even at school, which is a rare event
among boys. There was a piano in the hall in our house,
and there were music masters, but I never saw one of
them. .

All this early period was really uneventful, save that,
so far as I am concerned, I again found that the Lower
Vth was comparative child's play, and got out of it in one
short term, so that on returning after the Easter holidays
of that year, 1866, I wrote to my mother a letter which,
for a very special reason, I am thankful for having had
occasion to write. It is dated Rugby, 2oth April 1866,
and says :

I arrived here safely yesterday. Scarcely any one had come,
so I wished that I had come by a later train. I have got fairly
head by the examination and get out head into the Fifth, since
ours is the senior division of the Lower Fifths.

GLOOM 83

The letter from which I quote the above was sent on
by my mother to my sister, enclosed in a letter from
herself, saying :

Just a minute before the post comes to enclose you W.'s letter.
Mind and take care of it. Does he not do wonderfully ? I had
a drive this morning and took Eliza Rhodes. I feel much better,
and hope, with God's blessing, soon to be well again.

I would not have quoted from those two letters were
it not that mine was, I feel almost sure, the very last I
ever wrote to my mother. Her own letter — which I
had never seen until quite recently — shows that she was
gratified by the news which mine contained, and for that
I am indeed thankful. I had no knowledge at that time
that she was ill. Boys are never told about such troubles,
but it is clear that my sister knew.

Less than two months after my letter was written my
mother was dead — I2th July 1866 — and I had thus lost
both parents within a year.

It is better not to dwell on mournful incidents of the
past. Again Mr Jex-Blake had broken the bad news to
me with kindly words, and as I waited at Rugby station
that time I saw a black railway engine with just a green
patch on it. I interpreted this to mean that my mother
was still alive, and she was so on my arrival at home,
just sufficiently to know me, but two nights later I was
sent hurriedly to the Rectory to summon Mr Kingsley,
whose house door had been left open so that I could go
straight in and up to his bedroom. He woke up and
came along within ten minutes. The end was very near,
though it did not actually come until late in the following
afternoon.

Let us pass on, for the blow had fallen, and reminiscences
of it are futile.

I went back to school to finish the term and its examina-
tions, this time without conspicuous success — for that,
in the circumstances, could hardly be expected — but
the result sufficed to get me out of the Vth form into the

84 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Twenty for the following term. Then came the summer
holidays, spent at Sleights Vicarage, near Whitby, the
vicar's wife, Mrs Walker, being my aunt on my mother's
side, and the Rev. T. Walker was one of the executors
of my father's will.

Sorrows quickly lose their poignancy when we are
young, and by the first week in August I was vastly excited
about a new gun which had been bought for me from
W. R. Pape, of Newcastle. Hitherto I had handled
nothing but muzzle-loaders, of which my father had some
very good ones, but this was a pin-fire breech-loader,
1 6 bore, and a really beautiful light gun. Pape's guns
had won The Field gun trials three years, and the
joy of possessing one of these champion weapons was
indeed great. With it came instructions for loading
cartridges, with sundry little measures for powder and
shot, and a machine to screw on to a table. In that
machine you could turn down the edges of the cartridge
on the end wad. It was all very primitive, but there was
vast pleasure even in loading cartridges after screwing the
machine to one of my aunt's tables. The cleaning of the
gun, scrupulously according to instructions, was also a
constant delight, and the culminating event was that
I should go grouse-shooting on Saltersgate Moor on the
I2th. It was easy to get permission to shoot on Salters-
gate Moor in those days — so easy that the only chance of
any success was to commence shooting at the very first
break of day before the crowd of shooters had arrived.
A neighbouring farmer, named Mead, had arranged to
drive a dog-cart to the scene of action in the small hours
of the appointed morning, and he agreed to call for me.
I had sent for a pointer dog from home, and now let me
quote from The Sport of Shooting, written by me years
ago, for it is perfectly accurate in its details of this
expedition.

" I had most carefully prepared my bag of cartridges,
gun and all accoutrements. Don had been discreetly fed

SALTERSGATE MOOR 85

and exercised, so that his condition appeared better than
it had been, and his breathing was certainly less stertorous.
As for a game-bag, Mead said that his man would carry
that, and so there was no more to think of, except as to
whether it would be well to go to bed at all or not over-
night.

" I did not like to trust anyone to wake me, but as I
happened to have an alarum with me, I concluded to
trust it, and so, setting it to one o'clock, I essayed to snatch
a few hours of rest.

" Breakfast had been laid out for me overnight, and
when I was startled from what seemed but a momentary
period of repose by the noise of the alarum I certainly felt
that I should have been better advised had I not gone to
bed at all. There was my cold bath, and very untempting
it seemed : nevertheless I resolutely entered it. ...
I felt cold, shaky and unrefreshed, as I went downstairs,
where I found a little servant was already bestirring herself
and boiling the kettle to make me tea.

" The tea and a little food certainly improved me, but
I shivered as I looked out into the night and then stepped
gingerly forth to fetch Don from the outhouse. The
wind blew chill and there was a slight drizzling rain, so I
was glad to get back into the house with the liberated
dog. . . . Then I sat down at one side of the kitchen fire,
and the little servant, half dead with sleep, bestowed
herself upon a stool in the corner. Don became pensive
and blinked at the flickering flames. I was half nodding
off to sleep when suddenly the sound of wheels aroused
me and I started up as I heard them stop opposite the
house. Then came a prolonged shout, ' Yo-ho-hup ! '
and I knew that Mead had arrived, so I hurried to the
door, called out : ' All right/ and quickly collecting gun,
greatcoat and ammunition, summoned Don and sallied
forth.

" ' Good-morning, sir/ said Mead, with what seemed to
me revolting heartiness — for he did not mean it by way
of joke — ' we're in nice time. Here, John, get down and

86 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

help to put that dog into the trap. I dare say he and old
Ponto won 't quarrel ! ' . . . John deposited Don in the
dog-cart, whence at once arose irritable and ominous
expostulations on the part of Ponto, and deep minatory
grumblings from my dog. . . . However a few rough
objurgations addressed by John to the pair served to
quiet them.

" I took my seat alongside Mead and with John behind
we started on our way. It was quite dark, and for my
part I was not inclined for conversation, but my com-
panion rattled on about the moor and his previous ex-
periences of it, the birds and the dogs and the men that
had been shot there. ' For/ said he, ' it gets like the
battle of Waterloo after an hour or two, when people
have drawn up from all sides.'

" The idea seemed hardly pleasant to me, but I was
laboriously engaged walking up Blue Bank, which necessi-
tated our getting down at a very early period of the drive,
and plodding away on foot for most of a mile before we
reached the top. . . . Arrived on level ground we once
more took our seats. . . . There was silence for a few
moments. We were driving through a regular Scotch
mist which filled the eyes with cold water. The lamps
glared dimly through it.

" At that moment one dog took umbrage at the other —
I fancy a jolt of the vehicle shook them together, so that
they mutually regarded themselves as having been
insulted, and, without more, they fell to and fought in
deadly wise under the seat and among our legs. The
snarling, barking, swearing, struggling, snapping and
gnashing was so frightful that there is small wonder that
our horse bolted in very panic, and away we went fast
and furious in the mist and darkness, while the combat
raged in perilous proximity to our shrinking calves.

" We had infallibly been bitten, but that another fate
was in store for us. The horse got off the road, it being
impossible to see our way at the rate we were going, and
in a very few moments a bump, as he crossed some ' grip '

HOW WE GOT THERE 87

or hollow, caused Mead to fly sidelong from the vehicle,
still retaining a sitting posture, while I, on whom the force
of the excellent springs seemed to have had more effect,
was propelled high into the air — also to the right — and
descended head downwards . . . and penetrated to some
depth through the yielding surface of my landing-place.
Mead soon extricated me, and I was none the worse, save
for a coating of mire over my face and head. Meanwhile
John, holding on like grim death to the back seat of the
dog-cart, had been so taken up by his own position that he
never knew we had gone until the horse, some hundred
yards further on, plunged knee-deep in the treacherous
ground and fell. In consequence of this John performed
a back somersault away over the horse's head, and the
dogs were flung out over the splash-board, which caused
them to cease their bloody battle for the time being.

" It was quite a marvel that no damage of any kind
seemed to have been done to man, beast or vehicle.
Ponto and Don presented a gory appearance but that was
the result of their battle. The horse got on his legs again
after a little difficulty, and, though at first much alarmed,
soon grew quiet as we led him back to the road when we
had gathered up the guns and other paraphernalia. The
pointers still showing signs of enmity, we decided to put
Ponto in the trap and make Don run, so that they might
be effectually separated. Once more then we took our
seats. ... At last in the grey misty light of dawn we
reached our destination and Mead and I got down at the
boundary of the moor, while John went and put the horse
up somewhere hard by. Our guns, cartridges and every-
thing else were duly in order, and all was ready for a start
— except that there was hardly sufficient light as yet.
' We are in plenty of time after all,' said Mead. It was
a quarter to four o'clock. No one else seemed to be
in the vicinity, and I felt as if about to take part in a
night attack on some enemy. The feud between Don and
Ponto now began to break out again, and renewed strife
was imminent. . . . At last, in spite of the abusive threats

88 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

of John, they could be no longer restrained and were
falling to in all fury ; so that Mead exclaimed : ' It's no
use. These dogs'll never agree and they'll frighten all
the birds off the place. We must each go different ways,
and each take his own dog.' Suiting the action to the
word, before I had time to ask for directions, he beat
the dogs asunder and hurried away, leading Ponto by
the ear, and I was left alone with Don."

Thus far I quote from The Sport of Shooting (Routledge
& Sons), for it is a faithful report of what happened,
and I am able to verify it from one of the letters written
to my sister, the first sheet of which is missing, but it
takes up the story thus :

SLEIGHTS,
[Date, no doubt, i$th Aug. 1866.]

man in the gig who was supposed to be thoroughly acquainted
with the road led the horse. [It would seem that John got down
for this purpose. — W. A.]. Even then we drove into the moor
several times. We arrived a little before four and soon started
shooting. At about four o'clock, I heard bang, bang, bang,
and great shouts. " Now then, look out ! " said Mead (that is
the man's name) firing up into the air, with no effect. I saw
a black object looming in the distance, and fired vaguely into
space, and, of course, missed. The fortunate grouse escaped
everybody (there were now about seven shooting).

After this, you can imagine my disgust on finding that the
dog, which I have fed myself every day and taken the greatest
possible pains with, would persist in following and fighting with
Mead's dog, and, when driven away, turned sulky and would not
range ; so I could only get a chance at birds which had been shot
at by someone else and, of course, were much harder to hit, as
they flew faster. However, my second shot was more successful,
at 4.5 A.M. (of course I timed my first grouse), driven, of course,
by the shots fired at it. Mead [now some distance away] saw it,
but could not get a shot. " Now then I '•' he cried ; nearer it
came ; thoughts flitted through my mind as to the consequences
if I missed it. My hand trembled, I pointed my weapon . . .
and as the smoke cleared away an attentive observer might
have seen an inanimate and white-trousered bird, lying on the
heather, and a youth apparently of about 15 years of age making

MY FIRST GROUSE 89

frantic attempts to load again in less than no time, on account
of his extreme desire to pick up the game — it, of course, being
unsportsmanlike to advance with empty gun.

About ten minutes after, I got another shot at a driven bird
and killed it — at least knocked it over — and while endeavouring
to extinguish the remnant of its life, lost sight of Mead, and as
there was now a thick mist completely lost myself until it cleared
away. There were by this time about 60 people shooting, and
as my dog would not range, but "shivering follow at my heel,!J
I got no more. We set off home again at 9 o'clock A.M., and thus
ended my first morning of grouse shooting.

I may as well add here that I have shot a good many
grouse since that morning, but none have left a memory
so fresh and happy as did that first brace.

This, however, is a holiday interlude. I must revert
to Rugby in the winter term of 1866, when I took my
place in the Twenty, of which Jex-Blake, to whom I was
sincerely attached, was the master.

CHAPTER VIII

Jex-Blake and his Influence — How I saw him at Assouan — Mr
Gubbins and Sam Darling not Egyptologists — Jex-Blake and
the Victor Wild Verses — He leaves Rugby for Cheltenham —
Rugby Contemporaries — The Rifle Corps — I defeat Humphry
at Shooting — Stevenson — Other Notables — Blair Athol's
the Blood — Through Four Forms in Four Terms — Concerning
the Sixth — " Jex " and my " Character '' — The Rabbit
Supper

TO say that I was sincerely attached to Jex-Blake
is but a very mild statement of truth. His
influence was always for good, and I only wish
that he had remained longer at the school. What manner
of influence he had may be judged from the following
story. It happened, during the period now under notice,
that I wanted, from sheer idleness, to absent myself from
a German lesson one afternoon, and asked Jex-Blake for
permission, alleging that I had a headache and felt unwell.
He immediately agreed, and then, within ten minutes,
though I do not pretend to have been a George Washington
at any time, I felt it was not the game to tell lies to old
" Jex," and sat down at once to write him a letter owning
up that there was nothing the matter with me, and that I
was very sorry. I left this in his room when I had seen
him go out, and very soon I got an answer :

DEAR ALLISON,

Quite right. I always did believe you unreservedly
and I always shall.

T. W. J. B.

The subject was never mentioned again, but it is needless
to say that I never again abused his confidence. That
was a man who knew just how to touch whatever good
principle you had in you.

90

JEX-BLAKE 91

It is a matter of great regret to me that the last time I
saw Jex-Blake, who was then Dean of Wells, I did not go
up and speak to him. It was at the principal hotel at
Assouan in 1903, and he was lunching there with Mrs Jex-
Blake and several of his numerous family. They were going
on to Khartoum. I was lunching at another table with
Mr Gubbins and Sam Darling, and we too had been going
to Khartoum, but my companions, not being Egyptologists,
had got sick of seeing temples and tombs, and persuaded
me to cancel our tickets and go back to Cairo. But for
this I should have been with Jex-Blake on the Nile boat
to Khartoum, and, as it was, I hesitated to go and interrupt
him and his luncheon-party. So we went away and I
never saw him again.

One of my Rugby letters to my sister, dated 7th April
1867, gives a pretty good impression of his kindly
sympathy. The following is an extract : —

I and two other fellows walked last Wednesday to Stanfield
Hall, about nine miles from here. When we had got about
half way there, we heard a noise and up came Jex taking Mrs Jex
out for a drive. We got up behind and, after driving for some
distance, were turned out, as they were going in a different
direction.

We got there after losing our way. The style of thing was a
house, deer, lake, swans. We returned by train, much too late
for tea ; but Jex, having, wonderful to relate, remembered that
we were out, had made them keep the water boiling, so we made
coffee, etc. in our own study.

This was, of course, but a trifling incident, but it
shows in a nutshell the terms on which we were with
" Jex," and his thoughtfulness for all of us. There never
was a better sort.

Once, in long later years, when I had written some Latin
verses on Victor Wild and the big weight given to him for
the Lincoln Handicap, entitled Victor Furens de onere im-
posito, and published them in The Sportsman, I sent a copy
to Doctor Jex-Blake, half fearing that he would express
disappointment at my having become a sporting journalist,

92 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

but in the face of this trial he was still perfect, for he
wrote : "I fear your verses are too good for your readers ;
but in all things character commands success."

It was at the end of 1868 that we lost our inimitable
house-master, who was taken away as headmaster of
Cheltenham. In a letter dated i5th December that
year I wrote :

I believe we are almost certain to lose Mr Jex- Blake. He has
got such very good testimonials.

I think he would fain have stayed where he was, at
Rugby, but he had a large family of daughters and, up
to then, no son : so I suppose he accepted promotion as
a matter of family duty.

There were many good fellows at Rugby in those
days, and among them none remains more notable than
F. C. Selous, whose fame was destined to become world-
wide. He came up in the January term of 1866, and was
in Wilson's house. Contemporary with him at that
house were C. K. Francis, the well-known police magistrate,
whose bowling was always much argued about but was
singularly effective ; Harry Badger, now the best known
York solicitor, and — somewhat younger — John Feilden
Brocklehurst — whom I believe they called " Sloper " —
whether from some fancied resemblance to that character
or not — but who became a fine figure of a man and is
now Lord Ranksborough.

Now that I have started on this sort of list, how is it
to be ended within a reasonable limit ?

There were two Tobins in our house, both very fine
cricketers and well worthy to be mentioned even with
Pauncefote, Venables, Francis and Yardley. These Tobins
were cousins, and young Tobin became captain of the
first Rugby Rifle Corps, which was enrolled in 1867,
and of which A. P. Humphry was one of the corporals.
His name will always be remembered in connection with
rifle shooting, for, some years later, he won the Queen's
Prize at Wimbledon, and there is a Humphry Prize

MY CONTEMPORARIES 93

shot for annually now. Yet I once beat him in shooting
for a sweepstake at school. He and I had tied with our
final shot at 500 yards, and had to take one more chance
as a decider. He shot first and made a centre. My
form at 500 yards was most erratic, being, often enough,
two or three misses and then a bull, but on this particular
occasion I brought off the bull, though none of us at that
time anticipated the future fame of the marksman whom
I defeated.

Boys at school are strange beings, and there was one
fellow in our house who had been " sent to Coventry "
before I went to the school. Of course I do not mention
his name, and we were never told by the older division
what his offence had been ; but the punishment was a
grievous one, for no one ever spoke to him, or took the
slightest notice of him. He had entered the school in 1863,
being then thirteen years old, and he possessed considerable
ability, but his life must have been one of deadly gloom.

Another curious case was that of W. E. Stevenson,
who entered in 1865, and was also in our house. He was
black -haired and swarthy, but amiable and well-meaning.
Whether from lack of a sense of humour or some peculiar
kink of temperament that made him a prototype of
Mr Bultitude, among boys, he could never hit it off with
any of the others and remained to the last a recluse who
was made a butt of when he chanced to emerge from
obscurity. Poor Stevenson ! I met him in later years,
when I had been urged to assist the formation of the
Liberal Union Club by writing about it in St Stephen's
Review. The visible promoters did not seem to me to
be very substantial, and I asked, before going further,
to be introduced to the great capitalist who, they said,
was behind them. It was agreed at last that I should
meet him at luncheon, and when I did so — who should it
turn out to be but Stevenson ! He seemed really pleased
to meet me again, but, poor chap 1 I am afraid that the
Liberal Union Club was not very long before it had
absorbed his capital.

94 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

One of Sir William Gallwey's sons, Lionel, went to
Rugby the same term that I did, but what has come of
him I know not. Then there was William Warner, who
has for many years been one of the leading luminaries
of Oxford. He was entered in our house only two months
later than myself. He was my great rival so far as school
distinction was concerned, but always one of my best
friends, both there and at Oxford. He was of quite a
different type from my other friends, being, indeed, of an
exemplary character, but he was a musician of quite rare
class — as boys go — and a pianist whom even the most
thoughtless could not fail to appreciate. Another con-
temporary in our house was Phipps John Hornby, now a
venerable archdeacon — videlicet of Lancaster. He was,
in my time, " Young " Hornby, for his elder brother,
Hugh Phipps Hornby, was also among us, being one of
the 1863 entry.

In January, 1867, there came to the school Charles
William Lloyd Bulpett, who developed into one of
the best long-distance runners of his day, and set up
a new record for the " Crick." He was in Wilson's
house, along with Selous and the others that I have
mentioned.

Then another of the very best was Sydney Parker, son
of the then Lord Macclesfield, and he was one of the select
coterie in our house, where he came in May, 1867. Another
excellent sportsman was Ralph Thurston Bassett, entered
in 1866. It was to him more than to anyone else that I
propounded my great breeding theory, the formula of
which was : " Blair Athol's the blood ! "

It may be well to refrain from a further extension of
this catalogue, but additional characters will drop in as
my story proceeds.

It may seem strange, after my recent vicissitudes, that
I should have settled down very easily to work in the
Twenty, under" Jex-Blake, but it evidently was so, for it
was not more than three weeks after the beginning of that
winter term of 1866 when I wrote :

MENTAL GYMNASTICS 95

(Jet. i^th, 1866.

I hope to get into the Sixth at Xmas — at least to get my place
kept in it, for I sha'n't be old enough to go into it before next
Midsummer ; but, of course, when your place is kept in the Sixth
it goes up just the same as if you were in it, and may be ever
so high by the time you are old enough to enter.

The hope expressed in the above was fulfilled, and I
did get into the VI th at the end of that term, being second
in the Twenty to Warner's first. We both had to wait
until after Midsummer before we could take our places
hi the VI th, as no one under sixteen was supposed to have
sufficient personal authority to be entrusted with Vlth
form powers. When we did ultimately go to the places
appointed for us, Warner found himself twenty-first in
the school and I was twenty-second, out of a total of
forty-nine in the Vlth form. That was in the winter
term of 1867.

Mr Wells and others think little of Public School educa-
tion, and they may be right. At any rate, I am sure we
set far too much store in those days on subjects of very
little practical importance. Treating the matter, however,
as simply one of mental gymnastics, I had done something
like a record by walking through four forms in four terms,
and reaching the Vlth form when I had still three and a
half years to pass at Rugby. As places in the Vlth go
up automatically as the older division, who are above you,
leave, it was, of course, obvious that without any further
trouble on my part I must rise to near the head of the
school, but Warner, being as young as I was, would always
keep his lead. The arrangement seems to me to have
been an unwise one, for the stimulus of competition
ceased, and it was very tempting to look forward to three
years of having a good time while doing only just so
much work as would keep you out of absolute trouble
with the authorities.

While there was still something to be fought for I had
put in my best efforts, and in saying I " walked " through
the Twenty, I am far from claiming that it was in the nature

g6 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

of a walk-over. Far from it ; in a letter, dated 2ist October
1866, there is the following : —

I shall come home with a most haggard appearance, the effects
of reading for the examination. Besides getting up subjects
you have done during the half, you are obliged to take up three
extra subjects, such as about 250 pages of some very dry history ;
a book of Stanley's on some subject or other ; about 500 Latin
lines ; about half an arithmetic book of sums to do, or half an
Algebra (always much the latter half) ; some horrid French
book to prepare, etc., etc. I think I shall take up History, Divinity
and the Lines, although they require the hardest work, but I
think I can do them best.

Thus, there was evidently something to do, and I
should perhaps explain that the 500 Latin lines were to
be committed to memory. It was the football season,
however, and one got plenty of exercise. In the same
letter I read :

I am at present rather sore from the effects of football yester-
day ; but what I feel the most is a hack just above my heel,
on the sinew, given me by someone of our own side who was
standing behind and missed the object he intended to hit and
hit me instead.

It is evident also, from a later letter in the same term,
that creature comforts were not neglected, when it came
to the usual Saturday night suppers in our studies :

We had a capital supper of rabbits last night. Only the most
aggravating thing was that just as we began, Jex sent for me to
let me see my Character, and kept me about half-an-hour discuss-
ing who it was to be sent to, and I knew all the time that the
•' wittles was cooling," and was not quite certain as to whether
they might not all be eaten by the time I came back ; but I found
the other fellows had waited for me and the "wittles," being
down before the fire, had taken no harm.

You must send me another hamper soon, as we are just out of
provisions. Mind it has plenty in it.

The Old Rug. match comes off next week. The school are
sure to be beaten as there are about 200 great fat old fellows
to 80 of the school.

MY " CHARACTER " 97

The letter from which the above is extracted has no
date, but was written near the end of that winter term,
1866, as the allusion to my " character " and the old
"Rug." match clearly indicate. Poor Jex-Blake must
have been sorely perplexed as to my home status, and
whether the discussion of it with me resulted in the
" character " being forwarded to Mr Arrowsmith, I cannot
remember. If it was, it would, no doubt, be filed among
title-deeds and other legal documents in a tin box. It
was a good " character " anyhow, and it was kind of
" Jex " to show it to me, for doubtless I should never
know anything about it otherwise.

CHAPTER IX

Out of Control — Money and Doctor's Certificates — Mr Arrow-
smith's Cornucopia — " Bob " Colling finds me a Horse —
Tragedy of the Fifth Form Verse and Prose — Browne Quarts. !
— Rifle Shooting Extraordinary — Shot by Ramrods— The
Windsor Review — Selous and the Swans — Installed in the
Sixth Form — I read a Lesson — Concerning my Duties

HITHERTO, even the most virulent anti-gambler
would find it difficult to carp at my progress
in life, but the time had come when I was
practically out of control. Dear old Mr Arrowsmith,
who was to all intents and purposes my guardian, never
pretended for a moment to exercise any sort of authority
over me, and I cannot recall that he ever refused to send
money whenever I asked for it. As early as the spring
of 1867 I took to extending holidays by several weeks,
but, being attached to school and my friends there, I
was always careful to provide adequate excuses. It was
easy to get my old friend, Dr Ryott, to certify that I was
unfit to leave home for just as long as I wished to stay
there. The good man had a rooted belief that, but for
his watchful care over my childhood, I should not have
lived, and it was a simple matter to go to him, with a
doleful countenance, and he would at once certify that I
was ill.

Some may think it strange that I stayed at school at
all, but one often sees a riderless horse in a steeplechase
do very much the same sort of thing. He carries on with
the rest of the field, sometimes missing a fence altogether,
sometimes going in front, sometimes dropping back,
but never quite abandoning the game. The last three
years of my school life were passed in a very similar
erratic fashion.

98

MR ARROWSMITH 99

I find two letters written in the first part of 1867 which
fairly illustrate how Mr Arrowsmith was regarded even
at that period. Both are to my sister, and one says :

Tell Mr Arrowsmith to send money instantly. . . . This is
important ; no delay can be brooked.

The other says :

Mr A. sent plenty of money for present needs.

Here is another extract :

The state of Mr A. 's intellect is becoming alarming.

The eve of Valentine's day I drew two figures, one for him and
one for me. I was depicted as holding a long bill in my hand.
" Guardian and Ward " underneath.

Mr A. says: "Do you think ^4 will cover it?" I reply:
"I think so." [Aside] " I only owe £i ." Now obviously, to any-
one with a grain of sense, this referred to my having already
received so much more than I wanted for my debts. But lo !
this morning I receive a letter from Mr A. I open it and a
P.O.O. flutters out. I examine the amount — £4! Letter says
he has duly received my epistle and forwards me ^4 as requested !

Here is another extract from an undated letter, written
during the summer of 1867 :

Did I ever tell you about Mr Arrowsmith and my school bills
last holidays ? I sent John one day to take them to him, and
Tom and I went to Thirsk two days after. In the course of
conversation with Mr A. he said : " Ah, let me see, have I had
your school bills yet ? " I told him, of course he had, as I had
sent him them just before. He said : " Well, it may be so. I
may have had them, or I may not — I may have paid them,
or I may not — for anything I know. Perhaps I had better ask
James about it."

So on, through many letters, one of which has already
been mentioned in the Prologue, in reference to the
" Kingcraft orgy."

In 1869 I wrote :

Threaten Mr A. with my direst vengeance if a horse is not
obtained before I come back. li it is a good hunter that is the
main thing, as it can easily be made a hack to a certain extent.

ioo " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Then again :

Mr A. is being urged on by almost daily letters from me and
visits from Tom to get a horse. He has commissioned Cole to
buy one at Sir C. Constable's sale.

Cole, mentioned above, was the straightforward and
popular horse-dealer, Tom Cole, who had a stable near
Thirsk station. He failed to buy what was wanted at
the sale, and writing from Rugby, on loth December 1869,
I gave the following intimation :

I dare say I shall bring a horse back with me. Mr Colling has
discovered one where he is now staying near Loughbro', which
will be warranted, and is a capital hunter and drives well. He is
going to ride the horse himself to make further trial and will let
me know the result.

It will interest a good many younger people to know
that " Mr Colling " was Bob Colling, son of that grand
old sportsman, the late John Colling, of Hurworth, and
this same Bob Colling — as good a man on a horse as you
could wish to see — is the father of Bob Colling, who is now
one of the most successful trainers at Newmarket, and
was, earlier on, a first-rate jockey.

Bob Colling the elder is alive now, and at the time of my
letter he was staying with a friend of his named Paget,
from whom he bought for me a horse whose reputation
even now lingers in North Yorkshire. His name was
Cobweb. He was a hog-maned, powerful beast, very
short of breeding, but an extraordinary jumper, especially
at timber and water. His owner had schooled him at
timber by always riding him at the post, so that he
never chanced it, and indeed, if left to himself, would
jump the post rather than the rails. He lasted me a good
many years, but what he cost I do not remember. That,
of course, was a matter for Mr Arrowsmith.

In pursuit of a horse I have gone too far ahead, and must
revert to that first term of 1867, when my place was in
the Vlth, but corporeally I was in the Twenty. Already
the blight of being out of control had commenced, and I

THE VTH FORM VERSE 101

had contrived to cut five weeks out of that term, thanks
to Dr Ryott and his certificates. Thus, on 2oth April 1867 :

All the work of the term is now over. The Fifth form verse and
prose have both been sent in ; the Exam., of which there are only
4 papers at Easter, is half finished. I am second in marks for
the term (of course having an average for the time I have been
away). I am head for the Composition of the last five weeks,
but as Warner was head during the first 5 when I was not here,
and has also done many more Copies than I have, we are counted
equal, altogether, so I suppose I shall get a prize of some kind.

Dispassionate reasoning would seem to prove that
Warner was certainly entitled to the first place on the
above showing, but it did not matter in the least to either
of us as our places in the Vlth were already unalterable.
My dropping five weeks out of the term, however, had
already begun to tell its tale, for in the same letter as
above :

I had rather a disappointment in my last Copy ; the last one
I shall do in the Twenty. I made up my mind to get it " sent
up," and so it would have been only in the last line over which I
had rather hurried, there was an unaccountable mistake.

Am I writing for present-day boys ? Well, perhaps
at this stage. To them it may be well to say, with the
orthodox preacher : " Oh, my young friends, take warning
from this awful example of neglected opportunities !
Read this next letter and beware ; but before reading it,
understand that what was called the Vth form verse and
prose involved two prizes, for which all in the Twenty,
Vth and two divisions of the Lower Vth could compete,
and there used to be considerable excitement over the
result. As stated in the letter of the 2oth April, the com-
peting copies had then been sent in. Now mark what
happened."

RUGBY, June i6th 1867.

The Vth Form verse and prose is now a thing of the past ; it
was read out last Thursday : I did not get either ; worse than
that, I did not even get a second for either. Stuart Wortley

102 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

got both ; at least he got the prose and was equal first with
Kynnersley for the verse. Gray was second for the verse, who
never beat me for a copy in his life ; and Browne quarts, was
2nd for the prose, who is not even in the Twenty, but rather
low down in the Fifth.

So much for my stopping away and doing nothing last term,
and doing these things when I was in no sort of form at all !

I shouldn't mind so much having been beaten by Warner or
anyone of that kind, but Browne quarts, whom I never even heard
of before, is terrible ! One consolation is, Warner is in the same
predicament as myself. I beat him for the verse by being next
to Gray, and he beat me for the prose by coming next to Browne
quarts. Another consolation is that Browne quarts, must have
got his prose done by some Sixth fellow in his House, as no one can
ever get an idea of doing it until he is in the Twenty. I made
two horrid mistakes in the verse, and one horrid mistake in the
prose. This was the effect of my staying away, as I never do
such a thing except in the first Copy or two of a term. The worst
of it is that I know I could have got it if I had been in practice,
and that I could get it now, if it came over again — at least I mean
the verse ; I am not quite certain of the prose.

I always hated my own verse for I could see it was not my
best, but was still unable to make it better ; the last part I knew
was good, for I was beginning to get more into the swing. The
whole thing was too long. I could put just as much sense into
about half as many lines now.

When I look at Stuart Wortley's and Kynnersley 's verses I
am driven distracted by the certainty that I could do better.
As a proof of that, Kynnersley never has got so many marks as I
have for a copy ; (he was quite an outsider, but I always liked his
verses better than any of the others I read last term), and Stuart
Wortley, as you know, has never since I got into the Twenty
been anywhere near me for Composition. Added to that he did
all his on Good Friday, the last day, which was such an extra-
ordinarily short time that no one could have expected him to do
anything. I can't think what Warner was about not getting
the prose, as he is so very good at it. All together, it is most
mysterious. However, I don't care much as there are heaps of
the same kind of things to be got in the Sixth, and I shall be sure
to get some of them as I don't intend to stop away again.

Clearly there had come a very salutary lesson over this
trifling storm in a teacup which seems to have troubled
me seriously. I am sure Lord Stuart of Wortley and the
other successful competitors — Browne quarts, in particular

MUZZLE-LOADING ENFIELDS 103

— will not mind the egotistic remarks at their expense ;
indeed it is plain from the terms of the letter that
Stuart Wortley's performance was a very remarkable
one. I remember the subject of those verses. It was
" Belshazzar's Feast," and I also remember that Stevenson,
with true Stevensonian solemnity, began his effort with :

Illud erat tempus quum vis Chaldaea vigebat,

but of what I or anyone else wrote I have preserved not
the faintest memory.

Yet we did think a lot of that competition. In an
earlier letter, dated 7th April, I see that I wrote :

Can you tell me a good motto to put on the back of my Fifth
form Verse and Prose ? If you like you can send me 3 yards or
so of black and blue half-inch ribbons to tie them up with. Take
care it is before Saturday, as we show up the Prose then.

The result of this disappointment and humiliation —
for it appears to have struck me as such — was that I
stuck to school all right that year, and there was plenty
of less harassing work — for example, in the Rifle Corps,
which numbered eighty-six, including officers and N.C.O.'s.
I have the list before me, and among the privates there are :
Allison, Stuart Wortley, Kynnersley, Selous, Gallwey,
Francis, Still, Parker, and others whom I do not remember
so well.

We had long muzzle-loading Enfields, the bullets of
which would have blown a hole the size of the palm of
your hand in a man had they hit him, for they were
lengthy and had a steel cup in the base which spread them
immediately on impact. It is strange that any reasonably
accurate snooting could be made with such ponderous
weapons, more especially as you had to stand up at the
first four ranges, 150, 200, 250 and 300 yards. It was
not so difficult if you fired at the target as with a shot-
gun at game, but after being put through position drills,
and made to screw the left elbow down, and stick the right

io4 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

one up, I, at any rate, found that I was nothing better
but rather grew worse. Selous was a good shot with a
saloon pistol, but I don't think he ever made much out
with those rifles. Stuart Wortley, on the other hand,
was one of the best, next to Humphry.

One evil feature of the rifles was that if by any chance
you had loaded again and the shooting ended before you
could have a final shot, it was no easy matter to draw the
charge. Once it happened that Stuart Wortley and I
were walking back home from the butts, each with his
rifle loaded, and as there was no one near we decided to
fire them off.

I loosed mine into the trunk of a big elm-tree about
fifteen yards off, and the bullet blazed an immense mark
where it penetrated.

Stuart Wortley discharged his weapon into the base of
a big sign-post at the roadside. The bullet went clean
through, ploughed up the earth several feet on the other
side, ricochetted and went audibly into the roofs of some
houses at least 200 yards away. We pressed on home-
ward with some energy after that.

However, I shot sufficiently well that year for my
third class, but I don't think I got the second, which used
to be at 400, 500, 550 and 600 yards.

At another period of that year we tool: part in a big
review in Lord Leigh's Park :

I went to a review at Warwick last Monday and was nearly
deafened. We formed square, the two outside ranks kneeling,
the rest standing up. Now I was in the front rank and of course
kneeling — the rank behind were kneeling and so there was a rifle
by each of my ears — the others were standing, so there were
several rifles over my head, and you can have no idea what it was
when they fired, first one after another and then all together.

Apparently I had but an imperfect idea at that time of
formation in square, but the really notable event of the
day was that two spectators, sitting on some rails two or
three hundred yards away, were shot by a ramrod, one of

SELOUS AND THE SWANS 105

them being killed. Inspection all along the lines followed,
and it disclosed that no fewer than fifteen ramrods were
missing, and some rifles which had missed fire were loaded
almost up to the muzzle by continuous recharging.

Later than that was the ever-memorable review in
Windsor Park, when the pontoon bridge across the Thames
went wrong and we did not get home until the small hours
next morning. It was in this interval that Selous went
shooting at swans with blank cartridge, and the Rugby
Rifle Corps was nearly disbanded in consequence. How-
ever, that trouble was adjusted and we held together,
being individually attested at the age of seventeen.

The uniform was of the old grotesque pattern, and I
remember one of the maids at home asking my sister :
" Please, shall I pack Master William's ammunition
clothes ? "

So the days went happily enough, and the blossom of
the flying terms was very sweet. I was actually installed
in the Vlth after my sixteenth birthday, and on 26th May
1867 wrote :

This is a day long to be remembered. What do you think
happened ? I read the 2nd lesson this afternoon to between
600 and 700 people. You can imagine my feelings as the singing
of the Magnificat began to draw to a close, and I had to leave my
seat and go to the reading desk, with an uncomfortable feeling
that I should not be able to find the place. Then came the
awful silence : then the hearing one's own voice ; afterwards
a feeling that I should not mind reading to anybody.

I felt quite in a dream at the time, but two things were fixed
in my memory. They were " to read slow "- and •' to read loud "
with due regard to stops ; and so I got through it beautifully.

On returning I was within an ace of tumbling down the steps ;
but luckily saw them just in time. I burst into a cold perspiration
on regaining my seat at the thoughts of such a terrible catastrophe.

It will be gathered from the above that I had taken
my place in the Vlth when the disaster of the Vth form
verse and prose occurred. I had then got a study to
myself of which :

io6 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

June 2, 1867.

I am in a new study. It is much larger than my old one, and
I have it all to myself, but it wants reforming sadly. My chief
cause of lament about it is that there is the most delightful little
Davenport, but the owner of it, who has left, has given orders that
it shall be raffled for. Of course I have gone in for it but of course
I sha'n't get it, and it will have to go. The paper and carpet are
both very ugly and provokingly new, so that I sha'n't be able to
do away with them for some time. I have just concluded " my
week " ; that is having to read one of the lessons on Sunday, and,
in conjunction with three other fellows (one for each lesson), to
walk up and down the big school, armed with a cane, when calling
over is going on, so as to keep every form in its proper place. In
return for these services we are let off two copies during the week,
and have no repetition to learn : Very good pay, I think.

It is now " my week " in the house, during which I have to call
over at dinner, locking up and prayers . So from all this you may
gather that I am a most important individual.

P.S. — Tell Mr A. this is 'lowance week.

This was written on the first flush of new power and
position. In point of fact I very soon let the idea of
" importance " go by the board.

CHAPTER X

Our House on Fire — Doctor Temple and the Fire Buckets — The
Coming of Jester — Buying Setters from Captain Russell-
England — Stevenson's Ghost Story — Undiscovered Mystery —
Lee- Warner baffled — Memories of Rugby — Our House
Twenty — My Temporary Exclusion — Rugby Football Fifty
Years Ago — Appreciation of Dr Temple — How he remembered
all old Rugbeians — My Disillusion

I SHOULD indeed be groping for a dim phantom of
myself amid the darkness of the vanished years
were it not that the letters, which I never thought
to see again, bring back the touch of renewed life. Some
of the contemporary events, however, have lived in
memory without the need for any reminder, and one such
was the breaking out of a serious fire in our house one night
in the earlier part of 1867. The excitement of it was
indeed a joy to most of us. The fire was blazing under
some of the bedrooms and there were stories — which were
little credited — of the legs of beds going through the floor
and consequent narrow escapes of sleepers.

Downstairs, amid firemen, there was infinite pleasure in
being organised to pass along water-buckets from hand
to hand, or to assist in carrying away valuables to safe
places. The garish light and our strange varieties of
undress made the scene one never to be forgotten, and
amid it all Doctor Temple arrived from the School House
to give us the moral support of his presence. There were
many buckets full of water standing ready to be passed
along, and the Doctor was always very short-sighted.
Striding towards us he stepped into one of these buckets
and then, staggering to save himself from falling, he stepped
with the other foot into another. It was a trying scene
to those who dared not laugh, and it says much for the
107

io8 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Doctor that he regained his equilibrium without apparent
loss of dignity. Altogether the night was one of wild
and ecstatic revel, and special supplies of food and coffee
kept us going until the fire was got under.

It did not seem, in the morning, to have been such a
merry sport. Many of our studies had been burnt out
and most of them had been damaged, as had clothes, etc.,
in some of the bedrooms ; but it was near the end of term
and we all made out claims on the Insurance Company
concerned, so that everything was pretty well restored by
the time we came back after the holidays. I remember
I got a new top hat as an item in my compensation.
Moreover, by the next term I had got a new study all
to myself, as already stated, and the coveted Davenport
I somehow managed to retain — probably I bought it
from the winner of it, after the raffle.

The next study to mine, on the left as you went out
into the passage, was occupied by Stevenson, who had also
got into the Vlth and was very conscientious over his
duties ; beyond him again there was a study containing
Ernest Robert Still, who entered our house in September,
1866, being then fourteen years of age. With him in
his study was, if I remember rightly, R. F. Johnson.
They were not at that time in the Upper School, but Still,
in particular, I should have mentioned ere this — indeed
he is already mentioned in the Prologue — for he became
a close friend of mine as the terms passed on.

A letter which now comes to hand seems to suggest that
I should here narrate Stevenson's ghost story, though it
may be rather premature. The letter which was written
during that winter term says :

I did not go to Stratford after all but had a good hunt instead,
which was in my opinion much better. Jester arrived quite well,
and very pleased to see me. He is in lodgings at a shilling a week.

'-'• Hunt • '- means following hounds on foot.

Jester, I may say, was my young fox-terrier dog by old
Jock out of Cottingham Nettle, and he was destined to gain

DOGS AT RUGBY 109

great fame as a stud dog in the subsequent years. He lived
with Knight, the Rugby pastrycook, of whom more anon.
Another letter, written i5th December 1867, says :

I shall probably, as I suppose Mr Arrowsmith has told you,
bring two dogs home. They are partly broken, and 9 months
old. I am going to see them to-morrow week.

22nd Dec. 1866.

The dogs are called Russell and Ruin. I have seen them and
like them very well. They have only just got over the distemper,
and consequently are not so well feathered as they might be.
They have no white about them like the others Tom Palliser
went to see. I am sure I don't know how I shall get my luggage
and dogs home. I have taken a precautionary measure of buying
two strong collars and chains.

The two dogs were young Gordon setters, which I bought,
for five pounds each, from Captain Russell-England, who
even then had snow-white hair and looked precisely the
same age as he has done ever since. Ruin turned out very
well indeed, but Russell was useless — except at dog shows.1

I quote these extracts because they are the first records
of dogs in connection with our life at Rugby, and most
of my friends became dog-owners as time passed on, as
will presently appear.

Now touching the ghost story . 1 1 happened that , greatly
daring, I had introduced a terrier — probably Jester —
into the house one evening, and had him with me in
Still's study. There were others present who can verify
the story, and Still himself is now a Commissioner for
Oaths. The terrier soon began to challenge game under
the floor, scratched violently in a corner and became
greatly excited. Clearly there were rats underneath, and
without more ado we pulled aside the carpet, prised up
two boards, and down rushed the dog pell-mell. We
heard a wild scurry below and a worry, worry, worry ;
then all was still, and the next thing was how to get the
dog out. The ground was nearly four feet below the floor,
as we found by trying with a broom-handle, and someone
1 His portrait appeared in The Field.

no " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

would obviously have to get down and lift Jester to the
surface, for he was standing over rat -holes in some far
corner, and we could not even see him. A small boy
named Arbuthnot was brought, and him we let down
through the floor, with a candle to enable him to see. He
found two dead rats and handed them up, and then
secured Jester and restored him to us ; but in looking
round, before he himself ascended, he saw that there
was a brick out in the partition wall between Still's
and Stevenson's study. This he reported to us, and it
was the causa causans of Stevenson's ghost.

Whose was the first idea of the ghost it matters not.
The details were quickly worked out. Jester was handed
through one of the outer windows to Knight, who was
waiting outside, and, once rid of him, we proceeded to
serious work. The rats were also thrown through the
outer window ; and then a rug was put down through
the floor and Arbuthnot, once more descending, with his
candle, reclined on the rug. He was provided with
half a broom-handle and a long paper funnel ; and signals
were arranged by which he should know when to operate
and when to stop. These signals were simply the whistling
of two different tunes. A third tune meant that he should
put out his candle.

All this being settled, we replaced the boards in Still's
study, and the carpet over them, then, leaving the door
wide open, with the lamp burning, repaired to my study
on the other side of Stevenson's. The first signal had
been given and Arbuthnot, having poked the broom-
handle through the aperture in the partition wall, proceeded
to rap solemnly under Stevenson's floor. We could hear
him — poor chap ! — jump up with a sudden exclamation,
and then, as instructed, Arbuthnot groaned through the
paper funnel, which he had also passed alongside the broom-
handle. In another moment Stevenson had rushed into
the passage, and, seeing no one in Still's study, came at
once to mine. He was much agitated, and we affected
to think he must be dreaming, but went with him to his

STEVENSON'S GHOST in

study, at his request, the signal to " cease firing " having
been given. We stayed there five or ten minutes and then
departed, telling him not to be so foolish, and nothing more
was done that night, for there had not been time enough
to elaborate the scheme fully. The following night,
however, we had arranged that the rapping and groaning
should occur when we were in Stevenson's study, if he
summoned us there, as doubtless he would, when disturbed.
All other preparations were the same, and again Stevenson
called in our aid. With overweening scepticism we
followed him, and then perhaps overdid the semblance
of surprise when raps came under our feet : but the care-
fully prepared impromptu was that we should offer at
once to tear up the floor of Stevenson's study and inspect
what was beneath. He gratefully accepted the offer, and
assisted in this haymaking of his own room. Arbuthnot
had, of course, been signalled to put out his light, and
though we probed all about and looked down under
Stevenson's floor there was, of course, no suspicious object
to be found.

Then we assisted to replace the floor and the carpet,
Stevenson still thanking us for our kindness, and we
were just about leaving him — ostensibly — when again, as
signalled, came rap, rap and groans under the floor.

Stevenson sprang on a chair in absolute horror, and we
all showed such alarm as we could fabricate. Someone
ran to bring " Mindar," the house butler, and he came
with much assurance, as if he would soon settle the trouble,
but when he stood in the room and there came a rap and
groan under his feet, he too sprang aloft and said : " Ooh !
I s'y, you know ! " Then he beat a hasty retreat.

Stevenson hurried off to bed, and the following day
had to be given another study for the time being.

The study continued to be intermittently haunted, and
defied the detective powers even of Mr H. Lee- Warner,
who, like " Mindar," thought that he could soon solve
the mystery. The fact of Still's door being open and the
light burning in his study quite disarmed suspicion of

ii2 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

that apartment, and, in point of fact, no one ever did dis-
cover the originators of Stevenson's ghost. Many fellows
thought they heard it in various other parts of the house
for long afterwards. Such is the power of imagination.

It was, no doubt, thoughtless and unkind to do this
thing, but what boy is not thoughtless and unkind ?
The ghost was certainly one of the best I ever heard of,
and it was worth anything to see good old " Mindar "
skip in alarm when he had come to lay it. Better still
was the defeat of Lee- Warner, who was supercilious in his
confidence that he would soon find out all about it.

There is a fascination about these ancient reminiscences
of life at Rugby which I fear may be leading to prolixity,
but who is there without an abiding delight in his old
school ? Never has one taken such pleasure in seeing
cricket as when we used to watch the school Eleven playing
against I. Zingari or other elevens, and very fresh in
memory is the effective left-hand bowling of David
Buchanan, a famous old Rugbeian, who was great in
those days. The cricket ground, at the far end of the
Close, was — and doubtless still is — a first-rate one, and
there, away beyond the left corner, was the racket court,
to the walls of which I saw Pauncefote hit a ball not once
but several times. On the near left-hand side the Pavilion
showed its record of past elevens painted on the match-
boarding ; and one used to look with special interest at
the name of Hughes (" Tom Brown "). Close to the
Pavilion, the Island, with high trees and a few inferior
swings and gymnastic arrangements.

Then, nearer to the School House, was the Big Side
ground, devoted in summer to numerous minor cricket
matches, and in winter sacred to football. On the right
of that, the lower ground called the Pontine Marshes,
where punt-about with numerous footballs was the
favourite form of brief exercise between schools or before
dinner, and here it was, and on the ground nearer the
Chapel, that " Below Caps " and other unimportant football
games used to be played in the afternoons. Then, too,

A DISAPPOINTMENT 113

who does not remember the Three Trees in the vicinity of
which fierce strife used to be waged when Big Side or
House matches were played ? The school buildings at the
back of the school goal had one particular feature, and that
was the entrance-door to the staircase up which you used
to go to the Doctor's room, when wanted — but all these
things are familiar to thousands besides myself, only to me
they come out of a past that had been half-forgotten.

I see that I was in our House Football Twenty that
winter of 1867, and evidently thought much of it.

Thus, on I7th November of that year :

On Tuesday we have a house-match which will decide whether
we are to be one of the two best houses, so it will be rather exciting.
. . . Only fancy how delightful it will be if we are one of the two
football houses ! The Twenty will be photographed in " costume, "-
and I shall probably get my flannels, which is being allowed to
wear flannel trousers instead of ducks — a great comfort, in more
ways than one.

Pride, however, went before a fall in this matter, for
a few days later, on 24th November, I wrote :

A most peculiarly aggravating thing happened yesterday. We
had to play the Evanites (ist Twenty) in the morning at 12.15.
About 10 o'clock Haslam (our Captain) asked to speak to me,
and I went to his study. There he said : " I've not put you in
the first Twenty this match, not through any fault of yours, for
I know that, as far as play goes, you are fully worth it ; but the
Evanites are very heavy, and we shall want for this match weight.
So as Stuart Wortley is a great deal heavier and stronger-made
than you, I have put him in instead. We must have weight for
this match." This was certainly unpleasant, though, of course,
it was some consolation to feel that it was not my fault and that
I retired with honour, beng unable to grow heavy.

But it was disagreeable to watch the match and not play in it ;
and, of course, the generality of fellows, not in our house, did not
know that it was not for bad play that I was dismissed. Even
the old Doctor, when I went to him to have some Copies looked
over, during the match, exclaimed with surprise : " Why ! how's
this ? I didn't expect to see you here ; why aren't you playing ? '•'
However, our House got the best of it though not sufficiently so
to decide the game which will have to go on another day. I was
in no amiable humour.

H4 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

All ended well. The " Evanites " were finally beaten
— thanks, it may be, to my absence from our team. I was
restored to my place for the next match — I don't know
at whose expense — and there was a deadly struggle with
the School House, as to which the following : —

22nd Dec. 1867.

I am sorry to say we are, after all, only second house. After
playing the School House two days, and neither side getting any
advantage, on the third day of the match, for about three quarters
of an hour we had the best of it, and succeeded in driving the ball
into their goal. Unfortunately, after this, Haslam got hit on the
head and was obliged to stop playing. Of course, they then
gradually shoved us back and sent the ball into our goal twice
and were considered to have won.

Yesterday, the two houses (the School House and ours) played
the School ; but the School had got so many old Rugbeians
down that they were rather too strong. The ground was one
vast lake of mud, and my trousers, up to the knees, were plastered
half-an-inch thick. I had to cut the laces of my boots all the
way down.

Last night was the Hall Supper, which went off very successfully.
I made a speech proposing the health of the old Rugbeians.

Nowadays, when football is played everywhere, the
above details may seem of no account, but they do serve
to show how keen was the interest in genuine Rugby
football at Rugby fifty years ago, when nowhere else in
England was the game understood — still less appreciated.
If it was played anywhere else than at Rugby, I, at
any rate, never read or heard of it. In a letter written
just before the one last quoted, it appears that I remained
in the House Twenty. Haslam was clearly a diplomatist
in thus making amends for the temporary disappointment,
and I know that Stuart Wortley also remained in the
Twenty, though someone else must have gone out, doubtless
with courteous explanations from Haslam. Evidently
we made mountains out of molehills during that happy
time of life, but I can truly say that between Stuart
Wortley and myself there was never the remotest touch
of jealous rivalry, though neither he nor I would relish

\V. ALLISON
C. B. STCAKT A. K. ('<>i

\\~ORTLEY
AM) " VlC."

F. IIOLDEN AND

K. R. STILL
AND li FRKT'

THE ARCHBISHOP'S MEMORY 115

being superseded, even by the other. The incidents
related here have probably long since been forgotten by
him, as they had been by me until I read my own letters
recalling them.

By the time under notice I had come to understand
the sincere, if rugged, good will of Doctor Temple, whom I
liked more and more as the terms passed until he left us,
in the winter of 1869, for the see of Exeter. It used to be
a difficult thing to keep awake on Sunday afternoons
in chapel after a dinner which tended to repletion, but
the Doctor wakened us up with his sermons, into which he
put so much real grit that often and often the tears would
roll down his cheeks from his intense feeling of what he
preached.

Many years later I interviewed him, when he was Bishop
of London, and was not surprised that he did not recognise
me, for I knew he was so short-sighted, but when I men-
tioned my name, he said : " Oh yes, I remember your voice
perfectly," and I quite believed this.

About ten years later still, I was at a " gaudy " (a
dinner) at Balliol College, to meet him, then Archbishop
of Canterbury, and other old Rugbeians. It so happened
that I sat next Warner, and when our good old headmaster,
as black-haired as ever, was on his legs speaking, it seemed
as if the clock had been put back and we were at school
again, first and second in the Vlth form, but a glance at
Warner dispelled the illusion, for he was bald-headed.

The dinner ended, and I was staying the night in college,
but I felt bound to go and shake hands with Doctor
Temple before leaving, so approached him, and again I
could see his eyesight failed him. " Allison," I said, as
I held out my hand.

" I recognise your voice at once," he replied, and I went
away quite satisfied that he really remembered me — for
had I not been three years in his form, and was I not
second in the school when he left Rugby ?

So far so good, but another old Rugbeian who had never
got beyond the Lower Middle School was also one of the

u6 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

party and staying in college. He forgathered with me
over a whisky-and-soda after this dinner, and said :
" What a dear old chap the Archbishop is ! Such a
memory too ! Do you know, he remembered me by my
voice ! "

Now it is almost a certainty that Doctor Temple, at
Rugby, can hardly ever, if at all, have seen or heard the
voice of this old Rugbeian, unless indeed some punitive
incident brought them into contact.

Needless to say that, after hearing my friend's remark,
I was not so complacent in my belief that I was really
remembered, though no doubt I was, had the good old
man taken time to think instead of treating me to the
formula with which he found he made all old Rugbeians
happy, whether he remembered them or not.

