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PREFACE.
A THIRD work of the same class scarcely calls
for a preface, except as pure matter of form.
In writing it I have adhered strictly to my original
plan of endeavouring to fill up from oral evidence
some blanks in the sporting history of the last seventy
years ; and where I have had the good fortune to
meet with an especially well-known character, I have
got him, Dick Christian fashion, to give the public
the butt end of his mind in the first person. The
three books must be taken as a whole, and hence any
seeming omissions, or very slight notice of a cele-
brated man or horse in the present one, will generally
be accounted for by reference to its predecessors.
The difficulty of the task has been great, as no two
men ever seemed to give precisely the same account
of anything, and on some points I have despaired of
getting more than an approximation to the exact
truth, amid so many conflicting statements.
The name of " Post and Paddock" could cause no
mistake, but "Silk and Scarlet" deluded a few into
iv
P rejoice.
the belief that it was a contribution to Church
Polemics. When I had to think out a third title, I
did hope that by adopting the names of two of their
most accomplished practitioners as the types of The
Turf and The Chase, I ran no risk of being misunder-
stood ; but still I found one of my old Rugby school-
fellows under the firm belief that by the heading
" Sebright" I must be taken to contemplate a treatise
on Bantams.
As regards the first three chapters, I have nothing
to remark, except that I have handled the great
winners as nearly as possible in chronological order,
and separated man from horse by a pony chapter,
which, with about twenty pages more, has already
appeared in print. " The Flag" part of the fourth
chapter is a mere fragment, for the sake of illustrating
the career of one of its most celebrated riders, when
steeple-chasing really was a sport; and both " The
Stag" and "The Drag" might have been worked
out much more fully if there had been space at
command.
10, Kensington Square,
June 10th, 1862.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
TURF WORTHIES.
A word at starting—Horse traditions—Old sporting writers—Eccentric
Turf characters—Old Q.—Colonel Thornton—The Swaffham Club
—Cricketing and archery—The dawn of Goodwood—The driving
era—Ascot qualification tickets—Doncaster Moor to wit—The
Prince Regent at Bibury—Dr. Cyril Jackson on Bibury and Hunting
—Dean Milner's interview with Mendoza—Sir Tatton Sykes and his
sheep tastes—His little difficulty with Mr. Baker of Elemore—His
early days in London—His probation in Lincoln's Inn—Humours of
the Yorkshire shrievalties—A word with Lord Thurlow—Sir Tatton's
race-riding—Visits to Doncaster—His rides to London—The old
race of Turfites—The old Derby course—Early betting—The cer-
tainties of '17—How they kept the course at Epsom—The year of
Gustavus and Augusta—The Warren Hill parade—The Nomination
night at York—The Leger eve at the Salutation—Crutch Robinson's
sayings and doings—Michael Brunton—The old school of Yorkshire
trainers : Thuytes—His views on tails and training—Mark Plews—
His interview with the Marquis of Queensberry—John Smith—Mrs.
Smith's love for Middleham—Old Sykes and his cards inspection—
Billy Pierse—Mrs. Pierse's training tact—His test of two-year-old
form—Tact in stopping a quarrel—His studies in Political Economy
—The Borodino tip in the bedroom—Old Forth—Buckle, Robinson,
and Chifney—Grandfather Day and Tom Goodisson—Wheatley and
Clift—Bill Arnull on money matters—William Edwards—Plot to
make Orville run away—John Jackson—Ben Smith—Malaprop
sayings of Ben—Early humours of Bob Johnson—First mount on
General Chasse—His perpetual thirds for the St. Leger—His fall at
Doncaster—Colloquies and correspondence with Mr. Old—The
vi
Contents.
Pilgrim's rest at Gosforth—Sam Darling's wastes—Mr. Horsley's
story of Sam—Winning the St. Leger oil Rockingham—John and
Sam Day's first pony race—Sam in the crate—Grandfather Day—
John Day as a jockey—His race on Amphitrite—His waste walk
and Danebury discipline—Sir John Mills at Stoclcbridge races—
Isaac Day—Uncle Sam in the Epsom paddock—Uncle Sam on the
pipe—His lecture on wasting—His London practice—Early tuition
of John and Bill Scott—Filho da Puta's match—Looking over the
Squeers lot—The sporting bagman—Performances of Filho—Dis-
pute about his name—John's riding—Life on Sherwood Forest—
Forest privileges—Birth of Matilda—Mr. Petre's career—Bill Scott's
jockeyship—His riding of Attila—His amusements—Visit to Harro-
gate—Training of his colt, Sir Tatton Sykes—The Whitewall snug-
gery—Pictures of the cracks—The Whitewall dining-room—The
guests at Whitewall—Baron Alderson's visit—Old Cyprian—Lang-
ton Wold—The schoolmaster at home—"Ben" and the hounds —
John Scott's commentaries—Pavis and Conolly—Isaac Day's descent
with Little Boy Blue—Jemmy Chappie—A word on Nat—Job
Marson—Frank Butler's surprise with The West—Colloquy with
Isaac Walker on the Moors—The Old Victory jacket—Last days of
Frank—Mr. Theobald of Stockwell—Camel—Mr. Bransby Cooper's
opinion of him—Stockwell sires—Mr. Theobald's love of being in
the fashion—Plis dress and dogs—Trap horses—Trips to Doncaster
and Newmarket—The late Mr. Tattersall—Dislike to betting—His
entry on the business—The yard at Tattersall's—Mr. Tattersall's
connexion with the Prince—Difficulties with H.R.H. about a chal-
lenge—His Majesty's care for old chums—Mr. Tattersall as a hunting
man—Understanding with highwaymen—Sir Clement Dormer in
difficulties—The stories of Slender Billy—Boiling the exciseman—
Billy's warning voice, and his execution-—Parson Harvey—Mr.
Vernon on long preaching—Coaching, dogs, and fists—Theatre
rows—The late John Warde—Mr. Tattersall's Derby dinner—The
first guests—Humours of Charles Mathews, sen.—Drawing the
Derby Lottery—Frightening the Chelmsford postboy—Mr. Tatter-
sail as a breeder of blood stock—Mr. Tattersall's scrap-book—James
Ward, R.A.—Mr. Femely—Principal pictures—His habits—Visit
to Mr. Herring at Meopham—Horse and donkey models—The
Arab Imaum—Mr. Herring's first efforts—Other subjects—
Interior of his studio—Recollections of his "Book of Beauty"—
Painting Bay Middleton—Baron Petroffski—His love of sport—His
racehorse breeding—Racing in Russia—Training troubles
pp. 1-94
Contents.
vii
CHAPTER II.
EXMOOR TO WIT.
The road to Exmoor—Emmett's Grange—Mr. Robert Smith's cob
breeding—Bobby—The inn at Simon's Bath—Origin of the Exmoor
ponies—The Dongalas—Thoroughbred crosses—The first pony sales
—Mr. Knight's pony stock—Their mode oi life—Habits and battles of
the sires— Annual marking oi the hoofs—Average of casualties—The
herdsmen—A ride by the Barle—On Exmoor—Bringing up the
ponies—The Sparkham pony—The Doons of Badgery
PP. 95—1"
CHAPTER III.
TURF CRACKS.
County rivalry in Arabs—Indian blood-sire contract—WillesdeA pad-
docks—Voltigeur and Sir Edwin Landseer—The Willesden staff—
The selected sires—On shipboard—Arabs in England—Mr. Wilson
and Omer Pacha—Mr. Elliot on Arab champions—Landing of Arabs
at Bombay—Racing in India—Breeds and peculiarities of Arabs—
Tricks of Native dealers—The early English cracks—Hambletonian
—John Smith at Streatlam—" I see Queen Mab has been with you"—
The. Queen Mab family at Streatlam—Streatlam trainers—Isaac
Walker at home—Isaac's interviews with Will Goodall—The Streat-
lam Paddock pets—The Yorkshire greys—Delpini of the woolly
coat—Turf doings at Sledmere—Sam Chimey in Yorkshire—
Camillus and Stumps—Death of Stumps—An afternoon with Sir
Tatton and Snarry—Diplomatic relations of Snarry and the Sled-
mere sires—The Diall's field—Swale's wold—The Cottage Pasture—
Cherry Wood End—The Craggs Flat—The Castle Field—The
King's Field—Across the road and into the Park—A little arith-
metic—The sire paddocks—Old times at Ashton Hall—"The best
of all good company"—Lancashire turf rivals—St. Leger sons of Sir
Peter—The Waxy blood—Whalebone at Petworth—The Petworth
stud—Blacklock's youth—Racing finish of Blacklock—The sire and
sons of Tramp—Lottery—Peculiar action of Lottery and Tomboy—
The last of Lottery—The Catton tribe—Dr. Syntax and Reveller—•
Death of Dr. Syntax—Ralph—Scottish cracks—Sir John Maxwell
and "Old Nelson"—Canteen and Sprinkell at Carlisle—Difficulties
viii
Contents.
of the Iloddom Castle butler—Matilda—Purchase of Rowton—His
race for the St. Leger—Velocipede on the Turf—The Colonel—
Charles Marson at Lord Exeter's—The Sultan stock—Beiram—
Green Mantle and Varna—Galata ripping them up—Darling's best
race—Camarine and Taurus—The Duke of Bedford as a racing man
—The Oakley meet—Envoy, and Magog the giant—The late Earl of
Albemarle—Bad Beaufort luck—Muley and Muley Moloch—The
grandsire of Touchstone—John Scott's first sight of Touchstone—
His mishaps and medicine—Mostyn-Mile martyrs—Ascot Cup trem-
blings—Touchstone's peculiarities—His descendants—Jereed and
Mundig—Mundig's Derby Day—Hornsea, Scroggins, and Carew—
Gladiator—Early days of Cyprian—Purchase of Epirus—His train-
ing in the metropolis—The trial of Don John and Cardinal Puff—
The Colonel and "the Admiral"—Horse whims—A horse's know-
ledge of sound—Purchase of Charles XII.—Hetman Platoff—
Industry and Ghuznee—Launcelot—Satirist's St. Leger trial—Attila's
trial—Jacob's bet about Attila—Jacob on a tout hunt—King Cole—
Marlow and old John Day—Sam Darling and Isaac—History of
Isaac—Weighting him for the Audley End—The old Scottish
cracks—The late Lord Eglinton—Sir James Boswell—Myrrha and
Philip—Gullane—Zohrab and Co.—Scottish coaching days—In-
heritor and the Ramsay lot—Lanercost—Mr. James Parkin—Laner-
costiana—Outwitting St. Martin—Labours of Lanercost—Winning
the Cambridgeshire—His after-career—The love of Lanercost for a
dog—Blue Bonnet—Cotherstone—Cotherstone's trial—Attempt to
hocus him—A visit to Althorp Paddocks—Cotherstone in retire-
ment—His stock—Orlando's maiden race—Young John Day's win
on Wiseacre—Death of Franchise—"Running Rein" and St. Law-
rence—The Baron—Iago—The B. Green two-year-olds—Two-year-
old trials—The purchase of Cossack—War Eagle—The Hero—
Chanticleer—Canezou and Springy Jack—Maid of Masham—Eller-
dale—Sale of Stockwell and West Australian—The late Lord
Londesboro'—Van Tromp—Marlow and The Dutchman—The
Dutchman's Derby race—Vatican—Surplice—Accidents to Surplice
—The roaring humour—Beginning of the Aske stud—Death of
Comfit—Voltigeur—Purchase and trial of Voltigeur—Bobby Hill's
training notions—Voltigeur at Epsom—Bobby's Lightfoot fancy—
Voltigeur's decline—Vedette—Waking up Sabreur—His trial at
Richmond—Nunnykirk—Teddington—His yearling form—His two-
year-old trials with Aphrodite, &c.—His Derby trial—Derby
anxieties—Kingston—Death of Kingston—The Cawston stud
Pantaloon and Phryne—The Windhound rout—A visit to Cawston
Contents.
ix
—The late Lord John Scott—Old Helen—Hobbie Noble—Cannobie
—Pocahontas—Early history of Stockwell—Birth of Rataplan—Rata-
plan's racing and training habits—King Tom—Longbow—Miss
Bowe—Daniel O'Rourke—Little Harry—Joe Miller—Umbriel—
West Australian—Isaac Walker's annual appearance at Whitewall—
Frank's first introduction to "The West"—The West's Doncaster
Jubilee—Catherine Hayes—Goorkah's history—Butterfly—Boiardo
—Knight of St. George—Virago—Lord of the Isles—Wild Dayrell's
History—Birth of Wild Dayrell—His change of hands—His train-
ing and trial—Ellington—Warlock—Imperieuse—Horse eccen-
tricities—St. Giles—Queen Mary's blood—Blink Bonny—Her race
for the Derby—Balrownie, Blooming Heather, and Bonnie Scotland
—Beadsman—Antonio, Anton, and Actaeon—Trumpeter—Musjid—
His Derby trial—Underhand and the greyhounds—His Newcastle-
triumphs—St. Albans—Ashdown Park—Ride to the coursing
ground—Notabilities of the field—Coursers' talk—The two blacks
at work—Beating the plantations—Over the hill to Russley—A peep
at Russley Park—Thormanby—Thormanby's early labours—Dundee
—His breakdown—A peep at Benhams—Fisherman and Co.—
Avalanche—Caller Ou—Trials and peculiarities—Her St. Leger
race—The youth of Kettledrum—Training Kettledrum—Col. Towne-
ley's paddocks—An hour with the Whitewall brood mares
pp. 112—261
CHAPTER IV.
STAG, DRAG, AND FLAG.
Old hunting times—The first Master of the Royal Hounds—The Royal
Staghounds—Reverence of the country people—The King out hunt-
ing—The original pack—The Goodwood kennels—George IV.'s
hunting—Mr. Davis's best runs—Fun in the Vale of Aylesbury—
The Marquis at bay—Visit to the Royal Kennels—Pictures and
testimonials—The Hound kennel—Old Swinley revelries—The
Deer Paddocks—Deer diet—Paddock exercise—Carting the deer—
Peculiarities of great stags—Harry—The great Leicestershire Stag-
hunt—"The Marquis's" freaks—Baron Rothschild's deer—Sir
Clifford's deer—Harvey Combe—The Baron's pack—Limits of the
Vale—The Rothschild cracks—Grouse, King Pippin, and Hark-
over—Bill Bean, the arch-trespasser of England—The perils of the
drag—Will White and his successor Kit—Bill Bean's horses—Perse-
cution of the farmers—The great indignation meeting—How Bill
X
Contents.
attended to the notices—His graceful manners with the Tax Com-
missioners—Jem Hills' steeple-chase—The start—The plot thickens
—The last brook—First steeple-chase in Leicestershire—Captain
Becher—The palmy days of St. Albans—First St. Albans steeple-
chase—Tommy Coleman's volunteers—Moonraker—A fierce lawyer
—"The Squire" as steward—Grimaldi v. Moonraker—Grimaldi
and Napoleon—Viviana—Vivian v. Cock Robin—Fun in the Vale
—Latter days and death of Grimaldi—Flacrow and the Leamington
—Lottery's beginnings—Fun in the Midlands—Vivian v. Lottery—
Beginning of the Liverpool Grand National—Leicestershire to wit—
Lottery's zenith and finish—Establishment of the Brocklesby Hunt
steeple-chases—Brocklesby steeple-chases, 1842-49—Mr. Tilbury the
dealer—His class of horses—His coachmanship—The two French-
men and the Three Pigeons—The Ehnores—The Elmores as hunter
dealers—John Elmore at home—John Elmore's stories—Staghound
diplomacy—Larking with Lottery 262—317
CHAPTER V.
HORN AND HOUND.
Visit to Joe Hewitt—Service under Mr. Frank Fawkes—Joe's stag-
hunting in Norfolk—Fox-hunting in Norfolk—A new light on fox-'
hunting—Fox-hunting lecture—Fox-hunting, 1790-1810—The late
Earl of Darlington—Squire Draper—The Yorkshire Wolds—The
Wold Hunts—The Sykes hounds—The Badsworth—Engagement
of Will Danby—Waifs and Strays for Holderness—Kennel build-
ing—Life in Holderness—Will Danby's sayings—Dreams of the
chase—Holderness foxes—Mr. Hodgson's Scurry Stakes at Beverley
—Practical jokes in Holderness—The biter bit—Captain Percy
Williams—Mr. John Bower—Mr. Ralph Lambton—His habits of
life—Mr. Lambton on the flags—His hound feeding—Mr. William-
son's mastership—The late Sir Harry Mainwaring—Tom Ranee's
history—The late Dick Gurney—Tom in Cheshire—Tom's table-
talk—Head, Maiden, and Markwell—Foxes and their troubles—
Tom's disasters—The Cheshire green collars—Old Zach Goddard—■
The snooze in the Park—Celebrities at Bicester—Sir Thomas Mostyn
and the B.D.C.—Stephen Goodall—Stephen in kennel—Tom
Moody—Griff Lloyd—Griff Lloyd's power of bearing fatigue—Jem
Hills—View from the kennel—The Heythrop covers—New kennels
near Chipping Norton—Heythrop foxes—Making up forty brace
Contents.
xi
Jem and the badgers—Glories of Cribb the terrier—Jem's early
days—Special day for the Duke of Beaufort—Blooding future
Masters of Hounds—Scent symptoms—The South Warwickshire's
triumph—Dislike to water—Cricket reminiscences—Clarke's sane-
•tun).—'The kennel beauties of Badminton—Recollections of Will
L<hSjg-—The dawn of Leicestershire—The Quom country—Mr.
Asisiheton Smith—Hunting-field habits—The Billesdon Brook leap—
Training little Will Burton—Will's kennel education—Mr. Codring-
ton's talking habit—"The Squire" in Lincolnshire—The Osbaldes-
ton hound blood—"The Squire's" hound tastes—His scorn of
fatigue—Meltoniana—General Grosvenor—Mr. John Moore—Lord
Alvanley—Mr. Maher's " Old Tommy"—Mr. Maher outwitted—
Sir'Francis Burdett—Sir Harry Goodricke—Doing Tom Heycoclc—
Old Snow—Mr. Holyoake—Captain White—Putting up hunters at
the Old Club—Harlequin—Mr. Maxse pounding a couple—Merry
Lad—Captain White at Croxton and Heaton Park—The late Mr.
Greene of Rolleston—Style of riding—The riding of his later years—
His horses—His hunting journal—His great Thorpe Trussells run—
Mr. Greene at home—His latter days—The last meet at Rolleston
—His last hunt—His death—The sale day—Sir Richard Sutton—
Plound fancies— Early days of Will Goodall—Will Goodall at the
Belvoir—Tom Sebright—Tom in Leicestershire—First day in the
Milton country—Scenery about Milton—Tom on the flags—The
kennel after his death—Tom's hunting habits—Style of hunting—
Describing a run—Tom at home—Tom's snuggery—First symptoms
of illness—Tom at Middlesboro' and Yarm—The last party—His
illness and death—His burial , ....... pp. 3x8—418
SCOTT and SEBRIGHT
CHAPTER I.
TURF WORTHIES.
"Mr. Perceval and Lord Sidmouth were Premiers, and that is all that
is known of them ; but if they had been great racing men, there
would have been hundreds of enthusiasts who would treasure up
the minute descriptions in which a Turf writer would have collected
all the traditionary stream of knowledge bearing on their physical
and mental gifts, on their successes and failures, the way they
carried their heads, and the way they turned out their feet."
I'LL tell you what it is, my old friendsa Word at
said a candidate, when he had been Starting,
met at the station, and duly conducted to a dais at
the end of his Committee Room ; " Pm not going to
stand up here for a speech to-night, but Pll just come
down and smoke a pipe with you'd It was six to four
on him at once, and the takers had the worst of it on
the polling day. Such a homely solution of the start-
ing difficulty might make the Jockey Club prick up
its ears, and fill the author-world with the direst envy.
It suits our own humour to a nicety. We want to
settle down quickly into our stride, and tell from our
note-book, as of yore, the post and paddock recol-
lections of many an old English and Scottish worthy.
Our appetite for moralizing is not sufficiently athletic
to grapple with the morbid anatomy of The Turf, or
B
2 Scott and Sebright
to trace every dark episode in its annals. We simply
feel proud, that an institution, so fraught with tempta-
tion, and exposed to the ken of so many millions of
ignorant or crusty critics from within afid from with-
out, should continue to furnish us with Premiers, and
to show such wonderful fibre and endurance under the
chronic onslaughts of that lop-sided morality, which
almost denies the existence of an honest owner,
trainer, or jockey.
Horse Tra- But second-hand homilies are not m
ditions. vogue, and nearly every tradition for
good or evil has been already moulded into shape.
We may have to take the Venerable Bede on trust,
when he tells us that in 631 the " English first began
to saddle horses but the same genius of stable
gossip which was at hand to note for posterity how
Lord Falkland's son bartered away his father's library
for a horse and a mare, has stayed the two centuries
well. A rich harvest of facts, down to I'Anson's last
Leger orders to Challoher, never to raise his hands
from Caller Ou's withers, has been gathered in by its
agency, but there is still much work for the gleaner.
And if our version of some events differs in a measure
from that which was given of them at the time, it may
be that we have traced them more thoroughly to the
fountain head, when all motive on the part of the
actors for gloss or concealment had long passed away.
Old Sporting " 'Tis seventy years ago" is a phrase
Writers. 0f edge not to be matched now, and we
may well not care to go back further. We can still
reach by the light of living memory (the only book
we have cared much to consult), that great historic
age of "Genius Genuine," the Prince Regent, and
John Bull. Of thousands of good sportsmen, who
rode the hill towards Black Hambleton, on the King's
Plate day, to see the judges place 16 out of 31 for
posterity behind the Belvoir "Bonny Black," or decide
the delicate question between five Marys, we must
Turf Worthies.
3
fain be content with the simple record that they were
born and died. No newspaper had then made sport-
ing its specialty, and the Old Sporting Magazine only
began in 1792 to "woo the votaries of Dian and the fre-
quenters of Newmarket," with intelligence and "lyric
compositions of the sylvan, rustic, and Anacreontic
kind." The field of Turf literature had lain compara-
tively fallow, and when the writers did begin to work it
again, they stuck too much to one kind of cropping.
They were careless of the fame of great horses, or
considered them to be sufficiently provided for in the
Racing Calendar, which extended its earliest favours
to Jamaica as well as Great Britain ; and embalmed
the Royal Rules of Cockfighting as solemnly as the
pedigree of Coughing Peggy, or Skipjack from Old
Mother Neesome. Men who had completed a zealous
novitiate of folly 01* eccentricity, and risen to the dignity
of a character; the careless cassock, fonder of brew-
ing an October posset than writing a fifteen-minutes
sermon, and yet ready, like his ancestors, to melt his
last tankard for Church and King; and the wealthy
Corinthian who had run the gauntlet of the coffee-
houses before he was three-and-twenty, were the
subjects they delighted to honour.
The Prince Regent was their Maecenas, Eccentric Turf
and Sir Harry Vane their Suwarrow of Characters,
the turf. Lord Barrymore, who was known as "Crip-
plegate," while another brother became "Newgate,"
and a third owned to a still warmer and more ex-
pressive title, was a most fruitful study with them.
Inspired by the account of the countryman, who
consumed a pound of salt, a cabbage, and a cabbage-
net at a sitting, his lordship made a bet Lord Barry-
that he would produce a man who was mores Bets,
equal to eating a live cat; and he won by a few yards
at Brighton, when he challenged the Duke of York to
try who could wade farthest into the sea. Well might
his Boswell exclaim, on hearing of his early death,
B 2
4 Scott and Sebright.
" Could the emotions of grief restore his vital heat,
my lamentations should fatigue Echo." Earl Orford's
eccentricities, wrote another, " are too firmly indented
upon the tablet of the memory, ever to be obliterated
from the diversified rays of retrospection," and then
feeling refreshed by this prelude, he proceeds, with his
usual kindness to give them in detail. Major Topham
earned a mention both for the drama's and Snowball's
sake. Sir John Lade (who "stood in" with "Leader,
the great coach-builder of Liquor Pond Street,") was
a fund in himself for them, whether he was driving his
phaeton and four across the ice of the Thames, or
riding his mule for a thousand pound match over the
Ditch In ; and they loved to tell how O'Kelly would
fumble among a quire of banknotes just to set the
caster, when he had got every floating guinea in the
bank.
Old q Sonneteers and satirists all laid violent
hands on Old Q, who still stuck to his
Picadilly bow window, his green vis-d-vis with black
horses and long tails, his Richmond beauties, his muff,
and defied them. His body physician had only to
look in the Morning Post occasionally to be reminded
that he had strictly a life-interest in his patient, and
that his prescriptions of a warm milk bath scented
with almond powder, and a veal cutlet at 3 A.M.,
might as well have been posted at Charing Cross.
Colonel Thorn- Colonel Thornton's thirst for notoriety
ton* was also slaked to the full. If he sat
down next to Oliver Goldsmith at the Sgavoir Vivre
Club, or jumped a five-foot-seven gate, or ran down a
hare on horseback, or coursed a bustard, or shot a
dotteril, or unhooded Sans Quartier amid the elastic
wold breezes round Falconer's Hall, the feat never
lacked a chronicler. His greyhound Major, his bea-
gle Merryman, and his terrier Pitch were all accepted
types of their order ; and Juno, whose fame caused
Lord Grantley to pay half-forfeit in a match of thou-
Turf Worthies.
5
sands, was the queen of the twenty brace of setters
and thirty-five pointers, which composed his "partridge
preparations."
Lord Orford's kennel was worsted by The Swaffham
the Snowball blood over the Wharram Club-
Wolds, but the plains of Swaffham had no mightier
champion. It was at his bidding, that the club was
limited to the number of letters in the alphabet, and
each member selected a colour. If The Heath knew
well the orange and black cap of the dashing match-
maker Grosvenor, the green and white stripes of Foley
and Fox, and the mazarine blue of Standish, coursing
men watched with equal zest in Norfolk, whether
brimstone, quaker, or pompadour would be the
steward's cockade for the week.
While the turf and the leash thus held Cricketing and
their alternate six months' sway, the Archery.
Marchioness of Salisbury was tasting the delights of
the chase and the quiver. A golden bugle-horn was
sometimes the Hatfield prize, and it sounded the
reveille for many a county muster of the Woodmen of
Arden, the Bowmen of Cheviot Chase, and the
Hainault Foresters in their green and buff. While
the Essex archers were keeping summer trysts at
Fairlop Oak, the Men of Kent knew well how to
handle the willow. Earls Winchilsea, Darnley, and
two more dashing spirits thought nothing of pitting
county elevens against each other at Lord's for a
thousand guineas ; and in 1792, fourteen matches were
played for that sum, and six for half of it. The
cricketing picture of the period is strange to look upon.
The players are attired in round hats, knee-breeches,
and pig-tails ; the umpires are all frill, and two scorers
sit contentedly with slates on a form.
Goodwood subsequently achieved re- The Dawn of
nown, as the spot where Lillywhite and Goodwood.
James Broadbridge first took the hint for their round
bowling from Lambert. In 1801 its racing was of a
6 Scott and Sebright.
very lowly kind. One writer, in fact, seems to have
carried away nothing more than an indefinite idea of
" five or six roving tents, and plenty of ice and pick-
pockets." Ascot basked earlier in the smiles of
royalty; its sports were regularly opened by beat of
drum, and its cords bounded South by E O tables,
some fifty strong, and North by four-in-hands. Never
were the pigeons more heavily and more openly
winged, and one E Cite, plaintively referring to his
rich dividends of the previous year, seemed almost to
consider that in a bad summer he was entitled to com-
pensation from the Crown on its native heather, for
" the poverty of one, the death of a second, and the
compulsive abdication of a third."
The Driving The new driving era was just beginning
Era- to dawn in '93, and the procession of a
score of freshly-painted mail-coaches up St. James
Street from the Bull-and-Mouth and The-Swan-with-
Two-Necks, &c., after the birthday drawing-room, on
June 4th, with their drivers and guards in new scarlets,
and the horses in parti-coloured streamers, was be-
coming one of the most popular sights of the season.
The Driving and the Whip Clubs were not then in
being. The landlord of the Black Dog, at Bedfont,
had no visions for himself or his successors, of eleven
teams of bays at his door, with Mr. Villebois, Mr.
John Warde, and Sir Thomas Mostyn on the box.
The Buxton bit, and the Hawke head territ still slum-
bered in the brains of their inventors, and the wildest
dreams of the future " Baron Stultz,"—who gained
Beau Brummell's love by putting a ioo/.-note into each
of his dress-coat pockets, and destroyed 'Schweizer's
and Dawson's monopoly by the two hussar-jackets
which he begged to make as a favour for " The
Seventh," in Lord Anglesey's time,—did not as yet
compass that double-breasted drab driving coat, with
three tiers of pockets, and Spanish five-dollar pieces
for buttons, in which Sir Godfrey Webster found no
Turf Worthies.
7
followers. Sir Henry Peyton had not brought four
greys, or Squire Annesley four strawberry roans with
" Harlequin" as off-leader, into fashion ; and a really
crack team seldom showed at Ascot, except each
horse was of a different colour.
Nothing pleased " Farmer George" so Ascot Quaiifi-
much as to find that there was a good cation Tickets,
entry for his four-mile Hunter Plate. His Majesty
on his white horse, which did duty long before Hob
was foaled, never missed the Windsor Forest Meet, on
Holyrood Day (September 26th): and until the melan-
choly twilight of his powers stole on, he cared quite as
much to calculate how many of the horses were about
to try for their ten qualification tickets, as to look at
his hounds and men. Owners or grooms might ride
them, but it was a sine qud 11011 that the Royal Hunts-
man should see them, both at the uncarting and the
take of the deer. It made no matter how forward
they might be during the run, if both those cardinal
rules were not complied with. If three horses sue-
ceeded in winning their tickets at the end of a severe
chase, it was thought to be a good day's work ; but in
an ordinary run, very few failed, and Mr. Davis has
granted one, as an especial honour, to a lad on a pony.
The early history of the Ascot of the Doncaster Moor
North has been told so often, that there to wit-
is no need for us to go back to the 5/. $s., which was
voted by its corporate body in 1681, for five years, to
encourage the sport on their Town Moor. The return
list began in 1728 ; and the meetings were held in
July, and after shifting all over the summer months,
they finally settled down into September, about 1750.
Eight-and-twenty years after, the uncle of " Hand-
some Jack St. Leger" gave his name to the race, and
so the ball has been kept rolling to the present day.
In 1794 the light skirmishes between the mayor and
the gamblers began, but His Worship won, and like
another Lord Elgin, at Pekin, burnt the E O tables in
8
Scott and Sebright.
front of the Mansion House. Less martial mayors
succeeded, and in 1825 another civic sally had to be
made, or the very mace and meat-jack would have
been in danger. The skulking which that defeat en-
tailed upon the E Oites exasperated them to such an
extent, that they joined forces with the thimble-
riggers, and on Monday, September 14th, 1829, was
fought that sixteenth " decisive battle of the world,"
on Doncaster Moor, between the " Confederates," with
legs of tables on the one side, and His Worship, with
mounted constabulary, militia, yeomanry, volunteers,
and a posse comitatus on the other, which eventuated
in a series of exciting chases and prodigies of private
valour, whose recital still furnishes many of the older
inhabitants with an annually lengthening story over
their wine and walnuts.
The Bibury Club was also in great force each June,
with Lord Sackville, the Hon. George Germaine,
Delm& Radclifife, Ferdinando Bullock, and " Splitpost
Douglas" (an undying name conferred on him by the
Prince Regent himself) at the head of its silks. It
was there, too, that John Scott, when quite a little
Oxford lad, had his first glimpse of Sir Tatton in the
The Prince Re- saddle. The Prince Regent seldom failed
gent at Bibury. to show, and never passed the gate of
Christ Church without calling upon his old tutor, Dr.
Cyril Jackson. On one occasion he presented himself
in his full Club uniform of green coat, buckskins, and
top-boots. The Dean was as cordial as ever, but he
felt, that in those cloistered precincts, discipline must
Dr. Cyril Jack- ke maintained even with The Heir Ap-
son on Bibury parent. His stately hint at parting was
and Hunting. on ^us wise:—" Now, remember Fm
ahvays glad to see yon, except when you're dressed for
Bibury, and then I don't know that Your Royal High-
ness exists." Racing was a different matter, but the
Dean did not in his heart object to hunting, and rather
held the belief that a few fast men were not without
Turf Worthies.
9
their use to the hard readers in a large college, by
giving them something to talk about. In fact, with
rare and beautiful candour, he went so far as to say
to Lord Foley, at the beginning of an October term :
" Well, you've come back amongst us, my lord; I
suppose you've brought your red rag withyoul' Hence
under his dynasty, and before the Duke of Bedford's
political "crops" became legion, or the Duke of
Rutland's raven wig was voted the best scratch in
New Bond Street, those who wanted a gallop with
Lord Sefton could do the thing correctly, and have
their pigtails powdered for the field, after morning
chapel, in peace.
Dean Milner, the President of Queen's, had also
rather scandalized the Cambridge dons at this period,
by the report that he had, on crossing over in the
packet boat from Hull to Barton, been observed by
curious eyes to make his way towards Dean Miiner's
Mendoza, and enter, with his wonted interview with
energy, into a long conversation on box- Mendoza.
ing with him. However, he would brook no admoni-
tion on the point, and curtly replied to his ques-
tionists: "Ah! I knew he was at the head of his
profession, and I wanted to get something out of him!'
Mendoza's conqueror, Humphreys, had (as Tom
Cribb did afterwards) retired into the coal line, near
the Temple, and Mendoza, after joining a party of
" The Fancy " at the Lyceum, had accepted office as
a sutler in the Notts Militia. The regiment was then
(1798) encamped on Dorlington Heights, and "Jack
Musters," who was considered, when blue coats and
leathers came in, to divide with Brummell the honour
of being the best dressed man on town, was helping,
as ensign, to keep the coast from Bridlington to Spurn
Point.
When the Dean and the Professor held sir Tatton Sykes
their discussion, Sir Tatton Sykes was a and his sheep
young banker in Hull, and employing Tastes.
IO
Scott and Sebright.
his intervals of business between the camp and his
Leicesters. Seven years before, Barton Ferry had
been a memorable spot to him in connexion with his
first purchase of ewes. He had been smitten at
twenty-one with a desire to have some pure Bake-
wells from the late Mr. Sanday's flock; and after
selecting half-a-score at twenty guineas apiece, he
met them afterwards at Lincoln, where they arrived
from Holmpierrepont by waggon, and drove them
home in person, a three days' journey, to Barton.
He soon became a ram-letter, and September, 1861,
was the fifty-eighth anniversary of his show ; and
until he was upwards of eighty, he never missed his
annual June ride into the Midlands, to Burgess's,
Buckley's, and Stone's. This love of Leicesters has
always fought hard for supremacy with thoroughbreds
at Sledmere. It peeped out in the naming of the bay
colt, " Holmpierrepont," on which Sim Templeman
in his seven-stone days was beaten in a canter, at
York, by the dam of Charles XII.; and a somewhat
expensive complication arose because of it at Cat-
a Little Difficulty terick- Mr. Baker, of Elemore, in his
with Mr. Baker chagrin at being defeated for a Hunter's
of Elemore. Stake, construed Sir Tatton's gallant
wave of his whip to the ladies on the Stand, into
an expression of triumph over himself, and accord-
ingly made matters so hot for him at Mr. Robert
Collings's sheep sale, that he had to pay 156 guineas
for the shearling Ajax.
His Early Days The forty miles behind his ewes from
in London. Lincoln was as nothing in Sir Tatton's
eyes, as he had walked from London to Epsom and back
to see Eager's Derby in '91, starting at four on that
June Thursday, and landing back at Lamb's Conduit-
street about eleven at night. Next year he rode
down to see Buckle win it on John Bull, and he never
went to Epsom afterwards. He had first looked on
London as a Westminster boy, with his brothers
Turf Worthies.
11
Mark and Christopher; and it was a cherished recol-
lection with the three, that after often lingering for that
purpose at their tailor's, in Bolt Court, they once
caught a glimpse of Dr. Johnson, as he handed a
visitor to her carriage. In Sir Tatton's case, a pro-
bation with Messrs. Farrar and Atkinson, the solici-
tors of Lincoln's Inn Fields, followed hard upon
Westminster and Brasenose. Edwin as Jemmy
Jumps, Ranelagh, or the rope-dancing at Sadler's
Wells, where a pint of punch, " and very good punch
too," was dispensed to every box visitor, after the
third act, might be the evening's amusement, but the
young clerk had no easy time of it by day. When
he was not indirectly fostering his future Holmpierre-
pont tastes among the sheep-skins in the office, he
was dutifully bearing the green bag after Mr. Farrar
to Westminster Hall, Or to consultations His Probation in
at chambers, in one of which Erskine Lincoln's inn.
and the two Scotts were engaged. Holroyd was then
great as a special pleader, Kenyon and Buller were on
the Bench, and Thurlow's tenure of the Great Seal
was rapidly waning to its close.
Hullock and Bayley were still hard working stuffs,
but Sir Tatton met them both in their ermine, when
it became his turn to put four bays into the " Chame-
leon carriage," at York Assizes. That wonderful
county conveyance was popularly supposed to have
heard some of " The Squire's " best hunting stories,
as he conveyed his learned charges and his chaplain
to and from the Castle, and to have been the scene
of that inward resolve to challenge Clinker four miles
over Leicestershire with Clasher, which he reduced
into his own queer manuscript before he had been
ten minutes in court. It is also in the recollection
of some of its annual masters, how at Humours of the
the magistrates' dinners, Baron Hullock Yorkshire
invariably proved himself fonder of two Shrievalties,
bottles than one, and quizzed " my Brother Bayley,"
12
Scott and Sebright.
whenever he lighted by mistake on his special bottle
of toast-and-water; and how strict the latter was
with Sir Tatton and every other High Sheriff about
conducting him home to his lodgings after a late
sitting, lest, as he was wont to phrase it, "there
should be an assassin behind the door."
While these stories were current of the Puisnes,
Lord Thurlow earned no mean fame in the eyes of
Sir Tatton and the Holderness men by his conduct in
the little affair of Spaxton Vicarage. The Chancellor
a Word with had sworn up to his usual mark, when a
Lord Thurlow. young clergyman (Mr. Jaques) encoun-
tered him on the sands at Scarborough, and asked
him, without the smallest introduction and with a
very slight preface, for the then vacant living. " But
I wont go about my business," rejoined the intrepid
divine, " and what's more, it now becomes my duty, as
a clergyman, to reprove you for swearing." The man
of the awful eyebrows was fairly brought to his bear-
ings, at last. " Will you, indeed ?" he began; but
" hang it, I see you're a good fellow—you shall
have it" was the rest of the sentence, and the Chan-
cellor shook hands over it and kept his word.
SirTatton's But we must glance off from these
Race-riding, woolsack recollections to the saddle, and
the "orange body, blue sleeves, and cap" of Sled-
mere, in which the then Mr. Tatton Sykes won his
maiden race, on his brother's Sir Pertinax, at Beverley.
" Bob Lascelles," of Thirsk, was second, and Sir
Henry Boynton, Mr. Burton, and " Hamlet Thomp-
son's" father were in the ruck. Sir Tatton had on
that occasion to ride I3st, but eleven was his regular
racing weight, and he scaled ten-and-a-half over
Morpeth, at a pinch. No one ever loved a mount
better, and he rode until he was above sixty for any
one who asked him, without a thought about fatigue
or distance. On one occasion, after riding 63 miles
from Sledmere that morning he was second to Mr.
Ttirf Worthies.
13
Lindow (half-brother to Mr. Rawlinson, the owner of
Coronation), in the four-mile Macaroni Stakes, at
Pontefract, slept at Doncaster that night, and was
beaten in another four-mile heat race against " Split-
post Douglas," at Lincoln next day. Twice over he
journeyed from Sledmere to Aberdeen, with his racing
jacket under his waistcoat, and a clean shirt and a
razor in his pocket, for the sake of a mount on the
Marquis of Huntley's Kutusoff, and Sir David Mon-
crieff's Harlequin, when the Welter Stakes was the
greatest race in Scotland; and without stopping to
dine went back to sleep at Brechin that night, and
reached Doncaster after a six days' ride, just in time
to see Blacklock beat for the St. Leger. Kutusoff,
whom he thought to be decidedly the best he was
ever on, did not win that bout, but the victory in
" the white and black cap" of Sir David, in '22,
squared up his Scottish luck. The 360 miles were
done, principally in the forenoon, on a little blood
mare, and with the exception of a slight stiffness she
seemed no worse.
Caller Ou's St. Leger was the seventy- visits to Don-
sixth Sir Tatton had seen, with only one caster,
break, from illness, in Charles XII.'s and Euclid's
year ; and he lodged for forty years with a cow-keeper
in Sheffield Lane, who offered him a bed by accident,
when he arrived late one night, and not another roost-
ing place was to be had in the town. When Tom
Carter died in 1854, he ceased to ride to Doncaster ;
but when Tom was at his side, they used to meet at
Pocklington, and come through between four and
four, and sleep at Booth Ferry on the Cup evening.
The first of his rides to London was in His Rides to
1805, when he sat for his portrait to Sir London.
Thomas Lawrence in the scarlet coat, and black silk
breeches, &c., which formed the evening costume of
the Castle Howard Hunt. Sir Mark and Lady Sykes,
who are also in the group, returned from the easel to
H
Scott and Sebright.
the North with him. It was Christmas week, and his
little blood mare required sharping twice a-day, but
after spending two evenings with the carriage party
at Eaton and Newark, her rider supped with them at
York on the third. The ride three-and-forty years
after, to Mr. Grant's studio was accomplished quite
easily in June, partly on the black horse (by Colwick,
from Lord Chesterfield's grey mare, Mad Moll), which
with its rider numbered 108 years, when Sir Tatton
was last on him at the cover side, and partly on the
chestnut Revenge, by Recovery; and a peep at Buck-
ley's and Burgess's beguiled the way.
Death and time combined had wrought a mighty
change among the familiar faces of " Sportsman's
Hall" between those two visits. Colonel Mellish, who
commanded the Prince's crack " German troop," in
The Old Race the Tenth, and whom a few can still re-
of Turfites, member raising his white hat ironically
to his friends in the Grand Stand, as he sat behind
his four browns, and saying, " If Sanchos beat, I hope
some of you will take me for a coachman," had died
in his prime. Martin Hawke, of whom it was told
that he always clove the air with his hand, whenever
he saw a magpie, had failed to avert the omen. With-
in a year of each other, Sir Charles Turner, who swore
by King Fergus, Sir Hedworth Williamson, who
twice had good reason to bless his " saucy Arethusa "
when the Derby were over, Mr. Wentworth, whose
Chance found few save Haphazard to beat him, and
Mr. Gascoigne, the great liegeman of the Delpini
blood, had been laid under the turf of their hearts,
and scarcely a jockey save Sammy King was living,
who had begun the century at York or Epsom.
The Old Derby Up to that very visit the Jockey Club
Course. authorities had been faithful in practice,
as John Scott and nearly all the elder trainers and
jockeys are in heart to the Old Derby Course, with
its nice gentle rise of three-quarters of a mile, which
Turf Worthies,
15
" nearly settled the thing before Tattenham Corner
and it is somewhat remarkable that Sim Templeman
should have won the last Derby and Oaks on Cos-
sack and Miami over it, and opened the new era
with another double benefit on Surplice and Cymba.
Betting had been as tardy in its growth EarIy Betting
as the American aloe, during the first few
years of this eventful interval. Owners were ready
enough to put down money for a match, but did not
care to speculate deeply about other people's horses.
Much of that spirit still lingered which had made
Lord Grosvenor offer to match any three out of his
stable against the same number of the Duke of
Bedford's for ten thousand; but till bookmaking
gradually became a profession, getting the odds laid
was always a matter of difficulty, and it was told as
quite a marvellous thing, that Sir John Shelley should
win nine thousand guineas on Phantom's Derby in
1811. Another kind of ring had risen so high in '17,
when Molyneux was open to " fight any man born of
woman bar Tom Cribb," that the first wits of the day
flocked round Incledon at Tom's anniversary Tavern
dinner near St. James's Square, to hear Edmund Kean
return thanks for the drama and take a second in
" All's well." It was in this year, that the The Certainties
two greatest certainties in the North and of 17.
South came to nought. The first favourite Student
was beaten to a standstill at Epsom by his own " valet"
Azor, and, like him, the mighty Blacklock was also
snapped by the very last horse in the betting at Don-
caster. Still, despite these turns for the fielders, the
betting was at least forty per cent, below that of the
two preceding seasons. Chester seems to have been
the one bright exception. Such was the crush and
excitement during the heats, that " two ladies fainted
and two gentlemen betted over them, two course-
clearers were knocked down, and nobody picked them
up"
i6
Scott and Sebright.
How they Kept This difficulty about course-clearing
the Course at effected an important alteration at Ep-
Epsom. som. In the Prince Regent's day, it was
the custom for the royal party to leave the Grand
Stand, and lunch with Mr. Ladbroke the banker at
Hedley, as soon as the Derby was over. The trainers
and spectators whiled away this interval between
two and four, by dining in the town or the tents ;
and hence the running for the plates was conducted,
like those memorable evening sittings at the Old
Bailey, in a very vinous mist. There was not much
value received by the authorities after dinner from
the Surrey labourers, who got eighteen-pence per
diem to " make a waie for the horse-race ; " and re-
gard for human life called loudly for reform. The
crowd broke in when Gustavus and Reginald
" worked together from end to end in the Derby, as
if it was run a match." Buckle's horse stared about
him as Russborough did in a similar dilemma, and
the old man's nerve rather went; while Sam Day,
who kept close at his girths, thus graphically de-
scribes their journey from Tattenham Corner, " We
zvoirnd in and out, for all the world like a dog at a
fair?
If Sam's shabby little grey, which was purchased
The Year of f°r a Pony at Hampton Court, was not
Gustavus and worthy of his steersman, Robinson proved
Augusta. t0 worid next day, that Augusta was
one of the soundest and best mares that ever dared
to make all her own running and win the Oaks.