CHAPTER XI

Blair Athol's first Runner wins — The Fairfield Sale, 1868— Blair
Athol in the Ring — Foreign Buyers — Mr Blenkiron beats
them all— The Fish Fight at Whitby— How Sir Harcourt
Johnstone was defeated — " King " Hudson in York Castle
— Our Dogs at Rugby— Their Life with the Pastrycook —
Horrible Story of a Bagged Fox — Fags and their Duties —
A Duplicated Supper — Moberly's goes one better

SO long as Jex-Blake remained at Rugby I never
really lost interest in work, and the year 1868
passed reasonably well, so that details of it are
needless, as regards the school life. At home, however,
there was a great event on 2ist April — for on that day
Fitzwilliam, the first two-year-old runner by Blair Athol,
made his debut at Thirsk and, with odds of 6 to 4 on him,
won the Mowbray Stakes in a common canter by five
lengths. He was ridden by Tom Chaloner, arid I shall
never forget the unadulterated joy which I felt as I saw
him win, for I loved Blair Athol, as did many another
Yorkshire man and woman. What a brilliant augury
this was for his future success at the stud !

In point of fact it was not so brilliant as it seemed,
for Fitzwilliam, who was a bloodlike dark bay colt, took
a dislike to racing after that first race, and never won again.
A year later he was in the hands of Blakey, a most capable
breaker and rough-rider at Coxwold, who schooled him
well over fences and rode him to hounds from time to
time, but he was a faint-hearted beast and sadly dis-
appointing.

However, Blair Athol was not dependent on Fitzwilliam

for his early stud fame, for he had other two-year-olds

that year, among whom Scottish Queen and Ethus were

notable. Scottish Queen ran only twice as a two-year-old,

117

n8 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

and she did not win, but she was second to Pero Gomez
for the Middle Park Plate, beaten half-a-length, with
Pretender, three lengths away, third. In her next race
she was second for the Troy Stakes to Belladrum, beaten
three-quarters of a length. Thus she was right in the
top class, as also was Ethus. But I was not a race-goer
that year except in holiday time, and the most momentous
event which I can recall from personal knowledge was the
sale of the Fairfield stud on Saturday, i2th September.
Mr Arrowsmith and I attended that sale, and it was a
really great one, for Jackson (" Jock of Oran ") had
spared no expense in getting together a stud worthy of
Blair Athol. He himself was in a rapid consumption,
and that was the cause of the sale, but he was at the ring-
side in a carriage, nevertheless, and witnessed the dispersal
without any outward sign of regret. Jackson was not
persona grata to Mr George Hodgman and some others,
but be that as it may, he was a pathetic figure when I
saw him at the sale, with the beauties of his stud passing
away one by one, and the shadow of death clouding over
himself.

There were foreign commissioners not a few present :
Count Szapary, buying for Hungary, Count Renard for
Germany, and Colonel de Butz, who, I think, represented
Austria.

There was also Mr Chirnside, who took a good many
lots for Australia, but none of these was any match for
Mr William Blenkiron, who, in a carriage on the far side
of the ring, bought whatever he wanted and was not to
be denied. I write only of what I remember, and specially
I can recall the fine Touchstone mare, Terrific, covered by
Blair Athol, who made 600 guineas, and her filly foal by
Blair Athol made 300 guineas. Mr Blenkiron bought
them both, and the foal was Bicycle. The unborn foal
was Struan. The very next lot was Tunstall Maid, by
Touchstone, covered by Blair Athol, and for her Mr
Blenkiron gave 1000 guineas. Her foal in the coming
time proved to be that good horse, Jock of Oran. Another

SALE OF BLAIR ATHOL 119

wonderfully good purchase by Mr Blenkiron was the
famous mare Woodbine, by Stockwell out of Honeysuckle,
covered by Thormanby, for 650 guineas. Her filly foal
by Thormanby was knocked down for 310 guineas to
Mr Chirnside, but never left England, for it was Feronia.
When it came to the stallions, Mr Blenkiron, who had
dominated the position so far, would not be denied over
Blair Athol, in whom he had an intense belief. The bid-
ding seemed extraordinary then, and there was a gasp of
amazement when the best of Stockwell's sons was knocked
down for 5000 guineas. I thought it wonderful — even
for Blair Athol ; whereas now, what a trifling price it
would seem ! Needless to say, this sight inspired in me
further zeal for the future of the great horse with
whom it was my destiny to be a good deal mixed up
in after years. At that time, however, the sale of him
was a function which inspired in me feelings almost
of awe, and yet thankfulness that I had been there to
see it.

The dark mottled brown Neptunus followed Blair
Athol into the ring, and a good sort of horse he was, but
the contrast was too severe and Lord Wenlock bought him
for 360 guineas.

Mr Arrowsmith and I went back to Thirsk greatly
edified by the happenings at that sale, the total result
of which was over 22,000 guineas.

More than once since then have I seen the Fairfield
stud, when the late Mr R. C. Vyner had Minting and other
horses there, and the box and yard built for Blair Athol
had been little if at all altered, but the glory of the place
seemed to have departed when Blair Athol was sold on
that day in September, 1868, and Mr Vyner was never so
successful as his careful study of breeding entitled him
to be.

Count Szapary, whom I have mentioned as bidding at
that Fairfield sale, was, I almost think, Count Ivan
Szapary, who once rode in the Grand National and is
known to all English and Irish breeders of bloodstock.

120 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

The war has not embittered anyone against such as him,
though he must be regarded as an enemy.

It was some time during the summer of 1868 that I
was staying at Sleights, and as Whitby is only three miles
away and a by-election was being fought there, I naturally
went to participate in the sport. The candidates were
Sir Harcourt Johnstone (afterwards Lord Derwent),
Liberal, and " King " Hudson (the " Railway King "),
Conservative. There was normally a considerable Liberal
majority in Whitby, and it looked as though Sir Harcourt
Johnstone, though always defeated in his efforts to win
Thirsk, would at last be returned to Parliament. The
financial position of the " Railway King " had been con-
siderably shaken by events which it is needless to detail
here, and, in an evil moment for his opponent at Whitby,
it happened that within a week of the polling day he was
arrested for debt and taken off to York Castle.

This regrettable incident created a feeling of profound
indignation among the people of Whitby, for, rightly or
wrongly, it was regarded as the work of the Liberal agent,
who had thus got rid of the opposing candidate. The
nomination day was close at hand, and sooner than let
the foe have a walk-over the Conservatives hunted wildly
for another candidate. They succeeded in unearthing
one in the shape of Mr Bagnall, an ironmaster, hailing
from Goathland way. He had no political ambitions,
> but allowed himself to be thrust into the breach, and
appeared in due course on his side of the hustings with
the Conservative agents and committee, Sir Harcourt
Johnstone and his supporters occupying the other half
of the wooden erection, which was near the railway

tation.

By this time their indignation had vexed the Whitby
people " even as a thing that is raw," and I who was
present soon saw that there was to be plenty of fun, but
did not anticipate the shape it would assume . 1 1 happened

that there had been a very large catch of fish, and the boats
were unloading at the quayside not far away — thousands

THE FISH FIGHT AT WHITBY 121

of herrings, codfish, haddocks, halibut and many other
sorts.

A wave of simultaneous thought passed through the
crowd, and they had no sooner approached the hustings
than away most of them ran and possessed themselves
of fish — some even filled their pockets with herrings,
others took codfish as more formidable weapons, and the
business on the hustings had hardly commenced when the
Liberal half of the erection was bombarded with herrings.
It was a strange and diverting spectacle, and the fun grew
fast and furious when Liberal stalwarts among the crowd
took to hurling fish at the Conservative side of the
hustings. This quickly gave rise to a free fight, and here
the men who had armed themselves with codfish fomr*
good cause to rejoice in their prudence, for a codfish held
by the tail makes a really effective weapon, though some
of the combatants reversed this method and, gripping the
fish firmly by the gills, slashed their opponents with the
tails. There was a considerable amount of laughter and
good-humour prevailing while this Homeric battle was
waged, but many were in deadly earnest, and it is needless
to say that the speeches of the candidates and their
friends fell on deaf ears. The formalities were got through
as quickly as possible, and the noise of conflict, which had
been too fast to last, soon died down ; the crowd dispersed
and nothing remained as evidence of the unexampled
strife except a litter of fish all over the place. This was
quickly gathered up by children and others, and the " fish
fight " had passed like the baseless fabric of a vision.

But the resentment which had inspired it remained, and
on polling day Bagnall was returned by a considerable
majority, this being, it was said, the only time that a
Conservative had ever been elected to represent Whitby.
It is needless to add that Sir Harcourt Johnstone had
no sort of complicity in the scheme by which " King "
Hudson was removed from his path, and it is probable
that this was not an electioneering move at all, but a quite
independent proceeding on the part of creditors who did

122 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

not wish their debtor to obtain the protection of a seat
in Parliament. Be that as it may, the incarceration of
" King " Hudson certainly cost Sir Harcourt Johnstone
the seat, and sent Mr Bagnall into Parliament : a result
which by him was doubtless regarded as an unmitigated
nuisance, for he was a busy man whom politics did not
interest in the slightest degree.

That same year, 1868, the innovation of keeping terriers
at Rugby became established. I have already mentioned
the advent of Jester, whom I bought for £5 as a six-months-
old puppy from one Holmes of Cottingham, who had him
from his breeder, T. Wootton, of Mapperley, Nottingham,
and a rare good terrier Jester was. I soon became
possessed of others, and my friends aspired to terriers of
their own, so that I had to provide them, and did so,
nothing loth, much as you hear of boys nowadays doing
business with one another in stamps.

An old photograph illustrating this phase of the career
of some of us may interest and amuse some of the readers
of this book. It shows Stuart Wortley with Vic. on the
right, Still on the left with Fret, Coles in the centre with
a terrier whose name I have forgotten, and Holden seated
on the floor, with a rough dog called Pepper. I am stand-
ing over them almost in the semblance of a benefactor.
Whether I had a dog there or not is lost to memory, but
if I had, he does not come into the picture. We used to
keep these terriers with Knight, the pastrycook, as already
stated in the case of Jester. Knight had the peculiar
privilege of being allowed to wheel his barrow of jam
tarts and such-like about the Close when matches were
on, and I often wondered if the other fellows would have
patronised him as they did had they been possessed of our
knowledge. The dogs used to live in tubs under the
shelves on which he rolled his paste, and on a shelf above
were pots of jam intermixed with pots of mange or other
ointment for dogs. Knight showed no favouritism as
between these various pots, and if he had occasion while
making tarts to rub ointment on the skin of one of the

HORRIBLE STORY 123

dogs he would not hesitate to do so, nor would he break
off, for that reason, from continuing to roll paste and make
his tarts. Often the dogs, when released, would jump on
to his shelves and take a passing lick at the jam-pots or
pastry — but what mattered it to those who did not know ?

Many happy afternoons we had with those terriers,
mostly beyond the Water Tower farm, for in that direction
we could get away without being observed. Sydney
Parker, though not in the photograph, was possessed of a
nice little bitch named Touch, bought by me for him from
Wootton of Mapperley, and as Jester would hunt hare or
rabbit as truly and persistently as a beagle our small pack
soon got together and developed a certain amount of
proficiency.

We went so far at last as to purchase a fox that was
advertised in The Field as " freshly caught " and for sale.
The plan was to turn him down, give him ten minutes
law and then hunt him ; but the poor brute had evidently
been in captivity for a long time, and when released from
the bag in which he had been carried about two miles
from Rugby, he simply sat and looked at us. Of course
the terriers were yelling to be at him, but he cared not,
and then someone with a whip drove him away and
followed him over three fields. Then we let the terriers go
and they at once followed eagerly on the line, but alas ! the
poor fox had again sat down and they ran into him at
once and killed him. That was an adventure of which
we were all ashamed, though the idea, most genuinely
entertained, had been to give the fox a sporting chance.
Never again did we hunt anything but rabbits or hares,
and, needless to say, we accounted for very few of them.

It may rightly enough be thought that proceedings of
the sort mentioned were very blameworthy when one was
in the Vlth and supposed to set a good example and keep
order ; but I never could reconcile myself to the Arnold
tradition, which made little gods of the Vlth form, and
I fear my duties were wholly neglected. Never once
during my three years in the Vlth did I set any other fellow

124 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

an imposition, still less cane him, and often on catching
sight of recreants who were " out of bounds " I used to
go down another street so as to avoid meeting and having
to punish them. This may have been due to a selfish
desire not to disturb my own equanimity. Who can say ?
The origin of motives is almost unfathomable.

I got on very well with my own fags, but there again
I saved myself any chance of worry by always choosing
among my gang, when we distributed the house fags,
one who was good at games and really too good to be an
ordinary fag. Him I appointed Saturday night fag,
and his duties were simply to see that the others did their
work properly week by week, and also to make sure that
Saturday night supper was sent in all right from Hobley's
or Jacomb's, when also he would partake of it with the
rest of us.

The constant mention of these suppers in my letters,
and also of hampers wanted, would lead a casual reader
to think that we were a greedy crew, but in point of fact
we were only hungry, the ordinary food then given being
quite insufficient. I quote from two letters (undated)
written during 1868 ;

Yesterday was somewhat amusing. Stuart Wortley had gone
to Leamington, and before going had, unknown to us, ordered
a large repast at Jacomb's for the night. Still and I, unaware of
this, ordered another sumptuous one at Hobley's ; and the result
was, we had salmon, lamb, green peas ; duck, green peas ; one
ice pudding — another ice pudding — an immense dish of straw-
berries, and, of course, plenty of iced claret cup. We managed it
all however well enough.

Doubtless there were at least half-a-dozen of us con-
cerned in this Gargantuan repast, which one might think
would have satisfied any youthful requirements, but it
seems to have paled into insignificance in the light of
another experience, mentioned in a letter written a week
or two later ;

Last night Still, Stuart Wortley and I went to supper with our
friends in Moberly's house. They had a most gorgeous enter-

"INTELLECTUAL" PURSUITS 125

tainment, far surpassing anything we have ever had in our house
— in fact, all the delicacies of the season, and several excellent
drinks, the best of which was Cider Cup. All this, too, was done
quite openly in their large tutor room, and not cramped up in their
studies as is the way with us.

And yet, if memory serves, the suppers " cramped
up " in our studies were the happiest and most convivial
functions after all.

It must not be thought that we carried on without
any sort of intellectual effort. There was a Debating
Society in our house, and on 3rd November 1867, 1 wrote :

On Thursday night I brought forward my motion in the Debat-
ing Society — that Modern Literature is superior to Ancient, and
lost it by a minority of one.

Then on loth November, the following week :

I found to my great delight that my motion " That a cat tax
would be beneficial '-' was chosen for debate, and having gathered
wisdom from my defeat of the week previous, I did not, as before,
rely upon oratory without giving the subject a thought. The
consequence was I made a speech of 10 minutes' duration : — •" Were
my beds to be usurped and filled with fleas ? Were my victuals
to be seized, my game destroyed ? Was my repose to be dis-
turbed ? "- etc. etc., and concluded amid great applause. An
animated debate then ensued, which ended in my motion being
carried by a majority of four.

So much for our intellectual pursuits, and enough of
this chapter.

CHAPTER XII

Long Absence from School — The Assistant Masters — Dislike of
them — Dr Hayman elected Headmaster — Automatic Rise to
Second in the School— Football Fancies — Effect of Absence-
Try for a Christ Church Studentship— Matriculate at Balliol —
Farewell to Doctor Temple— My last Big Side Match— Life
under Dr Hayman — Go As You Please — yEschylus in a
Dress Coat — Last Vlth Dinner — Grand Military at Rugby —
Patey outwitted — Our Dogs and our Convenience — Long-
distance Running — The Harborough Magna Run — Also
the Crick

I AM sorely tempted to multiply stories of Rugby, but
they would occupy too much space, and it so happens
that I absented myself from the school during at
least three-quarters of 1869, always, however, providing
myself with certificates from Doctor Ryott. Jex-Blake had
gone away and become headmaster of Cheltenham, and
the Rev. C. Elsee reigned in his stead over our house.
He was a worthy man, and, as stated in the Prologue,
went by the name of "Bull," but he was a mathematical
master and, as such, possessed no interest for me.

The younger masters of that period were deeply imbued
with the German school of thought and learning. It
would be unjust in the extreme to reflect on them now
by the light of the events of this war, but it can perhaps
be understood that, bred as I was in an atmosphere of
old Toryism, and with full reverence for the Established
Church, these dabblers in new fancies were as repulsive
to me as a Nonconformist minister would have been.
I hated the very name of Max Miiller. I find a letter of
mine written near the end of 1869 which quite explains
this feeling ;

A Mr Hayman has been elected headmaster in Dr Temple's
place. I know nothing of him except that he is a good scholar,
High Church, and a Conservative, whereat the present junior
masters are much disgusted.

126

RETURN TO SCHOOL 127

This letter was written after my prolonged absence from
the school, but it serves to indicate my feeling towards
the junior masters, and gives the reason, though, of course,
no justification, for my staying away so long, under the
aegis of Doctor Ryott and his automatic medical certificates.

During all that period I never looked at a book or in
any way troubled myself with school work. Tom Scott
and I had commenced dog-showing at Darlington and
elsewhere in the north. There was hunting, shooting
and racing. I had a nice little blood mare called Miss
Miggs; my sister had one by Flatcatcher called Brunette.
There were seaside visits, and altogether there was a gay,
thoughtless and irresponsible time, until suddenly, a
fortnight after the winter term had begun, I resolved to go
back to school, and did so.

I was welcomed and commiserated with for having
been so long ill, and some allusion to this appears in all
my later school certificates ; but there had never really
been any ill-health at all, and it seemed rather appalling
that my place in the school had by this time risen so that
I was second, Warner being head. This surely would
prove the absurdity of rising by mere seniority; but,
strange to say, it did nothing of the sort, for I could never
gather that the other fellows, who had been grinding away
while I was playing the fool, had made any progress what-
ever. Indeed it is certain that they had not, for in the
yearly examination at the end of that term I came out
second, which was my exact place by seniority.

It is clear, however, that on my return to school I
thought far more of football than anything else. Thus,
in one of the first letters of that term, I wrote ;

I shall get my Cap all right, I've no doubt. I got my flannels
yesterday ; that is, I am permanently fixed in the House Twenty
and allowed to discard the old Ducks. This is, of course, the first
step, and I could not possibly have ascended it sooner than I did,
as Caps and flannels are only given after House Matches, and we
have only had one as yet. I have played five times during the
last week and twice on the Saturday before, but feel much better

128 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

for it though I am 10 lb. lighter than I was when I left home.
The VI th actually beat the School this time.

Those two matches " the Saturday before " were my
first after that long period of idleness. One was in the
morning and I was captain of our " Below Caps " Twenty
against another house, and it was a pretty fierce game.
In the afternoon the Vlth against the School commenced,
and there were either three or four days of it before it was
finished. We also played the House Match referred to,
and altogether it was a somewhat crucial method of getting
fit from a state of absolute unfitness.

On the top of it all, and without any sort of preparation
I took it into my head that I would go in for a studentship
at Christ Church, as four were falling vacant, and I find
the following letter of about a fortnight's later date :

I shall be going to try for a Studentship at Christ Church.
There is no doubt that I ought to get one ; but unfortunately I
cannot work like I used. Lee Warner (our tutor) remarks that
I shall have thrown it away if I don't get it. However, let things
take their course — I have got my Cap — and been to the dog show.
That's all I care for at present.

In another letter of the same period there is the
following : —

Everything is much changed since I was here ; several new
schools have arisen. All the masters have married. There have
been no less than five weddings. The new schools are hideous
erections in my opinion. . . . The continued toil and early rising
of this place is very irksome to me.

Then came that visit to Oxford, as to which I wrote :

I came back from Oxford yesterday, having been there since
Monday. I have not heard the result yet but shall do so to-
morrow. There is not the slightest chance of me having got one
now, as, though I was in the first lot of six, the examiners couldn't
make up their minds, and so settled to give a mathematical paper
to decide it ; and, of course I left them when they became so
unreasonable as to let mathematics have anything to do with a,
classical studentship. However, it doesn't matter in the least.

W. WARNER C. B. STUART WORTLEY
H. LKE.WARNKR (Tutor} W. ALLISON
Rue, BY, 1869

MATRICULATING AT BALLIOL 129

I enjoyed myself very much — saw the river and many torpids,
but not the Eight, which, I believe, is a very bad one, as Tinne,
Willan and Yarborough, members of last year's crew, have appar-
ently decided to give Cambridge a chance and are not going to
row. The demand for dogs is so great that Tom and I are at
our wit's end how to supply it.

So ended that first Oxford adventure, and very thankful
was I afterwards that I did not become a Christ Church
student, though I was in the final six competitors and there
were four studentships to fill, but the mathematical paper
was prohibitive so far as I was concerned, and I left it
untouched. Later on comes a letter with better news :

I arrived back here on Friday evening having matriculated
successfully at Balliol. This you must remember is by no means
easy to do, as their standard is very high, and it is necessary to
show a certain amount of mathematical skill, which I just managed
to do, with a caution that I must improve in that particular. Old
Dr Scott, the master, told me they should expect me to read for
Honours, which will be very laborious.

It is rather interesting to note that I matriculated before
the beginning of Jowett's Mastership of Balliol, which
was in 1870. The Doctor Scott referred to was of
Liddell and Scott fame.

Towards the end of that winter term, 1869 — viz. on
zoth December — is a letter showing, in a slight degree,
what we all thought of Doctor Temple :

The Doctor preaches his farewell sermon this afternoon which
will be a very terrible ordeal. Our House-supper comes off on
Tuesday. I shall have to make two or three speeches.

The following Ode, written and composed for the
occasion of Doctor Temple's farewell, will bear repetition,
as many old Rugbeians will have forgotten it : —

ODE

Solo and Chorus Rhoades and Oakeley

MASTER, best beloved and best,

Ours for ever, as to-night.
Hands at parting may be press 'd,

Tears reluctant dim the sight,

130 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE !

But where'er thy name be known,
Rugby hails thee first her own.

Yes, she hails thee loud and long,
Ere the kindly hour departs,

Once again with shout and song,
Evermore with loyal hearts :

Hearts too full to sing or say
All their love and loss to-day.

Much thou'st taught us : see ! we keep
Noblest of thy counsels, one —

Not to waver, not to weep,
Where there's duty to be done.

Staunch we stand, oh ! Master, see,
Ready e'en to part from thee.

Wider fields await thee now,
Richer corn-land, bleaker fen ;

Forth to sweeten and to sow

Haste, oh, chief of husbandmen !

Where thou treadest still to bring
Days of happy harvesting.

England, take from us to-day
One more man of mighty mould :

Could we think to cheat thee ? nay,
Such thy hero-type of old ;

Strong and tender now as then,
Joy of youth and tower of men.

Must we lose him ? must he go ?

Weak and selfish thought away !
This at least 'tis ours to show,

This our praise shall all men say —
Whereso' honoured, lov'd and known,

Rugby hailed him first her own.

December, 1869.

COMRADES, I bid you weep :
Save this, there is no solace left to show :
In all fair harvests that our hands shall mow
Henceforth the master-reaper will not reap.
Idle it is 'gainst adverse fates to strive,
And with vain effort still keep grief alive ;
There is a time for tears too as for sleep —

Let your tears flow.

FAREWELL TO DOCTOR TEMPLE 131

Brothers, I bid you sing,

Because Truth fails not though the great go by,
And those frail souls that win to her on high
Abide unvex'd by vain imagining :
Low at her feet the white waves howl for hate,
She is so calm, and they so passionate :
Let us be glad together for this thing —

Truth cannot die.

Children, I bid you pray :
So, though we look not on his like again,
Maybe his memory will our heart sustain,
And some pure portion of his spirit stay :
This too he taught us, and 'tis no light gift
To souls sore-blinded by the tempest-drift,
That who on heaven's high succour wait alway,

Wait not in vain.

Once more, I bid you " peace."
How should weak song put sorrow out of sight ?
There are who clamour at love and curse the light ;
Silence alone is holy till they cease.
Yea, O our Master, for ourselves and thee
Sweet is the silence, since joy may not be :
God of thy day's work give thee fair increase,

And a good night.

December, 1869.

In the same letter as quoted above I wrote a description
of what was really my last Big Side football match :

I played football once more yesterday, in the Two Cock House
Match. The two houses had got numberless old Rugbeians
down, and playing 85 to our 42 amid perpetual rain, hacked us
almost off our legs. However, thanks to Arnica, I am all right.

I have a very vivid recollection of that huge phalanx
of opponents as we went out to face them in the pouring
rain. Within ten minutes all our side were plastered
with mud from head to heel, for they swept over us like
an avalanche. The curious point was that they never
got a goal during two hours' play, being, no doubt,
incommoded by their own numbers.

132 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Speaking of one of these overpowering rushes through
a scrummage, I wrote :

A fellow nearly got killed, in fact it is not expected that he will
recover. He was playing in a scrummage with his head down to
see the ball, and the whole of his side fell forward, and his head
was doubled up under his body so that his face touched his chest.
A crack was heard and he was carried away insensible.

His spine is all but broken in two, and he is paralysed from the
chest downwards. If he does not die he will never recover the
use of his limbs. His name Is Lomax and he is third in the school
next to me.

It makes one rather shy of being under a falling scrummage
now.

If I remember rightly, however, Lomax recovered from
that accident, and I trust he is still alive and well, though,
like so many others at a big school, he passed out of my
ken.

It may perhaps be understood that with the departure of
Doctor Temple I lost the last link which really bound me
to any attempt at serious work, and the advent of Doctor
Hayman started an unruly epoch of the school, which to
me was not unwelcome. I wrote in the early weeks of
1870:

I like the new Doctor very well — at least he has not yet made
himself disagreeable. The masters have subsided and become
subservient to him, as he told them they might all go if they liked
and he could easily fill their places with others.

This will give some slight idea of the difficulties which
confronted Dr Hayman. He was not a great man but
quite a good sort, and he would have got on well enough
had not the under masters opposed him in the way they
did. He once described them as "a pack of insolent
ushers " and it was a pretty good description.

Many of us in the Vlth sympathised with him, and for
my part I regarded the trouble almost from an electioneer-
ing point of view, until I believe I got myself as much
disliked by the masters as was Dr Hayman himself. Then

DOCTOR HAYMAN 133

came a desire to let them see that I could do without them
and would be beholden to none of them while reading for
the Exhibitions that summer. This was the sole motive
power of my effort in that direction, and the result we shall
see presently.

There was only one Speech day in my time, with Dr
Hayman as headmaster, and of that I wrote :

Our speeches come off on the ist July I am condemned to
act the part of ^schylus in a play of Aristophanes (Greek).
Fancy how horrible to talk Greek in dress clothes on a sort of
short-legged table in the midst of numbers of people ! I shall
be home in time for Darlington Show and we shall have lots of
dogs there.

Then, in a later letter :

Our speeches came off on Friday. I performed the part of
-ZEschylus with some success and received a prize value £3 for
Latin hexameters from the trustees of the School.

Dr Hayman made an excellent speech at the beginning — so
excellent that none of his enemies could find fault with it. Among
other things he spoke of " the excellence of his assistant masters,'5
which certainly heaped coals of fire upon their heads.

After the speeches there was, as usual, the Vlth dinner. This
time we had it in a tent on Dr Hayman 's lawn. Warner was not
there, so I presided and had to make speeches, call upon people
to sing, etc.

These episodes, however, are too near the end of my
time at the school to come in proper sequence here, but
I give the extracts, as they throw a pretty clear light on
Dr Hayman' s position and in some measure perhaps serve
to explain how I, by becoming a strenuous adherent of his,
was able during those last two terms to do pretty much
what I liked.

All Rugbeians of that period and a good deal later will
remember Patey, the school marshal, whose duties were
never very clearly denned, but he used to come in at first
lesson in the mornings and report all who had been absent
from " calling over " the afternoon before. In many other
ways he was supposed to exercise some sort of supervision,

134 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

but Dr Hayman never appreciated his importance. In
this connection the following letter is rather illuminating.
It was written in the spring of 1870, a few days after the
Grand Military meeting over the old Rugby course on iyth
and i8th March, where Mr P. Merton won on the Robber,
and Lord Charles Ker on Knockany. E. P. Wilson
also rode a winner or two, as did Colonel Knox, and
" Bay " Middleton rode once or twice : —

We have had great amusement this week. The grand military
steeplechases have been going on, and we have lost all our money
and feel better for it. I have sold the large-eared pup for £2, IDS.

We were discovered to-day with our dogs by Patey, the School
Marshal, who announced his intention of getting this business
settled. After much thought, we decided that the best thing
would be to anticipate Patey in going to Hayman, and tell the
Doctor the facts of the case and complain of the insolent conduct
of Patey. This we did with perfect success. Hayman thought
nothing of our having dogs, and quite agreed with us that the
wretched Patey had behaved in an improper manner, so that this
individual will get what he has not bargained for when he goes to
tell his tale.

Poor Patey ! It was really a shame to deal with him
in this fashion, for we had been utterly in the wrong.
It was a Sunday afternoon when the incident occurred,
and our dogs had just caught two rabbits. An angry
farmer had intervened, and it was at this juncture that
Patey appeared on the scene and declared his intention
of " getting this business settled," but Dr Hayman fully
agreed that our position in the school was such that Patey
had no right to interfere with us. Moreover, that same
week Patey had noted our presence in the enclosure at the
Grand Military, when he was prowling around outside to
find out who was there. Of course we were not at calling
over that afternoon, and when next morning he came in
with the list and handed it to the Doctor, those whose
names were marked were, as usual, asked for their ex-
planation. My name came first, and I at once said :
"Late." Then came Stuart Wortley. "Late," said he.
Patey thereupon broke out : " You were not late ; you were

CONCERNING PATEY 135

at the races :" Hayman, however, took no notice of this
except to say : " You had better distinguish between the
words, 'absent ' and 'late,' "and nothing further transpired
except that Patey was evidently very much annoyed.

Some weeks afterwards the Doctor said to me : "I
think it might be well if you were to send your dogs home
— at your convenience." A " convenient " period did not
come until the end of the term.

In that spring of 1870 I discovered that I could run long
distances rather well. It was a complete surprise, for
when overgrown and weak at the private school I had been
hopelessly incapable of doing anything of the sort, and
I have often thought how many two-year-olds must have
been turned out of training though they would have made
good horses if given time to develop.

Anyhow, after a preliminary trial in a House run which
didnot trouble me in the slightest, I essayedthe Harborough
Magna run, a distance of about nine miles, and came in first
by thirty seconds, with the greatest ease. Pride, however,
went before a fall, for in the same week, only three days
later, I consented to run as one of the hares in our House
Crick., having, during one of the days gone over the course
with F. S. Holden, so as to be quite sure about its every
detail.

Now the Crick run is decidedly formidable. The
distance is about thirteen miles, the last five of which
are on the road and known as " the spurt." Certainly
it is not a run to take on when you are stale, as I must
have been that day, after the Harborough Magna. My
fellow-hare was John Marshall Dugdale, who later on
became so well known in the agricultural world and was
famous as a football player. He was a good runner,
and very fit and fresh, not having taken part in the
Harborough Magna. Well, we made the best of our
way across country, never taking a pull except to get
over fences, until finally we reached the road and pre-
sently had compassed two miles of that — say eleven
miles in all — and then I began to feel as if for me the end

136 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

was very near. This came on suddenly, and I had never
felt the same before, but it was unmistakable. Just
then Dugdale said : " We are miles in front of the hounds.
Is it necessary for us to race into Rugby ? "

This was a splendid chance for me to agree to ease
down, but by that time I had almost abandoned hope
of getting to Rugby at all, let alone racing there, and so,
to keep him in suspense as long as possible, I said : " No ;
I think we ought to race ! "

So he resigned himself to the continued effort, for about
another two hundred yards, and then I told him to race
home by himself — I was going to walk.

He jogged on with a relieved expression, but for me
to walk was easier said than done, for no sooner had I
stopped for a moment than it became desperately difficult
to avoid reeling into the ditch on one side or the other
of the wide road. I was just like a foundered horse, and
almost in despair, more especially when, glancing back; I
saw a white figure half-a-mile or more behind but striding
along fast.

This I took to be one of our own hounds, and the idea
of being not only beaten for time but being actually caught
and passed seemed so dreadful that somehow or other I
staggered and blundered into another run and bored along
in dire distress, every now and again casting a glance back
at that pursuing figure. He was overhauling me all the
time as inexorable as Fate, but I am sure the effort I
managed to screw out would never have been forthcoming
had it not been for him. I was within half-a-mile of Rugby
now and could hear his steps behind. I gave up looking
and still struggled on until whoosh ! he passed me as if
I was standing still, and called out : " You're all right.
Your fellows are best part of half-an-hour behind you/'

It was the great long-distance runner, Charlie Bulpett,
training over the last three miles, and I, poor wretch !
had been trying to get away from him after going the
full course.

Thank goodness; all the same, he hunted me home as

THE CRICK RUN 137

he did, for I should not have got there otherwise. I had
now reached Rugby, but it is a "long unlovely street "
down which you finish the Crick, and people come out and
look at you so that you must make some sort of show —
" a trot for the avenue." How I did that I know not,
but I did, and when I saw the lamp-post which I took to
be the finish I made one supreme effort to get there in
decent style. Then came the awful discovery that not
this lamp-post but the next was the finish ! It seemed
miles from one to the other, but fellows ran alongside —
I remember seeing Warner among them — and shouted
encouragement, so I got there, practically blind.

Someone gave me a drink of whisky, which was a boon
indeed, and just in the nick of time. I recovered within
ten minutes, and found that after all Dugdale had not
finished two minutes in front of me.

We did respectable time, about i hour 25 minutes,
and the hounds were badly beaten; though not quite so
badly as Bulpett had anticipated.

I always have felt that I ought to have had another
try at the Crick when in proper condition. It was, of
course, madness to run it so soon after the Harborough
Magna as I did, and presumably in these more coddling
days no boy would be allowed to try himself out hi such
a fashion, but it happened in my day just as I have written.

CHAPTER XIII

Life at Coxwold Vicarage — Terriers and Game-cocks — Criticism
of other Terriers near Rugby — Training for the Sports —
Beaten for the Half-mile — The Exhibitions and the Assistant
Masters — Kingcraft and Champagne Bottles — High-pressure
Reading for the Exhibitions — Merely to annoy the Junior
Masters — Radicals and Free-thinkers — Troubles of Stevenson
— Our Farewell Banquet — An Exhibition won — Invited to
give it up — Thoughts after leaving Rugby

SOME time before my later days at Rugby my
sister and I had left Kilvington and gone to live
at Coxwold Vicarage, where we spent several very
happy years. We had our horses, and I was allowed to
build kennels there. Moreover, I secured ideal shooting
at Oldstead, extending up the Hambleton hills as far as
the Hambleton Hotel, where sometimes Tom Green would
be found, and sometimes James Dawson, brother of the
more famous Mathew, Tom, Joseph and John Dawson.
James Dawson was a very capable trainer, but he had
the misfortune to find an employer who was financially
unsound, and so he never made much headway. How
the good old parson at Coxwold ever endured the habits
of that time has long been a mystery ; for fox-terriers
had always to be thoroughly tested, and among other
means to this end a freshly caught badger was established
under the charge of an old woodcutter in one of the
outhouses of Shandy Hall, not two hundred yards from the
vicarage. Life was decidedly more barbaric then than now.
Tom Scott and I kept game-cocks there and did many
other things which might seem reprehensible, but the world
went very well with us, and so came along the early half
of 1870, when my erratic sojourn at Rugby was drawing
to its close.

138

FOX-TERRIERS 139

It may be gathered from internal evidence that the
loss of all our money at the Grand Military meeting
that spring, as recorded in the preceding chapter, led to
the appeal to Mr Arrowsmith for £15, details of which are
given in the Prologue. The backing of Kingcraft for the
Derby followed, but it was before the 2000 Guineas, and
we only got £20 to £5. This would not appear suggestive
of any of us winning Exhibitions that summer, but for
my part I had determined to give the junior masters an
object lesson which would annoy them, as I knew any
success of mine, unaided by any of them, would do.

Nothing, however, is said of any serious work in the
following letter to Tom Scott written on gth April 1870 : —

I went to Hill Morton Paddocks yesterday and saw first about
five pups, 6 months old, by young Jock. None of this lot were
first class, all having huge drop ears, and they were very large.
Then came three pups of the same age, by Venture out of Fernie ;
one of which was almost all tan, having very little white on it.
Another was a miserable small thing ; and the third was a pretty
good one, though with several spots on its sides, and not nearly so
good as I expect Venom's will be. The man wanted £20 for it.
Then came out young Jock and Fernie. With the former no fault
was to be found, but it is strange that, for all that, he is exactly
like his photograph in my album, with the same curious hind-
quarters and stern somewhat thicker towards the end. I should
say he is about the best dog, barring his father, that is at present
shown.

The man had a badger, and said they would draw it, but as they
could see it through the bars of the box and almost touch it, and
still took no notice whatever, I rather doubted what he said,
especially as he had no appliances whatever for trying them.

Fernie I saw really for the first time. She is a most surprising
bitch, very much like Vic. (Stuart Wortley's) only a great deal
bigger, broader and fatter, though you could hardly believe it.
She had, moreover, a short, stumpy and tremendously thick tail,
with a head much the same shape and colour as old Vic.

They seem to have got a very good programme at Thirsk this
year. You will find that Nil Desperandum will win a race, if
started. Ptarmigan ought to have a chance. I see Woodcraft,
Kingcraft's dam, has just had a chestnut colt foal by Blair Athol.
She is, of course, going to be put to King Tom again.

140 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Loud were the execrations against Mr A. when I received your
letter. I really could not select anyone, as there is not one that
is more my friend than another. Hence you will see I cannot
make a distinction.

The athletics begin to-morrow. I have very little chance, being
too slow. I won a trial with Stuart Wortley on Friday. I
ran once round the Close (1000 yards) and then he began and I
raced him round my second time and won easily ; so I am thankful
I can beat someone. I go this 1000 yards in 3 min. 5 sec., with
all clothes on, which is not first-class time, still I can make it
faster when necessary.

What are the pups like ? How are their ears ? Have you seen
the Setters lately ?

Do you think Cobweb has capped his hock permanently ?
Sabinus was shod with the Goodenough shoes. I expect they
really are much better than the old ones.

Has the badger been drawn lately ? Have there been any
fights or anything of interest ?

About this time I could sell heaps of dogs if I had them ; about
like old Vic. I have, however, made about sure to sell two puppies
at good prices.

There is no sign in the above of any strenuous work
for the Exhibitions. The terriers referred to were famous
prize-winners, of whom Fernie was supposed to be a
champion. Nil Desperandum and Ptarmigan, the horses
mentioned as likely to win, were both by Blair Athol,
of course, and Ptarmigan did win at Thirsk.

Woodcraft's Blair Athol foal was Andred. As to the
athletics, I had an abiding fear of Bulpett over the longer
distances, for he was really first class, and here, in a letter
to my sister, is what happened ;

RUGBY, loth April 1870.

We have had the best athletics that there have ever been here.
The mile was done in 4 min. 39! sec. which is extraordinary time
for a school. The half-mile was also very good, 2 min. 6 sec. I
only went in for two things, the half-mile and putting the stone.
In the half-mile race I was fourth out of sixteen. It was, as I
expected ; the pace was too great for me, as from the beginning
I was obliged to run as hard as ever I could to keep up. This was
all very well for a time, and the first time past the Pavilion I
was about 5th, and the second time past, and, and not the least

THE SCHOOL SPORTS 141

done ; whereat I thought I was going to win, as there was not
more than 150 yards to go. But then other fellows began to run
at their best pace, which seemingly was better than mine, for
though I felt as strong and fresh as possible I could not prevent
two passing me in the last few yards. The first four were all
together, not one of the rest carne in at all. . . . I put the stone
30 ft., which was not good enough to win, though there were many

I can only say in regard to the above, that I now very
much question whether the distances were correctly
measured, for we ran on grass and had no proper running
shoes or shorts. Bulpett, who won the mile, was amply
good enough to make the time recorded ; but hardly so
under such conditions.

It would be six weeks later when Kingcraft won the
Derby, with the consequences set out in the Prologue,
and it is difficult to believe that any good work was,
in such circumstances, being done for the Exhibitions.
I have on my left hand now the mark of a bad cut received
while knocking the neck off a champagne bottle one
evening, when the carousal surpassed the Kingcraft
celebration. Such proceedings in a school study seem
almost incredible, but these things happened.

And yet, hostility to those assistant masters was my
motive power for the coming trial, and a few weeks before
the examination began, we were allowed to sit up an hour
or two later at nights. It was thus possible to crowd a
prodigious amount of work into a comparatively short
period. Stevenson was among the hardest working and
most conscientious competitors for these big stakes.
He never designedly fell foul of anyone, but he had
remained unacceptable to the younger members of the
house. It was quite an ordinary occurrence on those
late nights, when groping one's way round the passages
after lights had been put out, to feel a friendly hand
arrest you, and a voice would say : " Step high, just here.
There's a rope across the passage for Stevenson ! " Round
a corner there would be some fellow waiting with a wet

142 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

sponge — also for Stevenson ; and so on, night by night,
in that arduous crisis.

Poor old Stevenson ! He never did anything to deserve
such treatment. I once saw him endeavour to cane a boy
called Peters in the passage in daylight, but the space
was far too narrow for such an operation, and Peters stuck
close to him and kicked him on the shins. Once, too,
Stevenson endeavoured to "impeach" Warner before
the VI th form for some purely imaginary insult, but in the
main, he was a singularly inoffensive being, whose chief
trouble was that he had no sense of humour. I have often
thought, in later years, how unfairly he was treated.
Once on a breaking-up morning, when the powers of the
Vlth had — until next term — expired, I saw two fags
set about and belabour Stevenson. They had no real
grievance again him, only he was Stevenson !

It is not easy to work hard and long when you have
accustomed yourself to idleness, but I thought of what
those masters would say if I failed and how incensed they
would be if I succeeded. The sudden and continuous
strain told on me, and I began to go amiss. A letter written
in July, 1870, says :

The terrible exam, for the Exhibitions impends, and I am not in
good form for it. It is now necessary to give up swimming, etc.,
and it does not appear conducive to health. However, there are
little more than three weeks now and then it will be over.

This period of almost ceaseless effort passed, and a
later letter says ;

The Examination is now at hand, inasmuch as it begins to-
morrow. A more horrid thing I never knew. I leave here on
Thursday week. On Wednesday week Stuart Wortley, Warner,
Lawrence and I give a farewell banquet to some eighty persons,
which will, I anticipate, be amusing. We have succeeded in
inducing the famous Babington — the best speaker of the kind that
can be imagined — to come all the way from Marlborough, where
he is a master, to propose our healths, so that will be well done.

So we were near the finish, and the examination lasted
some ten days, commencing at 7.30 each morning — a

THE EXHIBITIONS 143

two-hours paper before breakfast, another after breakfast,
and another in the afternoon. It was well for me that
the examiners were appointed by the vice-chancellors
of the universities and were not masters of the school.
The Exhibitions were given at the rate of five each year,
and of values varying from £80 to £40 a year, tenable for
four years. The subjects for examination were Divinity,
Classics, Mathematics, Modern Languages and History.

It is something in the nature of torture to be really
strung up for such a lengthy test as this was and to carry
on right through it. There are some who can stand it
with equanimity, but to me it meant being unable to
eat or to sleep, except to a very limited extent, until the
thing was over ; and then there was relief — for I did not
doubt that all was well — and that "Farewell Banquet"
came as a blessed change. " The famous Babington "
made a speech worthy of his fame, and the function was
a very successful one all round. Then came the news that
the results were out — Warner had got the first Exhibition,
I secured the second, Darcy Bruce Wilson the third,
Stuart Wortley the fourth, and Stevenson the fifth.

Thus for me there was £70 a year for four years, and the
pleasure of gaining it was almost entirely due to the feeling
that I had scored off those Radical assistant masters.
Warner well deserved his place, for he was a good all-round
man, whereas I did not attempt to touch the Modern
Language and Algebra papers. I was well in front on the
Classics, but not by quite a sufficient margin to make
good these shortcomings.

It was conveyed to me indirectly, a few days later, that
some of the recalcitrant masters — "insolent ushers" —
thought I ought to give up my Exhibition in favour of
someone who really needed it, which, financially, 1 did not ;
but this intimation only increased my pleasure in what
I had done, for it seemed to show that the iron had entered
into the souls of my adversaries.

Such motives and sentiments may have been very
unpraiseworthy, and perhaps unjustifiable, but they

144 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

certainly impelled me to win that Exhibition and to stick
to it when won.

And this was the end of my career at Rugby. I can
hardly recall whether I was sorry to leave the old school
or not, for my time there had passed in a confused medley
of sorrow, occasional effort, intermittent folly, much good-
fellowship, hopeless irresponsibility, but happy memories
not to be effaced.

The last act had been in a sense one of direct hostility
to the assistant masters, and them I certainly was not sorry
to leave, but as the years passed, all such bitterness faded
away, and love for the school crept increasingly into its
place. It was long before I could bring myself to revisit
Rugby, where several of the " insolent ushers " were still
in authority, but a time did come when I made excuse
to go and see some polo ponies at Mr Miller's place, and
from there walked into the old Close. There was a cricket
match of some importance going on, and everything was
strangely familiar, just as if I was still at school ; but not
a soul of the many I met knew me by sight, and I went
on to the school buildings, and then up the spiral stair-
case, on the right of the front entrance, to the Vlth
form school, which was just as I had left it.

No one was there, and I sat down in my own old seat on
the right of the Doctor's chair, with the one vacant seat
for Warner above me. Yes, I thought of Rugby then as
I had never thought in more nighty days, before the
burden of life had really touched me.

With a sigh, I came away, and so on to our old house,
into which also I entered. It was a holiday afternoon
and no one was about, so I walked round the passages
and had a look at my own study, then returned and into
the hall, where I saw my name was still in Its place on the
wall.

Still no one appeared, and I departed as if from an abode
of shadows and memories, all of which were very happy
ones, even amid an atmosphere of regret.

It may be thought that I have put too much of the ego

MATURED ADVICE 145

into these episodes of school life, but it must be remem-
bered that the ego was one about whom I who write can
now deal quite impersonally. We are living in spacious
and stirring times, when a record of the trifling career of
a boy is perhaps out of place ; and yet I think that from
my life, as thus far disclosed, there is much of what Mr
Jorrocks would have called "good avoidance" to be
learned by youngsters of the present day. True, I cannot
be blamed for being left at such an early age with a guardian
who was no guardian and a doctor who would always
certify that I was ill. The circumstances were peculiarly
trying ; but we know that boys have now taken to the
responsibilities of life much earlier than they did then,
and many have been at the front and many have met
death at an earlier age than I was when I left school,
being then nineteen years old.

The trend of strenuous events now is towards the quicker
development of character, but nothing will ever alter the
lesson which I have ventured to illustrate in some measure
— viz. that mere ability and talent may be wasted — wasted
almost utterly — unless some sort of reasonable respect is
paid to the opportunities which may be granted us for
developing those qualities. A flash-in-the-pan effort
now and again may seem brilliant and even achieve its
immediate object, but it is not the real thing and does
not carry on.

I am going to show before the end of this book that, so
far from a love of bloodstock and racing having injured
my career, it has proved to some extent my salvation.

Of the famous men that were at Rugby in my day I
cannot but again mention Selous, who, after a life that
will never be forgotten, sleeps well under one of the
battle-fields of East Africa, where he met with a soldier's
death in the cause of his king and country. I have
mentioned also Lord Ranksborough, and of him it should
be added that, as General Brocklehurst, he was in command
of the Cavalry Brigade at Ladysmith, which is enough
for the fame of anyone, though it is but one of his many

146 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

notable public services, at Tel-el-Kebir, in the Soudan;
and elsewhere.

William Amias Bailward was also a good friend of mine
at Rugby, and, later, at Balliol. He, since the early
eighties, has done a vast amount of good public work in
London.

Another contemporary of mine, though only for the
last year or so at school, was John Simons Harrison, whom
I did not get to know well at that time, as he was younger
and in another house, but we have been intimate friends
now for many years, and no one knows better than I do
how much he has done for the good of our bloodstock
breeding and the horse industry in general. Such services
are of vast importance, though seldom recognised in
England at their true value to the nation. In other
countries of the world the man who is a real expert
in horse breeding and supply comes in for State recogni-
tion, but in England rarely, if ever. Horses are supposed,
by the "unco guid," to be instruments of gambling,
spreading a vicious miasma over all who have anything
to do with them. Hence it is that on the outbreak of
war we are always woefully short of horses.

CHAPTER XIV

Racing in 1870 — Contemporaries at Balliol — H. H. Asquith —
Lord Randolph's First Election— The Master — Life in Col-
lege— On the River — Boxing with Tom Evans — Billiards
and the Proctor — Morrison's Fours — "Billy" Fairer — Sup-
planted by Lord Elgin — Hunting preferred to Rowing —
Hack-hunters — Charlie Symonds — Tollitt — Birmingham Dog
Show preferred to " Smalls "—Bob Colling, the Elder-
Concerning his Wedding

THAT summer of 1870 passed pleasantly enough,
and there was real delight in seeing the white-
faced bay two-year-old, Tullibardine, by Blair
Athol, win easily at York August Meeting. The bookmakers
and crowd generally put the accent on the last syllable
of his name, as in the verb, to dine. He was the property
of Mathew Dawson and, at that time, a colt of much
promise, but he did not train on. A few years later I
recognised him in a hansom in Pall Mall, and had a ride
behind him. At that same York Meeting I saw Bothwell
win one of the two-year-old races. He was a low, lengthy,
level, bay colt, with plenty of quality, except for his plain
head. He was a really good one, too, and beat Sterling
fairly and squarely for the 2000 Guineas the following
year, with King of the Forest an indifferent third ; but,
after that, Bothwell went wrong in his wind and did no
more good.

In those times there used to be sales of horses on
Knavesmire before the races, and sometimes sales of dogs.
At one such sale I bought for £2 a Clumber spaniel named
Dash, who was not only a champion in his work but
proved to be a sure prize-winner wherever he was shown.
Why his original owner, Major Stapylton, sold him was
always a mystery.

147

148 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Of course we visited Doncaster to see Kingcraft run,
and of all the Derby winners I have ever seen, not one
was, or is, better-looking than Kingcraft — a perfect model
of a horse for almost any purpose. He started a hot
favourite and right up to the distance he had the race at
his mercy, but Hawthornden, a narrower and more wiry
sort, was a staunch battler, and Kingcraft, when challenged,
showed no liking for a struggle ; so he simply fainted out
of the race and allowed the son of Lord Clifden to win.
The sight of this annoyed me not a little, for after winning
that £20 over Kingcraft's Derby I had been inclined to
idealise him. The first race of the afternoon had been far
more agreeable, for the Blair Athol colt, Ptarmigan, won
it so easily that it was decided to start him in the St
Leger also. For well over a mile he set such a cracking
pace and gained such a tremendous lead that people
shouted ; " They'll never catch him," but Legers are not
won in that way, even by an Orme or a Kenny more —
and, of course, Ptarmigan came back to his horses shortly
after passing the rifle butts. Kingcraft was kept in
training a good many years afterwards, but he only
further and further discredited himself.

Very shortly after that St Leger week I commenced my
life at Oxford, and of those who were freshmen at Balliol
with me it seems incongruous that H. H. Asquith, our
recent Premier, should have been one, but so it was be-
yond all possible question. W. H. Mallock was another
of that same term, but for him one always had more of an
affinity. Stuart Wortley and Warner had both come with
me to the same college, as also did Bailward a year later.
Then there was James Hozier (now Lord Newlands),
one of the very best, whose proficiency in modern languages
gained him a nomination a year or two later to the Foreign
Office.

Another good friend was C. C. Rhys, now dead, but
destined to gain fame as "C.C.R.," "The Pote " of
The Sporting Times in its best days. Then I come upon
the name of Almeric Fitzroy, now of Privy Council repute.

BALLIOL CONTEMPORARIES 149

He was always one of my good friends, and his only trouble
was that, not having been educated at a Public School,
he was at first puzzled how to deal with examination
papers, for he had enough knowledge to answer the questions
so voluminously that he could not get through them in
the time. E. L. Vaughan, now a master at Eton, also
came up that term, as did H. D. Rawnsley, now a canon
and poet, but then an athlete of considerable prowesc.
There was Sackville Russell, clad in such uncouth garments
that I gave him the name of " Sackcloth " Russell. Poor
fellow ! He became Marquis of Tavistock and Duke of
Bedford, and died in 1893. A. H. Page was an 1870
man, and he is now Dean of Peterborough. Wilson had
come on from Rugby, and a new friend turned up in
E. F. Vicars, so immensely tall that when he first came
into a lecture-room someone quoted Alice — "No one
more than a mile high is allowed in court." We all liked
Vicars. He was subject to fits of savage indignation over
trifles, and that alone was amusing, but there was really
true friendship for him on his own account, and many who
had not seen him for years sincerely regretted him when
he died, not along ago, at Eastbourne.

Harking back to the 1868 undergraduates, I find among
them W. M. Sinclair, an excellent friend of mine, who
became Archdeacon of London, but he too has passed
over. Another who came up at that time was Richard
Ord, who is now so widely known as a handicapper.

In 1869 there arrived the Earl of Elgin (of whom more
anon), R. H. Benson, the great long-distance runner;
Edwards-Moss, now Sir J. E. ; P. M. Kidd, notable now
as a physician ; William (" Billy ") Fairer (Rev.), and A. L.
Smith, now Master of Balliol.

To pass on for a moment to 1871 — there came up in
that year Arthur Saumarez (Hon.), C. Gore (Bishop of
Oxford, 1911), Baden-Powell, F. S. ; Henry Seymour
King (Sir) ; Lindsay Smith and Rowland Prothero, who,
with Vicars, had been at Marlborough. Smith is now
great in the banking world, while Prothero (Lord Ernie)

150 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

is the best agricultural minister this country ever had.
There came also at this time W. W. Asquith, brother to
H. H., and there was Cecil Chapman, well known now as
a Police Magistrate. There were many others, but I
knew all the above well, barring the Asquiths, of whom
I may say that W. W. is a year older than H. H., and he
became an assistant master at Clifton College from 1876
to 1910.

Among an older lot, not at our college, whom I met
that first term was Archibald Stuart Wortley, then just
going down, and so well known afterwards as an artist
and a pigeon shot. He gave his brother and me much
sage advice. Another was J. A. Doyle, fellow of All
Souls and a graduate of Balliol. It is seldom that a
Freshman makes friends with a Fellow, but I made
friends with Doyle from the very outset, and it was
through me that he first took an interest in fox-terrierfe,
of which he ultimately became one of the best judges.
In the British thoroughbred he had always been interested,
like his namesake, Sir Francis Doyle, also of All Souls,
but fox-terriers constituted a new departure, and like
everything else he did, he studied the subject thoroughly
and, what is more, effectually.

Then there was Frank Parker, a brother of my friend
Sydney Parker, and to him I sold a fox-terrier almost at
once, for one of his friends, though he too was at the end
of his University career. Lord Randolph Churchill, also,
was still at Oxford, but I think it was his last term.
I saw him once or twice, but no one at that time had even
dreamed of him as likely to do great things in public life
— unless, indeed, he dreamed such a dream himself. There
were many stories about him — probably untrue — but
none suggestive of future eminence, and, when a year or
so later he first stood for Woodstock, some of the Radical
dons went there to assist his opponent as a protest against
this shocking misuse of ducal influence. However, Lord
Randolph got in all right and we know how far he made
good.

BALLIOL DONS 151

There is a wonderful change from school to university
life, and whether the sudden change is for the better may
be doubtful, but I must say I vastly preferred the Balliol
dons to the Rugby schoolmasters. Not a single one of the
dons was a bad sort — even from my point of view. The
master — " Jowler," as he was called — I always liked,
though he was an inscrutable being with a habit of saying
in a few words something that deprived you of any capacity
to answer.

Moreover, on a first introduction he got badly on the
nerves of the nervously inclined, for he would, at the
outset, look into vacancy and say little or nothing. This
presumably was to draw out your powers of initiating a
conversation, but it was a rather dreadful ordeal, for
the fear of saying something foolish was ever before you,
but when once you had broken the ice he was kindness
itself. Other dons that I really liked were T. H. Green,
R. L. Nettleship, J. L. Strachan-Davidson and F. de
Paravicini. The last-named was a by no means indifferent
horseman, and as such he was a rarity at Balliol. Strachan-
Davidson and Nettleship were capital fellows both, and
the latter, who died all too young, inspired in me a perhaps
self-regarding esteem — because he appreciated my Latin
verses.

My first rooms were on the top floor in the corner of
the quad, to the left of the Master's house, and my first
scout was a large, fleshy man named William, who was
interested in racing, and also in providing you with a
full supply of every comestible that you did not want just
as term was ending. Somehow in those tunes one did not
realise how primitive the old college rooms were. Bath-
rooms were unknown, and a bath in your room with a can
or two of cold water had to suffice.

But it was fine to be your own master, so to speak,
and have your own servant instead of a fag. Then you
could have your own wine and other drinks without fear
of any higher authority, and very early did I lay in my
supplies of what in my immature wisdom I deemed good,

152 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

from Messrs Badger & Sheldon, of Shipston-on-Stour,
with whom I dealt during the whole of my stay at Oxford,
and I hope the firm still carries on. The fact that when
installed at Oxford you can obtain credit from tradesmen,
and say : " Send this or that to my rooms," with the assur-
ance that you need not pay for it until a quite indefinite
period, did not appeal to me, for I had always had pretty
much what credit I desired from my guardian, and did
not really know what it meant to want money. This
same credit business, however, must have been a serious
temptation to those who had been under tight control
until then.

Balliol has always been a great rowing college, and the
idea of being well coached on the river was an immediate
attraction. I and others were quickly fastened on as
likely to do some good, and I fear that I ill repaid the trouble
which the devoted boating men took over me. Even then
there was another interest, as shown in a letter dated
30th October 1870 :

We have begun boating and are coached every afternoon,
after which we adjourn to Tom Evans and box for about an hour.
He lets us box together now, and looks on complacently the while.
Every now and then we have a round with him, but he does not
altogether like it now as he has a bad cold and his nose is very
sore. We find it good policy not to hit him there, even if we can,
as he is sure to avenge himself speedily.

An outsider came in yesterday, and Tom Evans knocked him
about unmercifully. Instead of saying, as he used to us : "I
will now touch you lightly," he said : " I will now hit you six times,'-*
and did so before the miserable man fairly knew where he was.

We play a game or two at billiards every night and are becoming
quite expert. Every night last week were we fined pence for
coming in late but " no matter."

We were at a " Wine " at Christ Church the other evening,
a very different affair indeed from the one here, as we did not
get away till past 1 1 o'clock.

The most amusing thing occurred the other night. We were
playing billiards at about half-past ten, of course without caps
and gowns. We had just been deriding the idea of Proctors,
when suddenly a seedy-looking man put his head in at the door
and grinned. We thought at first he wanted the table, but soon

MORRISON'S FOURS 153

perceived other seedy-looking men in the passage, whilst from the
midst of them there walked into the room a real live Proctor.

The whole affair at the time seemed so absurd, and the Proctor
looked so ridiculous, that we burst into the most uproarious
laughter, and the more he asked us if we were members of this
University the more did we laugh. At last we told him our names
and colleges and, having "troubled us to leave off playing,"- he
departed in solemn state. This being the first time, we escaped
with a fine of IDS.

As to being proctorised, that is the common experience
of all foolish freshmen ; but Tom Evans is a more interest-
ing subject. He was a notable pugilist in his day, and a
first-rate instructor at any time, especially as regards
footwork. At the period mentioned he must have been
well over fifty, and was certainly fat. He did not stand
more than about 5 feet 6 inches, but he had great loosely
coupled shoulders and prodigiously long arms. At his
best he must have been very formidable indeed. I was
very much interested in boxing and Tom Evans taught
me a great deal, but that did not mean giving up the river
— not a bit of it ; and I was among the " freshers "
drawn for Morrison's Fours, which is a race for Balliol
freshmen, with one capable older man to stroke each boat.
The strokes choose their crews in rotation from the
available material, and it fell to my lot to be rhosen with
Wilson and Vaughan by Billy Farrer, who was an extra-
ordinary good oar for his weight. Vaughan was bow, I
was 2, and Wilson 3, and the following letter to Tom
Scott foreshadows what happened : —

2^th Nov. 1870.

The most aggravating thing is that I have gone and got a sort
of gathering inside my hand which necessitated throwing up work
for three days. We were getting on splendidly in our boat and
were the favourites, but now I fear we shall be no use. We
paddled seven miles in our light boat last time I was out, without
any inconvenience.

I am going to essay once more to-day, having had a rapid
though hardly effectual cure made of my hand by a Doctor.

I should think Fret will have a chance at Birmingham as they
are judged privately and she will have nothing to frighten her.

154 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Smalls come on almost directly, which I can hardly hope to
get through as I have not done any mathematics whatever this
term.

Tom Evans has been ill, so we have not had any boxing lately.
He is going to give a grand entertainment on the 2pth and has
engaged several celebrated men to perform. You see placards
about the town saying that " Professor Tom Evans begs to state,"
etc. etc.

There is yet more than a week before our boat-race and I have
been rowing since I began this letter. I fancy that I am sound
again. We may yet get fit by the day, but we needed to be very
fit, as we are a very light crew, bow only weighing about 8 st. 5 Ib.
At the same time, he is a very good man. No one in the boat
weighs n st., and in one of the adverse boats no one weighs less.
Still we are considered to have a chance second to none. I hope
it may be so.

My belief that I was "sound again" at the time of
writing that letter proved to be incorrect, for though I
kept the affected part of my hand for hours in the hottest
endurable water the " gathering," which followed on a
blood blister, refused to disperse and two days before
the race I had to give it up as a bad job and clear out of
the boat. An eleventh-hour substitute was found in the
Earl of Elgin, who was not much of a rowing man anyway
and was quite untrained. Even so, Farrer stroked them
so well that they got into the final heat, and then were
defeated by no more than a yard by the winners. It
is reasonable to suppose, in the circumstances, that had
I kept all right, we must have won. Farrer is now the
vicar of Bisham, near Marlow, where his favourite re-
creation is rowing. He was, in 1873, the first " ninth man "
for the University Eight. He stroked our college boat
when head of the river in 1873. He was three times in
the winning crew of the University Fours, and once in
the pairs. He had been in the Eton Eight in 1868, and
he rowed in no fewer than fifty-seven races for Balliol,
so it is needless to say that in that early experience of
rowing I had the advantage of being behind a first-class
man.

HACK-HUNTERS 155

That I showed some sort of promise may be gathered
from a letter written early in the following term, 1871 : —

I rowed in our Torpid one day last week, but probably shall
not do so again, as it was only to supply the place of a man who
could not row that day. However it shows that I stand next on
the list for preferment.

We have just sent off some twenty or thirty pounds, collected
in the College, for the Paris Relief Fund.

That was forty-seven years ago, and Paris had suffered
terribly from the Huns ; as France has done during the
past four years. This time, however, it is to be hoped the
invaders will be compelled to pay in full for their wanton
and widespread destruction.

Whether I should ever have taken to the regular routine
which is essential to advancement in boating is more than
doubtful, but the disappointment over Morrison's Fours
had diverted me into a natural preference for hunting,
and so I had started on the " fearful joy " of riding hack-
hunters from Charlie Symonds' or Tollitt's stables, the
South Oxfordshire being the pack I at that time preferred
— mainly, I expect, because Lord Macclesfield, the Master,
was the father of my friend, Sydney Parker.

In those days it seemed possible to get satisfaction out
of almost anything, but an Oxford hack-hunter at £2
a day was certainly dear at the price. He would be
hunted not less than twice a week, and probably be hacking
at IDS. an afternoon during the remaining four days,
so that he earned more than his value in one term.

Old Charlie Symonds was a stout, red-faced man, of
medium height, and with a peculiar twitch in his features,
somewhat of a St Vitus character. He knew all that was
worth knowing about horses and could sell you good ones
if he found you disposed to launch out. His nephew,
C. G. Symonds, commonly called " Master Charles," had
the Randolph Hotel stables, and he too was doing a similar
business, but of him I shall have a good deal more to
say later. The general subject is only introduced here to

156 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

show how it was that hunting prevented me from going
on with rowing. You cannot do both, and hunting was
first choice.

It has already been shown in the Prologue how in that
first term I neglected to put my name down for Smalls
and went to Birmingham Dog Show instead, and in the
rest of the letter making that announcement it would
seem that the demand for dogs was brisk. The date
is 5th December 1870 :

I have had several applications for dogs, and I think some
must turn out purchasers. Tartar is going to be sent to Antwerp
after all. I sent them one dog which I picked up for £5, IDS.
and got £5 for it — money down. They now want Tartar. May
he be happy ! . . . We could have won easily at Birmingham
with the setter that died, as the class she would have been in was
the poorest I have ever seen — though the other classes of Gordon
setters were very good.

This first term was not spent in a manner likely to find
favour with the Balliol dons, and in the next summer term,
on 22nd May 1871, 1 wrote ;

I am afraid I shall not be able to get to the wedding, as " Jowler "•
steadily sets his face against it. He would have let anyone else
go, but not me. ... Tell Lizzie she will receive a multitude
of salt cellars from me.

The above extract is interesting, as the wedding referred
to was that of Robert Colling, of Hurworth, with the second
daughter of Mr Scott, the Coxwold vicar — it appears
the "salt cellars" were changed for dessert knives and
forks, and I did, in point of fact, attend the wedding. Bob
Colling, so well known now as a successful trainer and
good all-round sportsman, was the first child of that
marriage.

The importance I attached to the wedding of his father
and mother may be inferred from the care taken in selecting
my present. A letter, written a few days after the one
quoted above, says :

CHOOSING A WEDDING PRESENT 157

I have thought it just possible that dessert knives and forks
may not be among the presents, and as I found a really good
silver set in a box, I have exchanged the salts for them, with the
understanding that they are to be changed again if unsuccessful.
I shall bring them with me, and can take them back if necessary. I
am sorry about the salts . They are very perfect ones . But dessert
things are, I suppose, about as useful. The salver is the next
thing to fall back on. It is a very fine one, but not of a good
size, being a good deal larger than the ordinary small ones, and
yet not really a large-sized one.

I shall have to go back on Thursday, in fact am stretching a
point in coming away before one o'clock to-morrow.

We have got on much better this term in the way of baffling
the Dons, but they will too surely encompass us in their toils
at the end of the term, when they are going to examine us in half
our work for Moderations.

How I got leave to go to the wedding may be told in
another chapter.

CHAPTER XV

After Dinner with Jowett — Nervous Apprehensions — The
Dervorguilla Society — Leave granted to attend the Wedding
— Rats at Butler's — Hunting a Badger — Swinburne after
Lunch — Drum Major and how he won at Haxby — His
Defeat at Myton — Buying Angram for Lindsay Smith —
Drum Major and Angram at Oxford — A Run with the Bicester
— Henry S. King and the Fistula trix — Drum Major dis-
appoints— Attempt to raffle him — A Serious Word or Two

IT was a custom of the Master of Balliol to gain closer
knowledge of the individualities of youthful under-
graduates, by inviting this or that one to come to
his house after dinner and have a chat. This meant
sitting with him in solitary state in his dining-room with
a bottle of wine on the mahogany table, a dish of biscuits
and two plates. The anticipation of such a session was
in my case somewhat nerve-racking, and it was before
I got my leave to attend the Colling-Scott wedding that
I received an invitation to go to the Master's house after
dinner. All the serious papers, such as The Saturday
Review, The Athenceum, The Spectator and others were
read by me at the Union Club that afternoon. There
was an abiding fear of being tried and found wanting in
subjects that any reasonable being should understand.

Most people will fail to realise what it means to have
" nerves " over the mere prospect of having to sit and
talk to a benevolent old gentleman of cherubic countenance,
but I know I suffered from nerves very badly when I was
ushered into his presence and sat down at the table side
on his left hand. Beyond saying "Good-evening," he
made no further observation but passed the wine, which,
to the best of my recollection, was indifferent sherry.

I helped myself with shaking hand and tried to think

158

ALONE WITH THE MASTER 159

of something to say. There was the awful fear that in a
moment of aberration one might mention the weather
and receive some withering retort. I can only remember
those few seconds of intense nerve strain, but of what I
did actually say I have not the faintest recollection. I
only know that we were soon talking quite easily, and all
my apprehensions had vanished. He even unbent so
far as to jest about the Dervorguilla Debating Society
which some of us had just formed — at least I was one of
the original members — Fitzroy was the leading light in it.
The jest was that perhaps Periham would be a better
title than Dervorguilla for the society, and that is a jest
which no one but a Balliol man will understand. Be
that as it may, the Dervorguilla is now the oldest of Balliol
College societies, and was so named after Dervorguilla
of Galloway, wife of John de Balliol, these two having
been the founders of the College in 1263 and 1284.

Now there is no further need to point out to anyone
who reads with inside knowledge that the Master and I
had somehow got on quite well in desultory conversation,
and before an hour had passed I had told him how I
had no home except at Coxwold Vicarage, and that the
daughters of that house were to all intents and purposes
my sisters. One of them was to be married and I was
most anxious to be there on the day if it could possibly
be permitted. He agreed at once that I should go, on
condition of hurrying back again, but added that the
bride " ought to have been a nearer relation."

Now he actually said this to me. I have heard many
stories ascribed to him of a similar sort, mostly about
men wanting to go down for a funeral ; but my story is
bedrock truth, and that is how I got what in these days
we should call my " permit," to go to the wedding of
"Bob" Ceiling's father and mother. It seems almost
wonderful to have lived through all these years.

I put "Bob" Ceiling's name in "quotes," for his
father, Bob Colling, is alive, and was a contemporary with
the late Marquis of Queensberry at Cambridge, together

160 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

with Tom Milvain. All of them were more than useful
with the gloves at that period, and for a good deal later
if occasion demanded.

I had got through Smalls all right in my second term,
and all was going well — or appeared to be so. The craze
for fox-terriers was on the increase, and others besides
the Rugby fraternity participated. I provided Vicars
with a nice little bitch named Violet. Arthur Blackwood,
another new friend, became possessed of Blister, just a
fair sort of dog, but given to cat-worrying at inopportune
times, and there werp many other dog-owners. Most
of us kept them with an old man named Hedge, some-
where between the Schools and New College. Hedge
was the maker of a certain lotion which he declared was
a sovereign remedy for all injuries to horses or dogs, and
we came to look upon him as a high authority on racing
because he occasionally went to Woolcot's at Beckhampton,
taking bottles of his lotion, and used to come back with
what passed for stable information.

It was quite enough if he had only seen a horse leave
the stable to go to a meeting. " I seed him go," he would
say, " and he won't be far off winning."

The terriers used to live in barrels in a yard at Hedge's,
and he did them well ; but his racing tips were usually of
the worst. There came a time when he saw Gang Forward
pass the station on his way to Doncaster, and told his
friends that there was the Leger winner, but Gang Forward
never started for the race and Hedge's repute as a tipster
from that time began to wane.

There was a man in a part of Oxford, near Port Meadow,
who kept hundreds of rats in large cages in his back
yard, and his kitchen was so fitted that a convenient rat
pit could be made in one of the corners, where two boards,
about four feet deep, hinged to and folded against the walls,
and could be pulled out and joined together at the outer
angle, thus forming a square enclosure, of which the
walls furnished two sides. Rats at sixpence each were
supplied in any numbers that you might desire for the

A BADGER HUNT 161

trial of your dog, and Mrs Butler, a tall, gaunt female,
would pick them out of the big cages without putting
a glove on. It was a gruesome sight, but no terrier was
thought worth keeping in those days until he or she had
been thoroughly entered to business of this sort.
Occasionally Butler would become possessed of more
formidable prey, such as a polecat, and that was a costly
luxury. Once a freshly caught badger was provided and
we arranged what was thought a good scheme for hunting.
I drove out with it in a sack to somewhere beyond Wood-
stock, and having got a boy to hold the pony, carried the
sack with the badger in it a considerable distance across
country and then enlarged the quarry. A drag made
up of the badger's bedding was meanwhile being trailed
towards the point where I was, and when I saw the man
with the drag coming I met and stopped him two or three
hundred yards short of where the badger had been released,
and had apparently made good its escape. We lifted and
carried the drag well away from the line and then watched
until presently the terriers — about a dozen of them —
came in sight, running keen as mustard; then their
various owners ; and when the pack threw their heads up
where the drag had been lifted it was really interesting
to see them cast and try to hit off the scent again.

" Whativer ye de, always cast forrard," was the advice
given by James Pigg, of immortal memory, and someone
followed it on this occasion, so that at last they got on
the actual line, but the badger, though in his native
country, had not gone far, and they ran into him all too
soon. It was, after all, not much better than our shocking
fiasco with the bagged fox at Rugby.

This may not be a pleasing story but it serves to give
some idea of the manners and customs of that period.

It must not be thought that some energy was not
devoted to more worthy objects, and, on the whole, we
were not progressing badly, but the attractions of Oxford
are numerous indeed and it is difficult to concentrate your
mind on lectures and reading.

162 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

I may say here that though the " wines " after dinner
in one another's rooms were very convivial and pleasant,
these were never, in my experience, carried to excess,
and not even at a " bump " supper, though on these latter
occasions there might be wild and perfectly natural
hilarity. I never saw anyone really overcome by wine
at Oxford except the poet Swinburne, and that was
probably due to his ill-health.

He was staying with the Master about the time I
am now dealing with, and an undergraduate named
J. R. Anderson had invited him to lunch one Sunday.
Swinburne speedily yielded to the inspiration of Bacchus,
and went to sleep in an arm-chair, breathing heavily.
Anderson became rather alarmed, and went out to consult
whomever he could find. It so chanced that he met me,
and I went with him to his rooms, where I saw the sleeping
poet, now snoring. I advised that he should not be
disturbed, and there he slept throughout the afternoon,
awaking barely in time to meander across the quad and
dine with the Master. What happened then I know not,
but Anderson got into trouble about it, though it was no
fault of his.

During the Long Vacation in 1871 I purchased a big
thoroughbred horse named Drum Major from a vet.
named Lamb, at Shipton, not far from York. He was by
Drumour out of Presumption, stood about 16-1, and had
once been trained by William Day. Moreover, George
Thompson had won the Club Hunt Cup at York on him.
He made a noise and had dreadful joints, but Tom Scott
and I conceived the idea that we could train him round
the Coxwold town's pasture, with occasional gallops on
Hambleton, and possibly win even a Cesarewitch. I gave
£26 for him.

The sight of him when he was brought to Coxwold
struck awe into the heart of the village butcher, John
Batty, who owned a famous " leather-flapping " champion
named Brown Shales, for he thought of Drum Major as
a possible rival, little dreaming of our higher aspirations.

LEATHER-FLAPPING 163

" By gor ! but he's a great la'nching 'oss ! " ejaculated
he, when he gazed at the tall, gaunt form of our supposed
champion.

I have told in another book how I humoured the
butcher's whim, and after a gallop in which I rode Drum
Major and easily beat Brown Shales I suffered him to
take both horses to the leather-flapping fixture at Haxby,
where the course was down a sandy lane, and there he and
his brother Anthony entered both the horses. Drum
Major won his race, but Brown Shales just failed to win
his. They were heat races, and after Drum Major had
passed the post easily first in the second heat — as he had
done in the first — the judge, who sat in a wagon and had
been taking a drink and not looking, declared it a dead heat.
John Batty was speechless with indignation, and said to
me : " Wait till I get three penn'orth o' rum into me, and
then I'll talk tiv him !"

However, the third heat intervened, and as Drum Major
won that beyond all possible doubt, even the " three
penn'orth of rum " did not prevent anger from evaporating.

Those old country " leather-flapping " races were quite
good sport in their way, and nothing at all akin to the
hybrid fixtures which from time to time of late years
have been organised as a miserable substitute for racing
under Jockey Club rules.

We were much encouraged by the form Drum Major,
in a totally untrained condition, had shown at Haxby,
and decided to run him at a much more ambitious meeting
at My ton, in Major Stapylton's park. Having treated
his joints with " neurasthenipponskelesterizo " and stood
him daily in the running water that flows from Newburgh
fishpond ; having also galloped him and sweated him
round the town's pasture morning by morning — and I
rode him myself generally, for our own groom could not
be persuaded to go fast enough—we finally galloped him
on Hambleton with a big, raw five-year-old by Pontifex,
bred by John Coates of Angram, and called after that
farm. This horse had been lent to my sister on trial, and

164 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

he was anything but a promising lady's horse, but he
made an uncommonly good show against Drum Major
on Hambleton all the same, despite our training of the
latter, and all our hopes were disappointed at Myton when
Drum Major was badly beaten in each of three heats by
little rats of animals off Hambleton. This dissipated the
dream of a Cesarewitch, and though he had pulled up lame
after each heat, his old joints were, no doubt, pretty
callous, and I decided to hunt him, for he was a rare
jumper.

It happened that Lindsay Smith had asked me to look
out for a horse likely to suit him for College grinds, and
Angram seemed a right sort, though not such as my
sister wanted. I therefore wrote to tell him I would
bring Angram for him along with my own (Drum Major),
the next term, £100 being the price, and I arrived at
Oxford with the two precious animals, which were con-
signed to the Randolph stables and met at Oxford station
by John, the head man of " Master Charles " Symonds.

Smith was a good horseman, and it did not take him
long to get on terms with Angram, who was anything but
a made hunter at that time, but very free and willing to
do his best. No more hack-hunters now, for we rejoiced
in our own, and in one letter of this term, which must have
been written in October, there is the following : —

I have had a long day's hunting to-day (with the Bicester).
We had to take our horses on by train, and we had a very fast run
over quite the worst country I ever was in. I saw no less than
twenty people fall.

At the first fence, which was far from an easy one, someone
cut in, in front of me, and I was obliged to stop and jump it at
a stand. The horse fell on his head at the other side, but got up
with me very well. Angram also nearly fell, and Smith got a
thorn run into his eye. Thence we proceeded at topmost speed,
encountering all sorts of outlandish fences — doubles, etc. After
going about twenty minutes well with the hounds, I thought I
could make still better out by jumping a certain fence, while the
others were going round by a gate. But, to my disgust, Drum
Major, deprived of his companions, refused most resolutely, and

DRUM MAJOR 165

I had to go to the gate, having lost much ground. Still his speed
was so great that I did not much care.

The very next fence, two men, one on each side of me, came
down, and their horses continued the run on their own accounts.
The next fence, a man close by me came down and his horse broke
its back. The next fence, which was a widish ditch with a sort
of gap on the other side, I was going at, when suddenly, just as
Drum Major rose, one of the loose horses rushed at the same place
and knocked him right over into the ditch on his side. I jumped
from his back, as he was falling, on to the hedge bank and from
thence back into the field again . I got him out without any diffi-
culty and was on and over within half-a-minute. We then came
to a pasture field and he really set to work and passed twenty-five
others before we got to the end of it, at length fairly regaining
his place in the front.

We ran for fully an hour and our horses were quite done. We
had to fetch them back by train from Bicester. Angram went
about first all the way.

The above reads like a mixture of Pomponius Ego and
Baron Munchausen ; nevertheless I remember that it is
true in all its main details ; but it is evident that I still
retained a pathetic belief in Drum Major's great speed.
This belief was rudely shattered some weeks later, when
Angram was now getting into shape, for Smith rode him
one afternoon in a weird saddle — the property of " Master
Charles ' ' — which had a stone of lead in it, and we galloped
him and Drum Major a mile and a half on Port Meadow.
Angram won in a canter and gave me something to think
about.

If memory serves me, King — that is, Sir H. S. King —
was out with us that particular day with the Bicester, and
he rode one of the few good hack-hunters, a whistling mare
whom someone named Fistulatrix. Moreover, I have a
vivid recollection of him going very well on her. He will
remember her, I am sure.

My pride in Drum Major had had such a downfall that
before the end of the term I had decided to raffle him
for £40 in £L tickets, and the advertisement of this raffle
was shown in the window of the saddler, Orpwood
(successor to Slark). Such a proceeding would be out

166 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

of the question in these days, and was doubtless illegal
then, but at that time no one took any notice. I seem
to have got pretty sick of Drum Major, for there is the
following in a letter to my sister : —

You had better have a ticket for Drum Major, £i ; five for
£2, los. or ten for £5, and I will give you half the profits for him
back again if you get him.

My sister does not seem to have been tempted by this
proposal, and though £20 worth of tickets were taken at
Orpwood's, I declared the lottery off, as it did not fill.
On 26th November 1871, I wrote :

We were out hunting yesterday, but scent was bad and not
much was done, though there were plenty of foxes. At the same
time we had a good hunting run though very slow. The ground
was very heavy and made old Drum Major pipe to some tune.

I'm afraid I sha'n't be able to get through him here. He
kicked Angram rather badly the other day, for what reason I
don't know. We were riding quietly along the road when he
suddenly gave a great grunt and a jump and lashed out most
savagely at Angram. The Balliol athletics come off this week.
I am in for the half-mile handicap.

Angram was my initial experience in selling a horse,
and it was a satisfactory one, as will presently be shown.

That hunting term in the autumn and winter of 1871
passed very happily, for with all his infirmities Drum Major
was a rare good mount, except that he would not jump
water. We had days with the old Berkshire, of which
Mr Tom Duineld, with amazing flow of language, was
master. Mr Hall and the Heythrop also attracted us ;
and, of course, Lord Macclesfield and the South Oxford-
shire. He was a grand old sportsman, as everyone who
remembers him will agree. Hunting with him I first saw
Mr A. Dendy, one of the University College dons, going in
first-rate style, insomuch that I inquired who he was,
and felt ever afterwards that here was a man whose
lectures would be woith attending, and my fortune was
to attend them some two years later.

APPRECIATION OF GREEK 167

It must not be thought that serious work was altogether
neglected. I had and always have had an abiding interest
in the Classics since I got fairly going with them. We
live in days when materialists want no education that
is not of immediate use. They are perhaps right from
their point of view ; but who that has ever mastered
Greek sufficiently to appreciate the atmosphere and the
beauty of it would give up the influence it has exercised
over his mind, even though he could exchange that for
a thousand items of knowledge more immediately
profitable ?

This vast and terrible war will be written about by
historians for all time to come, yet I venture to say right
here — and I use an Americanism purposely — that nothing
will ever be written quite so absorbing as what Thucydides
wrote about the Athenians and their disastrous failure
both by sea and land at Syracuse. Enough of that, how-
ever ; I only want to make it plain that sport and folly
were not really weighing down the balance. There was
fairly solid work in the other scale.

CHAPTER XVI

The College Athletics — Training round the Quad — The Half-mile
Handicap and its Lesson — Lord Elgin again to the Fore —
Change of Rooms— Vicars and Warner— The Cellar and the
Outrageous Picture — Hanging the Picture — My Absence
Next Day — The other Picture-hangers "sent down '- — Extra-
ordinary Interview with the Master — I escape Scot-free —
Rose of Athol and the Pari-Mutuels — Prince Charlie — Boxing
at Blake's — George Faber — Improvement in the Cardinal

THE last letter quoted in the preceding chapter
mentions the College Athletics and that I was
entered for the half-mile handicap. I never
regarded this very seriously, but we were always pretty
fit, what with boxing and fencing in afternoons when
there was not hunting ; and a fortnight or so before the
time Smith used to run with me round the quad about
ten or eleven o'clock P.M. over what we had made out to
be half-a-mile. Probably there could be no more in-
judicious method of training — after dinner and wine,
which latter was never knocked off — but we used to
struggle desperately in those runs, for it so happened that
he had a good turn of speed, but could not really stay
half-a-mile, while I could stay right enough but had no
speed. Thus it happened that if I went for all I was
worth all the way I could beat him by a few yards ; and if
I relaxed even for a few strides he would always catch
and beat me for speed. There was a good deal to learn
from this as to what we often see in horse-racing, when,
for example, a speedy horse wins over a long distance in a
slow-run race. Smith and I came positively to dislike
running round the quad, for though we would start by
agreeing to go at a fair pace and not race we always did
race when once started.

168

LORD ELGIN'S HALF-MILE 169

Now so little did I really think of the Athletics, being
then the merest novice, that I never troubled to get shorts
or running shoes, and went to run in baggy flannels,
tucked into my socks, and boating shoes. I had been
given a start with which I could reach the winning post
in about i minute 55 seconds, so that really there should
have been no such thing as being beaten, and here came
the lesson which taught me for ever afterwards what
wind pressure means in racing, and why it was that
Tod Sloan's method of getting down " under the lee " of
his horse was bound to beat jockeys who persisted in
sitting upright.

I take the account of the Balliol Half-mile Handicap
from The Field of that date, for it gives a good description
of the conditions and what happened :

Dec. i, 1871.

A more wretched afternoon than that of to-day could not be
imagined, a bitter north wind and driving rain prevailing from
the time that the competitors turned out for the half-mile hep.

Half-mile Hep.— Earl of Elgin, i ; J. A. Bryce, 2 ; W. Allison, 3 ;
E. W. Estcourt, 4. [Fourteen ran, including R. H. Benson,
scratch.]

As the competitors turned out rain came down in torrents,
and were we to attempt a detailed account of the race \X*e should
only be practising on the credulity of our readers. Suffice it
to say that 250 yards from home Allison had a long lead, but was
caught in the next fifty yards by the Earl of Elgin, who, however,
only held his advantage for a short distance, when Allison again
went to the front. Fifty yards from home the Earl came again
with rare pluck, repassed the leader and won by three-quarters
of a yard ; Bryce just shooting Allison on the tape by six inches
for second ; half a yard only dividing third and fourth. Time,
2 min. 3^ sees.

(The Field, Dec. 1871.)

The above account shows clearly what was the condition
of the wind and weather, but people who do not know
the track should understand that the run in for 250 yards
was dead in the teeth of that north wind and rain. I
forget what start I had but it was sufficient to make my

170 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

winning an absolute certainty, no matter who was scratch,
and though one of my ridiculous shoes came oft before
we had gone half-way, I came round into the straight
with a lead of at least fifteen yards and the race easily
in hand — as I thought. Someone shouted ; " Don't
win too easily ! Make a race for it ! " and then I faced
the wind and rain.

Almost in a moment all was changed. Those flannel
"bags" — rightly so called for the present purpose —
rilled out like sails, and I was running as if in a nightmare.
I was not beat — not in the least — but the wind was
stopping me, and very badly. I heard loudly increasing
shouts and knew that I was being hard pressed — someone
passed me for a moment, but I caught him again — then
that relentless wind and those awful holding "bags" —
it was a desperate struggle, and it was the wind pressure
only that beat me, though nominally the Earl of Elgin
and J. A. Bryce did. The race in itself is too absurdly
unimportant to write about, were it not that it so clearly
gave me an object lesson in what the wind can do, and
made me at once understand how Tod Sloan and those
who rode like him were bound to beat the old " poker-
backed " jockeys.

To dissipate any doubt on the subject, so far as I
personally am concerned, I may say that when properly
clothed and shod I beat Lord Elgin over the same course
the following year by more than fifty yards, and could
probably have given him 100 yards in half-a-mile.

It seems strange, however, that he should have sup-
planted me twice, first in Morrison's Fours and then in
this absurd half-mile. However, he became Viceroy of
India, and thus he finally left me in the lurch.

By that time I had changed my original rooms, and got
much better ones on the second floor, next the Master's
House in the inner quadrangle. Stuart Wortley had the
ground-floor rooms of the same staircase, and Smith was
opposite him on the same floor. Vicars was in the other
quad up a spiral staircase, adjoining the Master's House

BACCHANTES IN BALLIOL 171

on that side, with the then College Hall between us. I
forget exactly where \Varner was, and this is not because
friendship with him did not continue intimately — for it
did — but as at school, so at college he was more peaceful
than some of us were, and my memory of his acts and all
that he did is consequently not so clear. Yet I have
seen him incur the wrath of Vicars, as all of us did at
times, and on being attacked embrace him round the
knees like a classic suppliant, so that Vicars, who stood
about 6f °,et 4 inches, would topple over his small opponent,
and thus there would be laughter and finish. But Warner
is now the Rev. W. Warner. Time was (in 1882) when
he even preached a Latin sermon to the Balliol Vice-
Chancellor (Dr Jowett) ; he supervises women students,
looks after municipal charities and lodging-houses, and
does a thousand and one other good things. So of his
follies — if he had any — let me not write in these later
days.

It happened about the period under notice that one
evening not long before the end of term we discovered that
there was a basement or cellarage flat under the ground-
floor rooms and we got down there through an entrance
door that had evidently not been opened for years.
Exploring this underground region we discovered, among
other things, quite a number of old stained-glass windows
stored away, and a huge Bacchanalian picture, of a really
startling character. With great difficulty we succeeded
in conveying this picture up the stairs and through the
door to the ground floor. It was then taken into Stuart
Wortley's room, the greater part of one side of which
it covered. It was kept there till the following afternoon
(Sunday), and when dinner-time arrived and the Master,
with several important guests, had emerged from his
house and gone into the hall to dine, this appalling picture
was brought out and hung on a lamp-post in the quad
immediately facing and within ten yards of his house.
The scouts were in hall waiting at table, and there was
nobody about when this deed was perpetrated. We

172 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

could not, of course, stand by and watch developments,
so went into hall and dined with becoming gravity.
Moreover, we returned to our rooms afterwards and spent
an unusually quiet evening, without hearing anything
whatever about the picture.

Early next morning, in accordance with an arrange-
ment I had made some time before, I journeyed off to
Brokenhurst, in the New Forest, to see the famous fox-
terriers which a good old sportsman named Gibson kept
there, among them being Cottingham Nettle, the dam
of my own dog, Jester. After spending a very satisfactory
and instructive day, I got back late to Oxford and it was
about 10.30 P.M. when the college gate was opened to me.

That I was to go to the Master immediately on my
return — such was the message delivered to me by the
porter, and it seemed ominous. Obviously the first
thing to do was to see my friends and ascertain what had
happened. I soon found that the hangers of the picture
on the lamp-post had been discovered. The dons had
sat in common-room on the subject and all the available
culprits were to be " sent down " for the rest of the term.
I alone had not been available, and the common-room had
sat for an hour or more while the Messenger vainly sought
for me. Eventually the common-room ceased sitting, and
thus it fell out that it was left for the Master to deal with
me. The prospect seemed black indeed.

However, there was no escape, so I repaired to his house
and was shown up to his room. There was but a dim
light, and he was working with a reading-lamp in the far
corner, absorbed in his great work which as Jowett's
Plato became a classic from the moment it left the press.

He looked up as I entered, but seemed hardly to
recognise me, for his mind was concentrated on his work.
At last he said :

" Ah I Mr Allison." Then, after a pause : " Your
tutor tells me you haven't been attending lectures
regularly."

In an instant it flashed across me that he was not

MIRACULOUS INTERVIEW WITH JOWETT 173

thinking of me at all and that if I could get away without
diverting his thoughts from Plato all might yet be well ;
so I said, very, very quietly, that I would be more regular
in future, and backed as noiselessly as possible towards
the door. I had nearly got there when he said :

" Ah ! there was something else I had to speak to you
about."

" Now for it ! " thought I, but I felt instinctively that
there was still a chance if I made no noise, and held my
breath ; and so it proved, for the slight spark of recollec-
tion about me died out ; he was again immersed in Plato,
and glancing up for a fraction of a second, he said :

"I'll not detain you any longer."

Even so, no burglar ever opened a door or passed from
a room more silently than 1 did from his that night, for
I was so absolutely conscious that any sort of noise would
break his train of thought and rouse him to remembrance
of me.

I made my ghostly exit with perfect success, and for
me the incident of the picture-hanging was thus closed,
while my friends who were sent down could only envy
my extraordinary luck. I have told the story exactly
as it happened ; and it serves to show that a high-strung,
nervous organisation may sometimes serve you in good
stead. It was this that enabled me to appreciate in-
stinctively and at once how to save the position by keeping
as quiet as death.

In the matter of fox-terriers I had done well that year,
1871. Diver, a dog I bought from Fred Sale, of Derby,
won first and Cup at Darlington, in good company, on the
27th July, and Mr Arrowsmith, who also became affected
by the fox-terrier craze, got a prize with his Tiny, by
Jester. I appear in The Field of that date as " The Rev.
W. Allison," this, doubtless, because of the Coxwold
Vicarage address. Diver was a flat-catching sort of
dog, for he had a very long head and beautiful ears.
Moreover, he was dead game, but he was a bull-terrier to
all intents and purposes, and I never fancied him. Just

174 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

before sending him to Manchester Show in December that
year, I had him and Jester out exercising in the fields at
the back of the Vicarage. They caught a rabbit and then
started fighting, I was alone, but as Diver was going to
the show next day I was bound to separate them, if
possible, for Jester was a very hard-bitten customer.

It is very difficult indeed to separate two determined
dogs when you are single-handed, but I managed to seize
up Jester by the scruff of the neck, when for a moment
they loosed holds. Before I raised him high enough,
however, Diver sprang up and caught him by a hind leg,
whereupon Jester whipped his head round and got me
by the thumb. On that I was forced to drop him, and
they fought till they were fairly blown and exhausted.
Then I again got one of them, and carried him to the
kennels. I was never bitten by a dog except that time,
and of course it was an accident.

Diver was pretty well marked about his head, but we
fomented him assiduously that night, and sent him off
to Manchester next morning in a dog-box, without an
attendant.

This was the only time I ever sent a dog to a show
unaccompanied, and the result was indeed surprising, for
he won first prize in a very strong cla^s, the Hon. T. Fitz-
William's Tyke (a much better dog) being second, Chance II.
third, Underwood's Spot fourth, H. H. Gray's Tartar,
extra, fifth, and L. Turner's Trumps, extra, sixth. I sold
Diver for £40 after that show and was glad to be rid of
him.

At the York August Meeting that year the pari-mutuel
machines made their first and only appearance on Knaves-
mire. They were about eight or nine in number, and were
stationed outside the enclosures, near what is now the
entrance to the paddock. They took half-crown stakes,
and the machinery was well arranged to show the number
of stakes on each horse as half-crown after half-crown
was invested. This was done on the face of a big dial, the
figures changing mechanically to show each investment.

PARI-MUTUELS AT YORK 175

I was interested in the novelty and went out and put
2s. 6d. on Rose of Athol for the Great Yorkshire Stakes
in each of the machines. They did not, as under present
conditions, pay on an average of their takings, but made
their returns independently, though I believe all the
machines were in the same ownership. This idea was
not a bad one, for it gave variety to the attraction, some
showing better odds than others against your fancy,
whatever it might be, and for that reason I tried them all
with my Rose of Athol half-crowns. The daughter of
Blair Athol and Violet won easily from Ringwood Field-
Marshal and others, and the average return for my half-
crowns was 15 to i, while in the ring she had started at
8 to i.

These pari-mutuel machines were taken to one or two
other race meetings, but inasmuch as they were located
in public places, outside enclosures, the proprietors were
prosecuted as rogues and vagabonds, using instruments
of gambling, and convicted. That a pari-mutuel register
is not an " instrument of gambling " any more than is a
betting-book ought to have been sufficiently obvious, and
it is practically certain that a pari-mutuel inside a club
or club enclosure is as legitimate as a club sweepstakes
on the Derby.

There was a first-rate field for the York Cup on the
day when Rose of Athol won her race. Shannon won that
Cup from Agility and Gertrude, Dutch Skater, for whom
the distance was not far enough, being unplaced. It is
intended, after the war, to revive the York Cup, and that,
too, over the old two-mile course.

The star of Blair Athol was well in the ascendant in
1871, for though Rose of Athol got no nearer than fifth
for the St Leger, the magnificent Prince Charlie came out
for the Middle Park Plate, and won it after making all the
running. Laburnum ran a close finish with him, but
Prince Charlie had been stopped in his work, a week or so
before the race, and never again would Laburnum have
got near him. Baron Rothschild, however, who was

176 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

having a great year with Favonius, Hannah and Corisande,
was so elated by Laburnum's running that he shortly
afterwards made the speech in which he said : " The
Baron will race next year. Follow the Baron ! "

As a matter of fact, the luck changed, and he had a very
bad season " next year." His remark has come to be
associated with his fortunes of 1871, but incorrectly so.

Prince Charlie ran again, at the Houghton meeting,
when he met Cremorne, who until then was regarded as the
champion two-year-old, and beat him three lengths, into
third place, for the Criterion; Nuneham being second.
The Field stated that Cremorne's Derby pretensions were
thus effectually disposed of, but that was a case of pro-
phesying too soon. Prince Charlie stood 16-3 hh. at
that time, with immense power and bone. Never was
there such a horse in my experience, and some of us
hoped against hope that the report of his being wrong in
his wind was untrue. To me it was pure bliss that there
should be such a son of Blair Athol.

I wrote in a page or two before this that we were boxing
and fencing, and it should perhaps be explained that as
Tom Evans was getting too old I and some others had
gone on to Blake's, where Blake himself, a very fine sample
of humanity, was a first-rate instructor, not only for
boxing, but foils, single-stick or bayonet. There I soon
got a lesson in what it means not to stick to work. Boxing
at Tom Evans's there had been a man named Brancker,
so lacking in skill and aptitude that it was a simple matter
to hit him as often as you liked and to prevent his ever
hitting you, but he was a genuine trier and did not mind
how many times he was hit. Also he never missed a day
trying to improve himself.

Somehow I dropped about six months before I went to
Blake, and did no boxing in that interval. When I got
there I found Brancker, who had been plodding on all the
while and had come to Blake some months earlier.

I thought it would be an easy preliminary to have a
round or two with him, but found, to my intense surprise,

BOXING INCIDENTS 177

that he was now far too good. The man had no sort of
real talent for boxing, but had worked himself into some-
thing more than useful, and it was at least a month before
I got on terms with him again, and another month before I
could assert superiority, which was natural,but dependent,
as all so-called superiority must be, on work sufficient
to maintain it.

I really loved boxing and fencing, both being almost
perfection for sport and exercise, and I grew thick and
strong on the work till I weighed 12 stone 7 Ib. Blake
even talked of an amateur championship, and then
came a day when I boxed with G. D. Faber, now Lord
Wittenham.

No one would dream of either of us as pugilists now,
but I am writing of what I know, that George Faber in
those days, with the gloves on, presented a very difficult
problem. He was tall, lithe and active, with a long reach
and a fair knowledge of the game, and I rejoiced in meeting
such an opponent, until — and, of course, by accident — he
hit me with the inside of a glove on the side of the head,
and though little was thought of it at the time, such
trouble resulted that I had to see a specialist, who declared
my skull to be far too thin to stand serious boxing. I
almost wished I had been born thick-headed, for I was
full of boxing ambition at that time, but George Faber,
quite undesignedly, found out the weak spot, and I have
reason to thank him ; for in a serious contest it would
have been found out much more effectually, without a
doubt.

We had a fair measure of what the amateur champion-
ship form really amounted to that year, for Chappell was
one of us at Blake's, and he went up and actually did win
the heavy or middle weight — I forget which. Since then
he changed his name to Maddison.

One way and another life passed very happily in those
days, and in the Christmas vacation there was always
plenty of sport hunting with the York and Ainsty, the
Bedale, Lord Middleton's, the Sinnington and an occasional

178 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

day with the Hurworth. I shall have something more
to say about this later on, but at present I will get forward
to the next term, which was big with fate for the Cardinal,
as Angram was now called. Smith had greatly unproved
the horse in the vacation, and he was now quite clever,
even over timber and cramped places. We decided that
he was good enough to run for the Merton and Christ
Church grinds.

CHAPTER XVII

The Cardinal and the ' ' Grinds ' ' — How we trained him — His good
Race for the Merton " Grind '-' — Attempt made to buy him
— C. S. Newton corroborates — The Christ Church " Grind "-
— Victory all but assured — Fall and Death of the Cardinal —
Moments of Depression — I come of Age — Celebration of the
Event — Mods. Examination and the Latin Verse Paper —
Prince Charlie intervenes — More Depression — Dinners at
the Inner Temple — The old Bedford Hotel — Evans's

NONE of my old letters refers to the momentous
period when we set about training the Cardinal,
but I wrote some of my recollections last year in
The Sportsman, when referring to the death of the late
Mr W. H. P. Jenkins, and may as well quote from the
article :

MR "P. MERTON " : OXFORD MEMORIES

I had intended to write something about the late Mr W. H. P.
Jenkins, though he was a few years before my time ; but
Mr Henry Rouse, in Tuesday's issue, has done it from fuller know-
ledge than I could boast of. His letter is one of the greatest
possible interest, and should be kept for future reference by all
who are really interested in the history of 'Chasing. In early
days anyone a few years older than yourself seems to belong to
another generation, but Mr Jenkins, though not quite a con-
temporary of mine, did certainly play a considerable part in
the Merton " Grind " of 1871 or 1872, and also, I think, in the
Christ Church one the same year. I am often charged with having
a good memory, but here I am at fault, and I think Mr C. S. Newton,
or Mr Lindsay Smith, or Lord Harris could supply deficiencies.
The " Grinds "- used in the days I mention to be run on the old
course beyond the Bablock Hythe Ferry, and we — I say " weu
because Lindsay Smith's horse was one I had brought him from
Yorkshire, named Angram, but renamed the Cardinal, and we
were together in training him from the Randolph Hotel stables,
galloping sometimes at Bullingdon and sometimes on Port Meadow,
179

i8o " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

with my old decrepit plater, Drum Major — I say therefore "we,"
had this horse, the Cardinal, in both the Merton and Christ Church
!< Grinds '-' of that year, and W. H. P. Jenkins was somehow mixed
up with it, so was Lord Harris — who, I think, rode a winner —
and so was C. S. Newton. By the same token, however, our horse
knocked up against some pretty hot stuff in Merlin and Scarrington,
the latter of whom ran third for the Grand National the following
year. Lindsay Smith, who is now an austere and very eminent
banker, rode the Cardinal, and he was opposing something very
much better than the usual undergraduate jockey. He finished
a good third in the Merton " Grind " in a field of about fifteen,
and I think C. S. Newton tried to buy the horse afterwards — he
will correct me if I am wrong. Merlin was the winner, and I
think Scarrington was second. In the Christ Church "Grind-
a fortnight later — our horse having meanwhile done very well
— Merlin was penalised 7 lb., and, to cut a long story short, the
Cardinal was winning by half-a-furlong when the bank of a
ditch on the taking-off side gave way with him at the last fence
but one, and he broke his back, leaving Merlin to go on and win;

The vicissitudes of banking in war time may have troubled
Lindsay Smith in these last few years, but I question whether he
was ever more troubled than he was that day by the death of
the Cardinal, who must have been a smashing good horse, for his
opponents, which I have mentioned, had been fairly and squarely
trained by experienced men, whereas we were the merest novices
working from the Randolph stables, where you paid 243. 6d. a
week to keep your horse. The late C. G. Symonds — "Master
Charles " — however, who had the stables, was a sportsman, and
so was his head man " John " ; they helped us in every way
they could, and there was no food controller in those days. Still,
it is manifest that our horse must have been something " extra
special " to do what he did under such conditions. Whether it
was Merlin or Scarrington that Jenkins had to do with I cannot
for the life of me remember, but I know it was he who somehow
contributed to the defeat of the Cardinal, whose victory, as he
was the property of a Balliol undergraduate, would have been a
record indeed. He was only six years old, and was by Pontifex,
brother to Surplice, with many other crosses of blood.

It was twenty-five years later when I met " Master Charles ''•
in Oxford, the morning after I — greatly daring — had been the
principal speaker at the Union in a debate on the need for the
old Sporting League, and he recalled the Cardinal episode in
every detail, together with many other experiences of my day
which it is needless to mention. He no longer had the Randolph
stables ; " John,"- his head man, was dead, but he himself was
as genial and bright as ever. He died a few years later, and I am

ANGRAM 181

gratified to think that he left me a very excellent engraving of
the famous mare, Parasol, for it seems to prove that — however
unworthily — I had struck a sympathetic chord with a good
sportsman even in early and often foolish days.

Some little time after the above extract was published
in The Sportsman, Mr C. S. Newton was good enough to
write me a letter on the subject, and this I also published
in The Sportsman, with further details of my own :

MORE MEMORIES

(By the Special Commissioner)

Friday,
THE OTHER DAY

I wrote the other day about the death of the late Mr W. H. P.
Jenkins, and mentioned a horse which I had in those times, and
I have received the following letter, which, I need hardly say,
I have read with the greatest possible interest, and I am sure it
will be of equal interest to many of my readers. The horse in
question was originally named Angram, from the name of the
farm near Coxwold, in North Yorkshire, where he was bred
and reared, but when I bought him for Mr Lindsay Smith, the
now well-known banker, he renamed him the Cardinal. I said
in my recent article on the subject that Mr C. S. Newton would
be able to correct me if my memory went astray when I stated
that it was he who wanted to buy the horse from Lindsay Smith
after his first race, and it will be seen from his letter that I made
no mistake, though the incidents referred to are some forty-five
years old :

MYRTLE GROVE, PATCHING,
WORTHING,
Dec. 2, 1917.

DEAR SIR, — " Angram/' the story of a wasted horse, as far as
my memory carries me. It seems as if it were only yesterday
that I went to Lindsay Smith's rooms in Balliol to try to buy
Cardinal, and I remember meeting you there, when I was very
anxious to buy. I'm not quite certain, to use Harry Custance's
expression, that you didn't " queer the pitch." I rode in Cardinal's
last race. Close home three or four of us were within hail, but I
thought we should never catch the leader, when down he went
at a very boggy ditch, with fence on the landing side. I don't at
the moment remember what I rode or who won, but there is
always a picture of Cardinal in my mind. Had I been lucky

i8z " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

enough to purchase the horse he would not have run, as I had a
good mount, and he would have run in the National Hunt 'Chase,
'-' owner up.'J

Angram, by your pen, is at Oakham among Silks and
Scarlets and other refreshing books of sport. The names of
horses and riders I wrote on the front page shortly after the book
was published. The bookstall at York was responsible for my
purchase.

Jenks was an example for good to the undergraduate — rowed
in his college Eight, the best in England at his weight with the
gloves, preferred riding a raw four-year-old, if it happened to be a
farmer's, to anything else, and ready to do a good turn to anyone.
Out with the Bicester one day, we had run over four or five fences,
and were standing in the road while hounds were being cast.
Jenks arrived covered with samples of the various fields. " How
did he carry you ? " asked the proud owner. " Oh, well, damned
well. He's a good horse ; he only put me down four times ! "-
Lord Harris, "Mr G. Sirrah" rode the winner of one of those
" grinds," and was, I think, second on a very good mare in
Cardinal's race.

Young Charlie Symonds, as we used to call him, put me up
on the Bittern, a bay gelding by Pontiff, in the Merton Open
Chase, one of those years — a lovely ride. The horse won, Jenks
on Vigilant being second. I have a whip commemorating the
event ; it was an event, too ! Fancy beating Jenks ! I was
almost terrified. Charlie Symonds shortly after won the Aylesbury
Open Farmers' Race on the horse, and sold him to Angus, Duke
of Hamilton. We got The Sportsman to-day. It doesn't always
come owing to P.O. delays. I'm glad it did come, as your Notes
have recalled pleasant days when one's greatest anxiety was —
no, not the schools — whether anyone would give one a ride in any
race on anything, or if one's hunter could do his three days a
fortnight, and possibly one day between the shafts. Strikes at
Coventry have for five minutes, and possibly longer, been obliter-
ated. The sun has shone once more, but for too short a time.

Yours truly,

C. S. NEWTON.

P.S. — I wrote the above really to you, but, should you publish
it, do what Mr Sponge did for Jack Spraggon when he put pen
to paper describing Mr Puffington's great run. — C. S. N.

I am sure there is no need for me to edit Mr Newton's letter,
for I could not improve it any more than Mr Sponge did Jack
Spraggon's account of the run. Fortunately this letter will go
before an editor with more understanding as to its contents than

ANGRAM'S LAST JUMP 183

did the Jack Spraggon report, and it will doubtless be printed
just as it is written. The Cardinal (late Angram) was by Pontifex
(brother of Surplice) out of a mare with many crosses of blood.
He was bred by the late John Coates, of Angram Hall, near
Coxwold, and as a five-year-old was ridden to hounds several
times by my sister. He was only six when his fatal accident in
the Christ Church " grind " occurred, and from the form he had
shown and was then showing it is practically certain that he had
the makings of a very great horse indeed. Mr Newton does not
remember who won that last race, but I do very well. It was
Merlin, and a good one he was. From where I was, on a hack,
in the winning field, you could not see the last fence but one, or
about fifty yards on either side of it. I watched our horse go
out of sight, striding away with a long lead, and then waited for
him to reappear, but he never did, and at last there came Merlin,
who had been going second, and then, of course, I knew, and rode
off post haste to the fatal spot, where was Lindsay Smith standing
by his horse and the usual gaping crowd around him. A vet
turned up and soon diagnosed a broken back, so that ended it.

Of Merlin it may be remembered that he ran third to
Reugny and Chimney Sweep, for the Grand National of
1874, Defence being fourth, with Disturbance, Congress
and Casse Tete unplaced.

I even wrote a book called Angram, or Hidden Talent,
as Mr Newton states, and it ends thus :

Almost all the facts of this narrative are literally true, and will
be well remembered by many of the actors in the scenes described.
The name of the Cardinal will long be spoken of with admiration
and regret, even as the poet who launched out into verse on his
untimely end, concluded :

And let me give him still his due,
Now he has broken life's short tether ;
A better horse I seldom knew,
A kinder ne'er was lapped in leather.

It was certainly a very grievous downfall to our bright
hopes, and in the despondency of the next week or two
we felt more than half inclined to read seriously for
Mods., but that feeling passed very soon.