There was no little disappointment that autumn,
when the terms of a match could not be arranged
between her and Jack Spigot, on whom Bill Scott
had just verified that favourite axiom, which came
booming out to the end of his days, whenever turf-
scale rogueries were mooted : " Only give me a good
horse, and quicksilver be hanged? If Augusta did not
measure conclusions with the St. Leger winner, she
Turf Worthies.
17
defeated Emilius (of whom Robson, whose word was
law, declared that there " had been no such horse
since the days of John Bull ") three years after, in
nearly as heavy a match as that between " the hen-
speckled Sultan" and Banker ; but neither she nor
Jack were in the great A.F. race, that First October, for
the Grand Duke Michael Cup. Its Royal donor
stayed with the Duke of Rutland at the Palace
during the races, and saw Sam Day win it for Lord
Grosvenor on Michaelmas, with four others not beaten
a length.
The afternoon parade on Easter Sun- The Warren Hill
day was looked forward to year after Parade,
year at Newmarket, as the great Warren Hill prelude
to the first Craven meeting of the morrow, and " half
Cambridge came over." Trainers who never took
kindly to the Robsonian system of having their
horses out at four, morning and afternoon, for six
months of the year, relaxed their code for that day ;
and vied with each other in their new lad-liveries. The
Jersey and Shelley lot of Tiny Edwards, than whom
none knew better when to slip it into them, and when
to let well alone, was distinguished as the " brown, and
white metal buttons." The Duke of York's, under the
command of Frank and Will Butler's father, formed
" the drab division blue with red waistcoats marked
the approach of Lord Foley's ; drab with red and
white stripes (borrowed from Tom Panton The Squire
of Newmarket, for whom Jim Robinson's father
trained) of the Brothers Chifney, with the jaunty and
wide-awake Will at their side; while the Heath in-
separables, Lord Henry Fitzroy and Robson, headed
the long Indian file of the Grafton grey-coats and
leather-breeches. As time went on those two clerically-
dressed figures were seen no more, and Bob Stephen-
son was in command for the Duke as well as Lord
Egremont. Boyce was there on behalf of his good
master from Bel voir, John Howe represented the
c
i8
Scott and Sebright.
Sowerby interest, and Cotton that of Lord Verulam ;
while Cooper was 011 duty for " Payne and Greville,"
and sturdy little Pettit for Mr. Stonehewer, whose
love of neatness extended to having his boot-soles
blacked. Nearly all of that trainer band have passed
away, and so has the King's Chair Pond, with
the odd practice to which it gave rise, of taking the
horses to the troughs to drink, and giving them a final
canter " to warm the water."
The Nomination The same afternoon produced nearly
Night at York. as great a Yorkshire parade at Hamble-
ton; but the spirit of racing never glowed more
brightly at " Old Ebor," than on the evening of each
New Year's Day. The trainers held their nomination
dinner, over which John Scott for many years presided,
at Sylvester Reed's of the Old Sand Hill Tavern ;
and all that varied turf artillery of talent which had
been laid up in ordinary since Richmond, was brought
into action by night-fall at The Star in Stonegate.
Lord Kennedy, Mr. Rhodes Milnes, Mr. Milbanke,
and Sir William Maxwell could have hardly been
happy away; and the Earl of Darlington never failed
to drop in and do a smart stroke of business on the
St. Leger. When that great problem of the Northern
year was about to be solved, the scene was changed to
TheLegerEveat the front, and the long room of The
the Salutation. Salutation. Those who were there to
mark the feverish anxiety of the crowd as the loyal
phalanx of " Croft's men" bore up for their stable
against the dashing assaults of Mr. Gully in his
kerseymeres and top-boots—with Crockford and his
curious half-grammar, the terrible Justice, and the
reckless Ridsdale, to aid him—could never forget it
more.
Kirby was waiting for an innings, and, as often as
not, scoring badly when he got one ; Tommy Swann
(who detested betting with a captain who had a patch
on his boot, as much as booking the odds on a Sun-
Turf Worthies.
19
day), and Michael Brunton were doing a safe little
game on the quiet, and Crutch Robinson would lean
against the outer wall or make his way crutch Robin-
to the horse-block, and sit there full of son's Sayings
his gammon, and yet watching the market and Doinss-
with the eye of a glede hawk. He made it his rule of
life to " lay agin the Manchester pick." It might be
that it was his peculiar mode of upholding the rival
dignity of Staley Bridge, but he never swerved from
it. To hot favourites he had a deathless dislike, and
as he maintained that it was the specialty of the Man-
Chester mind not only to back them, but to run after
them, when they came on to the course, he found him-
self perpetually ministering to its enthusiasm, by
laying the odds. " I may just as weel have thee five
pun as anybody else," was the phrase in which he gra-
ciously signified his intentions of operating.
If anyone said that a horse was dead amiss, or fit to
run for a man's life, he never believed it; and he was
equally sceptical about their doing such great things
in private. " Nar, nar ! thou knawest a great deal aboot
it, I dar say," was his stereotyped reply, when he
heard of those marvellous trials, which are so rife before
the Derby; and then came his inevitable proposal,
" Pit bet thee five pun ; I may as weel have my expenses,
&c." This antipathy to favourites was so rooted, that
if anything was backed against the field for a large
stake, he would invariably stand the latter for five
hundred. He seldom drank anything himself, but
when he was fairly ensconced of an evening in the
Black Rear at Newmarket, he was far from happy if
Joe Rogers, who was always staunch to his friends and
spaniel, Sam Darling, and a few more of them, did
not look in to "pull up the score." His jockeys were
not much troubled with orders from him beyond, "Ride
as thoo likest, only mind and wind Of all his race-
horses he loved best to discourse of Stockport, and he
ought to have known his form to an ounce, as he
c 2
20
Scott and Sebright.
never wearied of trying him on Delamere Forest. His
Liverpool was also a favourite theme, but when he
boasted about selling him for seventeen hundred, he
always wound up the recital with some dark grievance
of " thirteen pun for the togs."
Michael Any one who conversed with Michael
Brunton. Brunton about horses, was sure to hear of
Atalanta. " Bless you," he was wont to say, when
they pressed him with modern cracks, " old A talanta
zvould have snuffed them tip her nose." Physician was
always his delight, more especially for his delicate
step, which "wouldn't crush an egg." His betting
creed was concise, and based mainly on the principle,
that " none are so good to bet with as trainers ; if there
are twenty of them in a race they've all got a good
horse." He never took less than 3 to 1, or laid
more than 5 to 2, and if he lost, he watched night and
day for his man till he paid him. No one lost with
oetter grace, and " Bubbled again!" was his only
ebullition.
The Old School of The trainers in drab breeches and
Yorkshire Train- gaiters of the period were strictly in
ers—Thuytes. keeping with these old-fashioned odd-
dealers. Thuytes of Middleham was quite a character
among them, and hailed for a time from Tupgill. It
was there that he first enunciated to a friend his great
theory of Perpetual Motion. " By the Godlins, I can
find out how to save a horse's legs, and mak him run
for ever :—tak a feed of corn off a day." He was one
of the first Northern trainers who adopted long tails,
and he did it on the ground that "horses came into
His Views on Tails the world with them, and didn't want
and Training, besom stumps." He thought a good deal
on this subject, and highly approved of the old horse-
dealer, who, to all seeming, seldom cared to do more
than pass his hand down to the dock. If it was a
strong one, he took the backbone for granted, " only a
continuation of it,—Maister."
Turf Worthies.
21
Mark Plews was a mixture of a black- Mark plews
smith and a farmer, and if there was a
Richmond horse in the St. Leger, he invariably stood
it. When Vingt-un from Belle Isle was all the rage,
Mark and his wife got on without telling each other,
one to win 251, for himself, and the other 4/. in part-
nership with Mrs. Pierse. These daring ventures got
bruited about, and hence when the town express,
which was managed on state occasions by sending
horses on to Ferrybridge the day before, arrived at
midnight with the news of the defeat, one of the large
party which sat up for it, could think of no other con-
solation than hoaxing " Old Mark." The window
was not far from the ground, and the delegate was
enabled to report, word for word, the matrimonial
colloquy which followed the shout of " Vingt-un s
won? Mark was furious when the truth came out in
the morning, and threatened in vain to walk all over
Yorkshire, if he could only discover the owner of the
voice.
He always delivered his mind about H.^ interview
1 .. 1 . r r j Wltb the Mar-
man or horse, without fear or favour ; and qujS of Queens-
was looked upon by some as no mean berry-
authority. When the Marquis of Queensberry, whose
waist was quite as capacious as his own, requested
him to come and give him his confidential opinion
of Caledonian's chance for the Leger, he mounted his
spectacles and took a protracted survey. His rainbow
neck he dismissed in silence, and then he broke out
with, " He wants what you and me has gitten, my Lord
—hinder ribs, hinder ribs and in went his spectacles
to their case once more.
The Marquis had John Smith for his johnSmith
trainer both in Scotland and at Middle-
ham, and then he went to the Duke of Cleveland at
Raby. In all these wanderings, his heart still turned
to the Streatlam of his younger days (where he first
wooed and won his Peggy, who was housekeeper at
22
Scott and Sebright.
the Castle), and the lot he trained for Lord Strath-
more. If a friend came to see him, as soon as " only
some thin ribs of mutton and a craw pie," which is,
being interpreted, a most excellent dinner, was over,
his first toast was to that master's memory. " He was
the best master/' he used to say, " that I ever served;
he made me a Tory." Still his loyalty to his dead
Lord was quite equalled by that which one of his own
Middleham stable lads showed towards himself. As
he was setting out with his horses for Lancaster, he
suddenly recollected that he had left his hair-brush,
and sent Jem Alderson, alias " Botty" * (who was
under-valet at the time to Cartwright, alias " Harro-
gate,") in immediate search of it. "Botty" began
doing up his mare, and for a time quite forgot his
commission; and then snatching the brush out of the
dressing-case rushed wildly after the lot on the road
to Kettlewell, which was the first stage. The horses
were nearly done up for the night, when one of the
lads ran to tell his master that they had caught a
glimpse of " Botty," running in his shirt-sleeves, and
without his cap, and brought him out of the inn with
a rush, under the firm impression that some disaster
had happened at home. " Please sir, Fve brought you
your hair-brush" said the gasping lad ; but " Get into
the stable, and don't let any one see that I've such a fool
about me" was his only welcome. However, Smith gave
him the fullest credit in his heart, and had him con-
veyed the eighteen miles back in a miller's wagon,
which happened to be passing. Such perseverance
was certain to succeed, and when " Botty" became too
heavy and had saved a good deal of money from
presents, he became groom to Mr. Christy, the great
hat-maker, and was eventually placed in one of his
farms.
Smith was severe with his lads, but he always
* In the Yorkshire dialect, "above himself."
Turf Worthies.
23
hedged by saying during the ash-plant process, " Thou'It
come to me in ten years' time, and thank me on thy knees
for saving thee from the gallows!' " Only cruel
to be kind" had never a finer exemplification. His
" poor Peggy" was a rare helpmate, but she still
sighed for Middleham (where their charity and kind-
ness will long be remembered), during her Raby
sojourn. "Anything that comes from Mrs. Smith's Love
Middleham must be fed at all ends," for Middleham.
was her spouse's invariable remark, when he found
her giving an apple out of the window to Maria, the
dam of Euclid and Theon, or any of her especials,
which would regularly stop to claim it on their way
from exercise ; and he lived under a moral conviction,
that "poor Peggy and Maria betwixt them will break
all the glass about the place." The wish of the
former to return to Middleham was fulfilled, and she
and her John died at their house directly opposite
" Croft's old stables," from whence the four first
horses for the St. Leger, and three of them Comuses,
set out for Doncaster in Theodore's year, and had
their deeds recorded on their trainer's marble.
Tommy Sykes was a great advocate for long steady
work on Langton Wold, and he could Gid Sykes and
have stayed any distance over cards, his Card in-
He was of grim aspect, and most rigidly spection.
orthodox in his silence during the game, except when
he felt it salutary to say to his partner, " Thoo mats
a very poor tew of it!' A Malton landlady, who knew
his forte, implored him to counsel and shield her
husband, when he had got up a little card party on
the sly. " Do go up, Mr. Sykes," she said, " and see
after my poor Jacky ; I fear lies only got among a
baddish lot." A very few minutes satisfied Tommy
how matters stood, and he was shortly enabled to
descend with a clear conscience, and beg the anxious
wife " not to trouble yourself , for Jacky's the biggest
rogue amongst them!'
24
Scott and Sebright.
Bill Pierse Billy Pierse had a wife who looked
still more wisely after his interests, and
made the most admirable Clary wine. It was, in
fact, quite a moot point with him, whether he did not
prefer it to that pipe of port which Sir William Gerard
sent him when he won the Oaks on his Oriana, and
which, with another from the same hand, lasted him his
life. His belief that " If I ever saved a shilling, my
wife saved sixpence," was fully verified after his death,
as his son Tom succeeded to a stable full of horses,
with six hunded bushels in the corn chamber, and no
debts. For three years he had no luck at Belle Isle,
and was about to migrate to Hambleton, when his wife
entreated him to stay "just one year more," and then
came their harvest home. Mr. Kay, the banker, who
used occasionally to invest a fiver on his advice,
admired his character so much, that he was always
believed to be the invisible friend, who presented him
with the place. Billy was never known to quarrel
with any one in Richmond, and he was so popular
with the little freehold owners round there, that by
way of homage they used to lead manure on to his
land, and top-dress it without leave.
Mrs. Pierse took a large share in the management
of the stable, and her husband always said that she
had the quickest eye of the two for finding out if a
horse was lame. She was, in short, the exact counter-
part in the North, of Grandmother Day, with her
walking-stick and black crunch bonnet, in the South.
Mrs. Pierses Morning after morning, she would stand
Training Tact. at the door, with her hands behind her,
marking each horse as it left the yard; and if there
came, " I say, turn him back, mun, that horse is I came,
I see',' in the broad dialect of Yorkshire, there could
be no mistake about it. In domestic matters, Billy
never interfered, except, firstly by enforcing a goose
every Sunday during the season (which he never
thoroughly believed in, " except my wife roasts it ")
Turf Worthies.
25
and secondly by always buying and spreading out
triumphantly on the dresser, when it arrived, just
twice as much meat as was wanted whenever, purse
in hand, he had chosen to sally forth to market. On
this one point he was so proof to the last against all
experience, that the poor people who shared the over-
plus began to think that his good soul of a wife
secretly backed him in the habit. She was always
her own almoner, and her plain useful education and
sound sense made them quite a pattern couple.
The excessive shortness of his legs rather spoilt her
Billy's seat on horseback, and he could not always
use them to advantage when he was wasting. Jacques
and Ben Smith walked with him once from Lancaster
to Ashton Hall, on the morning of the races, but they
were obliged to leave him behind at last on the road
side, and he returned rather crestfallen in a cart.
Riding and training had taught him the great general
rule, which he scarcely ever found to His Test of Two-
fail him—" If a two-year-old wins by year-old Form,
half-a-neck, or even a length, with difficulty, depend
upon it the whole squad's bad." As a powerful
finisher and judge of pace, especially when he was on
Haphazard, he stood in the first rank, and although
he was such a one to dodge the lads, and knee their
elders, when he had a chance, he was looked up to as
quite a Lyndhurst in the profession. Mr. Tomline,
the judge at Richmond, used often to tell how deftly
he stopped a quarrel between Field and Mangles, who
had ridden a very punishing finish, and got to high
words about the issue. Trotting back Tact in stopping
past the chair to weigh in, he called out, a Quarrei.
" Hozv far did I win, Mr. Tomline f" " You, Mr.
Pierse ? why you were beaten three lengths," was the
response; and even the belligerents could not help
laughing when they saw Billy's polite bow, and heard
his dry rejoinder, " Thankyon, sir; that alters the case
materially
26
Scott and Sebright.
His whole book reading was confined to the Bible
and Smith's Wealth of Nations. It was calculated
that he had gone through each of them about thirty
times, and they were his joy and solace to the last.
His studies in With his arms folded on the table he
Political Eco- would study Political Economy sternly
norny. for pours together. Although he gained
largely by always paying ready money, he did not
scruple, as we have seen in meat matters, to openly
violate all the most cherished doctrines of supply and
demand ; but, armed with arguments at every point,
he would occasionally open his mind to Sir Tatton,
even when they were both dressed to ride, on the
influx of bullion and the medium of exchange, sub-
jects which threatened at times quite to weigh him
clown. Why John Day should be the only " Honest"
man in the world also puzzled him as sorely, as
he did his own friends with the question, whether, in a
commercial point of view, "the French will ever get
us on to all-fours ?" and he carried out his principle
of selling in the dearest and buying in the cheapest
market, by giving a few of the cordmen in Manches-
ter an occasional stable tip, and carrying back as
many yards of corduroy as breeched his stable lads
for the year.
The Borodino Mr. J°hff was the repository of one of
Tip in the Bed- his most cherished secrets. Billy went
room. oyer to an(j sieep at house, and
after a very pleasant evening was ended, his host
heard unmistakeable signals of distress in one of the
guest-chambers. On entering, he found a little bare-
headed figure, in a long nightgown, which turned out
to be Billy, pacing about the room, quite on the fret,
because " my wife has forgotten to put up my night-
cap, Mr. Joliff, and I can't sleep without one." He
was soon fitted with a substitute, and his peace of
mind was restored. " These are very high beds of
yours, Mr. Joliff" he observed, "/ cant get in, do
Turf Worthies.
27
give me a leg tip" This was also done with as much
solemnity as if the St. Leger bell was ringing. Billy
was tucked in, and felt at once warm and grateful.
" Mr. Jolijf',' said he, "you've been very kind and
neighbourly to me to-day, Mr. Jolijf-—I wish to make
some return—it goes no further—Borodino's a race•
horse—Goodnight, Sir!"
He never betted, and hated to hear of either
trainers or jockeys doing much that way; and his last
mount was on Sir Walter, at Richmond, in 1819, for
Col. Cradock, who thought very highly of him, and in
later years always had him as his carriage companion
to Doncaster and back. One of the most striking
pictures of him is that in which he and Tom are look-
ing at the Shuttle mare, with Simon at her foot. She
was originally given to Billy by Sir William Gerard,
after she broke her fetlock, and she nearly equalled
the fame of Pratt of Askrigg's Squirt mare (twelve of
whose seventeen foals turned out well), by throwing
nineteen, with Swiss amongst them. Simon proved
himself in a rough gallop, as a yearling, to be nearly
as good as the three-year-old Canteen, from the Grey-
stone In ; but he died very soon afterwards from rup-
ture of the heart.
Old Forth was another of those trainer- Qld Forth
jockeys, of which Yorkshire has been
pretty prolific, but he became so naturalized at Mit-
chell Grove, that the Southrons seemed to claim him.
To the last he kept his " Frederick weight," and rode
in trials with the same fine patience and tact. He
loved to come through with the old one, and con-
sidered that " two year olds would do much greater
things with each other than threes." Frederick, Little
Wonderv and Merry Monarch were all trained by him,
and through them he framed the rule, that " if you
try a two-year-old a reeker for a quarter-of-a-mile at
even weights with a Derby winner, and the young un
cannot win, depend upon it he's not worth backing
28
Scott and Sebright.
for Epsom." The Goodwood Cup was the race he
loved best, and he was sure, that " if a horse wins
that really well trained, it is all up with him for the
Leger." Even for it or anything else, he would never
try more than a mile and a quarter, and if they could
get that distance well, he was " quite ready to take
the rest on credit." Buckle and Jim Robinson were
his jockey idols, and he used to say that he would
gladly have given 500/. a-year to have the first call
of " Old Frank." He delighted to dwell on those
finishes in which Buckle brought his horse with such
energy on the post, "that the very plates flew into
the air."
Buckle, Robin- John Day's decided opinion about
son, and Chif- " Old Frank " was, that if you threw him
ney- up in the air in any part of the country,
he would be certain to fall on a horse at the post, all
ready to begin. His courage was quite on a par with
the bull-dog's, which never left his heels ; and when a
man nearly twice his weight annoyed him at The
Star, it took five or six to choke him off again. His
weakest point was his judgment in a trial and on
horses generally; and it was calculated that he must
have lost hundreds of pounds by bad hack bargains
alone. Still, take him for all in all, Jim Robinson,
with his short heads on the post, and Sam Chifney
with his mighty rushes, we cannot wonder that the
old school of Turfites dwell very fondly on the past,
and declare that it was " quite worth all the meeting's
expenses to see those three ride." As for Sam, they
said that it was equal to a tenner, just to watch him
canter an awkward horse. " Of Newmarket" may
well be the solitary and stately comment on his head-
stone at Hove ; but still our senior jockeys generally
acknowledge, and none more cordially than John and
Alfred Day, that Jim was "the schoolmaster" from
whom they formed their style.
Old Chifney rode so long, that he hardly seemed
Turf Worthies.
29
Co rise in his saddle, and his son as well GrmdfalherDay
as lom (jroodisson carried the practice and Tom
to an extreme. Tom suffered from it two Goodisson.
or three times on the Heath, and more especially when
Grandfather Day, who was two-and-twenty stone, and
always the boy for a lark, caught him upon the road
after Exeter races, and gammoned him to put on his
cap and jacket, fasten his hack to the gigshafts, and
ride it as leader for him into Devonport. The crowd,
which rolled up like a snowball to see the great sight,
frightened the hack by their cheers, and bolting into
a shop window, it landed Tom headforemost among a
pile of shawls. He rode no more leaders to the day
of his death, and never at any period of his life did he
look like a jockey, although he was a very good and
fortunate one. There was no absence of mind in the
saddle ; but if he asked a friend to dine, it was just as
likely as not that he would take up a little thumb-piece,
walk round the table chewing it in silence, and depart
to a glass and a pipe elsewhere for the remainder of
the evening. Owing to his height, Wheat- wheatley and
ley had much difficulty in wasting, and Cllft-
although he won the Derby on Prince Leopold and
Spaniel, and was entrusted with Velocipede for the St.
Leger, the impression left on posterity was, that he
had great splay feet, and would always stick them out.
Copperbottom was the first horse that Clift looked
after, when he went into the Marquis of Rockingham's
stables, under Kit Skaife, and the name well fore-
shadowed the future riding and walking powers of the
lad. He was forty-foilr when he received the Fitz-
william green jacket, and he held it till he could ride
no more, and Harry Edwards succeeded him. Once
only did he win the St. Leger, and then it was snatched
not out of the fire, but the ditch, into which he and
Paulina were driven. The lodge on the north side of
Wentworth Park still retains his name, and if no
jockey can say ditto to his winning the Derby in a
3°
Scott mid Sebright.
trot, they are equally unable to boast that they ever
judged at Ashdown.
Bill Amuii on Bill Arnull infinitely preferred cock-
Money Matters, fighting to coursing, and saving money to
both. His friends used to tell him that he would go
without victuals for a month, if he saw his way to a
sovereign. This feeling grew upon him after he lost
an action at Cambridge, and for years, as he reflected
on those painful costs and damages, he would remark
" I've never swallowed that four hundred yet." To
realize when you can was his prevailing idea, and
" I'd put my horse in Button Park," was the mode in
which he conveyed it. Robinson could always out-
ride him ; but he had a high saddle repute, and quite
a mania for winning both in public and private.
I-Ience he would stop the pace so cleverly on the
trial horse, that he could invariably win on him, and
then blame the lads for not getting theirs out. The
thing happened so often, that the Exeter stable at last
put some one else up to come right away. He was very
gouty, and a wretched walker in consequence, and it
was curious to see him get off " his great grey like a
giraffe," and helped with a straight leg on to the horse
he had to steer.
William Ed- William Edwards (who won his maiden
wards. race over Newmarket, in 1800), is the-
Southern Nestor among jockeys ; and he and Sir
Tatton had all the wins to themselves on the last day
of Doncaster, four years later, one with Gratitude and
Lady Brough, and the other with his brother's Sir
Pertinax. What Will most grudged losing was the
Doncaster Cup, which was then nearly a four-mile
race, on Lord Fitzwilliam's Orville. He was a mere
feather at the time, and he begged hard for a curb-
bridle ; but the trainer knew his colt to be such a slug,
that he only said " the farther he rims away the more
Plot to make Or- hell beat them? Jackson on Alonzo and
viiie run away. Shepherd on Sir Solomon thought very
Ttirf Worthies.
3i
differently, and decided, in a hasty council of war,
that it was their bounden duty to make the Leger
winner run away. Accordingly they got the lad
between them, and one, by sly taps of the whip,
and the other by sundry toe administrations, waked
up his colt most effectually for him. It was in vain
for him to shout when he saw their game, " Fit tell the
Jockey Club of you f and Jackson finished up the
matter, by kneeing him on to the rails. Three hun-
dred guineas was Mr. Watt's present to George
Edwards for winning the One Thousand on Cara, and
that daring horseman well deserved such a sweetener.
His brother Harry had still more power, and fairly
drove his horse before him, sitting back in his set-to
like Robinson, and spurring in front of the girths.
No man got himself up better, and when he and Sam
Darling were side by side, the one might be seen turn-
ing up his cuffs for the fray, and the other pulling
down his ruffles.
Although Jackson was only one Leger TohnTackson
short of Bill Scott, and had for many
years the finest practice in the North, he just lacked
Bill's dash, and with a first-class rider he would get
into difficulties at the finish. John Shepherd was a
splendid judge of pace, and very fond, as a young
man, of coming to meetings in a chaise and pair, when
others were glad to hack it. Some of his finest races
were won on Sir Solomon, whose power of making
his own play in a four-mile race was as remarkable as
his rider's seat. Shepherd held himself so bolt up-
right, that there was quite a hollow in the middle of
his back, and he kept his foot straight out before him,
to the point of the horse's shoulder. Ben Smith's
patience and loyalty were nobly con- BeHSmith
spicuous, when he refused to dismount
from the Duke of Hamilton's Ironsides, after a horse
had broken his leg with a kick, and he won the race
as he deserved. It was a deed worthy of the good,
32
Scott and Sebright.
simple-hearted creature, and the connexion with the
stable was only ended by the Duke's death. Two St.
Legers fell to their lot in the course of it, and it is
remarkable that the two he won for Mr. Gascoigne,
resulted from the only mounts that gentleman ever
gave him.
Maiaprop Sayings His Malapropisms formed a fund of
of Ben. amusement to the county, and were duly
repeated as " Ben's last." When, however, it trans-
pired that he had gone forth to commune with Nature
at Studley, and had spoken on his return to Middle-
ham, of "fine ravenues and turpentine walks," York-
shire shook her head, and wouldn't have it. There
was plenty of the genuine article without drawing on
fancy. An affidavit could have been sworn, if neces-
sary, that on more than one occasion he had observed
to an owner, " I should say, Sir, that horse of yours is
fifteen four or five." " If you'll only buy that horse,
Sir," he remarked.to another, " Pll warrant hell win
all the Maiden Plates in Scotland." His only com-
ment on three Sir Peters, which Mr. Baillie of Meller-
stein showed him, was to the effect: " Ph lay, Sir,
thou maans them to be in the rearand he used his
favourite adjuration, "By the Lord Harry, that's a fine
colt" to such an extent, when Mr. Henry Peirse of
Bedale invited him to a similar inspection, that his
host might well ask rather tartly after his departure,
" What on earth did the fellow mean ' Harrying' me
every minute ?" With all his quiet ways, he did a
little of the kneeing business occasionally; but when
he began it with Jackson, there came the fierce North
Riding challenge : " By thee heart, my lad, thoos try-
ing it on. P11 gie it thee," and at it they both went,
and after fairly cutting each other's jackets off their
backs, returned to scale in peace.
Early Humours , Bob Johnson was an equally good-
of Bob John- hearted fellow, though much rougher in
son- his speech, full of activity and a quick
Turf Worthies.
33
starter, but in far too great a hurry to get home. He
was born at Sunderland, and was apprenticed to a
quack doctor. This gentleman also did a little in
smuggled spirits, and often sent Bob out to his cus-
tomers, with two tin cases full of gin on his shoulders.
On one of his journeys, he met the Lambton hounds,
and his pony becoming excited by the cry, and the
flapping of the empty cases, carried him with a tre-
mendous cannon against Sir Hedworth Williamson,
who was at first disposed to be very angry. However,
the lad's enthusiasm under difficulties disarmed the
baronet, and he often told the story when Bob
had become famous. The budding apothecary soon
deserted the herb and spirit business, and after a pro-
bation at Ellerker's of Hart's, he become a light-
weight at Croft's. Ottrington, who, as he elegantly re-
marked, "had tired like muck," in all his other races, was
the first St. Leger winner he rode. His orders were
to watch Manuella, and when he found his horse living
on, and the Oaks mare sinking, he irreverently ex-
claimed as he swept past the old Richmond jock,
" Hoo do ye like me, Mr. Pierse ?" Well might Billy
say afterwards, in his anguish, that " for cheek that
Bob Johnson beats them all."
His first connexion with General Chasse First Mount
was brought about rather oddly. Sir on General
James Boswell came to see his string, Chass<^
which were at Ashgill for a short time, and consulted
with Fobert, as to whom he should get to ride the
chestnut, in his maiden race at Liverpool. " Yonder"s
Robert Johnson breaking sticks, Sir James; he"s
nearly as good as any of them" said Fobert, point-
ing in the direction of Tupgill, where the ever-
busy Robert then resided; "he's just the man for
him? " In course I can ride him," said Bob, when
he had been waved up; " we've nought in, have
we, Mr. Fobert f" This question was absolutely
necessary, as he left everything to his brother-in-
D
34
Scott and Sebright.
law Watson Lonsdale, and Robert Hill his head
lad.
Even if any one asked him about a pedigree (which
they took care to do pretty often), he gave his in-
variable answer, "In course thou knaws, lies by laud
horse, out of laud meer." However, if he forgot their
pedigrees, or rather never learnt them, he gave a pretty
vivid sketch of their capabilities when he had scaled
in. He had not ridden Chasse in his trial, and did
not therefore expect to find him such a lurcher, and
Sir James was equally unprepared for his definition of
the chestnut, as " a nice donkey of a divil—donkey I
tell therd Still, owners felt great confidence in him,
and if Bill Scott carried off four St. Legers in sue-
cession, Bob, Mangles, and Ben Smith were the only
jockeys who could boast of having won it three years
out of four. Relying on this prestige, his friends were
wont to consult him at Doncaster as to his chance;
but they never got much more out of him than " In
His Perpetual C01Lrse, thoo may back me to be third—likely
Thirds for the enough t'audplace—I never getforwarder.''
St. Leger. That was true enough after St. Patrick's
year. When the Barefoot St. Leger was run twice
over, he held that place each time on Comte d'Artois ;
and Emancipation, La Fille Mai Gardde, Bedlamite,
General Chass6, and Beeswing only riveted the spell.
Bedlamite suffered severely from that terrible shower
which almost washed away horse and man during the
first parade that was ever made for the great race,
and Bob, who was always up early, and away towards
the distance to " try his stirrups," resolutely refused
to accept the umbrella and great coats which were
pressed upon him, and ended, as in General Chasse's
case, with making his run too soon.
His Fail at He got an ugly fall over Doncaster on
Doncaster. the Nutwith day. Trainers were then
allowed to ride on the course when the horses were
running, and Tom Dawson, in galloping up from the
Turf Worthies.
35
distance to encourage the sulky Aristides, ran against
him on his pony, and left him lying on his face with
the force of the concussion. He picked himself up
just in time to hear that Job had beaten the Malton
crack, and subsequently informed Tom Dawson of his
accident, which, he stuck to it, had been caused by
" a great divil with a red coat on a grey meer," and
quite fought out the point with Tom, when he ex-
plained and apologized.
A perfect Ordiana might be made up colloquies and
of the scenes between him and the lord Correspondence
of Beeswing. They duly decided, after Wlth Mr' °rd'
accepting sixpence for the purpose from a facetious
friend at Ascot, to " let t'aud meer win first, and get
shaved afterwards." Again they were heard to take
counsel together about the state of Mr. Ord's betting
book. " I've taken fifteen sovereigns to two, Robert,
about the mare," said that gentleman, most meekly.
" Shall I hedge ?" " In course, nowt of the sort," was
the prompt answer. " Stan it out; be a man or a
moused Once when this comical pair were separated,
Bob suddenly felt constrained by a sense of duty to
communicate stable intelligence; and Will Beresford,
who used to tell the story in his best style, was re-
quested to act as his secretary. " Sir, the meeds weel,
I'm weel, we're all weel',' was the result of Bob's dicta-
tion, and he declined to furnish any other address than
" Ord, Esq., Northumberland." It must, however, be
explained that the original draft was much more
voluminous, and that Bob had thus remonstrated
when it was read over to him : " In course, thou knows,
Mr. Beresford, I didn't tell thee to put in ' In course'
all that number of times. Now, I'll gie it ye plain."
After this, he felt it more politic to commit his own
feelings to paper, and having left Tupgill with a cause
of anxiety upon him, he announced his return to con-
valescence at Liverpool, in these spousal words: "_Peg%
all's well; Robert Johnson!'
D 2
36 Scott and Sebright.
The Pilgrim's *n wasting days Bob was an
Rest, at Gos- eminent member of that School of
forth. Industry, which met during the New-
castle race-mornings in the Servants' Hall at Gosforth.
Mr. Brandling liked the custom kept up, and often a
muffled troop of Sim, Jacques, Scott, Harry Edwards,
Holmes, Garbutt, Cartwright, Lye, Oates, Gray, &c.,
would be found there about ten o'clock, sipping the
warm ale which the butler always had in readiness
for them after their three miles' walk from the Grand
Stand, and listening, if Bill Scott was not just i' the
vein, to Bob Johnson's comments on nags and men.
One morning Bob did not get on with his ale, and
Mr. Brandling asked him if there was anything else he
would like better. " I don't knave, Sir," he said, " but
I shoidd like a bottle of your champeagned It was
accordingly brought, and Bob considered that he put
his host up to such a good thing for the day while
they were drinking it, that he wound up with " Weel,
I think I shoidd like another away with me, Mr.
Brandling, to drink your health when I've won." His
companion protested in vain, but Mr. Brandling was
intensely amused, and sided so energetically with
Bob, that another was fetched, and duly stuffed into
his pocket, and away he went rejoicing, and verified
his Gosforth tip by beating Sim cleverly. Jacques
turned that Pilgrim's Rest to high account once, as he
was in it three times in four-and-twenty hours, and in
spite of the butler's request to consider his health,
took off about i/lbs. in the time, rather than lose his
mount. Two ounces of Epsom salts, a little tea with
gin in it, to make him break out freely, a dry biscuit,
and a poached egg with vinegar, were all that passed
his lips. He excelled as much in wasting as he did
in corner-cutting, and if fifteen or sixteen started on a
Doncaster morning to Rossington Bridge and back, he
and Sim and Jack Holmes would invariably be seen
leading up the old elm-avenue at the finish.
Turf Worthies.
37
Sam Darling, who ceased to ride in Sam Darlings
1844, was another of the hard wasters, Wastes,
and seemed to view it merely in the light of a con-
stitutional. His walks in the sweaters alone, for fully
twenty-five years, averaged some five hundred miles,
as he often went, whether he had weight to get off or
not. To the last he could manage eight two with hard
pinching on a 41b. saddle, to which he was peculiarly
partial. He quite knocked up John Day junior, who
was always a bit of a piper, in a strong twelve mile
walk from Newmarket to the Swan at Bottisham and
back. John's sweaters got slack, and he was so com-
pletely beat that he gave in near the toll-bar. Coach-
riding was Sam's aversion, as travelling in that style,
especially by night, has an immense tendency to put
on weight, although it " comes off like butter." He
perhaps never galloped from Manchester to York in
an afternoon, as Sim, Gray, and Garbutt once did ; but
in 1832, one of the best seasons he ever had, he rode
in 174 races, and won seventy-three, many of them
heats, in all parts of the country. One year after
riding in the St. Leger, he borrowed a clever hack
from a brother jockey, and catching the coach at Shef-
field, won twice at Shrewsbury the next day, and had
time to waste as well. His delight was to get a great
raking horse to make play with, and in the science of
going in front to stop or force a pace, there was no
more able practitioner.
The habit of rather closing one eye Mr. Horsiey's
gave him a very knowing look, and his story of Sam.
friend Horsley used to have a joke against him 011
this head. He had backed a horse with some stranger
on the course for two sovereigns, and was asked for
the money next day. " Dash me" said Sam, opening
both his eyes as if he was quite astonished at the re-
quest, "/ bet you two sovereigns /" " Oh I I beg your
pardon, Sir," said the man, quite submissively, " The
gentleman I bet it with had only one eye—I've made
38
Scott and Sebright.
some mistake," and he was moving off to renew the
search when Sam called him back and paid. Such
was poor Horsley's version of the story, but Sam always
said that he made it. Isaac is the horse with which
his name is linked, but Major Ormsby Gore's Hesperus,
which he also trained, was the luckiest for him. The
Gloucestershire Stakes, one of the earliest and most
important handicaps, made part and parcel of this
horse's thirty-four victories in his hands, and he was
beaten in the only race in which Sam did not ride
him. Four times over was Sam cheered as the winner
of the Chester Cup, and perhaps no one ever rode so
many different animals, all by the same horse, as he
did when Lord Exeter and Mr. Houldsworth were
making such a run upon Sultan.
Winning the St. ,0nlY one of the .three great ^CeS, tO
Leger on Rock- wit, the St. Leger with Rockingham, fell
ingham. to his lot, and he never took a mount with
less heart. He was engaged, as he considered, by
Mr. Watt to ride Belshazzar, and was about to dress
for him, when Dick Shepherd called him aside, and
said, " I want thee ; thee must ride in the white cap to-
day ; thedd wind Sam's countenance fell, as he had
just put a pony on Belshazzar, but there was no
remedy. " Theed win, I tell thee" resumed the re-
lentless Dick in a louder key; " coom and have a glass
of sherry for luck, and doarit look so sulky." Under
these grim blandishments, he very reluctantly gave up
the harlequin cap to Nicholson, and saddled the big
pheasant-looking son of Humphrey Clinker, whose
temper seemed none of the sweetest. The joints of
the narrow-looking Belshazzar fairly "snocked" as he
walked, and Tommy with his "spurs down-hill" as
usual, made all the running with him ; but long before
they reached the Red House, Sam found out that it
was the white cap's day, and got two hundred from
Mr. Watt for wearing it.
There were only a few years between John and
Turf Worthies.
39
Sam Day, and clever as the brothers were, john and Sam
they got regularly picked up in the morn- Day s First
ing of life, when they went off together Pony Race#
to the diversions at Lyndhurst. John had a wonder-
ful little brown pony, with which he expected to clear
out the whole lot of Hampshire yokels, and he was so
haunted with the fear of her being " got at," that he
persuaded Sam, nothing loth for a game of that sort,
to get into a crate in the stable, and watch her all the
forenoon. Sam's position was one of undoubted peril.
He was a tight fit to begin with, and the saminthe
truss of hay, which the cautious John had Crate-
piled over him, gradually became so diminished, that at
last he was within an ace of having the pitch-fork in his
spine. Those who have known him, whether on Men-
dicant at the Oaks post (where his mare was nearly
kicked out of time) or in later years as banker at the
Danebury Steward's Stand, will feel assured that he
bore up under the dispensation ; but when he did re-
join the outer world, it was only to face worse things.
The brothers proceeded to the course, but it got buzzed
about who they were, and how high they had tried
their pony, and no one cared to be beaten. However,
a country lad suddenly came forward in an apron and
high-lows, and very humbly trusted that John would
not take it amiss if " I run my old pony out of a cart
there against you." " Who are you, Sir, may I ask?"
said John, drawing himself up with native dignity;
"put down your ten pounds, and then Vll see about it."
The money came out so promptly that John rather
began to smell a rat, but there was no retreating.
John mounted, and the young man mounted with
his butcher's apron twisted round his arm, and when
the Danebury pony had been beaten some twenty
yards, John learnt that he had been matching her
against Gulliver, whose fame was in all the West
Countrie.
Sam had quite his share of winnings in the pony
4°
Scott and Sebright.
way, but he had the ill-luck to meet Macdonald on
Mat o' the Mint at Sherborne, and to find that Mat's
sister was pounds below his form. He also rode at
Barnet for the Duke of St. Albans, and then he had
six years with Cooper, who trained for the Duke of
York at Newmarket, while "Our Jim" was riding
exercise at Robson's. His brother John learnt his
rudiments from his father, " an out and out fellow," as
Grandfather Hampshire says to this day. Sitting in
Day- his low-crowned hat and brown leggings,
on his pony Black Jack, and with Lord Palmerston
at his side, watching Hougomont at work on Hough-
ton Downs, he was as completely the model of the
old John Bull trainer, as his son Sam was of the
elegant muscular jockey, when Lord Rivers placed his
statuette by the side of Tom Cribb's in his collection
of man-models. John was first apprenticed at New-
market with Smallman, who then trained the Prince
Regent's horses. His salary was only ten guineas
a-year, and two suits of livery ; but he steadily rose
the ranks, and when he did get into riding practice,
his hack's shoes had scarcely time to cool. With a
saddle round his waist, and huge saddle-bags flapping
at his side, he might be seen year after year on circuit,
and two summers in succession, with Tom Dilly to
cheer the way, he rode through the night from Exeter
to Southampton, so as to catch a mount at both the
meetings.
John Day as a ^ Perhaps he was greatest as a jockey in
jockey. hjs earlier days, when he had not so much
training and betting on his mind. Latterly he pre-
sumed very much on his own training, and liked to
" feel my own condition under me." He was all ac-
tivity, and very fond of a rush, and no one could
handle a hard-pulling or bad-mouthed horse more
ably. Touchstone, for instance, he held as if he was
in a vice, and unlike Sam Chifney, who abhorred
them, he gloried in curb-bridles. Still there was a
Turf Worthies.
4i
lack of ease and style about his seat, as well as his
son Sam's, whose patience and hands were undeniable.
Strange to say, old John never won a Derby, though
he made up for it by five Oaks. Some of his plea-
santest jockey recollections were his beating Priam
and Conolly on Lord Berners's Chapman, and the re-
cital of how he made play, and then stopped his horse
for a few strides, and let the crack reach his girths,
was given with a solemnity and emphasis befitting a
passage out of the Old Fathers. Defeating Buckle for
the Riddlesworth was another sunny memory, and so
was The Column, which he snatched out His Race on
of the fire on the Duke of Portland's Amphitrite.
Amphitrite. "His Grace" he would say, "gave me
his own orders ; ( John, you make play behind /' and I
did. Jim Robinson went on Mixbury ; and then he
suffered; and I came thirty yards from the post, and I
got first run, and he never quite reached me—that was
a great victory for me? Coldrenick was a rare miler,
but he did not deceive him at last, and there was
nothing for it but to " bear up for him," and try and
save some of the Derby money. John's severe system
of training hardly suited a horse of that stamp, as he
worked him instead of stopping him, and made matters
rather worse than better. Still he wrought wonders
in his time, and it would have made half-a-dozen
trainers' reputations to have brought Crucifix with
such a faulty sinew to the Oaks post, or get Grey
Momus through The Port on such doubtful fore-legs.
Never did any one lead a harder life His Waste
in and out of the saddle. He went to Walk<
bed quite early, and was never asleep after four in
summer, or letting any one else sleep. He took nearly
an hour to dress, always tying his white cravat with
the most scrupulous care. The horses were all done
up again by eight, and then after a slender breakfast
of tea and bread and butter, he went wasting for a
couple of hours. The wind might be high, and the
42
Scott and Sebright.
rain might pelt, but in that path of duty he defied the
elements. A mile walk, which Alfred Day often used,
was cut out for him round Sadler's Plantation, and
when the March winds whistled keenly round young
John's home at Longstock, he too deserted his daily
trudge to Tidcomb Bridge or " the Lily Roarer"
(Anglict White Lion) at Wherwell, and piped away
towards the afternoon in the same sheltered grove.
The umbrella, which never left Old John's grasp ex-
cept for a whip, was not forgotten in his waste walk;
and he held it aloft on a wet morning, and swung his
arms by turn. He generally began at nine stone ten,
but it came off very freely, and at his latest effort in
and Danebury '45 he rode 8st. lib. on Wilderness for
Discipline. ^ Ham Stakes in a 3lb. saddle. His
stable lads were kept in the highest state of discipline,
and after the two Sunday services, he never failed to
assemble them in the dinner-room, and read one of
Blair's Discourses. His whip hung up behind him,
and with a rush as electric as that on Amphitrite, he
had it down from its peg, and across the back of any
of the unlucky sleepers.
With his round hat, scarlet coat, and massive silver-
handled whip (which John Day rigidly preserves as
his staff of office) he made up admirably as a clerk of
the course at the Stockbridge Meeting. When he had
resigned that office and the stables to his son, he never
missed coming over to the meetings to shake his old
friends by the hand, and we remember how in 1854,
he solemnly indorsed John's demand that " my boy
William,"—who whipped in for the Four-Year-Old
Triennial on the peacocky Pharos, which he had just
purchased for twenty-seven guineas at Tattersall's—
should pass the post and " not disgrace the family by
Sir John Mills being distanced." Those were times
at stockbridge when Sir John Mills with his four bays
Races. an(j re(j_cuff postilions, was seen
driving up to Danebury for lunch before the races
Turf Worthies.
43
began, and then leading the way to the Stand. But
the cavalcade did not go straight back to Mottisfont
from the Stand, when Aitchbone and Alfred in the
" all blue" had won the Champagne Stakes. The
postilions nearly pulled down one of the Danebury
gate-posts in their zeal to come in at a trot. The old
baronet had another cigar and some more champagne,
and gave the gout notice to look out for itself; every
bit of blue ribbon that the ladies or the lasses could
rifle off cap, bonnet, or watch-case, was pressed into
the service for streamers and rosettes ; and the church
bells rung many a merry peal, as they did in after
years for Giantess and the Warwickshire Handicap,
when Mottisfont heard the news. Old John was in
the thick of it, as delighted as any of them, at the
success of the lord of the soil, but the meeting of '59
was the last both for him and Isaac Day.