Follies of the old irresponsible sort once more became

i84 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

prevalent, and here is a letter, written not long after the
death of the Cardinal, but undated :

We are gated at present for disorderly conduct at a supper in
FitzRoy's room one night last week Fortunately they were not
able to bring home to us all that was done, otherwise we should
have been sent down. We got into the principal lecture-room
at about one o'clock, took the desk away, locked it up in a coal
cellar and threw away the key . We then locked one of the lecture-
room doors, leaving the key in the inside, and barricaded the other
with tables, etc., so that it could not possibly be opened. We
then escaped out of the window which shut in the inside with
a catch ; and when the old man came to lecture next morning,
it was absolutely impossible to get in. He had to go away, vowing
vengeance, and the result was the window had to be broken in.
However, notwithstanding our gatement we went to dine with
the officers of the Scots Greys, who were going through here, and
got in quite safely about n o'clock, over Trinity wall. So are
the Dons scored off all round.

To the best of my recollection the occasion of the above
foolishness was my coming of age. Hozier's uncle was
then Colonel of the Scots Greys, and that was how we
came to dine with them. The getting in over Trinity
wall was by that tune a very simple matter, for some time
before we had annexed a ladder which some painters had
left against one of the lamp-posts in the quad, and this
was carried down and secreted in the cellar where the
Bacchanalian picture had been found. In the far corner
of the quad there is a wall between Balliol and Trinity,
hidden from sight by shrubs and trees. It had glass
bottles on the top of it, but that did not matter when we
had the assistance of that ladder. The practice was to
arrange with someone remaining in college to put the
ladder over Trinity wall to be ready for such of us as were
coming in late.

It was a sort of back entrance to Trinity that we used
to go down to get to the ladder, and it was easy, of course,
to climb by it on to the wall, then pull it up and put it
down on the Balliol side. This method of going in and
out was never discovered, but since the new hall has been

PRINCE CHARLIE AND "MODS." 185

built on that side of the quad the old facilities have
probably been interfered with.

Meanwhile there had been the delight of knowing that
Prince Charlie had beaten Cremorne for the 2000 Guineas
— a wonderful performance for a roarer, which, by that
time, he was well known to be. People became quite
infatuated about him, and, setting all precedent at defiance,
believed that he would even succeed in staying the Derby
course. Needless to say, I was one of the infatuated,
and it is disclosed in the Prologue how I left the Latin
Verse paper in the Mods. Examination to go out and see
if Prince Charlie had won the Derby. The disappoint-
ment of finding that he was unplaced, coupled with the
knowledge that I had quitted my best paper and could
not return to do it, was depressing in the extreme, and it
resulted in my getting a Second instead of a First, which
was a really silly thing to have done. The Derby was
the only race for which Prince Charlie was unplaced during
four seasons on the turf. He was never beaten but once
over a mile or less : he won twenty-five races and lost
only four, so that his career soon blazed into glory again,
but at the time of his Derby I felt very sad.

I had one curious stroke of luck in that Mods, examina-
tion, for there was one of the Greek plays, the Philoctetes,
which I had never looked at until just before going in to
do the paper. I took a sudden fancy to open the book
and read the first ten or twelve lines of that play that
might catch my eye. I did so and read a part of a Chorus
carefully, with Paley's notes. It seems almost incredible,
but that identical portion of the Philoctetes, and that
only, was given in the examination paper, and, of course,
I dealt with it in fine style.

By this time I was entered at the Inner Temple and
going up to town from time to time to eat dinners there.
I always used to stay at the old Bedford Hotel in Co vent
Garden, and a rare good house it was, under the manage-
ment of Mrs Anne Warner. Those were the days of Evans's
supper-rooms, Paddy Green and perfect glee-singing.

186 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

Never were there such beautiful potatoes as waiters used
to squeeze out in a snowy shower on to your plate, and
the chops or kidneys were always perfect. It is not easy
to understand why Evans's ever came to an end, for no
other establishment has taken its place. However,
the National Sporting Club has made very excellent use
of the same building. The Bedford Hotel has been long
since pulled down.

That also was the period when the Vokes family did
such wonders at the Drury Lane pantomimes, and when
Adelaide Neilson, in such characters as Amy Robsart
and Rebecca of York, was drawing the town. Amid it
all, I had a fatal aptitude for believing that I could do
wonders whenever I wished and that there was no need
whatever to worry about work in the interim. No one
could ever make a greater mistake ; but those were very
happy days. Even the dinners at the Inner Temple were
not unpleasant.

CHAPTER XVIII

Vicars and the Syrup of Ginger — The Sacred Barge Pole — A Bread
Riot — The Master objects — I select the Jurisprudence
Schools — Dr Ryott supports my Choice — Dendy's Lectures —
Hunting from Chipping Norton — Stuart Wortley and the
Large Horse — C. C. Rhys and my Grey Mare — Silver-tongued
Tom Duffield — Entertainments in College — Slapp's Band —
Life out of College — Dudley Milner — Vixen, a Dog Story

THERE is no need to write much more about this
Oxford life, delightful as it was while it lasted. I
never gave up boating altogether, and throughout
each summer we were constantly going to Sandford and
elsewhere. Thus, in an 1871 letter :

We have been rowing and canoeing all last week from 2 to 7.30
P.M., long before which time Vicars had, of course, succumbed
to fatigue, and had to be put in a corner of the river and left till
we returned.

Vicars, it must be explained, though of gigantic height,
was very fragile and delicate, and it was through him
that I discovered how to brew punch that would do no
one any harm. Vicars, by advice of his doctor, used to
take syrup of ginger after every meal as an aid to diges-
tion ; and it happened in those days we used occasionally
to brew punch after n P.M. Now this beverage had a
disastrous effect on Vicars on each successive morning,
and it once occurred to me that syrup of ginger might
make it all right for him. The experiment was tried with
the most successful result, and to make sure there was
no mistake we changed about for several nights. Every
morning after punch with syrup of ginger in it he was
well, but without the syrup of ginger he felt like death.
It was a curious discovery, but I have found it work with
187

i88 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

equal success in every other case, and I have utilised it
on New Year's Eve ever since.

Dear old Vicars ! It is wonderful what rage would seize
on him if anyone in his rooms attempted to take hold of
what we called the barge pole — in other words, the pole
for closing up his windows — or if any other took up one
of the round tin covers which used to be brought up after
dinner with hot anchovy toast under them, and set the
tin rolling down his spiral staircase. These and similar
trifles used to lead to awful slaughter of ourselves, and it
was always honourably understood that no one should
dream of retaliating on Vicars, There is an account in
the book Angram* which sufficiently illustrates this :

Vicars had, as usual, been distinguishing himself. He had made
an attack on some visitors to his room by whom he imagined
himself affronted, and not content with the usual missiles dis-
charged at them as they ran downstairs, he seized bread from
off his table where they had been lunching, and pelted them
with it as they emerged into the quadrangle below.

There were many large pieces of this bread, so he was able to
discharge a goodly shower. The party below, finding that soda-
water bottles were not forthcoming, took heart of grace, picked
up the scattered bread and hurled it up again at Vicars in the
window.

He vigorously continued his fire till, ammunition failing him,
he actually cast down upon his foe the remnants of a leg of lamb,
being struck in the face at the same moment by adroitly aimed
bread, now mopped in mud from below.

Now there was a little window of the Master's House close by
Vicars', at right angles with it ; the two windows being in a
corner of the Quadrangle.

Vicars then, in awful wrath, and with mud-bespattered face,
was wildly looking round for some more dreadful bolt to project
against the mocking throng below, when his raging eye fell upon
the Master's window, and, struck as by paralysis, he saw the placid
face of the Master, a quiet spectator of the whole proceeding.

Vicars drew back into his room like one in a trance and
ruminated ; the battle raged no more.

In due course the Messenger arrived. . . . Vicars had to go

1 Sampson Bros., York.

FOLLIES OF SORTS 189

to the Master and naturally presented a somewhat sheepish
appearance.

"Mr Vicars, you really ought to have known better than to
act in such an unbecoming manner as I saw just now."

Vicars mumbled some kind of apologetic excuse.

"Of course, I don't regard it as any very serious offence, but
it must not occur again. Life would be unsupportable if everyone
took to throwing bread about in this manner. Take care you don't
give me reason to complain again. I will not detain you any
longer."

And that ended it ; but let no one think that in these
combats with Vicars there was ever a spark of ill-feeling.
It was all mere sport, and he, after the first rush of rage,
enjoyed it as much as anyone else. It even happened in
later life, when we were or should have been sedate, that
Warner and I were staying with Vicars and his mother in
the country. It was just after luncheon, and Vicars had
gone out to attend to some message when I saw a barge
pole of the old sort near the windows. We wondered if
he would attack us if we took hold of it, and decided to
try as soon as he came in. The result was equal to our
most sanguine expectations, for he at once went for us
and we fled, as in the old days, into the hall and up the
staircase, meeting old Mrs Vicars coming down. He was
close behind us, with vengeful countenance, and the good
lady was fairly amazed. " Edward ! Edward ! ! " she
said, " what is the meaning of this ? "

It remained only for me to say : " Oh ! it's all right,
Mrs Vicars, we often make fools of ourselves in this way "
— and so the incident terminated. This, mind you,
was when I was married, and Warner was a Fellow of
Christ Church.

The rest of the Oxford time may as well be dealt with
more briefly, for it was the old story that when once the
pressure of the final schools in Litera Humaniores came
on, and the Balliol authorities took to giving one books
to read in the vacation as a condition of further residence,
I played my old Dcus ex machind, Dr Ryott, on them by
getting him to certify that I had been suffering from

190 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

congestion of the brain and was not fit for any such trying
work. The History or Jurisprudence Schools were, in
his opinion, the limit of what I could go in for without
most serious risk. The good Doctor had not the faintest
idea about any distinction between the various schools, and
there was absolutely nothing the matter with me, but
he certified unhesitatingly in the sense above indicated,
and so it happened that I cleared myself of the tuition of
the Balliol dons, and took up Jurisprudence under the
auspices of Mr Dendy of University College, who used
to lecture on a hunting morning with trousers over his
breeches and boots, so as to lose no time in getting away
afterwards.

I dearly liked him, though I have never met him since I
left Oxford, and as a lecturer he was perfection, for he
stammered a good deal and you could take down all he
said without any trouble.

It was the hunting that made me hold to him and
determine to do him credit.

There had been various horses of mine at the Randolph
stables in these later days, one an extraordinarily good
little grey mare by Yorkshire Grey, who had most horrible
tricks for putting you off if you were riding alone. She
had been turned out on a Yorkshire moor and had learned
how to get rid of boys who used to scramble on to her.
Thus she would stop short, whip round and buck two or
three times sideways, when least expected, but if she had
company there was no trouble. Lindsay Smith once
rode her with the Christ Church drag and cleaned them all
out very easily. She was too light for me, however, and
I changed her for one of the very best, named Skittles,
which Bob Colling (the elder) sent me. She was supposed
to be a Cleveland bay mare but she must surely have had
a cross of blood in her. At any rate, no day was too
long for her, and as a timber jumper she was quite one of
the best. She would never spread herself over fences,
but was extraordinarily clever in kicking off from banks
on the other side, and foi stamina and endurance there

HUNTING UNDER DIFFICULTIES 191

never was a better. I exchanged her with my sister, later
on, for a horse called Longbow, by Launcelot (brother to
Touchstone) and I suppose this was the best hunter I
ever owned, though he was a shocking bad hack.

Time had slipped along, and here is a letter, written
26th March 1874 :

I am going to send the horse home the day after to-morrow,
as hunting here is about over, and he has had a pretty hard season.

We went off a long way by train to Chipping Norton yesterday,
and also induced Wortley to go, for whom we procured a very
large horse.

It was the most fearful place when we got there. We had to
wait from 9 o'clock till 12, and there was only one village near
the station, and that provided with the worst-looking inn you
ever saw — only accommodation for one horse, and nothing but
two old women.

We found a vacant stable of very fearful description across the
way ; and we also found some oats. Of course, we had no
assistance of any kind ; and then the only thing we could procure
for breakfast was the very fattest of bacon with the skin on ;
bread but no butter.

The people at the station had had no idea about horse-boxes,
and so we had to get the horses out all by ourselves and manage
the opening of the box and everything.

Then thinking we would by no means return again to the
horrid inn, we set off once more to the station and conveyed all
the clothing and things in front of us. Having located it in the
horse-box we proceeded to hunt and, of course, had a very moderate
day, over several large stone walls which men seemed to think
nothing of.

They jumped one very high one right down a great drop into
the road — such a drop that they went out of sight — it is needless
to say that we refrained from doing so.

Smith cut his horse's knees on a wall, and then we returned to
the station and had to clothe our horses once more, and get
them into the box, which was managed quite successfully.

I suppose it is well to be able to do these things, but it is not
pleasing.

No doubt the above experience of doing things for
yourself was salutary, whether pleasing or not. I think
it was the only time Stuart Wortley ever went hunting
with Lindsay Smith and myself.

192 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

As to the grey mare above referred to, I have before
me a copy of Minor a Carmina, by C. C. R., published in
1887, and poor Rhys sent it to me with the following
inscription : —

In memory of Balliol days,
Dear Allison, I send these lays ;
And would the pace they speed away
Were good as of thy gallant grey !

C. C. RHYS.

" The Pote " did his hunting in great style while at
Oxford. I remember seeing him out with two horses
with the South Oxfordshire, and rating his second horse-
man soundly for not being there at the opportune moment.
I cannot claim to have ever touched a point of eminence
such as that in those happy days, but suffice it that I saw
sport indeed with all the surrounding packs, and notably
with Tom Duffield and the old Berkshire. I remember
that by no means silver-tongued M.F.H. getting through
three horses in one run, and the third galloped into a
brook with him. He lay on the bank with his legs in
the air to run the water out of his boots, and though he
may have wished to utter more strenuously the thoughts
that arose in him, his utterances, such as they were, could
scarcely have been more forcible. Many good days we
had with Mr Hall and the Heythrop. Lord Valentia was
just coming to the fore at that time, and whether we rode
well or ill, this much I can say, that we had glorious and
unforgettable times.

Before the end of 1872 I had got in a way of entertaining
married friends to dinner in my rooms. There was a
good piano and Edwards, the scout, was capable enough,
but it must have been somewhat weird entertainment.

In a letter written in November of that year I speak
of having first dined with one of these couples at the
Randolph :

I played billiards with him last night for a long time — so long
that we found it was past one o'clock, and I ought to have been

" SLAPP'S " BAND 193

in at 12. Consequently I am "gated" for a week. [This was
before the discovery of the ladder and Trinity wall.] He has been
sitting with me a long time this morning drinking beer. We ride
every afternoon : I found a very nice lady's horse of Master
Charles's, and of course they think it is mine.

I managed my dinner far better than I could have hoped —
it was really well done — and the scouts made very few mistakes.
I had a string band playing the most choice selection of music
outside in the street all the time. I am going to repeat the
performance to-night.

You perhaps do not know that I have a piano this term. They
leave here on Thursday.

I expect I shall not be able to invest the timber money.

The string band referred to was Slapp's Band, which
all my contemporaries must remember. Once when
returning hi the small hours from a dance where they had
been engaged, they favoured me with an impromptu
serenade in front of my windows. It was the John Peel
Galop, and I don't think I have ever been so pleased to be
" waked from my bed " as I was on that occasion.

Now as to the second dinner referred to in the above
letter, I find one dated 28th November 1872 :

I have just returned from seeing Mr and Mrs off at the

station. We have had a very good time of it since they came.
I managed my second dinner everr with more success than the
first. The band outside carried it off with great eclat. Last
night I dined with them at 4.30, for I am "gated " and obliged
to be in before 6 P.M., and they spent the evening with me
afterwards.

It may be gathered from the above, which is but a
sample of what was going on, that life at Oxford was not
being taken very seriously by me. Moreover, the allusion
to not investing the timber money is suggestive. I had
realised a fair sum by cutting down timber, and I suppose
I must have spent the money, but after all, what does it
matter now ?

There came the time, at the end of our third year, when
we lived out of college, at 77 George Street, and very
comfortable it was, with a well-instructed boy to valet

194 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

us all, and dinners which I shall always remember : for
rolled ribs of beef constituted a frequent dish, and the name,
" Shapeless Beef " was given to it. In those days Dudley
Milner, younger brother of Sir Frederick Milner, used often
to come and see us. There was no better judge of racing
form, and he was very friendly with Captain Machell.
It was he who invented the phrase of betting " till the
cows come home." He was very short-sighted and never
provided himself with adequate glasses, so that when he
referred to books of form he had to get his eyes and the
book into close proximity. There must be many still
alive who remember him well, for he was a genuine en-
thusiast in regard to bloodstock.

I believe that he once rendered the late Lord Gerard
such good services that he was offered his choice of any
horse in the stable, and he chose Macaroon, by Macaroni,
out of Margery Daw. This came very near to being
a successful choice, as Macaroon ran second for the
Cesare witch.

In connection with 77 George Street, I shall always
remember a fox-terrier bitch of mine, named Vixen, who
was sent up in a hamper from Yorkshire. She arrived
about midday, and was only let out for a few minutes in
the courtyard ; after which she came up while we had
lunch. I was going riding, and some of the others were
going to walk with their dogs into the country. They
took Vixen with the rest, and when I got back I found
them much upset because when they had got about six
miles out of Oxford she had taken a fit, and on recovering
had run away from them — as dogs will, in such circum-
stances, unless you give them time to collect their senses.
They had run after her, and finally lost her altogether. I
was very sorry, for I was fond of Vixen, but could not, of
course, blame anybody, unless it was myself for letting
her go out with strangers. That she was gone for ever
I made no doubt. Next morning, however, when the boy
came with my tea, Vixen ran into my room and jumped
on to the bed.

VIXEN— A DOG STORY 195

She had not only found her way back to 77 George
Street, which was in itself an amazing feat, but she had
come to my room, where she had never been before —
and there were about a dozen others — and was found
sitting outside it. Dog stories are apt to be disbelieved,
but this, at any rate, is a true one ; and the more it is
thought of the more marvellous it seems.

CHAPTER XIX

Joseph Rawlinson Battersby — His Rules — How the York and
Ainsty Men received them — Langar and Ernest Willoughby
— Diffidence of the Bedale Men — John Booth and his Horses
— The Great Run from Baldersby Whin to Newton House —
A Red-letter Day indeed — Longbow on the Swale Embank-
ment— All's Well — More about Battersby

IT was in the Christmas vacation of 1873 that I hit
upon the idea of " Joseph Rawlinson Battersby,"
and prepared the following circular, which was sent
out to all the York and Ainsty and Bedale men : —

Mr JOSEPH RAWLINSON BATTERSBY begs to announce that he
is making his annual tour through the hunting counties for the
purpose of collecting a stud of horses to be located for the re-
mainder of the present season at York.

In offering a copy of the rules to be observed by his patrons,
Mr B. wishes to assure all that no insult is intended ; he feels
confident that they will see he is actuated by a sincere desire to
promote their welfare.

They will doubtless be aware that the value of any horse is
doubled after it has been ridden by J. R. B. Mr B. makes it
his object to observe, in a day's hunting, such persons as are
possessed of good but mismanaged horses. He feels it the
triumph of his skill to reclaim and sell at large prices animals that,
from want of efficient horsemanship, have become well-nigh ruined.

That Mr B. can do this, if any man can, is certain ; and those
who doubt it are referred to Mr Arthur Yates, the cleverness of
whose horses is so frequently spoken of in the sporting papers
(all his steeplechasers are made by Mr B.).

Mr Ernest Willoughby, it is not generally known, entrusted
Langar for five weeks to Mr B. Further references can be given
if required.

In anticipation of considerable patronage Mr B. has engaged
a number of commodious boxes at York, and will have the horses
under personal supervision. For the next week his address will
be at Yarm, afterwards Sea win's Hotel, York.

I96

BATTERSBY AND THE YORK AND AINSTY 197

RULES

To be observed by gentlemen entrusting their horses to Mr Battersby

1. That all horses must stand at the expense of their owners.

2. All horses must be in York before ist February.

3. Each horse to be accompanied by a groom.

4. Each owner must name the lowest price at which he will
sell his horse. If Mr B. can obtain a larger sum he will retain the
surplus.

5. Five per cent, on the price mentioned will be deducted as
commission, in case of a sale, and will be charged if the horse is
not sold.

6. All expenses are to be paid before the horses are returned.

7. Mr Battersby will be responsible for no damage.

8. Mr Battersby 's hotel and other expenses will be fairly divided
among his subscribers.

9. Mr B. can permit no interference ; the horses must be entirely
given up to him ; and no owner will be; under any circumstances,
allowed to even mount his horse until Mr B. declares the education
complete.

T. K. WHITELY, Printer, Darlington.

I wrote the story of what followed on this in the book,
Blair Athol,1 published a few years afterwards, and it
there appears that the circulars were dispatched to the
York and Ainsty men a day before there was a meet at
Thirkleby Park. I myself went there in mufti, on old
Cobweb, whom no one would suspect of carrying Joseph
Rawlinson Battersby.

There was a large meet, and among those present was
Mr Willoughby himself, who was audaciously referred to
in the circular. He had a week or two earlier won a
point-to-point steeplechase on his horse, Langar, whom he
bought from the Rev. Cecil Legard, and it was for this
reason Battersby pointed to that special animal as the
one he had schooled, for the name was at the time very
familiar to all the hunting men.

As I moved about, exchanging greetings here and there,
with friends, there was but one word that struck on my
ears from every group that I passed by — that was
1 George Routledge & Sons Ltd.

198 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

" Battersby." Discussion on that topic was universal, and
abounded chiefly in the neighbourhood of the unfortunate
Willoughby, who came in for a constant fire of questions
on the subject.

There was something absolutely delicious in ah1 this —
at least, so I thought — and I entered with zest into the
various conversations. Very difficult, however, was it to
avoid bursting into fits of laughter now and again, so
exquisite was the irony of the situation.

Here, for instance, was a gallant captain of the
gth Lancers who, as his horse bucked with unexpected
vigour over a small fence, showed very much daylight.
" Hullo, there," cried a friend, " Joseph Rawlinson
Battersby will soon be having his eye on you ! "

" Yes, indeed," I thought, " he is much nearer than you
imagine."

" I say, Willoughby," asked Sir George Wombwell,
riding up to that gentleman for the first time that morning.
" Who is this Rawlinson Battersby ? You know him, I
see. Upon my word I half thought the thing was a hoax :
but after all, it seems genuine enough. Who is he ? "

Mr Willoughby for the twentieth time indignantly
repudiated the alleged mentor of Langar : but the im-
pression appeared to prevail that Battersby had let out
a secret which the owner of the horse did not wish to be
known. He had hitherto had all the credit connected with
Langar and his performances to himself : small wonder
then that he did not like these facts being disclosed.

" Take care, my horse kicks," cried someone. " Send
him to Battersby," was the immediate response from
several voices.

" I really think I will : he can't make him worse, and
he may make him better."

" I will give him this mare," said another gallant
captain, " if he can make her jump water."

And so the amusement went on throughout the day,
no one seeming to doubt for a moment that Battersby
is an actual being destined soon to be among them.

BATTERSBY AND THE BEDALE 199

Such a story loses greatly in the telling, and must
necessarily depend much on the imagination of the reader.
Let anyone, however, endeavour to put himself in my
position that day and he will realise, according to his
capacities, what a " merry conceit " the whole affair was,
not that the sport was by any means over yet : for the
Bedale men remained, and to them the circular was
dispatched the day before a meet at Skipton Bridge.

Of course I went, riding Longbow this time, but my
expectation of hearing much talk about Battersby was
disappointed, and therein the difference between the
gentlemen of the Bedale and those of the York and Ainsty
was very notable.

Exceedingly cautious were they of the Bedale in those
days, whatever they may be now : indeed, when it came
to a really good thing, John Booth, the Master, could show
them all a clean pair of heels, despite the fact of his riding
eighteen stone. But then his heart was in the right place :
he knew every inch of the country, and his horses, besides
being grand animals, were preternaturally clever, for which,
of course, the credit was due to him who " made " them.
In short, the Master was in strong contrast to the members
of his Hunt, with a few honouiable exceptions.

Now these gentlemen, having received their circulars,
had taken them to heart. Each one was inwardly con-
scious of his own inferior horsemanship, and therefore
thought that he, and he specially, had been singled out by
the observant eye of Battersby. In these circumstances,
no man communicated to his fellow what had happened.
Each brooded darkly over his own circular and kept it
concealed from mortal ken, deeply pondering where, when
and how Battersby had spotted him, or whether it was
simply common fame that had reported him to that
accomplished person as being one likely to stand in need
of his services. Moreover, there was not much time for
discussion, for Baldersby Whin was always a sure find,
and this occasion proved no exception.

Within a few minutes, hounds were away after a good

200 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

fox on the far side of the Whin, and we all had to hustle
along round the bottom corner to get to them as quickly
as might be. It was soon found that they were racing
away in glorious style.

" They're going now, sir, aren't they ? " called out
Thatcher, the huntsman, to me. I remember him very
well, as also Tom Carr his predecessor. Both were rare
good men.

The country was not very formidable, but the Master
was a good field ahead and would need a lot of catching.
There was no sign of the pace abating : it was simply
astonishing, and already there was very long tail to the
field, not caused as usual by obstacles, but simply by
want of sufficient speed. Before we had gone ten minutes
there were but thirteen or fourteen within hail. I was
there, for Longbow could gallop a bit and had run second
in one of the college " grinds " that year, but the Master
still showed the way, his horse having an extraordinary
turn of speed for such a heavy one.

The line was now over the grassland along the side of
the River Swale. It was capital going, but a trifle heavy,
as it lies low and has to be fenced off from the river by a
high embankment. Hounds were now stretching away,
sterns down and nearly mute. The Master seemed to be
coming back to his field at last, but it was really because
he was in momentary doubt about his line. Suddenly I
saw him diverge at right angles and gallop away as hard
as he could in the direction of the Swale embankment.

That he had good and sufficient reason for doing this
I did not for a moment doubt, so followed him at once.
One of the Whips followed me, but Thatcher and all the
rest of the field went straight on after hounds.

The Master gained the top of the Swale embankment,
which is not over five feet wide there, but gets gradually
broader towards its base, and he cantered gaily along this
eminence fully fifteen feet above the level of the sub-
jacent ground. I and the Whip pursued, scarce knowing
what to think, but on reaching the top I saw, with some

HUNTING CERTIFICATE.

rrjnlarly m'l* my //«,

LONGBOW

JOHN BOOTH, M.F.H. 201

apprehension, double posts and rails, very stiff too, looming
in front, and the Master was just going for them. His
big horse, clever as a cat, nipped in and out with the
greatest safety.

I looked wistfully at the hedge which ran down into the
field below, to see if by any chance it was more easily
negotiable, but it was an ancient and absolutely impervious
bullfinch. These rails, with a fifteen-feet roll down one
side or the other, if you fell, were the only possible place
of egress. So I had just to trust to Providence — for
Longbow was not an accomplished jumper of cramped
places — I cantered quietly up to the objectionable object,
and the result was all right : not what one might call a
" fluent " performance, as there was a stop short, a bounce
up and down, a stop and another bounce : then the other
side, and a descent of the embankment after the Master,
who was bustling along more eagerly than ever. A glance
back to see the Whip safely over? and then away.

In a few moments \ve saw hounds once more and were
soon with them : but the field was nowhere visible, nor
were they ever visible so long as we three were within sight
of those rails on the embankment.

It turned out they had all been hopelessly pounded, as
the Master well knew they would be.

The big weight-carrier still forced the pace, and my good
horse could not gain an inch on him. The Whip was now
dropping astern. On we went. What a lathering and
soaping of reins there was ! There was also that awkward
feeling of having nothing to spare at the fences, and I
even began to think I should have to finish the run on
foot as Longbow pecked badly on, landing over a small
stake and bound. What a man that John Booth was !

Newton House was not far off now, and surely to
goodness this could not last much longer. Ha ! The
Master had viewed him and was cramming forward with a
final spurt. " Yonder he goes ! " I, too, saw him plodding
along dead beat, only a field in front of hounds : he dis-
appeared through a hedge ; now hounds were after him ;

202 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

had they run into him ? No ; they were at fault, and were
spreading to cast themselves in that very field into which
we viewed the fox only a few moments ago. Had he lain
down in a ditch and been overrun ? No, it was not so ;
and, strange though it may appear, nothing more was ever
made out of that fox. That he had crept off somewhere
and was lying helpless with exhaustion is practically
certain ; but where could not be discovered, though it
must have been close at hand.

" At any rate," said the Master, wiping his brow, " we've
had one of the best gallops I ever remember." Then
pulling out his watch : " Thirty-seven minutes, and from
Baldersby Whin to Newton House is over seven miles.
That's fast enough in all conscience."

The facts of this run, as given here, are recorded in
Blair Athol, and I may add that John Booth, having read
the book, corroborated the account in every detail. I rode
Longbow in many another run with the Bedale, and his
portrait with John Booth's certificate appears in this
work, but that run from Baldersby Whin to Newton House
was the best of all, and it was through no merit of my own
that I was in it, except indeed that I had the sense to
follow John Booth.

The sequel to the Joseph Rawlinson Battersby affair
was that the " Van Driver " of Baily's Magazine took it
up seriously and criticised the circular with ponderous
sarcasm, printing several of the rules in italics — " The
italics are our own," said the "Van Driver." He also
said, with bitter irony : " Mr Battersby is going into
Yorkshire, a country where people are notoriously in-
competent to manage horses : so we wish him the success
he deserves."

Especially, however, was he moved by the reference to
Mr Arthur Yates and Mr Ernest Willoughby.

" Unfortunate Mr Battersby ! " wrote he, " what in-
duced you to put such an awful crammer upon paper ?
We have been at some trouble to investigate the matter,
and would our readers believe it ?— Mr Arthur Yates

BATTERSBY PERSISTS 203

and Mr Ernest Willoughby never even heard of Mr
Battersby ! "

The solemnity with which these strictures of Baily's
were given was perhaps one of the best points of the whole
performance, which was wound up by the following
supplementary circular : —

Mr JOSEPH RAWLINSON BATTERSBV regrets to say that,
owing to domestic affliction, he has been prevented from coming
to York as announced by him.

For the above reason he did not go to Yarm, and he fears that,
in the cares and anxieties to which he has been subjected, he may
have suffered some of his letters addressed there to be returned
to the writers.

He has heard that Mr Arthur Yates and Mr Ernest Willoughby
deny all knowledge of him. So be it : The infant, budding into
adolescence, shakes off the hand that has guided its hitherto
tottering steps ; and it is thus that they, mounted on their now
perfect horses, repudiate J. R. B.

Were he so disposed, proof would not be wanting ; such proof
he scorns to give.

A time will come when Yorkshire gentlemen will see him flitting,
meteor -like, through the fastest run, and gazing from afar, they
will confess that his own intrinsic merit is a recommendation all-
sufficient for Joseph Rawlinson Battersby.
A. P. HARDCASTLE, Printer, Cheltenham.

These circulars were posted in Cheltenham and created
additional sensation. That they persisted as against
Mr Willoughby and Mr Arthur Yates was the most re-
markable part of them, and the friends of those gentlemen
more than half believed the impeachment.

It was long before it became known that Battersby
was not genuine business, and then the late Major Fife
Cookson, who at the time was a cavalry subaltern,
stationed at York, was charged with being the author of
the circulars. He did not deny the impeachment very
strenuously, and for many years he had the reputation of
having perpetrated this jest ; but it was I who write who
did it, and even carried it further at one period by challeng-
ing Galvayne to a public match at horse-breaking and
taming. This challenge was issued by letter in The

204 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Yorkshire Herald and signed " Joseph Rawlinson
Battersby." I have not a copy by me, but it was suffi-
ciently bombastic, and maybe Galvayne did not like it.

I feel desperately inclined to linger over experiences of
those early hunting days, especially over really glorious
runs with Jack Parker and the Sinnington, when the then
Lord Helmsley used to go like a pigeon, and his father,
Lord Feversham, was panic-stricken at the way in which
his son and heir rode. A run from Gilling Wood to Seamer
Wood is accurately described in Blair Athol, the names
of those concerned being only slightly disguised. There
let it remain, for I have not space to reproduce it here,
lovely experience though it was. I have got through more
than half this book — before I was twenty-three.

CHAPTER XX

The Distraction of Madame Angot — Patty Laverne — Final
Schools — The Class List — A Fellow of All Souls — Divinity
Examination — Late Degrees — Vicars and his Class List —
Sir Charles Dodsworth — King Lud's Race for the Alexandra
Plate — End of the Oxford Period — Why moralise about it ?

MOST of us remember early days better than the
later ones, and, be that as it may, I must begin
to cut short the last stages of the Oxford time —
that was the first two terms of 1874, when, partly because
I liked my tutor, Dendy, and partly because I had cut
adrift from the Balliol dons, I wished to make a final
flare-up in jurisprudence.

Thus it was that serious reading was done, but never
after n P.M. At that hour precisely the drinks would be
brought up, and even in the middle of a sentence books
would be closed — I write only of myself.

Justinian, Hallam, Austin, Grote and goodness knows
how many other authorities one dealt with : but Dendy's
lectures were a masterpiece, and a real bogey to all
examiners.

The Easter vacation came on, and some of us in 77 George
Street, being virtuously resolved to do our best, decided
to stay up and read, without going down at all. This was
our proposal, and we proceeded to carry it out, but it
should be explained that in my time theatrical perform-
ances were not allowed at Oxford, except, of course, in
vacation, when the sway of the proctors had ceased.

It happened that in this particular Easter vacation
Mrs Liston brought down a very good company to play
Madame Angot at the Old Vic., with Patty Laverne as
Clairette. We endured this for the first night, but heard
so much of the performance the following day that we
205

206 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

decided to take just one evening off and see the show,
which we did from a stage box.

Madame Angot has never been surpassed for attraction,
and that performance was a genuine delight to jaded
undergraduates, but when I caught sight of two or three
men from another college who were just in view behind
the wings, there came an immediate wish to outpoint
them. Early next morning, therefore, I wired to Mrs Anne
Warner, the Bedford Hotel, Covent Garden :

" Send hamper of choicest cut flowers and several good
bouquets to 77 George Street Oxford.

" ALLISON."

My good old friend of the Bedford Hotel acted splendidly
on this wire.

Before that evening's performance there were flowers
enough to deck the stage and the whole company, and I
know not how many bouquets — enough, at any rate, for
Mrs Listen and all the leading ladies.

Now let no mistake be made. This was done simply and
solely to knock out the audacious men who had managed
to get behind the scenes, and it most effectually did so.
For the rest, we had no thought of ill, and having made
friends with old Mrs Listen and the rest, we took them
about Oxford, showed them the colleges, and went to the
theatre every night while the show lasted. Patty Laverne
was a dear little woman, one of the best, and quite beyond
reproach. She was such a good Clairette, however, that
I, who became quite infatuated with Madame Angot,
went on to Bristol with the company when they left
Oxford — and that was after the last term had begun.
Again it was a case of attending the theatre and sending
in flowers every night, and I would not mention it here
had there been any trace of wrong in it. Patty Laverne
is dead now, but I fancy her Clairette must be a living
memory to all who ever saw it.

It may be that I returned with a heavy heart to Oxford,

PATTY LA VERNE 207

after that week at Bristol, but she gave me good advice
to do so ; and there was the gloomy prospect of final
schools to face. Women can make or mar us at most
times, but especially when we are young, and I was young
— as the world then was — and full of money. She found
out about the impending examination, and drove me back
to Oxford kindly but inexorably. Many years afterwards
I heard from Haddon Chambers, who knew her, that she
retained a happy recollection of me, as I shall always do
of her, both as a good woman and a thorough artist.

Well, there it was, I got back to Oxford and Juris-
prudence, after three weeks of absolutely novel life and
laxity. There was nothing for it but to redeem the time,
though the days had been anything but evil, and there
was always the wish to do credit to Dendy and fox-
hunting, as also to surprise the Balliol dons who were not
concerned in my preparation. To some extent the feeling
was the same as at Rugby, but I liked all the Balliol dons
well enough, and can truly say that, with very few excep-
tions, I intensely disliked the Rugby masters. Few people
can analyse their own motives, but I fancy my trouble has
always been that I was left my own master so early that
I play a lone hand unless someone in authority of a very
rare nature has got in sympathy with me, as Jex-Blake
did, or as Dendy did — in another sense. Well, after all,
it does not matter : but, curiously enough, Patty Laverne
helped, and I set about those last few weeks of Juris-
prudence with full determination that the thing should be
done.

The time was very short, however, and just at that
period was published the first volume of Stubbs's Con-
stitutional History.

It should be explained that the schools of History and
Law had only just been divided, and while Hallam's
Constitutional Law was a fitting text-book for us, Stubbs's
Constitutional History was, on the face of it, outside our
sphere.

But I had my doubts, and asked Mr Dendy if I should

208 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

read this volume. He knew well that I was working
at top pressure to get through the absolutely essential
books, and he said I need not trouble about Stubbs.
So the time went on, and having put in the highest possible
power in the last few weeks, save for a few days in town
to dinner at the Temple and go to Ascot, I was strung up
to dreadful concert pitch for that examination.

To my mind there is no earthly good in an examination,
except in so far as it shows what you can do in an
emergency.

There was no trouble whatever in any of the papers
save one, and that came second or third. It was entitled
" Constitutional History " — though we were to be
examined in constitutional Law ; and eight or nine
questions out of twelve were set straight out of Stubbs,
whose book I had never read.

That was indeed an awful situation, and several of my
friends, who were in the same case as myself, gave it up
in despair, but after spending ten minutes in that same
condition, I began to look at the questions, and realised
that I had some ideas of my own about them regardless
of Stubbs. Therefore I fell to, and wrote voluminously
all round about those questions, lugging in any special
item of knowledge likely to catch the fancy of an examiner,
and connecting it, however indirectly, with the subject
matter of the question. It is no use advising people about
how to pass examinations. I could always write fast
and readily, and, at whatever pace, my handwriting is
legible. That last point is half the battle with examiners.
On the other hand, my friend, the late C. A. Whitmore,
who was in for this same examination, wrote slowly and
with great precision. He marshalled his facts concisely
and, on the whole, covered about a quarter of the paper
that I did. Let every man do what suits him best. I
could not possibly have answered those questions in the
way that Whitmore did, and I am still more certain that
he could not have dashed into them in the way that I
did, but the result tells its own tale, and, in this con-

CLASS LIST 209

nection, I must needs quote a letter written to my sister
on nth July 1874 :

UNION CLUB, OXFORD.

I have no time to write much, except to inform you that the
deed is done, and the old men's wiles have been in vain, as you
will see on looking into the Class list in to-day's Times or
Standard.

And now it is permissible, I hope, to reproduce that
Class list here.

TRINITY TERM, 1874
IN JURISPRUDENT! A

CLASS I

Allison, W., Ball.
Eastwick, J., Trin.
Whitmore, C. A., Ball.

CLASS II

Coolidge, W. A. B., Exeter.
Hardy, G. H., Ch. Ch.
Maddison, F. B., Bras.
Robin, A. H., New.
Stuart Wortley, C. B., Ball.

CLASS in

Bellairs, H. L., Wore.
Deacon, E. A., Exeter.
Ferard, C. A., Trin.
Lawrence, J. R., Ch. Ch.
Trotter, E. B., Univ.
Vawdrey, D., Corpus.
Wilde, J. D., Bras.
Williams, J., Line.
Young, J. F., Bras.

CLASS IV

Cree, A. W., Exeter.
Lempriere, E. P., St J.
Whiteford, B., New.

Examiners. — J. Bryce, H. J. S. Maine, T. E. Holland.
O

210 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

There it is, and I look on the list even now with some
pleasure, recalling the time when Warner and two or three
other friends dashed into my room at 77 George Street,
brandishing my testamur, which they had somehow
secured, which stated in regard to my poor self : "In
Classem I., relegatus est " — I think that was how it ran,
but I have not a testamur by me to verify the reference,
and it is of no earthly consequence.

So that ended my Oxford show, much in the same way
that the career at Rugby had terminated, but I stayed
up for a week or two after the result was known and took
somewhat paltry pleasure in being congratulated by the
Balliol dons. They were not like the Rugby masters,
and I am sure now that they were quite pleased at what
I had done. Many years later the Master was good
enough to write about me :

BALLIOL COLLEGE,

Nov. \gtb, 1888.

Mr Allison was a Member of Balliol College about fifteen
years ago. He obtained a first-class in Jurisprudence. From
what I remember of him I should say with confidence that he
was a man of considerable ability, of gentlemanlike manners
and of good character.

B. JO\VETT,

Master of Balliol College.

That was pretty good, all things considered, but it
suggests somehow a falling off since the days at Rugby
with Jex-Blake, who wrote the following : —

ALVECHURCH,
November i^th, 1888.

Mr William Allison was a boy in my house at Rugby, 1865-1868,
highly gifted and entirely satisfactory. Others will speak of his
later years, but I should expect that his charming temper and
remarkable skill in composition distinguish him still. I believe
that at Oxford health stood in his way.

T. W. JEX-BLAKE.

I am writing a true story, or I would not quote those

LATER DAYS AT OXFORD 211

letters, which to me bring only regret for the " might-have-
been." I have already made it clear what the " health "
obstacle amounted to. Surely all the promise that ever was
in me in those days was but Dead Sea fruit, and yet there
were times when I thought there was no object of ambition
to which I could not readily attain — so fatally easy was it
to pass examinations after a few weeks of work !

That last week or ten days at Oxford was a happy tune,
with all the working wheels run down, and so many good
friends to entertain and be entertained by. I saw much
of John Doyle, and he strongly advised me to go in for a
Fellowship at All Souls, as there were three vacancies,
and I decided to follow his advice, for a Fellow of All
Souls is not as the Fellows of other colleges, and it would
have been very delightful to be in the same good fellow-
ship with Doyle himself. The thing was all but settled
when, alas ! a flaw was discovered in my qualifications.

To become a Fellow of All Souls you must have either
graduated with a First Class in Final Schools or have
passed all the necessary examinations for so graduating.

It was suddenly discovered that I had not passed my
Divinity examination, and that is, or was, essential before
taking your degree. There was no fixture for a Divinity
examination before the All Souls fellowships were to be
decided, and I, therefore, could not qualify in time.

In sheer annoyance at this, I left Oxford without going
in for Divinity at all, and it was not until two years later
that I came to a more sensible frame of mind and went
up for the simple purpose of passing Divinity, which was
an absurdly easy thing to do. Even so, however, so
neglectful was I of my own interests that I did not put
my gown on until twenty years later, when I brought off
the " double event " of B.A. and M.A., on one morning
in 1896. The Balliol porter was rather interested in that
occasion, and provided me with all the necessary gowns,
etc., and first of all it was pleasant in that year, 1896,
to put on a Cap and undergraduate's gown and walk
down High Street, causing a certain amount of mild

212 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

surprise — for who had ever seen an undergraduate of such
age ? The rest was a mere question of formula and quick
changing, the porter being outside with fresh robes ready
for each step of my ascent. There are fees, of course, to
be paid ; but otherwise the experience was quite a pleasant
one.

I ought not to rush so far ahead of the period with
which I have been dealing, but it is perhaps legitimate
to explain briefly how and when the finishing touch was
put on to my Oxford career. There is at least this advan-
tage derivable from the process, that I have a vote for the
Parliamentary representation of the University of Oxford,
and that is something to say in these days, when plural
voting is a thing of the past.

I cannot forbear to tell the story of poor old Vicars'
final Class list, though it was a sad disappointment to him.
He had stuck to Classical Greats — Liter a Humaniores —
and was supposed to have an outside chance of a First.
I happened to go with him into the Union as we were
coming up from boating, and there was the Class list on
view. H. H. Asquith was, of course, in the First Class,
but Vicars was not there. We looked through the Second
— in vain : and then we drew the Third blank. I could
see that Vicars was becoming wrathful, and as I glanced
at the fourth class and found his name placed in alphabeti-
cal order, at the very bottom, I turned and fled, for he
would, on the spur of the moment, have avenged himself
on me, for lack of any more blameworthy object. After
all, it should be remembered these classes constitute
Honours, and even the Fourth Class is entirely superior
to a Pass degree. In the Michaelmas term of 1874 Warner
got his First, all right, in Literce Humaniores, and Prothero
got a First in Modern History in 1875.

FitzRoy (Sir Almeric) had done the same in 1874, having
by that time mastered the knack of doing examinations.

One good friend at Balliol whom I have not mentioned
as yet, for he has been dead many years, was Sir Charles
Dodsworth, whose introduction to me was on the sands at

KING LUD 213

Redcar, where we were both digging when the guns were
fired at Hartlepool on the signing of the Treaty of Paris
after the Crimean War. I shall have a good and interesting
story to tell about Sir Charles Dodsworth presently. His
early death was a serious blow to north-country training
interests as his estate included a considerable part of the
Hambleton Gallops, and his brother, who succeeded to
the title, is not friendly to racing — at least, so I have
always understood.

I have written that I went to Ascot that year, 1874,
but I find, on reference, that I was there on the last day
only, for I did not see Boiard win the Cup, wkh Doncaster
and Flageolet dead-heating behind him, and Kaiser next,
in front of Gang Forward and Marie Stuart ; but I did
see King Lud beat Boiard for the Alexandra Plate the
following day, and that was a race never to be forgotten.
The stamina shown by King Lud when the Frenchman
was palpably outpacing him all the way from the turn
into the straight is unparalleled in my experience except
by that of Torpoint, who wore down Radium in similar
fashion for the same race not many year £3 ago. But
Boiard was an exceptionally great horse, and it was only
by a head that King Lud just did him. Custance in his
book suggests that Boiard's jockey, Carratt, was to blame
rather than the horse, but I did not see the race in that
light at all, and in any case nothing can rob King Lud
of the fame of that victory, which was due to his undying
courage and stamina. It is much to be regretted that he
did not establish a male line of descent, for he was by
King Tom out of Qui Vive (sister to Vedette).

Well, let me close this chapter and thus finish the
Oxford period, which can never be lacking in happy
memories, and yet rises up against me as having been
mainly conspicuous for wasted opportunities. It is
useless to moralise on the past, however, when the present
is still with us, and, even late in the day, may be perhaps
made good use of.

CHAPTER XXI

The Cobham Stud, 1874 — My First Visit — York and Doncaster —
Apology and Lily Agnes — Prince Charlie's Last Triumph —
Life in Town — In a Pleader's Chambers — Claremont wins
the 2000 Guineas — First Sight of Galopin — A Night at
Cremorne — Sir Charles Dodsworth determined to bet —
Great Result — I become a Director of the Cobham Stud —
The Purchase of Doncaster and Marie Stuart prevented by
a Solicitor — A London Season — Sandown Park

IN June, 1874, I made my first acquaintance with the
Cobham stud, where the Stud Company Limited
was in its early days, and apparently on the high road
to success. They had bought Blair Athol and all the best
of the old Middle Park stud's brood mares and foals two
years earlier, and the world seemed to be going very well
with the Company. I cannot ear-mark the exact date of
my visit to Cobham, but it must have been during a hasty
visit to town for the purpose of keeping my term at the
Inner Temple. Lindsay Smith went with me, and we went
on the Guildford coach as far as the White Lion at Cobham,
walking the rest of the way to the stud. The manager
was not at home, but we saw Mrs Bell, and under the
guidance of Joseph Griffiths, the stud groom, interviewed
Blair Athol, and all the famous mares, such as Margery
Daw, Madame Eglentine, etc., also the yearlings that were
soon coming up for sale. Among these I remember a
beautiful chestnut colt by Blair Athol, out of Alcestis, by
Touchstone, and another chestnut by the same sire out of
Circe, by Dundee. They made long prices at the sale, being
bought by Captain Machell, but neither did any good on
the turf. In fact, the yearlings of 1874 were (saving always
for the two cheap lots, Coronella and Bella, sold for 60
guineas and 40 guineas respectively) the worst that the

214

FIRST VISIT TO COBHAM 215

Stud Company ever disposed of, and the total they realised
was by far the lowest : but, even so, I had seen enough to
make me long to have a practical interest in this company,
and before we caught the coach on, its return journey
from Guildford I had resolved to secure shares in the
Stud Company Limited, if it were by any means possible.
Little did I know at that time how not merely possible
but easy it would be to secure any number of such shares
in the Company, whose nominal share capital was £100,000,
but whose principal cash supply had been provided by
Mr John Coupland (Master of the Quorn) on the security
of 10 per cent, debentures repayable in three years.

This visit to Cobham was but the initial episode, and
I did not act on it at that time, but the seed was germinat-
ing. Meanwhile came the finish at Oxford as recorded
in the last chapter, and a good time at home for the rest
of the year. My sister had by that tune married our
good friend, Tom Scott, and we three went to live at
Kilvington, where I built new and excellent kennels on
the plans recommended by Beckfoid.

Both Tom Scott and I were in considerable request
as judges of fox-terriers at dog shows about that tune,
and Mr Arrow»mith was also quite keen about terriers, of
whom he bred some first-class ones, notably Satire, by
Jester, winner in a class of 109 competitors at Nottingham,
with the Hon. Tom Fitzwilliam judging.

York August Meeting that year was a very interesting
one. Glenalmond (by Blair Athol out of Coimbra), who
had started favourite for the Derby, won the North of
England Biennial, two miles, very easily, and was again
fancied for the St Leger.

He was a beautiful, medium-sized bay colt, with all
the Kingston quality of his dam. The Prince of Wales
Stakes was won by Holy Friar, a chestnut colt who in
the opinion of Mr Chaplin was the best of all Hermit's
sons. Earl of Dartrey, who was, I think, the only un-
questionable son of the Earl, won a two-year-old Biennial,
and Trent, an exquisitely moulded little bay son of

216 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Broomielaw, beat Apology by a head for the great York-
shire Stakes. In those times this race used to have a
material bearing on the St Leger. Then, too, we saw
Lily Agnes, three years, beat Kaiser, four years, for the
York Cup. It was a great meeting.

Naturally we went to Doncaster and saw Apology win
the St Leger, after George Frederick had been scratched,
and she herself had been very nearly so, on account of
lameness. Lame or not, she reversed the York running
with Trent very decisively as he was third six and a
half lengths behind her. Glenalmond once more dis-
appointed, though he was backed at n to 2. Apology
was a chestnut mare with plenty of power and substance.
She ought to have become a successful matron, but for
some reason she did not, whereas Lily Agnes, who won
the Queen's Plate on that St Leger afternoon, beating
Lilian by three lengths, became, in process of time, the
dam of Ormonde and Ornament.

I do not wish to dilate here on this or any other ancient
racing season, but I may just mention that at the finish
of the Houghton Meeting of 1874, Prince Charlie gave
the Cambridgeshire winner Peut-ltre 12 Ib. over the Rowley
mile in a match for 500 sovereigns, and with odds of
2 to i on him, won in a canter, thus winding up his
glorious career on the turf. It was on the Tuesday that
Peut-etre had won the Cambridgeshire by two lengths,
starting second favourite and beating forty-one others.
The great match was not until the Saturday, so the
French colt had had ample time between the races. Such
a scene as followed on Prince Charlie's last triumph has
seldom been witnessed on Newmarket Heath.

The next stage, so far as I was concerned, was to take
up my quarters in town in 1875 and set about work for
a year in a Special Pleader's chambers. I found good
rooms on the ground floor of 24 St James's Place, and
Arthur Blackwood, whose father was one of the Dalgety
and Du Croz firm, had the first floor. A Mrs Jewell was
our landlady and, I think, her husband was employed at

CLAREMONT AND THE 2000 GUINEAS 217

the Conservative Club near by. We were very comfortable,
and I remained there until the end of my bachelor days.

The Special Pleader in whose chambers I did my year,
paying 100 guineas for that privilege, was the late Mr
Butterworth of the Inner Temple. It was before the
passing of the Judicature Act, so that we became adepts in
all the old forms of declarations and other curious plead-
ings. Stuart Wortley was in those chambers with me, and
so was Braxton Hicks, who later on became an eminent
coroner — in so far as a coroner can ever be eminent.
Brynmor Jones was also there, but I forget the others.
We had the use of all the necessary books, and whatever
work came in for Mr Buttenvorth to do we did it in the
first instance. Then he revised our drafts, made such
emendations as he thought fit, and so the thing was
settled, we profiting by noting what he had found necessary
to alter and how. It was rather interesting work, and by
no means arduous.

I paid my first visit to Newmarket that spring, 1875,
by going with Blackwood to see the 2000 Guineas run for,
and two points are so fixed in memory as a result of that
visit that I do not very clearly recall any general impres-
sion. One is that as I stood on the high ground on the
far side of the course and could see over the judge's box,
which* was then on that side, I saw Claremont win the
2000 Guineas by a clear length or more. He was by
himself, wide on the right-hand side of the course, while
the rest of the field were all bunched on the stands' side.
Claremont finished right under the judge's box, and must
have passed unnoticed, for he was not even placed,
whereas I, who saw him veiy clearly, and that in a bee-
line across the judge's box to the post, am quite sure
that he actually won, and that, too, very cleverly.

He had been a 2ooo-guinea yearling a: the first Cobham
sale, and as a son of Blair Athol and Coimbra he was
naturally a favourite of mine, but no such fancies led me
to think he had done more than I actually saw him do.
Later results demonstrated that I made no mistake.

218 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

The next salient point of that day was that I saw
Galopin for the first time. He was brought into the
paddock to accustom him, as far as possible, to a crowd ;
and he looked like anything but the great champion that
he was destined to become. He was a medium-sized colt,
of no great substance or bone, but with great quality.
He was in a black sweat — saving for lather — so nearly
mad was he with excitement ; but with him and all the
best of his sons this condition was nothing akin to fear
but simply demonstrated highly-strung nerves which
when the time for action came carried them through
many a close struggle.

Such, however, was Galopin on that day, and it would
have passed the prescience of any prophet who ever lived
to anticipate then the coming of Galopin's sons, St Simon,
Donovan, Galliard and other great ones, or his daughters,
of whom Galicia, dam of Bayardo and Lemberg, is the
most recently famous.

I returned to town from Newmarket with a rooted
belief that Claremont would win the Derby, and forthwith
took steps to acquire shares in the Stud Company Limited
(Cobham). This proved to be easy. I was invited down
to the city, when the secretary, named Kendrick, received
me with much courtesy and full financial explanations.
I did not understand the latter but soon invested £1000,
to begin with, and felt positive joy in being part owner
of Blair Athol. Naturally I took an early opportunity to
go down to see the Stud, and this time met the manager,
Mr Richard Bell, who as a showman was unrivalled. It
was a really happy day, and there was a superb chestnut
colt foal (own brother to Lady Love), by Blair Athol, out
of Vergiss-mein-Nicht, by the Flying Dutchman. Looking
at this colt, both Mr Bell and I became more than ever
convinced that Lady Love would win the Oaks, and there
was no secret about Lord Falmouth's preference of her to
his other filly, Spinaway, who had won the 1000 Guineas.

During the week before Epsom Sir Charles Dodsworth
came up to town, and wished to make the best of his time,

SIR CHARLES DODWORTH'S £500 219

so it happened that I repaired with him to Cremorne
and, being both of us young and happy, we went in for all
the " fun of the fair " — if it may be so styled. We danced
round the monster platform and engaged in the many
other frivolities, ending up by winning all sorts of absurd
prizes at the various shooting and other skill contests.
These prizes we carried off in triumph and a hansom to
my rooms. It was then getting on to three A.M., and there
was a strong wind blowing.

My friend, after taking a whisky and soda, suddenly
produced a sheaf of Bank of England notes from a pocket
of his greatcoat, and said : " Here is £500. I want you
to take it arid bet with it for me at Epsom."

Such a proposal reduced me to immediate gravity, and
I told him not to be a fool — or words to that effect.

On that he rushed to the window, opened it wide and,
holding the notes far outside it, cried :

" Look here, if you won't do it, I swear I'll throw them
out into the street ! "

The wind was howling, and I knew that in his then frame
of mind he would do what he said unless I humoured his
whim, so I said : " All right, give me the notes."

He handed them over, and I deposited them safely
in my bedroom. Shortly afterwards he departed, and I
went to bed and slept.

Next morning I wondered if the incident had been
an unpleasant dream, but no, there were the bank-notes
when I went to look for them : and the first instinct was
to act like the unprofitable servant and bury them until
after Epsom so as to return them intact : but, after all,
the unprofitable servant got into trouble for being an
anti-gambler, and, being young and hopeful, I decided
to let Sir Charles have a run for his money.

Then came the question what to do with it. I was
going to have my own trifle on Claremont for the Derby
and Lady Love for the Oaks. Should I do the same for
him ?

At first thought of this, I became conscious that my own

220 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

fancy was somewhat prejudiced and not good enough
to risk another man's money on, so after careful delibera-
tion I sent the money across to George Crook, at Boulogne,
with instructions that £200 of it was to go on Claremont —
i, 2, 3 — for the Derby and £300 on Lord Falmouth's pair
for the Oaks, leaving it to him to do the best he could.

Sir Charles Dodsworth had returned to Yorkshire the
morning after leaving the money with me.

George Crook executed the commission admirably,
and both bets came off all right. Claremont was second
for the Derby and Lord Falmouth's pair, Spinaway and
Lady Love, were first and second for the Oaks. What the
total return for these bets was I do not remember, but it
was a very large sum : and my own two small bets were
both lost.

Sir Charles Dodsworth came up to town forthwith on
hearing the good news, and asked me to go with him to
Tattersalls and help to buy hunters. Between us we
picked some of the best, and he bought — I think — four,
as good as a man could wish to own. His next whim
was that we should ride these horses in the Row to see
how they went.

I had gone with him thus far, but there I drew the line,
for to ride strange horses in the Row, to the possible
danger of other people, was a tall order indeed, and it was
somewhere about the time when The Galloping Snob of
Rotten Row was a song which found much vogue. More-
over, I talked to him with newly found prudence and
earnestly exhorted him never again to dream of betting
in such a rash and ridiculous manner. I pointed out, too
— as I remember well — that he had placed me in an unfair
position, for had I lost the money, as might well have
happened, some of his friends would have been sure to
think I had stuck to it. He declared he had no friends
who would dare to think that. But the upshot of it all
was that he let well alone, and I don't think he ever made
another bet. He certainly never asked me to make
another for him.

GALOPIN'S DERBY 221

He was a good, cheery sportsman, and was very well
known with the Bedale hounds, about which he wrote
some verses that were widely appreciated, but are perhaps
forgotten now.

If anyone asks why I sent the money over to George
Crook, it was because I really knew nothing about betting
on a large scale myself, and had such a pleasant recollection
of him from having won over Kingcraft. About ten
years ago — or it may be rather more — George Crook sent
me several bottles of excellent punch in memory of the
Dodsworth commission.

The inner working of the Oaks that year will perhaps
never be known, but Lord Dudley lost many thousands
over Lady Love, whom both Lord Falmouth and Mathew
Dawson preferred to Spinaway. Archer rode the latter
and Constable the former. Sister to Musket made a good
race with Spinaway until within the distance, and Lady
Love was always handy. Then, when Spinaway had
shaken off the only outside adversary and drawn clear,
Constable shook up Lady Love and took second place
without an effort. Lady Love was one of the most
beautiful mares I ever saw, and she lives in many good
pedigrees to-day.

I went to the Derby by road from Cobham, where I
was staying with the manager, and I had to sleep out the
night before at the Plough Inn — a curious experience in
its way, for everyone there was interested in Claremont.
Claremont was beaten a length by Galopin, and my own
idea that the winner was all out has recently been con-
firmed by Joe Cannon, who trained Claremont, whom they
fancied very much until a gallop the week before had some-
what disappointed them. Claremont finished four lengths
in front of the third, so that he and Galopin were out by
themselves. Garterley Bell, whose brother, Silvio, won the
Derby of 1877, was fourth, but he was touched in his wind.

Those were the beginnings of great days for Blair Athol
and Cobham, and I had already rushed much more
capital into the Company, which necessitated disposing of

222 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

securities of a more tangible character. I had also been
made a director of the Company, which pleased me vastly,
though my reason for pleasure may have been no more
satisfactory than that of the man who is married for his
money. I was the youngest member of the Board. Sir
Charles Legard was the chairman, and there were several
older men, including Captain Patrick. Lord Charles Ker,
who had been instrumental in retaining the yearling,
Bella, for the Company, in 1874, was the nearest approach
to me in point of age, and I shall not offend him by adding
that he was no more businesslike than I was.

They were halcyon days indeed, and before Ascot
that summer we were offered Doncaster and Marie Stuart,
with their engagements, for 8000 guineas. It was resolved
to buy them, and then the solicitor of the Company —
after the manner of solicitors — interposed obstacles.
We had no right under the Articles of Association to run
horses. I suggested that they might run in the name of
a director ; but then the old men raised the question of
personal responsibility in the event of accident. There
was no horse insurance in those days, and so it happened
that I, though anxious to take the risks, was overborne,
and this astounding bargain was suffered to lapse. It
would have changed the whole future of British blood-
stock, as we know it, had the purchase been completed.

When Ascot came on, Marie Stuart won the Gold Vase,
and Doncaster the Cup and Alexandra Plate — each race
with great ease. I can see him now, striding past the
stands in the finish for the Plate, with his tongue lolloping
out of his mouth on the near side and flopping up and
down with every stride. This peculiarity was handed
down to many of his descendants, and it must always be
arguable whether Orme did not owe his supposed poisoning
to working his tongue over a decayed tooth.

The Cobham sale was on the I2th June 1875, the
Saturday of Ascot, as always, and it was a very notable
one in many ways — to me, for instance, because I there
saw for the first time my future wife, on a coach at the

GREAT SALE AT COBHAM 223

ring-side, but I am not going to write more on that subject,
except that it was a happy incident.

The yearlings made 14,885 guineas, an average of
391 guineas for 38, and among them was Dee, by
Blair Athol, sold for 500 guineas ; Macaroon, by Macaroni,
out of Margery Daw, sold for 1700 guineas to Mr Gerard ;
Orleans (brother to Claremont), sold to Captain Machell
for 1500 guineas ; the Rover (sire of St Gatien), sold to
Mr T. Brown for 1800 guineas ; and Altyre, sold to Mr
Beddington for 520 guineas. A filly by the Earl or the
Palmer, out of Alabama, which I had bought at Thirsk,
when the squire, F. Bell, died, made 170 guineas, R. Peck
being the buyer. I had bought her for 50 guineas for
the Company and came near to having bought Kaleido-
scope on the same occasion, as already recorded.

All this, however, by no means completed the sales
that were big with fate, for Mr J. T. Mackenzie, who then
owned Hatchford Park, but had no idea of owning a
race-horse, became excited by the proceedings, and started
bidding for the chestnut colt by Blair Athol, out of Columba,
and perhap , he regretted having done so when the hammer
fell to his offer of 390 guineas. That colt was Rob Roy,
whose successes on the turf may be truly said to have
changed the tenor of Mr Mackenzie's life. He became an
intimate friend of the Prince of Wales, and he also became
Sir J. T. Mackenzie. Rosy Cross (then a yearling) was
also sold on that same occasion for 400 guineas, and finally
Macaroni, then fifteen years old, who had been leased for
two years by the Company at the rate of 2500 guineas
a year, came up for sale, and he made 7100 guineas, being
knocked down to Mr Oldaker, who bought him for the
Mentmore Stud, where King Tom (aged twenty-four)
was then still alive.

In that year, 1875, George Frederick had arrived at
Cobham, where also his sire, Marsyas, was standing ; and
Blue Gown had been secured in Germany to make his
return to his native country and this particular stud, so
that four Derby winners were brought into combination.

224 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HOKSE ! "

Besides the home park and paddocks there were out-
lying boxes and land at both Ockham and Hatchford
Park, and the Stud Company owned as many as 100
brood mares. I often used to stay down there at Park
Cottage with the manager, and enjoyed every hour of the
time. There were some glorious foals that year. Madame
Eglentine and her daughter, Jocosa, both had chestnut
colts by Blair Athol, not to be surpassed.

Mr Cartwright, owner of George Frederick, had one of
the best cellars in England, and he had sent, I do not
know how many dozen, of priceless Beycheville, to com-
memorate his Derby victory and in recognition of the
fact that Marsyas (sire of George Frederick) was at
Cobham. That Beycheville made the evenings when I
was there still more happy, and as for the purely business
aspect of the Stud, it did not worry me at all.

Moreover, throughout that summer, I did my first and
only London season. That is to say, I went a full round
of At Homes and other functions — two or three nearly
every evening — dinners and goodness knows what.
How I was drawn into this vortex matters not, but I think
I began at Mrs Freke's and saw Mrs Monckton and other
amateur celebrities act. Mr Isidore de Lara was all the
rage during that season, and I rejoice to think he has
still retained his popularity. Personally, however, I had
no real liking for this sort of life, and though people were
kind and hospitable and I made many friends, I was
really glad to get away from it all, and to Whitby Dog
Show in the late summer.

At that show was a novelty which remains in memory
much more clearly than the more pretentious details of
that London season. It was that the Whitby bellman
was employed to summon the various classes into the
ring, which he did in thoroughly orthodox fashion,
thus:

Oyez, Oyez, Oyez !

Class 20 — In the Ring immediately !

Every man to his dog 1 God save the Queen !

SANDOWN PARK 225

This, of course, with bell-ringing, before and after the
command.

There was a class for fox-hounds at that show, and some
few reasonably good hounds were shown. " Bobby "
Dowson, who is still remembered as a Whip of that old-
world pack, the Bilsdale, had brought a great, throaty,
mealy-pied hound from those kennels, and he had a
biscuit in his pocket with which to make the heavy-
jowled beast show himself. The judges at once relegated
him to a corner as having no chance, but the little old
man thought he was first choice, and kept holding up a
piece of biscuit for his hound, and saying : " Nowt can
ekal this dog ! Nowt can ekal him ! "

So engrossed was he in admiration of his exhibit that
the prizes and other honours were given and the rest
of the class had left the ring before he became aware that
he had got nothing.

I ought not to have omitted to say that I became a
member of Sandown Park in 1875, and Blackwood and I
were at the well-remembered meeting when Goldfinder,
ridden by E. P. Wilson, won the Grand International
Steeplechase of 30 sovereigns each, with 1200 sovereigns
added, on 24th April 1875. The distance was four miles,
and there were twenty runners. Goldfinder won by six
lengths, and I remember Lord Marcus Beresford's Chimney
Sweep was either placed or fourth. The fences then were
tremendous.

It should never be forgotten that Sandown Park proved
to be the salvation of racing in the neighbourhood of
London, for the old suburban fixtures had become so
scandalous as to be practically unendurable. Sandown
Park initiated the enclosed meetings, and from that time
forth all has been well, except that such race-courses have
been specially seized on during the war by the military
authorities, though ample land was available outside them,
and immense damage has been done to the interests of
racing and, by consequence, of horse-breeding. There
is no conceivable reason why Esher Common should not

226 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

have been utilised by the military authorities, instead
of Sandown Park : but the Nonconformist conscience
regards with deadly hostility an enterprise which, from
the first, guaranteed the respectability of racing. Thus
it happened that Sandown Park was victimised under
the falsely assumed pretext of war necessity.

CHAPTER XXII

Cobham Stud Booming — Kisber's Derby — Divinity Examination
— Jester II. at Limmers' Hotel — His Type changed — A true
Fox-terrier — The Beginnings of Sandown Park — Lord
Charles Ker— Sir Wilford Brett— The Vivandieres— Sale of
Maximilian at Cobham — Hume Webster comes in — Some-
thing about him — My Wedding — Pipers made me forget
my Money — I go away without it — Sandown Park Manager
to the Rescue — Hats off for Craig Millar's Doncaster Cup
— New Year's Eve and Punch — Morning and the Bar
Examination — Called to the Bar nevertheless

I AM fearful of dwelling too long on this crowded
period of my life, but cannot omit to mention the
Blair Athol triumph with Craig Millar, who won
the 1875 St Leger. He was a chestnut horse of peculiarly
Oriental type, very much like Cicero — indeed, just such
another — only Craig Millar used to gallop with his head
extended almost to a straight line with his neck. He
was a very fine stayer, as was proved to demonstration at
Doncaster the following year.

Blair Athol headed the list of winning stallions for 1875,
and Macaroni was second. No wonder that the Cobham
Stud seemed to be well on the up line. Ten per cent,
dividend had been paid each year, and why should not
even that be increased ? True, there were Mr John
Coupland's debentures to redeem after the third year,
but what matter ?

I saw Kisber win the Derby of 1876. I was in one of
the boxes, and under agreeable conditions. I was not
then engaged to be married, but progressing that way.
In the same circumstances, I saw Camelia and Enguerrande
run their dead heat for the Oaks : but before that time —
it was in the winter months and the floods were out —
I had been advised — I will not say commanded — by the
227

228 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

lady who later did me the honour to become my wife to
go and pass my Divinity examination at Oxford. I did
this thing, even though it involved driving in a pig-cart
from Abingdon along the flooded road, and I did not even
possess a Greek Testament at the time, but that did not
worry me, for the Bible has always been my standard
work. So the examination was passed as a matter of
course, though, as mentioned already, I did not trouble
to take my degree until twenty years later. What fools
we mortals be !

I suppose it is only natural that I should dwell — it
may be too long — on this particular year, 1876, with its
various see-saw mechanism as between Kisber and
Petrarch, and its much more important happening, as
far as I was concerned : but I must, at any rate, make
some mention of the Cobham sale, and also of the fact
that, having finished my year with Mr Butterworth, the
Special Pleader, I was doing six months in the chambers
of Mr Charles Davidson, the famous conveyancer, who,
however, was then an old man and wrote me twelve years
later, on i6th November 1888 :

I am satisfied that you were in ray chambers as a pupil for six
months, in or about 1876, but the interval which has elapsed
precludes me from being able to give any definite statement as to
your capacity or knowledge of law.

CHARLES DAVIDSON.

Quite so, and all honour to the old gentleman for not
testifying to what he did not remember ; but to have been
six months in Davidson's chambers — unless you were
quite a fool — was an ample credential that you must have
had considerable knowledge of the law — as it then was.

But all this time I have been missing events of some
importance, one of which was that in December, 1875,
I won first prize at the Alexandra Palace, with Jester II.,
the best fox-terrier I ever owned. He was by old Jester
out of a pure kennel-terrier bitch, bred by Ben Morgan
and belonging to Lord Middleton's kennels. He was given

A TRUE FOX-TERRIER 229

as a puppy to Noah Hook, one of Sir George Wombwell's
keepers, and I bought the young dog from him at a
little over six months old, still undocked, and the docking
of him at that age was no easy job. Here let me advise
all whom it may concern that it is of the essence of correct
dealing with a fox-terrier pup to always leave him an
amply sufficient length of stern, so that there may be no
lack of something to lay hold of in tailing him out of a
fox-earth. There has been a dreadful tendency, among
the modern generation of breeders and judges, to forget
this very important point.

Jester II. was a good long time before his docking in
" riper years " proved as satisfactory as if it had been
done when he was a nine or ten days' old puppy, for at
that age it is very easy to take off sufficient of the tail
between the fore-fingers and thumbs, and the operation is
almost painless ; but he grew out into a real champion,
and was as game a dog as ever lived. He had a coat on
him of the texture of pig's bristles, long and lying flat
like the hackles on a duck's back, and quite as difficult to
turn up the wrong way. It was a coat that was almost
impervious to cold, and he would swim about, hunting
rats in the Codbeck, when there was a " fresh " on, in the
depth of winter, as long as you would allow him, without
ever a shiver when he came out on the bank. That was
a terrier indeed, and when he won at the Alexandra Palace
the £10 first prize — a big prize for a dog show — The Field,
of 25th December 1875, said : " Thirty- three competed
and formed one of the best dog classes in the show.
Mr Allison's Jester II. here had his merits recognised,
being placed first, though unnoticed at Birmingham."

The point of this story is, however, that as Jester II.
was a thoroughly nice, companionable dog, I took him
home from the show to 24 St James's Place for the night,
having deposited a sovereign at the show, according to
rule, as bail for his return in the morning. That night I
was engaged to dine with the late David Hope Johnstone
at Limmers', and I took the dog with me for I knew that

230 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

a sight of him would interest my host, as it certainly did.
We dined cheerily and well, and continued sitting in the
coffee-room to about 11.30 P.M., when there came in Cyril
Flower and another man, with a common beast of a bull-
terrier weighing about 25 lb., and not worth 305. Almost
in a moment the two dogs started fighting, and those
present — saving myself — were delighted by such a novelty
in such a place. Their enthusiasm was so great that I
was obliged to sit and suffer, or labour under the imputa-
tion that I doubted the gameness of my dog. I was
certainly on " a good hiding to nothing " — as the saying
is — and the big brute was, so far, too heavy. He got a hold
of my dog somewhere near one of his eyes and held on as
if he would never let go, but Jester II. was the more active,
and very hard-bitten too.

Fortunately the big dog was fat, and as mine was in
show condition, they had fought themselves to an absolute
standstill in fifteen minutes, and a bowl of water being
brought, they both lapped out of it and settled down like
gentlemen with mutual appreciation.

I got my dog away home as soon as I could, and found
him badly cut about the head. I fomented him as best
I could, and he slept peacefully on my bed, but next
morning he had a head like a football.

Nevertheless, I had, of course, to take him back to the
show, and did so. The result was strangely amusing,
for as I stood by and heard the comments of the public
on the first-prize winner I felt that the fight had not
been fought in vain.

The common remark of the average critic was : " Dear
me ! and that is the winning dog ! How much the type
has changed ! " Such comments were really precious
to me, who knew so truly how the "type" had been
changed in this instance.

Poor Jester II. ! he was a wonder indeed, as fox-
terriers go, and I have not seen a single modern one with
a coat like his. John Doyle wrote to offer me £60 for
him the following year, and I might have accepted it,

LORD CHARLES KER 231

but a man arrived from Bradford and offered £80, so he
got the dog. Later on this man refused £150 for him —
so there were decent prices, even in those days.

I ought not, I suppose, to have cast back — and least
of all into a dog story — but as I have, in fact, got back
into 1875, I may as well tell the story of the starting of
Sandown Park as it was told to me by one who knew.

Lord Charles Ker and the late Mr Millward first con-
ceived the idea of securing the land and making it into an
enclosed race-couise. Neither was an affluent man, but
both had plenty of assurance, and having interviewed the
solicitor who had the property to sell, they closed with his
offer at a certain price, and paid a deposit in the shape of
a promissory note for £1500. The bargain was such a
good one that they succeeded in mortgaging the land for
£4000 more than the purchase money, and thus they had
a margin of working capital after completing the purchase.
It was a very clever and entirely correct business trans-
action so far as it went, but how far it would have
gone, had not the late General Owen Williams and Mr
Hwfa Willams come to the rescue, it is needless at this
period to speculate.

Lord Charles Ker was always one of the cheeriest and
most undefeated sportsmen that ever breathed, but he
never was nor ever could be a financier or skilled business
man. All honour to him, at the same time, for having,
so to speak, invented Sandown Park, which grew into a
far-reaching success, not only in itself, but by reason of
other successful enclosed courses which followed on the
same lines. I have not seen Lord Charles Ker for some
years, but I am sure he deserves a testimonial. He used
to think, indeed, for a good many years that he still owned
Sandown Park and had been wrongfully dispossessed of it.
That was a mistake on his part, but there is no mistake
about the initiative of this brilliant success having been
his. He also was responsible for the big Aintree type of
fences which were at first built up at Sandown.

Sir Wilford Brett, brother of Sir Baliol Brett (after-

232 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

wards Lord Esher), lived at Esher and soon became
actively concerned in Sandown Park, where his adminis-
trative experience enabled him to render invaluable
service, and it was he who later on arranged for the card
selling by Vivandieres, which used to be a pleasant
novelty. Sergeant Walker was ground manager from
the first and the general manager was Mr Whitaker Bushe,
between whom and " Pavo " of The Morning Post there
was a deadly feud.

I do not profess to know the inner workings of Sandown
Park^since its early stages, but it certainly went on from
strength to strength, and it is a thousand pities that the
military authorities should have injured it and other
race-courses so needlessly.

After this brief retrogression I must get forward to the
Cobham sale of I7th June 1876, which totalled 14,170
guineas for the Company's forty-one yearlings. The colt
by Blair Athol out of Vergiss-mein-Nicht, who had been
such a grand foal, was equally attractive as a yearling.
He was bought by Mr Gerard (afterwards Lord Gerard),
for 2300 guineas, and, being a January foal, he was a
rare sort for a June sale, but he did not grow, and when
I saw him at Newmarket the next season he seemed very
little bigger than at the sale. He was named Lord Lovell,
and being a brother to Lady Love, should have raced,
but he proved useless. The Blair Athol- Jocosa colt had
died of pneumonia the year before, and though his close
relative out of Madame Eglentine had survived, his sides
were denuded of hair, as a result of blistering. Charles
Blanton gave 1150 guineas for him at the sale. The name,
Centenary, was given him and he won many races. Among
other good winners disposed of at that sale was Strathfleet,
by Scottish Chief, out of Masquerade, who was bought by
Major Barlow for the Duke of Westminster for 1050
guineas. Altogether, things were going very well for the
Stud Company, and after our last lot had been knocked
down for 210 guineas to Mr G. E. Paget — she proved to
be Empress of India — I went to the luncheon tent to

SIR WII.KORD BRETT

AND

THK SANDO\VX PARK VIVANDIKRE*

THE RECORD YEARLING 233

speed certain parting guests who wanted to get away
sharp.

While we were there someone came in, who said a yearling
had jus: been sold for 4100 guineas. His words seemed to
uc as an idle tale. Six yearlings, the property of Mr R. H.
Combe, were to come up after the Company's, but there
was nothing sensational among them — at least so we
thought. Very soon, however, the story was confirmed.
The colt by Macaroni out of Duchess had indeed realised
4100 guineas, Robert Peck and Sir Robert Jardine having
opposed one another with astounding pertinacity, until
the former's bid of an extra 100 guineas after the 4000
guineas proved successful. This was for many years
the record auction price for a yearling. Peck was lucky
in finding the Duke of Westminster ready to take the
colt (Maximilian) off his hands, for he turned out a very
disappointing horse. He ran once only as a two-year-old,
unplaced ; and did not start at three years.

As a four-year-old, however, he ran nine tunes and
won four, his best performance being when he carried
7 stone 7 Ib. for the Liverpool July Cup, and won by a neck
from the favourite, Glendale, 7 stone 12 Ib., New Laund
and eight others. He cannot therefore be regarded as
having been an utter failure, after the manner of many
other high-priced ones. Robert Peck made a better
purchase, however, for 1000 guineas that same afternoon,
when he secured — also out of Mr Combe's lots — the colt
by Lord Clifden out of Weatherside. This was the
Reefer, who won the Chester Cup in 1879, and a good
many other races.

The above will serve to give some impression of how
the Stud Company Limited was flourishing in those far-off
days. I had increased my holding in it and had made the
acquaintance of Mr Hume Webster, the managing director
of the Credit Company, who was arranging an advance
to the Company for the purpose of paying off Mr Coupland's
£25,000 debentures, then about to fall due. This was done
all right on the basis of another debenture issue, which

234 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

ultimately increased to £40,000 at 10 per cent., with 2\
per cent, commission to Mr Webster for arranging the
business. He was a man of whom, adopting the maxim,
De mortuis nil nisi bonum, I can truly say that he was
gifted with extraordinary abilities.

He joined the Board of the Stud Company to protect
the financial interests of the Credit Company, and at that
time he was absolutely ignorant on the subject of horses
in general and bloodstock in particular.

He mastered the subject in its business details within
a few weeks, and very soon he had also grasped what the
Continental and Colonial demand was for the British
thoroughbred. All this he was destined to exploit within
two or three years for his own advantage at Marden
Deer Park. He had a private financial business in
Abchurch Lane, with the late Captain Noel Hoare, R.N.,
as partner. The Credit Company was located within
easy distance, and one of the Guinness family was its
chief capitalist.

Such, then, was the position, and I got married on
3oth August 1876, before I had even passed my Bar
examination. No man is a hero at his own wedding —
indeed he is but a necessary encumbrance — and it is
not my intention to give any account of that function
save that an uncle of my wife, the late Colonel Arthur
Campbell- Walker, brought down some pipers of a Highland
regiment, who piped so distractingly that in changing my
wedding garments for going-away rig, I forgot to transfer
my note-case, and, as a result, found, before we had
driven 200 yards, that I had but a few shillings in my
pocket.

It was, of course, impossible to turn back, and as we
were only driving from a distance of 15 miles to a London
hotel it did not much matter. I telegraphed from the
first available office, asking for my note-case to be for-
warded, and it was brought to London for me by a Sandown
Park official who happened to be on his way to town.
I have always liked Sandown Park, and that incident

CRAIG MILLAR'S CUP 235

linked it intimately with me, insomuch as this emissary
proved a friend in need at such a time.

I will say no more than that in marrying I did the one
thing of my life which has never been touched by the
slightest shadow of regret. That is mere truth, and not
to be dilated on heie.

We went to Kilvington in time for the St Leger week,
and Tom Scott and I, as a matter of course, saw Petrarch
win the St Leger — it was his turn that time. There must
have been something the matter with Kisber, who started
a hot favourite, but that year's classic results were such
that it is idle to attempt any explanation of them at
this date. Petrarch was a beautiful, blood-like bay
colt, rather short in his back ribs and light of loin,
but it can hardly admit of doubt that the much more
sturdy and robust Kisber was the better animal. So let
it rest.

The Friday at Doncaster sent us back overjoyed to
Kilvington, for Craig Millar won the Cup, 2 miles 5 furlongs,
very easily, by 2 lengths, with Controversy second, and
Hampton (who started favourite) and Charon unplaced.
That is the only occasion during a long life on which I
have thrown up my hat, but I did it then, and had much
difficulty in recovering it in a battered condition. People
had been so aggravating on the subject of Blair Athol's
stock not staying that this triumph was joy indeed.

Moreover, the race before the Cup had been won by
Twine the Plaiden (daughter of Blair Athol and Old Orange
Girl) by ten lengths, and they brought her out again for
the race after the Cup, the Park Hill Stakes, over the
Leger course. This too she won running away. I can
feel the exaltation of those three Blair Athol triumphs
even now as I write.

We went off home there and then, with the conviction
that for us the Race-course had accomplished its best
possible. Whether we were reprimanded or not on our
return is buried in oblivion ; what does blaze out in the
light of memory is that we were very happy. Blair Athol

236 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE! "

was indeed a fitting object of hero-worship. No horse
has ever attained to his position in that respect.

I remained in the north for shooting and hunting until
near Christmas, and then went south. My examination
for the Bar was to begin on ist January 1877, and I had
not given it a thought. Christmas came, and New Year's
Eve. We were at Kingston and my father-in-law, as a
Scotsman, had assembled friends to see the old year
out in orthodox style. Punch was brewed, without my
redeeming ingredient of syrup of ginger. I saw the
New Year in with adequate festivity, and retired to rest
about 2 A.M., with the horrible knowledge that I had to
make a fifteen-mile railway journey and must be in the
Hall at Lincoln's Inn by 10 A.M.

It would have been far better not to go to bed, for
when I was called at 7 A.M. I felt as Solomon clearly did
when he wrote, in regard to his overnight condition after
celebrations : " When shall I arise ? "

Yet it was necessary to " arise." Breakfast was out
of the question, and hastily picking up a book containing
a synopsis of " Leading Cases," I hurried off to the railway
station and so, in due course and time, to the Hall of
Lincoln's Inn ! Bitterly did I regret the lack of syrup
of ginger in that punch, for it was at least ten minutes
before I could even read the paper before me. Then
came a few minutes of deadly fear that I was actually
going to fail to deal with the questions.

Such a thought drove away the demons of discomfort,
and having made a start I was soon scribbling away all
right, for the paper was really a simple one.

The later papers were subject to no such handicap as
that awful first one, and there was no difficulty so far as
they were concerned, but the first called for the most
ruthless determination before I could force my faculties
into tackling it. All ended well ; but I shall always
think it positively inhuman on the part of the legal
authorities to fix such examinations for 10 A.M. on the
morning of ist January, before our old year follies have

MY LAST EXAMINATION 237

evaporated or our new year's resolutions have had time
to get a move on.

Be that as it may, the ordeal, in my case, was success-
fully gone through, and on 25th April 1877 I was called
to the Bar.

CHAPTER XXIII

Northallerton Sessions — " Skiddy " — Judging Terriers at the
Crystal Palace — Tom Fitzwilliam — Curiosities of the N.E.
Circuit — Samuel Danks Waddy — Mathew Dawson and Lord
Falmouth at Newmarket — Silvio's Great Trial — Glorious Year
for Blair Athol — Cobham Stud in excelsis — Buying Mares
from John Porter — Lured to Leeds — Left at Leeds — Cobham
neglected — Money Losses — Trouble brewing — Ten per Cent.
Dividend but no Money — Russo-Turkish War — Disraeli —
Position of the Stud Company Ltd.

NOW I was not without a good reason for going to
the Bar, inasmuch as Mr Arrowsmith was still
flourishing and the old office in Thirsk was that
of Arrowsmith & Richardson. They did a big business,
and the briefs at Northallerton Quarter Sessions came
as a matter almost of course to me, and there was also
at Assizes all the work that could be given to an extreme
junior. I delighted in Northallerton Quarter Sessions.
The leader of the Bar there was Skidmore — " Skiddy,"
as he used to be called — and he was a wonder for tickling
the ears of country juries.

I have heard a jury interpose when Skidmore was defend-
ing a man against whom no case was made out, and the
judge was about to direct them to declare him not guilty,
and the foreman said : " We should like to hear Mr
Skidmore, my Lord ! "

This was at York Assizes and the judge allowed them to
hear the speech in defence, though there was absolutely
no necessity for it. The jury would not on any account
have missed that treat if they could possibly have avoided
doing so. Sutherst, who was heard much of in legal
proceedings of later years, was also a Northallerton
Sessions man, and there were many others.

We had a splendid cellar of port at the old hotel, which

238

NORTHALLERTON SESSIONS 239

had been kept going for generations. When I used to go,
there was a great deal more of 1847 vintage than could
be consumed, in the ordinary way, and the corks were
getting a little doubtful. Much of it was turned over to
wine merchants for wines of later vintages, and thus the
cellar was kept in proper order for the future as well as
for the then present.

I am not sure whether it was in my first year at the Bar
or the second — and it does not matter which — that I had
a curious experience of work at Northallerton. I had
to judge fox-terriers at the Crystal Palace, with the Hon.
Tom Fitzwilliam as a colleague, and I had to be at North-
allerton for the Sessions the following morning. That
may not seem a very difficult job, but the classes to be
judged were big ones — very different from what they are
nowadays — and it took us from about n A.M. to 4 P.M.
to finish them. No judge whom I ever met was so com-
pletely at one with me as he was, and there was no difficulty
on that score. Still, the task was a tiring one, and when I
got back to town there was only just time to dine hastily
and get away by the night train. Most people could have
slept peacefully, but not so I. I had been strung up by
that judging and sleep would have been quite out of the
question. I had a catalogue and kept worrying over it
and wondenng whether all our awards had been right.

The train arrived at York at 2 A.M. and theie was an
interval of four hours before there was one which would
stop at Northallerton. Again the idea of sleep was out
of the question, and as I had four briefs I went into the
Station Hotel to read them. This was better than reading
the catalogue, and in the run between York and North-
allerton the time passed quite easily. I arrived there in
plenty of time to get into shape for breakfast with the
others, and then we went into court.

I did my work in the way of prosecuting sundry alleged
criminals, and if the afternoon brought on a feeling of
drowsiness, it was only because the proceedings were
devoid of interest. That evening after dinner I sat with

240 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

others until 2 A.M. the next morning without the remotest
inclination to sleep, then had a few hours in bed, and
was in court at 10 A.M. — again did my work, and got
away to town by an afternoon train and arrived there
without the slightest feeling that I had done more or
slept less than usual. This was, of course, a very trifling
experience, but it served to prove to me that all the talk
about so many hours of sleep being essential to well-
being is nonsense, if only you are engaged in work of
real interest or importance. It is infinitely worse to
sleep too much than to sleep too little, and the siesta is
a deadly habit, no matter what climate you are in.

I went on the North Eastern Circuit, and it was a good
time indeed. Frank Lockwood was at that period only
just becoming a leading light, and the late Judges Cave
and Lawrence were among the leaders of the Circuit.
Samuel Danks Waddy was notable, and Meysey-Thompson
was " the junior " of the Circuit. Very clever was he,
even for a junior, who is expected always to be witty in
the exercise of his office. I suppose I ought not even now
to go into details of the ceremonials of a court after
dinner to which certain offenders are from time to time
summoned, but I cannot forbear quoting Meysey-
Thompson's summons to Lawrence Gane, a Leeds barrister,
whose clerk was a champion for securing briefs :

Lawrence Gane, come into the Court !
Lawrence Gane, come into the Court !
Greedy, guinea-getting, ill-gotten Gane,
Come into the Court !

There was, of course, on these occasions permitted
licence of speech, and no offence could be taken at what
was said by anybody, least of all by " the junior," but I
have always thought that the descriptive line given above
was worthy of any of the most famous wits in the day
when wit was considered essential to a man of fashion.

Then there was a song in which came the line :

And Waddy has a method of succeeding at the Bar.

MATHEW DAWSON AT HEATH HOUSE 241

The allusion was to the habit of preaching in Noncon-
formist pulpits, which Samuel Danks cultivated with much
success, though far be it from me to suggest here that he
was influenced by any but the most conscientious motives.

Stuart Wortley was on the North Eastern Circuit with
me, so that we were still mixed up together, though it
was not to be for very long.

It was in the spring of 1877 that I first made the personal
acquaintance of Mathew Dawson and Lord Falmouth.
It wab a year big with fate for the Cobham stud, for
there were many Blair Athol three-year-olds of great
pretensions, Rob Roy in particular, whose purchase at
Cobham has been already referred to. Mr Bell, the
Cobham manager, and I went to Newmarket a week or
so before the racing season opened, and we stayed at the
Rutland Arms. After dining there we spent the evening
with Mathew Dawson at Heath House, and a very delight-
ful evening it was. Mathew Dawson was a really great
man, who would have risen to the top of the tree in any
walk of life, and to hear him talk on the subject of horses
and racing was in its way a liberal education. It was a
convivial evening too, for, like every reasonable Scotsman,
he appreciated good whisky. Moreover, as regards Blair
Athol, he told us how the great horse's son, Silvio, had been
tried that very morning. They had set him a big task —
i.e. to beat the four-year-old Skylark over a mile at a
difference of only 6 Ib. in favour of Silvio, who had won
so easily that he was certainly the equal of the old one
at even weights.

This was manifestly a great trial, for the weight for age
difference between a three-year-old and a four-year-old
in March is 20 Ib., and Skylark had been one of the best
of the preceding season, nor had he failed to improve, for
he won the Gold Vase at Ascot later on in 1877. Before
the evening had finished we had begun to think that the
Derby was as good as over, and when we left for the
Rutland Arms both my companion and I were so regard-
less of anything else except the coming triumphs of Blair

242 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Athol that we walked into the ditch instead of through
the gate which opens on to the grass near the Bury road.
However, that did not matter, and we were out betimes
next morning to see Silvio, who with the rest of the
Heath House string was walking round not far from the
Cesarewitch stand. Lord Falmouth was there, and he
was good enough to also tell us how Silvio had been tried,
for he was as great a believer in Blair Athol as we were,
and was glad to impart such good news. He agreed that
the trial was very high, " but," added he, " I question
whether it is good enough to beat Chamant."

Silvio was a bay colt of medium size and perfect quality.
He was of a type such as Blair Athol several times sired
out of Kingston mares, the " nick " no doubt coming
through Queen Mary, for Partisan was her grandsire as
also he was Kingston's. Silverhair, the dam of Silvio,
had been several times mated with Blair Athol, the first
produce being Silver Ring, a beautiful and very good
filly, of the same type as Silvio. The second was Garterly
Bell, a bigger and more heavily framed colt, but quite a
good one until his wind became affected. Then came
Silvio and, after him, Lohengrin, who was a two-year-old
when we stood there looking at the string. Lohengrin
was a big chestnut colt and a typical Blair Athol. Refer-
ring to the great difference between him and Silvio, Lord
Falmouth said, merely in jest, to the Cobham manager :
" You must have made a mistake, I chink, about that one,"
pointing to Silvio, " and put the mare to Macaroni."

Somehow this remark, which had no touch of serious
meaning, got repeated, and people ultimately ascribed
to it an altogether unintended significance. As Lord
Falmouth used always to send a man of his own with
such of his mares as visited Blair Athol, he could not for
a moment have really entertained any such idea, and
those who imagined there was anything in it were un-
deceived later on when many of Silvio's stock showed
distinct Blair Athol characteristics.

There were two very grand two-year-old fillies by Blair

LORD FALMOUTH AND SILVIO 243

Athol among the lot under notice. One was Redwing,
a big bay or brown, out of Wheatear (dam of Skylark),
and the other was a still bigger chestnut, Lady of Mercia,
out of Lady Coventry, whose three-year-old bay daughter,
Lady Golightly, was also on view. Of Lady of Mercia
Lord Falmouth had very high hopes indeed, but they did
not materialise. Her name appears, however, in not a few
good French pedigrees. Redwing, on the other hand,
was a success, and won the Coronation Stakes of 1878.
Skylark was there, and he was a rare stamp of horse,
strong as a castle and very wide to follow. His hocks
were not quite what they should be, but they never failed
him, and he has his name in the stud book for many a
day to come as the sire of Warble, dam of Wargrave and
grandam of Spearmint.

In the course of that morning at Newmarket we went
and saw Rob Roy, at Blanton's, and nothing could have
been looking better than the blaze-faced chestnut son of
Blair Athol and Columba ; but we returned home full of
Silvio and his trial, so that all our friends were on him
for the Derby.

And then an evil thing happened, for Silvio ran for the
Newmarket Biennial at the Craven Meeting and was
unplaced. It was explained that he would not face
the rainstorm ; but when it came to the Two Thousand
Guineas he finished only third to Chamant and Brown
Prince. There was no particular excuse for him that time,
and the great tip began to seem an odiously bad one.
Altyre, a Cobham-bred Blair Athol, had meanwhile come
to the fore by winning two races easily in one afternoon
at Newmarket. He was now greatly fancied for the
Derby, though as a two-year-old he had seemed so
moderate that Mr Beddington half decided to convert
him into a park hack.

Derby day arrived and there were no fewer than five
Blair Athols in the field, Silvio, Rob Roy, Altyre, Orleans
and Covenanter, all of which, except Silvio, had been sold
as yearlings at Cobham.

244 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

I will not dwell on the race, for which Rob Roy was
favourite, and looked a perfect picture, with Custance up in
brand-new Tartan colours. Nay more, he would almost
certainly have won — and Robert Peck was of this opinion,
too — had he not run out very wide indeed at Tattenham
Corner. As it was, Silvio won cleverly from Glen Arthur,
with Rob Roy third and Altyre close up. It was a great
day indeed, and the Cobham yearlings on the Ascot
Saturday, Silvio having won the Prince of Wales' Stakes
meanwhile, with the full penalty, made 20,610 guineas.

Is it to be wondered at that I thought more and more
of the Stud Company, and even bought some mares of my
own, four or five of which were very good purchases from
John Porter, on the occasion of my first visit to Kingsclere ?
One of these was Scotch Reel (1874), by Scottish Chief, out
of Masquerade, in foal to Dutch Skater; another was
Sweet Marjoram (1870), by Adventurer, out of Lady Flora
by Stockwell, with a filly by Scottish Chief, and in foal to
Carnival, whom we had brought back from the Continent
to Cobham the year before ; and another was La Neva
(1866), by Monarque, out of Etoile du Nord by the Baron,
with a filly by Musket and covered by King of the Forest.
I also bought several at the break up of the Dewhurst
stud that year, and beautifully bred ones they were, such
as Lady Ravensworth (1865), by Voltigeur, out of Lady
Hawthorn, with a colt by King of the Forest and covered
by Scottish Chief ; Lavinia (1863), by The Cure, out of
Lady Louisa by Touchstone, with a colt by The Palmer
and covered by Scottish Chief; and others which it is
needless to mention.

I have a horror of being prolix over this well-remembered
time, so will dash on to narrate how we went to Scarborough
that August and September. Scarboiough was then a
very different place from what it is now, and that was a
very great season, uninvaded by masses of trippers as in
these later days. It was at Scarborough that I met an
old friend of my father-in-law. His name was Curwood
and he was the Town Clerk of Leeds. As soon as he knew

A LEEDS ADVENTURE 245

that I had been but recently called to the Bar he said :
" Come and localise at Leeds, and I'll make your fortune ! "

The idea of localising at Leeds was, I confess, hateful to
me, but having given hostages to fortune in getting married
and so forth, I felt I ought not to study my own inclina-
tions, and so we decided to embark on this, to me, un-
attractive venture. Mr Curwood was as good as his word,
for at the very outset he invited me to a dinner at his
house where I met fully a dozen solicitors, to all of whom
he spoke about me in painfully eulogistic terms, and
before I had been at Leeds a fortnight I was fairly
overwhelmed with work, much of which was for the
municipal authorities.

It is easy to understand that as there were counsel
in Leeds who had been established there for as much as
twenty years my meteoric appearance was not viewed
favourably, and one of my first cases was to defend some
of the town police who had acted quite indefensibly,
by searching someone's house for stolen property when
they had not a search warrant.

Elder counsel sat in court with ill-concealed satisfaction
at my abortive efforts to defend these men. There had
been very good reason to suspect that the stolen property
was where they searched, but it was not, and to have
stated the grounds for suspicion would have been merely
to add insult to injury. However, I did the best I could,
and I am very sure none of the others in court could have
exculpated those policemen. It was easy to see that I
was going to get myself disliked, but I was prepared to
worry through all that, for the Town Clerk was a tower
of strength and I had full confidence in myself ; but there
came a bolt from the blue at the end of my first fortnight,
when my friend was offered the solicitorship of the Great
Eastern Railway and accepted it. Thereupon he departed
from Leeds, leaving me, who had gone up like a rocket, to
an entirely false position, to descend — if not quite like a
stick, but still to descend.

In a few months' time I had shaken down to a more

246 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

reasonable position and had found good friends, such as
the late George Bankes, Charles Mellor, Tindal Atkinson
and others of the local division. Leeds Borough Sessions,
West Riding Sessions and various odds and ends of
practice, besides Northallerton Sessions and the North
Eastern Circuit, kept me fairly busy, and I had a brass
plate with my name on it outside somewhat pretentious
chambers, and a very small clerk named Pickles. Why
it should have been orthodox to have a brass plate at
Leeds while such a thing would be unimaginable in London,
I know not, but I have the brass plate somewhere or
other to this day.

But before all this had happened, and indeed before
the end of the Scarborough visit, I had, of course, been
to Doncaster to see Silvio win the St Leger. Never do I
remember a horse striking off into more perfect action than
he did as he commenced his canter past the stands to the
start. I had seen his stable companion, Lady Golightly,
win the Great Yorkshire Stakes at York August Meeting,
but never doubted which would win the Leger. I had
£10 on Silvio — and I have never backed a horse for more.
It is a matter of history, of course, that he won easily
from Lady Golightly.

Thus the " boom " at Cobham was continued. Blair
Athol headed the list of winning stallions that year by
more than 10,000 sovereigns, and we raised his fee to
200 guineas, which turned out to be a fatal policy.

The fly in the ointment, so far as I was concerned, at
Leeds was that I could not pay visits to Cobham, though
it was possible to attend occasional Board meetings by
an early express to town, and return the same evening.
Somehow, despite the magnificent superficial show of the
stud, I began to feel that all was not well. Moreover,
our best friends among breeders, such as Lord Falmouth
and Mr Stirling Crawford, resolutely refused to pay more
than 100 guineas fee, even for Blair Athol.

Personally I had involved myself in various financial
transactions, one of which concerned a patent for turning

CLOUDS GATHERING 247

flax or cotton into silk or its equivalent by an electro-
veneering process. The patentee was a Frenchman named
Magner, and I have never been quite satisfied that he did
not believe in his invention, but I know I dropped a lot
of money and nothing came of it. Then, too, I had heard
Mr Goschen speak on his return from Egypt, after doing
what he could to arrange finance there, and I conceived
the idea that Egyptian Unified should be bought, so I
speculated in 10,000 of them and they had such a fall that
I lost £1500 in two accounts. Still, I did not mind, for I
had paid for them down to twenty-eight and regarded it as
merely an instalment towards taking them up, but alas ! —
I being then away from London — there came word that
the brokers with whom I dealt had been " hammered "
and the stock sold out against them. Before I knew this
Unifieds had risen seven, and they kept on rising from that
time forth. These things, however, were -but the outer
fringe of money troubles which the city of London in-
volved me in, and as I can't exactly blame myself, and
certainly will not blame anyone else, the easiest plan is to
give the subject a miss, with the simple intimation that
troubles were brewing. Yet I had full faith in Cobham
to make good any other deficiencies, and in 1878 the
yearlings sold for no less than 22,070 guineas. That
surely was encouraging ; but I was out of touch with the
show, being exiled at Leeds, and there had been a decimat-
ing attack of joint evil among the foals that year — it was
called " foal disease " at that time. Veterinary science
was so little advanced then that the very necessary pre-
caution of disinfecting the navels of new-born foals was
not practised, and of course the disease flew round like
wildfire. How many foals died I cannot say, but I know
that practically all of mine did, the mares being then at
Cobham.

Moreover, in the fifth year of the Company's operations,
though the accounts as passed by the auditors showed
justification for another 10 per cent, dividend, which
was accordingly declared, the money with which to pay

248 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

it was not at the bank, but only in the problematical
value of mares and stallions.

I have never yet come upon a scheme by which
accounts of a stud farm could be kept with any pretence
of certainty, for there is no sort of standard value by
which any of the animals can be assessed. What you
have given 1000 guineas for may depreciate to 50 guineas,
and a 5o-guinea purchase may become worth 5000 guineas.
These considerations are still more confusing if you enter
such animals in the books at cost price, for the animal
bought for 50 and worth 5000 guineas will have eaten
its head off in the first year and be counted as valueless.

The above is a dry subject, and at the time I am dealing
with there were events in progress of absorbing interest.
The Russo-Turkish War had been concluded by the Treaty
of Berlin on i6th July 1878, and Lord Salisbury and
Disraeli had returned to England in a blaze of triumph.
In 1877 there had been the ever-to-be-remembered defence
of Plevna from July to November, and in the earlier half
of 1878 the Indian troops had been brought to Malta.
Disraeli then was at the zenith of his power, and it is sad
that his opportunity should have come so late in life,
for he it was who first raised the British Empire to con-
scious knowledge of its corporate existence, and in that
one brief motto of Imperium et Libertas he epitomised
the whole code under which the sisterhood of free nations
can co-operate for the good of all.

I had never ceased to be mixed up with politics in so
far as they could be made to serve the cause of Tory
Democracy as so beautifully developed in Disraeli's
books, especially in Sybil, and I think Tory Democracy
has, from the first, meant " All for England — all for the
British Empire."

As to the Treaty of Berlin, Lord Salisbury, no doubt,
thought in later years that they had " backed the wrong
horse," in Turkey, but it was only after the real Turkey
had been bought and sold to the Germans, under the
sickening sham of developing Liberal ideas in a country

DISRAELI 249

which Abdul Hamid had alone known how to rule. What
the Liberal ideas of the Young Turks were we now know
— liberality to themselves and a fig for their country's
welfare. The would-be promoters of Liberal phantasies
among Oriental peoples are like missionaries who en-
deavour to convert the Chinese — only the missionaries do
no serious harm, whereas the visionaries who hailed the
setting up of Enver Pasha as a triumph for Western
civilisation strengthened Germany and damaged the
whole world.

Disraeli was absolutely right in 1878 to stand by the
Turk, as the Turk then was. What the Russian is we
now know, what the German is almost passes the bounds
of imagination.

The Bulgarians are hardly superior to their late allies
in human qualities. The old Turk may have been no
saint, but at least he was vastly better than any of the
ruffians just mentioned, and as I write this I remember
a pantomime at Leeds in which kings and queens of
England were introduced in procession. Last came
Queen Victoria, a chubby little girl, who sang the refrain
of MacDermott's then popular war song, with splendid
effect — striking one small hand on the other vigorously
over the prohibitory line :

The Russians shan't have Constantinople.

Yes, it was all fixed up for the best at that tune, for
Russia has been a world danger for many a year, and
Germany ever since 1870. Turkey was roped into this
war by Enver and his German associates. No genuine
Turk has any animosity towards England.

I am writing, as it seems, in an atmosphere of past and
present, but I remember those old days so well and how
the bogus agitation about Bulgarian atrocities was con-
ducted in the Midlothian Campaign, and I would fain
say a word for the poor, coerced Turk, in whatever the
forthcoming settlement of Europe may be.

250 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Joseph Griffiths had left Cobham in 1878 and gone as
stud groom to Lord Rosebery. We then secured Bowman,
who had been for fifteen years stud groom to Lord
Falmouth — a sufficient credential in all conscience — and
I, who had begun for the first time in my life to under-
stand that money is a serious item, bestirred myself even
in Leeds to effect economies in the Stud Company's
expenses. The so-called foal disease had enormously
diminished the probable return for the following year.
Blair Athol at 200 guineas had not got anything like a
full subscription list, and the last declared dhddend had
not been paid. We were six directors at £200 a year each ;
secretary and office, £300 a year; manager (then at the
bigger house, Cobham Lodge), £1000 a year; rent of
manager's house, £300, and purchase of furniture (from
memory) £1700. Then there was the debenture debt
of £40,000 at 10 per cent., with 2| commission to Hume
Webster, which last charge alone meant paying £5000
a year before the shareholders could get anything.
What a splendid property the stud really was may be
clearly shown from the way in which it had supported
this burden, and still to all outward semblance was
going strong.

CHAPTER XXIV

A General Meeting of the Stud Company Ltd.— My Effort to
save the Company — Frustrated — Disastrous Change of
Auctioneer — Liquidation — Final Sale — All Debts paid —
Shareholders get Nothing — Work at the Bar — The Thirsk
Election Petition — How I was instructed— The Teetotal
Witness and the " Old Jamaica ?> — Evidence of Tom Palliser
— His Wrath against Mr Justice Denman — " A singularly
pure Election" — Origin of the Fox-terrier Club — Judging
at Nottingham — Difficulties Accumulate

NOT unnaturally there was an angry General
Meeting of shareholders of the Stud Company
Ltd. Edward Beall, a solicitor, whose various
vicissitudes may be still remembered, had been supplied
with a share by someone who wished to cause trouble,
and, of course, he sent a circular to the shareholders with
forms of proxy inviting them to assist in an attack on
the directors. However, Sir Charles Legard was a cap-
able chairman, and we easily held our own. I remember
writing some stuff for The Sporting Times on the subject
of that meeting. It was in the form of operatic libretto,
and one of our assailants was supposed to sing a solo,
some words of which I still remember :

Whereas this base Directing crew

Exist at our expense ;
And, though incompetent, they do

Obtain a Competence ;
We censure them for want of sense,

And, with our votes' dread might,
To right-about direct them hence

For not Directing right.

Evidently the opposition was of a trifling character,
or I should not have written about the meeting in that

251

252 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

style. But the trouble was none the less very serious,
and I had by this time realised it as none of the other
directors or the manager appeared to have done. I
succeeded in carrying resolutions at a Board meeting
that the directors should forgo the whole of their fees,
that the secretary should be reduced one half, and that
the manager should receive half-a-year's salary and be
dispensed with altogether.

Lord Falmouth, I argued, had needed no manager
other than Bowman, who was now our stud groom.
What more was needed than that a director should go
down to Cobham every week, to see that all was going on
weU?

These resolutions being carried, I went back to Leeds,
thinking that the Company was saved.

But the vested interests proved too strong. Another
meeting was called which I was unable to attend ; the
resolutions were rescinded and it was decided that
the manager should remain on at half salary and that the
directors should have half fees. This was no remedy
at all, and, as I told the manager, he had far better have
cleared out with £500 in his pocket when the Company
was ostensibly a great success than hang on and thus be
connected with a failure which was certainly impending.
Had he gone, people would have said that all would
have been well had he remained. However, he would not
or could not see the matter in this light, and I was more
or less powerless, away at Leeds ; so the Company went
on floundering to its doom.

The final touch was given when it was decided to
employ Mr Herbert Rymill as auctioneer for the yearling
sale of 1879.

The reason of this was curious. Messrs Tattersall
had for the past year or two been somewhat victimised
by yearling buyers who failed to pay, and they proposed
in the future to charge 10 per cent, commission on all
lots for which they gave delivery orders. Other lots,
whose buyers paid cash, were to be at 5 per cent, com-

FATAL AND FINAL SALES 253

mission. This struck the directors of the Stud Company
as an unreasonable demand, and, as stated above, the
business was transferred to Mr Rymill, an excellent
auctioneer, but unknown in that capacity to bloodstock
buyers. The result was disastrous, for every likely buyer
thought he would have to pay money down for everything
he bought, though, as a matter of fact, Mr Rymill was
quite ready to open accounts with any well-known men,
and had provided £5000 to enable him to finance the sale
to the satisfaction of everybody. Buyers fought shy, and
the total realised for 56 yearlings was only 10,700
guineas, not half the 22,070 guineas which had been
totalled at the sale of the year before. Such a drop
as this coming on the top of an already dubious financial
situation was fatal, and whenever I hear people com-
plaining of Messrs Tattersall's monopoly as auctioneers
of bloodstock I always call to mind that one object-lesson.

A meeting of the Company was summoned, and a volun-
tary liquidation was decided on. There was no real
trouble with outside liabilities, but things were going
from bad to worse and there was no use in carrying on,
even if it had been possible.