" No relation, but the best of friends," Isaac Da
was always full of his kidding, and actively
proposing during that visit to ride his black cob
against a man on foot for a hundred yards. Good
cobs were a great point with him, but he was happiest
when he had a screw to doctor, and his very highest
ambition was to be talked about. " The Vicar" had
a remarkable time of it with his patron, before whom
he used to stand most reverentially, hat in hand, as if
he had been the Archbishop of Northleach. Still he
could not make out what game Isaac would be up to
next with him, when he once darkly observed on the
authority of a late Duke of Grafton, that " no jockey
was a jockey unless he could cross country," and that
as he (The Vicar) was no longer a young man, it was
high time that it should be seen by the world how he
could perform in that line. The apparition of all
John Osborne's lads, determined to eat out their en-
trance shilling, was not one whit less startling to the
office-bearers at a recent Middleham tea-fight, than
the next announcement that Sparta was in training
44
Scott and Sebright.
for the Liverpool, and that he was to ride her. How-
ever, to Aintree the trio went, and Isaac had the laugh
he yearned for, when he learnt from Tom Oliver,
through the medium of an image of which Swift and
Addison in their best form never dreamed, that the
face of " The Vicar" in the scramble at Becher's Brook
reminded him of a man " who had swallowed a
wagon-load of monkeys."
Uncle Sam in Like his friend Isaac, the celebrated
the Epsom "Uncle Sam" was always a "light
Paddock. 'arted' oss," and we may say, quite the
Sam Weller of the Turf. We hardly ever saw that
great steersman of Gustavus, Priam, Pyrrhus, and
Mendicant look perfectly grave, except when he was
lately leaning on his staff under the hawthorn canopy
in the Epsom Paddock, drawing shrewd mental paral-
lels between the past and the present, as twice the
eighteen walked round him, and finally delivering
judgment that one " was made at a pottery," and
another " at six." No man had such a string of
accidents, and plucked up under them so wonder-
fully. He broke nearly every limb he had but the
right arm, " skull and jaw included," riding for Dick
Goodison, and then one leg was broken twice, once
by jumping out of a carriage into a rut at Good-
wood, when an omnibus backed into it, and again by
slipping up in the Hall at Mr. Ben Way's. His spirits,
however, knew no decay; and music soothed his
Uncle Sam on soul. He would have hold of a tin-
the Pipe. pjpCj when he was on his back after the
first accident for nearly nine months, and played a
variety of pastoral and martial airs with a taste and
brilliancy which astonished the Singleton farmers.
They never just knew where they had him on that
pipe. At times, he would blow a hurricane, or go as
low as a Southern Hound. " He could," as he was
wont to observe, " kill a town wasting, and when he
was in his golden prime, which, barring his leg, never
Turf Worthies.
45
seems to leave him, he was not far wrong. For in-
stance, when he was at supper at Robson's, a letter
came from Lord Henry Fitzroy, that the Duke of
Grafton's mare Loo was to run next day in an A. F.
race, and that the money was on. Sam finished his
helping, and then mounted the weighing-machine,
which made him 8st. 4lbs. without his coat, but he
went at it like a Briton, and, with physic and a four-
teen-mile walk, got off the I2lbs., and won.
The announcement of a lecture by His Lecture on
him to the young jockeys and society Waste,
in general on " My Wasting Days," would have filled
Covent Garden thrice over. First he would have
treated of liquors on this wise : " Drink inflates you
just like a balloon ; champagne and light wines are all
rubbish; they only bloiv a fellow's roof off!' He
would then have tackled the eating part of the business
in very different terms : "No man can work if he can't
eat; you can't get light without eating; have a good
mutton-chop, that's my style; it gives a tone to the
stomach." We might then have had a pleasing digres-
sion to the days when he was an eleven-six farmer
near Reading, and took to the racing-saddle once
more, accompanied by a variety of Robson anecdotes ;
but most assuredly the curtain would have fallen to
this great moral tag, " Depend upon it a man doesn't
enjoy the comforts of life unless he knows the wasting
part of the business!'
The history of his residence in London His London
when he was at that business for the Practice,
second time, would have been one of his finest " bits."
He wanted to draw 8st. 7lbs., and he was two months
doing it. Sometimes he showed his ruddy, streaming
face among the quiet dwellers at Wimbledon, and
departed like a flash, before they could make out his
mission, leaving the very wildest surmises in his track.
Again, he would be found walking in his woollen
attire on Greenwich Hill during Easter, and not only
46
Scott and Sebright.
getting scratched himself, but investing a penny on
the spot, running after a large field of girls (who called
him " The Mysterious Stranger,") and doing immense
execution with his scratcher in return. At all events
it was fine fun, and he was not only "fit to fight a
ivindmill after itf but to win the Derby and the
Oaks as well.
Early Tuition of J°hn and Bil1 Scott began Wel1 hY
John and Bill being born at Chippenham, near New-
Scott market, but they were not in the same
stable, from the time they left their father, who be-
came the landlord of The Ship at Oxford, till they
met in 1814 at Croft's of Middleham. Mr. Scott,
sen., who had ridden for Sir Sitwell Sitweli when
he had Clinker and Gooseander (the dam of Sailor
and Shoveller) in his stable, destined them both for
the saddle, and placed John at Bourton under
Stevens, and Will at Sadler's of Allworth. Boyce
and Tiny Edwards gave them respectively " a New-
market polish," and John had three-quarters of a
year with Franks at Middleham, before he joined
Croft, and looked after Sir William Maxwell's grey
cup horse, Viscount. Starting for himself he had a few
months at Hambleton, where he trained No Go, and
when the great match was made between Filho da
Filho da Puta's Puta and Sir Joshua, he was requested
Match. by Croft, whose health was very delicate,
to undertake the responsible charge of the crack of
the North on his Newmarket journey. The train-
ing of this fine-tempered, leggy, and near-sighted
colt was a very anxious task, and John had not
much credit out of it after all. True to the great
code of his life, he wanted to run him rather above
himself; but when Croft came, he thought he had
not done work enough. The Brothers Chifney, who
had backed him, and were made Friends in Council,
sided with the elder, so he was sent along again, and
as John says with a sigh to this day, " That cooked
Turf Worthies.
47
him." John's eye for condition is of a very Looking over the
universal kind, and no one made a more ^queers' Lot.
accurate calculation of the time it would require to
get them "fit," when the supposed "young Wackford
Squeers" and a batch of pupils, rode down with him
on the coach from London to Yorkshire.
The fame of the match brought shoals of visitors
to Filho da Puta's stable, and one of them walked in
and made himself so much at home, that the young
trainer was quite taken aback, and supposed that he
must be a friend of the Maxwell family. However,
when the horse was sheeted up again, it struck him that
he had been a little too good-natured, The Sporting
and he ventured to ask the stranger if Bagman,
he would favour him with his name. " My name" he
said, " with all pleasure—Mr. Hogg from town,—in
the silk way," and with a most magnificent bow and
strut he departed. The horse lost some lengths at
starting by nearly going on to his head, and Goodis-
son drove him after that; but the match was the
making of John Scott, and it ended in Mr. Houlds-
worth's buying Filho for 3000 guineas, and taking the
young trainer with him to Mansfield. It is worthy of
note that on the great match afternoon, Sam Darling,
who wore the Houldsworth colours so long and well
in Beresford's day, made his Heath debut on one of
Mr. West's horses.
Bill Scott WOn the Doncaster and the Performances
Richmond Cups on Filho, after running of Filho-
clean out of the course in the latter race. As a sire
Filho paid well for a time, and Sherwood, the second
for the St. Leger, and Miller of Mansfield, were
his principal legacies to the green and gold. His St.
Leger was a very remarkable one, from the fact that
at the close of the betting, the four first horses were
exactly placed. The weight of money which Filho
and Dinmont carried was enormous, as Croft had
never been more confident, and hence Sir William
48
Scott and Sebright.
Maxwell might well thrust his stick for a safety-valve
to his feelings, at night, through all the pier-glasses at
the Rein Deer, and long in his rapture for more. The
Dispute about name of his horse was rather a puzzler to
his Name, hardware youths, who had a vague
notion that it was Fill the Pewter, and it led to a little
difficulty between two of them, who had seen the
race from a carriage-wheel. " Noo Jack, what wilt
have for a croon?" said one; and "Hang it, man,
I'll have Filler I was the reply. " Witter?" said his
mate. " Dang it, then, I'll have Pewterand anon
when the winner's name was shouted, there came such
an angry skirmish of " I'se won ; Filler's won. Dang
it, thoo's a le'er; Pewter's won, &c.," succeeded by
a battle royal, that the police had to interfere and
explain.
John's Riding. . J°h" had Saddle
before he settled at Mansfield, and as he
jocularly used to say, " Bill turned me out of training."
His first win was the Freemen's Plate, four mile heats,
at 4st. 4lbs. over the Oxford Port Meadows. Wasting
never suited him, and after getting from ten stone to
7st. 7lbs. in a very short time, to ride for a Seventy
Pound Plate at Lancaster, which he lost by a neck,
and half killing himself by the effort, he was glad to
let it alone. His last appearance was in a private
trial of eleven cocktails at Malton, in which he rode
Rufus, but his Brother Bill and Sim ran him out at
the last turn, and " ruined my prospects entirely."
Life on Sher- With the exception of a few bL Pratt's
wood Forest, leather-platers, not a horse had as yet
been trained on Sherwood Forest, when John went
into residence there, and began operations with a
stable at the top of the Windmill Hill. The gallops
were laid out on the Forest land, and extended nearly
up to Sherwood Hall, and Filho and the young stock
stood at Farnfield. Although Cataline and Magistrate
by Camillus, a perfect beauty of a horse and bought
Tttrf Worthies.
49
for 500/. from Major Bower of Welham, were the only
other good things through his hands, John had a
pleasant enough time of it. Mr. Houldsworth scarcely
knew his horses by sight, and to the end of his life, if
he took a nomination, he invariably said, " I don't
know what I have for it; put down my name ; and I'll
write to my man'.' The Rufford Hunt in " Black
Jack's " day had few more constant attendants than
John in his drab-breeches and cherry-coloured tops ;
and Bill, who was then first jockey to Mr. Powlett,
and also rode for Mr. Houldsworth, was nearly as
well known with them during the season, as he was in
after-years with Sir Tatton's. J ohn J ones (and latterly
Sharpe) was huntsman, and Jem Davis (father to the
present Jack) and "Johnny Walker of Wynnstay,"
whipped in to him. It was a merry sort of life " under
the greenwood tree" for the young trainer, as the
master and the Duke of Portland gave him full liberty
of the Forest. Railways were then undreamt of in
those sylvan solitudes, and no telegraph-posts in black,
white, and green array near Wellow Wood suggested
names for foxhounds. He could have Forest Privi-
coursed for twenty miles, and he killed leses-
some ninety-three hares in one season, a feat which
pleased him nearly as much as beating thirty dogs in
a Scurry Stakes, with his Glaucus, after he had been
busy among the scuts all day.
If he had just missed one St. Leger Birth of
for Mr. Houldsworth with Sherwood, he Matilda,
found " the missing link " to victory during the short
time which he spent at Mansfield, between leaving
that gentleman's service and entering on Mr. Petre's.
At his advice, old Juliana had come to Magistrate,
and was standing at the stable of a lawyer near the
Swan Inn. About four o'clock on May morning, a
lad came running to his lodgings with the news that
she had foaled, and that they thought it was a colt.
John thought so too, at first, from its excessive acti-
E
5°
Scott and Sebright.
vity, although in size it looked " like a buck rabbit,
with a black list stripe down its back." Its arrival
created a very great sensation even at that early hour,
and Mrs. Stirrup, the landlady of The Swan, and own
sister to the celebrated George Clark of Barnby Moor,
ran out to see it, in her shift. In spite of his disappoint-
ment, John's gallantry did not wax cold, when he found
that she had come to do honour to one of her own
sex, and his offer to " stand you a neiv quarter piece,
Mam, if this Comus filly wins the Leger," was quickly
made and accepted. The word was lightly spoken,
but the little bay, which was soon skipping everywhere
about the box, ripened into " Matilda,"—the first of
Mr. Petre's memorable St. Leger trio, and the first of
the Whitewall fifteen—and the silk was not forgotten.
She was in fact the load-star of John's fortunes,
and refusing a very tempting offer from Sir Thomas
Mostyn to go to Holywell, he cast in his lot with Mr.
Mr. Petre's Petre at Whitewall (whose twenty-four
Career. stalls are now trebled), with Veluti, Ivan-
hoff, and a few more cast-offs, in the Martinmas of
'24. A hundred sovereign match over the St. Leger
course that year with Tramper, was the first Scott
victory of " the pink and black," and it only missed a
450 Sovereign Stake with Saladin, a half-brother to
Matilda, by half-a-head. It was somewhat remarkable
that in this race John should beat his old master, and
that Mr. Petre should be worsted by a mare of Mr.
Lambton's, whose parties, equipages, and racing stud
had stirred up his keenest emulation. His Whitewall
career was as short as it was merry. He was at the
same time master of the Badsworth, with Jack
Richards from Sir Bellingham Graham as his hunts-
man, and there " was a sound of revelry by night " as
well as day, at Stapleton Park. Still, when all had
crumbled in his hand, he had at least something to
boast of He had led back a St. Leger winner to
scale, who started at 200 to 1 ; he had scored three
Turf Worthies.
5i
St. Leger victories in succession, and in this respect
has never known his master, save in Lord Archibald
Hamilton. His horses had beaten Voltaire, Sir Her-
cules, Velocipede, Zinganee, Lottery, and Laurel; and
he had sold a six-year-old, good enough even in his
decline to give i^lbs. for his two years, and collar the
great Camarine for the Ascot Cup. Well may John
Scott have a tender recollection of his first Whitewall
master, and say in our hearing to one who had so
often shared his triumphs, " If we were among them,
Sim, with another Mr. Petre, we should not iake a deal
of harm"
To write of Bill Scott is to master the Bill Scott's
inner history of four Derbies, nine St. Jockeyship.
Legers, and as many Champagne Stakes, three Oaks,
and a succession of the best stakes of the North and
South for thirty years, until we recall him wending his
way back to scale in his yellow and blue cap for the
last time, on Snowball, at York. Still there is some-
thing in Tommy Nicholson's facetious boast that he
(Tommy) was best man over Doncaster; as in Jack
Spigot's year, he had a mount in fourteen out of the
twenty-one races, and only lost once. Two years
before that, Bill's and Tommy's claim to have ridden
the St. Leger winner was in abeyance for sixteen
days, and then the Jockey Club decided that the first
start was valid, and that Tommy's Antonio win must
stand. If Bill lost the St. Leger on Sherwood, it gave
him an opinion of Barefoot which he turned to good
account, when that Tramp chestnut ran for the Oat-
lands and carried seven hundred of his money. He
often declared, " It was the first good money I ever
won. I knew from the Leger what a game beggar lie
was." Bill perhaps a little over-did it in that race by
making such a strong pace with Sherwood, but his
Doncaster recipe to the last was to make severe run-
ning to the top of the hill. " If yoti cant get a pull
and go on again" he was wont to say, "you'll never
E 2
52
Scott and Sebright.
win ; whafs the nse of condition if yon doii t use it ?"
No one ever knew him lose a race if he once had the
best of it, and if thirty were in it, he could tell with
His Riding of one of his Parthian glances, exactly what
Attiia. every one of them was doing. His brother
always considers that his riding of Satirist in the St.
Leger, and of Mundig in the Derby were the finest
specimens of his style, which as far as daring and
decision went, has perhaps never been matched. He
was out of humour with Col. Anson for starting Attiia,
with 9lbs. extra, and the St. Leger in view, and hence
he cut the colt up sadly in the Drawing Room Stakes,
when Robinson on Envoy had him as dead as a stone.
In the St. Leger again he went off with him at score,
and enabled Heseltine on Eboracum before they got
to the Red House triumphantly to carry out his threat,
—"I'll run at Bill Scott as long as my horse can wag
a leg."
His Amuse- Bill was wonderfully fond of chaffing
merns. and dropped it into him rather
heavily one day at "the Squire's;" but still his
pleasantry was very neat, when he chose. " Well, my
Lord" was his salute to Lord Maidstone, when the (i)
was entered against the "gorge de pigeon" jacket, in
Mr. Clark's book, after the Molecomb, and his lordship
met him coming back to scale on The Caster, who had
run half way up the hill. " We've set the caster the first
timel' In his hunters he was very choice, and the
likeness between him and Ben Morgan, on horseback,
has always been so striking that the East Riding
men often say, that they seem to have him still
amongst them, at Firby Wood side. For one grey
horse, Ainderby, he was bid 450 guineas, and he
rode the hollow-backed Heslington, of Northumber-
land Plate fame, with Sir Tatton's, for two or three
seasons after he had steeple-chased him, but he never
made much out.
In other respects he was not a keen sportsman.
Turf Worthies.
53
He liked to have his greyhound, Major, at his heels,
but did not care to run him much. Sometimes he
fished in the Ouse, and if the fish did not rise properly,
away would go rod and creel into the water; and
when, after frightening a few rooks, he eventually
knocked himself down with his gun, he gave it away
to Isaac Blades. He was always in high spirits when
he got to Harrogate, and in his latest visit to Harro-
visit, the Tewit waters seemed quite to sate-
set him up. Markwell was with him as aide-de-camp,
and one day, at Bill's suggestion, the pair went to
Brimham Rocks, not only in a donkey carriage,
but in real state, with two more donkey boys as out-
riders.
William Oates and his father looked Training of his
after his colt Sir Tatton Sykes for him, CoitSirTatton
but he was very seldom "up" himself Sykes-
during his preparation. The colt took plenty of work,
and Driffield had the schooling of him over a mile-and-
a-half round Wise's Farm. They had only one spin
together on Langton Wold, when his pupil gave him
four stone easily. Old George Oates rode the young
one in the trial, and despite his recollections of Lottery,
he declared that he had never been on anything like
him, and that he never half got him out. Still he was
far riper for the St. Leger than he was on the Derby
day; and William Oates was so anxious, that he went
to the course all dressed to ride him, in case his owner,
who had wasted very severely, should feel unfit at the
last moment. How such a sluggish horse got through
his task was a wonder to every one; as half-way
up the distance Bill fairly dropped forward on to
his neck, from exhaustion, and couldn't drive him at
all.
Many a rich story has fallen from the The Whitewaii
lips of " The Wizard " in that little snug- Snuggery,
gery on the left, when he goes back to the good old
days, and dashes off in one pregnant sentence, the
54
Scott and Sebright.
form of each stable favourite, till we can almost see
Bill, and Frank, and Nat, in the saddle once more,
and silently filing before us. What merry, and yet
what anxious groups have mustered there, round the
trio of spirit decanters, with their varied pace and
colour emblems of horse and game cock—white pile
and grey, dun and chestnut, brown-red, and bay!
Colonel Anson knew that council chamber well, and
it was there that many a crafty Derby attack was
planned ; and " all white," " red and blue," 'or " all
black" was selected to silence the " Kentish fire," or
turn the Danebury flank. Sim, Jack Holmes, and
Nelson would all be on duty; and if it was a great
trial, Bill would start from his house at York after
nightfall, to put the double on the touts, who stood,
with a perseverance hardly natural to man, watching
his every movement about Epsom-tide. No one wished
for the dawn, when he had come with an ever-fresh
stock of anecdotes and ethics, enough to set up half-a-
dozen wits in trade.
Pictures of the As the light flashes back on the walls,
Cracks. we read, from Herring's hand, the silent
canvas record of those days. Hornsea of the wall eye,
Don John, and Industry take up the Bretby tale;
Mundig, the first " member for Streatlam" is there to
catch the eye and jog the memory of many a speaker,
and so is Cotherstone, whose merits, to the Colonel's
utter astonishment, were enforced in Bill's most em-
phatic speech, when the party had come back from
Langton Wold on that morning which sealed Gaper's
doom. There, too, among the family pictures of the
little girl in the red cloak on the spotted donkey, are
the late General Norclifle, the owner of the Wold, and
Sir Tatton and his trusty henchman, Tom Carter, as
they appeared when the scarlets were hung on the
nail, and the cubs at play, with no Proctor or Cruiser
to rally them. Harry Hall and Ferneley also bear their
part among the " Cracks of the Turf." Holmes
Turf Worthies.
55
pulling Maroon double for the St. Leger, is the first
painting on the left; and if poor Jack ever mourned
over his riding orders of that day, within earshot of
Sim, he was pretty sure to be reminded that his reso-
lution had not always been so rigid, and that neither his
memory nor all the shouting at his girths could prevail
upon him, at Richmond, to pull Delphine to one side,
and let Sim win the stable money on Matilda. Touch-
stone has his In Memoriam in the Doncaster Cup, in
which Hornsea separated him and his old foe General
Chasse once more. Attila, Canezou, " a good mare,
but not a smasher," Fazzoletto, little Daniel, The West,
and Songstress tell the story of their years : and there,
too, in a pleasant tree and water group, are Frailty
of Filho's blood, the dam of Cyprian, and Mrs.
Bang-up, with Morgan Rattler by Velocipede at her
foot.
The elegant little Matilda, defying the The Whitewaii
rush of Sam and the mighty stride of Dining-room.
Mameluke, has her place in the dining-room, with
Charles and Euclid fighting out their dead-heat.
Velocipede holds the post of honour over the side-
board, flanked by Cotherstone and Princess, the son
and daughter of the great Ascot Cup rivals, and under
their shadow, among Durham, Pontefract, and Malton
Cups, the steel-armed shank bones of Tramp know no
rest from man, when a round or silver-edge of beef is
between them. The Petre chestnut days live again in
Rowton and The Colonel; and Cyprian, of the vicious
eye and ear, bears testimony to that punishing finish,
in which she taught the Houldsworth stable that it
was not their destiny to win the Oaks. Frank and
John himself are on guard over the fire-place, and
there, too, is the Roland which carried the flying
huntress, who introduced the first three-pommel
saddle into Leicestershire, and made Captain White's
sing out as she topped her first fence, "Look to
yourself, Hey cock, or you'll be cut down by a woman!"
Scott and Sebright.
The Guests at What a multifarious miscellany of men
Whitewaii. have sat at that bountiful board !—peers,
baronets, barons, and Queen's counsel learned in the
law ; foreigners, who have reverently journeyed to
it and Sir Tatton's, within a week of landing, as if
to a shrine; squires, farmers, jockeys, trainers, and
authors,
" Pricking a Cockney ear,"
and jealously treasuring up each waif and stray for
the time, when all Yorkshire is in its delicious Sep-
tember simmer, and the talk in every harvest field, and
at every ram-letting, is of what John Scott will run
Baron Alder- for the Leger, and when he intends to
son's Visit, fry Baron Alderson only wrote half his
recollections of his visit. He might have told how he
questioned Frank, on the whole art of riding ; how he
wondered not so much at the condition of the horses,
as where the supply of boys came from, and the solu-
tion of the difficulty ; how he noted down, at Jim
Perren's dictation, some of their most remarkable
titles, " Spider," " Cudjoe," " Frog," " Weasel,"
" Squeaky," &c., and how, when the contents of
Jacob's cock-bag were duly unfolded, nothing but the
sternest Whitewaii head-shake checked Frank's itching
fingers from having a regular carpet set-to.
Old Cvprian And so we draw near Cyprian's barn,
and turn aside to see that ancient bag of
bones, with nigh eight-and-twenty summers on her
head, and enough malice to make a short run, and a
finish of every visitor in turn. Her death-warrant
had been duly signed ; and when John Scott next
took his way to visit Isaac Walker and " the infants"
at Streatlam Castle, the barn knew her no more ; but
a couple of thousand guinea and three five-hundred
guinea foals, with Meteora to head them, are placed
to her credit, with Weatherby. Then passing by
I'Anson's paddock, where Queen Mary and her
Tttrf Worthies.
57
daughter Blink Bonny raise their white faces at
our approach, we are through the wicket gate on to
the Wolds.
Every one seems out that morning, scene on Lang-
Cyprian's old friend Johnny Gray, who ton Wolds,
could ride six stone seven when he was fifty, is there
at seventy-odd, and blazing away upon Willie Wright.
John Scott spies him forthwith, and doesn't forget to
tell of Bill's frisk at Knutsford races, when he slept in
the same room with Johnny and Ben Smith. Little
Baker with the big straw hat, " the tall man from
Newcastle," and eight or ten others, are on duty along
the outposts, gathering " such information as no other
gentleman possibly can have," from their tan gallop
survey. Balnamoon is there, and they little think, as
a despised brown ball of a filly bounds along by
herself, that she is duly fated to lower the pride of the
great Kettledrum. Cape Flyaway, as true a tryer as
Dilkoosh or Backbiter, leads Sweetsauce, who, in his
white quarter piece, and with Jack Charlton up, comes
striding along as if the Goodwood Cup field were at
his heels once more. The next are a lot of Barbatuses,
and the Miss Whip colt fresh from a Knavesmire
Stakes victory at York ; and The Wizard, with Bob
Cliffe still true to him, in sunshine or in shade, comes
up, nearly pulling double over his schoolmaster, the
ever bold Benbow.
Then the green furze at the distance is The School_
suddenly alive with sterns, and the word master at Home
is passed :—" There are Morgan and the onwoidton
hounds" coming over the Wold from
Birdsall. Ben draws them up on a little knoll, and
John Scott gets out of his phaeton, to give them
greeting, and beckons Jim Perren to bring up the
horses, and " let them walk near us in a ring." The
Mallon Messenger, big with prophecy, and on his
white steed of fate, keeps, like ourselves, to the scarlets,
while Jack Charlton with his grey's rein on his arm,
58 Scott and Sebright.
and Ashmall on I'Anson's rare eleven-season hunter,
Kettle, half-sister to Fisherman, join the morning
consultation. " Dorit take off too muck at once, Jim,
from The Drone'.' "Now you may go home with
Szveetsauce, you've done enough for this morning
" Wcdk Longrange, and bring him steadily along a
mile ; mind keep your hands down, Ginger !" " Jack,
just get up again, and lead him /" float to us occa-
sionally, as John, with his adjutant, scans each of the
troop.
Now, the council is over, and he turns once more to
Arrival of ^ie hounds. He has, of course, his old
"Ben" and the fling at Ben, for assuring him that his
Hounds. C0Untry was " like the Grampians, and
even The West couldn't live with them." Then Bill
is in his mind once more, and he tells us of the run
from Millington Wood, when " he rode a Whalebone
horse, and I was only nine stone." Gameboy and
Warlock lie blinking lazily, and half-dreaming, it may
be, of the greatest day of the next season, from
Garrowby to Warter; or of the still more memorable
Christmas Eve of '6i, over three rivers and nineteen
parishes. There, too, are Dexter and Dimity, of the
John Scott's Grove Duster sort, " and not a bad sort
Commentaries, either," as John Scott observes. Again,
he picks out Woodman, " one of the Proctor sort in
the picture for a thousand and " Hang it, he's a
slasher," is his terse commentary, as Rochester, with
his stern up, walks proudly past him. Now Perren
has a word, and asks about a Grove Rector, in a spirit
of anxious inquiry, which makes his captain predict
that "Jim will be a great kennel huntsman yet."
Then the scarlets and the " spotted darlings" are lost
among the distant furzes, and once more the White-
wall thirty-nine, with Benbow still in command, file
homeward through the Rifleman Dell, and the morn-
iiig's work is over.
Robson delighted to see jockeys do their travel-
Turf Worthies.
59
ling on horseback, and he was once known Pavis and
to say to a very eminent one, " Now, I Conoiiy.
saw you come in a chaise; you don't ride forme all this
week ." Conolly and Pavis were great epicures in this
way, and liked to go about with their gigs and ser-
vants. On one occasion they passed Darling and
Chappie riding into Abingdon, with their saddle-bags
at their sides and their light saddles round their
waists. When they again met on their arrival at The
Lamb, Pavis told them that they were " a disgrace to
go about with their pots," but quiet Jemmy only
clapped his hand on his saddle-bags, and retorted,
" I'll lay there's been more in these pots than there ever
will be in all your fine gigs!' Sam got his best rise
out of Pavis, at Wells, whither the natty one had gone
down for Mazeppa in the Mendip Stakes. Isaac Day>s De_
At the eleventh hour, Isaac Day deter- 'scent with
mined to start Little Boy Blue, and
brought Sam to ride him. Pavis had
been elected king of the revels at the inn, and was
bouncing most valiantly of what he was going to do
next day, when the fatal forms of Sam and Isaac
loomed in the door-way. Little Arthur nearly dropped
under the table at the sight, and years after Isaac
would go solemnly through the scene, with increasing
humour at each performance. Chappie's yChapple.
great country successes were with Spectre,
and his forte was waiting with a quiet horse, and
taking a beautiful measure. Somehow or other, the
country knew his value better than they did at head-
quarters, and this he felt so keenly, that it somewhat
hardened and crisped his manner. They were ready
enough to offer him engagements after he won the
Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire, and it was no very
cynical asperity in him to decline them.
It was Nat's misfortune to have out- Aw .a vn
lived his fame, and the baseless objec- 01 °n
tions which were taken to his mode of riding Toxophi-
6o
Scott and Sebright.
lite (who was "never half a good horse"), for the
Derby, made it the fashion to call him "old Nat," and
to say that he was nervous. For our own part, we
believe that the public (who had always praised his
riding most extravagantly up to that point) merely
followed suit, and that his brother-jockeys are right in
saying that he was as good as ever to the last. At no
period of his career had he been quite a first-class
man ; but still a most efficient rider, a respectful
servant, and as honest as the day. He had been
creeping well up for four or five seasons ; but the
death of Pavis in 1839, at a time when he could ride
6st. iolbs. cleverly, and there were no "Tinies" or
" Bantams," gave him an opening which he knew well
how to use. He was the first Newmarket jockey that
ever regularly got a footing at the Northern meetings;
and Garbutt, whose practice had all but departed from
him, did not much like this innovation. On one
occasion, Jem made the running very good in a race
at Newton, and turning round in his rough way, he
contemptuously bellowed out to him as they returned
to the scale, " There, Mr. Nezvmarket, what do you
think of that to a pace ?"
Weight always favoured him, as he was barely 1 libs,
heavier at fifty than he was at twenty-nine. His great
knack was his quickness at a T.Y.C. post ; and, al-
though he just kept within the line and avoided being
fined, he often put the starter's temper sadly to the
test by his determination if possible to anticipate the
"Go along." We should call him rather a good jockey
by profession, than a great horseman by intuition.
He seldom did anything brilliant, but his good head
and fine patience served him, and he rarely made a
mistake as regards measure in the last few strides. A
tremendous finish, when a horse had to be ridden
home from below the distance, was not his forte; and
it put him all abroad if he had to make running. His
thighs were so short that he hadn't sufficient purchase
Turf Worthies.
from the knee to use a sluggish horse, and if he had a
free goer he was a little apt to overdo it. In his annus
mirabilis 1848, he scored 104 victories ; but it was
generally believed that he made most in Orlando's
year, and entered about 5000/. to the credit side of
his riding book in fees and presents alone. His ill-
ness was very painful and wearing. As the spring
came on, he seemed to recover a little, and got out,
we believe, a few times, in a carriage ; but when he
went up to London to have the best advice during the
July meeting, he learnt that there was no hope for
him, and quietly returned to Newmarket to die.
Strange to say, it was one of his last requests that he
should not be buried in the cemetery at the entrance of
the Heath.
He was not very sociable in his temper, _b Marson
or popular with his brother-jockeys, and
between him and poor Job Marson there was always
a sort of secret feud, and nothing delighted the latter
so much as to beat him in a finish. Job was best on
a very free goer, as he could hold anything, and pre-
ferred it to having to ride them all the way. There
was less of the Chifney style about him than Frank,
as he was never fond of lying too much away, and
then trusting so implicitly to the creeping business,
which once put Frank quite wrong on Nunnykirk
at York. According to his own notions, the A.F.
match on Colleen Bawn when he beat Frank _ on
Leopard in the Newmarket Craven of 1847, and his
Humdrum victory over the same jockey and Wolfdog
for the Queen's Plate the same spring, after a most
terrific finish from the Plantation, were about the best
things Job ever did ; and the men were worthy of each
other. His anxiety to pull off a great race for Mr.
Bouverie and his uncle, after their Derby disappoint-
ment, rather upset his nerve in the Chester Cup, and
he always believed that he had won his race with War
Eagle at the Castle Pole, and that if he had waited
62
Scott and Sebright.
longer under that crushing weight, he might have
landed their money.
It was somewhat singular that both Job and Frank
should have been each specially known during their
last season, in connexion with the horse they loved
best of all. Job made his last great finish for the
Doncaster Cup on Fandango, and Frank's sun set
Frank Butler's gloriously in "The West." The first con-
Surprise with nexion of the latter couple was rather
The West. an ocj^ one Frank had been on him at
Whitewall, but never expected that he was coming
for the Criterion. His astonishment was unbounded
when he first learnt the news from John Scott's lips at
the Newmarket Station. " What T said he, "youdorit
mean to say you've brought the big bay horse with you ;
we've tried a rare good un, and I've backed him for a devil
of a lot of money /" " I'm very sorry for it," replied
John, "but we've had Sim and Jack up, and we like him,
and Mr. Bowes has backed him for the Derby,—the
money's all on—and you're to stand the odds to fifty."
There was no help for it, and so Frank went and told his
brother that Rogers would have to take the Sitting-
bourne mount. He strictly obeyed his orders to
" ride him tenderly up the hill, for fear he flounders in
the dirt," but the horse could not move in it, and
Speed the Plough dropped on to him at the finish.
Colloquy with Frank's opinion of " the big bay horse"
Isaac Walker underwent a great change after the Glas-
on the Moors. gQW Stakes, and he thought all the winter
of what he and " my hack" were to do. He had
liked what he had seen of the colt in the pre-
vious summer, though he never expected him to be
got fit that year. In the August of Daniel's year,
when he was riding back with Isaac Walker from the
Hunderthwaite Moors to Streatlam, he thus broke 6ut,
" Isaac, I've been thinking how wonderful it would be
if we should win the Derby next year for Mr. Bowes.
I've got a rough customer for them ; I've won with a
Turf Worthies.
63
little one this-year, and I shouldn't be surprised if I
pull through with a big un next." He came down to
Durham for the grouse-shooting both years, but there
was a great change in him in '53. No day was too
long for him in Daniel's year, but the next August he
could not follow his game. He wanted constant flask
refreshers, and he was glad to sit down on the heather
with the daily paper, and talk about what they had
been doing at Egham. His fund of anecdote and
chaff, which he delivered in a thick, husky voice, and
with a visage as grave as a mustard-pot, seemed to
have failed him, and there was no "Fine Old English
Gentleman," or " Return of the Admiral" at night.
Isaac still sadly remembers how they visited Tom
Flint at Raby, and how out of that party of six he
alone remains.
Frank never exactly alluded to his The Old Victory
growing weakness ; but it was in these Jacket,
pleasant summeg days that he promised Isaac to give
him his Bowes jacket, whenever he died. " All the
boys," as he used to say when he spoke of the bequest,
" when they don't go for the stuff, they put 011 the flash
jacket, but I always put on the old Victory." Next
month when he came out of the weighing-house after
the St. Leger, and gravely asked Isaac if he had
ridden him quite to orders, he slapped his hand on his
jacket breast, and repeated the promise: " You' 11 never
breed another West," he added, " / never knew zvhat he
was, I only touched him with the spur once in the Derby,
and I was glad to get him stopped." It was to Hobby
Horse that he could positively give 6st. in a rough
gallop, and strangely enough, it was on that wretch
that Frank weighed in for the last time on the
Houghton Saturday of '53. Sore as the trial was, he
kept at 8st. /lbs. till this last afternoon^ and won two
matches, the second of them on Ariosto against his
old opponent Nat.
Acrobat had been his Derby delight ever since he
64 Scott and Sebright.
Last Days of got off him after the Doncaster Two-
Frank. Year-Old Stakes, with a prophecy in his
mouth, and Dervish was his abhorrence ; but he never
saw them put together with Boiardo, at three Two
years old. He was at the Ditch Stables on the
Thousand day, just about a stone over weight, and
led Sim on Boiardo their canter ; and he took his
saddle down to Goodwood that July in the hope of
meeting The West once more, and getting upon him
at exercise. His first master, Colonel Anson, lingered
before going to India just to see The West win at
Doncaster, and he had arranged to meet John Scott
when it was over, near the Rubbing House, that they
might say good-bye. Both had, however, a melan-
choly consciousness that they should never see each
other again, and when John did not trust himself to
come, the other knew " the reason why," and with the
kindest of farewell letters they parted. Jockey and
master died almost together, the one in his tent at
Poonah, on Ellington's Derby day ; and when we pass
by that low St. Margaret's church wall, and glance
over the "P. C. i842"*stone of little Conolly, and the
grave of cheery Will Beresford beside him, towards
the railings in the Nunnery corner, we may well think
of the glorious time of Whitewall, and Frank in the
" all white," and trust that, like his old master, he
sleeps well.
Mr. Theobald, Mr. Theobald, of Stockwell, was one
of Stockweii. 0f fhg most remarkable of the Southern
patriarchs. The old gentleman swore by Whalelxme,
Whisker, and Orville; and Camel of the Whalebone
and Selim blood, whom he bought from Lord Egre-
mont, held the undisputed premiership of his stud.
Camel This horse was as good as an 800/.
annuityfor some seasons after Touchstone
had brought him out, and Caravan, Wapiti, and
Callisto carried on the game. When the Americans
arrived and bid Mr. Theobald 5000 guineas, he " gave
Turf Worthies.
65
a verdict without turning round in the box." In fact,
he did not even allow Lowry time to strip the brown
before he refused the offer. The horse was then rising
seventeen, and he lived for six seasons more. Nothing
delighted the old man more than to*stroll into the
paddock, with General Wemyss and Bransby Cooper,
to visit my " bit of Whalebone," and his fairy genius
the white rabbit. Mr. Cooper used in- Mr Bransby
variably to visit Stockwell on a Sunday, Cooper s opinion
and Camel was always stripped as a ofhim-
relish before dinner. The great surgeon always
maintained that he never looked over a more powerful
piece of anatomy. His gaskins were enormous, and
his leverage and mettle so great, that when Lowry
lunged him, he could leap mid air almost to the last,
to the full extent of a cavegon-rein. Mr. Theobald
used to tell how Banter came there from Moor Park
in the shape of a low lengthy mare of fifteen-two,
but she was on a visit to Peter Lely when her first
fruits appeared in the frail-looking foal Touchstone.
Camel, Smolensko, and the little thir- other Sires at
teen-hand racing pony Mat-o'-the-Mint stockwell.
were buried in that paddock along with Laurel,
Cydnus, Norfolk Phenomenon, and the rest, but there
were no tablets. " That would have touched the old
gentleman up," and there was not even a tree to mark
them. He had another bit of Whalebone in the grey
Exquisite, the second to Frederick in the Derby, and
the subject of Old Forth's bet about placing two ; but
he served only a few hack mares, and that was also
the line, though in a more eminent degree, of the
short, thickset Caccia Piatti by Whisker. Cydnus,
who beat Serab, was a chestnut by Quiz, and good
for long distances in his day, and for half-breds in his
decline; and even old Fibbertigibbet, a blind chestnut
by Comus from a Selim mare, was added to his col-
lection* from Jemmy Messer's of Welwyn. Tarrare
by Catton was a great strapping sire for job horses,
F
66
Scott and Sebright.
after his mud tour with Tommy Nicholson at Don-
caster ; but " the coarse and larky coach-horse" Laurel,
who had under the same guidance avenged himself
on both Matilda and Mameluke, and put Longwaist,
Medora, Purity, and Mulatto to shame in the greatest
of his eight cup victories, never made or had much
chance of making himself a name at Stockwell, or
anywhere else. The big, leggy Muley Moloch found a
quiet refuge here, when he was compelled to abdicate
in favour of Lanercost at Walm Gate Bar Without,
and held it till the old gentleman died. Rockingham,
Calmuck, Belgrade, and The Baron were also in resi-
dence; Sorella was rather a favourite purchase ; and
Pocahontas came in the course of a city transaction
from Mr. Greatrex.
His Love of Mr. Theobald's highest ambition was
being in the to have the best of everything, cost what
Fashion. ft might. Mat-o'-the-Mint was the re-
suit of this feeling, and so was a dun trotting mare.
He also owned Rochester, who did the five miles on
the Bourne Bridge Road in 15 minutes 38 seconds,
against the Squire's hunting-looking Rattler; and
Macdonald never handled anything much better than
his Rockingham, who with his shaggy mane and low-
set tail, reminded bystanders more of a lion than a
horse. In short, the Squire of Stockwell carried out
the fashion of the day in everything, and pushed it to
the very extreme. Cost what it might, he would be
in the front. Sometimes his harness was smothered
in brass, and then plated would come up once more,
and he had the best of that. All his bacon was<eured
on the premises, and he defied Yorkshire or Cum-
berland to beat it. He brewed ale, which he was
ready to match for a hundred a-side against the Sled-
mere or Trinity College audit; and yet amid all this
rivalry with the great, " he ne'er forgot the small,"
and kept four or five cows specially for the* poor's
milk.
Turf Worthies:
67
At one time he dressed like the Prince His Dress and
Regent, and he finally subsided into Doss-
buckskins, brown-tops, blue-coat, with gilt-buttons,
buff-waistcoat, white handkerchief, and a broad-
brimmed hat. His weight was about twenty stone.
He breakfasted regularly at half-past ten in his little
parlour, whose walls James Ward, R.A., and Herring
had covered with their racers and trotters. The blood-
hound lay blinking on the rug, and quietly waiting
for his share of tlm plate with those mysterious eleven
slices of thick bread and butter, which the housekeeper
placed each morning at her master's side. Before
starting for town, .the old man made it a rule of life to
walk to the wicket-gate where five cats and as many
more dogs were duly in waiting, but they learnt to
know by the church bells that they had to look out
for Sunday's breakfast elsewhere. A yellow "pill-
box" always took him to his place of business in
Skinner-street, and a roan, brown, or Tra Horses
chestnut, each of them worth about 200 ap e '
guineas at the very least, was between the shafts.
The pace was always first-class, and his man returned
for him in the afternoon with a fresh horse. After
dinner, if he was alone, John Lowry appeared, and
read The Advertiser, beginning of course, with the
racing and " Vates." On Saturday night Trips to Don_
his master would sometimes produce a caster and
roll of bank-notes, and be off betimes in Newmarket-
the yellow chariot, with John on the box, to New-
market for the week. Such was his love of pace, that
he would not condescend to divide the Doncaster
journey into three days, as others did, but he dozed
all the way and slept at the Bull at Witham Common
the first night, and arrived on the second at his
lodgings near the Betting Rooms, which he shared
with his friends Tattersall and Peter Cloves. He was
hearty and bulky, and had the keenest enjoyment of a
race to the last, and ,it was not any disease of old age,
F 2
68
Scott and Sebright.
but a mere casual ailment which laid him, at eighty-
five, low in Kensal Green, nearly three years be-
fore Stockwell secured him his A I register among
breeders.
The Late Mr. For three years before his death, Mr.
Tattersaii. Richard or rather " Dick" Tattersall,
never mounted the rostrum, and even then his
memory had begun slightly to fail, and his son never
left his side. It was only on this point that he showed
signs of decay, as his general health continued good,
and he died very suddenly (1858), at Dover, in his
seventy-fourth year, merely from exhaustion brought
on by the heat; and was buried on the Goodwood
Cup day. He was a man who from his simple honesty
and unusually straightforward, decisive manner it was
impossible to misunderstand, and it has been well
said of him, that "the best men liked him best." To
rogues and dodgers he was a perfect terror, as he
spoke his mind to every one, peer or groom alike,
whom he didn't consider to be going straight, and
always conveyed his sentiments in pretty unmistak-
able terms. If the servant or any other agent of the
owner bid when the sale was " without reserve," he
has been known to send the whole stud away, after
the first horse, declaring in tones like the view holloa
of " The Squire," " piercing the heavens, Boys," that
he " would tell a lie for no man alive?
To professional betting he had a most inveterate
dislike, and beyond perhaps taking the odds to a fiver
for the Derby or St. Leger, often only on the morning
of the race, and very seldom winning, except in Phos-
Dislike to phorus' year (when he took 100 to I,
Betting. out Gf respect to Lord Berners), he
hardly risked a crown. In fact, when young men
wrote up to him about becoming members of the
Rooms, he as often as not wrote a line in reply to say
that betting was certain to ruin them, and they had,
therefore, far better keep their two guineas in their
Turf Worthies.
69
pockets. His feelings, both on this and many other
points, kept very large sums out of his ledger; but it
was the confidence of the public, not money, that he
cared for. Still The Rooms were an institution which
hardly admitted of being conducted in any other
than a pure matter of fact way; and as inconvenience
arose out of his scruples, he felt it best to hand over the
management of them entirely to a committee. His
opinion, like Bill Scott's, was made up by his first
glance at a man or horse, and his laconic analysis of
a lot, which seldom failed to put his audience in a
roar, and the way in which he dropped on to any
dodging bidders, or pert would-be questionists, were
always grand in the extreme.
His father, Mr. Edmund Tattersall, His Entry on
died suddenly from brain fever, and he the Business,
thus assumed the sole command at The Corner, when
he was only twenty-five. For some years he did all
the business himself, and was then joined by his
brother Edmund, and under their joint auspices, and
that of his son and nephew, the firm has well held
its own. A stag-hound difference between " Dick "
and Colonel Maberley led to the establishment of the
Baker-street Bazaar, but as Horace Walpole said of a
certain Court beauty, the old spot " required a vast of
ruining."