It was later on ordered that the liquidation should be
under the supervision of the court, and the court con-
tinued Mr Rymill in the position of auctioneer at the
final sale.

This time he was far more successful, for there were
many foreign buyers. One hundred brood mares came
under the hammer, and forty-seven foals. Blair Athol,
then eighteen years old, and Wild Oats were among the
stallions. The total realised was 53,150 guineas, which
sufficed to pay off the debentures and all other debts.
The shareholders got nothing. Perhaps I should not say
that, for I, who was the principal shareholder, had got
experience which in later years proved that the money
lost by me had not been wasted.

I find that I even wrote some few lines on the subject
of the Stud Company :

254 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

?Twas but a Company — a soulless thing —

Its only sympathy a common seal ;
But to its memory my mind will cling,

And happy dreams of it will o'er me steal,
Deep burying every care and cruel sting

Which those who loved it most had most to feel ;
Forgetting, too, finance, and unplaced shares,

And want of money and excess of mares.

Cobham, with all thy faults — no, let me stay,

I will not weary with a stale remark ; —
But I did love thee ; and on many a day

I've gladly gazed and mused from dawn to dark
Upon thy varied beauties ; none can say

That truer friend than I e'er trod thy park.
Enough ; 'tis past ; and men behold in me

A Being strange, who loved a Company.

Where those lines were published I really don't remem-
ber— probably in The Sporting Times — but the editor of
The Bloodstock Breeders' Review dug them up from some-
where, and stated, by way of comment : " The tempera-
ment of a luckless shareholder who can exploit the Muse
in that fashion is, indeed, one to be envied."

So Cobham passes out of my picture for quite a number
of years, and I was faced for the first time with the bed-
rock realities of life, everything having gone wrong as
regards finance, so that I had been quickly denuded of
many thousands not merely through the Stud Company
but in many other directions which need not here be gone
into.

I took stock of what the local Bar at Leeds might in
its best development result in, and I found it to be a
possibility of about £2000 a year. This, with the draw-
back of living one's life at Leeds, did not seem good enough
by any means, for I had a, doubtless, overrated view of
my own abilities, and it did not take long to decide that
I must come to London and have chambers at the Temple.
I was a member of the Junior Carlton Club, and, I don't
mind confessing now, had high political ambitions.
The next two or three years brought the grinding process

CHAMBERS AT: THE TEMPLE 255

which was destined to show whether the years spent
on education had left me with any valuable qualities
to the good. It was at least something to realise one's
own ignorance and incapacity, and how the passing of
examinations does not for a moment fit you for the rough-
and-tumble of life. That much I soon understood ; but
real work is very hard indeed for those who have never
known what it is to work, except spasmodically, and in
getting down to a genuine working groove I found the
effort rather bitter. Work came along fairly well — quite
as well as it does for any extreme junior at the Bar. In
those days the Law Courts were at Westminster, and I once
held a brief there as junior to Sir Edward Clarke — I am
sure I forget what it was about, but I know the solicitor
was a little old man named Charles Eustace Goldring.
Also I had a slice or two of Parliamentary practice — on one
occasion with Sir Edmund Beckett — " Clocky " Denison
(the late Lord Grimthorpe) — the late Mr Hume Williams,
and the late Mr Sylvester. I was the junior of the lot,
and had thirty guineas, and five guineas on my brief,
with ten guineas refresher each day and five guineas con-
sultation. The case was that of the Beverley Water
Works, which some infatuated persons opposed, and
the proceedings went on five or six days both before
the Commons' arid the Lords' Committees. It was the
pleasantest, easiest and most remunerative work I had
ever done, for instead of having laboriously to take a note
of the evidence for your leaders you find all this done
by shorthand writers and ready printed next morning.

More profitable still, however, is a brief in an election
petition, and I had experience of that too, when there was
a petition against the election of the late Colonel Dawnay
for Thirsk. I, of course, was briefed because I knew all
the people concerned and could tell my leaders more than
the solicitor dared to do in his instructions.

In point of fact, the late Quintin Rhodes, son of my
original old friend, mentioned earlier in this book, had
carried the war so far into the enemy's camp that from

256 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

contiguous premises he had contrived what King James I.
called a " Lug," and in it he could both hear and see what
went on in the office of Mr Cass, the petitioner's solicitor.
He revealed these secrets to me and to me only, and one
of them — a really lovely one — concerned a leading light
of Nonconformity and teetotalism who was a witness
for the petitioner. He had been seen and heard in Mr
Cass's office when his " proof " was being settled, and he
had been invited to take a drink. He had at first refused,
but the solicitor had said : " What ! Not some old
Jamaica ? " and had produced a bottle. This had proved
too much for the total abstainer, who succumbed to the
temptation and drank. Now I had all details of the
incident and wrote them down. My leader received the
memo, somewhat sceptically, and I could not explain, but
assured him it was right ; so he proceeded to ask the
witness if he had been supplied with drink in Mr Cass's
office. This he indignantly denied, saying : "I have
never tasted whisky, gin, rum, ale or anything else for
seven and twenty years." (Laughter.}

Instantly there came the question in the exact words
that had been used by Mr Cass : " What ! Not some
old Jamaica ? "

This so startled the witness that he fairly broke down,
believing that Cass had given him away, while Cass, on
his part, evidently regarded the witness as a traitor. This
was but one of many similar instances in which my secret
information enabled our side to dumbfound the witnesses
for the petitioner.

The most amusing incident of all, however, was the
examination of our old Kilvington factotum, Tom Palliser,
to whose long career of drunkenness I have already called
attention. Never in his life had he dreamed of voting
other than " Blue," and, being the oldest inhabitant,
he had been asked, when Colonel Dawnay came to canvass
at Kilvington, to show the party round to the various
voters. He was given half-a-crown for his trouble, and it
was urged that this was a bribe. He had gone away after

AN INSULTED DRUNKARD 257

the election to near Huddersfield, where he had a married
daughter, and the contention was that he had been sent
there to keep out of the way. Anyhow, he was served with
a witness summons and given one pound conduct money.
He arrived in the witness-box in a semi-insolent state
of intoxication, and made defiant answers to questions
about who had canvassed him. Then, to quote from the
report which I have before me :

JUSTICE DENMAN : "You have recollected several that you
said you could not remember at first. Tell us all. You are in
considerable peril of being sent to prison. "•

'-'• Indeed, sir ! il

" Yes ; you are.'-1

Then came a long series of questions about the half-
crown, and presently Mr Atherley Jones, for the petitioner,
asked :

" Did you tell Mr Thompson that you would not give the name
of the person who gave you the half-crown until you came here ? "•

" No. He made me blind drunk." (Laughter.)

" What did you say to Thompson when he asked you about
the half-crown ? "•

" I don't know what I said, because he made me blind drunk.'2

" Were you drunk when he asked you ? "

" I should think I was ! " (Laughter.)

JUSTICE LOPES : "- What did you have to drink ? "

'-I don't know. I drank anything.5' (Renewed laughter.)

'' Will you swear that money was not provided for you to go
away with ? "-

" No, sir, it was not. Why the deuce should I have their
money ? I have money of my own ! I don't like to be ' put on -
so very much.'2 (Renewed laughter.)

" I never heard of the subpoena until it was served on me at
Meltham [near Huddersfield], and they gave me a sovereign at
the same tune ; and I got very drunk that day. (Laughter.) It
was not suggested to me that I should go away. I went of my
own accord."

'-' You were at the Fleece Hotel on the day of the election ? «

*' Yes.'J

-" And were you drunk on that day ? '-'•

"- Yes. I was drunk at three o'clock."

258 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! >v

" Where did you get drunk ? "

" In the town. The same places that others get drunk. I get
drunk whenever I have the chance. "

JUSTICE DENMAN : " You need not make yourself out a greater
blackguard than you are."

" I am not a blackguard, sir."

The above is all from the printed report, but I remember
most clearly that Mr Justice Denman pursued his theme,
and said :

'-'- Yes, you are ; a great blackguard, by your own admission."
To which Tom Palliser responded :
" Why, mebbe aboot that ! "

I suggested the cross-examination of him, and it runs
thus in the report :

" I have been a voter for forty-three years in the borough.
During all that time I have supported the ' blues.' That is
well known. The gentlemen gave me half-a-crown for going
round Kilvington with them. No reference was made to my
vote. It took me an hour or more to show them where the voters
lived."

On leaving the box he went away mumbling to himself,
and more than once looking back defiantly at Mr Justice
Denman. The court was just rising for lunch, and I was
fearful that he might get himself into some sort of trouble,
so went out after him.

On seeing me he at once asked :

" Whea was yon au'd chap 'at called me a blackguard ?
Ar'd have gi'en him a bit o' lip if he'd said owt more te me ! '-'-

He had never been in any but a Magistrates' court
before, and seemed to think the judges were merely clerks
or other officers of the court. I warned him to be very
careful or he would be imprisoned for contempt before he
knew where he was. He was highly indignant, however,

ORIGIN OF THE FOX-TERRIER CLUB 259

at the way he had been treated, for to him — as can be
seen from his evidence — drunkenness was merely an
agreeable condition, and the idea of it involving black-
guardism was too preposterous to entertain for a
moment.

The proceedings on the petition lasted for two days, and
finally the petition was dismissed with costs, Mr Justice
Lopes saying it " had been an unusually pure election,"
and Mr Justice Denman added that it was " a frivolous
petition recklessly conducted."

Had they known or had the petitioners known all that
I knew the decision might have been — must have been —
different, but all was well that ended well.

For the edification of total abstainers I may say here
that Tom Palliser lived to be ninety years of age and was
always in robust health.

It was, I think, a year or two before the time of this
remarkable election petition that the Fox-terrier Club
was formed, and this was done at a dinner given by Mr
Harding Cox at his house in Russell Square, where eight
or ten of the leading owners of fox-terriers were the guests.
A committee was formed to draw up and settle the points
of a fox-terrier, and I was deputed to prepare the pre-
liminary draft. This I did, and sent copies round to the
other members of the committee for them to make
observations and emendations. When I had got these
back I had to make a new draft assimilating, so far as I
thought desirable, all the suggestions, and after this also
had gone the round of the committee I was able to
settle a draft, which was eventually agreed on at a
meeting.

The points of the fox-terrier, as accepted at the present
day by the Fox-terrier Club, have been very little altered
since that time. Tom Scott, Bassett, Doyle, Redmond
and various others were on that committee : and the
Club itself soon introduced several novelties, such as
Produce Stakes. Here again I drafted the original
conditions ; and went to more ambitious lengths by

260 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

starting a serial publication of " The Law relating to
Dogs," which appeared in several of the early issues of
The Kennel Club Gazette.

It was quite useful, and sound as far as it went, but I
somehow got tired of doing it and allowed it to drop
before it was half finished. A young barrister of the
present day might do worse than to pursue this idea,
for people are constantly having trouble with dogs and
very few understand the law in that connection.

I suppose I must have been an acceptable judge of
fox-terriers, for on one occasion at Nottingham Show,
the exhibitors on making their entries were invited to
name two judges whom they would like to act. This
resulted in there being a majority of votes for me and
Mr Peter Pilgrim, a well-known breeder. It by no means
followed, however, that our awards satisfied the exhibitors,
one of whom, T. Wootton of Mapperley, wrote me :

When next you and Peter Pilgrim judge, singly or in couples,
I will not be there to see !

God bless you and your Jesters, first, second and third !

We had placed one of Wootton's terriers third instead
of first, and I think later shows justified the award, but
anyhow it is mere childishness for an exhibitor to attack
the judges.

I replied to the letter :

Oh, may your wishes be complete,

My dogs and I be blest ! —

So, following on Pilgrim's feet,

In Heaven we'll find our rest.

Then, whether coupled or alone

Judicial deeds I dare,

That once you !ve spoken truth I '11 own :

You never Will be there.

That terminated the incident and I had no more com-
plaints from Mr Wootton, who was in some respects a
remarkable character. His advertisements of fox-terriers

PROSPECTS BAD 261

for sale are worth looking up by anyone with old copies
of The Field. Most of such terriers were :

" True, tried and trusted : the companions in many
a wild adventure, from the rat in the gutter to the badger
in the brake."

All had splendid pedigrees, but that was before the days
of the Kennel Club Stud-book.

I had little chance of sport or even of dog-showing for
some years after setting to work in London. Hunting
and shooting were for me at an end, and in 1878 and 1879
I did not even see the Derby. My own mares had drifted
into the ownership of Hume- Webster, and the various
animals that I had been interested in as lessor — viz.
Miss Costa, the Gowan, Despotism, etc. — had proved
unlucky so far as I was concerned, though they were smart
enough afterwards. Someone bought Memorandum for
me for 300 guineas after he had won a selling race at
Sandown Park in 1877. No one was authorised to do so,
and I was at Leeds, but this thing was done, and I was
saddled with what was an obviously injudicious purchase.
Edwin Parr, who had trained Lord Clifden, trained
Memorandum for me at Stoughton, and all but won a
race with him at Alexandra Park, when we had £50 on
him and he was beaten a short head ; but he never did
any good after that, and later, when I leased him to
Charles Lund at Malton, he only went from bad to worse.

Altogether, things began to look pretty bad, and there
was the fear always before me that it would be impossible
to make good at the Bar in time to prevent real trouble.

CHAPTER XXV

Fresh Work — The Staff Corps and Indian Army Fund — Blair
Athol (the book) — The Whitehall Review— Edward Legge —
My First Mentor in Journalism — I attract Willoughby May-
cock — Death of Lord Beaconsfield — Gladstonian Disasters —
Mrs Langtry — Belt v. Lawes — Great Scene in Court — I
make Belt's Acquaintance — Friends from that Day —
Iroquois and Pincus — End of the old Whitehall Review —
I start St Stephen's Review

LONG before the period I am dealing with I had been
writing odds and ends for the Press, without any
idea of being paid for such work. " The Tale of a
Horse " appeared in The Sporting Times, before I was
married, as also did "The Sport of Shooting" in The
Bird of Freedom, another of John Corlett's papers. I
now began to write a book, Blair Athol, and also took on
a job as secretary to the Staff Corps and Indian Army
Fund, which necessitated minute knowledge of all the
many rules and regulations relative to the Pensions
and Retirement of officers in the Indian Military Service,
as well as the Furlough and Leave Rules. Somehow this
work suited me well, and it may perhaps be best described
by the letter which the late General Spence was good
enough to write after the objects of the movement had
been attained, and my occupation was at an end :

30 COLVILLE TERRACE,
BAYS WATER.

22nd May, 1882.

v
The Staff Corps and Indian A rmy Fund for procuring a

revision of Pension and Retirement Regulations
The Committee of the above Fund having closed their pro-
ceedings and adjourned sine die, it remains for me, as their
Chairman, to discharge the pleasing duty of noting the able and

262

STAFF CORPS AND INDIAN ARMY 263

zealous manner in which the work of the Committee was carried
out by their excellent Secretary, Mr W. Allison, Barrister-at-Law,
from the time the movement was set on foot. In the first place,
Mr Allison had to make himself acquainted with the numerous
Rules and Regulations issued at different times through a long
series of years relative to the Pensions and Retirement of Officers
of the Indian Military Service, as well as the Furlough and Leave
Rules, which had undergone so many alterations from time to
time. This of itself was a heavy task, involving a considerable
amount of research and reading up, and how completely Mr
Allison had mastered those subjects was evidenced by the many
letters and articles written by him and published in some of the
leading London journals, and also in the Indian newspapers, in
which he showed most clearly and convincingly the absolute
necessity for an increase in the scale of retiring Pensions and for a
longer period of Furlough and Leave being allowed to count as
service for Pensions. It was intended that all Officers concerned
in the matter should individually petition Parliament on the
subject, and to enable every Officer to frame his own Petition
correctly, in accordance with his standing and position in the
service, Mr Allison drew up and issued detailed instructions for
guidance in every case, and though the promulgation of a revised
scale of Pensions put a stop to the submission of these Petitions,
Mr Allison was not less entitled to the credit of having framed such
clear and comprehensive instructions for their preparation.

As Chairman of the Committee I have been in more frequent
communication with the Secretary, both personally and by letter,
than any of my colleagues, and nothing could exceed the willing
and prompt attention bestowed by him at all times upon any
suggestions that were brought under consideration, so that
business was always discussed and disposed of most harmoniously,
and I can say without hesitation that no Committee, associated
as we have been, could have had the assistance of a better qualified
or more accomplished Secretary than Mr Allison has been to us.
And as I am of opinion that whatever benefit has resulted from
the movement is mainly due to the exertions of Mr Allison and
the ability with which he advocated the cause, I consider that not
only the Committee, but also the Officers of the Service generally,
owe him a debt of gratitude, and I hope he may have many
opportunities of proving his fitness for similar employment.
Y. J. R. SPENCE, Lt. -General.

Chairman of the Committee.

I received a testimonial of a substantial sort, and had
finished the book, Blair Athol, before the date of General

264 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Spence's letter. Messrs Chapman & Hall, without any
demur, agreed to publish it, and it came out in a three-
volume edition, all of which was disposed of within a
fortnight. This was remunerative enough, and I, later on,
by the advice of Mr Chapman, sold the book to Messrs
Routledge, who did many editions of it as a yellow-back,
with a portrait of Blair Athol, by Sturgess, on the front
cover.

My attendance in the Law Courts now grew slacker,
for I seemed to have found a quicker way of making the
necessary income, and about this time I was introduced
to Edward Legge, of The Whitehall Review, and cheerfully
undertook to write a sporting article for that paper and
to help him generally with any amount of other matter
that might be required. The World and Truth used to
revile The Whitehall Review, principally because it was
financed by an egg merchant, but Legge was a thoroughly
capable editor and I learned a very great deal from
him.

It almost invariably happens when anyone writes
about racing for the first time he selects winners in
remarkable fashion, and I was no exception to this rule,
insomuch that my successes attracted the attention of
Willoughby Maycock (now Sir), and that was how I first
came to know him. He wrote to ask me to do the weekly
leader for a little paper he was bringing out, and this I
gladly undertook.

As for The Whitehall Review, I became really interested
in that paper and had now, of course, resumed my visits
to the principal races. Never did I see such an astound-
ing result as when Bend Or beat Robert the Devil for the
Derby of that year. It was really almost incredible
to anyone who had a good broadside view of them from
the hill, for Robert the Devil was like a hare running away
from a lot of terriers until there came that paralysing
finish.

On the Bend Or-Tadcaster objection which followed I
wrote the following for the Whitehall : —

BEND OR AND TADCASTER 265

Bend Or and Tadcaster, 'twas said,

The names at first were fixed ;
But. like the twins of which we've read,

The horses got quite mixed.

And so by boys — too prone to err —

Or else by Arnold's whim,
Bend Or was changed with Tadcaster,

And Tadcaster with him.

Such fruit the strange confusion bore,

When races soon were run,
That, though the public backed Bend Or,

'Twas Tadcaster that won.

But most our wonderment awakes

At this part of the fable —
That Bend Or won the Derby Stakes

While standing in his stable !

And, though that fiction seems the worst,

By this it may be matched —
'Twas Tadcaster that came in first

Although he had been scratched !

The stewards decided that objection in favour of Bend
Or, but Mr James Lowther in later years told me that from
what had then come to his knowledge he believed their
decision was wrong.

The truth appears to be that a mistake was really made
when the yearlings were sent to the late Robert Sherwood
to break, and, when they went to Robert Peck at Russley,
the mistake was not rectified until Colonel Barlow, the
Duke of Westminster's master of horse, arrived at Russley
to see them galloped, and he, knowing the colts from their
foalhood, discovered the error and had them put in their
right places. This I know from " Geordie " Spencer, the
man who assisted Sherwood in the breaking of them, and
subsequently " did " them at Russley. He used to write
their names on the sand in front of the doors of their
boxes, and after Colonel Barlow's visit, Robert Peck came

266 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

and brushed out the names, telling him they were wrong
and had to be transposed.

It was on account of The Whitehall Review that I first
went to see Sir Thomas Lennard and the Belhus hunters,
which in those days he used to get together for an annual
sale. A rare good sportsman he was. Those visits used
to be most enjoyable as bringing back something of the
old life. Moreover, he had Prince Charlie standing at
Belhus Park for a season or two.

As an instance of the variety of our work on The White-
hall Review, I recall that I wrote the article on the death
of Lord Beaconsfield, in 1881, and I never put more
genuine sentiments of sorrow into any article, for I had
always looked on the dead leader as immeasurably superior
to every other statesman of the century, and, beyond that,
his whole career and his books appealed to me very
strongly. His very motto — Forti nihil difficile — is a
friend in need when you are down on your luck. I have
made many pilgrimages to Hughenden Manor, just to
think quietly about Disraeli.

But mournful subjects were not greatly in vogue with
us, and the editor and I wrote the whole of a Christmas
Number, entitled Our Golden Youth, which was not half
a bad one. Moreover, we brought out a coloured cartoon,
which went like wildfire. The subject was a Design for
a Memorial Window. Gladstone and Bradlaugh were
represented as mediaeval saints, one holding the Bible
and the other Fruits of Philosophy. It was at the
time when there was all the row on about Bradlaugh and
his oath, and he was supported by Gladstone.

The superscription of the two figures in the cartoon was
" Sanctus Sanctissimus," and the underline : " By their
fruits ye shall know them."

It would not seem a striking cartoon now, by any means,
but it took the town by storm at that time, being, as it
was, a welcome novelty.

The Gladstone Government had come into power in the
spring of 1880. Lord Beaconsfield had been Premier

GLADSTONE AND MAJUBA 267

for over six years, during which the Zulu and Afghan
Wars were very arduous enterprises. I shall never forget
hearing for the first time the newspaper boys shouting :
" Awful slaughter ! Heavy fighting ! " as they rushed
down the streets.

This was when the news of the Isandula disaster had
just been received. We have grown so accustomed now
to such news cries that they are hardly noticed.

In the Afghan War Lord Roberts had established a
reputation which all the later actions of his life served
only to strengthen.

Then came in the Gladstone Government and, as by a
magician's wand, the whole aspect of affairs was changed.
The good that had been done in Afghanistan was deliber-
ately undone, and the Boers who had been saved from
the Zulus now seized the opportunity to declare their
independence. This was followed, in the spring of 1881,
by Majuba Hill, and Gladstone's decision not to fight any
more, for fear of bloodguiltiness. Lord Roberts, who had
been sent out with a sufficient force to effect a final
settlement, was recalled, and a patched-up suzerainty
was agreed on which rendered the future Boer War only
a question of time.

Lord Randolph Churchill was beginning to come to the
front in Parliament in those days, though Jacob Bright
was supposed to have said something very much to the
point when by a pretended mistake he spoke of " the
noble Lord " as the Member for " Woodcock " instead
of Woodstock. Trouble was brewing in Egypt, where
again the hopeless Gladstonian weakness and vacillation
were destined to produce a plentiful crop of misfortune.
Altogether there was much to turn men's minds to active
thoughts of public life, for since the time of the Crimean
War our country had been suffered to go on in humdrum
fashion, not even venturing to intervene when the Prussians
annexed Schleswig-Holstein, though it would have been
possible then to check at its source the cancerous
growth which has since grown so widely over Europe,

268 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

and has at last had to be cut out by years of devastating
war.

The Zulu, Afghan and first Boer Wars had at least
dispelled British apathy to a considerable extent, and for
my part I longed for a chance to really gird at the Glad-
stonians if only it were possible : but The Whitehall Review
was not much of a medium for such efforts. In fact, the
society side of it was overdone. Legge had — as he has
since demonstrated in several excellent books — very
considerable sources of information about royal person-
ages, not only of this country, but also, in particular,
the Empress Eugenie and the late Empress of Austria.
Almost too much of this went into the paper ; and the
opposition dubbed the editor " Whitehall Jenkins."

Nevertheless I remember we published a very favourable
critique of Mrs Langtry, when she first appeared on a
stage, and this she did in company with Mrs Labouchere.
Nothing that Truth had written about " Whitehall
Jenkins " marred The Whitehall Review's full appreciation
of that performance.

It was shortly afterwards that I first met Mrs Langtry,
and we have been very good friends ever since, though my
sphere of influence was diverted to her horses after she
had taken to racing ; and I never posed seriously as a
dramatic critic.

Little did I dream at the time under notice that I
should long afterwards buy for her an Australian horse
(Merman) with which to win the Cesarewitch, and that he
would win it.

Another friend I made in 1881, and that was Richard
Belt, the sculptor, whose work was then all the rage,
and it was Queen Victoria's wish that caused his relief
profile of Lord Beaconsfield to be placed over the tablet
in Hughenden Church. It is an old story how the great
and increasing success of Belt led to attacks by jealous
rivals, whose libels were published in Vanity Fair, the
gist of them being that he did not himself execute the
works which purported to be his, but employed a " ghost,"

BELT v. LAWES 269

who was the real artist. This culminated in the famous
libel case of Belt v. Lawes, and I, who still frequented the
Law Courts whenever I had time, was present from start
to finish of that case. I was not personally acquainted
with the sculptor at that time, but grew more and more
convinced, as the case proceeded, that he had been grossly
maligned. It was decided, half-way through the case,
that he should give a practical demonstration of his ability
by modelling a bust of a man named Pagliatti in one of
the rooms of the court. This test was carried out, and
never shall I forget the " sensation in court " when the
bust was brought in on a tray, with Pagliatti walking
alongside it.

Instantly there was almost deafening applause. People
sprang up and shouted ' ' Bravo ! " I question if such a noise
was ever heard in a law court. Quiet was not restored
for a very long time. The bust was so good that the
jury's verdict was certain from the moment they saw it.
That verdict was, of course, for Belt,*with very heavy
damages and costs against Lawes. It is ancient history
now how the latter, after a fruitless appeal, and being
mulcted in further costs, went bankrupt and never paid
a farthing. I mention this case because it was the occa-
sion of my introducing myself, as a stranger, to Richard
Belt, for I was anxious to tell him how thoroughly I
sympathised with him in all the annoyance and trouble
to which he had been subjected, and how glad I was that
his assailants had been so signally routed. He and I
have been friends since that day, and never more so than
when his enemies, some few years after the trial, brought
trouble on him by a most nefarious scheme, of which in
course of time full confession was made and such redress
as was possible offered. The conspiracy against poor Belt
broke his health, but it could not kill his genius, and he
never did anything finer than his bust of Lord Kitchener,
which was exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1917 and
now stands on the Grand Staircase at the War Office.

In that year, 1881, Peregrine won the 2000 Guineas,

270 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

and raised hopes that the Beadsman male line, which
had flourished so abundantly with the Palmer, Rosi-
crucian, Blue Gown, Green Sleeves and Pero Gomez
more than ten years earlier, had now come to stay, but
all was not well with Peregrine, and the American-bred
Iroquois beat him for the Derby.

Jacob Pincus, the trainer of Iroquois, was very crude
in his methods at that time. He would even give the colt
a strong gallop after a race if the running had not been
to his mind; but as Iroquois had a great constitution,
no harm was done, and the Prince of Wales' Stakes at
Ascot and the St Leger both followed on the Derby
victory. Pincus became very popular at Newmarket,
and ultimately took to living there and training a horse
or two of his own, nor was there ever a more genuine
manifestation of public approval than when he ran his
whole stable one afternoon at headquarters and won a
race with each of them.

Iroquois was a lithe, hardy, clean-limbed horse, and
he must have had an iron constitution to stand knocking
about as he did. He did little or no good, however, at
the stud when he returned to America.

It may have been judged that my existence in 1881
was a somewhat hand-to-mouth one, for we had now two
children, and life's little worries had thus accumulated.
It had been a nasty jar to drop from a pinnacle of what I
thought such easy possibilities of success to the curious
mix-up of work in which I was now intermittently engaged,
but I had not lost faith in myself all the same, and was
inclined to adopt the " A time will come ! " attitude.
It happened, however, that the worthy egg merchant
took upon himself to dispose of The Whitehall Review,
and whoever was the new proprietor did not make terms
with the editor, so Legge retired, and I was left for a
week or two to imagine that the post had devolved on
me. I did, in fact, edit the paper during what was
simply an interregnum, and then my tenure of office
also came to an end. A new staff came in, and all I

Sr STEPHEN'S REVIEW 271

can say of them is that the paper never did any good
afterwards.

Being now equipped with fair knowledge how to edit
a paper, and being filled with a burning desire to attack
the Gladstonian Government and all its works effectively,
I determined by hook or by crook to start a new paper,
subject to no control but my own, and this idea took shape,
after a lot of strenuous, and often disappointing, work
in St Stephen's Review.

CHAPTER XXVI

St Stephen's Review — A Desperate Adventure — Never subsidised
by the Party — Less than £500 Capital — Mr Grantham, Q.C.,
a Director — Photographs reproduced in Germany — Lord
Marcus Beresford and Mr George Lambton — Others who
wrote — Mr Gladstone advertises us — How we followed this
up — Mr Gladstone's ^100 — Mr Joseph Chamberlain's ^250 —
Beauty Competition— A Libellous Sub-Editor — He libels
my Friend, Edward Legge — Mr Grantham advises — We
lose heavily — First Meeting with Phil May

1HAD seen both Shotover and St Blaise win the
Derby before my plans for St Stephen's Review were
sufficiently matured, and both these animals were
extremely lucky to win. Bruce should beyond all ques-
tion have beaten Shotover, but his jockey, " Thammy "
Mordan, declared that he shied at a piece of paper. It is
equally certain that Galliard was a better horse than
St Blaise, and it was said that Galliard's defeat led to
Lord Falmouth's decision to sell his horses, but this his
lordship afterwards denied.

The St Stephen's Review project moved slowly, and had
I known as much about newspapers as I do now it would
have never gone through at all. I got the nominal
support of most of the influential members of the party,
but the arrangement of finance was another matter
altogether. There are many people who would be greatly
interested even now to know the financial history of
St Stephen's Review, but I am only concerned to state
here that the Conservative party had from first to last
nothing to do with it. Never a penny of the party
money found its way to my paper. Mr Akers-Douglas
was the patronage secretary all the time, and he
knows that the above statement is strictly true. Captain
R. W. Middleton is dead, or he also would verify the

272

THE PAPER AND THE " PARTY " 273

statement. Sometimes they would buy our cartoons at
five pounds per thousand for election purposes, but that
was a mere matter of business and depended on whether
they liked the cartoon. Never once in the history of the
paper was advice asked from the party as to what the
subject of a cartoon should be. These subjects were
always chosen at a weekly meeting of members of
the staff and, after discussion, decided on by myself
alone.

Seven years is a big slice to take out of anyone's life,
and I want to make it clear that I did not spend seven
years on St Stephen's Review as a party hack. I was a
masterless man throughout, as I have been — perhaps
unfortunately — all my life, save that I made the memory
of Disraeli my master — or mentor — and no paper
ever attacked certain aspects of " mutton-headed "
Conservatism more violently than did 52 Stephen's
Review.

To tell the truth, I thought my time had come and that
I had the ball at my feet if once I could " get a move on "
with this paper, and it so chanced that other people came
to entertain the same opinion, as the paper progressed,
but I will now give the somewhat startling information
that I started St Stephens Review with less than £500
in the bank. This was the subscribed capital of a Limited
Company, of which Mr Grantham, Q.C., afterwards
Mr Justice Grantham, was one of the directors, and I am
sure he had no more idea than I had of the cost of running
a newspaper. St Stephen's Review was to be printed on
costly paper by Ballantyne, Hanson & Co . It could hardly
be produced for less than £150 a week, and yet we " jumped
off," on I7th March 1883.

This initial fact is so remarkable, having regard to the
time which the paper was destined to run, that I cannot
too strongly emphasise once more my definite statement
that it never received any financial support from the
Conservative party.

Assistance from the purely journalistic point of view

274 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

I often received, for I or the sub-editor would go almost
every week to Downing Street before the paper went to
Press, and Mr Akers-Douglas used to tell us any little
items of news that he thought fit to communicate. In
that way was the paper beholden to the party and in
no other.

A complaint was once made to the Committee of the
Junior Carlton about a St Stephen's Review cartoon
which reflected on a member of the Government. I
was a member of the club, but the committee, in their
wisdom, took no action.

The motto chosen for St Stephen's Review was :

Nothing extenuate nor set down aught in malice,

and that was faithfully adhered to, though we were
defendants in certain strange cases about which I shall
have something to say. The life of the paper, however,
covered a very interesting period, and in this present book
I can give no more than a brief sketch of it. This point
alone is worth a note — that when after a few months we
found it necessary to give the portraits of people who
formed the subjects of principal articles, it was impossible
to get photographs reproduced on blocks except by sending
them to Germany. This necessitated a delay of at least
three weeks and would have been totally needless had it
not been for the apathy which free imports had caused
in this country.

Those blocks when they came from Germany were
atrociously bad, but such as they were we produced them,
and they were appreciated. Compare such a production
now with one of the lovely things that appear in Country
Life Illustrated and it is easy indeed to see what a change
the " whirligig of time " has brought.

The staff of St Stephen's Review, both literary and
artistic, was always a good one, and it may be a surprise
to many to know that, as I had to spread myself as editor,
I did not write the sporting stuff, except on emergency,

A STAFF OF THE BEST 275

and got none but the best to do it. Lord Marcus Beres-
ford did a great deal of it (marvellously well) over the
signature of " Aliquis," and Mr George Lambton also
played a considerable part as a racing contributor on the
special recommendation of Mr James Lowther.

Lord Colin Campbell was among the earliest members
of the staff, and he was editing with most careful research,
at the British Museum, a whole budget of unpublished
letters of Lady Hamilton, which I had by great good
fortune obtained. He carried this on through four or
five numbers and then he had to cease work, owing to the
anxieties of the law case in which he was involved. What
came of those Lady Hamilton letters after Captain Finch-
Hatton, from whom I had the loan of them, received them
back, I do not know, but they showed her character to
have been much better than is generally accepted.

Percy Fitzgerald, Clement Scott and Percy Reeve were
the earliest dramatic critics of the paper, and the last-
named remained to the end. W. B. Woodgate did the
acrostics, and my old editor, Edward Legge, also helped
us with a series of articles. The Hon. Mrs Armytage did
the Ladies' Column. F. C. Philips was a regular contri-
butor, and Haddon Chambers joined forces later on, as
did William Mackay and many other notables. Colonel
Malleson used to do a lot of the solid work, and
"Marmaduke," as C. E. Jerningham styled himself
many years afterwards, was responsible for much of the
society element. There was no lack of talent, only it
may be I was too much in earnest from the political
point of view.

It was on the morning of I7th March 1883 when I
succeeded in getting the first number made up and passed
for press.

That night an infernal machine was exploded in the
area outside one of the Government offices, just off
Parliament Street, and I saw the havoc it had created as
I walked home to. Victoria Street about 6 A.M. Next week
I, of course, commented on this, and wrote : " Too well

276 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

has the lesson been learned that remedial legislation is
the fruit of outrage, and that a Liberal Ministry can
be stimulated by dynamite and assassinations into any
conceivable surrender. It is the old, fatal principle, first
inculcated by Mr Gladstone after the Clerkenwell explosion.
The mere sequence of concession on outrage must neces-
sarily prove disastrous, even though it is not admitted by
casuists that the connection of cause and effect exists
between them."

In its first six months St Stephen's Review offices
consisted of but two rooms on the first and second floors
of David Bogue, the publisher, 3 St Martin's Place, W.C.
The early issues were far from brilliant. The continuous
anxiety of finance and all the ceaseless details of un-
wonted business perplexed me into stupidity; but Mr
Gladstone gave us a good advertisement when at the
Inaugural Banquet of the National Liberal Club, in early
May 1883, he said :

We all know a class of our fellow-citizens — a very humble
class — who pursue their calling under no favourable conditions
in the streets of London, and whose lot, so far as my observation
goes, is only varied by their walking sometimes on the kerbstone
and sometimes in the gutter. (Laughter.)

These fellow-citizens of ours have it for their lot that the manly
and interesting proportions of the human form are, in their case,
disguised, both before and after, by certain oblong formations,
which appear to have no higher purpose than what is called
conveying an advertisement. (Laughter.) It is to one of those
advertisements, conspicuous in the streets of London, that I wish
for a moment to call your attention. We have seen — I think
it was about three weeks ago, and for a considerable time, but
perhaps the funds for the prolongation of the process may have
fallen short — (Laughter) — we have seen, I say, these placards
representing as an emblem the clock, the beautiful clock of the
tower of the Houses of Parliament, and this emblem was, as I
think, with a singular infelicity, appended to the announcement
of the foundation of a new Conservative journal. (Laughter.)
A Conservative, gentlemen — and this is its great characteristic —
a Conservative clock is always, in all circumstances, and on every
question, behind time. (Cheers.)

MR GLADSTONE'S £100 277

In a footnote to the above extract I wrote, in the issue
of 5th May 1883 :

I have at once made arrangements to prove to Mr Gladstone
that the clock of St Stephen's Review, at any rate, is not behind
time, for the sandwichmen have been chartered to "assemble
in their thousands " near the Houses of Parliament, displaying
not only the admirable clock tower device, but also disguising
their "interesting and manly" after-proportions with the above
extract from Mr Gladstone's speech. This has been done on
Thursday afternoon, the day after the speech. It is needless
to say that Mr Gladstone has been placed on the free list of the
paper.

The sequel to this was truly remarkable, for on 7th June
I received a letter containing a Bank of England note
for £100, which the writer, who signed as "A Happy
Medium," said, "Mr Gladstone has deputed me to remit
to you."

The following is a copy of our banker's receipt, which
was forwarded to Mr Gladstone :

THE CONSERVATIVE PRESS COMPANY (LIMITED)
St Stephen's Review

Banker's Receipt

Received the 6th day of June, 1883, of Mr Gladstone, per
" A Happy Medium," the sum of One hundred pounds (/ioo)

DIMS DALE & Co.

In sending this receipt to Mr Gladstone I wrote the
following letter : —

3 ST MARTIN'S PLACE,
jtb June 1883.

SIR, — I beg to enclose a receipt for ^100 which was forwarded to
me, as Editor of St Stephen's Review, by an anonymous corre-
spondent, who stated that the donation came from you. I confess
that this seems in the last degree improbable, but as you some
time ago took occasion to suggest that our financial arrangements
were not satisfactory — I allude to your Aquarium speech — it
seems possible that you may have made an effort to assist us.

In any case, as I have received ^100, and you are the only person

278 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

mentioned in connection with it, I can see but one course open to
me, and that I am adopting by sending you the receipt.
I am, sir, your obedient servant,

W. ALLISON (Editor, St Stephen's Review).

The Right Hon. W. E. GLADSTONE, M.P.
The following was the reply : —

10 DOWNING STREET, WHITEHALL,

Sth June 1883.

SIR, — Mr Gladstone is obliged to you for your courtesy forward-
ing to him the receipt for £100 stated to have been contributed
by him in aid of St Stephen's Review ; and he desires me to
inform you that he has no claim to be considered the donor of the
sum in question.

The receipt is herewith returned.
I am, sir, your obedient servant,

E. W. HAMILTON.

Not long afterwards a similar joke of agreeable character
was played on us in the name of " Joseph Chamberlain,"
and this time it took the form of a cheque for £250 drawn on
a bank in Birmingham and signed " Joseph Chamberlain."
The cheque was met in due course, but here again Mr
Chamberlain denied all knowledge of it.

Obviously from the above details, it will be seen that
I had good friends somewhere behind the scenes, though I
did not identify them until long afterwards. Incidentally
Mr Gladstone served admirably for advertising purposes.
Still the financial position was absurdly weak, and I even
started a " Beauty Competition " to run over several
weeks, voters for the most beautiful woman in her
Majesty's dominions having to buy a paper in order to
fill in a coupon. The result was rather funny, for the
week before the poll closed Miss Daisy Vern headed the
list, with Mrs Langtry second, and Miss Kate Vaughan
a rather bad third. Just before the conclusion someone
came in to the publisher's office and inquired how many
copies he would have to buy to give coupons enough to
place Kate Vaughan at the head of the poll, and the

AN ABSURD LIBEL 279

publisher, thinking only of business, told him 500. The
500 copies were bought and paid for at once, and the
publisher regretted he had not said 1000, but his demand
did not much overstep the necessary mark, for this was
the final state of the poll :

Miss Kate Vaughan . . . 1268

Miss Daisy Vern .... 1171

Mrs Langtry 1012

Miss Violet Cameron . . . 386

Miss Constance Gilchrist . . 365

and so on — a very long list.

But that is no sort of way to promote the circulation
of a paper, though it paid well for the time being.

We were struggling along and doing better each week,
but no paper that ever was could be made to pay unless
at least sufficient outlay for one year's production is
forthcoming before there is a hope of return, and having
worked in all the early months single-handed I suc-
cumbed to the temptation of a sub-editor, who, though
an absolute amateur, invested £500 in the paper. This
sum, it was agreed, should be restored to him if he were
dismissed, except for misconduct. He was by way of
being a poet, and he was also the author of a novel which
I myself burlesqued in our paper. It chanced that my
good friend, Edward Legge, wrote a very adverse criticism
of this novel in some paper with which he was connected
at that time, and the indignant author asked me to allow
him to attack Legge in our columns. I at once refused
any such permission, and told him, if he was ever going
to do any good work he should never think of resenting
criticism. Besides I would not, in any circumstances,
have let him use St Stephen's Review as a medium for
his wrath against the man from whom I learned the
rudiments of editing.

So, as I thought, the question was settled, but the sub-
editor had the persistence of Robert Bruce's spider and,

280 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

despite allltvy refusals, went upstairs one night to the
foreirian printer (one Faunch, whom Legge will remember
in Whitehall Review days) with a letter from himself to the
paper, which he said was to go in among the paragraphs.
It was set up, and appeared next day between two para-
graphs, which I had numbered consecutively in the proof
slips, and, as the context showed, were intended to follow
one another : but there, between them, was this ridiculous
letter, attacking Legge. There was nothing in it really
except silly abuse, such as " Whitehall Jenkins of Egg
Shop and Servants' Hall Renown," but some lawyer
friends of Legge's seized on it and started an action for
libel against us. It goes without the saying that I got
rid of the sub-editor forthwith, and proposed to hold his
£500 to abide the result of the action that had been brought
against us, but I suppose I never was enough of a lawyer
myself to understand that the common-sense course is
always incorrect.

Mr Grantham, Q.C., declared that it would prejudice us
greatly in the trial if we had not repaid the sub-editor
his £500 when dismissing him. In vain I protested that
by paying him we should admit ourselves parties to his
offence. Mr Grantham, Q.C., was a great legal authority,
and I was not. So the £500 was disgorged. I use the
word advisedly — and Mr Grantham had the brief for us
to defend the action.

On the day of trial I was down at the Law Courts in
plenty of time, but there found that Mr Grantham had
settled it out of court on terms that we should pay £300
damages and costs !

No doubt the learned counsel acted for the best according
to his lights ; but Edmund Yates, against whom an action
for a vastly more offensive libel had been brought by the
same plaintiff, defended it shortly afterwards and got a
verdict.

This was the most stupid legal case in which I was
ever engaged, though my sympathy, as regards the
merits of a really ridiculous offence; was wholly with the

THE LIAR 281

plaintiff. It cost the paper fully £1000, and at that stage
of existence such a loss was nearly fatal, as can be well
understood. The worst of it was that but for the lawyers,
I am sure the thing could have been settled without any
payment at all.

We fought through these evil days somehow or other,
and I remember struggling desperately for novelties so
as to compel the public to take notice. One was found
in an old play-bill, of gth January 1872, of theatricals at
Southbourne, Mr Joseph Chamberlain's house at that time.
The play was :

THE LIAR

By SAMUEL FOOTE
and the following was the cast : —

SIR JAMES ELLIOT . . . MY Alfred Osier

OLD WILDING .... Mr C. Beale

YOUNG WILDING .... Mr J. Chamberlain

PAPILLON Mr W. P. Beale

Miss GRANTHAM .... Mrs W. P. Beale

Miss GODFREY .... Miss M. E. Beale

Some of the actors as mentioned above are, I hope, still
alive. It can perhaps hardly be realised by the modern
generation that Mr Chamberlain in the eighties was
regarded much as Mr Lloyd George was, in his unregener-
ate days, during the Boer War ; and the discovery of this
play-bill, showing how he had been starred as the im-
personator of THE LIAR, was almost a triumph.

In further efforts after sensation in lieu of immediate
capital I even gave a facsimile full-page autograph letter
from Marwood giving instructions how to hang a man, and
it bore his official stamp " Wm. Marwood, Executioner,
Church Lane, Horncastle, Lincolnshire, England."

That this attracted attention goes without the saying,
but it was certainly playing the game rather low down
to condescend to such an effort. Worse than all, while I
had been for a brief holiday after the first half-year of

282 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

the paper, I returned to find myself involved in a fierce
religious controversy, my deputy having admitted an
article entitled " The Loves of the Priests." Clement
Scott had sent in his resignation, and there were wigs on
the green all round. Nothing could have been more dis-
tasteful than to be mixed up in such a broil, but you
cannot repudiate your own paper.

It ended in us going into offices at 21 John Street,
Adelphi — and very good offices they were — and in my
securing a sub-editor whose pen-name was " Edgar Lee."
He was known to his familiars as William Tasker, and
he was an extraordinary little man with a bald head
and side whiskers. He could write about anything and
everything, and he would work all day and all night.
For me, I believe, he would have done anything. Baron
Munchausen himself had not a greater capacity for simu-
lating truth while telling the most astounding fictions.
He was a spiritualist, he was — well, what was he not ? —
he had a heart of gold all the time — that much at least I
know. There came with him Eaton Edeveain, an elderly
barrister, who undertook the business management of
the paper. He was a good sort enough, and the father
of " Templer Saxe," who attained to some repute as a
baritone singer, but the old gentleman was a muddler at
best, and yet it was through him I discovered a treasure
indeed. He happened to show me one or two line sketches
of Lionel Brough, Toole and Irving, and by some strange
intuition I was convinced at once that I had never seen
work which showed such genius.

We were nearly approaching the day when the first
Christmas Number of the paper had to be published, and
the artist who had been commissioned to do the big
double-page picture had failed so miserably that the idea
of having his effort reproduced seemed out of the question.
But what were we to do ? I looked at the two or three
sketches mentioned above, and said to Edeveain : " Who
did these ? He could get us out of the trouble, if there
is time."

PHIL MAY 283

He replied that they were done by a boy about nineteen
years old named

PHIL MAY;

only, of course, he did not accentuate the name at that time.

I asked him to go at once and ascertain if this " boy "
could do a cartoon very quickly representing all the
principal characters of the moment. In no long time I
had the answer in the affirmative, and met Phil May for
the first time. He was a lean, cadaverous-looking youth,
with close-cropped, very dark hair, and eyes that looked
through you like gimlets. If ever there was the fire of
genius in any eyes, it was there in Phil May's, and whatever
mistakes I have made in my life I made none that time,
for I knew right off that I had found something quite
abnormally excellent.

Well, he produced the original of the cartoon within
forty-eight hours of that moment when I first saw him,
and it was published in our Christmas Number of 1883.
That, with black and white sketches in the same number,
is the first work of Phil May's ever published by a London
paper ; and I think I have some reason to regard myself
as a world's benefactor in having discovered him and
given him that start.

He was at a low ebb at the time I mention, and might
not have lived to prove the power that was in him.

Poor Phil ! He has been greatly misunderstood, in a
personal sense. Most people will tell you he was a
drunkard, but I, who knew him very well indeed, can
declare with truth that he was nothing of the sort. He
was a convivial soul, liable to exceed when in congenial
company, but never drinking for drink's sake, and there
is a great distinction here.

Phil May did four full-page drawings and a half-page
one for that Christmas Number, besides the big cartoon,
so the speed of his work can be imagined. I have one of
the originals now, and it is doubtless valuable.

For three years from that time Phil May worked for

284 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

St Stephen's Review, and it was amazing to me that his
work was not better appreciated by the public. I can
truly say I never dreamed of doubting its pre-eminence ;
and, strangely enough, this was understood in Australia
sooner than in London, though they had nothing but
exported copies of our paper to judge from. Phil May
was offered a three years' engagement on The Sydney
Bulletin at £30 a week, and he came to me to ask what he
had best do.

CHAPTER XXVII

Tom Merry's Cartoons — The Rake's Progress — Lord Salisbury's
Appreciation — St Stephen's Saturnalia — Great Work by
Phil May— Death of Gordon — Defeat of the Gladstonian
Government — Joy of Lord Randolph — Great Scheme for
Provincial Papers — Lord Randolph President — Grievous
Disappointment — Lord Randolph and Titles — Breakdown of
Provincial Scheme — Collapse of Stoke Park Club— Phil May
leaves for Australia — I save St Stephen's Review

I HAD always thought a good deal of the American
Puck, with its coloured political cartoons, and in
the first week of 1884 we followed on the same line,
having secured Tom Merry to do the work. He was a
lithographer by trade and a clever rough-and-ready
artist. He had been some time on the stage at the halls
as a lightning cartoonist, chalking portraits of well-known
characters on a board in a minute or two. It used to be
an effective " turn." Moreover, from his lithographic
work on posters and such-like, Tom Merry had gained
an exact knowledge how to hit the public eye from a
distance or at fiist glance. Thus it was that he became
the really most effective political cartoonist of the day.
His work was crude, and people used often to ask me why
I allowed such " vulgar " cartoons to be published. I
always replied that I meant the cartoons for the public
and not for fastidious readers of the paper. In short, the
cartoon and the paper were two distinct entities ; and the
cartoons were a big factor in many an election. An
early sensation was created by the publication of the
Rake's Progress Series, representing Mr Gladstone as the
Rake, and a complete series of that is now worth a lot of
money, for I stopped the production of the third cartoon
after only 500 had been printed, feeling sure that it was too
285

286 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Hogarthian to be acceptable on Messrs Smith & Son's
bookstalls, as they then were. A Bowdlerised cartoon
was published instead with the paper, and later, when
the " returns " had come in from publishers, we made
up a complete series of 500, including the cartoon
which I had stopped, and sold them at 303. a set. They
were all sold right off, and the late Lord Salisbury had
two of the sets. I always regretted that it was impossible
in any orthodox fashion to acquaint Mr Gladstone with
this fact.

Phil May occasionally did our cartoons, and he was an
incomparably superior artist to Tom Merry, but somehow
his work did not catch the public so readily, except in one
instance, and that cartoon was " The Old Gravedigger's
Christmas Eve." It was published on 27th December
1884, and represented Mr Gladstone as a gravedigger,
the tombs all round about him showing the names of
well-known men who had fallen in Egypt that year,
and the inference — a woefully prophetic one — was that
the grave then being dug was for Gordon, who was holding
out at Khartoum. It is a gruesome cartoon, with moon-
light effects, and it created some sensation.

What progress St Stephen's Review had made by the end
of that year may be judged from the Christmas Number,
St Stephen's Saturnalia, to which the late Lord Lytton
(" Owen Meredith ") and the late Earl of Carnarvon
were the principal contributors. Lord Lytton' s con-
tribution was " Bernardo : A Study of Sentiment."
It is written in dramatic form for three characters, and
the only wonder is that it has never been republished,
for much of it is very beautiful. It was illustrated by
George Cruikshank.

Lord Carnarvon wrote " The Magic Mirror," giving
word pictures of Parliament as it was in various epochs.
Even Sir Wilfrid Lawson contributed verses to that
number, and Mr Horace Lennard wrote a clever skit after
the manner of Aristophanes, entitled " Birds of a Feather ;
or, Larks with the Greek."

Sr STEPHEN'S SATURNALIA 287

Phil May and I did " The Forty Thieves," in Pantomime
style, Mr Gladstone being, of course, Cassim and Lord
Salisbury Ali Baba. Mr Chamberlain was the captain
of the forty thieves, who were members of the Ministry
and Parnellites. Lord Randolph was Ganem, and so on.

The final scene, when the thieves are destroyed with the
boiling oil of " General Election," is very effective in
Phil May's full-page drawing. Ganem has just cut off
the head of Hassan (Mr Chamberlain) and Cassim Baba
is lying in extremis, while Morgiana (Britannia), with
Ali Baba (Lord Salisbury) at her side, is holding the
steaming oil-can to the old man's nose, and he says :

Alas ! I perish. Deadly 's my objection
To the least sniff of GENERAL ELECTION.

It will interest many to see a specimen of Phil May's
earlier methods and so the page drawing referred to is
reproduced here, but of course on a much smaller scale.

That Christmas Number was a very great success indeed
and made a big profit. All was going well with the paper
now, except in regard to business management. We were
doing about 7000 copies a week, and advertisements came
in in abundance. Our finances were still weak, but we
flourished exceedingly nevertheless, and political excite-
ment was growing higher as the attempted relief of Gordon
hung fire. Finally, in the second week of February,
came the news of Gordon's death. We received it on a
Wednesday morning, and Phil May at once dashed off
on transfer paper a study of Gladstone as Macbeth, with
Gordon as Banquo's ghost. This was published the
following (Thursday) morning, and so poor were the
methods of reproduction in those days that it was
deemed quite extraordinary to have got this sketch out
so quickly. It could not have been done had it not
been drawn on transfer paper.

Events then began to march rapidly and ministers barely
escaped defeat on a vote of censure in the beginning of

288 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

March. Their majority was only fourteen. I was finding
myself a persona grata among official personages on the
Opposition side at that time, and among other notable
men I met was Ismail Pasha, who was then making an
effort, under the auspices of A. M. Broadley, to regain
his lost position in Egypt ; but, said he, "I trusted in
England and the explicit promises of English agents and
therefore I fell." I must say he impressed me very
favourably, and I have often wondered what became of
him after he retired to Turkey. He was very bitter
about the financial houses who had engineered the various
Egyptian loans, and he showed me that the Egyptians
had in 1873 received £25,000,000 less than the sum for
which they became responsible.

Dhuleep Singh came to me about that time with his
grievances. His income had been reduced to one half
of what he considered his due, and he contemplated going
out to India and raising trouble there. What benefit
he was to derive from me never transpired, but it was
interesting to hear all he had to say, and how he claimed
the Kohinoor as his property.

Tom Merry's cartoons in St Stephen's were now varied
for a few months by some which were sent in by Matt
Morgan, who gained much fame years before on The
Tomahawk. His son also was responsible for several,
and the " Libretto for Liberals," which was written each
week in connection with the cartoon, was growing more
and more as if working up to a victory. We produced
a first-rate Primrose Number on i8th April, with original
MS. of Disraeli in facsimile, and delightful drawings by
Phil May. It sold like wildfire and was crammed with
advertisements.

On 30th May 1885 appeared Phil May's representation
of Romeo (J. Chamberlain) parting from (the Grand Old)
Juliet. On 6th June there came a cartoon by Phil May,
entitled " The Welsher " — it was Derby week — and
Gladstone is running right out of the picture, pursued
by the infuriated Opposition and the British bull-dog.