His grandfather " Old Tat," who first established
the concern, died in 1792, and was buried near
Highflyer Hall. That "family horse" The Yard at
was not foaled, and Bay Malton had Tattersaii's.
just made the pace strong enough in a four-mile
race over York to burst a blood-vessel in King
Herod's head, when the 99 years' lease of the
place was first signed with Lord Grosvenor. Old
Tat showed his loyalty by surmounting the pump
cupola with a bust of the Prince Regent, modelled
when he was only seventeen. It was lost during the
repairs, and missing for several years, after being
7°
Scoti and Sebright.
searched for high and low, and was then found by
the merest chance among some waste stones in a
builder's yard and duly replaced. When the lease
was signed, in 1766, "The Five Fields " stood on the
site of Belgrave Square, and cows and footpads
shared them. There was in fact nothing but fields,
where partridges still dared to "jug," as late as 1812,
between Hyde Park Corner and Chelsea, and back
fare had to be paid to the ancient jarveys if they
took a fare off the stones up to the present Prince's
Gate. Mr. Richard Tattersall's house was for many
years the London head-quarters of the Jockey Club,
who had a regular cook and coffee-room ; and all the
Newmarket business was transacted at the office of
the late Mr. Weatherby, who was in practice there as
a solicitor.
Mr. Tattersall's ML Tattersall's father and the Prince
Connexion with Regent had been partners in the Morn-
the Prmce. ^no- p0st, and cast in 5000/. damages for
" a delicate Court disclosure." Although the paper
passed into other hands, the royal connexion with
the son remained firm, and only once was there an
interruption of good feeling on George Guelph's part,
and then only for a few hours. Count Miinster was
Difficulties with Hanoverian Ambassador to the
h.r.h. about Court of St. James, and shared with
a Challenge. j^s Majesty the guardianship of a cer-
tain reigning Duke. The latter felt himself aggrieved
at some money matters, and his equerry requested
Mr. Tattersall to convey a letter to the Count. Not
suspecting anything, he took Wimbledon in his after-
noon's ride, and as the Count was not at home, he
gave the letter to the valet. His astonishment and
indignation were most unmeasured, when The Times
of the next day announced that a challenge had been
sent to the Count, and that Mr. Tattersall had been
the bearer of it. It was, of course, construed by the
King into an insult to himself, as co-guardian; but
Ttirf Worthies.
7
aik explanation soon set matters right between them,
^nd it transpired that, if the letter had not met with
such convoy, it would have been left by an attorney's
clerk.
When George Guelph became King, His Majesty's
he honourably paid off every outstand- Care for old
ing liability, and sending for Mr. Tatter- Chums-
sail, he said to him, "You've known all the men I've
known in my youth; when any of them ever get
into difficulties, send me word." And so he did most
faithfully, and a royal cheque for all amounts from
ioo/, to 500/. would arrive, whenever the out-of-elbows
office was given.
Mr. Tattersall's lameness began when Mr. Tattersaii as
he was quite a boy, and was always attri- a Hunting Man-
buted to the groom's habit of giving him a leg up very
roughly on to his pony. He had been limping for
some months before his family took much notice of
it, and even Dr. Hunter pledged his word that the
bone was not out of the socket. Time said differently,
but not until all cure was hopeless. Still this sad mis-
fortune did not dwell on his mind or stand in the way
of his hunting, a sport which he loved far beyond
racing; and after Lord Derby's grandfather gave up
the Surrey staghounds, and Mr. Maberley tired, he
managed them for three or four seasons.
He was one of the most regular staggers when his
lordship lived at The Oaks. Jonathan Griffin, on his
grey, came out in state, with his whips and prickers
on their 200-guinea horses, and Lord Fitzwilliam, Sir
Hedworth Williamson, the Hon. Fitzroy Stanhope,
the Hon. George and John Coventry, Lord Lecon-
field and his brother General Wyndham, and the Hon.
Berkeley Craven were seldom missing from among
the scarlets, when Smitham Bottom was the meet.
Mr. Tattersaii was also a constant frequenter of the
cover-side ; and in order to meet Earl Fitzwilliam's, he
would sometimes have three hacks posted for him, and
72
Scott and Sebright.
starting as soon as his Monday's sale labours were
over, ride all the way to Stamford, where he arrived
in the dead of night. In consequence of his infirmity,
he liked to have the horse on his arms, and hence any
one who had a very hard-puller or rusher, at about
five-and-thirty pounds, knew pretty generally where
there was a customer for it. He had no purchase with
one knee, and simply rode by balance, steadying him-
self at a leap by a handle at the back of his saddle.
If he could succeed in having three or four falls in a
day, he was all the better pleased with himself; and
said that he never had a good run without them. He
quite enjoyed hearing those who did not know him,
exclaim as he limped across the field after his horse—
" Poor fellow ! look how he's hurt himself
Understanding The days when the whitS horse Of a
with Highway- leading road practitioner was styled
men. « R0bin Gray" were not over, when
he took his lonely night rides into the Midlands: but
the highwaymen all knew him, and he rode unscathed
among masks and pistols. The pikeman near Gran-
tham once said to him, when he was on his way to
meet "The Duke's," " Doritt go on, sir; I've had
several through to-night, and they've all been robbed'.'
" Never mind, my man',' said the little hero, " no one
ever stops meand on he went. Two miles further,
and a masked horseman was at his side, and they rode
silently for some two hundred yards together. At
last there came the husky voice of the night, "I
think your name's TattersaW " Tattersall!—of
course it is," was the reply, " Richard Tattersall all
the world overt' This was quite enough, and with
the courteous rejoinder, "Ah, I thought so; I beg
your pardon, sir," and a mutual " good night," they
parted.
Sir clement He was seldom heard to tell this story
Dormer in without dwelling in contrast upon the
Difficulties. woes 0f cqr Qement Dormer, who was
Turf Worthies.
73
Master of the Ceremonies at St. James's. Sir Clement
was fond of riding up to London on a very large
horse, and talked on horse matters to every one he
saw. Coming out of Beaconsfield one day he over-
took another horseman. " Going to town, sir V he
began. " Yes, Sir Clement, I am," was the reply.
" What! you know me, then f we'll ride, together!'
And on they went. " That's a very nice horse you're
on',' said Sir Clement. " Yes, he is," said the man.
" Would you like to see him go ?" They were under
Bulstrode Park wall at the time, and the man trotted
away to a turn of the road, where he could see half a
mile before him. The coast was clear both ways, and
when Sir Clement arrived full of admiration, his new
friend promptly put a pistol to his head. There was
nothing for it but to produce his purse, and receive
the sorry consolation in exchange, " Now, Sir Clement,
do let me advise you to give up that bad habit of talking
to every one about their horse'.'
Mr. Tattersall bore a charmed pocket in town, and
once when it was picked of a handkerchief, remorse
seized the appropriator, when he was proceeding to
pick out the name, and it was " returned with compli-
ments—taken quite by mistake." One cracksman
was, however, much less scrupulous, as he broke into
the office and took 500/. Suspicion His stories of
rather fell upon the too celebrated slender Billy.
" Slender Billy," who was then a great man with the
Corinthians, and had cocks, badgers, rats, bears, and
terriers, ready to go into action at any moment. His
crib in the Willow Walk, Tothill Fields, was a perfect
conjuror's bottle in this respect, and if there was likely
to be " a call of the house," on any very important
occasion, he could knock up a bull-ring as well. The
Bow Street runners were all terrified at him, and
haunted with a legend, that when their august body
had once girded up their loins for a descent upon him,
Billy had vindicated the majesty of the spot in his
74
Scott and Sebright.
peculiar way, by unloosing the bears. They knew
him ostensibly as a knacker, but it was whispered that
he " was wanted" for a little affair about the com-
munion plate at St. Paul's. A still heavier suspicion
Boiling the Ex- hung over him, and " Oh ! master, to
ciseman. think that I should go and boil an excise-
man !" was his invariable mode of parrying the ques-
tion which was so often propounded to him on that
head. He seemed to look upon any allusion to it as
rather a delicate compliment than otherwise, and there
was an impression on the mind of the executive, that
the unhappy gauger, who could never be traced
beyond, had visited Billy's premises once too often,
and had been popped bodily into the flesh copper.
Billy's Warning Under all these rumours, Billy pre-
Voice, served a pleasing and courteous exterior,
and in such perilous times it was prudent for virtue
and respectability to stand in with him, just so far as
to have his good word if they were robbed. One
evening, a leading man was sitting down to dinner,
when the presence of " The slender one" in the ser-
vants' hall was announced. " Do ask Billy what he
zvants with me at this time of night" was the testy
message; but Billy refused to unbosom by proxy.
There was nothing for it, and as it was not safe to
alienate Billy's affections by neglect, the parties met
at once, and conversed on this wise: " Well, Billy,
zvhai's up now?" "You're lost one of your fat pigs,
master." " Yes, I have, Billy, and I'll make the fellows
pay for it pretty sharply'.' " Now, look here, master,
I II just tell you what it is; if you go on as you're
doing, kicking up such a confounded row, you'll lose
the other." " Well, Billy, it's a bad job ; but per-
haps I'll take your advice, a7id say no more about it."
And so Billy departed, and the bereft one became
bacon in peace,
and his Exe- Billy came to grief and the gallows at
cution. jas^ under the operation of the Forgery
Turf Worthies.
75
Act It was proved that he could neither read nor
write, but that mattered very little. When Bow
Street, stimulated to unusual energy by the taunts of
its superior, dropped upon him, he had the flash-notes
in his hand, and not only thrust them into the fire, but
held them there. Having only his "left duke" at
liberty, he could not defend his hearth position long
enough, and sufficient fragments were rescued to give
the assayer his cue. Mr. Tattersall visited him in the
condemned cell, and urged him to confess his asso-
ciates, and for a few minutes he sat on his box, with
his heavily chained hands to his face, apparently ab-
sorbed in thought. Then he broke out: " No, master,
they'll never say that Slender Billy split on his pals ; if
every hair on my head was alive, and had to be hung
separate, I wouldn't?' And die he did, walking second
in the procession of nine on to the Newgate Scaffold,
and some would have it that Dan Dawson, who wore
the fatal nightcap on Cambridge gaol next spring,
when he had cost the Jockey Club 1500/. to pro-
secute him, had stood near St. Sepulchre's church
that very morning, and marked that " Billy was
game."
Parson Harvey was wont to hang about Parson H
the office at Tattersall's on sale days, in
his dirty white cravat and suit of rusty black. Mr.
Tattersall would never let them wake him if he snored
in his chair, with the butt end of a pound of mutton
chops sticking out of his pocket. " Let him sleep, poor
fellow ! it's a sweeter place than the garret in Pimlico'.'
His only connexion with the Church latterly consisted
in almost daily visits to Westminster Abbey, to hear
the anthem, and he rode his stallions there by turn.
To avoid ostlers' fees, they were left at a farrier's while
he lingered about the nave, and one new shoe was put
on at a time, that he might have a pretext for the
convenience' as often as possible. Mr. Tattersall had
always some fresh story about him, and if there was an
76
Scott and Sebright.
odd anecdote about man or horse, the master of " The
Corner" generally gave it first.
Mr. Vernon on He delighted to tell of the great
Long Preaching. racing man Mr. Vernon, who had been
quite a Waterton in his wanderings, and rode a horse,
which he had painted like a leopard, on his return.
Long sermons were not to his mind. Hence he pre-
sented his parish church with a hollow sounding board,
craftily connected by a secret spring to his pew, and
when on the first Sunday the sermon had reached a
certain length, and showed no symptoms of ending, he
dropped it like an extinguisher on the preacher.
Poachers and steel traps were alike his horror; and as
his notices, spring guns, and steel traps gradually be-
came stale, he wrote up in three-inch letters : " Every
one fo2md trespassing on these grounds shall be spiffli-
catedf and the menace of such unknown torture was
effectual at last.
Coaching, Dogs, Driving the Peterbro' coach was great
and Fists, fancy of Mr. Tattersall's, and he was
quite as au fait at road language as John Warde, who
invariably worked the Hungerford coach up, on his
non-hunting days. Still he always confessed himself
to be quite in shadow, when he told how the master of
the Craven had admonished a " box seat," who wore
immensely high collars, in language more graphic
than polite, of the ultimate injury he might inflict on
his health. Dogs he was exceedingly fond of, and the
best one he ever had, wandered into his yard by acci-
dent. The groom misunderstood the extent of his orders
to " give the poor wretch something to eat," and kept it
for two months. There was then nothing for it but to
be put through the mill, and by way of trying high
enough, it was tumbled bodily into a tub with two
badgers. A tremendous scuffle of five minutes was
followed by an ominous lull; but the dog had won the
day most decisively, and nothing would face it for
ioo guineas a-side. Once it was challenged by its
Turf Worthies.
17
old owner in Piccadilly, but as it would let no one but
Mr. Tattersall touch it, the offers to " take him, if yoil
can"—was a perfectly safe one.
It never left its adopted master's side R.wc
in his walks, and waited for him outside
the theatres. It was well that it did not penetrate
further, or it would have taken a most dangerous part
in some of the light skirmishes which came off there
almost nightly. There were no police to keep disor-
derlies in check, and numerous "little difficulties"
were arranged by fists in the lobby. Mr. Tattersall,
who was immensely powerful, and had enjoyed many
a private glove bout with Jackson in the old betting
rooms, was not unfrequently engaged, and the box-
keeper would seize up a bench, and run to him, in
order that by seating himself, and daring his man to
sit opposite him, and fight it out, he might never be at
a discount. Sir Tatton promptly offered to act for him
when the foe, who had been very offensive, seemed far
above his weight, in the Doncaster theatre, but his
blood was up, and he wouldn't hear of it.
The great John Warde was one of Mr. The Late John
Tattersall's most. intimate friends, and Warde.
Monday after Monday his portly form would be seen
at dinner there, facing Col. Dan Mackinnon. The
room was in keeping with the company. Highflyer
and " Old Tat" looked down on them from its walls,
and so did Warrior, Tandem, and Mambrino, and
"Dick" himself on the bay Bonaparte, with his little
white terrier at his side, going as if the dickens kicked
them, across Surrey. This Monday feast commenced
before his father died, and the old man, who said that
hunting talk was hardly in his line, gave up his room
for the day, and " left the boys to themselves." At
these times the Doncaster Cup, of the two horse-
handles, won by Crookshanks in 1781, always held the
punch. The pipe of port, which the host and his
brother Edmund l»id down annually between them
78
Scott and Sebright
from Harmer's, had also a heavy tax laid on it, as each
man had to drink John Warde and the Noble Science,
in a silver fox-head, which held nearly a pint, and
admitted of no heel taps. None stood the process
better than "glorious John" himself, and he would rise
from the table as steady as a rock, and never leave till
he had gone up to the drawing-room, in the short
hours, to bid Mrs. Tattersall good-bye.
Mr. Tattersaii's The Derby dinner, which was held late
Derby Dinner. {n the week before Epsom, would have
seemed as nothing without him to represent fox-hunt-
ing, and true as the dial to the sun, he would, a few
minutes before six, issue from his yellow chariot, in
his silver knee and shoe buckles. His servants wore
that same style of low-crowned hat which the Blue
Ruin and Betsy picture has immortalized, and their
brown coats were edged with silver braid. A large
cold game-pie held its pride of place at the feast, and
the host especially plumed himself on the Rhenish hock
which his foreign friends sent him. The venison was
from Goodwood, where he was often a guest during
the races, and the Duke and Lord Stradbroke were
at his last festival. With his brother, and latterly
his son JRichard, to face him, no host held his party
together better, or told such old-fashioned stories from
behind his stiff white choker, and it was only when his
memory began to fail him, and his jokes would not
come out quite so crisp and neat as of yore, that he
reluctantly gave it up.
The First Death has been busy with hosts and
Guests. guests since John Warde's place knew
him no more. Kit Wilson, the Father of the Turf,
Jack Musters, and the florid Duke of Holstein,—who
bought the Duke of York's mares and loved a field-
day among the badgers in the Five Fields Pit,—all
dined there once, and adjourned to a ball at Carlton
House in the evening. There, too, came Ormsby
Gore, the master of Hesperus, " Plenipo Batson" from-
Turf Worthies.
79
Gogmagog, and Captain Meynell, who won the Derby
Club Cup for his host, with a cocktail, when they were
confederates in 'i 6. Val Kingston, a wine merchant,
who had a share of his Ruby and Ratcatcher, never
failed to show ; nor did the hapless Berkeley Craven,
whose Oaks book would have brought him back more
than the amount for which his Derby one beat him.
Bedfordshire sent her best Nimrod, Sam Ongley, to
face John Warde, and those who had
" Seen him at the time,
When Melon glittered in his prime ;
And one by one the scattered train
Came up to question or explain,"—
dare not dispute the title. The stately Charles
Young, with his fine baritone voice, was another,
and the evening never passed without a call on
him for " The Old English Gentleman." Years
after he was gone, two rival authors quarrelled
about this song, and Mr. Fitzroy Stanhope knocked
them both out of the betting, by stating that he
had heard his friend Charles sing it almost before
they were born.
Young was a beautiful foil for hlS Humours of
vivacious friend Charles Mathews, who Chas. Mathews, •
always had a bet on the Derby, and was Sen>
never more "At Home" than at his friend Tat's house.
He would mimic his selling manner to the life, and
his " Take Care ! " was absolutely tremendous. An-
other of his annual encores was in the story of the
foreigner, who went to purchase blood-stock at New-
market, and utterly confounded the trainer by asking
" What years he has ?" If he was in his best form,
he would go behind the curtain, and come out quite a
different man, just as when he dined with a rich pawn-
broker, and slipping out of the room unobserved,
appeared in the shop below, and pawned him his own
knives and forks. In the Derby Lottery Drawing the
of the evening, he was of course Mr, Tat- Derby Lottery.
8o
Scott and Sebright.
tersall's deputy. The stakes were two sovereigns
each, and of the eighteen or twenty subscribers one
always took the field. The lots were placed in a
claret-cup, and drawn after dinner, and those who did
not like their horse's chance, or wanted to hedge, had
it put up for sale. Mathews knew his Calendar and
Corner quotations right well, and could dilate to any
extent on the merits of a favourite, which he some-
times sold as high as 20/. " Some say Glaucus, some
Forester, and others Whale, but I say that Astra—
can win the Derby," was one of his neatest hits in
1833.
Frightening the He nearly frightened a post-boy out
chesterford of his wits, when he accompanied Mr.
Post-boy. Tattersall and his son Richard to New-
market. They had dined at Chesterford (whose old
waiter never wore a hat except when he came to Lon-
don to receive his half-yearly dividends), and had got
about a mile on the road, when Mathews put his head
out of the window, and imitated the cry of a child
which had been run over. The post-boy pulled up
with a jerk, but being very short and humpbacked,
he was unable to get off, and had to run along the
pole, and so to earth by the splinter-bar. Once there,
he groped about hopelessly in the dark for the suf-
ferer, till Mr. Tattersall ordered him to ascend once
more. Beyond Bourne Bridge, the screams were again
heard, and descending still more swiftly, he was not
content this time with crawling under the carriage to
make sure that he had not committed infanticide, but
drew the neighbouring hedges blank as well. Again
the same agonizing scream startled the night; but
the little man could bear it no longer, and going at
his horses, hand and heel, he raced them past Six-
mile Bottom, roaring that he would stop for no
one, and that there was " something evil in the
chaise."
As a breeder of blood stock, Mr. Tattersall was
Turf Worthies.
81
not particularly successful. He always Mr. Tattersaii
sold when he could, and his foreign cus- as a Breeder of
tomers cleared him out so often, that his Blood Stock*
brood mares and yearlings were but little tested. It
seemed his duty to keep the thing going, and as he
, quaintly told a committee of the House of Commons,
with a low bow, he " did not wish to see an end of
horse racing and your humble servant." He bought
The Colonel out of pure loyalty at the Hampton
Court sale, because he did not consider that France
ought to have him so cheap; but neither him nor
Glaucus, nor Ratcatcher (a very great favourite) did
much for him. Charles XII., Sir Hercules, and Hark-
away were also hired by him to stand at Dawley or
Willesden. The " race Sunday" there never quite
looked itself unless Mr. Tattersaii appeared in his
wonted seat of honour at old St. George's, making
the responses in a deep, sonorous voice, along with
the Marquis of Westminster (who seldom quitted the
borough all September), from the front row of the
Corporation pew. Scarcely an alderman or common
councillor was absent from the rear of the mace that
day; and never did men look so important as they
marched down Baxter Gate in procession.
His collection of horse portraits, which Mr. Tattersaii's
is far the largest in England, was Mr. Scrap-book.
Tattersaii's great delight, and each member of that
congress of cracks, lies like a veiled prophet under
silver paper, with its performances written out by the
collector himself, in small round-hand. Lord Lons-
dale's collection merged in it, and it goes back to
Sedbury, 1734, who was " for justness of shape the
most beautiful." Stubbs begins in 1768, with
Mambrino, of the lofty style, and the forefather
of some of the best American trotters. Firetail's
head is a remarkable specimen; and in Jupiter we
have the softer line of Gilpin, about 1790, and again
in Sir Peter Teazle. According to the picture of
G
82
Scott and Sebright.
Orville and Selim, they must have been giraffes of
a trifle under nineteen hands, and their painter need
hardly have made such a point of drinking " The
Arts," as the last toast wherever he dined. High-
flyer's 113 winners stand, in rows of nine, opposite
him, and close by the original deed of conveyance
which Lord Bolingbroke literally sealed with his
thumb. The new era of steel engraving seems to
dawn with Ben Marshall, and Haphazard. Quiz (1808)
is remarkable for its curious Newmarket background,
in which the Duke's Stand, a heavy-sterned jockey, a
soldier, and a man with a wooden leg, have not been
forgotten ; and Rubens, after Barenger, and supposed
to be in training, is as fat as a Dutch vrow.
James Ward, The late Mr. James Ward, R.A., is
R,A* well represented in that strange turf
missal. He was related by marriage to Morland, and
took to the same line of art, with such success as to
become quite the first animal painter of the early part
of the century. "He showed," as an eminent critic
writes us, " wonderful facility in the management of
white animals, particularly bulls; and painted the
skins of his horses most delightfully, and his Earl
Powis's Arabian and portrait of a Hunter, exhibited
in the Royal Academy about 1818, are marvellous
both in colour and execution. Unfortunately he did
not let well alone, but began to study Rubens ; and
in all his after backgrounds there were the heavy
blues and purples so conspicuous in that great master's
works, but which were quite out of place in the portrait
of a horse or other animal. Instead of continuing his
beautiful skins, he now sought to give more texture,
and consequently exchanged the satin for the door-
mat. He was, it has been considered, a good anato-
mist; but now he made a bad use of his knowledge,
for some of his horses looked as if they were skinned.
Arabians and thoroughbreds show this to a great
extent, but never as drawn by him. This he called
Turf Worthies.
83
" giving character;" but he forgot that, by adopting
crooked lines where they should be straight, in many
instances he introduced that which gave the appear-
ance of disease—i.e., curbs, thorough-pins, spavins,
splints, and ringbones. He also introduced so many
lines and veins into his horses' heads, and more par-
ticularly into the eyes and nostrils, that, instead of
producing the effect he intended to express, they
quite looked as if they were laughing. His " Doctor
Syntax " has some strange drawing in the under-lip,
and also in the hind-legs : but his " Phantom " is
better.
Mr. Ferneley's father was a wheel- Mr> Fernel
wright at Thrussington (where the future
painter was born on the 18th of May, 1782), and
obliged him to follow that trade until he was twenty-
one. He had, however, chosen his own line long
before that; and every leisure moment was spent in
preparing his colours and canvas, and copying pic-
tures lent him by a gentleman in the neighbourhood.
His father soon found that it was no use contesting
the point, and accordingly sent him in 1803, to study
under Ben Marshall, the great horse-painter of that
day. After a year's tuition from his brilliant but lazy
tutor, he started to seek his fortune in Ireland. In
1806 he turned up at Quorn, about the time when
Mr. Assheton Smith bought the hounds; and
achieved, as it were, his Leicestershire. diploma by
painting some hunting pictures for " Le Grand
Chasseur," beginning with little Will Burton and
Manager. The next three years were spent between
England and Ireland. He then retraced his steps to
Thrussington, and was married ; and 1814 found him
regularly settled at Melton Mov/bray, where he
painted two generations of Leicestershire hard riders
and stable beauties, and received a very extensive
patronage from other hunts. His works since that
date amount to some hundreds, several of them of a
G 2
84
Scott and Sebright.
very large size. Among the earliest of them was
" Mr. Assheton Smith and his Hounds," for the Earl
of Plymouth. He seldom recurred to this picture
without telling how one day, when he strolled out as
a lad to the meet, the Leicestershire hunting-field
first became cognisant of Mr. Smith's existence by
seeing a young man (of whom nothing more was then
known, except that he was a guest at Belvoir) put his
chestnut, Jack-a-Lantern, eight or nine times at a
flight of rails, before he could get him over.
Principal Pic- The late Marquis of Westminster, Mr.
tures. Foljambe, Mr. Russell, of Brancepeth
Castle; the Earl of Kintore, Mr. Ralph Lambton,
and Sir Bellingham Graham were also among his
large hunting-picture patrons ; and the latter selected
as his subject "The Meet at Kirby Gate." One also
adorned the lobby of the late Master of the Hur-
worth; and Mr. Craufurd, of Langton Hall, has a
large " Scurry" from his hand, with portraits of Sir
Harry Goodricke, Mr. Osbaldeston, and Sir Francis
Holyoake. The study for these three was a very
favourite one, and hung in his studio, like a sacred
relic of the good old times, as long as the little, en-
feebled form of the hoary devotee to art could bend
over the easel. There, too, was another and a
smaller " Scurry" of modern scarlets, which Earl
Wilton won in a raffle; a half-finished picture of Sir
Harry Goodricke, with Mumford and his whips, Will
Derry and Beers at the Whaw-Hoop ; and a sort of
caricature of hard riding, in which Sir Francis Holy-
oake, on his white-legged chestnut Brilliant, is trying
to catch the fox, and within an ace of succeeding.
" Silver Firs" was also a well-known shooting picture
of his, and the Duke of Rutland had many hunters
from his hand. Miss Burdett Coutts honoured him
as well with an order for an equestrian portrait of
her late father; and his last professional journey was
undertaken in company with his daughters, to paint
Turf Worthies.
35
some hunters for Lord Middleton, in Yorkshire.
Racehorses were less in his line; but a commission
from Lord Jersey included Filagree and Cobweb,
with their foals; and Velocipede and The Cur (for
Mr. Craufurd) are among his Turf memorials.
He was a man of unwearied industry His Habits
and perseverance; and although he had
been a great invalid for the last two years, he never
gave up his habit of early rising till a very short time
before his death. However sleepless and painful the
night might have been, it seemed a relief to him to be
back, with the morning light, in his studio. Every
June found him up in London for his annual visit to
the exhibitions; and, if we remember rightly, his
last sketching expedition was into the Vale of
Belvoir; and he showed us the stable-interiors he
had gathered in that quarter with particular delight,
from some connexion they had with the hunting days
of Mr. Musters. Amongst his latest works were two
very large ones of "The Horse Fair" and "The
Cattle Market," containing portraits of celebrated
horses and horse-characters in the neighbourhood.
The chase was, after all, his great forte. He loved it
best; and hence he painted it best; and his pictures
were real bits of Cream Gorse memory. In his plain
groups of horses there was more mannerism, and his
outline and shadows were often rather too hard ; but
although he lacked any very remarkable finish, there
were the higher qualities of feeling and breadth
about everything he handled. Beyond what they
were doing at Belvoir, the hunting of the present had ,
but little interest for him. He sighed for the old
regime when " George the Fourth was king," and
when Moore, Maxse, and Maher were names of
Melton renown,
"Him go vip, vip, vip I Vot he know visit to Mr.
about horses ?" said a jealous old artist, Herring at
when Herring, the well-known coachman Meopham.
86
Scott and Sebright.
of the London and York Highflyer, had thrown aside
the reins in Jack Spigot's year, and fairly cast in his
lot with the mahl-stick. We thought of the saying
as, under the guidance of "Sailor Jack," another of
the North Road men who had followed Mr. Herring's
fortunes, and then looked after his Arabs, we bowled
over the three miles from Tonbridge to Meopham
Park. Even in the tender sunshine of a May morn-
ing, the hop-fields with their countless wigwams of
poles wore a very dreary air, and made us long for
the autumn, when their rich green clusters will once
more claim to be Barley Brides. The carriage-drive
shaded by oaks with large fantastic arms, which
would have made Parson Gilpin of the New Forest
gaze for a moment and then rush for relief to his
pencil, is kept in faultless " Quicksilver mail order," as
a memento of the old whip days.
Scarcely a wheel has touched it since Charles
Herring was borne over it in 1856 to his grave, and
it is really sacred to his memory. And well it may
be, as a better son or a more skilful lover of art for
his years never passed to his rest.
White and red rosebuds just bursting into bloom,
clustered round the verandah, and from it the outline
of the pleasant woods of Penshurst, which
" Heard the sounds of Sydney's song,
Perchance of Surrey's reed,"
was just visible in the drowsy distance. Partridges
were feeding on the lawn, and scarcely caring to rise
on the wing, or run behind the purple beech at your
approach; and the deep coo of the wood-pigeons as
they perched on the Scotch and silver firs, which
towered above the thickly interlaced grove of holly
and laburnum, so vocal with its song of spring, was all
in harmony with a painter's home.
Horse and Don- J ack, the thirty-seven inch pony, is
key Models, nearly as free to range, and he mounted
Turf Worthies.
87
the steps of the front-door and walked gravely into
the room, in search of his gingerbread, or to inquire
if he was wanted for the basket that day. Favourite
as he is, we did not meet with him on canvas, and in
this respect he differs widely from the white Arab
Imaum, of which the story goes that he has not been
seen to lie down for at least eight years. He sleeps
leaning against his stall, and like the oldest Alderney,
and the donkey which runs unicorn in the bush-
harrow and roller team, and wins half the saddles in
the neighbourhood when so disposed, he is on canvas
all the world over, in nearly a hundred positions.
Sometimes an Ironside stables him in a cathedral nave,
or he waits for some boisterous cavalier, hard by an
alehouse bench.
He was one of the four first horses that The Arab
.was ever sent over by the Imaum of imaum.
Muscat to Her Majesty; and was made a present to
the Clerk of the Royal Stable, whc* sold him at
Tattersall's. When it became necessary to have a
model for the dead horses, which Mr. Herring was to
have introduced into the Battle of Waterloo at the
Gallery of Illustration, he sent for Pedro, a black
man from Batty's Circus, and had him taught to lie
down. With a few lessons he became so complete a
trick horse, that Pedro declared he wanted nothing
but youth to beat the Bedas, and the other time-
honoured pets of the horse ballet, quite out of the
field. He looks peaky and worn now, and his tricks
have rather departed from him; but in his prime, Mr.
Herring was followed by a gentleman into a yard in
Piccadilly, and had 200 guineas bid for him there and
then. In spite of the prejudice against Arabs, he
was wonderfully stout, and when his master drove him
from Camberwell to Stevenage and back, about
75 miles in one day, to paint The Switcher and other
" Steeple-Chase Cracks" for Lord Strathmore, he was
fresher than the English black, who was in the phaeton
88
Scott and Sebright.
with him, and who had never shirked his work by
comparison before. Her Majesty hearing of Mr.
Herring's severe asthma, which for some time quite
disabled him from leaving home, sent down three
of her horses for him to paint. They included Kor-
seed (a white Arab), Bagdad, a black charger of the
late Prince Albert's, and Said, the Arab on which Mr.
Meyer instructed the royal children. The latter is
among the Osborne collection, with a background of
white sand and Arab tents, in the composition of
which his friend Mr. D. Roberts, R.A., gave Mr.
Herring the advantage of all his Eastern lore.
The painting-room almost adjoins the stable, but it
has been but little used since his son's death. A
model of a coach in a case rests upon some packing-
boxes, and the original sketch for the picture which
he took of the beautiful Attila, just before he went
abroad, is the only tenant of the easel; but the
sketch, like that fatal journey, was never completed.
Mr. Herring was then about sixty-seven, or just the
mean in age between his old friends John and William
Mr. Herrings Scott. Doncaster and its Town Moor
First Efforts, associations naturally whetted his zeal
for the brush long before he took to it as a profession,
and many a little horse or mail-coach sketch by him
crept on to the tavern walls, and the signs. His
earliest anatomy study was the fractured leg of
Spartan, one of whose small bones near the pastern
was completely pulverized by his break down ; and
Smolensko and Comus were the racers on which his
" prentice han" was tried.
Other Subjects. , A gigantic " Horse Fair" adorns the
lobby, which is, as Mr. Herring's pictures
so invariably are, " all daylight." The mail is again
in requisition, following in the wake of a gig, whose
horse trots right out of the picture, and whose driver
casts a glance at the troops of nags and stallions,
which are dispersing to their stalls when business is
Turf Worthies.
89
over. All kinds have mustered there, and the supply
of ginger-nuts and ginger in the raw has been of
course unlimited. Then we get among the Eight
Day-Waggons and a pair of the blue jacket and
white hat line, stopping for refreshment at one of the
old road-side inns near the orthodox trough and tree.
Wood-piling and hop-picking are not forgotten. It
seems that there is a family in the neighbourhood who
especially pride themselves on the accomplishment;
and accordingly, at half-past six one summer morn-
ing, Mr. Herring sallied out, and caught them by
appointment, just at the most picturesque crisis, when
the timber is slung aloft, and the truck is being
backed under it. In the other, the artist in a straw-
hat, with a black ribbon and mahogany tops, plays
" Farmer Oldfield," and does not look, as he gazes
complacently at the fast-filling bins, as if the iron of
Gladstone was piercing his soul so acutely. The
jaunty ribbons and tunics of the hop-pickers blend
very prettily with the green avenues which they are
so ruthlessly rifling, and the farmer's daughter with
her bonnet carelessly tossed back is taking the tally
as the widow brings up her bin to be measured.
At that time Mr. Herring painted in interior of his
his dining-room, which was hung all studio,
round with prints from his works, of which " Dis-
tinguished Members of the Temperance Society" was
the premier. It is there that he loved to grapple with
the Giant Foreshortening, who has given the cross-
buttock to so many, and flung him in picture after
picture. Leading lines have always been his great
guide for perspective, and he invariably works from
left to right. His great racing pictures were gene-
rally got by the aid of a sketch-book, with ideal
horses and jockeys, which a few strokes from life at
the post converted into portraits. Of Vision he had
no sight at all, but sketched her, years after her death,
merely from the description of Will Beresford, who
9°
Scott and Sebright.
pronounced the likeness perfect. All the elder heroes
caught our eye, as we turned from a gigantic* Dutch-
man galloping, and scanned the oil treasures of his
portfolio. Sultan was there, with his beautiful Arab
Recollections of head and dish nose, not more beautiful
his "Bookof but more masculine in its expression
Beauty. tjian ^ttila's. Langar's was another of
the glorious heads, and so was Dr. Syntax's, Mame-
luke's, Partisan's, and Venison's, with his deep jowl
and tapering nose. Mr. Herring considers that the
coarsest thorough-bred horse he ever painted was
Ardrossan, the sire of Jack Spigot (the first of his St.
Leger winning series), as his neck was really heavier
than even Stubbs's sketch of the Godolphin Arabian;
and Welbeck, the sire of the neat little Bedlamite
ranks nearly as high in his list of the Ugly Club.
Mr. Lambton's Don Juan by Orville, who wrought
wonders among the Cleveland mares, was quite one of
his delights, and so were Magistrate, and Filho da
Puta; while The Duchess (who always ran in high
company) was his prima donna among the small, and
Crucifix and Queen of Trumps among the larger-sized
mares.
painting Bay We trace in a pictured line the Cother-
Middieton. stone pedigree on both sides, till the
Whalebone and Whisker strains united; and in essay-
ing The Dutchman's, we came across the original
sketch of Bay Middieton, just as it was left about a
quarter of a century ago. It occupied only I hour
10 min., but it looks like the work of a day. No
horse impressed Mr. Herring more firmly than this
son of Sultan with the belief that he had the heart and
■* Apropos of this picture, Mr. Herring told a landlord of an inn,
the sign of which was a half moon, that if he would get his licence
altered to The Flying Dutchman, he would make him a present of a
new sign, which Boniface considering too good for a sign, never hung
outside, and refused a very long sum for, although painted on the
Half Moon wood.
Ttirf Worthies.
9i
the muscular energy to do what he liked with his
fields, " George Villiers" too stood by the easel, watch-
ing every stroke as it was dashed in; and never had
painter a higher stimulus to bring all his manhood to
his hand.
If we want to sketch an enthusiast n D „,.
.. . , , - baron retrofiski.
among Continental sportsmen, we need
only turn for a space to the Romanoff dominions
and its Baron Ippolyte Petroffski. The Baron, who
is better known in the thirty-six-letter alphabet of his
country as " Ummoiuml Nemjsobevez," resides at
Petroffski Park, a short distance out of Moscow. The
house is a two-storied one, built in the oriental style,
among beautiful gardens, and with a large set of stables
attached, These are, after all, merely his head-quar-
ters during the season of ice and snow, and hardly
furnish any index to the magnitude of his possessions,
which consist of three large estates in the interior.
On each of them he keeps nearly a thousand serfs ;
but his sway is not of a very iron kind, and those who
are not engaged in agriculture are all brought up to
some trade. Everything necessary for himself and
this huge family is produced on his own estates, from
sheep-skins down to his renowned kish-le-shee, a
species of mead of an aromatic rose flavour, and com-
pounded from apple juice, honey, and flour and water.
Sixty-five summers have done very His Love of
little towards blanching his hair or dim- sP°rt-
ming his sharp hazel eyes, and he still carries his
light wiry frame erect, as beseems a captain of the
Imperial Guard. No one who has visited him can
forget that quiet, courteous bearing, or the delight
with which he speaks of everything English. Sir
Joseph Hawley and John Scott are breathing types to
his imagination of everything cute in connexion with
horse management; and if a Witch of Endor gave
him his choice as to what spirit among the departed
thoroughbreds he should recall from the Happy
92
Scott and Sebright.
Pastures to his delighted gaze for a season, he would
decide for old Waxy or Orville. His fowls, sheep,
pigs, and dogs (not forgetting the favourite black
terrier which has been painted in one of his pictures),
are all English ; but we are not so sure as to the
nativity of his fighting geese. They are stouter than
the common geese, and on shorter legs, and are put
down just like game cocks on to the green sod for the
fray, which they solemnly conduct by seizing each
other by the beak, and striking furiously with the
butts of their wings. Such is his passion for the sport,
that for one of the most warlike he paid no less than
500 silver roubles.
His Race-horse The Baron breeds his horses at one of
.Breeding. hiS estates, and trains at another, where
his string do their work in the winter, without shoes,
on frozen snow regularly harrowed for the purpose.
The ground is, however, mostly flat, without any
extent or variety of gallops. His breeding farm is
bordered by a noble river of great width, and in
summer, when the flies teaze the young foals to dis-
traction, they dash in and swim, while their dams
watch them placidly from the bank, and occasionally
join in the sport. If a ten-stone by five-feet-eight
figure is seen standing by, in a blue tunie, and trow-
sers tucked inside his boots, it is even betting that it
is the Baron himself, meditating on Moscow or Crena-
voy Meetings to come. Many of them have excellent
hind-leg action, and their owner invariably attributes
it to their early swimming habits. The brood mares
alone number about 160, some of which are still
unbroken, and most of them never trained. The blood
is, strictly speaking, a cross between the Russian and
Arab mares, and the horses imported by Govern-
ment—Memnon, General Chasse, Van Tromp, An-'
dover, &c. ; and the stock are generally browns, of
great length and on short legs, having all the Arab
deficiency of shoulder, but catching the Eastern cha-
Turf Worthies.
93
racter in their fine eye and small nostrils, and bearing
the Sir Hercules crest at the root of their tails. In
1859 his racing stud consisted of seventeen horses
in training, fifty brood mares, twenty-five two-year-
olds, nearly as many yearlings and foals respectively,
while Signal, Granite, and Bombardier were the princi-
pal sires, and the Signals his best racing stock.
The spring opens for training in April, Racing in
and early in June the racing season be- Russia,
gins at Moscow, where the Baron gives 500 silver
roubles in prizes. The Moscow Meeting then lasts
for a month ; they race for three days out of the
seven, and run off four or five races per day. The
Jockey Club, of which Baron Petroffski is an active
member, have a stand of their own, and the horses are
entered the night before at their rooms. There is very
little betting, and that has been principally introduced
by the English jockeys, who are, alas! too true to
their old Tattersall's instincts. The Toola meeting is
on July 8th, and on August 18th the one at Tsarskey
Sela begins. Lebedan, on September 12th, is the
fourth and last meeting ; and here, in 1859,
Petroffski " boy in yellow" literally carried off every
prize.
"*Of his training troubles, however, the Training
Baron shall speak for himself: "You Troubles,
like the horses of old stock," he says, in writing to
a friend, " and old form, just the same, which I prefer
to the new-fashioned, who win great races on a short
distance. Such a horse is the same as the card at the
play of bank, only by accident ready at time. I would
like very much to try the best English race-horse with
my poor fellows. I call my horses poor fellows. We
have only two months to prepare them for the races,
that is May and June. The horses are led 500 versts,
with all the road inconveniences. They change water
and food, and suffer much before they come to the
racing place. All that is not easy to support for a
94
Scott and Sebright.
racing horse. Our prizes are not worth carrying food
and water, and the horse itself in equipage. It would
be supportable yet to run once, having passed 500
versts, but they go again 200 versts and run, and then
again 500 versts, and yet 200 versts and run again."
The English Stud Book is his Koran, and in his
library may also be found every Racing Calendar and
Sporting Magazine that has ever seen the light. He
is himself an author, and has been at the pains of
publishing, in the Russian language, a most complete
synopsis of the celebrated stallions in England from
1811. It enters with the greatest accuracy into the
number of years they were at the stud, the price at
which they covered, and the dams of their most cele-
brated winners. Upwards of 135 paintings or engrav-
ings of racers and sporting subjects adorn his rooms;
and if there was an alarm of fire, we are afraid that his
valuable gallery of old Dutch and Italian masters
would be left to take their chance, till those dearly-
loved forms of Derby and St. Leger renown were safe
out of harm's way.
chapter II.
EXMOOR TO WIT.
" I ride as good a galloway
As any man in town ;
He'll trot you sixteen miles an hour,
I'll bet you half-a-crown ;
He's such a one to bend the knee,
And tuck his haunches in ;
And to throw the dirt into your face,
He never deems a sin."
Devonshire had done its best to The Road to
naturalize us. Its clotted cream Exmoor.
had appealed to our feelings through the tart and the
teacup ; and its junket had whispered " Stay !" We
had borne our part in our pleasant pastorals among
the deep shady lanes and orchard clusters of Barton.
We had viewed that grave Wittenagemote of the red-
line elders of the West, which met under old Frank
Quartly's picture in the black wainscoted parlour at
Champson, and arose from their rump cuts and cider,
to "try a fall" for the Flowers and the Pictures of that
grand old stock. Still the gipsy element of our nature
was strong upon us, and we longed to wander afield.
It may be that our labours had been too much in one
groove. After four long days among the cattle, we
might well wish for a change, and even consider that
Locke of Lynemouth, who roasted an Exmoor pony
for his friends after one of the Simon's Bath sales,
judiciously sympathized with Tartar tastes. Both
sheep and ponies acted as a magnet in our case. We
bade good-bye to our kind host and his chestnut hack,
without one ounce of saddle ache, as a forget-me-not
96
Scott and Sebright.
at parting ; and Flitton Oak, that far-famed tryst of
the Poltimore hounds was soon upon our lee. The
time of nuts was not yet come, and it was rather
exasperating to see them brush the gig with their
clusters as we toiled up the rutty lanes. Mist was
fast closing over the land of the Devons when we
reached North Molton Ridge, and then the long dark
line of forest wall bade us welcome to Somerset, and
the pony glories of its Exmoor hills.
Emmett's The lights in Emmett's Grange, about
Grange. a mqe the right, acted as a still more
cheery beacon, and the white gates, dotted here and
there, as guardians to the richly irrigated tracts, of
which Philip Pusey so loved to talk, told too surely
that the glorious days of hound and horse, when
" Fred Knight" led the field over Exmoor, will ere long
live only in hearth-side story, or the songs of the
Somerset dames. The Red men of North America
have already succumbed before the dread fire-water,
and the red deer are equally certain in their turn to
bow their antlered heads before Mr. Robert Smith and
his water-sluices.
Mr. Robert Ponies and mountain sheep were his
Smith s Cob first Exmoor aim, but as cultivation grew
Breeding. apacG) an(j irrigation laid its green velvet
hand on the meadows, where the rushy swamp and
the snipe had flourished amicably since the days of
William Rufus, the former gave way in the natural
order of things to galloways. The necessity of sticking
to mountain produce ceased, when only 250 acres out
of the 700 were left unenclosed ; and hence the only
ponies on the Emmett's Grange holding consist of
some twenty-five short-legged brood mares of about
thirteen-two. Three parts of the year these mares
live on the mountain land, while the farm is making
beef and mutton below, and supporting the Taunton
sale lot of that autumn to boot. Their foals are care-
fully wintered in paddocks with the yearlings, and if
Exmoor to Wit.
97
the weather is very severe, the two-year-olds have hay
as well. The paddocks are principally four acres in
extent; little open sheds, neatly thatched, nestle in
cunning nooks, to shelter the young stock, and when
its whole array is marshalled on to the lowlands, the
stud is about 120 strong. At first Mr. Smith used
neighbouring sires, among whom Old Port, the first-
born of Sir Hercules and Beeswing, had the lead, and
at length started on his own account with " Exmoor."
His dam was one of the seven mares, with hunting
blemishes, which migrated to Emmett's Grange from
Burley ; but they were all sold off with the exception
of a Redgauntlet, .after adding some high-priced
entries to the ledger.
The renowned fourteen-hand Bobby Bobby
then came from Dr. Beevor, for two sea-
sons, and won the Champion prize, and a two-guinea
bonus at " The Bath and West of England," at Barn-
staple. He looked more than his height, and the
officials measured him three times before the fourteen-
hand chain was allowed. The greybeards of Devon
were, one and all, amazed at his remarkable likeness
to the renowned Katerfelto of their youth. Both of
them had the same Eastern blood in their escutcheons.
Bobby could trace his descent through two degrees 011
his dam's side to Borax, who beat all the best horses,
under high weights, at Madras; and Katerfelto's
dam, after being stolen by some gypsies, was recovered
in foal with him to an Arab. Independently of his
fine stock, which is still referred to in nearly every
pedigree, Katerfelto was a mighty hunter, and earned
deathless glory, both for himself and his owner, a
lusty farmer, by taking the bit between his teeth on
the Barkham Hills, and carrying him bodily over a
twenty-foot gap in an old Roman iron mine. Bobby's
stock so far have almost invariably fallen bays, and
nearly all of them have a star. Twenty-five foals, with
their chubby chieftain " Master Bobby," from a black
H
98
Scott and Sebright.
mare were running with their dams, so that The Life's
query, " Where are the Bobbies ?" receives a highly
practical answer from Somersetshire. They are so
thick that the clerical visitor, who broke out into an
exclamation, "I can only describe them as bantam
cocks f" did not draw his description bow at a venture.
An Arab has succeeded Bobby, and if he only proves
a second Katerfelto, the day may come when the poet,
who summed up mere human felicity under six heads,
and placed "the gentle wife" behind "the haunch of
good buck" and " the glass of Madeira old," may feel
that the " Exmoor" has as good a right as the " Nor-
folk" cob, in the fifth.
The inn at The mist was thick upon Long Hal-
Simon's Bath. combe, and the rain was rattling down on
to the devoted " Bobbies" as we took our first glance
at Exmoor by broad daylight, and it seemed like an
act of sheer self-immolation to wander forth on the
hills that day. However, it cleared up towards ten
o'clock, and we were soon on our road towards Simon's
Bath Lodge. The most inveterate stickler for blood
would have been satisfied with his mounts, as
" Sambo," a grandson of old Beeswing, was alloted
us for the first day, this being " positively his last ap-
pearance" before his departure for Cornwall; and as
if to aid our Newcastle Cup recollections, we found
ourselves next day on " The Comet," a grandson of
Lanercost's—who was also fourteen-two, and from an
Exmoor pony dam. The original colour of the Ex-
moor seems to have been a buffy bay, with a mealy
nose, and it is supposed to have preserved its charac-
teristics ever since the Phoenicians brought it over,
when they visited the shores of Cornwall, to trade in
tin and metals. The climate was propitious ; and thus
the private sale at the Simon's Bath Inn gradually
became a sort of rustic fete. The aspirants to the Cann
and Polkinghorne line of business met there, and
showed rude feats of wrestling, not only with each
Exmoor to Wit.
99
other, but at the expense of the ponies, which they
seized and dragged out of the fold, with all a giant's
thew. " Seventy years ago, sir," said a bailiff to us, "there
were only five men and a woman and a little girl on
Exmoor, and my mother was that little girl. She drew
beer at the Simon's Bath public-house;—they were a
rough lot of customers there, I promise you." And no
doubt they were. The Doons who had retired to
Badgery, and carried out their Commonwealth yearn-
ings, by becoming the Moss-troopers of the West, had
taken their last leap from the cart, one after another,
at Taunton Assizes, or " saved their lives by dying in
jail." After them, the illicit love of mutton extended,
to spirits. Smugglers slung their kegs across their
" Scrambling Jacks" at night, and, if they did not care
to hide their treasure in the rocks, or leave it at a
certain gate, till the next mystic hand in that living
chain should give it his allotted lift on its road to-
wards Exeter, there were always friendly cellars under
the ale-house at Simon's Bath. The ale was decent,
and the landlady was judiciously deaf, and hence its
old ingle, where the date 1654 still lingers on a beam,
shorn or built into half its length, heard many a roy-
stering tale of prime brandy and extra-parochial enor-
mities, bad enough to make a beadle blush and an
exciseman groan.
The time of pony memory for all Origin of the Ex-
practical purposes goes back to Sir moor Ponies.
Thomas Acland, who rented a great part of Ex-
moor from the Crown. When it was disforested in
1818, the father of the present Mr. Frederick Knight,
M.P., bought the 10,000-acre Crown allotment, and
by the subsequent purchase of 6000 more, became
the owner of at least four-fifths. The ponies had for
some years past only fetched from 4/. to 61, and in
spite of " the anchor brand," and the death code, the
Exmoor shepherds took very liberal tithe of them, as
well as the sheep, and passed them at nightfall over
H 2
ioo Scott and Sebright.
the hills to their crafty Wiltshire customers. Sir
Thomas carried away his original uncrossed stock to
the Winsford Hills, and only about a dozen mare
ponies were left to preserve the line. Luckily, an
after-dinner conversation led Mr. Knight, senior, to
consider the great pony-question in all its bearings.
The party met at Sir Joseph Banks's, the eminent
naturalist, in the days when Soho Square was equiva-
lent to Belgravia in fashionable ears, and Bruce's
Abyssinian stories were all the rage. Passing from
live beef-steaks, they discussed the merits of the
Dongala horse, which " the travelling giant" had
described as an Arab of sixteen hands, and peculiar
to the regions round Nubia.
Sir Joseph proposed to the party to
get them some of the breed, and accord-
ingly Lords Headley, Morton, and Dundas, and Mr.
Knight then and there gave him a joint IOOO
cheque as a deposit for the expenses. The English
Consul in Egypt was applied to in due course, and
the horses and mares which he sent over bore out
Bruce's description to the letter. It was said that
they were got through the agency of a High Priest,
who " had his priceand after trying unsuccessfully
for two years, dissembled most artfully at the end.
The Moorish Princes felt that they had been duped,
and a century of bullocks was offered in vain as the
ransom. In addition to their fine height, they were
rather Roman-nosed, with a very fine texture of skin,
well-chiselled under the jowl, and as clear-winded as
all their race. Their action was quite of the " knee-
in-the-curb-chain " school ; and they had short thick
backs, and great hind-quarters. Still, there were
three or four points against these " gaudy blacks," in
the shape of flattish ribs, drooping croups, and rather
long white legs.
As manege horses they were perfect; and the dusky
Nubian, who brought them over, delighted to gallop
Exmoor to Wit.
101
them at a wall in the riding-school, and make them
stop dead when they reached it. About ten or twelve
arrived, and Mr. Knight was so pleased with them, that,
acting on the advice of the late Marquis of Anglesey,
who considered that they " would improve any breed
alive," he bought Lord Headley's share. Lord
Dundas bred a good many from his lot in Scotland,
and one especially nice white one sprang from the
stock. Mr. Knight's two sires and three mares were
brought to Simon's Bath at once, where he had estab-
lished a stud of seven or eight thorough-bred mares,
and thirty half-breds of the coaching Cleveland sort.
A dozen twelve-hand pony mares were also put to
one of the Dongalas, and the produce generally came
fourteen-two, and very seldom black. The first cross
knocked out the mealy nose, as completely as the
Leicester destroys the Exmoor horn; but the buffy
stood true to its colour, and thus the type was never
quite lost. The half-Dongalas did wonderfully well
with the West Somerset, which often came to Exmoor
to draw for a fox, and they managed to get down the
difficult hills so well, and crossed the brook so close
up with the hounds, that the vocation of the white-
clad guides on chase days gradually fell into disuse.
One of the Dongalas was never put to the stud, and
preceded the Quicksilver colts in Mr. Frederick
Knight's hunting stable. This cross-out was only in-
tended for size, and not for character, as no sire of
half Dongala blood was used, and the mares which
did not retain as much as possible of the Exmoor
type were drafted forthwith.
Pandarus, a whole-coloured fifteen-hand Thoroughbred
son of Whalebone, was the first important Crosses,
successor of the Dongala; but though he confirmed
the original bay, he reduced the standard to thirteen
hands or thirteen and a half. The fine breeding as
well as the " Pandarus bay" were kept up by Cano-
pus, a grandson of Velocipede, and while the experi-
io2 Scott and Sebright.
ment was in progress, the eolts were better wintered
on limed land, which enabled them to bear up pretty
well against the climate. When, however, the farms
were let by the present Mr. Knight, they had to go
back en masse to the naked moor, and then it
was found that even if the mares with the first
cross could put up with the fare and climate, they
grew far too thin to give any milk, while those which
were of the old stock stood it well with their foals.
Hence, about the year 1844, the whole pony stud
was remodelled, the lighter mares were drafted,
and Mr. Knight determined to stick henceforth to
his own ponies, with the buffy bay sire. So strict
has been this rule, that for many years, with the
exception of the chestnut Hero, whose massive form
and Pandarus dam preserved him from " Schedule
G," and the grey Lillias, whose original Acland
blood knows but little alloy, no other colour has been
used.
The First Pony They were disposed of by private con-
Sales. tract until 1850, when the public sales
were established. At the first, the whole of the hunt-
ing stock were sold along with some forty ponies.
Sir Thomas Sebright gave 16/. for a pony which had
rather a large-sized cross in him, and Mr. Pole Carey,
M.P., 41/. for three, which were an exact bay unicorn
match, with the exception of one slight star. The
hunters had long been under the charge of Robert
Milton, Lord Portsmouth's training groom, who
got old Tory and the other steeple-chase denizens
of the eight-stall stable, so well up to their " flag line"
form, and they fetched good prices, along with the
colts, which were principally of the Dongala and
Quicksilver blood. The stock of ponies was sold up
so close, that no more were brought out for sale until
the autumn of 1853, when Stony Plot, the knoll with
its belt of quartz boulders, on which the picturesque
new parish church stands, had a hammer auditory of
Exmoor to Wit.
103
two hundred. The average was an improvement over
that of other years; but the plan of selling in the
heart of the wilds was far too primitive, and in the
following autumn the venue was changed to Bampton
fair, fourteen miles nearer the rail. Then they were
broken and brought as far as Reading, with Kettle-
drum and Dundee, " names worth all the money"
(as the auctioneer observed) among them ; and after-
wards the foals were weaned in October, and fed
more highly, instead of running with their dams all
winter.
The pony stock in 1863 consisted of Mr. Knight's
about 400, of which nearly a fourth were Pony Stock-
brood mares, of all ages from one to thirteen. The
mares were put to the horses at three, and up to that
age they shared the 800 heather acres of Badgery,
with the red deer and the blackcock, protected on all
sides by high stone walls, which even Lillias, the gay
Lothario of the moor, could not jump in his moonlit
rambles. The average height was \2\ hands, but the
smaller mares were being gradually drafted. In order
to keep up the size, one hundred and thirty acres of
the pasture land and water meadows round Simon's
Bath have been taken in hand, to winter the foals and
weakly yearlings. The foals came in for the first time
in '59, and the effect upon the two-year-olds and
yearlings was most encouraging. This wintering
begins after the marking in November, Their Mode of
and the meadows are shut up for hay Life-
again on the 1st of May. The older ponies live on the
hills all winter, and seek the most sheltered spots
during the continuance of the wind and wet, which are
much more the features of the climate, than extreme
cold. These favourite nooks are well-known to the
herdsmen, who build up stacks of hay, straw, and
rushes, and dole forth their out-door relief over the
rails, without any regard to the Union dietary scale.
Still, like honest, hard-working labourers, the ponies
104 Scott and Sebright.
never assemble at the wicket, till they have exhausted
every means of self-support, by scratching with their
fore-feet in the snow, for the last remnants of the
summer tufts ; and drag wearily behind them an ever-
lengthening chain of snow-balls.
Habits and Bat- The bays and the buffy bays (a de-
ties of the sires, scription of yellow), both with mealy
noses, are in a majority of at least three to one, but
there are several browns and greys, half-a-dozen
blacks, and a few chestnuts, which have strained back
to their great grandsire Velocipede. They are
grouped about on certain hills, and " The Sparkham
pony" (a son of the beautiful mare Bay Lillias), soon
earned his name from such constancy. He won the
head prize at Barnstaple in '59, with Cheriton second,
and a Pandarus pony third, and the instant the three
shook off civilization and its halters on their return,
they galloped off several miles, as straight as a minie
ball, to their respective hills. The ten sires are all
wintered together in an allotment, until the 1st May,
apart from the mares ; but Lillias, who had more of the
old pony blood in him than any of them, twice
scrambled over at least a score of six-feet walls, and
away to his loved North Forest.
It is a very beautiful sight to see them jealously
beating the bounds, when they are once more in their
own domains; and they would, if they wore shoes,
break every bone in a usurper's skin. The challenge
to a battle royal is given with a snort, and then they
commence by rearing up against each other's necks, so
as to get the finest leverage for a worry. When they
are weary of that, they turn tail to tail, and commence
a series of heavy exchanges, till the least exhausted
pony of the two watches his opportunity, and whisking
round, gives his antagonist a broadside in the ribs,
which fairly echoes down the glen. In the closing
scene, they face each other once more, and begin like
bull-dogs to manoeuvre for their favourite bite on the
Exmoor to Wit.
arm. The first which is caught off his guard, goes
down like a shot, and then scurries off, with the victor
in hot pursuit, savagely "weaving," while his head
nearly touches the ground, and his "flag" waves
triumphantly in the air. With the exception of
Lillias, the ten were generally pretty content, each
with their one thousand acres of territory, and like
Sayers and Heenan they are ultimately " reconciled,"
—in November.
Stock is taken Of the whole in the Annual Marking
second week of this month, when the hills of the Hoofs,
are swept by the three "hard-riding Dicks," for a
couple of days, and the four hundred are brought into
a paddock at Simon's Bath in lots. The first process
is the separation of them into ages, and placing them
in distinct paddocks for marking. The foals are then
branded on the saddle place, with " the forest mark,"
which has been changed from the Acland anchor, to
the spur, which forms part of the crest of the Knight
family. It is burnt in with a hot iron, just sufficiently
to sear the roots of the hair, and no age eradicates it.
If a pony wanders away, and there is any dispute, the
hair is clipped off to make the identity more perfect,
and on one occasion a white sire was discovered by
the head herdsman's brother, after he had been lost
for three seasons. The spur has only one heel, and as
the brand can be made with the rowel pointing in
four directions (beginning towards the neck), on each
side of the pony, it coincides with an eight year
cycle, and serves as a guide, in case the foot-marks
are prematurely worn out. The foal is of course
not marked on the foot, but an exact record is taken
of his dam and all his marks, by the land-steward,
who stands book in hand under all weathers, for
at least a week, to act as the Weatherby of the
hills.
The mares then come under review, and if any are
absent, the stud-book tells its infallible tale. A mare
io6 Scott and Sebright.
and two yearlings were missing one November, and
the herdsmen set forth on their search so completely
primed with these stud-book data, that the two were
very shortly discovered. The register hoof-marks are
then renewed on the mares, &c., and the Dominical
letter of their year of entry is placed upon the year-
lings. The marks are twofold, to wit, that of the year,
which began with B in 1848, on the off hoof, and the
register figure of the dam from the stud-book, on the
near. They are marked as close to the coronet as
possible, as it is found that in all the ages, the hoof
has the faculty of reproducing itself in twelve
months. In the older ones it grows more rapidly,
and not unfrequently the spur mark has to be referred
to as a guide. The letters A and I have proved ex-
cessively troublesome, as the one broke away towards
the end of the year in the shape of a triangular
fissure; while the other merged into a species of
sand-crack.
Average of Under the old system, when the mares
Casualties. ancj their foals were never separated, it
was not unusual to see one of the matrons with
two or three of her progeny trotting after her, and
trying to get a stray suck; but since the foals were
weaned, and drafted into their Simon's Bath quarters,
the family tie is quite broken, and the new winter
associations foreshadow the hill groupings of the
summer. The percentage of deaths is comparatively
small, and during the winter of '59, when many of the
old ponies fairly gave in on the neighbouring hills,
Mr. Knight's mares fought through it, but five or six
of them died from exhaustion at foaling, or slipped
foals at ten months. Their greatest peril is when
they are tempted into the bogs about that period, by
the green bait of the early aquatic grasses, and flounder
about under weakness and heavy pressure, till they
die. The stud-book contains some very curious re-
cords, " Died of old age in the snow," forms quite a
Exmoor to Wit.
107
pathetic St. Bernard sort of entry. " Found dead in a
bogp has less poetry about it. " Iron grey, found dead
with a broken leg, at the foot of a hit If is rather an
odd mortality comment on such a chamois-footed
race ; while " Grey mare C 22, and grey yearling
missing ; both found, mare with foal at her footf gives
us rather a more cheery glimpse of forest history.
Will Court, the head herdsman, and his Th Hprd.mp
two aides-de-camp, Bill Shapland and
Will Scott, formed the staff of the pony department:
and the latter had been gazetted from the Scotch hills,
vice Jack Huxtable, promoted to be ground-keeper on
Larkborough and Badgery. Will Court had been
bred up among "our ponies" from a boy, and treated
"the droop-rumped mongrels" on the adjacent hills
with the most magnificent disdain. He was a perfect
Follett in his advocacy of "the old sort" on the review-
day, and unwavering in his fealty to Lillias as a lineal
descendant of the anchor brand. The trio had two
ponies apiece, besides occasional young ones in break-
ing; and Will's boast about Exmoor endurance re-
ceives strong confirmation from the fact, that his men,
who like himself were no feather weights, could ride a
pony incessantly through a ten-hour herding-day.
If we had prefaced all this pony lore a Ride by the
in the true G. P. James fashion, by saying Barle-
that it was morning, &c., and that two men on horse-
back were seen in conversation, as they wound their
way, &c., we should be pretty nearly describing our-
selves on Sambo, and our informant on the stag-loving
Rattler, as we rode towards Simon's Bath Lodge, with
a very promising sky overhead. There had been
nothing but a common-place succession of pasture and
moorlands, varied with " Bobby foals" and iron-ore
piles (which a private railway is destined to carry
Wales-ward to the Bristol Channel); but a turn in
the road brought us on to a sort of plateau, and re-
vealed the heather and gorse-clad rocks of Cornham
o8
Scott and Sebright,
Brake, with the Barle rippling quietly along its valley,
to join the Exe, near Dulverton.
A herd of nearly three dozen Devons were march-
ing in slow, Indian file along the opposite bank, and
foxhunters tell that nearly half as many cubs were " at
home" in the Brake, when the North Devon drew it
some seasons ago. Milton, by Old Port, whom Mr.
Knight has used for a good brown cross, was grazing
at the water's edge, with a pony mare of Burley and
Dongala blood. The patriarchs Hero and Nelson,
the son of the Forest prima donna Nelly, then told
by their joint pasture presence, .on the opposite side,
of the proximity of the Simon's Bath stables. The
renowned Pocket Hercules of Exmoor lifted his white
Velocipede forehead, and shook his shaggy chestnut
forelock more assiduously than ever into his eyes, as
he gave back an answering cheer to our Sambo ; while
the massive Nelson (whose sire pined himself to death
to escape the indignity of the breaking bit) ate calmly
on, as befitted the deposed head of the bufify bays, or
perchance reserved his greeting for one of his great
namesake's lieutenants, who had long since risen to
admiral's estate, and had just arrived, " as green as
grass," for a cruise among the hills, in his poncha.
On Exmoor day had quite broken long before
noon, and hence there was nothing for it
but to mount a military cloak, which the rain of the
tropics could hardly soak, and with a second com-
panion cased in oilskin, and on a bit of Dongala blood
at our side, and Will Court making strong running on
his pet sister to the Sparkham pony, we were soon
pointing across the deer park for the South Forest.
Hundreds of red and fallow deer used to consider this
as their sanctuary, but they have been shot or hunted
down, or have fallen back for a last stand amongst
the old haunts of the Doons of Badgery. The moor
was like a sponge ; but the clay pan which holds up
the peaty surface has since been broken by Fowler's
Exmoor to Wit.
109
subsoil plough, and a top-dressing of railway-brought
lime completed this great measure of Reform.
A perfect parliament of sale ponies, sixty strong,
was met at the corner of the South Forest, after the
most active whip on the part of Scott and Shapland,
who kept them steadily in position till we got up.
Some of the draft brood mares had foals at their sides,
and all the horse ponies dated from the May or June
of '56. Buffy Bay was quite in the ascendant, and
five or six Lillias greys formed that Stump element
which has hitherto given such pleasant character to
the thorough-bred Sledmere park troop. Some dark
browns added life to the whole, and one of them, with
a piece of bracken hanging carelessly in his mane
tresses, would have reminded us of Herring's fine study
of Muley Moloch and Rebecca. A solitary Devon
kept running among them, vainly claiming kindred ;
but their sympathies had evidently been too much for
a brown in his strangles troubles, as they had licked
his ears till they were raw, and the festering blast had
converted him into a croppy.
Our military-capped leader then gave Bringing up
the word for the North Forest; and in a the Ponies-
few minutes the whole troop were dispersed into little
friendly knots once more, while Will and Bill scoured
wildly away, with their whips aloft and driving their
brothers to Lillias and Tipton Slasher with as much
energy as if they were racing for life or a bride. The
office was, to gather the Sparkham and Pinfordponies ;
and, heedless of the Exmoor cavaliers, who dashed
carelessly down something very little short of a pre-
cipice, we accomplished a more cautious, but success-
ful descent in the neighbourhood of an iron mine,
whose water-wheel was lazily resting till the railway
era sets in. Once across the brook, in which our cloak
which already weighed some fourteen pounds, went
in gallantly for another, there were no obstacles on
the Honeymead and Warren farms. The latter is
I IO
Scott and Sebright.
said to have sheltered a banished lord, who beguiled
his unwilling martyrdom by breeding and eating
rabbits.
Not a trace of his furry fancy crossed our path ; and
in fact, throughout our entire stay, we saw neither red
deer nor " heather poult." A leash of wild ducks
certainly sailed far above us, into the Buscome mist;
while three other flying black specks were seen against
the outline of the horizon, in the shape of the two
Wills and Bill. In utter despair at their not bringing
up the Sparkham pony—the Barnstaple pet of his heart
—Will Court had gone off, with an expressive grunt
and a Chifney rush on " my Polly," into space, across
The Sparkham bogs and heather, to do the deed, or die ;
Pony- and we watched him as he made a series
of masterly casts on the Sparkham hill, with his two
whips waiting handy to turn them to him. It seemed
likely to be a twenty-minutes' job, at least; but as we
quietly rested in our saddle—on a knoll near the rushy
Pinford bottom, where Mr. Knight saw his first fox
found—(a small clump of rushes is often a sure Ex-
moor draw) a trampling behind us told that Will's
grand coup was achieved. Up came the Sparkham
pony, as if he had dropped from the clouds, with his
crest erect and his mane flying in the van, and, draw-
ing himself proudly into attitude for a moment, snorted
his defiance, and paced on to his companions. The
second prizeman, Cheriton, was not far behind; and
the Pandarus pony promptly ran alongside of him, as
if to move for a fresh trial on the points which so
puzzled the bench at Barnstaple.
The Doons of The bones of a pony, which the foxes
Badgery. and the ravens had pecked bare between
them, lay bleaching across our path, as we turned
for the Lillias hill. Badgery had been our original
point; and as the sun shone out for a brief quarter of
an hour, and just lit up the yellow surface of the
dying brackens, and tipped the grey boulders in their
Exmoor to Wit.
ii i
rich green setting, we felt inclined to make a pil-
grimage to its forty fillies, its desolate huts, and the
spot where the late Lord Alford got into a bog, and
named a pet Pytchley horse in its honour. How-
ever, the thin indigo haze on the Culbourne hills
behind soon died away; rain followed hard on the
train of the rainbow, which spanned the Doons' val-
ley; and Lillias was still unseen. A little chestnut
colt, " as thick as a bear," raised countless surmises,
as to whether he was one of the race of " Heroes
while Will and his men, with a most energetic vo-
lunteer on a chestnut to aid them, routed up the
crafty white from his lair, and drove him past at a
smart trot.
After this specimen of Will's " old sort," which has
no particular style about him, and looks, as they all
do, much larger on the heather than off it, we beguiled
the road home by seeing the little twelve-hand brother
to Tipton Slasher crawl up a six-feet wall like a cat,
after Bill Shapland, and trot away, seemingly " as
fresh as a kitten," after his eight hours' enjoyment of
something beyond a thirteen-stone hamper. The
Hero was waiting at the door of Simon's Bath Lodge,
to give its young heir his third taste of saddle-life,
as we passed it; and, leaving that last note to memory,
we shook up " The Comet " into a smart canter, and
chased the groom and our carpet-bag, over hill and
heather, to " the boat" at Lynemouth.
112
CHAPTER III.
TURF CRACKS.
" If our author had lived in the days of the Emperor who made his
horse a consul, he would undoubtedly have been the first to pro-
pose a vote of confidence in the Government."
County Rivalry T T is to the rivalry of the county fami-
in Arabs. J_ lies jn the three great Ridings of
Yorkshire, even in the days when they were up to
their very cruppers in politics, that we may be said
to owe the foundation of our finest English blood.
The cockfighter, who lies full length on the floor to
judge of his champion's action ; the naturalist who
nearly hatched a fowl's egg in his arm-pit; the
gardener " who sat up all night with a sick cactus,"
and the lunatic lady who, for six long years addressed
the editor of a stern. Radical newspaper weekly, as
" My dearest Alphonso," had not one whit more en-
thusiasm than these jealous vendees of Turks, Barbs,
and Arabians. "To winde their horn, to carry their
hawke fair," and to see Matchem Timms riding the pick
of their stables for the Gold Cup over Hambleton or
Rawcliffe Ings, made up no mean portion of their
ancestral pride. Timms went to glory on his own
hook with Bald Peg at Hambleton, but his finest vie-
tories were on the Earl of Carlisle's Buckhunter, by
the Bald Galloway. Not the oldest man who used to
totter to Castle Howard, year after year, in the begin-
ning of the century, to see the annual Buck's Head
run for by Levy Eckersley and other crack foot-racers
of Yorkshire, could remember that renowned chestnut,
whose half-sister Roxana was the first consort of the
Turf Cracks. 113
Godolphin Arabian. This foreign blood still flourished
long after 1770, and even Eclipse's 25-guinea Epsom
advertisement, and that of " Mask* sire of Eclipse—
witness my hand, B. Smith," are almost overshadowed
in the Racing Calendar by a cloud of Arabs. One of
them won the Arabian Plate at Newmarket, and
another had been presented by the Emperor of Mo-
rocco, " on a particular occasion, to Thomas Adams,
merchant of Rotherhithe, whose groom could be en-
quired for at the Europa Inn."
Such were the flea-bitten and "bloody- Indian Blood
shouldered" treasures which the East Sire Contract,
sent us, and it was not until 1861, in compliance
with Lord Canning's request, that the Indian Council
would export some young blood sires between fifteen-
two and three, instead of such half-bred, actionless
coachers, that we began systematically to pay back
our heavy horse debt to the East. Sir J ohn Law-
rence, Sir Erskine Perry, and Sir Frederick Currie,
three 01 the most "stable minds" of the Indian Council,
undertook, with Mr. Jex, V. S., of the First Life
Guards, the preliminary inspection of the twenty-two
which had been sifted by Mr. Phillips, during six
months, from upwards of 200. On the day after the
private inspection, in which two only were put back,"
the rest of the Council arrived at Willesden, headed
by the President, Sir Charles Wood, a right good man
with the Badsworth, and as fond as every other tyke
of the side of the horse ring. The Council did not
attend in the capacity of a Court of Error, but they
freely endorsed the choice which had been made.
Willesden Paddocks are very beauti- willesden Pad-
fully adapted for such an inspection. docks.
The place is so daintily kept, and the green ivy-
clustered boxes are so nicely interspersed among the
* Another reading of " Marske."
I
H4 Scott and Sebright.
foliage and the paddocks, where a choice Southdown
or a Leicester disputes the supremacy of the herbage
with a blood mare, that on a sunny day it reminds
us of one of Madame Vestris's drop scenes. We
had no need to dwell on the memories of Harkaway,
Charles XII., or Ratcatcher. Vandermulin and Elling-
ton were there in the flesh under the same roof where
Pyrrhus the First dwelt; and a little farther on, the
tortoise-shell cat, with the leather-collar round her
neck, was snoozing on the yellow sheet, which covered
the haunches of Voltigeur.
Voitigeur and When his friend is in the rack, the
Sir°Edwin horse will lift his head affectionately, and
Landseer. w-p crawi along his nose and neck to
the old spot ; and Sir Edwin was so delighted with
the partnership, when Lord and Lady Zetland intro-
duced him, that it furnished an idea at once for his
canvas. The groom, however, put in a special demurrer,
and convinced him, by removing the sheet and placing
the cat on the bare back, that she was far too particu-
lar to rest on that natural couch, and that therefore
painting her there was dead against nature. Fifteen
times did Voltigeur wend his way to St. John's Wood,
and his canvas carte de visite, which adorns the great
staircase at Aske, represents him as large as life, with
his liead down, whispering soft things to his furry
friend. Martha Lynn, along with Hersey and Birth-
day (dam of Lupellus) had departed after their visit
to Ellington, and therefore we had not the pleasure of
comparing sire and dam together; but the Lion
Rampant, the whilom champion of the carriage world,
passed the door just as we emerged (pulling at his new
mahogany-coloured water-cart with a vigour worthy
of the days when the most languid of the park strol-
lers would run to the rails to have a look at " Batthy-
any's turn out,") and we got up a pleasant contrast
between the two browns, so pre-eminent in their
peculiar spheres,
Tttrf Cracks. 115
About five-and-twenty men are em- TheWiiiesden
ployed about the spot, under Mr. Charles Staff-
Phillips, who acts as his cousin's secretary. Indepen-
dently of Mr. Phillips's own mares and foals, the stalls
and paddocks are seldom less than half-full. Some-
times a troop of blacks are there, waiting to be passed
for the Life Guards. Then there are chargers, hunters,
or brood mares, for the King of Italy, or some other of
the European potentates, resting a space before they
are shipped ; and Asia also takes her turn, as the Egyp-
tian cavalry contract brought up four hundred. New-
market, too, claims its place in the arrangements, and
we found some yearlings preparing for Mr. Saville's
trainer, and about, we trust, to follow in the footsteps
of Parmesan, who drew breath here. The little fellow
excited Mr. Phillips's attention so much by his action
in the paddock, that he pressed Mr. Saville to over-
look his lack of size, and buy him for 60 guineas, and
a contingency of half his first five races, which made
250 more.*
Besides Voltigeur, there were eight- The Selected
and-twenty sires in residence that day, Sires-
and the great majority of the Indian ones were on
ship parade. They had been duly physicked, and
cooled down with bran-mashes, and now they stood
side by side in blinkers, fastened with white pillar
reins, in order to drill them for the long voyage.
Seventeen of them " all in a row" in one stable, and
champing at their bits, was a sight worth remember-
ing ; but alas ! Field Marshal the Duke of Duty, a
chestnut with a very beautiful forehand, by Pyrrhus
the First, was sadly belying Mr. Hutchinson's nomen-
clature, and misconducting himself far worse than any
of them. Young Pyrrhus and Apollo were also there,
to keep up the Gully chestnut line; and the rare
* Nine years after this was written, Favonius and Cremorne brought
Parmesan into prominent notice as a sire.
I 2
116 Scott and Sebright.
jumper Eremite bore solitary witness for his Hermit.
Touchstone had only one son, Jasper, amongst them;
but in direct succession came Garibaldi and Volcano
by Orlando, Heart's Delight by Pontifex, and the
mouldy-looking Sermon by Surplice, the most beauti-
ful of the lot and the most uncertain in his temper.
Mr. Rarey had been with him; and his remembrance
of the system was still so keen, that he would go down
the moment his foot was taken up. Brown Holland,
with his dark glossy coat, was quite The Dutchman's
son, and there too was the sturdy little, white-maned
Lord Nelson, who would puzzle all the physiologists
to discover where his dashing mile talent could have
come from, unless they knew of his Collingwood and
Velocipede descent.
Bumble Bee was a good-looking relic of the glorious
days of Curraghmore, and beside him stood Young St.
Francis, with many traces of the old horse, who learnt
the language of the bit from Sam Chifney's hand.
./Ethiopian was one dark-brown level, from his ears to
his croup, as many of the Robert de Gorhams are
wont to be. Near him was Ryedale, long, low, and
untried, and dubious as to his paternity between
Vatican and John O'Gaunt. The Alderman by the
Knight of Avenel was so neat, that Tom Dawson
could hardly bear to let him go ; and Professor Dick
and young Marcian (h.b.) were of the hunting field
order; Belgium had furnished Namur by Corban,
with only three summers on his head, and Ackworth,
half-brother to Mincepie, and the best of the score,
carried the fortunes of Simoom.
On Shipboard. u Four grooms, two of them appointed
by the company (for Mr. Phillips s re-
sponsibility ceased the moment the horses were on
shipboard), and two of Mr. Green's men, went to
attend on them during their voyage. The stalls were
built in two lines between decks, with a gangway
separating them, to admit of exercise in fine weather,
Ttirf Cracks. 117
and were five feet wide, well-padded and laid down
with mats. The allowance for the ninety-five days
was iolbs. of compressed hay, 81bs. of oats, and i|
bushels of bran for each horse per diem. Twelve
loads of hay was the general supply, with 33 quarters
of bran, and 60 quarters of oats, the latter pure Riga,
and not Scotch " potato." The great London job-
masters have long held by the Riga, and old Bob
Newman used to say that his greys could face Barnet
Hill, and go the eleven mile stage in ten minutes less
time, when they were not stuffed up with that
"thick-skinned potato stuff." There was also *a
medicine chest, with a good stock of directions, and
as the horses were not allowed to lie down, stays were
provided, and adjusted so as to prevent the pressure,
which slings too often produce on the intestines. They
hang loosely when things are going right; and in case
of a horse losing his sea legs by a sudden heave, or
becoming unduly weary, he learns to drop and lie
upon them. The embarkation was managed nicely
enough; as they started from Willesden Paddocks
soon after daylight, with their twenty aides-de-camp
and a blacksmith. Their shoes were then taken off,
and after a little remonstrance on the part of Sermon
and Namur, they were all in position between decks
by eight o'clock.
The President of the Council, the examiners, and
others of the Board, looked in upon them once more,
and in ninety days their leagues along the watery way
were over, and the Pilgrim Fathers set foot on Eastern
ground, without one death in the lot* Young St.
* In Bengal there are two Government stud establishments—one
called "The North-west Stud," and the other "The Central Stud."
The former consists of two depfits—viz., at Hauppu and Scharunpore,
with a breeding district; and the latter of four depots—viz., Ghazee-
poor, Bunar, Kurruntadhee, and Poosah, also with a breeding district.
The North-west breeding district is conducted on what is called the
Zemindaree system. The mares belong to the farmers, but before
118 Scott and Sebright.
Francis, however, broke from his picket one night on
the way to his station, and dashed out his brains
against a wall.
Arabs in Eng- The prejudice against Arabs was not
land. lessened by the strange mixed lot which
were brought home after the Crimean war. About
that time, if you saw a crowd in the city, and a
turban elevated above it, you might be sure that it
was some unhappy native on an Arab, as damp as if
it had been dragged through a river. Those who
have passed their lives in India wonder why the
Arab sires will never take in England ; and others
wonder, in reply, why the " nabobs" who come over
do not give them the chance themselves, by buying a
being covered they are duly registered, and the man is bound to bring
the produce to the Deputy Superintendent when he goes on his yearly
tour of inspection. If the foal is approved of, and the price agreed
to, the foal is purchased, and goes into the Government depot at once.
If the foal is not approved of, it becomes the property of the farmer.
Formerly, when entire horses were ridden in the ranks (what a mistake
that was, by the way, and what thousands of pounds have been lost by
it, through not being able to make use of mares !), colts only were pur-
chhsed, fillies always belonging to the farmers ; now, however, fillies
are also purchased, if they appear likely to make troopers.
In the Central Stud the system is different altogether. There the
mares belong to Government, and they are given out to the farmers
at four years old under the following conditions :—The farmer signs a
bond that he will keep the mare in good condition, that she shall
want for nothing, that he will bring her and her foal for inspection
when called on, &c. ; and he has also to give a security; When the
mare comes in season she is covered by a Government stallion, the
farmer merely paying a groom's fee of two rupees, equivalent to four
shillings—as I dare say you know. Both in the North-west and Central
Studs the mares are classed to the stallions thought most fitted for them,
by the Deputy Superintendents in their yearly tours of inspection.
In the Central Stud the mares are inspected in the districts once a
month by the district officers, when their condition and everything con-
nected with them is noted down in a book kept for the purpose. Three
times in the year the Deputy Superintendent purchases the young stock
that are over seven months old. The prices vary from 7/. to 13/., being
never under the former or above the latter sum, and the following is the
system :—
It is considered that, as both the mare and stallion belong to Govern-
Turf Cracks. 119
few thorough-bred brood mares, and boldly leading
the way. Precepts fall dead from the lips of men who
have plenty of time and money, and yet dare not
back their opinions by stud practice, or claim the 321b.
allowance in the Goodwood Cup, or the 281bs. in the
Royal Ascot Stand Plate.
To judge from Mr. Wilson and his late Mr. Wilson and
fifteen-hand bay charge, Omer Pacha, at 0mer Pacha-
Althorp, the habits of some of these Arabs are
remarkable. This horse was ridden ninety miles in
one day, without drawing rein, by Omer Pacha's
messenger, with the news of the Russian repulse,
from Silistria to Varna; and although he was none
the worse, the unhappy rider died. Mr. Wilson does
ment, and she was classed to that particular horse by a Government
servant, if the farmer has invariably done justice to the mare and foal,
it is not his fault if the latter prove worthless, and consequently it is
a standing rule that if a man's mare and foal have always been mus-
tered good, he gets the highest price—131, for the latter, whatever it
may be like. If, however, the farmer has at any time neglected the
mare in any way, he at once forfeits this privilege. You may probably
think these prices low ; but when I tell you that if a man sells a foal
for 130 rupees (13/.), he can, without loss, keep the mare for three
years, even if she does not have another foal—in other words, that 13/.
will keep the mare for four years—you will, I think, consider the remu-
neration sufficient. When these foals are purchased, the colts go to the
Bunar and Kurruntadhee depots, from whence they are at three years
old transferred to Ghazeepoor, where they remain till they go into the
service at four years old. The fillies all go t« Poosah (there are gene-
rally upwards of 1500 there), and remain there till they are four years
old, when the best go into the districts as brood mares, the second-best
go into the Light Cavalry regiments and batteries, and the others are
sold in the Calcutta and other markets, where they realize fair prices.
The stallions are stationed in the districts, and each has about thirty
mares allotted to him. The situation of the stable of course depends
on the number of mares in the vicinity. At some stands there are six
stallions, at others only one.
Those horses that are now coming out will be kept in the depots
until they are in good condition, when they will be sent into the dis-
tricts ; but if, when the hot weather comes on, any of ,them show signs
of feeling the heat, they will be at once brought to the depot again.
From the 15th June till the 15th October all covering is stopped, and
the horses come into the depot.—Sporting Magazine.
I 20
Scott and Sebright.
not wonder at that, as he believes "that nothing
short of a cast-iron man could sit on him for six
hours." He certainly speaks from a pretty vast
experience, as he rode him out every morning on his
rounds. Their matutinal progress was not unfre-
quently marked by a succession of pirouettes. Owing
to his peculiar military training, he has acquired a
habit of always keeping a leg in reserve. If he is
cantering, it is with only three legs, and he is trotting
with the other; and then he will suddenly reverse
matters. Again, seized by a sudden fit of martial
enthusiasm, he would gallop across the paddock at
thirty miles an hour, then stop dead, and wheel round
on one leg for a pivot. He was given by Omer
Pacha to Sir Richard Airey, and was bought by the
late Lord Spencer for 200 guineas, quite weak and
almost hairless from the effects of the voyage. When
his present lordship gave up his stud, he was given
to his agent Mr. Beaseley, who has since let him
to Mr. Smith, to follow up the Katerfelto cross at
Exmoor.
Mr. Elliot on Mr. Elliot, late of the Bombay Presi-
Arab Champions, dency, in an article in the India Sporting
Review (1852), gives it as his deliberate opinion, that
up to that point the silver-grey Barefoot* was of the
purest Arabian blood he had met with. To The
Child of the Islands he assigns the palm of racing
* The following is the description given by Major Gwatkin of
Barefoot in 1828 :—Barefoot is of the Nedgdee caste, eight years old,
stands 14 hands 2 inches ; is a silvery grey, with a dark skin; blood
head, full eye, large thropple, light neck ; the shoulders are flat, with
the muscular lines very distinct ; withers well raised ; a good arm ; legs
flat, and the sinews large and well detached from the bone ; pasterns of
a moderate length. His back and loins are particularly beautiful, and
convey the idea of great strength. His quarters are finely turned
and very muscular. His temper is exceedingly good. When led
out to start, he appears to great advantage, full of fire, yet very tern-
perate ; and when at work no horse could evince more vigour and
determined courage.
Turf Cracks. 121
superiority at gst. 7lb. and under; and selects Elepoo,
whose race with the Cape horse Sir Benjamin, was
described in these terms—which, if they had been
embodied in a telegram, would have sorely puzzled
Lord John and the Foreign Office,—"Asia gave
Africa a stone and a beating," as the Champion of the
Heavy Weights. Taking, however, purity of breed
and goodness combined, there has, perhaps, been
nothing to beat Barefoot, who was imported in 1820,
and after running at Bombay, and Baroda, passed
over into the .hands of Major Gwatkin, and distin-
guished himself at Meerut and Cawnpore. He was
only fourteen hands two inches, and of the Nedgdee
caste, and his owner at one time intended to have
sent him to the stud in England, but Mr. Weatherby
did not think he would take, and dissuaded him
from it.*
Bagdad is the great emporium at Landing of Arabs
which the Arabs are collected for India, at Bombay,
and shipped thence to Bombay in droves of forty to
seventy, where the great dealers from Calcutta and
Madras await them. They begin to arrive about
October 1st, and never cease till the middle of March.
Formerly they used to come as threes and fours, but
of late years the system has been changed. The
buyers like them with more age on them, and they
require at least a year's seasoning before they can be
got into racing condition. From 6000 to 9000 are
landed at the Apollo pier annually, the majority of
them grey sires, which become quite white at eight.
The prices range generally from 45/. to 60/., but no
good charger for a I2st. man can be got under 100/.
to 150/., while a racer will fetch his 150/. to 250/.
The landing is a very picturesque sight, as the native
dealers in long yellow robes and turbans struggle with
* Mr. Elliott ranks Ruby next to Barefoot.
122
Scott and Sebright.
their charges on the landing boards, and hand them
over to little African boys, who flock down to the
pier, and ride them to the different stables with
nothing but a halter.
Many of them have never seen a carriage in their
lives before, and there is not unfrequently some
terrible devilry among them in consequence. They
rush from one side of the street to another, till they
are one" mass of foam, and occasionally dash headlong
through the Bazaar, and perhaps kill a child. The
voyage varies from thirty to seventy days, and reduces
some of them to mere grey ghosts. Very few mares
come, and those are generally barren. Their food on
board consists of barley and dates, and what with
this, day after day, following on their bad pasture,
they get sadly heated, and their legs fill. Barbadoes
aloes, and a little soap and ginger, is principally given
them on landing, and it not unfrequently removes , a
plate of pebbles, which they have brought inside
them, as a most appropriate memento from Stony
Arabia. Their food is changed to gram, which is a
species of pulse, and very much resembles dry peas.
It is so apt to ferment in the stomach, that it is not
possible to give them very much of it, and it is
usually mixed with English oats, which are very much
better than the oats of the country.
p . . T Madras used to be the Newmarket of
Racing in India. T .. , . _ ^
India, and its success from 1826-38 may
be fairly attributed to the energetic system of the
late and 'Tanlcy Will Hall," who was then training
for General Showers. Till 1838 no Arab had ever
run two miles under 3 minutes 54 seconds ; but at
Madras in the January of 1838, it was first done in
3 minutes 51 seconds, with 7st. I2lb., by the bay four-
year-old Samnite.* The courses are measured to a
* It has been done three times since, in 3 min. 48 sees.
Turf Cracks. 123
yard, about twelve inches from the inside, in order to
make the time test as perfect as possible. Racing at
Madras is in a great measure a dead letter now, and
the authorities have rather set their faces against the
sport everywhere, on account of the great amount of
gambling which went on. Calcutta and Barrackpore
were the worst in this respect, and the system of
lotteries (which is somewhat elaborate and rather
different to ours), had grown to such a height, that at
times a lac of rupees (10,000/.) would be depending
on the issue of one race. There are still 100 courses
in India, the principal of which are Bombay, Poonah,
Mysore, Baroda, Guzerat, Calcutta, and Cawnpore.
General McDowell had seldom less than fifty Arabs
in training; Colonel Macleane had also a large
string, and the late Sir Walter Gilbert's was very re-
nowned at Cawnpore. In Calcutta they begin to
race at seven in the morning, but have to wait till
nine, sometimes, on account of the fogs; while at
Madras and Bombay they begin at three or four in
the afternoon.
The " Bombay ducks " consider their racing season
to extend through January, February, and part of
March. Heats have been abolished; from four to
six races' are run off in an afternoon, and seldom
more than eight or nine start in each. The Maiden
Plate at Bombay, for horses imported the previous
year, generally ensures a capital start, and as there
are sometimes seventy subscribers, it has been known
to reach 1200/. The course on which it is run is
circular, about a mile and a half round, and very
flat and hard, as in portions of it there are not more
than eight or nine inches of soil above the rock.