TOY OF LORD RANDOLPH

From St. Stetkens Review," June 13,

THE BIG SCHEME 289

It was soon to be a case of running from scent to view,
and at ten minutes to two on the Tuesday morning of
the second week in June the Government was defeated
on a beer question and resigned office at four o'clock that
afternoon. The joy of Lord Randolph when the division
result was announced was dealt with by Phil May.

So then the Conservatives were in at last, and one of
the first results was to me disappointing, for I was about
to publish an interview with Mr Chaplin, which was a
really good one, when he wrote to cut out the best part
of it, as he had accepted office under Lord Salisbury and
did not wish his views on Free Trade and Protection to
be dealt with in the circumstances.

However, I dashed into a very big scheme for Conserva-
tive newspapers of which St Stephen's Review was to be
merely the parent. The idea was to issue partly printed
sheets — that is, on the four inside pages — to provincial
papers, as is done by certain other firms, and that these
sheets should have Phil May sketches and attractive
matter, while administering the political dose sparingly,.
The local people, of course, print their stuff on the other
four pages and so make their paper complete. I got
together a General Council of 700 of the leading Con-
servatives in the country for this scheme, and the following
was the Executive Council :— W. T. Marriott, Q.C., M.P. ;
Sir F. Milner, Bart, M.P. ; Hon. A. C. L. Cadogan ;
W. Grantham, Q.C., M.P. ; Colonel G. B. Malleson, C.S.I. ;
W. Allison. Then I asked Lord Randolph Churchill to
be President, and he consented.

The Company was formed with a capital of £100,000
in 100,000 shares of £i each, and the only weak spot in it
was that the shares were not at least £10 each. There
was no plunder for promoters, and £2000 was spent over
preliminaries and advertising. I called a meeting at
the Cannon Street Hotel with all the Executive and many
of the General Council there and a big attendance of the
public. Then the scheme was launched and, at first,
success seemed certain, for there were over 10,000

290 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

applications for shares, but when these were gone into it
was found that with scarcely any exceptions they were all
for a £i share, the idea having become prevalent that it
was a subscription limited to that sum.

It was grievously disappointing, more especially as
Lord Randolph, who never troubled to inquire what the
financial response had been, sent for me and asked me
to arrange to start a halfpenny paper in Birmingham.
I thought of the motto, "Forti nihil difficile," and said I
would at once do what was possible.

Now I knew a great supporter of the party, who had
done many public services and had twice contested some-
what hopeless seats at the request of Lord Abergavenny.
He was a very rich man and to him I went. Having
explained to him what Lord Randolph wanted, I said I
did not see how less than £30,000 would be any use for
such a project. He asked if I thought it would pay as
an investment, and I said that was very doubtful, but it
would carry a paper well through a General Election.

On that he told me he was inclined to entertain the
idea, but he should like some assurance that if he did this
thing his services would be recognised ; if I could procure
him any such assurance, I should have £20,000 down
and £10,000 in three months.

Now this perfectly true story is very interesting. I
went to Lord Randolph and told him exactly how the
matter stood and that the necessary money would be
forthcoming for the Birmingham paper ; but he at once
said : ' ' No ; as long as I have anything to do with the
government of this country I will never be a party to
anything of that kind. I am sorry, but we must do
without the paper."

This was a case where the capitalist was a man who
had done enough good work to really deserve a peerage
vastly more than many who have received that honour,
but Lord Randolph's attitude on such questions was
very clearly defined then, and that, too, when the service
wished for was one for his own political benefit in his

LORD RANDOLPH'S REFUSAL 291

campaign at Birmingham. I think this record should
be widely known and remain always to his credit.

Beaten but not defeated, I retired to see what else could
be done, and presently found an old lawyer named
Charsley who by judicious purchase of a certain big re-
version had come into an income of some £30,000 a year,
but only during the tenure of the life tenant.

He was a very keen politician and almost unbalanced by
his own prosperity, as was subsequently shown, but he
cheerfully entered into my scheme for illustrated " insides"
for provincial papers and agreed to lose £1000 in establish-
ing it. This I proposed to do by undercutting the exist-
ing agencies to the extent of £20 loss each week (a most
unholy device, but my own), and so with the assistance of
the indefatigable Tasker this part of the grand scheme was
fairly started. We had forty provincial papers taking
our sheets within a fortnight of commencement, and there
was promise of rapid extension of our clientele. Here,
at any rate, a good work had been done, but when I turned
to St Stephen's Review — the " parent " paper — it was
with a chill foreboding, as a company with 10,000 share-
holders needed a city office and secretary, with much extra
expense, and the capital actually subscribed had been
insignificant.

It was at that time I first met Richard Parker Mortlock,
now Major, who came to me as secretary (not of the
Company), and we have been closely associated ever since,
as clients of the International Horse Agency and Exchange
Limited know, though they can have but small idea of the
troubled waters we had to get through or over with the old
paper.

I now found myself with a Board of Directors, and one
of them, Colonel Malleson, a severe literary critic, but
without the touch of humour which is absolutely essential
in journalism, whatever it may be in writing history. He
was a most able man, in his way, and a very good sort, but
he hampered me dreadfully, more especially when he took
a dislike, for no reason, to J. R. Taylor, who was managing

292 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

the paper. Taylor was really a most invaluable man.
He had been with Messrs W. H. Smith & Sons so many
years that he retired with several thousand pounds to his
credit. These he proceeded to get rid of in a brief space
of time by taking Her Majesty's Theatre and running
The Ticket of Leave Man there with a first-class company.
It ran for only about three weeks, and that was the end.
Then we got Taylor to manage the paper, and as he knew
all the bookstall men and the publishing ropes generally
he was able to do immense good, but Colonel Malleson did
not understand what all this meant, and with the departure
of Taylor there was an almost immediate drop in circula-
tion. It is my misfortune, I suppose, that I must either
do things in my own way or do no good at all, and a Board
of Directors was to me a thing impossible — worse than going
to school again. The capital of the Company was rapidly
vanishing, and I prepared, with the assistance of a firm
of paper-makers, to rescue St Stephen's from impending
wreck.

Meanwhile the partly printed sheets part of the business
was progressing famously with the subsidy of £20 a week
from Mr Charsley, when suddenly, after the eighth week,
that payment was stopped.

It is a strange story, but Mr Charsley had gone quite
out of his depth in the matter of investments on the
strength of the very large income that had fallen to
him as the purchaser of half the reversion in a life estate.
He bought Stoke Park and had the big house magnificently
got up for a club. Maple's bill alone was £4000, and
another £4000 was spent on pictures and decorations.
A course was laid out for steeplechasing and trotting, and
Lord Charles Ker was to manage it. Captain Percy Smith
was manager of the club, and he got it all into most perfect
order — it was, in fact, an ideal place. Then Mr Charsley
launched out and bought another big estate for some
£180,000, and on the top of all this he found that the tenant
of the life estate, half of whose income he regularly drew,
refused to have his life insured, and for that reason there

PHIL MAY SAILED FOR AUSTRALIA ON WEDNESDAY THIS WEEK

From -'St. Stephens Review," November 14, 1885

ALADDIN'S PALACE 293

was no way by which he could capitalise his part of the
income.

Probably there are insurance companies nowadays
who would have accommodated him, but there were none
at that time, and so, despite his £30,000 a year, he had
quite overstepped the mark.

The sequel was curious. I had dined at the Stoke Park
Club one evening and gone back to town. Percy Smith
had seen that all was well and exactly to his mind. He
is a man of very nice taste, and had taken great care over
every detail. He went back the next morning to resume
his duties, when, to his horror and amazement, he found
the house absolutely gutted, with no stick of furniture
or anything else remaining in it. What wonder that he
could not believe his eyes and sat down half weeping in
despair.

The truth was that Mr Charsley, alarmed by his liabilities,
had requested Messrs Maple to send down and repossess
themselves of all the furniture, and also to take the pictures
and everything else away. Twenty or more furniture
vans were sent down at night and this most portentous
midnight flitting was effected. The race meeting which
was brought off there the following week resolved itself
into a ramping affair of the very worst sort ; and so ended
the Stoke Park Club, and so ended Mr Charsley's subsidy
of £20 a week for the partly printed sheets, which was to
have gone on for a year and lasted only eight weeks.

Thus we were left with contracts to supply close on
fifty papers with these sheets — contracts which were
designedly losing ones so as to undercut all rivals, and I
suppose the attempt to do such a thing in such a way
deserved to fail. I can truly declare, however, that I
had no sort of idea that it would ever bring me personal
profit. All I was after was to get control of public opinion
and defeat the Gladstonians.

The worst blow of all, however, came when Phil May
told me in October, 1885, that he had received an offer of
£30 a week for three years to go out to New South Wales to

294 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

work on The Sydney Bulletin. He was making about £10
a week out of us, and we could afford no more, for at that
time the British public did not fully appreciate Phil May.
I told him that, in my judgment, if he went to Australia
he might be forgotten, and that there was no place like
London to get good work appreciated; but there were
other reasons besides the pecuniary inducement which
caused him to go ; and so much did I think of him that
we gave up all the ground floor of the office — three rooms
— to a view of his original drawings, during two days,
and invited all the Press.

It will never do to fill up this book with illustrations,
but I must needs give one, which is the last Phil May did
for St Stephen's Review before he left for Sydney. It was
published on i4th November 1885, and he sailed on the
Wednesday in that week.

It is needless to say how much life had gone out of the
paper after the departure of Phil May — and for three
years too. It shows something for our vitality that we
survived those three years.

It would be unedifying here to give the details of how
I retrieved St Stephen's Review from the Company that
should have been so big and was so little. At this juncture
the £i shareholders gave no trouble, but there were seven
different sets of solicitors to be finally dealt with, and all
in one room at the same time. It seems like a dream
now that such an ordeal could have been gone through,
but it was, and the paper slid imperceptibly into the
ownership of another company, leaving me once more
clear of all interference.

CHAPTER XXVIII

The First Eclipse Stakes — Scenes from the Irish Rebellion —
Percy Reeve — The Taming of the Shrew — The Election our
Zenith — Great Days — Col. McMurdo — The Delagoa Bay
Railway-— Resignation of Lord Randolph — Spiritualism and
Charles Peace— The Middlesex Magistrates libelled — A
Crown Prosecution — I visit America — The Appalachian Mine
— Racing in the States — Hanover — James R. Keene — Leonard
Jerome — A Thirsty Day — Return to England

ON 24th July 1886 we published a big cartoon
representing on the top half Lord Salisbury
eclipsing Gladstone in the skies, and Minting
beating St Gatien and Bendigo for the First Eclipse Stakes.
This is a fairly good object lesson in the folly of pro-
phesying before you know, but as the paper came out on a
Thursday and the race was not run until Friday it did
not so much matter. Minting sprung a curb before the
day and was unable to start or he would no doubt have
verified Tom Merry's cartoon.

In this year we had made a good fight, politically, by
digging up Musgrave's History of the Irish Rebellion
of 1798 and reproducing Cruikshank's blood-curdling
delineations of the horrible scenes. These, with half-a-
page of the letterpress to each, made a startling series
during eight weeks, and then were published in a collected
form, with portraits of Mr Gladstone and Mr Parnell on
the front page — " William Ewart Gladstone and Charles
Stewart Parnell— the Separatist leaders of 1886. What
the Irish Loyalists have to expect if these leaders
triumph."

Over 500,000 of this collected series were sold in the
streets of London at a penny each. The rush of itinerant
vendors into the office I shall never forget. They seemed

295

296 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

like sacking the premises, and certainly a good many got
away with copies for which they had not paid — but
what matter ? We were on the fighting lay, and those
Cruikshank horrors thrilled the public.

I never was what is called a politician in these days,
when politicians are paid, but I had and have in my
inmost soul certain fixed views, which were never so well
expressed as by Disraeli, and I sent out those startling
sheets not for any other reason than to show the Irish
question in its true and always abiding light.

Of all the staff of St Stephen's Review little Percy Reeve
was the nearest akin to me in thought, sentiment and
methods of using the English language. We were very
different, as it might seem, for he was a musician whose
work was perfect, with never a touch of commonplace.
He never made himself a persona grata to the higher powers,
so that he gained no great publicity, but his knowledge of
music in every detail was complete, his genius was — to
me at any rate — obvious, and the fullest sympathy was
in his every composition, whether it were grave or gay.
Poor little chap ! There have been few funerals that I
have attended with more real sorrow. And yet — to
strike another chord — I cannot but remember being with
him at a performance of The Taming of the Shrew and we
supped afterwards at the Garrick Club, where we met
Irving and — I think — Beerbohm Tree. Anyhow, we re-
mained there some tune, and walked home to Victoria
Street — we both lived in the same building.

It was nearly 2 A.M. and, as we passed Buckingham
Palace, Percy Reeve began to think that Shakespeare
was a wonderful man and that he alone knew how women
should be managed. He held forth to me on this point
and I fully agreed — or seemed to agree — with him.
So we went home, and Mrs Reeve, who is one of the best
in the world, had, of course, no idea of being " tamed,"
neither had my good lady — though I must admit that
such an enterprise never entered into my wildest
imagination.

A GLORIOUS ELECTION 297

The dissolution of Parliament, which came along on
25th June 1886, in consequence of the first Home Rule
Bill, brought St Stephen's Review to the zenith of its
prosperity. We were never doing less than 10,000 a
week of the paper, and as for the cartoons, they went
by hundreds of thousands. Tom Merry could not print
them fast enough, and other lithograph firms had to assist.
Those cartoons were rough and ready — vulgar if you
like — such as Gladstone being kicked into the air by
Liberal Unionists : " The wild mob's million feet will
kick you from your place " ; Gladstone as Stiggins
being ducked in the horse trough by old Weller (John
Bright), and other such cartoons all through that excit-
ing time, when I personally felt that we were doing
National and Imperial service by helping to break up
the Gladstone Government. It was worth anything
to make an end of them, and ended they were when
316 Conservatives and 76 Liberal Unionists were
elected as against only 192 Gladstonians and 86
Parnellites.

Naturally Gladstone resigned and Lord Salisbury took
office, Lord Randolph leading the House of Commons.
Those were great days, and though I did not see my way
at the moment to go into Parliament, for which I had
long been on the list of candidates, all seemed to be
working right that way.

What I mean is that I would never have contested a
seat unless at my own expense, and I venture to think that
any member who has had his expenses paid for him by a
party or a trade union is as bad as a voter who has sold
his vote.

Before this time I had made the acquaintance of Colonel
McMurdo, an American, who was a great man, whatever
his financial methods may have been. It was he who
first exploited the gold possibilities of the Transvaal
and brought out the Balkis Company, in the promotion
of which Albert Grant had some share. Gwyn Owen, a
Welsh Nonconformist minister — if I remember rightly —

298 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

had come back from the Transvaal with the Balkis
proposition in his pocket. They had not struck the right
place in the Transvaal, as it happened, but McMurdo
foresaw the prospects of the whole country and it was he
who obtained the concession for the Delagoa Bay Railway
from the Portuguese Government.

This railway was all but completed when McMurdo
died suddenly, and, as may be remembered, the Portuguese
thereupon tried to evade their liabilities.

Mrs McMurdo, however, had considerable interest with
the American Government, and an arbitration case re-
sulted which lasted over many years. Meanwhile the
late Colonel's managing clerk had married the widow,
and obtained good appointments in the American Consular
Service. The arbitration dragged on until the good
lady died, and, I think, there was no profit in the
award to her then disconsolate husband, but he has
since become an American ambassador, unless I am
greatly mistaken.

It is indeed strange to think now what the Transvaal
was in the eighties before the gold had been discovered,
and what events have happened consequent on that
discovery. Effodiuniur opes irritamenta Malorum, as we
used to read in Latin text-books, and no greater truth
was ever enunciated. Still, all was for the best. The Boers
would still have been a pastoral race, living happily —
no doubt — on the land, but men like General Botha
and General Smuts would have lived and died without
any opportunity to develop their talents. Yes, I suppose
it has been all for the best, and yet, had there been no
Delagoa Bay Railway Mr Winston Churchill would
never have escaped from the Transvaal. That gives
food for thought.

The return of Lord Salisbury's Government in absolute
unassailable strength was bad business for St Stephen's
Review. We were nothing if not a fighting paper, and
there remained nothing to fight. Lord Randolph resigned
his office at the end of that year and on ist January 1887

SPIRITUALISTS 299

I committed the paper to support of him, but in no sense
as an opponent of Lord Salisbury. The election had been
grand, and one of our cartoons represented the eighteen
members for Kent, all Unionists. All seemed to be
going well, except for a fighting paper with convictions
such as mine were and still are. For a while the after-
math of political excitement lasted, and even on 26th March
1887 a cartoon of Messrs Gladstone and Parnell in the
pillory, with Sir William Harcourt in the stocks, below
them, proved very popular. Another, on gth April 1887,
showed the Gladstonians being taken to the Tower, through
the Traitors' Gate. Many other very striking cartoons
were brought out, but the Opposition was too feeble to be
worthy of them, and the palmy days of the paper seemed
to have ended. It had been a desperately strenuous life
so far, to combine responsibility for finance, politics and
editorial work with business management which was
more or less hopeless. Once I was induced by Tasker
to attend a spiritualistic seance of his own in one of the
rooms of the office. There were three or four persons
present besides myself and Tasker, and after the table
had dashed about in ridiculous fashion it rapped out the
letters spelling CHARLES PEACE, whereupon its evolutions
became so violent that its legs were broken and the seance
came to an end. Naturally I thought at the time that
the show was humbug, but later on those other men all
proved to be " undesirables," and it seemed really curious
that Charles Peace should have come into such congenial
society. Neither Tasker nor myself had any suspicion
of any of them at the time.

In the spring of 1887 some one of our contributors —
I think it was William Mackay — took the Middlesex
Magistrates to task for licensing the Alhambra and
refusing the Empire's licence. The innuendo in the
paragraph was not obscure, and unfortunately contained
the undoubted substratum of truth which served to
explain the yearly renewals for so long of the licence of the
old Argyle Rooms.

300 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Nothing was heard of the matter for a while, but on
Valentine's Day I received a portentous document :

liMctorfa

By the Grace of God —

To WILLIAM GATE and EDWARD TARRY greeting —
These are to command you, etc., etc.

I had never seen a writ of the sort and at first took it
as somebody's practical joke ; but it soon transpired that
a Crown prosecution for libel on behalf of the Magistrates
had been instituted, and our printer and the cashier, who
was nominally publisher, weie the defendants. Poor old
Gate, who had long ceased to take any active part in his
printing business and lived happily down the Thames,
fishing, lost two stone in weight from anxiety before the
trial. The late Mr John Hollingshead, and others whom
I could name, called on me from time to time after this,
with strange stories about Middlesex Magistrates, but
always when asked if they would give evidence to that
effect they dried up ; and it became evident that we could
not fight the case, and must get out of it by apologies.

I was not joined in the action, and in May that year I
sailed for New York on the old Etruria, then a new ship.
I had a very good time in America except when I spent a
fortnight at the Appalachian mine in North Carolina,
and even there the novelty was very interesting, though
there was nothing but unfiltered water to drink and very
little indeed to eat. To quote my own words written
at the time :

Meat there is none. A lamb is killed for us as an experiment,
and the event is regarded as one of thrilling interest, but though
it is forthwith put down the mine to keep, it goes wrong the very
next day, and there is an end of it. No such thing as ice exists ;
the flies swarm in millions, and wood-ticks fasten on our legs and
bloat their bodies on our blood ; " jiggers " also abound and
find the bare feet of the niggers a happy hunting ground . Butter
is purely liquid and wholly abominable ; and o' nights, what time
we sit out of doors, clad but in two garments, and play whist,
consisting at last of double dummy, between me and the Colonel,

AMERICAN NOTES 301

hideous and horrid buzzing things surround our lamp, and a
whip-poor-will commences with unceasing regularity to repeat
his maddening strain in our immediate vicinity. ... A terrible
bird is the whip-poor-will ; let us be thankful we in England
know him not.

I learned enough about gold-mining in that fortnight
to understand that it is no game for amateurs. Thus,
although I learned how to pan ore and never failed to
get a good show of gold in this way, sometimes enough
to string right round the pan, yet when that same class of
quartz was milled and washed over the plates never a
trace of gold did it leave behind. This, I suppose, was
the fault of the reduction officer, who was a mere boy
fresh from college, but I soon saw that between the exist-
ence of gold in quartz and the extracting it in large
quantities there is a vast deal of piactical knowledge
wanted, and I repaired to New York again to see racing
and horses, which I did understand.

Before going to New York I had left the racing columns
of St Stephen's Review to Lord Marcus Beresford, who
most kindly took charge, and no man has ever written
better stuff than he used to do — as can well be imagined.
More than that, we arranged then that we should start
the International Horse Agency and Exchange, and I
took out a big list of mares, most of which were Hume-
Webster's, to offer to American breeders. The business
did not come to anything at that time, and Loid Marcus
later on went his way and I mine, but there was never
any divergence of opinion. Only the first effort fell flat,
and did not seem worth following up.

Bread cast upon the waters, however, is found after
many days, and it was during that visit to America in
1887 that I first met Mr James R. Keene, who was
temporarily down on his luck from some Wall Street
disasters. I had been to a Brooklyn meeting, and in St
Stephen's of 30th July 1887, I wrote :

The big race, the Brookdale Handicap, was the important
one of the day, and at last I saw what I at once took to be a real

302 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

good horse. This was a chestnut three-year-old, with three white
legs and of rare quality, though perhaps without the command-
ing length and liberty of an absolutely first-class English horse.
He was somewhat after the style of Bend Or, and knowing
absolutely nothing of the supposed merits and relative form of
the American horses, I wrote Col. Buck the same night : "I
have seen one horse to-day which, if I mistake not, is really in the
first class."

This horse was the three-year-old Hanover, whom I have
learned more of since, having seen him win two more races, and
despite the low opinion I formed of American horses generally,
I should not have the smallest hesitation in backing Hanover
for our St Leger this year, were he engaged and iu England.

That, in its way, was almost equal to my finding Phil
May, for Hanover, later on, proved to be the leading
stallion in the States for four or five years and his blood
has come to be greatly valued in this country through
Orby, who is out of a Hanover mare.

I must not dawdle over these reminiscences of America,
but I must give just a touch of what happened on Decora-
tion Day at Jerome Park in 1887, then opened for racing
once more, but since then, I believe, built over. Here
is an extract of what I wrote at the time :

But now to meet Mr Keene on the Quarter Stretch — or whatever
they call it — and see Kingston.

Before this meeting is effected, I am somehow brought into
contact with a kindly and jovial gentleman, of between fifty and
sixty, who remarks, without more ado : " You look as though you
wanted a drink. Come with me." A drink, after the long wait
on the stand, was just what one did want, so it needed no intro-
duction to make me accompany this good Samaritan . We passed
into a small room below the judge's box, and there were sundry
and agreeable-looking bottles of which we partook, with much
mutual good-fellowship. Suddenly I espied the name on the
Member's Pass of my host. It was Leonard Jerome.

I had already noticed that the design on the back of the race
card of the day was taken from one of St Stephen's St Leger
cartoons, in which Lord Randolph was represented as winning,
and I found Mr Jerome greatly pleased to meet someone who
supported his son-in-law politically by cartoons and otherwise —
indeed I know not what dinners at the Union Club and other

LEONARD JEROME 303

functions were not immediately ordered to be arranged, and
Colonel Buck, who had joined us, undertook to bring all the
choice souls within reach.

The above incident of my chance meeting with Lady
Randolph's father is a good deal more interesting than
anything I could write about the Appalachian mine.
I returned to England on the old Servia, and among the
passengers were Millicent Duchess of Sutherland and the
late Duke. They were then on their wedding tour, and
as it was Jubilee year, he presided at a celebration in
the saloon of the steamer, at which the British passengers
entertained the American, and as the British numbered
only about twenty and the Americans were coming over
in hundreds the entertainment was somewhat costly when
divided up among the twenty.

I liked America well, but I was glad to get back to this
old country, for I shall always remember that the first
sight that greeted me in the hall of the Hoffman House,
when I arrived there on a Sunday morning, was a large
portrait of Mr Gladstone, and the next thing I saw was a
printed placard which intimated that the committee for
the reception of the Hon. William O'Brien was sitting in
Room— I forget the number. That surely was an
unpleasant welcome. I find that I wrote : " One cannot
help feeling rejoiced at the knowledge that certain New
York aldermen are undergoing long terms of imprisonment
— of course they are Irishmen."

I may quote a little further, thus :

Having arrived at the Hoffman House and paid 2% dollars for
what in London would be a is. 6d. fare, the joy of drink deferred
suggests that it were better to have a bath before an internal
application of liquid. The water of the dock had, of course, not
served for bathing purposes on board ship that morning. . . .
The time arrived when it was expedient to interview the barman.
It was a thrilling moment, and on finding that the bar was not
open, the next thing was to hurry into one of the numerous coffee-
rooms and ask a waiter what was "the best long drink '••• he could
recommend. The expectation of that drink and the dream of the
ice it would contain will remain while life lasts — so will the blank

304 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

horror which supervened, when the waiter, with his accursed
German accent, replied : " No drink, sir, on Sunday. It is the
law."

As Virgil sometimes has it, Obstupui,steterantque comes, voxfaucibus
hasit ; I had literally never for one single day since I could remember
gone without my drink, and here it was only eight o'clock in the
morning, the weather already sweltering, and — oh ! it was too
awful ! — I seized a glass of iced water, drank it and shuddered.
" This," said I to the waiter, "is what you call a free country !
Thank God I do not live under a republic ! " He only grinned
and . . . There is no exaggeration in what I have stated, and the
unfortunate inhabitants of New York are groaning under the
yoke — or solacing themselves by crossing the river on Sundays
into New Jersey, where no such idiocy prevails. There was nothing
for it, in the instance under notice, but to grin and bear it, for
one could not well present letters of introduction on a Sunday
and ask for drink.

To sit outside in Madison Square, a stranger, and thirsty in a
dry land, was melancholy indeed ; and then, in sheer bitterness
of despair, to lunch off "Cocoa and Clam Fritters " was an experi-
ence over which oceans of agony still seem to roll. Then, too,
the insulting spectacle of Mr Gladstone's photograph in the hall —
ah, the whole thing was bitter indeed. ... [A visit to the Central
Park . . . ] One could bear the heat no longer and so returned,
incontinently drinking lemonade en route, trying pure Apollinaris,
by way of a change, at the hotel ; then quaffing beakers of ginger
ale ; and finally, after hearing an utterly Scotch sermon by the
Rev. Doctor Taylor of the Tabernacle, crowning the terrors of the
day with foaming goblets of sarsaparilla, than which nothing more
nauseous can be imagined. Verily these New York people do well
to point to their statue of " Liberty enlightening the nations."
No more remarkable irony could be conceived. Liberty may
look very fine there in the bay, and, like the moon in A Mid-
summer Night's Dream, she may shine " with a good grace,"- but
since she failed to enlighten me as to where in New York I could
procure one of the necessities of life — why, then I say she is but a
make-believe Liberty, after all, and that New York has simply
set up an idol which has just the same right to its title, and no
more than had Starveling when he says in the play :

" This Lantern doth the horned Moon present,
And I the Man in the Moon do seem to be."

Such was my first experience of New York, but it is
only fair to add that I was all right by the next Sunday,

STEPHEN FISKE 305

Stephen Fiske having seen to it that I was an honorary
member of the Lyric Club. The teetotal madness of
New York which I found in full blast was only temporary,
and the obnoxious rule was rescinded a few weeks later,
but first impressions are seldom quite dispelled, and
certainly this one of mine has never been.

CHAPTER XXIX

Scintillae Juris — First Impression of Mr Justice Darling — I assist at
his First Election — The Consequences— Contempt of Court —
Bradlaugh and H. H. Asquith — Admonition of Mr Justice
Hawkins — Result of the Crown Prosecution — Further
Troubles — Prosecuted at Bow Street and the Old Bailey
for Libel — Found Guilty — The Conviction quashed' — Civil
Action for the same Libel — Verdict that it is no Libel at all —
Costs irrecoverable — £1500 sacrificed

I FORGET exactly when it was, but it must- have
been in the early eighties when I was in Court
at Westminster and heard a very youthful-looking
junior counsel conducting a case with what seemed
to me quite remarkable ability. The result was that
when I was asked a week or two later by the late C. E.
Goldring (solicitor) if I could recommend any young
counsel, other than myself, as likely to do justice to a
brief, I replied that there was one whom I had recently
heard, and his name was Darling. Whether the present
Mr Justice Darling was briefed accordingly I forget, but
my recommendation was certainly given.

Later on I was mixed up with this same Mr Darling
in a manner that had for me unfortunate results. In
the beginning of 1888, there had arisen a question about
the right of public meeting in Trafalgar Square. Various
riots had followed, and the Opposition was attacking
Lord Salisbury's Government on the subject. A man
named Peters had received a cheque for £25 from
Lord Salisbury for some perfectly legitimate object,
and Mr Bradlaugh happened to hear of this payment.
He thereupon publicly declared that Lord Salisbury had
given Peters £25 to assist in promoting the Trafalgar
Square riots, so as to bring the Opposition into disrepute,

306

DARLING AND DEPTFORD 307

and on these statements being published, Peters com-
menced an action for libel against Bradlaugh.

At that time there was a vacancy for the Deptford
Constituency, and Darling was the Unionist candidate
against Evelyn, a very popular local candidate.
Bradlaugh bestirred himself very energetically over this
election, and kept repeating again and again his story
about Lord Salisbury having given £25 to promote riots,
and how he could bring his lordship to book in twenty-
four hours if the law's delays were dispensed with.

This being the state of affairs, there came to me, on the
afternoon of 22nd February 1888, two accredited Unionist
agents from Deptford with the information that, so far
from being able to bring Lord Salisbury to book in twenty-
four hours, Bradlaugh would next day apply in chambers
for a month's extension of time to deliver his defence in
the action which Peters had brought against him. I was
asked to publish these facts in our issue which was just
about to go to press, and send down several thousand
copies for distribution at the docks and in the constituency
generally. I verified the correctness of the story and then
wrote the following, which was published next day : —

The obvious insincerity of Mr Bradlaugh ... is proved by the
fact that an action for libel has been brought against Mr Bradlaugh
by Mr Peters, which will raise the identical issue so loudly clamoured
for by Mr Bradlaugh. Of course it will not give Mr Bradlaugh
so good an advertisement as he desires, but it will prove whether
he committed perjury or not.

It will hardly be credited by those who are aware of Mr Brad-
laugh's ostensibly raging desire to clear his character from the
imputation of perjury, that at this very moment he is privately
asking for time as he is not prepared to defend himself. On this
very day (Thursday) Mr Bradlaugh 's solicitors will appear before
Master Manley Smith in Chambers, craving a month's extension
of the period in which their client is to deli ver his defence in the
action brought against him by Mr Peters, who, he declared, received
Lord Salisbury's cheque. This is a pretty state of things truly.
The man who has publicly alleged on numerous occasions that he
can at any time within twenty-four hours prove his assertion as
to Lord Salisbury's cheque, to be at one and the same time roaring

308 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

the House of Commons down in his pretended desire for immediate
enquiry, and seeking in secret, by legal quibbles, to evade inquiry
for another month.

Nor is this the first similar step Mr Bradlaugh has taken in this
action. It was brought in the Lord Mayor's court in the first
instance, where it would have come to a speedy issue, but his
solicitors artfully prevented this by getting the same Master
Manley Smith to remove it by certiorari to the High Courts, and,
even before that, they had obtained seven days' extension of time
for delivering defence. Mr Justice Field, on being appealed to,
did not reverse the order, but advised the parties to bring the case
on as quickly as possible. Now Mr Bradlaugh is trying for another
month's time, and Mr Peters meanwhile rests under the imputa-
tion of having received Lord Salisbury's cheque to promote
Trafalgar Square meetings. The thing is monstrous ; more especi-
ally as Mr Bradlaugh is acting not merely for self-advertisement,
but to keep an accusation which he knows to be false, as
long as possible without legal refutation, so that the public mind
may be poisoned by it and the impending elections influenced.
It is to be hoped Master Manley Smith has too much sense of the
dignity of his position to fall in with Mr Bradlaugh 's views.

The above was written very hastily, as the paper was
going to press ; but I knew the facts were correctly stated,
and being circulated broadcast in Deptford next day it
produced a strong revulsion against Mr Bradlaugh and
the campaign of calumny which he had been conducting
throughout the constituency. Darling got in, and I got
thanked for what I had done. So far, so good.

Now we come to the other side of the picture. The
enemy had been stung to the quick by what had happened,
and not long afterwards I was summoned to appear in the
Court of Queen's Bench to answer for Contempt of Court,
and the leader in the proceedings against me was no other
than Mr H. H. Asquith ! I was supposed to have inter-
fered with the course of justice, by commenting as I had
done on the case of Peters v. Bradlaugh which was sub
judice.

In the first instance we retained Sir Robert Finlay
as leader and had a conference with him. He will re-
member it, I have no doubt, for he was much amused over
the situation ; but for some reason his engagements did

CONTEMPT OF COURT 309

not permit him to take the brief, and we secured another
leader whose very name I have, at this distance of time,
forgotten, but he was a good man, and made a brave show
throughout the whole of one day before Manisty and
Hawkins, JJ. Now the latter of these was a bitter old
Radical, and it was easy to see we were in for trouble.
The first day's proceedings resulted in a verbatim report
of all my observations about Bradlaugh being published
in The Times and the other dailies, but at the close of
that first day Mr Justice Manisty had said to my counsel :
" I think, Mr , you had better consider before to-
morrow's sitting, what course you will pursue."

This meant, of course, that we had to climb down and
cease fighting. I made an affidavit in the morning,
apologising to the Court, and saying I had never intended
to interfere with the course of justice, but simply to assist
at the Deptford election. This latter statement was in-
judicious, for it enraged Mr Justice Hawkins, and then,
after my counsel had said all he could for me, and Mr
Asquith had added that there was no desire on the part
of Mr Bradlaugh for extreme measures, I sat down in the
well of the court to await the result : and a somewhat
ominous incident had occurred as I was going to the
court that morning, for as I got into an omnibus at
Charing Cross, the conductor shouted lustily : " Holloway
— Holloway ! "

For more than twenty minutes the two judges conferred,
and I could see from his expression that if Sir Henry
Hawkins could have had his way, to Holloway I should
have gone : but Mr Justice Manisty was of milder mood,
and he was the senior judge : so at last they settled it
and proceeded to pronounce sentence. Manisty had
the first go, and as I sat watching him speak, he said :
" It is usual to stand up on these occasions " — so up I
stood, like a boy at school, and begged pardon for my
oversight. Then he went on for a few minutes on the
vital importance of justice being done between parties,
and the iniquity of in any way interfering with this.

3io " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! '

Meanwhile I had many friends in court who were immensely
entertained by my really absurd position. Mr Justice
Manisty concluded by saying that I was to be fined
£20 and costs. This meant something considerably over
£200 in all.

Then Mr Justice Hawkins began, and having been
baulked of his Holloway vengeance, he let out as best
he could with words. I thought at once the best way to
meet this was to assume a look of absolute stupidity and
stare full in his face all the time without showing any
semblance of noticing a word he said. This I did through-
out fully twenty minutes, and I could see that he became
more and more angry at my absolutely impassive con-
dition. " The form of his countenance changed " and
he heaped words on words of condemnation, but I con-
tinued to look vacantly at him without the slightest
external indication that I even heard, still less under-
stood what he was talking about.

It was a somewhat subtle method of getting a bit of
my own back, but I know very well it drove right home.

All this possesses no small interest inasmuch as it is so
intimately concerned with the first advances in the career
of Mr Justice Darling, who is generally regarded as the
best judge on the Bench at the present time. I was
giving evidence before him in a horse case three or four
years ago, and I wondered then whether he remembered
these things.

Commenting on the Contempt proceedings, The Observer,
26th March 1888, said :

Mr Peters, it will be remembered, commenced his action against
Mr Bradlaugh in the Mayor's Court. The defendant had succeeded
in removing it into the High Court, and applied to Mr Manley
Smith for a month's time to plead. At this period the paragraphs
complained of appeared. They contrasted, and unsparingly
commented on, the steps Mr Bradlaugh was then taking and his
previous demand in the House of Commons for immediate inquiry
into his dispute with Lord Salisbury. The editor avowed the
authorship, and stated that he wrote with no intention of reflecting
on the Court or of prejudicing the defendant in the action ; his

BRADLAUGH'S PARTY AND OURS 311

object was to reply to the insinuations made against Lord Salisbury
and the Conservative Party, and incidentally to aid the latter in
the Deptford election. He has been duly fined, and tMere the
matter ends, so far as St Stephen's Review is concerned.

It remains to be added that when the Peters v. Brad-
laugh case came on for trial Bradlaugh admitted in the
witness-box that he had no defence, apologised for what
he had said about Lord Salisbury's cheque, and the jury
assessed the damages he had to pay at £300. This, with
the costs, was promptly subscribed by his party, and I
wrote, on 28th April 1888 :

It is not a point on which we care to dwell, but we may be
pardoned for just adverting to it. Our case with Mr Bradlaugh
cost about ^200. No one disputes that we acted for the Con-
servative Party at Deptford — yet we might have lain in Holloway,
or have been sold up or otherwise ruined, and not a farthing would
have come from the Conservative Party. There would have been
letters of sympathy — oh dear, yes ! — and lots of offers to mention
the matter to others, but no hard cash. It is for this reason that
we are amused when foolish persons talk of St Stephen's Review
being subsidised by the Conservative Party. We are, fortunately,
able to pay our own fines, even when incurred for and on behalf
of the party. It is better that it should be so.

That was an end of the matter save that Lord Salisbury
wrote me a letter saying that he fully understood what
my motives had been and that the opinion expressed by
the judges was not generally approved.

I should add, however, that the Crown prosecution
instituted before I went to America in 1887 against our
printer and publisher, for libelling the Middlesex Magis-
trates, had ended somewhat farcically some time before
this Contempt of Court case. The Attorney-General
and the Solicitor-General had both appeared to support
the dignity of the Crown, an-d the two defendants, of course,
were on view, the printer, Gate, being a portly old gentle-
man of considerable size, and the publisher, Tarry, on a
smaller scale.

Mr Attorney, after some preliminary observations as to

312 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

the importance of keeping pure the fount of justice,
proceeded to state that the defendants, it was found, were
not personally responsible for the libel, and had not even
been cognisant of it until it was brought to their notice.
They had expressed their regret that it should have
appeared in a paper to which their names were attached,
and they had undertaken to exercise great care in future
to prevent any recurrence of such an offence. In the
circumstances it was not proposed to offer any evidence.

The defendants were accordingly discharged, and some
of the Middlesex Magistrates breathed more freely.

This conclusion did not suit the Opposition Press at all,
and Mr W. T. Stead published a diatribe against it in The
Pall Mall Gazette. Why, he asked, had the editor of
St Stephen's Review not been prosecuted instead of these
two harmless persons, against whom no evidence could be
offered?

It was well known, he continued, that the editor had
been sent by the Government to America under the pre-
text of buying horses there, but really to be out of the
way !

Of course, this statement was totally devoid of founda-
tion, but it mattered not to me.

Legal troubles continued to accumulate, for while I
was in court over the Bradlaugh business, the sub-editor
sent the paper to press with the seeds of further trouble
in it. This was the issue of 24th March 1888, and it
contained a paragraph in reference to a so-called " London
Anti-coercion and Home Rule Committee," which, it said :

consists of some half-dozen gabblers who infest Hyde Park,
Mile End waste, the arches beneath St Pancras Station and
Clerkenwell Green at various times during Sunday ; make illiterate,
lying and abusive speeches, and of course go round with the hat.
. . . These sham delegates are simply persons who fell out with
hard — and honest — work many years ago and have never made
up the quarrel yet. Neither will they, while they have a wife or a
mo thereto keep them in "boozy " idleness, and can find crowds
of gaping idiots willing to subscribe their hard-earned shillings
and pence to find them in luxuries.

PROSECUTED 313

In an early part of the paragraph they were described
as " profit-seeking itinerant agitators " and " Hyde Park
plunderers of the poor." Two of them were mentioned
by name.

It was a stupid thing to give such people the chance of
an advertisement, for we had plenty of rich enemies ready
to help them or anyone else to attack us. Thus it happened
that by some mysterious means the Attorney-General's
fiat was obtained for the prosecution of the editor,
proprietors, publishers and printers of St Stephen's Review,
and on this large order, fifteen or sixteen defendants were
proceeded against. The paper was owned by a limited
company which never had any shareholders except the
original seven clerks who signed for a share each, for the
formality of registration. These seven, or such of them
as could be found, were prosecuted. Messrs Judd & Co.,
the printers, were in similar case, and the directors of
their company were included. One of these was Mr James
Judd, a highly reputable Common Council man, and his
indignation at the fate that had befallen him was really
amusing. " Nothing," he cried, " will induce me to go
and stand where criminals have stood ! "

The first proceedings were at Bow Street. Mr Bowen
Rowlands, Q.C., appeared for us. and MrBesley for Messrs
Judd. The prosecutors were supported by numerous
rich Radicals, prominent among whom was Mr Dadabhai
Naoraji. The Rev. Stuart Headlam also assisted them
with evidence, and altogether we were up against a strange
crowd. Now, to justify a libel in criminal proceedings
you have to prove not merely that it was published for
the public benefit, but that every word of it is true.
One of the men whom we had mentioned proved to be a
teetotaller, and the word " boozy " as applied to him was
indefensible. Therefore, with him we effected an amicable
settlement. The other man went on, and at Bow Street
such a defence as justification is not gone into. We were
formally committed for trial at the Old Bailey, and
Mr Judd's horror on hearing this was such that, quite

314 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

contrary to his custom, he went to Ascot races when the
trial came on, as it provokingly did, during Ascot week.
More than that, Mr Judd's absence was never discovered,
his counsel, Mr Besley, being ready with some excuse on
the few occasions when the Recorder inquired why Mr Judd
was not in court.

The case lasted a day and a half, and the proceedings
were really laughable. The complainant appeared in a
large green tie to advertise his " all-for-Ireland " politics,
and various lights of Radicalism gave more or less foolish
evidence. Mr Stuart Headlam was closely questioned as
to his own political tenets, and whether he had not described
landlords as robbers. Altogether, it seemed that we were
going to have pretty nearly a walk-over, and the Recorder,
Sir Thomas Chambers, summed up so utterly in our
favour, that the result was — so I thought — a foregone
conclusion.

Then the jury considered their verdict, and they did
not take a long time about it. The foreman was asked,
in the usual way, the decision — and my name being
alphabetically first, I now heard the momentous question :

WILLIAM ALLISON,

Guilty or not guilty ?

" Guilty ! " was the reply.

Well, this was rather a " shocker," being so completely
unexpected ; but before I had time to think about it
they had run down the whole list of other defendants and
pronounced every one to be " guilty."

The Recorder hardly concealed his astonishment at
the verdict, and he immediately discharged us all on our
own recognisances to come up for judgment when called
on.

This, of course, amounted to nothing, or, as you might
say, a farthing damages in a civil case. I think the jury
must have resented the Recorder's summing up so strongly
in our favour : but, be that as it may, our case was the
last criminal libel ever tried under the law as it then was,

THE INDIGNATION OF JAMES JUDD 315

for an amending Act was passed soon afterwards and no
such scandalous use of legal processes would now be
possible.

As it was, the conviction was subsequently quashed,
for though I did not care two straws about it, Mr James
Judd could not endure to think of himself as a convicted
criminal ; so he set the law in motion once more, and it
was held by the Court of Crown Cases Reserved that the
Attorney-General's Fiat for the Prosecution was bad,
as being too indefinite. The judges were unanimous on
this point as regards the terms, " proprietors, printers
and publishers," but there was a division of opinion as
to whether " the editor " was not sufficiently specific.
Three judges against two decided that it was not, and so
even I was cleared.

All would now have been well, but the Messrs Judd,
anxious to carry the war into the enemy's camp, went for
the complainant and made him bankrupt for their costs.
His host of Radical supporters were ready with any
amount of money for the attack on us, but not with a
farthing that might find its way to us, so no costs were
forthcoming.

And then a worse thing happened. An action was
started in the Civil Courts against us for the same libel.
I knew a certain amount about law, but it was a revelation
to me that such a process was possible, after the criminal
one had been quashed ; but there was no mistake about
it, and as the plaintiff was a bankrupt, with assets nil,
we applied in chambers for security for costs, and got
an order accordingly.

This order, however, was reversed on appeal, as it was
contended that libel was a personal offence, and a man
should not be debarred from redress by his poverty.
So we were up to be shot at once more by a man of straw,
supported by the same Radical capitalists as before.
The case came on before Baron Huddlestone, and the
plaintiff had a bad time of it, as also had his backers.
He was a milk-dealer, and in answer to Interrogatories

316 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

had furnished the names and addresses of about fifty
people who, he said, had ceased to deal with him in con-
sequence of the libel. We sent round to all these and,
without exception, they all denied the truth of the plaintiff's
particulars. The plaintiff again wore a green tie, but
Baron Huddlestone made short work of him. It was left
to the jury whether the statements complained of were a
libel at all, and if so whether we had justified them.
The jury, without leaving the box, found that there was
no libel, and there was judgment for the defendants, with
costs.

It is needless to say that not a farthing of costs was ever
recovered from the plaintiff, and we had been pursued in
this manner for fully a year and a half for what the jury
ultimately decided was not a libel at all. Our own expenses
amounted to fully £1500, and it was particularly aggra-
vating that constant newspaper reports led to the idea that
we were always libelling people, whereas it was the same
old bogus case all the way through. Mr Akers Douglas
more than once, when I used to go to Downing Street
to hear any scraps of news, said to me : " Surely you
must be rather indiscreet to be involved in so many libel
cases ! "

This interminable case ended at last, however, and for
a while there was respite from legal troubles.

CHAPTER XXX

Recollections of Romano's — " The Squire '-'• and his Satellites —
Colonel North's Fancy Dress Ball — Return of Phil May —
Splendid Work — Phil May at his Best — A great Christmas
Number — Phil May's Methods — Invention of The Parson
and the Painter — The Hansard Union Fight — An Unsought -
for Combat — How it was fought — Bubbles — Horatio
Bottomley, a John Bull Fighter — The Publishing Trade
warned — The Fire -Escape and Parnell — The Hansard
Union killing St Stephen's before its own Demise — I clear out

OUR office being in John Street, Adelphi, made me
a regular habitue of Romano's for luncheon and
so forth, in the days when it was of the rifle
gallery width, and a delightful place it was. Of course
I well knew all The Sporting Times crowd of that day,
more particularly " the Shifter " and " Gubbins." The
" Roman " himself was an ideal host, though always with
an eye to the main chance. For example, he had been
caught one day by a man who betted him an even fiver
that he could see the clock at the Law Courts from the
pavement just in front of the restaurant. Not one man
in a hundred would believe that this can be done, but it
can, and so Romano found when he stepped outside to
make trial and decide the wager.

He paid the £5 and waited an opportunity. This
occurred — as he thought — the next day, when he intro-
duced the question about seeing the Law Courts clock
from the pavement outside. A customer ridiculed the
idea and ultimately bet an even £10 that the clock
could not be seen. Romano, of course, thought the £10
already won, and they stepped out to settle the matter.
There was no clock to be seen at all that day ! It had
been removed for repairs, and Romano had to disburse
£10, to his unutterable disgust.

317

3i8 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Romano's at that time was like the most cheery
Bohemian Club, but it was spoiled for a while, later on,
when "The Squire " (Abington Baird) made it the head-
quarters of himself and the pugilistic fraternity. I
never minded this a bit for I was good friends with all
of them, and they never, even in their worst moods,
troubled me : but other visitors were subjected to un-
bearable insults from time to time. Thus, on one occasion,
when Pottinger Stephens was sitting smoking a cigarette
after his lunch, " The Squire " came lurching past him
and snatched the cigarette out of his mouth. Of course
he jumped up, as anyone would do, to forcibly resent such
an outrage, and then there gathered round him three or
four fighting men whom I could name. They said
nothing, but, like a wise man, he sat down again. That
afternoon Stephens had a Police Court summons for
assault served on " The Squire," and I wrote a real
scorching paragraph on the incident for our paper, which
went to press the same evening, but about 10.30 P.M.
I received a special message from Stephens, who knew
of my intention, saying he had withdrawn the summons,
and would I cut out anything I had written about the
matter. " The Squire " would pay almost anything
sooner than face a law court, and whatever solatium he
offered was no doubt a very big one. I was very sorry,
all the same, to cut out that paragraph It needed no
courage to have published it, for none of the gang would
ever have laid a hand on me — of that I was quite sure.
Indeed the fighting men were good fellows enough, only
utterly spoiled for the time being by their rich patron,
who had but one redeeming merit, that he could ride
fairly well on the flat. He used to get all his wine and
cigars from Romano, which alone meant a very big trade,
but the fact that the place was haunted by such a gang
frightened the average reputable customer away from it.

In those days, too, I saw a great deal of the Savage
Club. I was not a member, but my sub-editor, Tasker
(" Edgar Lee "), was, and I think no one has ever

Politics for the Nursery.

OOK AT LIT-TLE RAN-DY PAN-DYT

Once he (ought for su-gar can-dy—
Thinking 'twould be such a treat-
In a place called Down-ing Street
But he fcund, to his de-lpair,
Nought but bit-ter stuff was there,
So, you see, with-out de-lay
Ran-dy Pan-dy ran a-way.-
Then the oth-er boys cried out :
" Ran-dy, what are you about ?

Stay i

t bjr

But the dis-ap-point-ed lad
Thought the place was ve-iy bad ;
So in an-ger he went forth
Till he found John Tom-my North,
And with him be-gan to play
In a real-ly pleavant Fay.
Mas-ter North has loads of toys,

And to Ran-dy Pan-d) he
Gave them ve-ry gen'r-uus-ly
Soon we see the happy pa.r
Free from er'r-y thought ol care,

Both so iol-!y, both so gay.
Playing horses evV-y day.

But the mas-ters look as-lcan«
While these pu-pils jump and pranci
Play-ing horaes, as they fear,
Can-not fail to cosr them dear
iVork is wait-ing, close a^nd han-dy,
Bet-ter far for Ran-dy Pan-dy !

/. Stephen's Review" Nov. 30,

COLONEL NORTH'S GREAT BALL 319

associated with the " Savages " without deriving con-
siderable personal benefit.

All was going fairly well with the paper. In this, its
latest stage, Raymond Radclyffe had joined me, as the
financial editor, he taking sole charge of the business side
of the paper and I of the editorial. He is a singularly
able man, and we seemed fairly on the highway to fortune,
for just at the end of that year, 1888, there came the glad
news that Phil May had returned to Europe and was at
Rome. He never thought of working for any but his
first friends, and, though he was staying to study in
Rome, he wrote to say he would send sketches from there
regularly. This was good news indeed, for he had made
a great name in Australia, where they appreciated his
genius much more rapidly than did the English people.

It so happened that Colonel North was going to give
a tremendous fancy dress ball at the Metropole Hotel
on the 4th January 1889, and that was when the nitrate
boom was in full blast. Everyone, from highest to lowest,
was running after the jovial Colonel, for the nitrate
companies kept coming out in rapid succession and the
shares were always at two or three premium as soon as the
prospectus had appeared. If you could only obtain an
allotment of some of them you had nothing to do but sell,
and rake in your profit. How it was all managed I have
no idea, but if you had money enough to pay the applica-
tion amount for whatever number of shares you wanted,
and were sufficiently in favour to get some portion of them
allotted, you could make your profit forthwith.

Now it occurred to me that it would be really great to
have Phil May at Colonel North's ball, and I wrote to the
Colonel asking him if he would stand the expense of bring-
ing him over from Rome. He asked what that would
amount to. I replied suggesting £50, which was little
enough in all conscience, but Colonel North, who was
not a self-advertiser, by nature, didn't think it good
enough. I received that answer from him at the Junior
Carlton Club, where he was surrounded by such as Lord

320 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE 1 "

Randolph Churchill, Lord Abergavenny, etc., etc., and I
then went to our office, where to my surprise and delight
I found Phil May, who had come over on a flying visit.

That was splendid, for I soon got him an invitation to the
ball, which he treated with the freedom born of irresponsi-
bility. The whole ground floor and the whole basement
of the Metropole were taken for that ball, and the whole
of the champagne in the hotel was consumed.

Phil May did a splendid double-page drawing of the
affair. This is now in the possession of Sir Harry North
and must be worth a very large sum, but Colonel North
on first sight of the paper tore it up in wrath and kicked
out the old canvasser who had come to ask him how
many copies he wanted. What specially annoyed him
was the sketch of himself, as Henry VIII., saying : " Cost
me £8000 and I can't get a drink."

It is a fact that the Colonel could not get a glass of
champagne at the conclusion of the proceedings ; but
after thinking about what Phil May had done he saw the
humour of it, and, as I told him when I met him, the
" can't get a drink " sketch only illustrated his un-
bounded hospitality. " If," said I, "we had represented
any of your guests as unable to get a drink, that would
have been a very different matter." He saw the point,
and he had already secured 1000 copies of the paper for
the benefit of his friends. In the centre of that drawing
is Colonel North with Lady Randolph Churchill, and on
their right appear Lord Randolph and Mrs North. The
whole thing is a glorious piece of black and white art, and
any attempted description would be futile. It shows so
clearly the truth of Whistler's dictum : " Black and
White Art is— Phil May."

Phil May returned to Rome, where he remained some
months and sent us priceless gems of his work from time
to time. Then he went to Paris and had a studio there,
where his series of " Life in Paris " was quite inimitable.
Still, I had a very strong idea that as I had understood him
from the first, so did I still understand him, better even

PHIL MAY 321

than he did himself, and that he would never be shown
at his very best until something was written for him which
would bring out his extraordinary combination of powers
as both caricaturist and artist. When I say " Caricatur-
ist/' I ought, perhaps, to speak rather of his power to
look at men for a minute or two and fix them in his
memory. Once in the earlier days I took him to Kempton
Park and pointed out all the people I wanted him to make
a note of. It was pouring with rain, and he could not
make a single pencil note, but he looked at those people —
about twenty in number — and made a page drawing that
night with every likeness strikingly good, except — as I
thought — that of Colonel McMurdo, and he was recognised
by a stranger in the Strand who had only, up to that time,
seen the sketch in St Stephen's.

Well then, I thought of an idea which in my judgment
would show the man in the street the very best of Phil
May, of whom by this time I had become very proud.
This was done by writing Politics for the Nursery and
asking him to illustrate the letterpress. The result was
really great, as I think anyone will agree who looks at the
few samples that it is possible to give in this book. They
are necessarily reduced to small scale, and are from St
Stephen's itself, not from the originals.

I need not make any comment on Phil May's work in
these sketches, except that I never gave any suggestion
as to what I wanted. He simply had the verses to
illustrate in any way he thought fit. To my mind
" Master North " offering " good advice " to " Randy-
Pandy " is as near perfection as we shall ever see. It was
at the time when Lord Randolph was first interesting
himself greatly in racing.