Arabs and Mahrattas and Parsees all look after
the racers in the stables, and lead them at exercise
for about three-quarters of an hour before they
gallop. The native jockeys (which have been of late
years nearly superseded by English ones), are prin-
124
Scott and Sebright.
cipally Mahrattas, and ride to the course on their
hacks in true English style; and as a general thing,
they do not extend their circuits out of their own
presidency.
Breeds and Pe- Arabs are invariably quick beginners,
cuiiarities of as most horses with hocks well under
Arabs, them are, and it is generally a case of
trying to cut down each other from the very post. In
point of speed they are not remarkable ; but their
forte is to keep up to the very " top of their foot" for
two miles. Their legs are very good naturally, and
none the worse for being calf-kneed ; but the fetlocks
often become ossified with hard work on hard ground.
Some of them will run three seasons in this state, and
the excessive stiffness only seems to tell against them
by their getting off from the post rather slower. As
hacks they are inferior, and often stumble most dread-
fully. One of their greatest peculiarities is, that
owing to their compact form, their over-stepping
sometimes goes to the extent of fourteen inches,
whereas the English horse seldom does more than just
clear his fore-foot print. The Arab dealers lay great
stress on this talent, as indicative of the highest racing
capacity. With respect to carrying weight, the real
test is whether the shoulder is well laid, and the girth
deep. Hog hunting is quite in their way, and if their
master is a cool hand (which they very soon find out),
they are not long in learning how to turn with the
boar, and receive his charge with the most unflinching
courage. The most approved colours are bays and
light greys, and in the case of the latter, it is easy to
tell from an examination of the subtle red and black
shades under the skin, whether they will be silver grey
or flea-bitten ; and the tendency to the latter coat de-
velopes itself very distinctly at four years old. If the
Arabs have a golden chestnut, they love the accom-
paniment of a blaze, and four white stockings.
The two principal tribes are the Aneza, in the
Turf Cracks.
125
centre of Arabia, and the Nedgdee, so called after the
capital of Stony Arabia. Several of a distinct tribe
are bred at Bagdad ; but although they are very
handsome and showy, they are hardly so pure in
blood, and seldom stay a distance so well.' The
Aneza horses have very great endurance, and during
the last twenty years they have gradually got ahead
of the Nedgdee, which scarcely ever exceeds fourteen-
two, while the Aneza is seldom less than that, and
occasionally reaches fifteen. Both are fine in their
tempers, though, perhaps, the Nedgdee has the pull
in this respect. The Anezas are mostly bays and
chestnuts, whereas the most famous Nedgdee tribe of
Saglowdie is almost invariably grey. As regards the
heads of these desert' rivals, that of the Aneza horse
is the least pure of the two, and there is, perhaps,
a cross of the Turcoman (native dealers say the
English) horse in it, which makes the head larger
and more Roman-nosed, though the eye is equally
good.
In this point, the Nedgdee is remarkably beautiful,
and retains the small head, fine eye, neat ears, and
clean jowl of his patrician race ; and as a general rule,
these two tribes are not crossed with each other. One
of the leading marks of the, pure Tricks of Native
Nedgdee, is the line at the root of the Dealers,
ear, arising from the practice of sewing the ears
together when they are young. As this point is
always looked for by purchasers, the dealers take care
not to disappoint them, and a hot skewer makes a
very fair fac-simile of it. In the Aneza, a white mark
above the near hock, caused by the chain attached to
the fore-leg, which prevents them from straying in the
desert, has been almost made a sine qua non, since
Major Seaton first noticed it; but the " Fort Adju-
tant's mark" gradually came up in horses of apparently
such coarse caste, that forgery and friction had no
doubt been at work.
126
Scott and Sebright.
The Early Eng. Horizon, the first of the Eclipses, came
lish Cracks. out in 1774, and Competitor, the last of
them, died towards the close of 1816. Neither the
late Mr. Kirby, nor any other of the Turf patriarchs
we have talked with, could remember seeing the
mighty chestnut, and we have therefore no fresh tra-
ditions, wherewith to rush into that profitless contro-
versy which rages at intervals over his bones. Good
old Sylvester Reed is also gone ; but many a little
hint of his, on man and horse, is scattered through
these pages. Of Champion, he was wont to say, that
he showed remarkable breeding, and had no coarse-
ness about him, except his lop-ears. Hambletonian,
„ ,, , . although " more of a harness horse," was
Hambletonian. 53 . > .
another of his boyish darlings. llus
horse was not thought much of as a yearling, when he
was in the paddocks at Shipton, with Beningbrough,
and his mares were his best runners. In his seventeen
starts he was never beaten but once, and then he
jumped the cords ; but his sister Gipsy gained a most
unhappy notoriety, by throwing George Herring (who
won nineteen races in succession) three times at Hull,
in 1796, and killing him at last on the spot. She was
sold as a maiden to Russia, and there have been no
races at Hull since.
Mr. Reed's invariable story of Crowcatcher, whom
John Smith at John Smith insisted on so naming, when
Streatiam. ^e had seen him deftly behead a wool-
stealer in ipso facto, led us insensibly on to the Streat-
lam stud-. It is quite the oldest in the North, and
well has it held its ground. John Smith entered the
tenth Lord Strathmore's service in 1795, and was with
him-till 1808. Before this, his lordship had quite a
small stud at Esher, near Kingston, and Pipator, one
of Lord Clermont's. breeding, and Queen Mab, the
"I see Queen nursing mother of the stud, both came
Mab has been from there. Queen Mab was by Eclipse,
with you." from a Tartar mare, and the youngest of
Turf Cracks. 127
the ten chestnuts, five colts and five fillies, with Jupiter
and Mercury among them, which her dam threw to
Eclipse dn 1772-85. Some would have it that she was
foaled when the Tartar mare was thirty-six ; but
Isaac Walker, after making himself, as in duty bound,
a perfect Strype on the subject, cannot find that she
was more than twenty-seven.
She was trained at Epsom and Newmarket, butu
like one of Captain Meynell's (who had four years of
it on the Warren Hill) she never started. Lord
Strathmore gave 2961. for her, and she was sent, in
1795, to Tattersall's; but as 180 guineas was the
highest offer, she did not change hands, and com-
menced a three hundred mile walk, to Gibside. As
regards her looks, Isaac has all the facts and figures of
the thing, down to " white nearly up to hock on near
hind leg, and a few white hairs close to hoof on near
forefoot, &c.but it is enough for us to know that
she was a thick and lengthy fourteen-three chestnut,
with white mane and tail, and wide drooping ears.
Her Remembrancer by Pipator won the St. Leger in
Ben Smith's hands, and Cassio by Sir Peter, who was
born when she was a desperate sufferer from a
gathered udder, ran second to Fyldener, and per-
formed most brilliantly the following year. It was,
however, through Remembrance by Sir Solomon, and
Oblivion by Jerry, that her blood descends in female
tail to Forget-me-Not, the dam of Daniel O'Rourke.
The three other "hlue ribbons" of TheQueenMab
Streatlam, only inherit a strong collateral Family at
dash of her blood through her dark Streatlam-
chestnut nephew Hermes by Mercury, from a Wood-
pecker dam. He went blind from inflammation, at
Winchester races, and Lord Strathmore rode him
hack, and drove him in his curricle. John Smith was
wont to say, that he never rode a faster trotter, and
bade the farmers be of good courage, and not mind a
fifteen-shilling fee, Hermes died at Gibside in 1814,
128 Scott and Sebright.
but not before he had united the Eclipse and High-
flyer strains in his Gibside Fairy, from Vicissitude by
Pipator. From the cross of this bloody-looking
brown and Whisker, came Emma, the dam of Mundig,
Cotherstone, and the grandam of West Australian,
and as Isaac triumphantly observes, " There we have
it." Vicissitude was foaled at the paddocks, and was
forfeited with her dam to his lordship, because her
owner left her till the expenses of the keep were far
beyond her seeming value. She was the grand-
daughter of Pyrrha, the produce of those two Nor-
thumberland flyers of Mr, Fenwick's, of whom a
highly equitable poet observes, in allusion to there not
being the weight of a stable-key between them,
" Matchem he was the best of all,
But Duchess the flower of By well Hall."
s treat lam In 1808, John Smith went to the Mar-
Trainers. qUjs Qf Queensberry, as stud-groom, in
Scotland, and from thence with his lordship's horses to
Middleham. Dunn succeeded him as trainer at Streat-
lam, and then Charles Marson, who trained for his
lordship till he died, and afterwards entered the Mar-
quis of Exeter's service, taking with him a 2000-guinea
colt, by Ardrossan from Vicissitude. After him there
was no more training at Streatlam, and a riband of
rather greener turf in the park still faintly marks the
course, over which he worked the Remembrancer
stock, with Lord Foley and Sir John Shelley to look
on during the grouse season.
Isaac Walker at Independent of all this Turf heraldry,
Home. the spot is as beautiful a one as you may
find in the county of Durham. A large herd of
Argyles formed a red, black, and cream array, as they
gathered beef in the park, where the Pipators and
Remembrancers got rid of it. A herd of fallow deer,
which had months before
" Hung their old heads on the pale,"
Turf Cracks.
129
were sauntering past the boxes of the fated Night-
watch and the bay filly, Culotte de Peau, a name just
fresh from Paris, and over the meaning and pronuncia-
tion of which we found Isaac fiercely struggling for the
mastery, in the recesses of his saddle-room. Among the
inner and outer treasures of that cupboard were
Obadiah the Quaker musing on the future ; and the
Doncaster return sheet of The West's year in full.
There, too, were the gilt plates of that hero, while one
of a larger size represented Mundig. Isaac himself
went as a stripling to Mr. George Lane Fox's, of
Bramham, and first visited Newmarket, in charge of
Macduff, when he beat the Duke of York's Moses, the
Derby winner of '22. After a few years there with
Bloss, he joined Perren, of Settrington, and putting
into Hambleton, in stress of weather, with Euphro-
syne, Macduff, New Baith, and Sir Tatton's Nego-
tiator, he first saw his future ally, John Scott. It
was a rare harbour of refuge for Yorkshire trainers in
hard weather ; and there, too, among others, came
Dicky Shepherd, with Muta and Manuella, and Bobby
Pettit, with Sir R. K. Dick's Ajax and Euphrates.
After this little interlude, near " the white mare of
Whissencliffe," Isaac lived three years as pad groom
to Mr. Bowes at Cambridge ; and when isaac-s intel-
that gentleman sat-for South Durham, in views with Will
the first Reform Parliament, he still held GoodalL
his post. He met Will Goodall, who was there on
duty for Mr. Drake, and " on the other side of the
question," night after night, under the St. Stephen's
horse shed ; and when their minds, like the Laird of
Cockpen's, were not " ta'en up wi' affairs of the State,"
during a great division night, they exchanged many a
reflection on horse and hound. Isaac's father gave
up his place soon after ; but he lived to see his son
hold it in his room for exactly a third of a century.
The earliest stud recollection of the The streatiam
latter was seeing his father help to drag Paddock Pets-
K
130
Scott and Sebright.
out Hermes from his box, to be buried under the
hawthorn, close by the precipice of the Lune bank, to
the side of which he had galloped even in his blind
days, and stopped short like a manage horse. A few
nettles close by bloom over Pipator and Queen Mab ;
and the paddocks in which their progeny roamed, still
flourish, guarded by those thick holly hedges which
the stable lads planted, and John Smith watered with
such care. The stones for their high walls came from
the old buildings, and Frank never failed to tell Isaac
that he knew he " shut up his yearlings for another
twelve months, if they were not big enough, and only
brought them up honest if they were." The West's
paddock is generally reserved for the crack of the year,
but Welcome and Ratomski were its doubtful denizens
of 'Sixty.
Among the mares, which were a little further on,
The Flapper looked like a lengthy, lame poster, and
Mowerina, an own sister to Cotherstone, with her
chubby-headed old Orange Girl at her side, was quite
light enough below the knee. Still there can be no
doubt, if you look at her, whence The West catches
his beautiful head and shoulders, and Isaac observes to
us, as he tenderly passes his hand under her jowl, that
" she has no chance of roaring when the machinery is
so clean." The year that she went to Bay Middleton
she was his only thoroughbred mare, and she lost her
colt foal, owing to the man in charge turning idle and
riding her for fifteen or sixteen miles. Forget-me-Not
was there, with the first and last foal by The West
they ever had at these paddocks ; and when Isaac is
called on for the other curiosities of his Streatlam ex-
perience, he will tell you that Balderdale and Lune-
dale have been the only roarers on the place, that in
Cotherstone's year all seven mares produced colts, that
he never had twins except the brothers to Klarikoffi,
and that Gibside Fairy carried Emma for a twelve-
month and a day.
Turf Cracks. 131
Phenomenon had the honour of making The Yorkshire
roaring as fashionable in the North, as Greys,
the stock of Cervantes made two-year-old running.
Delpini filled it with rather leggy greys, most of which
could go four miles. He was the sire of Mr. Gar-
forth's Vesta, who, with her dam, Faith, and her half-
sister Marci'a, formed the most beautiful trio of greys
that ever adorned a stud, Mr. Pierse's not excepted.
There were three Delpini greys amongst the eight St.
Leger starters in Beningbrough's year; and his grey
Symmetry soon afterwards proved his claim to be the
sweetest-looking colt that ever won that Delpini of the
"race. Delpini himself was very closely WooiiyCoat.
allied to the Arab in his look, light-bodied, and with
a prominent eye and head, which told of desert
descent; and even when he was wasted almost to a
skeleton, he miraculously retained his beauty. During
his last three years, he never shed his coat, and be-
came like the woolly child of caravan lore. The fact
was so well known in Yorkshire, that when an old
gentleman with very long white hair sat on the Grand
Jury for the first time at York, and went up to the
foreman to pay his footings, there was heard this pretty
audible aside from one of them, " Here comes the Del-
pini colt."
Golumpus was the first sire Sir Tat- Turf Doings at
ton ever used, when he began to keep a siedmere.
few mares at Westow, and Siedmere, by Delpini from
a Gabriel mare, who went to Sir Bellingham Graham
for 800 guineas, was the first good sale he made.
Half of this horse belonged to Sir Mark, who had four
or five brood mares at Siedmere in 1804, and among
them the sisters Miss Teazle Hornpipe and Miss
Hornpipe Teazle by Sir Peter from a Trumpator
mare. Both of them were sent to Sancho, and they
returned in foal with Prime Minister and President.
The former beat Tramp, after a most desperate finish
in the Four-year-old Subscription at York, and the
K 2
132
Scott and Sebright.
latter was a little brown horse, which passed into Sir
Tatton's hands, and was given by him to an earth-
stopper. To the donor he proved rich treasure-trove,
as he soon ranked next to Screveton in the North
Riding's eyes, and nearly all the young things were
fathered on the pair. The Sledmere horses were then
trained at Marramat, by George Searle, and while
Mr. Bethell, of Rise (who was confederate with Mr.
Pratt) confined his racing nomenclature to Green-
gage and other fruits, Sir Mark bethought himself of
the Knights-of-the-Round-Table, and went in for
Sir Sacripant, Sir Bertram, Sir Marinel, and the like.
Sam Chifney in Sam Chifney, who had attracted his
Yorkshire. notice at York, was engaged as jockey
at ioo/. a-year, but his dawdling ways were against
him, and he was spoken of, in the Sledmere stable, as
" the long, thin, lazy lad." As he lived at Newmarket,
a hack had to be sent over frequently by appointment
to meet the coach at Malton, and as often as not it
returned without him. When Woldsman was to be
tried for his Shuttlecock match, over Knavesmire.
Sam kept Sir Mark and his brother waiting three or
four hours, and then arrived a stone over weight, from
a venison feast.
After his discharge on the trial morning, Garbutt,
who was, like Snarry, a lad with Searle, rode occa-
sionally for the stable; but J ackson got the best
mounts, and never showed finer horsemanship than
when he met Petronius with Theresa, at York.
Camiiius and Sir Mark gave 500 guineas for Camil-
stumps. lus by Hambletonian from Faith, and
kept him for eight or nine seasons, till he died. He
was barely fifteen-one, and full of Arab quality, and
his portrait, with the old coachman at his head,
forms one of the Penates at Sledmere. One of his
fillies was the dam of Negotiator by Prime Minister,
a strong, useful horse, but rather a rambling goer, and
sold to Lord Kennedy for 700 guineas, at three.
Turf Cracks.
133
Stumps by Whalebone was the first sire Sir Tatton
ever bought, and he combined his favourite fifteen-
two standard, with rather light bone, and an aptitude
lor heats, in which he had beaten Goshawk. He had
Delpini's style of head, and it was from his light fore-
legs, and his stumped-up way of going on them, that
he acquired his name.
Two hundred guineas was his Doncaster price, and
he was finally given away after five seasons to a
tenant in Holderness. His end was a Death of
sad one, as he broke v away from his Stumps,
leader, who was in his cups, and caught a fatal in-
flammation from wandering up and down a field in
a rainy night, with his sheets dragging at his heels.
But Snarry in his snow-white jacket An Afternoon
must step forward now, ashen plant in with Sir Tatton
nand, like the Chorus in the play, and and Snarry-
tell his experience of Sledmere past and present.
The inspiriting presence of Dick Stockdale, more
deep than ever in the Maroon faith since he became
his own, was not wanting that day. Both openly
and by implication he set forth his praises. We heard
of high stepping bays by him, which had worked
their way into the Royal Mews, and again that
mysterious story of a presumptuous rival, who only
lived to break two men, and well nigh caused another
to hang himself. And so, passing for the present,
over Daniel the delight of Snarry's Di lomatic Re_
heart, Colsterdale with whom he has lation of Snarry
never held more than an armed truce, aadre sire?"
and Fandango towards whom he has al-
ways preserved a highly dignified neutrality, we com-
menced our journey with The Dialls field. It was
high-tide with The Lawyer that summer and Snarry's
Manchester Examiner was perpetually bringing good
tidings. As luck would have it, his dam stood fore-
most among the eleven mares ; and our interpreter
spake on this wise.
134
Scott and Sebright.
The Diaii's " That's Lawyer's damshe's by Hamp-
Field. ton, dam by Cervantes, great grandam by
Smasher. Lawyer'd have been a lost horse if he'd
not been sold at York; he's just got hold of four
Queen's Plates in four days. They rode her at
Birdsall when the hounds went there, hunter and
hack occasionally. That's a half-brother to him by
Caster, that chestnut Sir Tatton's on now; Mr. Sykes
has another of them in London. The old brown horse,
he was shot last week, not very safe at last, he'd
carried Sir Tatton sixteen years. I thought I was
right on that point, however ; I don't think he ever
had a name. Hampton ?—yes, we must go back a
bit; he'd be by Sultan out of Sister to Moses ; we
had him first in '38 ; his mares are going off now,
Lord Westminster had him ; gave 600 guineas for
him at the Hampton sale; he was a chestnut; he got
us short-legged, strong chestnut mares ; Sir Tatton
gave three hundred for him ; he was a slow beast, did
us a deal of good for all that. Cervantes ! you want to
know about him ? he was a compact-looking horse ;
not so very big ; they were pretty fair stayers. That's
a Fernhill mare, we had him a season. That's sister
to Odd Trick by Sleight, she's got the best foal here,
that's by Daniel. That's Thornhill's dam ; hers'll be
by Colsterdale ; like him too ; second best foal, but a
long way behind. We've thirty or forty Colsterdales.
That's Grey ling's dam there, and, sister to Jack Frost,
both by Sleight. They've each got one, so has the
Jereed mare. That's a Knight of the Whistle ; she's
one of the best bred ones in England, I'll be bound
for it; her foal's by Daniel, and a very good one it is.
We had a good way on to a hundred foals, five double
ones, seven or eight mares slipped, and some not put
to. That mare's by Hampton, dam by Young Phan-
torn out of sister to Barefoot, she's the prettiest mare
we have.
" This is Swale's Wold; that will be an ash belt, oaks
Tttrf Cracks. 135
don't manage much of a tap-root in Swale,s Wold>
these parts. We've four Fernhill mares
here; that's one of them, the chestnut; let me see,
she's by Pyrrhus from Odd Trick's dam; a Daniel
foal too, such a thick one. Pyrrhus was only here
one season, and left us large chestnut mares. That's
a Burgundy : we'll not say much about her looks,
rare bred un for all that, out of a Muley Moloch
mare, the foal's a Colsterdale ; got his hind-legs to
a shaving. Do you mean that white-faced one
on the heap ? Algebra, best of Mathematician's
get. Poor Mr. Drinkald, he would send him : she's
got a chestnut filly by Daniel, bloody-looking—the
white-faced one, I mean. They're ten foals here, all
of them fillies. That's a Caster mare, Colsterdale
again, and very like him. We had Caster seven or
eight seasons, I think you'd put thirty to him one
season, Sir Tatton ; aye ! it would be fully that; he
was a thick, short horse, got us little stumpy mares,
we've very few of them. That mare's off sister to
Spotted Boy's dam;— * * * Yes, it's a good
cow, I question whether we've a better about the
place.
"They call this The Cottage Pasture. The Cottage
There are the mares among those white Pasture,
thorns in the slack : sister to Sauter le Coup, she's a
beautiful mare by Sleight of Hand out of Black
Tommy's dam ; we bred him, he was second for the
Derby. That Orlando-looking colt's out of her own
sister, and her first foal; you needn't ask if it's a
Daniel, when we see the legs and limbs. Yon brown
mare, she's by Sleight out of Darling ; a grand mare ;
we've best mares of anybody's, I don't care where
they are, we can challenge any stud in England with
our Sleight of Hand mares ; bring what they like,
we'll meet them. That's a Stumps mare, as like the
family as aught we have; he had sweet legs and
hind-quarters, his fore ones wern't much to crack of;
136
Scott and Sebright.
she's got a grey, short-looking Daniel; it may make
something yet ; from grey mares Daniel gets as many
grey as anything ; we've put her to' Fandango,—he's
rather starved Daniel; that Stumps mare Wicket we
had, she scratched her hip with a nail in the railway-
box, and died of lock-jaw. This will be as good as
ever she was. That's a Pyrrhus mare, dam by Sleight
of Hand, she's sister to Baronet. Colsterdale, he got
them half chestnuts the first go off; after that more
bay ones.
Cherry Wood "We're coming into Cherry Wood
End- End ; there are five mares, all of them
with fillies; three whites among them. That's Pan-
mure's dam by Stumps ; we had Stumps six or seven
years ; he'd be fifteen-two, Sir Tatton, and not very
good measure either; we've a granddaughter of
Wicket, she's had nothing that's come to hand
yet; Monge's dam by Bay Middleton, she's another
of the whites ; and that mare by Sleight of Hand
dam by Cervantes, grandam by Young Phantom, we
call her blue grey. That great, stout-bodied mare,
she's sister to Grey Tommy by Sleight of Hand ; Mr.
Drinkald bought five or six that turn. The brown
mare next her (the Colsterdale's a twin), she's by
Sleight of Hand, dam by Comus, grandam by Go-
lumpus. We've most stout mares by Sleight, he got
us nice bays and browns; St. Giles is from them.
Sleight of Hand, he was as narrow as a rail across the
hips; he hit with the Hampton's, they're low and
wide, with wonderful fore legs, and the Comus mares.
Mr. Scott said he was good, but a bit delicate—
bloody head and neck. Sir Tatton and Mr. Osborne
were a long time over the bargain, it went on nearly
all the Doncaster week—325 guineas at last; he was
a cheap horse to us. We had two Comus mares last
year, one's put down and one's dead ; he got foals, did
the old horse, when he was twenty-eight ; he got us
chestnuts with white legs ; he had no white himself;
Turf Cracks.
*37
Sir Tatton hired him for six seasons. Grey Momus,
he was the pick of the basket, he was from a Cervantes
mare. Many Comus mares are grey, they get it from
Camillus,—he got them grey ; Cervantes's and Young
Phantom's, they come bays. Young Phantom never
got us a chestnut; he was half Bill Scott's ; lame at
three years old, though ; he got his foot into a rabbit
hole; Comus never had a spavined one, and only
one ring-bone that I know of.
"You'll know Craggs Flat again, we The Craggs
put the cracks here ; all colts looking Flat-
like yearlings and all chestnuts but "one ; five Colster-
dales and two Daniels. They're very forward pas-
tures ; there are two black lambs to make stockings
of. That chestnut mare's by Sleight out of sister to
Hamptonia ; she only lived to have a colt and a filly ;
that's the filly. The pretty dark chestnut by itself,
that's Thornhill's dam ; that's the first Colsterdale
foal we had; there's Naughty Boy's dam close by
her ; that's a rare thick chestnut Colsterdale she's got
with her, it's a horse now; Amati's dam never made
a mistake; Mr. Cookson came here and found the
name on a fiddle, that's why we called him that. We
must get it correct anyhow; only four of them have
ever had a bridle on. Gorse Hill, Amati, Elcho, Bogle
Hill—Marquis of Bowmont they called him when he
won—all winners; bred nothing but what's won,—
what's been tried however. The chestnut's by Sleight
of Hand out of Darling ; she has a chestnut; t'other's
a bay Colsterdale foal, and like him too ; that Darling
blood's as good as anything we have. Little Hampton
was from the old mare. That's a Pyrrhus mare, none
of them's run but Bayonet; I doubt he's not so good
as he ought to be; they keep matching of him ; I
don't know what they're doing with him ; they don't
measure him well, I think. Yes! he gave 22lbs., Sir
Tatton.
" There are lots of mushrooms in this Castle field
t38 Scott and Sebright.
The Castle we get the best view of Sledmere from
Field. ^ ; that's Marramat among the firs and
ashes over there. Sir Christopher planted the woods ;
there's a good gallop two miles round among those
woods at Marramat; Sam Chifney's ridden in it many
a time. George Serle had the farm, and trained Sir
Mark's horses; I was there as a lad, fifty years ago ;
aye! it will be fully that; then Sir Mark's horses
went to Joe Ackroyd's, where Mr. Scott lives now;
then on to Perren's at Settrington. Tibthorpe Wold
Farm lies over there ; a good bit of Boddle was a
rabbit warren; those red roofs there, that's it; then
we get round—Marramat—Mowthorpe—Kirby and
the rest of them. The separate trees look like a wood.
We're forgetting these mares ; there are five Sleights
amongst them ; have you got that one down ? I sup-
pose you'll be bringing out something in the Silk and
Scarlet style ; one of them's by Sleight out of Wicket,
white mare you were talking of; next her, let me see,
she'll be by Sleight of Hand, dam by Stumps, grandam
by Oiseau. The white-legged bay walking off; that's
Wynnstay's dam, with a foal just the make of Colster-
dale. Mr. Sykes rode the little chestnut mare with
the harriers ; that's her Daniel foal, that thick un.
Daniel's fillies have a deal more grey at the root of
their tails than the colts ; there are a deal of grey
hairs from Daniel ; that's the Irishman; the tails
always witness of Daniel,—they used to be called the
Matchem arms. That big foal in the middle, he's
brother to—Highflyer, and not fly so very fast either.
We only once brought up twins, they were a couple of
Riflemen.
The King's " There are only two Pyrrhuses in this
Field. King's Field, and a sister to Wollaton;
the skewballed one's out of sister to Baronet; I didn't
know what was coming, so Sir Tatton says. Well!
there was a great white patch on the side,—as like a
calf as aught. That other Pyrrhus, Sir Tatton thinks
Turf Cracks. 13 9
her about his best. Now, there is a good halter full,
Mr. Stockdale! We had seven or eight Pyrrhuses,
Sir Tatton's never sold but two, and those to the
King of Italy ; Mr. Phillips came, and Count Cigar or
Cigala, I think they call him—well, it's some name
like that.
"We must crOSS the Driffield Road, Across the Road
and through the wood ; that will bring and into the
us into the Park. This reservoir, it's Park>
about thirty yards across. We've only fifty-five mares
here. How many have we got ? I never counted
them,—better than a hundred ; Sir Tatton gave the
word, and we left off early in May; several good
mares have never been touched with nothing, four,
five, six, not one in this Park too young; we've that
Lanercost mare, dam of Monsieur Dobler, she's all
we've got or ever had of that sort. That's by Caster,
she goes into a Muscat Arab, bought at Hampton
Court. The great grandam of that mare, it's supposed
to be by Grey Orville from a pony that was at
Waterloo, Sir Tatton will tell you all about it; Grey
Orville, he'd got a skip with a coach-horse some way.
There are nineteen on the other side of Marramat;
we've seen about fifty. There are eight we haven't
seen, other side of Colly Wood. There's one Wo-
mersley here, sister to Gaspard, neither covered or
nothing else ; most of them are Daniels, when we get
at them below. That's a Russian ; this is an Andover
out of a Caster mare ; it's a bit damaged in the eye ;
the other's a Cossack out of sister to Grey Tommy ;
three white legs, she's sister to Baronet; there's sister
to Juggler ; that's a Young Barefoot. This is either a
Colonel mare or a Langar dam ; they're four-year-
olds, I must look at my book: W00! my lass /
No. 57, what marks ? ' A star, a spot on the nose, far
hind-leg white nearly up to hock;' that will be
Colonel. We've seven or eight Andovers, they suit
Daniels, they're on a longer leg.
140
Scott and Sebright.
" I don't see any Recovery mares ; Sir Tatton sent
six to him : King of Hearts' dam is from one. We
had Sir Joseph here; he looked the yearlings over,
and King of Hearts was the only one he had out the
second time. He didn't buy him for all that; and he
just beat his Duke Rollo. It would be at Northampton,
Sir Tatton. That's a Defence mare : we've only one
Andover and Pyrrhus ; they both go back to Lord
Fitzwilliam's Amadis blood. Mr. Kirby hired him ;
he came once a week to the kennels at Eddlethorpe ;
he got the best hunters Lord Fitzwilliam ever had.
He was got by Quicksilver, the same horse as Cer-
vantes. There's Gaspard's dam, and the chestnut,
she's by Sleight of Hand out of Ragged Petticoat by
Comus. That brown's been ridden in the harrier
stables a bit of one season.
" That black un's a Fernhill ; I don't fancy the sort
much,—game horse too for all that. Most of them
down here are Daniels ; that wants to be out of sight,
Poverty's been there since it came from Heslington
Wold. That Andover out of Caster mare wants to
be shown; she thinks herself better than common.
Don't be so proud, Miss I That Daniel's out of a
Lanercost mare ; she's very like him. That one never
had a tail to speak of, and never will have. That's
by Fugleman ; next her's an Andover, let me see my
book, a twin ; yes ! she will be, Sir Tatton, out of
sister to Billy-go-Rarely. That was one of Lord
Waterford's names ; he put him in his drag, and drove
Mr. Legard down to Epsom first time he'd been in
harness. That mare's the best of Daniel's ; the thin
end of them we picked out to go to York, the thick's
not covered yet.
a Little " We're through them at last; they're
Arithmetic, middle-sized, these Daniel mares; they're
not big, still they're wide mares. How many have
we ? I don't know rightly, Sir Tatton ; there are
twenty-five two-year-olds at the kennels; eleven threes
Turf Cracks.
4i
we picked out to keep, they're at Heslington Carr;
eleven three-year-old colts down in Holderness on the
Marshes ; the fours and fives are about Home : I can't
just tell about the yearling fillies ; I've not cast them
up lately ; there'll be thirty-two or thirty-three of one
kind or another, fifteen on farmers' seeds, eighteen left
at home; I don't know without looking at my book
where they are. This is the tally-board, I've just
done chalking up all the filly foals with their marks.
I'll copy them out some evening into the book ; there
we fix them ; there'll be twenty-five this year, one of
them's dead. We'll begin swinging them at the stack,
when we've done with York, to teach them to lead ;
we do two or three stack-fulls a day, eight a piece
about two hours at a time, that's quite long enough.
We've been a good deal bothered with these worms—
they're five or six inches long—but I think we've
matched 'em; we give them a gill of cold drawn
linseed oil, and an ounce of spirits of turpentine;
it brings them away in scuttles full ; they've forks
at both ends, and they fairly eat through the bowels.
" Sir Tatton's had these laurels by the The Sire
road-side cut down lately. Daniel gets Paddocks,
plenty of swing here; he goes once round the pad-
dock, whoever's here ; now he does that nicely; Sir
Tatton still says, I hang to him a bit ; look at those
legs moving, just like a fiddle for all the world ; Derby
course, indeed ! he could have run to Derby that day,
if Frank had asked him. He mastered them a bit
latterly at Mr. Scott's ; aye ! it's a good colour ; dark
chestnut's as pretty as aught when it's blooming. Now,
you Colsterdale men ! he's up in that corner among
the peacocks; he's as proud as any of them in his way;
he needn't be ; it's a very silky skin, but he's no credit
to himself, he tears at himself; his thighs are straight
enough, they'll just suit the Daniel crook ; Sir Tatton
looked at Loupgarou, and five or six more before he
bought him. Take care of him; keep a look out or
142
■Scott and Sebright.
he'll begin his dot-and-go-one, and wheedle up to you.
He's all wire ; he was a great jumper with hounds in
his pauper days, so they tell me ; well, he's had a
rare chance now. Be off with you ! None of your
tricks! We'll shut him up with his gay company.
That will be the bell, Sir Tatton."
Old Times at From Sledmere to Ashton Hall is a
Ashton Hail, long leap, but we must make it for chro-
nology's sake. It lies about three miles from Lan-
caster, and in the Duke of Hamilton's zenith, no
paddocks were a surer find for a St. Leger winner.
They are like a fortified town, with walls seven feet
high, which, with a belt of planting, form a good
bulwark against the breezes of the Irish Ocean. Un-
derley was twenty-five miles away, and Muley had not
then made for it a name. The Duke was very often
at the Hall, and he had a jovial custom that the
sailors, when they came in from abroad, and passed on
their route from Glaston Dock to Lancaster, should
make it their half-way house, and pledge Old England
in a horn of ale. The Duke's and their Polls' healths
were not forgotten, and if his Grace was about, they
would huzza, till for peace and quietness he was
compelled to show himself and bow. His own dress
was quite of the good old fashion, and he was not
above grey breeches and drab gaiters, with a double-
breaster of blue and yellow stripes, and a large drab
coat.
His horses were his great delight at home, but he
cared very little for seeing them run, and had the re-
"The Best of suits across the hills by express. When
ail Good Com- he did get as far as York, he stayed with
pany. Archbishop Harcourt at Bishopthorpe,
and they would watch the running together from a
stile. It was said that they gradually shifted their
ground nearly half-a-mile in six or seven years, and
finally finished opposite the Gravel Road. Eyes as
keen had been content to look on at the running from
Ttirf Cracks. 143
Middlethorpe Corner, and it was there that Mr.
Bethell's Ruler broke his fetlock-joint in '83, and the
three young Sykeses, then boys with a tutor at Bishop-
thorpe, were the first to get up to him.
The era of 1808-10 was a merry one at Lancashire Turf
Ashton Hall. The York Herald was Rivals.
The Lifeoi that day, and " Nap's" battles were keenly
looked for and talked over by the lads, amid the in-
tervals of cricket, nine pins, and nurr and spell. Of
all such games, his Grace was a great patron, and he
engaged Mendoza, whose "limbs like an ox" were the
astonishment of that little community, to come down
and instruct his sons. Theakstone trained for him,
and Charles Marson, who looked after Petronius and
Ashton in turn, rode his light weights. There had
been some little dispute between his Grace and Lord
Strathmore, as to'which should have the black jacket,
which," by-the-by, had no gold braid till Mr. Bowes
came of age. The former gave way, and adopted a
blue belt, and went to Lancaster to see Marson win-
ning the first race in it on Ploughboy, and getting
carried shoulder high into the stand. Preston was then
quite the county race course, and his Grace made it a
point of honour to go there, and pit his steeds specially
against Lord Derby, Sir Thomas Stanley, and Mr.
Clifton.
Sir Peter had long been the Touch- st. Leger Sons
stone of Knowsley, and Mr. Clifton of Sir Peter,
owned the first St. Leger winner Fyldener, and the
Duke of Hamilton the last in that extraordinary
triple succession of luck (1806-8) which has never
before or since fallen to the lot of one sire. Petronius
went to 100 to 3 at starting, as a report got wind that
he had flung his lad behind the Rockingham, and
lunched up to his knees in clover. Ashton was tried
to be a§ good as him at /lbs. that autumn, and hence
the stable considered that they had four horses good
enough to win the St. Leger, and pretty well proved
14 4
Scott and Sebright.
it by running first and second. Ashton was quite a
hunter-looking horse, with very hairy legs, which
" took a lifetime to dry," and none of the elegance of
his reputed sire Walnut. The latter never ran, as
he broke his shoulder, which united with a curious
knot at the point, and brought about a complete
wasting of the foreleg and foot.
The Waxy Sultan's head, Memnon's Doncaster
Bi°°d- coat, Oiseau's ability to "give his year
away and win the St. Leger," and Whisker's quarters
seem still to haunt the old school of sportsmen. The
Duke of Grafton was wont to say, " Let us find the
horse, and then we'll talk about the jockey and Pene-
lope and Waxy furnished him with a worthy pair in
Whisker and Whalebone. Short legs, high-bred
nostrils, and very prominent eyes were the principal
trade-marks of the Waxy stock, and the mottled
brown Whalebone was the smallest amongst them.
The standard could never make him more than
fifteen and half an inch, and as he did not seem
likely to become fashionable, he was sold at seven for
Whalebone at 510 guineas. His old Petworth groom,
Petworth. Dayman, enthusiastically says of him
"He was the lowest, and longest, and most double-
jointed horse, with the best legs—eight and a half
below the knee—and worst feet I ever saw in my
life." The latter were contracted and high on* the
heel, and became so Chinese boot-like and full of fever
at last that he never moved out of his box.
The Earl of Egremont tried to train him after he
bought him with Octavius at Mr. Ladbroke's sale,
but he never ran, and his principal occupation in
training was to rear and knock his hoofs together
like a pair of castanettes, a freak which once cost him
three tumbles in a day. His hunters were good and
mostly bays and browns, and Myrrha and Sir Her-
cules were the last of his racing line. He was ten
years at Petworth, but he did not seem to have
Turf Cracks. 145
created much private veneration. No enthusiasts
helped to rob him of his tail, and the kennel copper
and the knacker claimed every hair.
Octavius had quite his share of the ThePetworth
mares, of which his lordship had at least Stud-
thirty at Upwaltham, and his son Little John from
Greyskin got several hunters, which were often slug-
gish, and went blind. Among the thirty, only a tithe
of which in one very slippery spring produced foals,
were Wasp, the dam of Chateau Margaux ; and the
Canopus mare, which twice over hit to Whalebone,
with that natty little pair of Derby winners, Lapdog
and Spaniel. Wanderer by Gohanna was another
great Petworth character, and grandsire on the dam's
side to Sir Hercules. He was quite a slug when he
was put in training, but all alive after his sweats, and
so restless as a sire that he would fight a stick, or toss
a stone or straws about all day, and vary matters by
kicking all night.
Blacklock's dam, the chestnut Rosa- Blacklock's
lind by Coriander, was originally one of Youth,
the Wiganthorpe stud in Atalanta and Faith's day.
Mr. Garforth also bred his sire*Whitelock "a naggish
horse with a big, coarse head and plumb forelegs." He
became the property of Sir Mark Sykes, who named
him from the lock in his tail, and sold him to Mr.
Sylvester Reed for three hundred. Mr. Reed had the
offer of Blacklock as a foal for fifty, but he neither
liked his forelegs nor the remembrance of his dam,
when he saw her crawling past his window to Mr.
Moss's, through the streets of York, after she had been
purchased for 3/. Aristotle's forelegs were not more
" plumb" than Blacklock's, and hence Tom Dawson
begged Mr. Meiklam, who was very loath to risk it,
not to part with him as a yearling. Blacklock's most
desperate race was four miles over York Racing Finish
with Magistrate, whom he barely defeated of Biackiock.
by a head. The severity of it finished them both ;
I,
146
Scott and Sebright.
Magistrate never ran again, after his defeat the next
day by St Helena, who had been pulled up in the
first race, a mile froni home, Blacklock was saddled no
more.
He used to lead the unhappy Duchess such dances,
that Tom Peirse exclaimed in his anguish, when he
saw the great half-moon head and seven-leagued stride
at work, " Father's going to kill the mare by following
that half-thick? John Smith was of the same opinion,
and thought that " if Eclipse himself came again he
couldn't beat him and Tommy Sykes was so con-
fident before the St Leger, that he would give Jack-
son no orders, but " Rid him as thou likes, lig thee
'hands down and let him stride away, and distance them?
Sire and Sons Jemmy Rooke had Joe and Dick
of Tramp. Andrews on Wychwood Forest, when he
was sold up, and it was quite a novelty to see the
latter eat hay with his giraffe-like neck, from the top
of his rack. In ugliness of ears and head altogether,
he was almost unsurpassable, and so light in the body
that he required next to no training. Tramp was
narrow like all his tribe, when a yearling, but he
gradually became one of the grandest boned horses in
England, and Herring's likeness of him at the Tickhill
Castle Paddocks makes him well worthy to be the sire
of Lottery from Mandane. This horse's finest race
L0ttery was for that Doncaster Cup, whose wan-
derings and uses by land and river were
so varied and remarkable. He made his own running
all the way, and just beat Longwaist behalf a neck,
and scattered his field nearly half a mile. Sam Day
still says that it " was like going after a steam-engine,"
and that he " suffered to keep near him at all." He
always went like a machine, and the trainers declared
that they " could hear him a mile off." Sam was not
on Longwaist, when that horse had such a great finish
with Fleur de Lis, who nearly fell on his head, and left
Sam, as he pathetically says, " hanging by the spurs."
Turf Cracks. 147
Lottery was a curious horse to meet, as he threw his
Off foreleg quite OUt. Still he was not Peculiar Action
so eccentric as Tomboy, who threw of Lottery and
both legs clean round, and had all his Tomb°y-
action so completely from behind, that Johnny Gray
said of him when he rode him at Durham, " He
couldnt get on to his legs, without first sitting down on
his tail"
Lottery was an unsatisfactory, erratic The Last of
genius all his days. He was tried to run Lottery,
away from Barefoot in private, but he would hardly
make an effort in the St. Leger, and Mr. Watt did not
care to run him after the false start. In his last race,
he whipped in sixth to Fleur de Lis at Doncaster, and
the first of his get, Chorister from the dam of Crow-
catcher, won the St. Leger. Finally he became a
Government sire at the Bois de Boulogne, with Cadland
and Physician, and the fame of the three quite spoilt
the sport of Palmer at Viroflay, who had made 2000/.
in three years, or sufficient to stock a farm in Poland,
by fees from the Parisians. They came over by cart-
loads every Sunday to see Rainbow and the Viroflay
mares, and clubbed from five to twenty francs, to have
the door opened.
Catton by Golumpus was stout and TheCatton
useful, and with unsurpassable legs. Old Tribe-
Tom Taylor (or " Catton Tom" as he was then called),
looked after him when he was with Sammy King, who
had always the credit of being rather tender with his
horses. Mulatto was more blood-like than the ma-
jority of the Cattons ; Royal Oak, the sire of Slane,
ran first as Mr. Catton ; and the game Ossian had
to live the greater part of his time " on the muzzle."
Slane had a sad aptitude for getting roarers, and there
were no less than ten or eleven by him in one year.
Like The Princess, who very much resembled Altisi-
dora in her chief points, their specialty was to be game
and slow.
L 2
148 Scott and Sebright.
Reveller was a thick-necked, fine goer, with square
hips and short ribs, and ran with his head low. The
defeat of Underhand and Beeswing at Newcastle, or
Isaac at Warwick, never struck the beholders with
Dr. Syntax and sucli ci chill, cts did thcit of Dr. SyntcLX clt
Reveller. Preston. It was there that the little
brown won his Maiden Plate, and for seven years in
succession carried off the Old Gold Cup. So sure did
the Guild make of his winning the eighth, that they
had prepared gilt shoes, and marshalled the pro-
gramme of a procession in his honour. The race was
worthy of the anticipations it raised, as Reveller and
Jack Spigot came for it, but Dr. Syntax divided them
at the finish. If spurred or whipped, " Doctor" would
invariably swerve, and Bob Johnson and Bill Scott,
(who rode him in a few of his first races), would never
venture to do more than talk to him, and hiss at him
in an extremity.
Death of Dr. The old horse passed into William
Syntax. Edwards's hands, with a promise to Mr.
Riddell, that he would never give him away. He be-
came so paralyzed that a party of Newmarket jockeys
and trainers were invited to see him shot, and buried
in the paddocks behind the Palace. They gave three
times three over his grave, and then toasted his me-
Ral h mory. Ralph, from a sister to Altisidora,
was one of the very few chestnuts he ever
got. He had the same prominent eye, and such a
velvety skin that critics were wont to say of him that he
had no hair except on his mane and tail. A very fine
cross was lost by his death, which was occasioned by
his being poisoned before the Ascot Cup. He won,
but pulled up in a desperate state of gasping, and the
perspiration and distension of the nostrils never seemed
to leave him.
Scottish Cracks. uSc°"'Sh ™Ci"Z 'tS beSt f°™
when Mr. bharpe became secretary, in
1827, to the Caledonian Hunt. He has stood to it,
Turf Cracks. 149
and seen old friends drop off, year after year, till very
few of those who sat round the ordinary at Edinburgh
in 1828, and first drank his official health, are left to
greet him in his October tryst. Leda by Filho da
Puta, and purchased from Mr. Houldsworth, com-
menced matters for him by winning two races at that
meeting; but although his own luck with the white
body and blue sleeves has been but scant, he has held
what proved trumps, either as dams or runners for
others. From Leda he bred Martha Lynn, the dam
of Voltigeur; he gave away Old Bessy, the dam of
Myrrha, and grandam of Wild Dayrell ; he sold
Butterfly to William Oates, as a foal; he did not stand
to the steeplechaser Mauchlin, and lastly he did not bid
quite enough for Isaac. His brother, General Sharpe,
Sir A. Ramsay, Sir David Moncrieff, and Sir William
Maxwell were all thoroughly staunch, and so was Sir
John Heron Maxwell, whose ancient brown cob was
nearly as well known as himself.
The two Maxwells were exceedingly alike, and
when Charles Lord Queensberry joined them at the
side of the cords, the three in their cool calico waist-
coats made up, as the agriculturists have it, " a very
thick and level pen." Sir William trained at Bogside,
with Richard Greathead, and had Monreith, brother
to Filho, while Springkell and Fair Helen flourished
under "Old Nelson" and his lad sir John Max-
" Finkle," in Sir John's own park. There well and " Old
was a good deal of quiet humour about Nelson-
Sir John, and on one occasion when "Old Nelson"
rather demurred to his recommendation about taking
Springkell back to his stable by the least crowded
way, after winning the Cup, he stopped any
further bounce by solemnly pulling off his hat in
the streets of Carlisle, and saying, with a most
courteous bow, " I beg your pardon, Mr. Nelson,
for presuming to give you a little advice about my own
horsed
Scott and Sebright.
His Fair Helen was a red grey, with a most pecu-
liarly arched neck and weaselly body, and the potions,
which were administered to her during the season, no
doubt affected her foals. Springkell was a round,
useful, thick-necked hunter; but good as the two
were, their names are quite wiped out of the stud-
book. Perlet, by Peter Lely, was one of the first
Canteen and ever trained in the Holme at Hoddom
Springkell at Castle, and he bettered the instruction
Carlisle. at £)umfries : but it was when the neat
little Canteen came from Brecongill to meet Spring-
kell, for the Carlisle Cup, that Dumfriesshire made its
great exodus southwards.
Difficulties of Even old Mr. Bird, the Hoddom
the Hoddom butler, was persuaded on to horseback,
Castle Butler. fQr first ^jme Jn ftjg Jjfe> an(J rQCJe
twenty miles, with the tails of his dress-coat pinned
in front of him. The course was too deep to suit
Canteen, and hence the Cup returned in the Spring-
kell carriage, and Mr. Bird retired into the fastnesses
of his Border Tower, leaving his bark in the saddle,
and his crowns in the hands of others. However,
Mr. Kirby had a still more bitter recollection of
Canteen, as he laid iooo to 5 against Jerry and him
coupled, as first and second for the St. Leger.
Matilda Matilda was-sadly fidgetty, and in and
out in her running, after the St. Leger.
When she was taken up as a yearling late in
.September, she was only fourteen-one-and-a-half, but
still she was half an inch bigger than The Colonel.
Perhaps a handsomer little mare and big horse than
she and Mameluke never met in a race. Eventually
Mr! Petre gave her to the Duke of Cleveland, and she
bred Henriade, Alzira, and Foxberry, and some other
fair things.
Purchase of Rowton had his beauty as a heritage
Rowton. from Oiseau and Camillus, and John
Scott thus sums up the delight of his heart, as " long
Turf Cracks. 151
and low, not fifteen at the Leger, calf-kneed, straight
hocks, no girth, and a regular tickler." He was rather
light-fleshed, and not one to come every day. His
dam Katharina was bred precisely like Augusta, by
Woful from a Rubens mare, and he was bought at
her foot, from Mr. Allen, after dinner. The bargain
was a regular Dutch auction. During dinner, Mr.
Allen was deaf to anything less than five hundred ;
but after the first bottle, he was down at four. With
the second bottle, the colt stood at three; but John
Scott had his guard up, and no business was done, so
Mr. Allen offered to drive him home, and they shook
hands for two hundred at parting. Never but once,
that his friends can remember, did John Scott miss
anything peculiar when he looked over a horse, but
it never struck him that Rowton had no warts on the
inside of his legs, and his brother won a sovereign
from him on the point. In his slow paces, he was not
remarkable, and he lurched like a fox with his head
down. To all appearance, his St. Leger His Race for
finish with Voltaire was quite as despe- the St- Leger-
rate as Mundig's Derby one; but Bill Scott always
said that he won quite easily. He certainly allowed
to his friends that he "got the fog down his throat
but his private report to his brother was, that he
left off riding at the distance, after forcing the pace
from the hill, and could not get his chestnut to begin
again.
Like the sisters to Touchstone and Lanercost
Moss Rose, sister to Velocipede, was a Velocipede on
very faint reflection of him, and not fond the Turf-
of more than half-a-mile. Her brother was bought
for 120/. from Mr. Moss, after Mr. Houldsworth had
said that he would not give sixpence for such a slight-
legged one. His mettle under leg difficulties elicited
this eulogy from Bill Scott, " that if his legs had been
cut off he'd have fought on his stumps and the way
in which, four-year-old cripple as he was, he cut down
152
Scott and Sebright.
Bessy Bedlam over the T.Y.C., at York, was his
highest triumph of speed. His first great race was
won at York August, during a meeting, in which
Mulatto and Fleur-de-Lis were winners, and Jerry,
Laurel, Humphrey Clinker, and Emma were not;
and as a parting gift he beat Dr. Faustus, Economist,
and a good field for the Liverpool Trades Cup.
Soon after that, he ran away with his lad, and broke
down so badly after galloping several times round
the field in front of Whitewall, that they had the
greatest difficulty to support him back into his stable
with sacks.
The Colonel J°hn Scott considered him in his
prime, quite 21 lbs. better than The
Colonel, who was bred by Mr. Wyvill, of Burton Con-
stable, and bought by Mr. Petre, as a yearling, in
settlement of some confederate bets. The latter was
short and pudgy, with fine speed, and high and
fighting in his action, "ready to curl up into a
mousehole, if he was reached, but very difficult to
reach."
Charles Marson Charles Marson's ten years of service
at Lord produced about 60,000/. to the Exeter
Exeter s. stable, as he won or received forfeit 207
times; and hence it is hardly to be wondered, that with
such a sterling memento, his lordship stuck so long and
so tenaciously by his Sultans. Previous to Marson's
engagement, his lordship had seventeen horses at
Prince's, but with no very great result ; and Augusta,
Holbein, and The Athenian, with Robinson up, were
the first of the new era. When Sultan, of the lovely
head, long back ribs, and muscular quarters, was pur-
chased at seven, his legs had become quite fine, and
The Sultan he won one out of four races in the
st°ek. narrow blue stripes. The T.Y.C. was his
forte, but he could get well over the Flat. He was a
long horse, and many were wont to compare him to
the prints of The Darley Arabian. In his last trial,
Turf Cracks.
153
a bad-tempered half-brother to Galata won, with
Augusta second, and then his lordship put him out of
training, and sent ten mares to him. His stock were
fleshy and good doers ; and for beauty, Vanish had
no peer among them. Enamel by Phantom had been
a successful horse for the stable before the Sultans
were ready ; and it was after the Two Thousand that
the Burleigh agent and Mr. Tattersall raced off to
Simon's Bath, on Exmoor, to look after his Rubens
dam. Enamel got his name from the gold patches
on one quarter. This colt's two remarkable white
stockings were well known to all Newmarket; and his
way of nodding his great, lop-eared, and flesh-nosed
head, secured an uncommon affectionate look-out for
" Old Baldy" about the Bushes.
Beiram was nervous and irritable, and Beiram
so wet through when he came to the
July post, that Bill Arnull vowed he ''would never
want sweating again." Running, however, hardened
his confidence, and he pulled up as dry as a bone.
Being thrown up for two years effected nothing, and
he came out in Rockingham's Goodwood Cup only to
break down. Even in his prime, a half-brother to
Zinganee could give him any weight, and was con-
sidered by Marson the best he ever trained. This
colt unfortunately slipped upon some wet bricks in
his box, and was good for nothing afterwards. Green
Mantle could get two miles well; but Green Mantle
she would jump all ways but the right and Varna,
one at the post. Nothing could be more deceptive
in her trials, as she was beat to nothing by Bessie
before the July ; but her speed, when she meant it,
was such, that a loss of forty yards in the Clearwell
went for very little. Hers was a very glorious year
with Lord Exeter, as Green Mantle and Varna were
first and second in the Oaks, and Patron won the
Two Thousand and four other races that spring
before he went for the Derby. This colt had beaten
154
Scott and Sebright.
her easily in an A. F. trial; and Lord Exeter, who
would try three times over if it did not exactly
suit him, and worked the weights by a clock, tried
them in opposite directions on the same course, to be
sure of the form.
Gaiata Ripping Galata was, after all, the best of the
them up. Burleigh mares, and in the Ascot Cup of
1833, Will Arnull received the daring orders to "rip
up Lucetta," and acted up to them most effectually.
Her timidity was such, that Marson was obliged to
train her alone, or else she would not have touched
an oat. She was leggy, light-fleshed, and with large
feet, and if she was held she would utterly beat her-
self, as she proved in a trial with Beiram. In the
Port Stakes, Sam Darling had the cue to let her go,
and finish them in the first mile. " We'll catch the
countryman," said Robinson to Will Wheatley, " be-
fore he gets to the cords but " Well, you may go and
do it; I'll stop 071 this side of the Ditch',' was Will's
only reply. Lord Chesterfield, Mr. Payne, Col. Udney,
and Marson were all at the Ditch gap, and Darling so
literally obeyed his orders to " catch her by the head
and come along," that there was soon a fearful
spread-eagle of Emiliana, Archibald and Co. In
fact, the Ditch gazers did not think it was a race at
all,- and declared that there was something running
away; but Marson soon informed them, " That's
Galata; they'll never catch her',' and he and Col.
Udney each drew Will Chifney of a tenner upon it.
It took a good deal to excite Lord Jersey; but on
this occasion he was as pleased as when he jumped
out of his phaeton after Cobweb had won the One
Thousand, and left the gout behind him. " Hold
her fast, Darling'' he roared, as he galloped down
the side of the course. "All right, my lord'' was
the reply. " If I was going to Bury I should win'.'
Darling's Best Darling was pitted successfully against
Race. Robinson in the dead heat for the Grand
Turf Cracks. 155
Duke Michael, between Muley Ishmael and Amurath.
The first race was not so severe ; but Darling had his
orders to force the running as much as possible the
second time. He did not like his job ; but Lord
Exeter said, " You've a great man against you, keep up
your spirits," and " a pony" from his. lordship, and a
twenty-pound note from Lord George Bentinck,
rewarded his steady riding. In the decider Robin-
son had a taste coming down the Bushes Hill, and
Sam watched his shadow over the left, in the rays of
the afternoon sun, and calling on his horse almost
at the instant that he saw it glide slightly back,
he got a clear length, and was never quite reached
again.
The public had a notion that Cama- camarine and
rine was far beyond Lucetta in point of Taurus,
speed, but had no chance with her over a Queen's Plate
course; and that she required to run with her near
leg first. If she started 011 the off one, said they, she
swung it round so much, that, unless she had been
steadied and made to change, she would soon have
been in distress. Robinson, however, declared that
the former was the very best mare he ever rode, and
that Lucetta had no chance with her at any distance,
and he knew nothing whatever of the leg peculiarity.
Taurus stuck well up for two miles and a quarter to
her in the Jockey Club Plate, over the Beacon course.
He had won an A. F. handicap so cleverly under
9st. 31b., that his Grace was determined to give him
full Newmarket measure. Robinson made steady
running on Camarine, to take the edge off his old
friend's speed ; but the victory was a costly one, and
neither of them saw the post again. " Our Jim" felt
so sure of the result in every way, that he went
in vain to both owners to beg them not to run,
but they would not heed him. Taurus was sixteen
hands high, with enormous pace for a mile and a
quarter, and a very beautiful horse to look at. William
156 Scott and Sebright.
Edwards bought him from Lord Warwick, at Tatter-
sail's, and sold him to the Duke of Bedford. At
three years old he suddenly became a high-blower,
but he was tried to have such speed for three-quarters
of a mile, that 110 other measure was ever taken of
him. He was matched five times at half a mile, and
as he would be going best pace in forty yards,
scarcely anything could get to his shoulder at that
distance. His sons, Oakley, John o' Gaunt, King of
the Peak, &c., were all in the Bedford stable when
Admiral Rous became the Duke's " Master of the
Horse."
The Duke of His Grace was very uncertain in his
Bedford as a attendance at Newmarket. He seldom
Racing man. came jn spring, and looked upon the
October meetings more as a tryst where he could
meet his Whig friends, than his horses. He was veiy
seldom through his stables, and cared for a race-
horse about as much as he did for a unicorn. None
of his winners were ever painted, as he considered it
" quite an acquired taste." Admiral Rous persuaded
him to have occasional trials, but the only one he ever
attended in Edwards's day, was when John o' Gaunt
was tried before the Newmarket Stakes. His heart
was not in " The Bushes but roving back to the
Cowper's Oak of his earlier days, with Hercules and
Marmion waiting for the word to draw. Pearce's
canvas has placed him once more among them, on
his white Shamrock, with Colonel Higgins on his rat-
tailed horse, Major Macginnes, Mr. Magniac on The
The Oakley . Saddle (which Mr. Phillimore bequeathed
Meet- to him when its Newmarket match days
were over), old Sam Whitbread, on his odd-coloured
chestnut, Captain Newland, and George Beers on
Cognac, looking as fierce as if he had just pulled
down a fox, and was breaking him up in the spirit.
At Tedworth, too, his Grace would be on the flags
with Carter for hours to the last, tracking back lines
Tttrf Cracks.
157
of blood, and recalling the work of every hound in
his own and the Grafton pack ; but for racing he
had no real heart, and merely wished his stable to
pay.
John o' Gaunt was always tried to be better than
Oakley.; but he put out incipient ring- Envoy and
bones, and no one ever knew how good Magog the
he was. Edwards swore by Envoy, as Giant-
the best, bar Ralph, that he ever trained, and the
chestnut was an equal favourite with the Duke. He
ran quite untired for the Drawing Room Stakes, and
hence the House party had no reason to wonder that
they had not heard of him. No horse required so
much long walking exercise, in addition to his work,
at least five days a week ; and the petting and lack
of exercise at Woburn made him so round and foul-
blooded, that he could never be trained again. Oakley
and Robinson " knew every post on the Flat," and
over a T.Y.C. he was just about 5lbs. better than Celia.
He might have run further, but his great muscular
top hardly comported with his small knees and hocks ;
and as he showed a tendency to put out curbs, they
dare not go on with him for a longer course. Magog
was bought by the Duke for 300from Mr. Ransome,
and for three-quarters of a mile he was immensely
fast; but his leg gave way at three, and his temper
soon after. He quite ate up to his weight, and when
his rations were gone, he would have been ready to
take his turn at a pig-trough.
The Earl of Albemarle was in the The Late Earl
Palace stable at the same time as His of Albemarle.
Grace; but Barcaroll's Oaks chance was put out by
illness, after she had won the One Thousand, and Mr.
Kirby's 400/. cheque was ready. His lordship formed
very little judgment about horses, and as Dr. Johnson
said of his Derbyshire friend, " His talk is of sheep
and bullocks." He would, in fact, have never kept
horses at all, but for the very laudable feeling that, as
158 Scott and Sebright.
Master of the Horse, he had no right to see Ascot
racing at other people's expence. Still, as is often
the case when owners take things easy, and do not
make their lives miserable by watching the market,
his green-and-white cap had a good time of it with
Ralph and the Emperor ; and he purchased Royal
George for 150/. from Edwards, and sold him to the
foreigners for more than thrice that sum. The ill
Bad Beaufort luck of the stable seemed to concentrate
Luck- itself on the Duke of Beaufort. What-
ever he bought, bred, or borrowed, turned out badly,
and when it really seemed on the cards, his horse
would tumble down, or run out of the course, or go
amiss.
MuleyandMuley Muley was a good runner, despite his
Moloch. somewhat odd pins, and Muley Moloch
was rather high on the leg, and rather short quartered.
His Champagne and York Derby wins had made him
a hot St. Leger favourite in Yorkshire, but he never
had a chance, and they hedged their opinion after the
race, by saying that his teeth had been so bad that
he lived on balls of meal for six weeks before. Mr.
Tattersall, who had the charge of the Underley stud,
was not a little fond pf selling them at Doncaster,
and it was from Marpessa, one of the old Muley's
daughters, and Alice Hawthorne, his granddaughter,
that Pocahontas and Thormanby sprang.
TheGrandsire of Master Henry, the sire of Touchstone's
Touchstone, dam, is embalmed in Sam Day's memory,
as being one of his favourite platers ; and especially
great in mud. John Scott had never seen Touch-
stone till the Liverpool St. Leger, when the brown
made his own running, and was beaten by General
John Scott's Chasse. Godfrey Kirkley, who was .with
First Sight of IVJr. Riddell, trained him, and had him
touchstone. as as a j still Birdlime and
Inheritor, who had just beaten Physician at 32lbs.
for the two years, in the Cup, were behind him,
Turf Cracks.
159
and Scott told Lords Derby and Wilton that he
felt sure he could win the St. Leger. The beginning
was not favourable, as he was put in the charge of a
drunken groom to walk to Yorkshire, and got loose
on the Lancashire moors for hours, where a sailor
caught him and brought him to Sheffield. After such
neglect, he arrived at Malton in a pain- His Mishaps and
fully weak state, and a course of Peruvian Medicine.^,
bark had to be resorted to before they dared to work
him. "What with this and his jaundice, John Scott
seldom had a horse which required so much doctoring.
A record of the calomel and other drugs which he
swallowed would form a portion of Whitewall history,
as remarkable as the recovery of its Prince Llewellyn,
who answered to the old ale and port, and won two
races after he had been covered up in the stall as
dead, and his grave had been dug in the paddock.
He had his final polish at Hambleton, and when
Bill declared after the trial to ride Lady le Gros, Dar-
ling was applied to for Touchstone. However, Lord
Sligo had been beforehand, and Sam weighed for
Bran, and declares to this day that Touchstone stopped
to him at the finish; while Bob Johnson "dodged
backwards and forwards on Chasse before us and
between us, all over the course."
Touchstone was only third up the Mostyn-mile
Mostyn mile to Intriguer and Birdlime, Martyrs,
both of his year. Oddly enough, as soon as his flag
was lowered, Blenkhorn led out his Leger successor
Queen oi Trumps for her maiden race, but although
they were both at the same meeting the next autumn,
and each walked over for two stakes, they never met
at the post. In 1835, when he had just shown in
good Cup form at Doncaster, he again failed up the
Mostyn mile, but he was before Birdlime, who essayed
that heart-breaking hill four times in vain. At five
years old, he did a great thing with Hornsea and
Scroggins at Epsom, the week before the Ascot Cup,
160 Scott and Sebright.
in which he beat Rockingham and Lucifer. His near
fore-ankle was never very good, and even in his first
Ascot Cup race, it had almost risen to the dignity of
" a leg." Its chance of rising to it was furthered by
the wild notions of the man in charge, who persisted
Ascot Cup in doctoring it during John Scott's
Tremblings, absence at Manchester, with hot oils
instead of Gowland's lotion. Still, it was 100 to 1 on
him if the leg stood, though Connolly and Pavis had
been clever enough to get on nearly 5000/. against
him, and it was half-past-twelve before Mr. Hill would
release them. Joe Rogers was another of the sceptics
at Death's, and expressed such a confident determina-
tion to eat him if he won, that John Scott could
not refrain from subsequently sending his compli-
ments, and a request to know how " he should like
him cooked."
Touchstone's Touchstone was a peculiar horse in
Peculiarities, every way. He had very fleshy legs, and
turned his hocks out so much, and went so wide be-
hind, that a barrel could have been got between his
legs when he was galloping. He went with a straight
knee ; and in short he was nearly the oddest goer
that ever cleared its pipes in good air on Langton
Wold, as he pitched and yet stayed as well. Ground
made no appreciable difference to him, but he was
desperately lazy at exercise, and could hardly be
kicked along on most days. As a beginner he did
not excel, and his fine speed was quite his greatest
point. It was a very hard matter to catch him when
he was once set agoing, and no horse pulled harder.
If he was at all stale, it would never do to squeeze
him too much, or he would swerve to the left like a
shot. He just lived into his 31st year, and although
that wondrous hind action in his walk rather failed
him, and he was quite wasted over the back and loins,
he could wave his flag and march very proudly round
his court-yard at Eaton. For two years J&e had been
Turf Cracks.
161
on the wane, but still he never had an hour's illness at
the stud, and never had a dose of medicine in Cheshire
till just before he died. He was quite a valetudinarian,
and it was remarkable to see how on wet days he
would retreat, quick march, to his shed, and stand
earnestly watching the weather. There was appa-
rently great pain in the head for three days before his
death, and he took nothing but a little gruel, and
scarcely any notice of Fisher, who had attended him
for seven years. His feet were all taken off, and
the greater part of his mane and tail, and sent to
the Hall, and he was buried in the middle of the
stable-yard.
Till within the last three years, he was His Descen-
a very sure stock-getter, but not partial dants-
to young mares, nor to old ones till May or June. He
got his sires especially in every form, and we fancy
that Surplice was the finest and biggest of them,
Orlando the most beautiful and blood-like, and Touch-
wood more like himself than any of them, but on a
larger scale. His luck with distinguished mares was
variable. There was Orlando from Vulture, Newmin-
ster and Nunnykirk from Beeswing, Cotherstone from
Emma, Surplice from Crucifix, Assault from Ghuznee ;
but Alice Hawthorne and Lady Evelyn failed, Eller-
dale, Inheritress, and Queen Mary missed; Refraction
and Canezou were not very lucky; Miss Twickenham,
Ellen Middleton, Pocahontas, Barbelle, and Martha
Lynn never honoured him with a visit; and Mr. John-
stone's Harriot was the last mare that went to him.
He and Liverpool were selected by the late Duke of
Orleans for four of his best mares, when with Edgar
Pavis, and then with Charles Edwards, that true-
hearted sportsman held his racing court at Chantilly.
As a general thing, his stock were best at a mile, bad
on their legs after three, and, like him, with no great
action in their slow paces.
Jereed could live with him well at weights for
M
16 2 Scott and Sebright.
jereed and age, and John Scott quite hoped to stand
Mundig. on him for the Derby instead of Mickle
Fell, that anything but brilliant Brother to Mundig.
It was not to be ; he was all well at eight one night,
but a secret foe got at him before five next morning,
and a glance at his legs told the treacherous tale.
Mundig was a very moderate horse, and Consol was
his schoolmaster. Still he convinced the brothers so
completely that he was worth backing for the Derby
after his "Yorkshire gallop" in clothes with Marcian
over the D.I., that the double had to be promptly put
on the touts. They had " got" one of the stable lads,
and so the chestnut and Consol were started off, as if
they had given up Epsom, and were going home, and
then turned back after a six miles walk, when the lad
had fully gazetted their departure for the North.
Although the chestnut had never run in public, he
came to 6 to i in a few hours, and those who had
been most active in " drawing" the lad, immediately
said that it " was a nice robbery, and the Scotts ought
to be ashamed of themselves."
Mundig's Derby When he ran for the Derby, Lord
Day- Chesterfield lent John a bad-mouthed
pony, which landed him among the furzes. At last
his rider got him straight and milled him well across
the Downs, and at their next effort he cannoned a
carriage near the winning-post. He was barely pulled
off that, when Lord Jersey rode up : " Welt, John,
Fm sorry for yon—Ascot's won." " Nowt of the sort,"
said a cad with enough rags ready made on his back
for a mop, " the old beggar in blacks wont' " Has he?"
said John, "you're the man for my businessand
flinging him half-a-crown, he rode off to meet his horse
and congratulate the young heir of Streatlam on his
eighteen thousand. Bill Scott never rode a severer
race, and he had to shout as loud to Nat to keep his
colt from hanging on to him, as he did in the Satirist
Leger when he summarily ordered him to pull Van
Turf Cracks. 163
Amburgh to one side after coming round the bend,
and " let me have a shy at Omld John Day."
^ Hornsea, Scroggins, Carew, and Gla- Hornse£l) Scrog_
diator were all contemporaries of Touch- gins, and
stone at Malton, and when the three first Carew.
were tried with him, Scroggins was beat a distance.
Hornsea and Touchstone were regularly laid alongside
each other at 2olbs. in the Doncaster Cup, and the
young one was the better favourite of the two at start-
ing, and beaten a neck. The chestnut, the origin of
whose wall-eyes once strangely puzzled a German
was a " good, steady horsebut Carew, who sepa-
rated Touchstone from Venison, Beeswing, and Gene-
ral Chasse in the Doncaster Cup of the next year,
and beat a Goodwood Cup field as well, was really
"very moderate." He cut himself down in the St.Leger,
to serve the narrow thin-fleshed Scroggins, of whom
John Scott speaks as " queer in the pipes, but smart."
Gladiator by Partisan was a very blood- Gladiator
like, dark chestnut, but rather delicate,
and requiring remarkable nicety in his preparation.
John and William Scott gave 100/. for him, and
sold him to Lord Wilton for 200/., and a contingency
of half the Derby and St. Leger. He lost the first,
and never started again, but his price gradually rose
to 800/., and finally to 20001. For Sweetmeat's sake
alone be was worth every penny of it, but he also left
Queen Mary the dam of Blink Bonny and the gran-
dam of Caller Ou. His sire Partisan was a beautiful,
short-legged horse with a lovely head, straight hocks,
and a clubby fore foot. Many of the elder trainers
still recur to him fondly as "like a bit of machinery in
his stride." His Patron, a half-brother to Augusta,
was very good; but Venison was the gamest and
stoutest of his sons. Still that little fellow could
never quite do himself justice, as his very long action
hardly fitted him for forcing the running, as he was
often obliged to do.
M 2
164
Scott and Sebright.
The mare Frailty was presented to John Scott by
Mr. Petre, and was sent to Partisan, when she was
rising five. There was nothing particular about her,
but a very curby hock, which had sprung going round
Ferguson's Corner at Catterick. Her Cyprian was
Early Days of sent for a few months before breaking to
Cyprian. ]y[r Hebden at Appleton, among the
Helmsley Moors, near the haunts of the renowned
Jemmy Golding, who when he was rising ninety-two,
thus addressed John Scott, " There are no hunters bred
now-a-days, Mr. Scott. Til just away and buy some
brood mares, and breed a few." She was made quite a
pet of in that country, and knew the taste of cheese-
cakes, and all that sort of thing ; but Bill Scott did
not think much of her Oaks chance when he " had a
taste," and it hung upon her beating Aveline for a 40/.
stake at Malton, whether she went to Epsom at all.
She had a hard time of it, as she walked into Surrey,
and then back to Newcastle, and then home to Malton,
and won both Oaks and Northumberland Plate, during
the six weeks. Joe Wilkins the Aintree trainer, con-
ducted her on a pony, and they travelled on an ave-
rage twenty miles per day. She was terribly high-
mettled, and never trained after four, and Songstress,
also a winner of the Oaks, and Meteora, were her best
foals. She never caused any death herself, and her
ill-temper did not descend to her stock; but one of
them, Artful Dodger, hit a lad who was washing his
feet with his hock on the jugular vein, and killed
him outright on the spot.
Purchase of Epirus, the Malton horse of '37, was
Epirus. purchased along with his brother Epi-
daurus from Mrs. Savile Lumley for 1700/., with a
500/. contingency if he won the Leger, but it needed
all John Scott's eloquence, in a two hours' confab, to
get them at the price. Epirus was untried, and "the
young" beauty," as his mistress termed him in her
delivery order to Hornshaw, was disqualified, or else
Turf Cracks.
Elis's brilliant 'running, both as a two-year-old and
with Bay Middleton a fortnight before, would have
made the figure a much higher one. Langar filled a
25 sov. subscription at Tickhill Castle in the fol-
lowing year, and such was Lord George's admira-
tion for Elis, that he took a fourth of the forty sub-
.scriptions. The chestnut died there at last, and he is
buried on one side of the hedge in the principal
paddock, and Catton on the other.
Epirus could stay well enough, al- His Training
though speed was his best point, and in the Me-
his trial, in which he gave Cardinal Puff troPolls-
iolbs., seemed quite good enough for the St. Leger.
He was the only horse that ever broke Bill Scott's
collar-bone ; and as John Scott adds, " the only one I
ever trained in the streets of London." Owing to
there being no North-Western truck at liberty, he
had to stay three days there in stables behind All
Saints' Church, and he used to take long constitu-
tionals from four A.M. up and down Regent-street.
Sam Chifney had a heavy retainer to go down and
ride him at the Potteries, but he never looked near,
and Nat got a winning mount on him.
Cardinal Puff bore a very distinguished The Triai Gf
part in the great Don John trial, when Don John and
the young one beat him at I2lbs. for the Cardmal PufF-
year. George Nelson's orders were simply to " stand
none of Bill's humbug, but come right through." Both
Lord Chesterfield and Colonel Anson thought it mad-
ness to try at that weight; and at the far side of the
hill Bill thought the young horse had the worst of it.
He accordingly shouted to George to ease a bit; but
the more he shouted the harder went " The Admi-
ral." Bill suffered a little, and caught his leader on
the hill, " fairly jumping over me the moment he was
touched with the spur." George, " who never made a
mistake with the old un," gradually fancied himself in
full command of The "Fleet," at Pigburn, and at
166 Scott and Sebright.
The Colonel and last demanded, in his vinous valour, from
"theAdmiral." Colonel Anson, whether he called himself
a Colonel. However, he rode over special to Don-
caster in the morning to apologize; and the Colonel,
who had the keenest appreciation, for years after, of
his antics and carols on that memorable night, only
replied, " Never mind, George; Fm glad to be blown
tip on such an occasion; you only ride another Don
John trial, and you may do it again d
Horse Whims. . Don John detested Bill Scott, owing,
it was supposed, to his having hit him
twice with a whip in his box at York. All the carrots
in the East Riding would not have reconciled them,
and like Jack Spigot, it made him furious even to
hear the sound of Bill's voice. The Princess took a
dislike to every one at Whitewall, and after giving
Jacob more trouble than half the stable to shoe, she
ended by running John Scott and Markwell out of
the paddock when they went to see her at Bretby. It
is a pretty general opinion among trainers that horses
cannot tell one person from another except by the
A Horse's Know- voice, and that, in this respect, they are
ledge of Sound. pke the fairy " Fine Ear." Ellerdale,
for instance, took no notice of Tom Dawson when he
went to see her at Admiral Harcourt's some four or
five years after she had left his stable ; but the mo-
ment he said " Coachman !" she wheeled round, and
struck at him quite viciously. Mentor was quite as
odd this way, and he proved pretty well that the dis-
like arises from the association of the voice with the
orders at exercise. Mat Dawson had him under
his charge for a short time in Scotland, when his legs
were wrong ; and as he gave him no work, there w&s
no raw established between them. Hence Mat quite
laughed at the notion that the horse would not let
him go up to him, if he heard his brother Torri's
voice, and a bet of a new hat was made on it. They
adjourned with some visitors to the box, and Mat got
Turf Cracks. 167
OA most affectionately with his old charge, till there
came Tom's whisper from behind—"Poor old Mentor /"
and the whole party were dispersed in a second.
Even General Chasse, as gluttonous a feeder as ever
faced a manger, would pause in his swallow, and
grunt if he heard Bob Johnson's voice ; and Meretrix
became so fidgety from hearing Fobert's at exercise,
that he was obliged to employ a code of stick and
hand signals tovthe boy.
Charles XII. was a very curious-coated Purchase of
horse, and very delicate at three. Like Charles xn.
Touchstone, he had rather a queer time of it on Black-
stone Edge (over which Sydney Smith had years
before proved himself such a Hannibal in the " Im-
mortal"), as he stuck there for three hours, with every
trace broken, on his return from the Liverpool Cup.
In the same journey he had an equally narrow escape
on the Liverpool platform, and hung on the ledge of it
for minutes without injuring a hair. He came into
Mr. Johnstone's hands in rather a curious way. That
gentleman had always nursed the wish, while in India,
to own one of the finest horses that money could buy
on his return. Accordingly, when he did reach Eng-
land, he commissioned Tom Dawson to buy him one
for three thousand. " Better get two for that price"
was Tom's counsel, and Hetman Platoff was priced to
him at 1200/., and the Provost at 1500/. The latter
was not up to Mr. Johnstone's mark, and accordingly
a bid of 2000/1 was made for Euclid. " Vd sooner shoot
him than take it," was Mr. Thornhill's reply, and at
length it was decided to-give the 3000/. for Charles XII.
Mr. Johnstone had a thousand offered for his bargain,
but he refused it in real Thornhill style, and he was
never prouder of his resolve, than when two years in
succession he felt all the glory of winning the Good-
wood Cup. At first Charles's stock sold pretty well
at Doncaster, but at last he himself could only com-
mand a 20/. bid. He was then sold privately for 50/.,
i68
Scott and Sebright.
but the vendee forfeited the 201, rather than take him.
His tail was so short, and his back so down, that even
Tom Dawson stood at the ring side and asked what
he was.
tj . ™ f «• Hetman Platoff had much finer speed,
Hetman rlaton. - - 1^11 1 1 11
although Charles stayed rather the best,
but still John and Bill Scott always fancied, that if
Hetman had not put out a curb, he would have been
the A 1 on the St. Leger day. He was a wonderful
weight-carrier, and of such boundless nerve that he
would have walked among a park of artillery and never
moved a muscle. The Melton farmers first told John
Scott of him when he was a yearling, and pathetically
described him as half-starved in a field near Stilling-
ton, " with a half-bred colt, which had got master of
him." Mr. Bowes and John made a rapid descent on
that village, whose smoky alehouse and its indigestible
Noah's Ark bacon dwell upon John's mind yet; but it
ended in Colonel Croft selling the colt for 200 guineas,
and engaging to pay his St. Leger forfeit ; and Mr.
Bowes took half of him. The bad fare of the day
was made up when Bill joined them at The Black
Swan at night, and " Nancy" Martinson waited on
them.
industry and Industry was pretty, but as nervous as
Ghuznee. Hetman was bold; and the Brown
Duchess she met in the Oaks was not of the Saxon
mint. Caroline Elvina, who went to help her, was
" without exception the finest-looking mare that ever
was at Whitewall and Ghuznee was " only fourteen-
three on the Oaks day ; but a perfect rattler. The
latter was also one of the many proofs in John Scott's
mind that " very superior-looking legs go the quickest,"
as she had rest and green meat for a fortnight after
Ascot, and her sinews were quite crooked when she
was taken out of the box.
Launceiot. Launcelot had enormous speed, and
pulled even harder than his brother
Turf Cracks. 169
Touchstone, with his head right into his chest. In
fact, hardly anyone could hold him ; and the hunting
curb which Bill selected for his St. Leger race, was a
most formidable affair. He had rather heavy shoulder
points, a short neck, and not very good ankles, and
John Scott considered him fully 21 lbs. better than
Maroon. After the St. Leger he lay two days in his
box, and it is a miracle how he contrived to reach The
Salutation at all. Meteor, after the Two Thousand,
was in nearly the same plight, but he was such a
chronic cripple, that his lad had to chase him about
his box for an hour or two before a race, to get him to
"act" at all.
Satirist was soon forgotten at Malton, Satirist's st.
but not the joke about his Doncaster Leger Trial,
trial. The Corporation Steward took up the chains
and held his peace, and the neat-herd who was charged
not to tell anyone, gave the office most freely. In
order to disappoint them, the Pigburn party arrived
at the Moor about half-past three, and found only a
few sweeps and Irishmen in attendance. As it rained
hard, they were most politely invited to share the
Rubbing-house, and then the Scott party slipped out
and locked them up till it was over ; and squared the
" false imprisonment" with half-a-crown's worth of gin.
It was rather a hard matter to bring off a trial at Don-
caster, and on one occasion the blacking pot had to be
freely used on their legs and faces, before the horses
set out from Pigburn. Attila's Newmarket trial at
two years old was quite in the dark, and . .. , T . ,
Colonel Peel's Hardinge and Sir Harry _
had just tried him half-a-mile on the limekiln-hill,
when the renowned J. B. arrived with a lantern to re-
connoitre. John Scott could not see the horses, but
he knew from Attila's peculiarly quick and delicate
step, that he was coming away in front two hundred
yards before they finished.
He was a cheap 120/. bargain at two years old, but
17° Scott and Sebright.
Jacob's Bet about not a lucky horse, as he was got at three
Attik. times, and was coughing sadly before
the Drawing Room Stakes. On the Derby day, after
Jacob had discharged his plating functions, he stationed
himself near the winning post with Charley Robinson,
and waited there in the most boundless faith. A
stranger presumed to doubt him, when he said,
" Yon!It precious soon see his white feace first" and
clenched his opinion by a sovereign bet. With a
presence of mind, which Yorkshire can never cease to
venerate, he added, " Fit just tak hold of your horsds
head, and Fit thank you, sir, not to stir fra the spot;"
and suiting the action to the word, he secured
his man and his money. It is on record that he
and his companion gave away a barrel of beer to
the multitude, and that in the hilarity of the mo-
ment he would have signed a week's truce with the
touts.
Jacob on a Tout That fraternity's experiences of the de-
Hunt. ceased are of a most doleful kind. He
was long in partnership with an American dog, which
Mr. Harry Hill bought at a baker's in Knightsbridge,
and sent for John Scott's acceptance as an Under-
Leadbeater to Whitewall. The dog had been regularly
educated to track slaves, and hence it took to touts
with the highest imaginable zest. At times, the pair
would come to a check at the foot of a tree, and when
Jacob made his eye-cast among the branches, it be-
came his turn to give tongue, " Now Fve got ther, thoo
must, and thoo shalt come doou," and when his brown-
and-white friend, had enjoyed a good muzzled worry,
the game would fly Malton-wards, bawling ten thou-
sand murders. Well might one of them confide to his
Malton allies, " It's not that John Scott, but his old
thief of a blacksmith and ' Captain' that I'm afeard
011."
The old Pottery course is now so built upon, that
the most imaginative mind cannot conjure up the idea
Turf Cracks. 171
that Attila ever won a Champagne Stakes over it, and
that it ever witnessed a struggle between The Poten-
tate and " The Alderman's" King Cole. King Cole
Marlow won no less than two dozen races
on this son of Memnon, and the Buxton Cup three
years in succession. Hp never had a horse so difficult
to handle, as he always hung to the left, despite a
Magogian pricker; and if the running was that way
round, he could hardly be kept off the posts. Holmes,
who got on him at exercise at Liverpool, voted it the
worst mouth he had ever touched, but it was not
inherited by his hunters and carriage horses, which
were always at a premium in the district. At the
first time of asking, he departed with Marlow down a
lane at Bridgenorth, but got such a refresher for it,
that he wiped off his maidenhood very quickly at
Ludlow. Marlow always considers that his Chester
Cup was an enormous bit of luck. He lay in front
with 7st. 81bs. to the Castle Pole, and took the lead
at the distance, and Lye, who watched nothing but
Birdlime, could never quite reach him, and was beaten
a neck. The Potentate always beat him afterwards,
and was a good 7lbs. better at least.
Marlow, who began life as " a feather" Marlow and Old
on the same day and in the same race as John Day-
Sam Rogers, got another good race for The Alderman,
still more out of the fire. It was a hundred sovereign
Stake, and all the money at Ascot; and The Deputy
went there on the chance of getting his stake back,
not to run. Accordingly Marlow, who had sole
charge of the colt, made this proposition to old John
Day, when they met at scale ; but John could " settle
nothing till I've seen my Lord Lichfield and so
saying, he seated himself on the weighing-chair, and
called " eighty-seven." Sam Darling sat there quietly
tapping the toes of his boots with his whip, and pro-
bably thought more than he said, but Marlow did not
fail to mark that the generally accurate John, and
172
Scott and Sebright.
Doe, the trainer, had overlooked the 5lbs. extra on
The Corsair, for winning the Two Thousand. John
then went to seek out Lord Lichfield, and was not a
little surprised when he returned with his lordship's
consent to give back the stake, that Marlow should
meet him with "I've altered my mind; Fit have all
or none; — but we'd better make haste, it's getting
late'.'
It will do now, thought Marlow, when he had John
fairly in the saddle, and cantering and whistling, and
singing, as was his wont, down to the post; but still
he was not quite comfortable, and he took care to get
alongside of him, and keep him in conversation upon
things in general. Mr. Davis started them, and they
merely cantered to the distance ; but when the black
was set going, he smashed up the chestnut in a trice,
and went nearly to the Swinley Course post before he
could be stopped. The chestnut " wanted no stop-
ping;" but when John arrived back, Marlow placed
eight twelve in the scale. "Ididn't weigh that',' said
John. u I know yGU didn't',' was the reply ; " but you
ought. Where's the penalty ?" " Fetch the bridlesaid
John. "Better bring the horse," said Marlow; "it
will be a new kind of snaffle if it zveighs %lbs." John
was fine weight as usual to begin with, and he could
not stir the beam. " You did that very well, my boy ;
I give you great credit," he shouted to Marlow, as he
rode past him off the course, and away he went
whistling and singing once more. Job Marson and
Taylor made the same mistake with Aphrodite, in
the Doncaster Stakes, but one of the local reporters
found it out, and gave Job the hint, to Nat's intense
disgust.
Sam Darling Not to have a word on old Isaac and
and Isaac. Sam Darling would be a strange omis-
sion indeed, and one that Warwick would not overlook
in a hurry. Sam was ever true to his boyish impres-
sions, and never thought either him or Hesperus quite
Turf Cracks.
173
so wonderful as Mantidamum, by Sir Solomon. On
that horse, at Stafford, with 3|st. of saddle-cloths, &c.,
he beat Dick Spencer and Jack Hayes, both great
men on that circuit, but they had their revenge at
Holywell, as they combined on Ambo and Stella, and
fairly drove him into the Ditch. " Fll have yozi some
day," he muttered, like another D'Israeli, when he
met them in the weighing-house, and we should rather
think he had. When Major Pigot gave up his horses,
Sam, at his mother's particular request, did a little in
the yard-wand way, at Oxford and Worcester ; but
he longed to wear the silk instead of selling it, and he
went to Mr. West and old Sadler, at Bibury, to tuck
up his cuffs in another cause, and carry out his great
principle, that " any man may wait, but it requires
a wise head to make running."
But we must put him on Isaac, who History of Isaac,
made his start on the Turf at the York
August of'33, as the " gr c. by Figaro, out of Jack
Spigot's dam," and was beaten any distance in a two-
year-old field, by Colonel Cradock's Emigrant. Like
his half-brother, he had a pretty wayward temper, and
paid the penalty of it. Sam first marked him in a
Maiden Plate at Liverpool, two years afterwards, and
took such a fancy to him, from the way he finished
second to Luck's All, in the first heat, that he confided
to Tom Speed, that he had got his eye on a treasure.
He was sent by Mr. Ord Powlett, in the autumn to
lead gallops for The Potentate, at Doncaster, and
bolted near the Neat-herd's House, and took a little
of "the bark off his leg." He was put up on the
Thursday, and Mr. Sharpe began to bid for him ; but
stopped, under the idea that he had been fired ; and
when Mat Milton took a turn, Sam got close to him,
and put it to him confidentially, whether " those great
flat feet will ever suit the London stones." Hence
" gr. g., by Figaro, 46 guineas, Mr. S. Darling," was
the sale entry; and Isaac Blades, who then trained
174
Scott and Sebright.
him, was so angry, that " such a rip should be named
after me," that he cut Sam, and never spoke to him
again.
The grey appeared in a Hack Stakes, winner to be
sold for fifty, the next week at Liverpool; but Sam
agreed with Mr. Sirdefield, who was second on Aratus,
about the cross claim. The race was run off by
moonlight; and near the Canal turn, the light-blue
of Isaac was leading. " Is it over yet ?" said Sam to
Mr. Sirdefield. " Oh ! not yet, I think," was the reply,
and Sam set the grey going again. He repeated the
question over his shoulder at the distance, and then it
was, " Oh!yes! Yes, Sam! it is all up, now? When
he next came to Liverpool, Harry his brother Sam
Darling had taught him jumping with Lord Fitz-
hardinge's. He dwelt a little at his jumps, in conse-
quence of being rather down in his eyes; but still he
pulled off 176/. over the hurdles. He got 30/. more
at a little Ellesmere meeting, on his road home, after
Sam had run half over Liverpool in search of a
Shropshire paper, which had the conditions. Isaac
Day begged a mount at Bibury, and returned him
with the assurance that his own back would never be
itself again after the job ; but he was ridden by Sam
in almost all his flat races, of which he won forty-six.
He went lobbing easily along, with his head out, and
was great in dirt, as Caravan found to his cost, and
went best when Sam kept shouting at him, " Come
along, old un? His victories at Warwick, when he
belonged to its M.P., were looked at both from an
electioneering and a racing point of view, and Isaac
Day was sadly disappointed that he never could get
Sam chaired. Amidst all his triumphs, he nearly
died at Knutsford, and the guard of the coach went
so far as to hail Sam, who was Newton-bound on his
hack, and tell him that his horse was dead, and all
Knutsford talking of it. Lear arrived at the races
with the intelligence that he was better, and in a short
Turf Cracks. 17 5
time he succeeded in walking, by seven-mile stages,
to Kynnersley, near Croome. Two miles was his
favourite distance; hut at half-a-mile less, Modesty
could always do him. Still, if Isaac was beaten over
a distance of ground, it was by a pace which left its
mark upon the winner.
His Ditch-in race with the five-year- weighting him
old I'm-not-aware, in which he had 22lbs. for the Audiey
the worst of the weights, and made all End'
the running, gave (Admiral) Rous such an opinion of
him, that he put lost, on him for the Audiey End.
" I sharit want you to ride him, Captain Rous," said
Sam, rather grimly, when they fell to chatting in
front of the Rooms, next morning. " What do you
mean now, Sam V said the Admiral; " Oh! I thought,
Sir, you handicapped him to get a mount; according to
your weights, there's not been such a horse in New-
market since Sultan." However, taking the line
through Roscius, there was not much fault to find
with the weighting. A hurdle race in the Novem-
ber of '42, saw the last of him in public, and then
Mr. Robins, of Stoneleigh Park, gave him a run out
for four or five years, till he had to be shot for
infirmity. Sam occasionally saw him in his retire-
ment, but he " took no notice of me for good or
evil." His skin now covers a favourite chair, and his
portrait adorns the old inn sign at Bourton and many
a bar-parlour down the Warwick and Worcester
way.