The strength of Phil May's line drawing is demonstrated
by the way in which it has stood production from an old
paper in these illustrations.

For the Christmas Number of that year Phil May did
a splendid big cartoon, one of the very best things he
ever did. The number was entitled Crime, and the idea

322 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

was to show a future condition of our country, similar
to that which prevails in Russia now. This big cartoon
comprised all the leading men of the day in convict's
garb and doing their exercise in a prison yard. It was a
wonderful success, and ought some day to be reproduced.
In that number there was given a specimen " Contents
Bill " of The Star as it was supposed to be in the terrible
times that were coming. It ran thus :

EXECUTION OF BLOODY BALFOUR
THE MURDERER OF OUR BRETHREN

BROUGHT TO THE

FAGGOT AND THE FLAME

HE EXPIRES IN HORRIBLE AGONY

IRELAND NOBLY AVENGED

SCENES AT THE FUNERAL PYRE

WHAT PRICE THE TORIES Now ?

CAPTAIN COE'S FINALS

Even The Star was amused at this.

Certainly we ended that year very well indeed, not-
withstanding the losses that had been incurred in law
costs. People were beginning to appreciate Phil May at
last, and we only looked forward to the time when he would
return permanently to England. Some there were who
scarcely realised that he had ever been away. One such
was a needy old actor who used to frequent the Strand
and often repair to Romano's bar in search of some kindly
friend. Just before leaving England for Australia
Phil May went to Romano's to say good-bye to any
friends there. The waif referred to was among those
present, and he simply said : " Phil, old man, lend me
half-a-crown, will you ? " Needless to say, his request
was granted.

Now when Phil May paid his first return visit to
England, after more than three years, he dropped in
at Romano's to shake hands with any of the old lot
who might be present. The old waif was there, in the
same place as before, and almost unchanged. He did

Till their screams are heard a-far -
Horrid cowards that they are •

Un-cle Ce-cil looks with joy
On the progress of the boy.
nd the mas-ters all sur-mise
ie will gain the high-est prize .
And h« com-radei al-ways 3»y

He

Only Ran dy Pan-dy winks,
Tell-ing no one what he thinks,
But 'tis aaid he's not a greed
Thus tofol-low Ar-thurslead,
And. I know, some folks have reck-(
Ran-dy will be first, not te-cond ;
Though at pre-sent it would seem
He u in a nc-ing dream,
And will nei-ther learn nor pUy
Wii', his school-mates day by day.

Mi-ny a nas-ty 1-nsh cad
Rues the brat-ing he has had
T'hen he ven-tured to of-fend
A-ny .ho was Ar-thur'i friend
1-ri.h bul-lies-ao not dare
Now to itir, it Ar-thur's the-
If a lu-ilc boy they touch,
Ar-thur hum Ihcn. »e ry r,,.,.

Mas-ter Nonh-if re«l-ly i
Oujht to give him jood ad-«ce-

From " Si. Stephen* Review" Dec. 21, /<!

THE PARSON AND THE PAINTER 323

not express any surprise or pleasure at the meeting after
so long an interval, but once more said : " Phil, old
man, lend me half-a-crown, will you ? " Such was
the greeting extended to Phil May at Romano's on his
homecoming.

He always found the wherewithal to respond to such
demands, though before he went to Australia he was
often desperately hard up himself. He and Mrs May
used to live in a little three-roomed flat in Covent
Garden, and she used to do all the domestic work, but
they seemed quite happy. I once supped in that flat
when Phil May came of age. There were about half-a-
dozen of us present, among them being A. M. Broadley,
who was then by way of editing The World for Edmund
Yates, and also doing much propaganda work for
Augustus Harris and Drury Lane. As we were crowded
in that little room, the lay figure got much in the way,
but there was nowhere else to put it. I can see that
lay figure very conspicuously in much of Phil May's
early work, but after his return from Australia he always
used proper models.

It is not strictly true that he reduced his work with
special care to the really important lines because
the processes of reproduction were in those days so
bad. Phil May's line drawing was always so clear and
strong that it lost practically nothing by reproduction
at any time. He liked, however, to show how much
could really be done by a few lines, and there he was
certainly a past master. It was not in his early days
that he made these sketches in which so much was shown
by so little. It was in the latter times when he was a
much more consummate artist and had made a full study
of anatomy.

He returned to England for some time in the spring of
1890, and it was then that I thought out the scheme of
The Parson and the Painter, which was to bring out the
very best that was then in him. The idea was a simple
one — viz. that an unsophisticated Parson should deem it

324 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

his duty to see life in its various phases so as to be better
able to instruct his flock. He has an artist nephew who
takes him round town, and round Paris, and also to race
meetings, to Scarborough and other gay places. The
Parson writes and the Painter illustrates their experiences.
I should say here that we did actually go to all the places
and scenes dealt with, though, of course, the bare facts
are much expanded. If anything better has ever been
done by a black and white artist, I, at any rate, have
never seen it. The double-page drawings of An Undress
Rehearsal at the Alhambra and The Pelicans at Home
are really wonders. Then, too, the Night with Slavin
is intensely humorous. I remember the morning it came
out, for I took the paper over to Romano's and showed
it to Slavin, who was there. It struck me while doing so
that if by any chance he did not see the joke my position
might be precarious ; but he saw it right enough and was
delighted.

Now I was sure that with the Parson and Painter
idea all would now be well for the paper, but something
utterly unforeseen happened which effectually darkened
the prospect.

I will not go into it minutely here ; for any animosities
and hostilities that it created have long since died out,
and Mr Horatio Bottomley and I, who were in some
measure protagonists in the contest, have had many other
and better subjects to think about since then.

I refer to the case of " The Hansard Publishing Union
Limited," in which Mr Bottomley was the moving spirit ;
and he had the Lord Mayor of London, Sir Henry Isaacs,
as chairman of the company.

The acquisition of the Hansard copyright was a very
clever move, for that seemed at once to suggest stability.
For the rest, the company was, in effect, an attempted
combine of the printing trade of London and a good deal
of the paper-making. Into the merits or demerits of the
scheme and its ramifications I will not enter here — indeed
they never at any time interested me ; but I will just give

THE HANSARD UNION 325

a few facts that serve to show the sequence of events
which ended both the Hansard Union and St Stephen's
Review.

I have already stated that Radclyffe was our finance
editor. It happened in July, 1890, that he was ill and away
at Cookham, but he sent up copy for the paper of 26th July,
and it consisted of a letter severely criticising the balance-
sheet of the Hansard Union . I simply read this in ordinary
course and passed it for press. I left the paper " made
up " at about 11.30 P.M. and next morning it came out
with the finance article removed and some overmatter
paragraphs substituted under the headline : " Interesting
Items."

It soon transpired that this was the work of our printer,
who was being absorbed into the Hansard Union and was
to be one of the managing directors. He had waited
until I had left overnight, and then taken upon himself
to remove the article, which he thought might damage
that company.

It was, of course, impossible to sit down under this treat-
ment, and yet how ineffably foolish the printer's action
was ! He had printed for us for three years and we
were good friends. I personally knew absolutely nothing
about the Hansard Union, and if he had come to me and
asked me not to let this article go in, as it might prove
injurious to him, I would have stopped it with pleasure —
at any rate until Radclyffe came back to attend to the
matter ; but as it was, I was forced into a fight for which
I had no sort of wish. I at once instructed solicitors ;
made an affidavit on the facts and we got leave to serve
short notice of motion on the printer that same afternoon.
About two days afterwards he consented to an order
that he should print any reasonable and proper matter
I instructed him to print; and, on that, I demanded
2000 copies of the Finance page as I had passed it for press.
This together with an autograph letter of my own explain-
ing what had happened, and produced in facsimile, we
sent broadcast to the Stock Exchange.

326 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

Thus the fat was thoroughly in the fire.

At the further proceedings in our action against the
printers I met Mr Bottomley, who threatened many pains
and penalties to our company for infringements of com-
pany law. I thereupon had the Hansard Union sued
before its chairman, Lord Mayor Isaacs, at the Mansion
House for neglecting to register somethingor other — Iforget
what — at Somerset House, and he was obliged to fine them.

Having now got fairly on the warpath, I brought out
an issue of St Stephen's specially devoted to the Hansard
Union, with a lovely cartoon in it of Sir Henry Isaacs, in
his Lord Mayor's robes, as Millais's picture of Bubbles,
the principal bubble being, of course, labelled " The
Hansard Publishing Union Limited." These cartoons
we printed in large numbers, and they were sold at a
penny each outside the Mansion House.

I think the cartoon was too good to be utterly forgotten
so am reproducing it here, though it must be clearly
understood that I do so without the slightest vestige of
ill feeling — by which, indeed, I was at no time actuated.
It just serves to show how I fought in a contest that was
none of my seeking.

After this the Hansard Union spent a lot of money
on advertisements trying to suggest that Radclyffe had
been trying to blackmail them or Mr Bottomley ; but that
was all nonsense, as was admitted when our action went
a step further and then Sir Charles Russell and another
eminent Q.C. were briefed to alarm us. They did not
have that effect, and according to terms which Sir Charles
Russell himself drew up our printers paid us £50 damages,
all imputations on Radclyffe were withdrawn, and we
agreed to let the Hansard Union alone until their next
balance-sheet was published. Something about those
terms did not suit Mr Bottomley, and he wrote to the
papers to say that they did not concern the Hansard
Union at all, but only us and our printers. The Hansard
Union was in fact mentioned four or five times in the
terms, so that this action on Mr Bottomley's part started

BUBBLES"

Dedicated to the Lord Mayor of London and Mr. Herat io Bottomley,

H'ith apologies to ' ' Pears' Soaj> "
From ''St. Stephens Ker'iew," Aug. 9, /<%»>

AN UNSOUGHT-FOR COMBAT 327

the fight once more. It was recommenced by our printer
suddenly announcing one Tuesday afternoon that he would
not print the paper any more. We had to go to press on
Wednesday and they had control of most of the printing
trade. The position was one of much difficulty, and Mr
Bottomley has written in a book of his that the paper
did not come out that week. In this, however, he is
mistaken, for we managed to find a printer all right, but
only for cash, and with the other we had always done
business on the basis of monthly accounts, and then he
drew on us at three months.

Thus for four months to come there would be the
cheerless prospect of paying cash to one printer and
meeting the bills of the other. In fact it was a double
outlay for that period.

The most deadly move of all was when the enemy
sent round a circular letter to the publishing trade
threatening them with libel actions if they distributed
52 Stephen's Review. This did not affect firms like Messrs
Smith & Sons, but the smaller publishers were easily
alarmed, and the circulation was reduced by over 2000
copies within a fortnight.

Meanwhile, however, the Hansard Publishing Union
had not come off scathless, and was getting badly on the
rocks, though it is far from my purpose to go into that
story. The grievous thing was that The Parson and the
Painter was coming out every week to an artificially
reduced circulation, and I knew so well what was its real
value, if people could only see it.

But we were engaged in a contest with opponents who
were for the time being full of money, and for the first
time in the strenuous eight years of the paper I saw the
shadows really darken. Amid the turmoil of the conflict
Radclyffe recovered from his illness and came back. We
did all possible in the way of guaranteeing publishers
against any conceivable action of the Hansard Union,
but the small ones who sold only a quire or half-a-quire
of the paper were not sufficiently interested to take any

328 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

risks; and so the position got worse and worse. The paper
itself was never so good as in those days, and we used to
have all Tattersalls' advertisements, which alone is a big
asset. Phil May was doing better and better work, so
were Percy Reeve, Tom Merry and all the rest of us, but
the Hansard Union's ban was a very potent one, and we
had never been financially strong.

About that time — it was in November, 1890 — I wrote a
song for the great MacDermott, entitled The Fire-Escape,
and Percy Reeve composed the music. It never
approached the lasting fame of Charlie DUke, but it
was a great success all the same at the London Pavilion,
where it was first sung on ist December of that year, and
was in the bill for six weeks.

It was just after the divorce case in which Mr Parnell
was concerned, and it had transpired in that case that Mr
Parnell, in the prosecution of his amorous adventures,
was in the habit of using a fire-escape — presumably
ordinary bars on the side of the house, but it pleased the
public to think that he took a regulation fire-escape on
wheels to assist him. The words of the song may be
worth quoting :

THE FIRE-ESCAPE

THE fire-escape's a glorious thing
To save a peasant or a king ;
*Tis useful, too, if you desire,
For 'scaping other things than fire.
Perchance by some obnoxious dun
To ground at last you're fairly run,
Or if you hear outside your " den "-
The horrid tramp of sheriff's men —

(Spoken) Visions of Horror ! Holloway looming in the
distance. Is there no chance to fly ? Yes, I have it —

The fire-escape, the fire-escape ;
You save yourself in every scrape,
Of any sort or kind or shape,
By scooting down the fire-escape.

A fire-escape should always be
Provided for each household, free,

THE FIRE-ESCAPE 329

For if, at home, the husband gay
Untrammelled spends a happy day,
And ladies fair and ladies bright
Are there with love and laughter light —
The wife all suddenly arrives ;
How shall they flee and save their lives ?
(Spoken) There is only one way out of it, and that is by —

A fire-escape, a fire-escape,

Of any sort or kind or shape.

Oh ! how they push and scratch and scrape

When bundling down the fire-escape.
The fire-escape, that thing of joy,
Have always handy to employ ;
For if the tax-collector dares
To set his foot upon your stairs,
Or when some lady of the past
Has found your whereabouts at last,
And with a voice not still nor small
Is talking loudly in the hall —
(Spoken) I tell you, it's frightful ; but luckily—

The fire-escape, the fire-escape,

Is ready for you all agape ;

Don't stay too long your form to drape,

But hook it down the fire-escape.
The fire-escape, the masher's friend,
Its ready aid will always lend ;
And if a statesman — sad to tell —
Should love not wisely but too well,
And, in the name of Smith or Brown,
Escort his neighbour's wife to town,
A sudden knock ! — a thrill of fear —
Here comes my husband, Charlie dear I

(Spoken) Heavens ! What a situation ! Hardly time to
put on one's gloves. No chance to avoid detection ; no way
to save the lady's reputation. Oh yes, thank goodness, there is
one. Happy, thrice happy thought —

The fire-escape, the fire-escape 1

It was indeed a merry jape

When Charlie Parnell's naughty shape

Went scooting down the fire-escape 1

MacDermott used to draw roars of applause as he
developed the last verse until the name was given. The
song was published with Mr Parnell on the front cover

330 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

wheeling a fire-escape, with the underline " O Romeo,
Romeo ! " ; but he did not last long in politics after the
affair, and the public, as its wont is, soon began to think
of other men of the more immediate moment.

Our Christmas Number for 1890 was called The Popular
Poll, purporting to be a record of an election under some
dreadful new Reform Act. A supposed extract from The
Star of the period had the following headlines : —

RIOTOUS SCENES AT NEWMARKET
BURNING OF THE JOCKEY CLUB ROOMS

ESCAPE OF THE STEWARDS
MR JAMES LOWTHER INTERVIEWED
PROSPECTS OF THE ELECTION

An extract presumed to be from The Times said :

The candidature of Mr Abington Baird has been received with
many indications of public favour. Mr Baird 's downright full-
flavoured methods of speech are not without their charm among
sporting electors ; and his friends, Mr Charles Mitchell, Mr W.
Goode, Mr J. Carney and others have been singularly successful
in preventing any attempts to disturb the meetings which he has
held.

One of Phil May's page drawings in that number re-
presents the Bar of the New House of Commons, with
Arthur Roberts as the Speaker. Messrs Gladstone and
Parnell are pledging one another, and Romano, with a
smart barmaid, is serving drinks. Tasker and the Shifter
are present, also John Corlett, " Chippy " Bull, Jack
Percival and other strangely mixed celebrities. Like all
Phil May's work; that in this Christmas Number was
strikingly good, notably a portrait of Frank Slavin as
sergeant-at-arms ; but in my opinion the paper had
received its death-blow in the Hansard Union struggle.
Radclyffe thought there was a chance to carry on, and I
decided to leave it to him. I stipulated only to take the
blocks and copyright of The Parson and the Painter, and
so cleared out, 7th February 1891 being the last date on
which my name appears in the paper as having " signed
for the writers."

Politics for the Nursery.

Very fond of dogl, you IM;
But whfn dogs gu mad and bite,
Har-ry thinks it u not right,
So he tried to nuke a rale
For hij coro-rades a the mckool,
That they should without deh)
Muz-zk dog-gies every **••

Tome who thought it »iir to shun
Hib-ii hounds, ex-claimed •' Well don •
F.ut some silly Kent-ish lads
Sulked for pti-tt ctrld-ish fads—

Har-ry Chap-lin quick-ly found
Uuz-zling dogs was dan-ger-ous groun
From the dogs he caught it hot-
Mad oats thus to bite made Iree

r dogs J

" Oh V they screamed, '
Ra-bieswedonoifear;
Muz-ile* would our dog-gies slay-
N'aufh-iy Har-ry, go a way '•

And they very much ap-prove,
Har-ry Chap-lin's piu-dent move
But his work he must not shun—
" Muz-zle all or mui-zle none ! "
And, in-deed, the Mas-ters wink—
Muzzles might be used, they think,
Very right-ly, on the crowd
Of the boys who talk so loud.

I

Othen, too, most fool-ish boys,

•y stu-pid ,
Shrieked in wick-ed pet-tish ipite,

And Po-lice-man X.Y.Z.,
Shook his head, and thus he sud
" Taint a bit o' use at all ,
Muz.>lcnoneormuz.tleall'"

Har-ry muai not be a-lratd
By the none that fools have made
But the good Po-lice-man'f iptech
Ought a bet-ter course to teach
For th« Mas-ters don't ad-nire
Dop re-plctc with rab-id ire

From " St. Stephen's Review, ' February I,

CHAPTER XXXI

Lord Salisbury's Valediction — Phil May, 10 Downing Street —
Dark Days — Appreciation of Horatio Bottomley — Success
of The Parson and the Painter — A New Artist I — With Phil
May at Newmarket — More Financial Trouble — Colonel North
Steeplechasing at Lingfield — What to do next ? — The Special
Commissioner — Am well received — Good Company — William
Easton and the December Sales — Arrange a Sale in U.S.A. —
The International Horse Agency and Exchange develops New
Life

IN that same issue of St Stephen's Review, 7th February
1891, appeared Phil May's last work for the paper.
It was a portrait of Meissonier. I wrote the sporting
article for a month or two more and at last ceased from
doing even that. On gth June 1891 1 received the follow-
ing letter : —

FOREIGN OFFICE.
DEAR MR ALLISON,

Lord Salisbury is sorry to hear that S* Stephen's Review is
no longer to have the benefit of your guidance. He does not doubt
that any journalistic enterprise which you may inaugurate cannot
fail to derive advantage from your management. I am yours
faithfully,

SCHOMBERG K. M'DONNELL.

v

The above had special reference to an explanation I
had sent giving the reason why a series which Phil May
and I had been about to commence in St Stephen's was
not now going to appear. It was entitled Statesmen
at Work, and we had done " Lord Salisbury at the
Foreign Office," thanks to his kindness, very well indeed.
That was to have been the first of the series. Mr W. H.
Smith at 10 Downing Street was to have been the second,
and hereby hangs a rather amusing tale. I had got the
appointment all right for Phil May and myself to go there

33i

332 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

at noon on a certain day, and I wrote to Phil May giving
him the hour and date, with a special note to be punctual.
We were to meet outside 10 Downing Street, and I was
there exactly to time, but he never turned up, and I,
after about twenty minutes of suspense, did not venture
to go in without him, but returned and sent a letter by
hand to apologise as best I could for our non-appearance.
To Phil May I wrote bitterly complaining at his failure
to keep such an appointment, and when he declared he
had never received a letter from me making the appoint-
ment I simply didn't believe him. About a week
afterwards, however, there was returned to me my letter
addressed —

PHIL MAY, Esq.,
10 Downing Street,
Whitehall.

And it was marked " Not known." This was the letter
in which I made the appointment for him to be there, and
it was quite true that he had never received it. I suppose
I must have had 10 Downing Street on the brain to have
made such a mistake in the address.

However, it was all over now, and a bitter wrench it
was to let go, and give up the struggle for the old paper
which I had edited during eight years. Until then I had
believed in myself and what I was pleased to consider
my destiny. Now I had found a task beyond my capacity,
and the shock of the discovery can hardly be realised by
anyone who has not gathered that in all my earlier life I
had been able to do whatever I set about, and that, too,
quite easily.

Bright hopes seemed now to have vanished like a mere
mirage and the outlook was cheerless indeed, for those
eight years of continuous storm and stress had left me
feeling older than I do now, though twenty-eight other
years have passed. The financial position of the paper had
been from first to last precarious, for it was a very costly

DARK DAYS 333

production in its later years. Yet it was paying well for
quite a long time, but then came the extraordinary legal
vicissitudes with resultant costs, and last of all the inter-
necine contest with The Hansard Publishing Union Limited
and Mr Horatio Bottomley. That proved fatal to both
parties; but I will say this, that at that tune I
came to admire and even like Mr Bottomley — he was so
absolutely indomitable and fought so hard. That con-
flict, though certainly fought with the gloves off, left
not a spark of ill feeling behind, and whatever was said
or written about Mr Bottomley in those days, no one can
say now that he has not given whole-hearted service to
his country during the long years of war. He has been
the staunchest upholder of the cause of individual liberty
as against bureaucracy and cant ; and for horse-breeding
and racing in particular his work has been valuable
beyond estimation.

The crisis, from my point of view, however, was rather
dreadful. It seemed out of the question to dash back
into work at the Bar after letting these years slip away.
I was living at Dorman's Cross and took some part during
the bitter winter of 1890 in the making of Lingfield race-
course and stands, but that was only relaxation. Then I
bethought me of The Parson and the Painter, and having
employed a canvasser to get enough advertisements to pay
for the production, I got a publisher to print 10,000 copies
for sale at a shilling. They were produced simply from
stereos of the old St Stephen's Review pages, and I wrote to
Phil May, who was then at Scarborough, telling him what
I had done, and that if anything came of it he should have
half profits. What came of it was the making of Phil
May's fortune. The first 10,000 copies were sold like a
flash — 1500 of them on York bookstall alone. Then the
publisher said he would like to go on printing at his own
risk and would pay a royalty. To this I agreed, and he
went on and on till the old stereos must have been worn
out. Very foolishly I had not taken the original drawings.

The papers became excited. The Daily Chronicle,

334 "MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE!"

for instance, published a column article, entitled " A
New Artist." This to me was the unkindest cut of all ;
for I had worked very hard all those years to make people
appreciate Phil May as I did from the first, and now when
my own best effort in that direction was published in
collected form I found that the past might never have
been — Phil May was at last recognised, but as " a new
artist."

It must be admitted, of course, that The Parson and
the Painter never had a fair chance in St Stephen's Review,
for the Hansard Union tactics of threatening the publish-
ing trade cut down the circulation of the paper so very
badly. It may, I think, be claimed that but for these very
adverse circumstances my idea that The Parson and the
Painter would run St Stephen's into assured prosperity
was very well founded. Be that as it may, Phil May
never looked back again, after the collected book was
published. He was quickly secured on the staff of Punch,
as also for The Graphic, and he published book after book
of studies from life, all of which were in great demand ;
but he never did anything better than The Parson and
the Painter, which is indeed to my mind his masterpiece,
though I may be thought prejudiced.

Somehow it put fresh life into me to know that I had not
really been wrong with the Parson and the Painter idea,
though in the ceaseless struggle with the old paper I had,
doubtless, done many foolish things.

The idea of starting a new paper, Big Ben, occupied me
for some time, and Phil May would have gone with me
to that if the scheme had materialised, which it did not,
and meanwhile I still did some work with Phil May.
For instance, we went to do Newmarket for The Daily
Graphic, and were the guests of Mr Stebbing at the
Rutland Arms for a week. During that time we went the
round of the leading trainers and, I think, put in some
good work ; but this was casual business and I had good
reason to look with anxiety to the future.

Then came further trouble. Radclyffe had made a

Politics for the Nursery.

EOf?CY GO-SCHEN USF.D TO BE
Ru-ler of the Queen's Na-?ee.
Th«. in Wirk-ed WiMi.m's d.y

And with pen-cil, sponge, ind sltle,
Tried his sums lo cal-cu-late,
S > that for his work and care,
Praise with Ce-cil he might share
Ceor-gy's tal-ents soon bs-came
\Vor thy quite of Ce<il'« fame,
For he worked with all his might,
A:id his sums were »l-ways right ;

But when Ar-tl.ur Bal.four heard
Words like lha-, he said " Ab-surd !

Placed' a-bove a boy like me ;
1, of course, must be the chief,
Klse the school will come to grief: "

hear

Then in fash-ion some-whal sly,
Part-ly closed his d. x-tet t ye.
To hi9 nose his finders spread,
And in ait-ful man ner said—

•• Ceor.gy Por.gy he can state

kan-dy leait would play the fool,
Ar.d ere ma-ny months have ipcd
kiji-cy Pan-dy will be held ! *

Thus the three, with vzin sur-uiise.
Aim 10 seize U-.e high-es: f rije ,
Eut to put ii,ch thoughts at res',
AH the Mas-ten think it best
That a plair. but hon est youth,
Famed for vir-tue and for tmth,
Should be placed a-bove the three,
That they may not d:s-a-gree.

•• "Si. Stephen's Review,'

MORE FINANCIAL TROUBLE 335

gallant effort to salve the old St Stephen's, but my instinct
had been a correct one and he too had to give up.

The finance of the last company that owned the paper
had been arranged with the paper-makers who held all
the debentures of the company, and used to take pay-
ment by monthly accounts, for which they drew at three
months, and themselves addressed the bills " To the
Proprietors of St Stephen's Review."

I, as a director, used to accept these bills under a rubber
stamp " For the Proprietors of St Stephen's Review."
Suddenly I found a demand made on me personally for a
large sum in respect of these bills that had not been met,
and, to cut a long story short, I was held to be liable on
the technical ground that the name of the limited com-
pany ought to have appeared above my signature instead
of " The Proprietors." I well knew that in dealing with
outsiders cheques or other negotiable documents have
to show when they are signed for a limited company ;
but in this case we were not dealing with outsiders. Tlie
paper-makers were the holders of the debentures of the
limited company, and, knowing it to be such, addressed
their bills to the proprietors of the paper. The rubber
stamp under which I signed, as director, conformed
exactly to the way in which the drawers addressed the
bills, but nevertheless I was held to be personally liable,
and there was judgment accordingly.

Here was trouble indeed, but amid the shade of it came
the light of the first steeplechase ever run over the Ling-
field course . That was when Colonel North and his partner,
Mr Jewell, arranged to have a match between horses of
their own, and it was I who fixed that the Lingfield course
should be the chosen venue. It was at the end of 1890
or the beginning of 1891, and the fences were ready, almost
as they are now. The original luncheon-room had been
built and the stands were approaching completion.
Lethby, who was then steward of the Bellaggio Club
House — now the Dorman's Park Hotel — took on the
catering for that day, and Colonel North brought down a

336 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

very large party. The catering was first-rate ; so was
everything, until it came to the great match, and then Mr
Jewell, who was represented by quite a useful jumper
in training, had things all his own way, for Colonel North
ran an ordinary fox-catcher, in reasonable hunting con-
dition, and ridden by his deputy Master of Staghounds.
This horse had his wits about him, and, after going once
round, refused resolutely, at the fence opposite the
stands, to commence a second circuit, so that the other
went on and won as he pleased. I sent a report of that
day to The Sportsman, under the heading :

COLONEL NORTH STEEPLECHASING AT
LINGFIELD

and it will be found in the file of the paper. At the time
it had never occurred to me for a moment that I should ever
become " The Special Commissioner." The report was
written almost in jest, and I transformed Lethby's name
to M. Letheby, giving him a French origin. That name,
so transformed, was so well received that it was promptly
adopted, and Messrs Letheby & Christopher are now the
leading race-course caterers. They never looked back
from that day.

The late Major H. S. Dalbiac (" The Treasure "), whom
very many old friends remember so well, never did more
strenuous work than he did in the building of those
Lingfield stands, for no contractor would take on the job,
the weather being so frightful. He drew his own plans,
was his own architect, bought the timber and other
materials, and did all the work with local labour, employing
day and night shifts, with double pay on Sundays. It was
a terrible winter, and the local people have never forgotten
the benefit that was derived from the making of the stands
and enclosures at a time when there was no other work.
I believe that Lingfield is to this day the most popular
race-course in England — locally speaking.

The first actual meeting was brought off there with a
temporary stand, but the second found the existing

THE SPECIAL COMMISSIONER 337

structures ready, all except the one beyond the winning-
post, which is of later date.

To me all these initial operations were naturally full
of interest, but there remained the personal trouble —
what on earth to do for the future of myself and
family.

Here again the Disraeli motto — " Forti nihil difficile " —
was very helpful — perhaps because it was Disraeli's motto.
Had it not been, there are many quotations in a similar
sense, such as " Virtus repulses nescia sordid ce," and so
forth, but they might not have appealed to me.

Anyhow there came a time when no man has ever owned
less than I did, and being one of the " have-nots," I can
truly say I never thought for one moment that I had any
grievance against those who " have." I was as impecuni-
ous as the most destitute person to whom a Bolshevist
might in these days appeal ; but that did not for a moment
shake my faith in the conditions of life in a country like
ours. I only blamed myself and my own luck. It did
indeed seem hard luck, after all one had hoped.

Towards the autumn of 1891 it happened that The
Sportsman wanted a new man as " The Special
Commissioner. ' '

That I could be that man I never doubted, and for many
reasons I should delight in the work, which had from the
first interested me so much when Fred Taylor did it.
And yet — and yet — was this to be the end of my
career ?

I am sure none of my colleagues of the last twenty- eight
years will misunderstand me when I reproduce the query
that troubled me at that juncture. I had loved racing
and horse-breeding for its own sake and as my special
hobby, never thinking to make it a means to a material
end ; and now I was up against the idea that it was to
be the means — the business means — to an end, beyond
which I could look no further.

Well, well, there are few indeed — probably none — who

338 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

attain to their early ideals, and I applied for this berth,
feeling sure that I should get it, but I sent in a recent
letter from Mathew Dawson which doubtless contributed
to that end. Here is a copy of his letter :

MELTON HOUSE,

EXNING.

3 ist May, 1891.
DEAR MR^ALLISON,

In case you may ever wish to take charge of a Stud Farm
of thoroughbred stock, I should like to say that, in my opinion, no
one is more capable of holding such a position with credit and profit
to those concerned. It is within my knowledge that you were the
principal Acting Director of the Cobham Stud Company when, at a
comparatively early age, you gained great experience in the practical
details of the work, and I also believe that owing to the system
you originated, ^2500 was saved in provender alone, during the
last year of that Company. As to your knowledge of bloodstock
and everything that relates to the various families and branches
of it, and the most advisable methods of crossing mares, I can
only say, after numerous conversations with you, that those are
matters with which you are conversant in a degree which cannot
be surpassed, and if you managed the Royal Stud, you would be
the right man in the right place, always, of course, saving that no
one can do better than Sir George Maude.
I am, dear Mr Allison, very faithfully yours,

M. DAWSON.

And so it happened that I became " The Special Com-
missioner " of The Sportsman, then owned by Messrs Ashley
& Smith, and I must say, right here, that from both
partners I received the greatest courtesy and kindness as
long as they lived. This is all the more appreciable in
retrospect, because I came from an eight years' period
of fierce political writing, and did not for long after joining
The Sportsman assimilate my style to the milder conditions
which apply to racing authorities. Mr Ashley was, I
believe, before the Stewards three times before I had been
on the paper six months, and all on account of what I
had written ; but he stood to his guns well, and only got
me to modify my agreement, which originally required a
notice of three years to terminate. This was altered to

GOOD COMPANY 339

six months, for I suppose I must have seemed a sort of
dangerous firebrand.

I have mentioned the hesitation — reluctance, if you will
— with which I took on this job, but having crossed the
Rubicon, I have done what is in me throughout all these
years to make the best of it. Others can say what the
result has been ; but I am sure of this, that I have never
received more kindness and consideration than from the
members of the sporting Press who go the rounds of the
race-meetings.

The whole business was quite new to me at the outset ;
for a weekly paper does not give you the remotest insight
into the work of a daily. It seemed almost like going to
school for the first time, but I found " Charlie " Green,
who then was and still is head of the travelling staff, a
mentor indeed. Many of those who then went the rounds
have now gone over, and they were all good, cheery souls :
rough-spoken Tom Callaghan, who could charm anyone if
he sat down to a piano ; Jack Cobbett and his brother
Martin, great characters both ; Charles Greenwood, a
really first-rate journalist ; " Jim " Flood, whose recent
death was a sorrow to all of us. Then there are others
living, such as Paul Widdison, strong of speech but true
as gold ; S. A. Phipps, who knows more than anyone
about jockeys, and can adorn any subject that he touches.
A good many others have died : old and young Bradley,
of The Sporting Chronicle ; Neville, of the same paper,

a thoroughly good sort ; John Corlett It really does

not bear thinking about when one enumerates those who
have gone, but Jim Smith, Sydenham Dixon, Jim George,
Meyrick Goode, Fred Ball, Frank Pearce, Graham,Mellish,
Luckman and some more of us remain to afflict our
readers for, it may be, a few years longer. The mention
of Sydenham Dixon recalls the memory of his predecessor
at Newmarket, Donat Leonard, one of the best but
strangely impulsive.

I did not set out to give anything like a comprehensive
list of these good people, but I only want to indicate that

340 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

I have, I hope, made myself one with them, no matter
what may have been my aspirations in earlier days.
After all, the best rule of life is to do with your might
whatever lies before you to do, and so it has happened
that I have been " The Special Commissioner " of The
Sportsman since 1891.

There was at least one great relief, so far as the work
itself was concerned, and it was that the subject was one
which was second nature to me, and could be dealt with
almost as a matter of course at any time. It is a very
simple thing to write about what you really understand.
In fact it is more a question of the manual labour of
writing than anything else.

I made a pretty good hit that first autumn on The
Sportsman by going for Childwick as an extraordinary
yearling, and he realised 6000 guineas. That was the
week when Common won the St Leger and Queen's
Birthday the Cup. Sir Blundell Maple bought Common
for 15,000 guineas, and said England had need of him
when asked to sell to a Continental buyer ; but he would
not make a match against Queen's Birthday, except on
prohibitive terms — £10,000 a side, I think it was.
Common was retired to the stud as a four-year-old, and
this turned out to have been a bad policy.

In December of that year the late William Easton got
me to assist him in buying a lot of mares at the December
sales for Mr James R. Keene, and we also arranged to get
together a large consignment of bloodstock of all sorts
to be sent out to the United States for sale by Tattersalls
of New York the following year, 1892. This I managed
to do somehow or other, and what is more, the various
lots, over 100 in number, crossed the Atlantic safely, and
the sale was a very successful one, totalling about 30,000
guineas. So the more or less dormant International
Horse Agency and Exchange was awakened into some-
thing like new life.

CHAPTER XXXII

The James R. Keene Commission — The International Horse
Agency and Exchange Ltd. Sales in France — Successes continue
— The Musket Blood — Carbine and Trenton — Cobham again
— The Sporting League — Purchase of Merman — He wins the
Cesarewitch — Good Men I have known — Meeting Trenton
and Carnage at Sea — Phil May and Strachan Davidson —
Other Cobham Horses — Collar — Retrospect — Worth of
Racing and the British Thoroughbred

I HAVE now reached a point when I must hurry on
to finish or be far too prolix. Perhaps, later on,
another book may be written if people want it,
but here let me say now that the bread cast on the waters
in America in 1887 began to be found not later than
December, 1892. It had been a great racing year, with
the supposed poisoning of Orme and the other vicissitudes
of the great three-year-olds which John Porter trained,
one of which was La Fleche. It is impossible, however,
to go into these details. What concerned me most was
a cable received by me from James R. Keene, the Saturday
before the December sales began, and it asked : " Will
you execute commission for me next week ? "
I replied " Yes," and the answer was :

Buy me ten high -class mares in foal, best horses. Limit
average 1000 each.

This was indeed a commission and I should like to have
had a fortnight to make all the necessary inspections and
inquiries, but fortune somehow favoured me this time,
and as I was well acquainted with almost all the stud
grooms and breeders I could quickly learn all I wanted
to know. By the end of the second day's sale I had got

342 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE i "

six lots and cabled result. Next morning there was a
reply :

Have cabled 6000 your credit Tattersalls. Very pleased. You
can exceed instructions if you think fit.

On that I hurried to Park Paddocks, where Ixia, by
Springfield out of Crocus (in foal to Donovan), and Sun-
down, by Springfield out of Sunshine (in foal to Ayrshire),
were coming up the first lots, and outbid Captain Machell
for both of them, giving 2000 for Ixia and 1000 guineas
for Sundown. Finally came an instruction to increase
the total number to twelve, including one maiden mare,
if very good. The maiden that I secured was Bonnie
Gal, four years, by Galopin out of Bonnie Doon by Rapid
Rhone out of Queen Mary. She was the property of
Colonel North, who never meant to let her go and had put
two men up to buy her in. A misunderstanding between
these two, who were on different sides of the auctioneer,
resulted in my getting her, to the consternation of both,
for 1600 guineas. She was the finest Galopin mare I
ever saw, and later on became the dam of Disguise II.
and many other winners. The whole twelve mares were
bought for not more than 20 guineas over the 12,000 guineas,
and as I had no instructions what to do with them, I
arranged for them to go to Cobham, where Mr A. J. Schwabe
was then breeding in a small way. I thus took up the
threads again after some fifteen years, and Mr Keene
on hearing where I had sent the mares was very satisfied.
Everything went well. Each one of the eleven foaling
mares had a good foal the following season (1893), and
they were sent to the most expensive sires of the day.
Later in the year they reached New York safely with their
eleven foals, and they produced ten foals at the Castleton
stud, Kentucky, in the following year.

That was the real foundation of Mr Keene 's greatest
successes on the turf, and some few years later he won
more money in one season, in stakes, than anyone has
ever done in any country. It was also the really sub-

THE MUSKET BLOOD 343

stantial start of the International Horse Agency and
Exchange Limited, which has never looked back since.

Within that year Mr Schwabe, who had bred Buccaneer,
and was dissatisfied because another of the sort was not
immediately forthcoming, wanted to clear out of Cobham,
and old Shipley, his stud groom, suggested to me that I
should take the stud. This seemed a big adventure, but
Mr Schwabe was willing to leave his twelve mares at
regulation tariff, and that would go far to pay the rent —
for we had not nearly all the land at that time. Nor
did Mr Schwabe want anything to speak of for fixtures
or unexhausted improvements. Thus it was that I found
myself, after long years, the sole lessee of the place which
£100,000 share capital and £40,000 debentures had not
sufficed to carry on.

The International Horse Agency and Exchange was now
definitely established at 4&A Pall Mall, with R. P. (now
Major) Mortlock as secretary, and an agreement was made
at the request of M. Halbronn, of the Etablissement Cheri,
under which English brood mares were taken annually
to Deauville sales and to Paris, in limited numbers, and
each individual chosen by me. This was both profitable
and interesting, and many of these mares produced great
winners in France, such as La Camargo, Perth II., Masque,
etc.

As regards all this, however, my life is an open book
to anyone who has read The Sportsman for the last quarter
of a century. At any rate, I cannot do more than skim
over it here.

I had a rooted belief in Musket after seeing him win
at Warwick, and the first Cesarewitch I had to deal with
in The Sportsman was that of 1891, for which Ragimunde
(grandson of Musket) was my choice. Then after the
great Badminton sale, when Musket's son, old Petronel,
was alone retained, I got the late Duke of Beaufort to let
me have him to stand at Cobham.

Meanwhile Memoir and La Fleche had pointed clearly
to the prospects of the St Simon and Musket combination,

344 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

for their dam, Quiver, was nearly own sister to Musket.
I wrote a great deal on this, and — I will not say propter
hoc, but certainly post hoc — the Duke of Portland bought
Musket's great son, Carbine, and brought him to England,
where he ended his days at the Welbeck stud, after siring
Spearmint and other good winners.

A little later I was fortunate enough to secure Bill
of Portland for the late Mr W. R. Wilson, of the St
Alban's stud, Victoria, and this son of St Simon got the
best colt of his year in his first three successive seasons
out there, all being from mares of Musket blood. There
can really be no question about the efficacy of this com-
bination, and later on I was lucky enough to get the really
greatest Musket stallion to Cobham. That was Trenton,
and his influence for the good of our bloodstock will
remain as long as the general stud-book lasts, manifest
as it already is through Torpoint, Rosedrop and
Gainsborough.

It will always be a satisfaction to me that I got Mr
Edmund Tattersall to come and sell once more at Cobham
in 1895 — though we had nothing very good to offer — and
Mr Herbert Rymill was also there at the luncheon. I
tried for many years to keep those sales going and some-
tunes they were very fairly successful. I still believe
that such sales are the best ; but there must be a lot of
fashion in them to draw the buyers, and that means a lot
of capital. Otherwise you only draw the free-lunchers.

I am scurrying on to the finish of this last chapter, but
must not miss the institution of the old Sporting League,
which through the medium of The Sportsman was entirely
my own doing, and for a good many years it exercised
real political influence, thanks mainly to the unceasing
energy of Mr James Lowther and of Lord Durham,
both of whom were on the Executive, together with Lord
Coventry, Lord Hawke, the Duke of Richmond and
Gordon, Lord Lonsdale, Guy Nickalls and others. It was
a very powerful organisation indeed, and Mr Lowther
in particular addressed meetings at all the important

THE SPORTING LEAGUE 345

centres in the country, but he died, and Lord Durham,
when he became chairman of a House of Lords committee
on betting, felt that he could no longer occupy a one-sided
position ; so he retired, and our fighting forces were thus
sadly depleted. I myself had worked desperately hard,
and on one occasion even went down as principal speaker
at the Union (Oxford) in a Sporting League debate. .1
had never spoken there before and shall probably never
speak there again ; but we got a good majority on the
right side. The questions I drafted in those days for
Parliamentary candidates have never been improved on.
Here they are :

TEST QUESTIONS FOR CANDIDATES
(COUNTY COUNCIL OR PARLIAMENTARY)

1. Will you protect and maintain the rights of the people to
the free enjoyment of all sports, pastimes and recreations, such
as may at present be legitimately enjoyed ?

2. Will you, in pursuance of the above undertaking, oppose
absolutely and do your utmost by all lawful means to thwart all
persons, other than legally constituted authorities, who may
endeavour to interfere directly or indirectly with the people's
sports, pastimes and recreations, or with any one of them, or with
any incident thereto ?

3. Do you agree that the people should have liberty in their
sports, pastimes and recreations (under such rules as are from
time to time laid down by those who practically understand the
same), and that such liberty, while regulated by the law of the
land, should be exempt from all other interference whatsoever ?

4. Do you further agree that all persons or bodies of persons
seeking in any way to obstruct, interfere with or suppress any
sport, pastime or recreation, or any incident thereto (the same
being decorously conducted and not contrary to law) should be
discouraged and discountenanced by magistrates, County Councils,
or other authorities before whom they may prefer complaints ?

Space is rapidly contracting, but I cannot pass the
purchase of that beautiful Australian mare, Maluma, for
Mrs Langtry for 1000 guineas. She took a long time
to recover from the voyage, but turned out very good

346 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

indeed here, though not so lucky as the next purchase,
Merman, whom Mr W. R. Wilson had just offered me by
the following cable, in November, 1896 : —

Merman won Williamstown Cup. Best horse in Australia to
win long-distance handicap in England. Legs like steel. 1600
guineas .

— when Mrs Langtry came into the office in Pall Mall
and said she wanted to buy a horse that would win her
a good race. I said I could not for the moment think of
one in England, but would buy her a Cesarewitch winner
in Australia if she liked.

She is a courageous lady, and on being shown the cable
and being assured by me that the sender was a man on
whom you could lay your life, she agreed without hesita-
tion to the purchase, and Merman did win the Cesarewitch
in 1897, the year of his arrival, besides many and greater
races afterwards.

That time I felt I had touched the zenith of possibilities,
and could not hope to ever repeat such a success, though
there have been very many not far removed from it as
time has gone on. Among these I cannot refrain from
mentioning the purchase by me of Rosaline (by Trenton)
for 25 guineas, and she subsequently produced Rosedrop,
winner of the Oaks and dam of Gainsborough ; and Low-
land Aggie, for 35 guineas, who became the dam of
Lomond, the best colt of his year and now a very success-
ful sire. It is too near the finish, however, to amplify any
such details.

What a number of admirable men I should like to write
about in connection with these later years ! Sir Tatton
Sykes, so shy and retiring, yet so utterly good at the bed-
rock of him ; Mr Leopold de Rothschild, who never once
refused a claim for assistance when properly recom-
mended. Then there was the inimitably jovial Mr Taylor
Sharpe, the life and soul of every company in which he
was. Mr W. Pallin, one of the most knowledgable men
in Ireland, and Mr J. C. Murphy of the long beard and

GOOD MEN I HAVE KNOWN 347

ceaseless flow of talk. The Messrs Graham of Yardley,
Mr Smith of Whimple, and his strange son ; Count
Mokronoski ; Sir Blundell Maple, and then Count
Lehndorff, whose death before the war I have always
thought fortunate, for it would have been impossible in
this country for those who had known him so many years
to regard him as an enemy. He was like no German whom
I have ever seen — indeed he might have stepped out of
a Vandyke portrait — and I know that he once bought a
mare and foal from Captain Greer on my recommendation,
and without seeing it himself, for 2000 guineas. The foal
subsequently won the German Oaks.

I had many dealings with Count Lehndorff, including
the sale to him of Ard Patrick, which I did without even
" a scrap of paper " and simply on his word. It came
off all right, and though the Count was, I suppose, a
Prussian, he must have been one in whom there was no
guile.

The International Horse Agency and Exchange Ltd.
has done an enormous business in all these years, and it
would be tedious to recapitulate even the leading items,
but I must mention the sale of Rock Sand for £25,000,
as it is generally supposed that Lord Curzon was the
member of the War Cabinet adverse to racing. The sale
of Rock Sand was on account of the executors of Lord
Curzon's late brother-in-law, Sir James Miller, and it
might have been thought that such an object lesson in
the value of the race-course test would not have been
forgotten by his lordship. Rock Sand without a racing
record would not have realised 100 guineas, but he amply
justified the £25,000 which was given for him when his
son, Tracery, was sent to this country and proved to be
better than ever the sire had been. Indeed 40,000 guineas
was offered for Tracery (sire of the Panther) and refused.

When Trenton and Carnage came to England in 1896
on the Orizaba, Phil May went with me to Plymouth to
go on board and there meet them. It was the ship on
which he had made his return voyage from Australia

348 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

and he knew all the officers. It was about 8.30 P.M.
before the Orizaba was signalled and we went off on the
tender, but our coming was expected and they looked
well after us when we reached the liner. Trenton had
been seriously amiss in the Red Sea but was recovering.
Carnage (three parts brother to Carbine) was very well.
We had a fairly quiet night, but next day as we continued
our course along the Channel the officers, who were over-
joyed to see Phil May, were immeasurably hospitable, and
each one made his own special sort of cocktails. The
genuine conviviality of such an occasion was too much
for poor Phil, and when it came to the time for going to
the captain's cabin to have a cocktail before lunch I
had to go alone and make some excuse for my companion.
That captain — Captain Collins — I have sailed with since
a good many times, but never under such strange con-
ditions, for who should there be in the cabin with him
when I entered but Mr Strachan Davidson, the Bursar
of Balliol College, who later on became the Master ? Of
course he knew me well and I was very glad to see him,
but it needed a quick-change artist to come from the
society of Phil May and his friends to that of even the
most kindly Balliol don. All that afternoon and evening
these studies in contrast were such that they became
really trying, but all was well when we reached the docks
next morning and I got away with the horses to Cobham,
where there was a large party of journalists to meet them.
Trenton could not commence a stud season until quite late
that year, but the first foal sired by him in England was
Longy, a very good two-year-old winner for whom the
owner refused an offer of 7000 guineas. My meeting with
Mr Strachan Davidson resulted in my going up to Oxford
later in that year and taking my B.A. and M.A. degrees
on the same morning. This I had neglected to do during
more than twenty-two years.

In 1895 I had obtained a renewal of the Cobham lease
for twenty-one years, and have carried on since the
expiration of that term up to the present. Among the

OTHER COBHAM HORSES 349

many horses that have stood at the old place during this
period I may mention, besides Trenton and Carnage, the
Australians, Merman, Patron, Aurum and Great Scot;
the French-bred Pastisson and Arizona ; Bill of Portland,
on his return from Australia ; the Derby winners, Sir Visto
and St Gatien ; also Baliol (son of Blair Athol), Flotsam,
Bushey Park, Santry, Flying Lemur, Marcus, Night
Hawk, Amadis and Javelin. The best bargain of them all,
however, was Collar, by St Simon out of Ornament (dam
of Sceptre), whom I found at Durban when I was in South
Africa in January, 1902. He had been kept in training,
though seven years old, and was a regular white elephant
there, owing to the war. I obtained the refusal of him at
£2000, to last until after the Newmarket First Spring
Meeting. Having seen Sceptre win both Two Thousand
and One Thousand Guineas, I did not hesitate for a moment
but cabled out to buy Collar, who was full for season 1903
at a 5o-guinea fee before he reached England. After
that year he filled easily at a fee of 100 guineas, and
continued to do so until he died in 1914. He was a
remarkable success, but this was not so apparent as it
would have been had his stock been retained in England
instead of being distributed all over the world. For
example, there was one season in which Collar was head
of the list of winning stallions in Roumania, second in
Russia, seventh or eighth in the United States, and in
the first twenty in England. This sort of thing continued,
and at last there were winners by him in no fewer than
fourteen different countries. So lately as in October, 1918,
Cuffs, by Collar out of Murcia, won the Australian Grand
National of 1750 sovereigns (four miles). The old horse
was a good one himself on the turf, and almost all his
stock was gifted with plenty of stamina. Brood mares
by him are increasingly valuable, and one of them, Order
of Merit, is the grandam of the Panther.

People have often imagined that someone besides myself
was at the back of the International Horse Agency
and Exchange Limited. But this was quite untrue.

350 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

The business was evolved partly by good fortune — no
doubt — but mainly from the long experience — often
dearly bought — which I have had of the British Thorough-
bred and all that concerns him. It seems strange that
where £140,000 of capital did not suffice I should have
made good out of nothing, but such is the plain truth,
though it is only right to acknowledge the very great help
I have received throughout from those who have worked
with me both at Cobham and at the London office. No
one has any idea until they try it what an intricate and
difficult job the export of horses is, and what a vast
number of arguable points may be found in a matter
of horse insurance. No one man could do all these
things.

In the spring of 1918 we had valuable horses and mares
to ship to Russia for the then Government and other
leading owners. This was done and the animals delivered
just as the Revolution was commencing. Such operations
are no child's play. Moreover, we managed to ship the
stallion, Night Hawk, to New South Wales in the autumn
of 1918, when it was generally accepted that there was
not room on board any ship for a horse to that destination.
These and countless other difficult tasks occur in the
course of such a business, and they can only be overcome
by patience, hard work and practical knowledge of all the
ropes and every detail.

And now while turning into the last lap I must take the
opportunity to claim that I have proved what I undertook
to prove in the Prologue of this book, and that if I have
far from justified my own life, I have at any rate justified
horse-breeding, racing and the British Thoroughbred.
The most virulent Puritan will fail to find a flaw in the
argument, for in my dark days, when education of the
very best — as it then was — could not save me, my always
familiar friend the British Thoroughbred did so, and that,
too, effectually. It may seem a strange story, but it is
an absolutely true one, and though we none of us like to
divert what were our hobbies and pleasures into a serious

RETROSPECT 351

money-making business, yet the fact remains that I found
myself able to do so when all other means failed.

Nothing can give back the many years of fighting against
fate when hunting, shooting and all other sports except
racing were cut out. To those I can never come back
— at least it is very rare to find anyone able to do so after
such an interval. Shooting, in particular, is not what it
was in my young days. You then shot partridges going
away from you, whereas now they come at you, and
desperately fast too. Still one can manage to enjoy life,
even when playing a singularly indifferent game of golf,
and the pleasures attendant on horse-breeding and racing
are perennial. I hope still to see another race-meeting at
Thirsk, and, of course, at York and Doncaster ; nor have
I failed to retain the old Blink Bonny line of blood, from
which one may still hope to breed a Bayardo, a Lemberg
or a My Dear. Two young mares of this family are now
at Cobham, one called Mary Queen of Scots and the other
Orange Mary.

If it be necessary to refer to characters mentioned
earlier in this book, I may repeat that Tom Palliser died
at the age of ninety and Mr Kingsley at one hundred and
one. Mr Arrowsmith has been dead some forty years.
He was a good old soul and I liked him well, but he was
quite unfit to be guardian of myself or anyone else.

The Kilvington property remained nominally mine
through all the vicissitudes, but it was charged in a manner
that left it a damnosa hereditas as far as I was concerned,
and its only value to me was that it gave me two county
votes, one for Thirsk Division and one for Northallerton.
I have never failed to go and vote for the Unionist
candidates, but after the New Reform Act plural voting
is at an end, so I let the property be sold in the summer
of 1918. That ended the sole remaining connection with
the old place and I hope it may benefit its various new
owners.

The kennels, by the way, had been turned to poultry
houses when I saw them last and it did not look as though

352 " MY KINGDOM FOR A HORSE ! "

famous terriers would ever be seen there again ; but what
would you ? Every man to his taste, and I hope the
present proprietor will, at any rate, breed fowls of the
very best.

The range of the Hambleton Hills is in full view of
Kilvington, about eight miles away, but no longer are the
gallops there famous as almost the best in England. No
longer do the stables harbour such as Velocipede, Flat-
catcher, Knight of St George, Alice Hawthorn or even
Syrian and Sundeelah.

If a stallion box remains it holds no Vatican — and a
good thing too. The glories of Black Hambleton have
departed ages ago. And so the world wags on amid chops
and changes ; but the course of the most beautiful and
valuable animal in creation is upwards, ever upwards, so
long as the racing test remains, and it would be a sorry
day for our country if faddist and spoil-sport influences
should ever prevail with such disastrous effect as to
stop racing. It is inconceivable that this should be done,
but the Puritanical foe is always on the watch.

And now let me really end this farrago of insignificant
events, which are the more insignificant in view of the
great ones through which we have all been passing. If
it be asked why I have written this book at such a time,
and what I have been doing in the great war, I shall
answer the first question by shifting the blame on to
Mr Grant Richards. In regard to the second, I can say
that I have done a very little " bit " as a volunteer once
more ; but, much more important, I have done my very
uttermost from start to finish to keep the flag flying as
regards horse breeding and racing, and to maintain the
supremacy of that great national asset and monopoly
— the British Thoroughbred.