Scotland's finest sportsmen seemed The Old Scot-
fated to die in their prime. " Willie tish Cracks.
Sharpe" still relishes his coursing at Knockhill and
his training at Hambleton, with a zest which deserves
better luck; and Mr. Merry has crept quietly on since
he was content with the little Paisley bouts of poor
Edgar on Beadershin, till he has made his yellow
jacket a name of dread across the Border; but where
are the other gallant chiels who were wont, year after
Scott and Sebright.
year, to meet in the stand portals at the Caledonian
Hunt ? " The Inches of Perth, girdled as they are
by the bright and brimming Tay ; the short but try-
ing bit of green carpet on the Firth of Clyde, where
you are within hail of ' the auld clay biggin,' where
the Ploughman Bard was born ; the base of that grim
grey keep, round which Forth winds its silver links;
the fair regions of Tweed, or Musselburgh's dead flat
margined by the snell and gurly sea," hold high
festival for them no more. Sir David Baird, the
hardest man, not barring Assheton Smith and Dick
Christian, that ever fought his unswerving way
through the bullfinches of Leicestershire, and. Sir
Frederick Johnstone, live only by Mr. Gilmour's
side in the Melton Hunt picture. Sir James Boswell
can never again tell of the pluck and bottom of his
Pugilist over Amesbury, or banter " The General" in
return, when he reminds him of General Chasse and
his Ayr dose of " Tincture of Myrrh." Lord Drum-
lanrig, " the doucest lad of them a'," no longer keeps
the country side alive, and leads Joe Graham and his
field across Dumfries-shire. William Hope Johnstone
is no more among them, with an Era, a William le
Gros, or The Returned, that winner of his two
memorable four-mile steeplechases in succession at
Eglinton Park; and Mr. Meiklam cannot whisper
his last order to " Simmy Templeman," and then tell
him how well the new blue-and-white stripes look, on
which he has set a special loom to work, and bid
them not mind the expense.
" The Turf, The Chase, and The Road," all drooped
in Scotland when " Mr. Ramsay and the Hounds"
ceased to be a toast in Mid Lothian, when his Laner-
cost or Inheritor were not under cup orders for Ayr,
and when his mail-coach team, with himself or his
good friend from Ury in command, no longer stepped
gaily down Leith Street towards cannie Aberdeen.
He had his summons when he had barely lived out
Turf Cracks. 177
half his time, and in the autumn of'61 the crape on
the Caledonian Hunt scarlet, and the words of sorrow
to his memory, told that one still more radiant
element was wanting in the great gathering of Scottish
sportsmen. " Eglinton" was one of them The Late Lord
in every sense of the word, and the Eglinton.
thistle on his racing-jacket was no unmeaning emblem
of his love for his " ain countree." No one enjoyed a
game more heartily on the ice, the sward, or the
racket-court; and there was scarcely a non-professional
to beat him at billiards. " Major quo non major" was
the neat tribute on the monument of his favourite
greyhound; and old coursers will tell you exactly
how his Waterloo took and worked his hare over the
Flat; and how that son of Dusty Miller beat Gracchus,
the Ashdown crack, on his own ground, and was
looked on, in Scotland, as the veritable champion of
the smooth interest against the rough. The history of
the " Eglinton Tartan" from the days when Queen
Bathsheba first bore it, till Coroebus and Fandango,—
that last great struggle between it and the Zetland
spots, gave us one more glimpse of old times,—needs
no more recitals. Political duties claimed him, as
they had done Lord George; and he seemed to have
quite forgotten his way to Doncaster. " Nimrod" de-
clared that the late Duke of Beaufort was the most
popular man in England ; but the Earl of Eglinton
was the most so in the three countries combined.
The Irish loved him for his frankness, his impartiality,
his Viceregal munificence, and his nice turns-out;
the English reverenced him as the soul of honour on
their favourite Turf; and his countrymen delighted
in his hearty national feelings, whether he was play-
ing golf at St. Andrew's, or laying his chaplet with
manly eloquence in the resting-place of Burns.
Sir James Boswell had a strong dislike sir James
to dividing a race or a course, and 011 one Bosweii.
occasion he ran three No-goes rather than give in.
N
178 Scott and Sebright.
He also disliked exceedingly to see his horses
punished, and his last orders to his jockey were inva-
riably to that effect. In General Chassis case he was
perforce obliged to be silent on that head. -The
General's Ayr defeat by Myrrha never seemed to be
forgotten, and was married to " immortal verse," in
which the mare " only gave her tail a wag," and of
course won as she liked. The " black and white
stripes," men said with no little truth, did not
meet the mare on equal terms, as their champion was
quite stale with a twelve days' walk from Doncaster."
Fobert has never yet been weaned from his first love
by any of his " Spigot Lodge" flyers, and quite be-
lieves that in these times of comfortable railroad tra-
veiling, Chasse would have been a wonder. No one
understood his peculiar temper better than poor Jack
Holmes, or managed it so nicely in a race. He never
would make his own running, and liked to come once
for all a few strides from home. All distances and
weights were much the same to him, but he wanted
a severe hill to bring the leaders back to him at the
finish, which was the reason that Liverpool suited him
so well.
Myrrha and Myrrha was a low, cart-breasted mare,
Philip. by Malek (own brother to Velocipede)
out of Bessy, whom Mr. Sharpe rode as his Edinburgh
hack, and, as in Enamel's and North Lincoln's and
Kangaroo's cases, there was quit-e a rush for her dam.
She was traced, with some trouble, to a cab-stand in
York; but death had come to the rescue some months
before. The people liked as much to see Sim (whom
Mr. Sharpe first brought down to Scotland, when he
was light weight to Mr. Lambton) in the Elcho blue
and black cap upon Philip, as Southrons did Nat on
Lady Wildair. Philip was the death of Ballochmyle,
and stuck to him so resolutely in some four-mile
heats, at Gullane, on a very warm day, that the bay
died in less than five minutes. The races had been
Turf Cracks.
179
removed that summer from Musselburgh to Gullane,
on account of the cholera; and when that Caledonian
Hunt was held at Cupar, in which Harry Edwards
won his celebrated race on Terror, six or seven
hearses went past during the afternoon entry; and
the races almost seemed like a death-dance round the
plague pit.
Gullane was once the Malton of Scot- Gullane
land, and half-a-dozen horses busy at
their o\ shaped work in the " myres" served in
1861 to keep up a faint association with Lanercost,
Inheritor, and Despot, those knights of the straw body
and green sleeves, who were once the presiding genii
of the spot. The house where all the Dawsons were
born and bred nestles at the foot of the hill, on which
stands the rude wooden lighthouse, keeping watch
and ward over the deep blue seaboard of the German
Ocean, and we could hardly wonder that I'Anson has
always kept his " Caller Ou" impressions, as the
breezes " fresh fra the Forth" swept over us that July.
On one side the yellow harvest fields of East Lothian
were waving; and Dirleton's woods grow green and
fair down to the very edge of the beach. Following
the " gently curving lines of creamy spray" to the
right, the eye rests on the Bass Rock,—ever clan-
gorous with sea-fowl, and standing out blunt and bare
from its wave-washed base—and the cone-like emi-
nence of Berwick Law; while the distant range of the
Fife Hills takes us back to Johnny Walker and
his "dearies" before his View Halloo was heard at
Wynnstay.
Like Ambo, who revelled over the 7 . . . _
_.r ,, ' , . 1.1 ^ohrab and Co.
Mostyn mile, and Chanty, the third
Great Liverpool Steeple Chase winner, some of the
best Gullane geldings took to the road at last. Wee
Willie, Zoroaster, and Clym-o'-the-Clough, all came
trotting out at the sound of the horn, to take their
turn in the fourteen miles an hour Defiance; and
N 2
i8o
Scott and Sebright.
Pyramid, who led out of Edinburgh, when two bays
and two greys, cross-fashion, was Mr. Ramsay's de-
light, worked himself stone-blind in the cause, The
old Ury lion was roused once more in his lair, and
horsing this crack coach from Lawrencekirk to Aber-
deen, and driving it many a stage, was as great a boon
to him as getting up his dog Billy's muscle for another
fight, or going through solemn pedestrian exercises,
for the same end, with " my friend Tom Cribb."
Scottish Coach- Even the gravest Edinburgh professors
ing Days. liked to see the Ramsay coaches with
their rich brass-mounted harness, and the scarlets
and white hats, when the dashing young owner was
on the box, and Alick Cooke, Jim Kitchen, George
Murray, and Jamie Campbell were the reigning
favourites.
inheritor and Mr. Ramsay hunted the Carnwath
the Ramsay country as well as the three Lothians,
Lot' and as he did not scruple to give 1500
guineas for Lanercost, 1000 for The Doctor, and 850
for Inheritor, " Nimrod " might well find in him al-
most the only breathing embodiment of his memorable
Quarterly Review labours. His Inheritor was an old-
fashioned weight-carrying hunter, with very long
quarters, and big ribs and gaskins, but with rather a
light ewe neck, and thinnish shoulders. Blinkhorn
the trainer always compared him to old Walton, and
said that his " action spoke vengeance : " and Harry
Edwards, after he had won two Liverpool Cups on
him in '37, declared that he had not been on such a
horse since Jerry. In The Trades' Cup (in which he
carried 9st. 4-lbs. the highest weight it has ever been
•won with), he fairly kicked Snyders out of the race at
the post, or as Harry phrased it in the weighing-house,
" We just gave Snyders one-two for himself, and
settled him." Vestment was a more chubby, but an
unlucky sort of horse. He split his pastern, running
with Queen of Trumps, and " turned over here and
Tiirf Cracks.
181
there," and finally received such a severe cut to the
bone, that he died of a lock-jaw. Despot was long,
low, and dark brown ; very honest, but with no great
constitution ; and The Doctor, by Doctor Syntax, out
of a sister to Zohrab, had especially fine quality, with
nice symmetry, and ability to carry weight.
Tom Dawson considers Lanercost the Lanercost
finest-grown two-year-old he ever saw,
and when he came up at that age to Tupgill, he could
hardly believe he was the same yearling, " all belly
and no neck," which he had seen at The Bush, at
Carlisle, just after Mr. Ramsay had given 130/. for
him, because he was by his horse Liverpool. In fact,
his crest became so muscular, that " we might have
put a saddle on and fitted it." As a two-year-old, he
was tried to do a good thing with Aimwell, on the
High Moor; but forcing him on for the trial spoilt
him, and he went all to pieces during the winter, and
had no business to come out at Catterick. His defeat
there by Jemmy Jumps was a sad disappointment to
the Carlisle division ; but the spirits of his nominator,
"Jim Parkin," never failed.
This Cumberland Squire was a singu- Mr. James
larly handsome man, of a commanding Parkin,
height which quite carried off his bulk, and with a
fund of mellow humour which never seemed to fail,
whether in the hunting-field, on the coach-box, the
yeomanry parade, or at his own table. When the
great North Road was in its glory, and the Glas-
gow, the Edinburgh, and Portpatrick mails used to
be changing horses almost together in Carlisle each
afternoon, and "the little Glasgow mail," with its
two horses, achieved its thirteen miles an hour, then
was Mr. Parkin in his glory too. It was strange,
indeed, if he wasn't seen waiting at the Bush door,
with his low-crowned hat, and his hands in his capa-
cious pockets, and a droll good-humoured word for
everybody, from baronet to ostler, to work one of
182
Scott and Sebright.
them to Penrith ; or if the night was peculiarly in-
viting, as far as Lancaster. If there was a steeple>
chase or a horse show, he would be in the thick of
it, keeping every one on the grin with his quaint
comments and suggestions. If a Cumberland Eleven
had to be carried to Greystoke, or anywhere to play a
match, he would invariably get up a team of greys to
take them ; and it was said that he was so sincerely
disgusted when the rail was first opened between
Newcastle and Carlisle, that, having business among
the Black Diamonds, he went down by the coach
to Borough Bridge, and got on to the Newcastle
mail there, and home again the same way, thus
nearly doubling the distance. In fact, he was so
fond of driving, that there was a county joke against
him, that when in London he sent in the driver and
conductor one night to have a glass, and then utterly
regardless of passengers and time-keepers, drove the
omnibus four miles to Hammersmith without a
check.
His bachelor home at Greenaways was quite a
curiosity-shop, in the way of driving-whips and fox-
brushes, and many was the quiet little party he used
to have there in the days of the Inglewood Hunt.
The hounds were then kept in kennels on the banks
of Tarn Wadlin, where the pike and the cranberries
flourished together, and on summer evenings we used
to have drags right round the edge of the lake. The
hunting field would have seemed as nothing without
him and his grey; and although his weight, which at
one time was fully twenty stone, precluded his going
across country, his knowledge of short cuts, and his
power of knocking a padlock to pieces with the butt-
end of his whip, or getting off and fairly crushing his
way at one shove through a fence, with the grey wait-
ing on him, combined to make him a very rare ab-
sentee at the Whaw-hoop. For racing he did not care
much ; but he nominated Lanercost for all his three-
7urf Cracks.
i S3
year-old engagements, and made one of the Cumber-
land quartet, which used to book the inside of the
coach or mail, and go to Catterick, Newcastle, and
Doncaster, to see him run that year. They held the
firmest belief that he would prove to be one of the
best horses the world ever saw, and that Harry Ed-
wards, who was then living at Carlisle as a vet., and
getting occasional mounts from Alderman Copeland,
or John Scott's stable, was the only man who could
get him out.
And so he did at Newcastle, but The „„
Hydra who was " not in the same day
with him at home," got so near him that Tom Daw-
son was far from satisfied. He began to come very
quick after that, and he was tried very high with St.
Andrew before the St. Leger. Flat, thin-soled feet
were always his bane. Walking up and down in front
of Belle Isle he got a stone the size of a bean into
one of them, which nearly lamed him, and stopped
him in his work for the Liverpool Cup ; and the next
year at Chester (the scene of his daring attempt as an
aged horse to give the fresh four-year-old Alice Haw-
thorn e 51 lbs.), his soles were quite festered, and he
was nearly on his head at the Castle Pole. I'Anson
used to say, that his feet were as good as stable-ba-
rometers at last, and that he would fall lame as if he
knew it was going to be hard. He was gross and
sluggish to a degree, but became less so with age, and
" passed his life in great eating and great work." The
heavier the weight the better he liked it, as the three
most celebrated Scottish geldings Zohrab, Potentate,
and Olympic discovered at Eglinton Park. In fact, it
seemed to make him much more lively, and Colonel
Richardson always declared that " with thirteen stone
he would pull walking."
An incident at Dumfries proves how Outwitting St.
Lord Exeter's invariable plan of having Martin,
a cut at the favourite for the off chance, is far too
184
Scott and Sebright.
often neglected. Lanercost had beaten St. Martin
twice at the Caledonian Hunt, and the pair came on
to Dumfries and were both entered in the Fifty
Pound Plate. In his gallop, Lanercost fell lame, and
I'Anson had only time to get to the boy, and tell
him to slip him into Mr. Wilkins's stable close by,
before any one found it out. The leg was so big,
that it was quite thought that the back tendon had
gone, but fomentations through the night reduced
it sufficiently to let him just walk on to the course.
St. Martin's party had not got wind of it, and
brought their horse to the post merely to try for a
compromise. Cartwright's orders on Lanercost were
to walk from the post, and pull up if Sir Martin
offered to make a pace. He was spared the pre-
caution, as Lye turned his colt round, the moment
the word was given, and left Lanercost alone in his
glory.
The rivalry for the Ayr Cup was then so great
among the Scottish dons, that Mr. Ramsay dare not
trust to The Doctor (although at 2st. he had upset a
great Liverpool pot on Deception that year) when St.
Bennett was to do battle for Eglinton Castle, and
Lanercost was accordingly prepared for it.
Labours of His four-year-old labours that Sep-
Lanercost. tember and October were equal to those
of a Hercules. On September 4th, he duly did the
needful for St. Bennett at Ayr, tried Easingwold for
die St. Leger at Catterick, the morning after he got
back to Richmond, and then walked off to Borough
Bridge on his way to Doncaster. At Doncaster he
won a Four-Year-Old Stake, and divided Charles
XII. and Beeswing in that splendid Cup finish of two.
The next week he was at the Liverpool Autumn,
trying to give Melbourne a year and 4lbs. in the
Palatine, and Cruiskeen a year and 39lbs, in the
Heaton Park; and running second both times.
Thence he was sent back immediately to Glasgow by
Turf Cracks. 185
sea, and won twice against Bellona and Malvolio at
the Caledonian Hunt. From Cupar, where he arrived
the night before running, he was vanned to Kelso,
where Zohrab and Bellona were no use to him for the
Berwickshire Gold Cup; and then through Hawick
to Dumfries, where St. Bennett and Malvolio met
him separately, but to no purpose, in the latter part
of that week. Mr. Ramsay thought that he had gone
to run for the Cesarewitch, but I'Anson dare not risk
it, and with true Scottish caution preferred the cer-
tainties near home. This brings him up to October
18th, and as his five races had been mere exercise
gallops, and he seemed to get tone every day, I'Anson
determined to put his head Heath-wards for the Cam-
bridgeshire on the 28th.
Between Dumfries and Annan his winning the
troubles began, by the breaking down Cambridgeshire,
of one of the horses of his three-wheel van, which was
hardly big enough for him when he was travelling
riight and day. For the last seventy miles he grew
so weary that he stood on his toes with his heels up
against the door, and propping his loin as he could.
Hence when he reached Newmarket he was so para-
lyzed that he " could hardly be abused into a trot,"
and to coax him out of a trot into a canter was quite
out of Noble's power. There was nothing for it but
to cover him up from nose to tail in his box, till the
sweat fairly poured off him, and he was so fresh two
or three days afterwards that he positively " wanted
to go shopping on his road to the course, and not
through the shop-door either." Still he settled down
at the post, and if Mickleton Maid had not mettled
him up so tremendously by the pace she made for
Hetman Platoff, to whom he gave nibs., Noble could
never have driven him in a sharp finish with such a
speedy customer as "Bowes's Bay." This was the
maiden year of the two great stakes, and although
some high weights and those three-year-olds have run
Scott and Sebright.
close up for them since, neither of them has been won
by any horse at 8st. 9lbs. Lord George might well
say, " What a wonderful animal he is! he neither
sweats nor blows!" and it only proves that race-
horses will generally do their best thing when they
have been a little off.
His After- His career after that was as variable
eareer. as ever. There was that short-head New-
castle Cup victory over Beeswing, with "The Young
un" so handy at the finish, that it did not speak very
highly for either the Cumberland or Northumberland
crack. Then he was snapped by Jem Robinson on
Beggarman at Goodwood; and then Beeswing set
him a task twice over at Kelso. With the high
weight and The Doctor in attendance he gave her no
chance in the Cup, although Bob Johnson offered
20/. to 10/. on his mare and lost it to I'Anson : but
she, would have infallibly won after the dead heat, as
the short preparation told in two miles, and there was
nothing to help that time. Next year he was carried
out twice in the Ascot Vase, first when Zeleta, and
then when Miss Stilton bolted, and could never reach
Satirist; and then he won the Cup, making all his
own running. After he was beaten " over the bricks"
at Newcastle by Beeswing, there was an order to sell
for 2500/., which I'Anson did not think nearly enough.
Eventually Mr. Kirby gave 2800/., with some con-
tingency (as Mr. Ramsay always maintained) about
sending two mares gratis. No one expected to see
him out again in '42, but John Scott wound him up
only to experience the same see-saw luck, a brilliant
performance at Chester, and a poisoning at Ascot.
His stud career in England tapered away to nothing,
but we began to think of him again in the evening of
his days at Chantilly, and reflect on the folly of over-
doing a horse when he first goes to the stud, when
we saw Cosmopolite winning under any weight, and
noted that the dam of Nutbush was by him.
Turf Cracks. 187
Between Lanercost and his dog (for The Love of
which Goody Levy offered 5ol. and Lanercost for a
would have gone on), a most devoted Dog"
friendship existed. Lanercost and Cabrera walked
half-way to Doncaster together from Swinton before
the meeting of 1841, and then the former was sent by
the Malton Road to Pigburn, to be delivered to John
Scott. The dog took no notice of the severance at
the time, but during the Doncaster week he was miss-
ing. It seems that although he had never been there
before, he went straight to Pigburn, found out Laner-
cost's box among all the others in the different yards,
and rushed in at stable time.* It was a question
whether horse or dog seemed most pleased at the
meeting, and although the latter was treacherously
coaxed t>ut with a cat, he would not quit the yard.
During the night he climbed to a loft above the horse,
and after revenging himself for the cat cheat on all
Jacob's ferrets, he departed for Doncaster, and met
the bellman, who was calling him, in French-gate.
The fox, which a too confident hostler would pitch
against him, and the gentleman who would have
another peep at Lanercost in the van as the horse was
crossing the Mersey to Chester, did not forget this
sentinel very easily, and his dog opponents seldom
survived their engagements.
It is a curious coincidence respecting Blue Bonnet
Our Nell and Blue Bonnet, which won
the Oaks and St. Leger in '42 out of Tom Dawson's
stable, that neither of them had ever run in public
before, and neither of them ever won again. Blue
Bonnet broke down twice as a two-year-old, and was
thrown up instead of going for The Ham. Dawson
got her quite sound by the following August, and as
with The Biddy turned loose to make running, she
beat the five-year-old Charles XII. by a head at
2st., and scattered Galanthus, Moss Trooper, and
Aristotle pretty widely over the High Moor, Tom
188
Scott and Sebright.
Dawson had every right not to be much frightened
of Attila "with his Goodwood race on him," on the
St. Leger Day.
, Whitewall never received a thinner-
o ers one. yearijng ^■|lan Cotherstone from
Isaac Walker's hands, and at two years old he was
always amiss. He was very fat before Doncaster, and
The Era beat him in his trial. Bill Scott said he
went fast and tired, and when he did not get well off
in The Criterion, which was alike fatal to " Daniel"
and " The West," and only ran a dead heat for the
Nursery, Mr. Bowes said, " Pit sell," and John Scott
said,"/'// buy." No bargain was made, and after
Christmas he went into work again, with All Fours,
and as he was " always on the old horse's back, and
he never deceived us," Bill was sent for, and so were
Sim, and Nat, and Frank, and "all the swells."
Cotherstone's Bill got on Cotherstone and followed the
Trial- old horse, but in the bottom he felt so
satisfied that he had never been on so good a colt, and
that it was a sin to show him up, that he swung him
a little out of the course, and left the rest, Parthian,
Armitage, Greatheart, Castor and Co. to finish as they
liked. Sim was the only one who was up to it, but
Colonel Anson was quite sceptical, even under Bill's
assurance that " I coidd have won to York." However,
Mr. Bowes got on at good odds to win 20,000/., but
then came the teething troubles. The horse was sent
to Newmarket for the Riddlesworth, "quite beautiful
from fever," and in such pain that for a week he would
only lick cold mashes, but the teeth came through
just in time, and Lye lost 700/. on his Pompey
mount.
Attempt to The Two Thousand made him a hot
Hocus him. firsj- favourite for the Derby, and the
effort to get at him at Leatherhead was worthy of
adaptation at the Adelphi. The man with the little
bottle of stuff in his pocket who pretended to be
Turf Cracks.
drunk, the foray of Bill (who was quite a police-
sergeant on the occasion) and Markwell into a cock-
loft under the pretence of wanting a bed, the squaring
of the carpenter, the finding of poisoned oats in an
old stocking on the top of a clock, and a packet of
brown powders in the church porch, are all clearly
part and parcel of a tremendous " sensation drama."
However, it all ended well, and Bill declared that he
could have won if necessary by fifty yards.
We had not seen Cotherstone for a Visit at ai-
seventeen years since the day he broke thorP Paddocks,
down so heavily at Goodwood. Hence we combined
the coming-in of the new Spencer hound era and the
going-out of the old blood stock one, into the same
day ; and when our Brixworth survey was ended, we
drove off through Chapel Brampton, past Harleston
Heath—so dear to Payne and his Pillagers—and very
soon exchanged the flags for the foals. The paddocks
are partly at Harleston and partly at Althorp, in the
proportion of fifteen acres to eighty ; and the former
were planned by Squire Andrew, after whom the sire
of Cadland was named.
They are delightfully roomy and' comfortable, with
a sort of grey antiquity about them which takes one
back insensibly to the old Grafton and Bunbury days ;
and if these young occupants do not quickly learn to
recognise and love Mr. Wilson, in his white hat, blue
blouse, and extensive beard, they must be most deeply
ungrateful for his care. His aspect was a little start-
ling and Republican at first; but we found his flow
of animal spirits and quaint vocabulary perfectly un-
impaired under the coming parting from his brood
mares. He had done a little jockeyship in his day,
and it was on Helena by Rainbow from Urganda
that, in 1833, he won the first race ever run
over Chantilly. Isaac Walker and he were origi-
nally at Bloss's together, and it is somewhat re-
markable that the one should have had the nursing
190 Scott and Sebright.
of Cotherstone in his foalhood, and the other in his
old age.
Cotherstone in A noble avenue of trees leads from
Retirement. «Cotherstone Hall" right down to Al-
thorp House, and the sweet white Wicket, which was
grazing with her Storm foal in the centre of it, gave a
charm to the scene, which made us doubly regret that
even the inauguration of the Pytchley era should en-
tail the dissolution of the Cotherstone cabinet. The
door of another shed bore a plate of Wryneck, which
recorded in almost illegible characters how she won
300 sovereigns for his late lordship at the New-
market Craven of '44. This mare was from Gitana
by Tramp, and the first he ever bought. It is about
nineteen years since Mr. Wilson took the head of
affairs, and then Gladiator came for a season. The
first Earl Spencer (the Shorthorn and Exchequer
Earl) bought Cotherstone for 3000 guineas in '44,
before he broke down at Goodwood; and when he
arrived in his van, his fetlocks almost touched the
ground. He is " not much of a dandy now but on
seeing the well-known bit of blue, he came whinnying
up for a recognition. As it happened, he was quietly
grazing ; but he is for ever on the move for a regular
set of constitutionals, which consist in walking round
and round his paddocks, or on the sunny side. Well
may his friend observe that "He looks as if he was
matched against Mountjoy, and had nothing to do
but to make haste." His jumping up is his oddest
trait, and he sometimes greets Mr. Wilson by going
off all four legs, just like a lamb.
His Stock colts and fillies have been
about equal in numbers, but the first
fourteen out of sixteen foals after the horse was
thrown open to bond fide tenant farmers, all fell colts.
True to his sire's charter, he has very seldom got a
chestnut. His blood has hit well with Slane's and
Priam's, and Mr. Payne had no reason to repent his
Turf Cracks. 191
Althorp fancy in Glauca's and Farthingale's year.
Stilton was quite his best, and if he could always have
been wound up as he was for the Metropolitan, he
would have fought Stockwell and Kingston hard for
the supremacy of '52. He gave Evadne and Paddy-
bird, both of his year, 2olbs. easily, but he never got
off at Chester, and was not in the race till quite at
the finish. The Chester Cup has always been an
unlucky matter for Tom Dawson, as he has been
second five times, and once second and third.
Orlando's first race at two years old Orlando's
was a Produce Stake at Ascot, in which Maiden Race,
there was five to four on him, and great betting. All
the seven had orders to wait, and John Day, junior,
who was on Wetnurse, considered that go or wait he
would be out of it. Walking down to the post, he
heard Nat, who was very cautious in money matters,
propose to Rogers to hedge rides, and he accordingly
chimed in with, " Well, if it's a good thing for Sam,
it's a good thing for me; yotid better let me do the
same!' "A very likely thing," said Nat; "your little
pony has no chance." " Welti well!" rejoined John,
" never mind, I'll stay you up, though you are on such a
grand one? Mr. Davis started them; three-quarters
of a mile over the Old Course, but the only response
they gave to his " Go" was to stop and look at each
other. " Mind, I've started you /" he observed, and
left them ; and on they walked for a hundred yards.
" This is a pretty thing ! none of you, seem inclined to
take the lead; shall I take it for you ?" said Young
John. Then Robinson struck in, "For goodness'
sake, John, canter or do something, or my horse will
bolt'.'
Thus encouraged, John led the phalanx, which were
pulling all over the course, at a slow canter ; but when
his mare got her feet on to the road for the Brick
Kilns, he stuck the spurs in and stole fifty yards in
an instant. The others had to begin then, and Nat
192
Scott and Sebright.
upset his horse with following her. John stopped his
mare at the distance, and let Orlando reach his girths,
and when he heard Nat's " Chick ! chick !" he knew
that the little man had begun to drive the crack. He
could only sit quiet and hold his mare, and she just
won a neck, tiring every stride. The Stand thought
it was a false start, and when General Peel went to
ask John about it, he thought it best to refer him to
Jim " the schoolmaster." And well might they call
him that, and agree that for patience and fairness in a
race he was unrivalled.
Young John One of John's most tremendous races
Day's Win on was on Wiseacre, who was a terrible horse
Wiseacre. tQ an(_j fejj ]ame jn Jjjs joints,
and went to nothing. The Ham Stakes at Goodwood
was a very remarkable finish, and the handling on
that occasion was equal to Sam Rogers's celebrated
Findon win of 1861 on Caterer. John's orders were
not to be second, and he went and tried to catch them
at the distance. Then he suffered, and made another
effort half-way up, and crept to the girths of the
leaders, without asking his colt a question. Firebrand
and Barrier were beat on his right, and he just thought
he might land him, and getting up inch by inch, he
hit him twice and just won a head. Nat trotted back
on Chatham under the firm impression that he had
won, and it was in vain for Sam to try and undeceive
him. " John Day won ?" he said ; "he was beat off at
the distance, and I've never seen him since John was
so weary with the job, that he could hardly sit on
his saddle, and after he won the Prendergast, the
stirrup broke, and he made a second finish by going
to grass.
Death of Franchise was the first great winner
Franchise. for Alfred Day, and it was by the merest
chance that she was trained at all. A purchaser had
his offer of three in a straw-yard. He chose the
other two, and left her, although she might have been
Tttrf Cracks. x 93
his for 20/., aifd hence her owner trained her in de-
spair. At last, she broke her near hindleg short off
in a gallop near Sadler's Plantation ; the leg spun
round in the air, nearly hitting her lad, and she
was left staggering on three, till William Day gal-
loped home for a pistol and shot her through the head,
as soon as there was a moment's cessation in the
plunging.
Of the fictitious hero of "The Run- "RunningRein"
ning Rein year," a celebrated character and st. Law-
still observes most feelingly, " What is the rence'
use of winning a Derby, if they don't let you have it ?"
He was own brother, it is supposed, to one of our
most celebrated runners; and he got upset in his van
on board ship, and died soon after he was taken off.
Such at least is the legend of this dark offender. St.
Lawrence was one of the Irish division originally, and
began by running second for the Madrid Stakes. No
horse was nicer to wait with, and like Sweetmeat, a
jockey could put him just where he liked. He never
varied a pound from his form all the time that he kept
the clock at Danebury, and save and except the yellow
bay Spume, on whom he won fifteen races, there was
none that Young John loved better to ride. Speed
was his point, and he never showed it in a higher
degree than when he beat Garry-Owen, who gave him
only 5lbs. over the T.Y.C. He arrived at Danebury
when he was four years old, and became such " a cal-
culating boy," that if he found he couldn't reach home
he would stop in the last hundred yards, and he did
so in the Suffolk Stakes, and again across the Flat in
the Craven.
The story of The Baron is somewhat The Baron
on all fours with Touchstone's, but as the
playbills have it, " a period of eleven years elapses."
John Scott was again on the Liverpool Stand with
Earl Wilton and another nobleman, when he saw the
chestnut beaten. He was as fat as a bull, and had
o
194 Scott and Sebright.
bar-shoes and fearfully festered soles, «and had been
made twice the savage he was by muzzles. Still " The
Wizard" thought he had a St. Leger in him. And so
he went to Malton, and a very rough snappish custo-
mer they thought him at first. He was well physicked
and then rammed along behind old All Fours, and as
John Scott says, "took more work than I ever gave a
horse in my life, and required more management."
He was tried at Pigburn at the St. Leger distance to
give As You Like It a stone, and did it with nearly a
length to spare.
i&go Iag°> the Whitewall Leger horse of the
next year, was quite as game, but he
wanted speed. Still he would have outstridden the
lazy Poynton at York, if Cartwright, who was riding
Sheraton, had not got at the brown's girths for the
honour of Mr. Meiklam and the stable, and given him
three such stinging strokes on the quarters, that the
horse, although one of his sinews had been cut by a
hoof-hit in the race, dare not dwell any longer. Tem-
pieman was hard at him at the time, little looking for
such a Blucher to aid him. Iago was rather short and
high-legged, but for a horse of that make he stayed
well. His head and back were beautiful, and his
temper very good, but his stock were generally very
short of temper and wind as well.
The b. Green B. Green's and the Grafton scarlet were
Two-year-olds. jn every one's mouth in '47, and Hamble-
ton began at last
"To raise its head for endless spring,
And everlasting blossoming,"
till Voltigeur's Derby knocked it out of time. The
party of which the ex-Manchester traveller was the
ostensible chief had some thirty-five in training, and
won thirty-two two-year-old races. In fact, every two-
year-old they brought to the post that year contrived
to rub off his maidenhood. At Chester in '49> they
Tyrf Cracks, 195
won ten races,*the Cup among the number, with the
eccentric Malton, who would not go into a stable,
unless the door was a very wide one, and would then
canter right in. Sometimes they could manage him
blindfolded, but to make matters all right at Chester,
they hired a coach-house. Teddy Edwards and Win-
teringham did the riding part for the stable, and
Basham, who first rode as a feather at Stockton-on-
Tees in '45, on sister to Andover's dam, had a few
light-weight mounts.
The Confederacy gave 500/. for Assault, Two-year-old
the same for Chaff and Flatcatcher, 350/. Trials,
for Beverlac, and 150/. for Swiss Boy; and acting on
the approved fashion, bought their own brothers the
next year. They tried them in November, but B.
Green did not care to go and see it come off. If s
no use my going to see it," he used to say ; "you can
tell me what's firstf and he comforted himself at
home with his snuff and cigars. He also delighted in
whisfi and billiards, and was very clever in watching
the market, and managing his betting-lists. Before
the trial, it was quite expected that Beverlac, who
wanted no spurs, was the best of the three, but Assault
won by two or three lengths, and Beverlac was beaten
as far from Flatcatcher. The second trial ended the
same way, and their forms never changed' till Bur-
lesque knocked up Assault, and he could never be got
sound again. The trial was kept so quiet, that the
public rather stood Beverlac, and 15 to 1 was taken
about him at Chester for the Derby, a year before the
race! Harry Stebbings had always an immense
opinion of Flatcatcher, but he overdid it with him,
especially in the St. Leger, by not giving Robinson
waiting orders ; and he refused, it was said, 3000/.
from the French Government for him.
Danebury seemed sadly down on its The Purchase
luck in the early part of '46, as Old John of Cossack,
was very ill at the Gloucester Coffee-House, and there
o 2
igO Scott and Sebright.
were only twelve horses in training. Such a remark-
able lot never followed each other at exercise before,
as five of them won two Derbies, two Oaks, a One
Thousand, two Newmarket Stakes, and four of the
great cups ; and Conyngham, a future Two Thousand
winner, came later on in the year. Pyrrhus the First
was bought as a foal with his dam Fortress for 300/.,
after Old England was tried, and was half Mr. Gully's.
Cymba and Mendicant were also there, but Cossack
was the best of the bunch. J ohn Day first heard of
him from Dilly, when he was at Northampton races,
and consented to accompany him to Mr. Elwes's of
Billing, and look at two Hetman Platoffs for Mr.
Payne.
Dilly liked the brown, but thought the chestnut
rather upright before, and too small as well. His
companion was greatly taken with the latter, and after
trying in vain to get him for 200/. and a Derby con-
tingency of 1000/., he sent a 200 guinea cheque, and
sold the colt for the same sum to Mr. Pedley during
the Gorhambury meeting. Mr. Elwes had asked
Charles Marson to go and have a look at them, and
Mr. Coape, who trained with him, would have bought
them, but he did not just fancy the blood, and al-
though he went past the very Park wall, he did not
even care to look in. Had he got Cossack, the first
and second for the '47 Derby would have been in
his stable, and the heavy War Eagle hit would have
been averted.
„ , Valentine threw all her stock leggy,
War Eagle. , TT7 „ . .
and War Eagle was no exception, and
fully sixteen-one. He pitched in his slow paces, but
for a mile he was immensely fast, and if he was held,
he would run on, but not go far when he was once
in distress. His finest turn of speed was when he cut
down Volley from the post at Doncaster. In the Cup
he followed The Hero "just like clock-work," and
came the moment Sam Mann touched him with the
Turf Cracks. 197
spur. Mr. Payne said of his Newmarket Stakes race
with Cossack, that it was the fastest he ever saw. It
was in fact like two races, as the pair came right
away by themselves leaving a cloud of dust behind
them. Mr. Bouverie would not hear of War Eagle
waiting, but ordered him to " come away and beat
them right out." War Eagle had a little the best of
the start, on the whip hand, but they were soon at it,
head and head, all the way up the cords. Sim never
moved, but "felt for him," and when his horse
answered his hand so truly, he felt sure that the
Derby was over.
Cossack was a delightful horse to ride, never pulling,
and always as ready as a shot, when he was wanted.
A strong pace was his delight, and he could make it
for himself, and except when War Eagle headed him
coming down the hill, he led in the Derby from The
Warren to the winning-post.
Hero was quiet when in front, and The Hero
rather too free if he was behind, and
liked to run big and above himself. He was rather
shelly at three, but he thickened amazingly after-
wards. In wet ground he could not move at all, and
Footstool made a sad exhibition of him at York in
consequence. Young John Day was on him in his
first race, the Woodcote Stakes, and his last the
Goodwood Cup, and he has used one or two good
hunters by him, Nelson to wit, with his harriers.
Still as a sire he was not very valuable, as his stock
from thorough-bred and half-bred mares ran rather
small, and when fever in the feet set in, and he could
hardly move in his box, he was vanned down to
Hermit Lodge, where his Grace the Duke of Beaufort
stays during the Stockbridge week, and shot and
buried in the garden.
Chanticleer was a horse of great con- Chant;cieer.
stitution, but always touched in the
temper, and in fact "a perfect mad horse," when
198
Scott and Sebright.
I'Anson first got him at Liverpool. Robertson stuck
to his head in one of his frenzies, but he became so
bad at last, that they were glad to get the lad out of
the horse box by the window. He had thrown him-
self down in the box, and the stall had to be taken
out before he would consent to go in it again. When
he got to Hambleton, Harry Stebbings used to say,
that he would just as soon be off the Moor when he
was on ; but I'Anson gradually got him quiet, and in
the next year he did all his best things. Still he
would not go up a passage, but roar his dissent like a
bull, and kick by way of variation for a whole day.
He was a free goer, and had fine pace, and if he was
above himself he could stay with most of them, and
go equally well on hard and soft ground.
Canezou and Two miles over the flat suited Canezou
Springy jack, best, but still she could stay much fur-
ther if she had assistance. She always wanted much
management in her training, and so did Springy Jack,
a nice smart goer, but as heavy-fleshed as a bull, and
quite competent and willing to eat up to his weight.
There never was such a somnolent horse, as he would
lie down and go to sleep for two or three hours, as
soon as he had emptied his manger, and no training
could keep his legs in order, with such an ever increas-
ing top. Butler seldom rode a horse more desperately
from the distance than he did him for the Great York-
Maid of shire, and finished on him bare-headed ;
Masham. but Maid of Masham was not to be got
rid of. If a jockey only sat as still as Sim did that
day, she was one of the sweetest mares to ride, but a
great martyr to windgalls in the knees, which were so
bad that Tom Dawson did not wish her to run. And
well he might not, as she took nearly an hour bring-
ing on to the course from Middlethorpe, and they had
to knock her about most unmercifully to get her warm.
Eiierdaie F°r Ellerdale, who won this stake for
r a ' the same stable the year before, the York
Turf Cracks. 199
course seemed to have a hidden charm, and she never
seemed so unsettled, when she had to run there, as
she generally did during her absence from Middleham.
She was a delicate, second-class mare, and rather
lacking in speed. Tom Dawson always says that
hers is the only case he ever saw of.a sinew slipping
inside the hock. It occurred when she was at exer-
cise, and she pulled up on three legs, and kicked so
furiously from the pain, that he quite thought she had
broken her leg. Full a fortnight elapsed before she
could touch the ground, and she was trained no more.
At the stud she threw winners to everything she was
put to ; and in the first five seasons, Ellermire, who
beat the speediest field that has been seen in modern
days at York, Ellington, Wardersmarke, Gildermire,
and Summerside came in succession. Never did any-
thing look more thoroughly the type of an English
brood-mare as she walked into the Grimston ring,
with the well-nurtured 1500 guinea Nugget, looking
as big as herself, at her side, and gazed round for the
last time at her Yorkshire admirers. It was 500 to
600 in no time, and so on to 1120 guineas, but the un-
tried Gildermire quite overlapped her, and got up to
1260 guineas.
Such bidding quite petrified an old tyke, who was
wandering round the outer circle. " Oh, dear! it
beats me" he observed, resting on his staff; " these
gentlemen—they get fuller of money at the latter end of
the day f and could only account for it by saying that
she was such " a well performed mared
The Yorkshire mind had been stirred Sale of stock-
to its utmost depth by attempts to solve well and West
the great problem, whether Stockwell Australian-
would sell "for more than " Westy." With true local
pride they hoped he would not, but yet they felt
sure he would, and the speculation in crouns and pots
principally ran on the point whether or not the chest-
nut would touch five thousand, and the brown four.
200
Scott and Sebright.
St. Albans brought the former gallantly up, and
the thousand soon became four thousand five hundred.
We never heard such a price bid in a ring before, and
yet there was no apparent enthusiasm. All of it was
reserved for " The West." " Here comes the pick of
England? said they, as he emerged from a gate be-
hind, and strode with his beautiful white reach head
aloft into the ring. There was quite a thrill as the
biddings slowly rose to three thousand, and a sort of
burst of suppressed impatience and vexation when no
one could beat Count de Morny. " He carit be re-
leased," said a tyke close by us, in such a melancholy
strain, and down went the hammer. There was quite
a fond rush after him for a last view, but somehow or
other he was only an ordinary horse to look at when
his head was out of sight ; and his stock, considering
the chances he had, justified the dubious verdict
passed upon them when they first came out in 1857
at Tattersall's. And so this grand sale passed
into history; and when shall we see 20,689 guineas
again made in one afternoon, twenty-three brood-
mares averaging 409^ guineas, one brood-mare and her
two brood-mare daughters making 2990 guineas, and
three St. Leger winners, chestnut, brown, and roan,
standing up to the hammer in the self-same ring ?
The Late Lord When all was over, we strolled quietly
Londesboro'. across the Park—so fresh and beautiful
from the rain, that leaving such a spot made death
seem doubly terrible—and lingered for a few minutes
near the house, among its rich ribbon borders, its
laurel banks, and its grotto.
The Armourer, with a skin as dark as Saladin him-
self, conducted us among his glorious collection of
sword-breakers, thumb-screws, and coats of mail, and
tried in vain to stir us up to enthusiasm upon horns of
tenure and Damascus blades; and anon we took
refuge from positively the last shower of the evening,
under the gigantic tree which shades the remains of
Tttrf Cracks.
201
the retriever Sal, the faithful companion of the late
Lord " in all his changes of residence and fortune."
The paddocks joined the Grimston plantation on
our left, and just above the wall we could see the top
of the gilt coronets surmounting the private gate
which communicated between the two. His brood-
mares were his lordship's delight, and even his yacht
Ursula which won the Emperor of the French's cup,
ranked second. In his days of comparative health he
was always in his paddocks, on his bay pony, chatting
to Jack Scott, and watching the yearlings as they
ripened for Tattersall's; and when he could ride there
no longer, he would be among them in his pony
carriage. An accident in rook-shooting, which sprained
or broke a small tendon in his foot, was the beginning
of his last illness, and with the consequent loss of
active exercise, his gradual break-up commenced, and
no sea-breezes could fan him back to health. He left
Grimston in September, and slept there but one nigh
the following month, and then he bade good-bye fo
ever to the place which of all others he loved best1"
Grimston church is pulled down, and another has been
erected on the site to his memory. The family vault
is in an enclosure by itself, just to the right of the church-
yard. Four small trees, cypress or arbor vitse, mark
the corners, and at the upper end a honeysuckle, which
had half fallen from its hold on the wall, leant over, and
pointed almost to the exact spot in the vault, which
contains that pale, fragile form we all remember so
well.
Van Tromp was an exceedingly idle VanTrom
horse, but not at all deficient in speed. P'
The St. Leger day was his best, and he had won his
race a mile from home. Marlow had backed him for
the Derby for 2001, after his race with Wanota in the
Mersey Stakes, but he did not think him in his Liver-
pool form, when he saw him at the Derby post, and
felt most keenly that any slur in the public mind
202
Scott and Sebright.
should have ever been thrown on Marson. On the St.
Leger day, he was quite a different horse, and we can
only summon up three or four during the last twenty-
five years that seemed to our mind just so ripe on the
day. Marlow always considered that "The Dutch-
man" stayed better as he grew older, but that his
staying arose rather from the fact that his speed was
so tremendous that no horse could get him out, than
from innate gameness, and hence for a really hard cup
fight, when both were in their prime, he would have,
preferred being on Van Tromp. Never did horse win
an Ascot Cup in such an unflinching style as Van;
but if Nat had persisted in waiting to the Stand, in-
stead of trying to take up the running soon after the
last turn, when he got nearly a length, Marlow would
never have got a pull, and Van could never have
answered to the whip as he did. Single-handed,
Chanticleer ought always to have got the last run and
beaten him, but still there was hardly 3lbs. between
them either way.
Marlow and The Marlow's experience has been a pretty
Dutchman, extensive one. He looked after Water-
watch when Lye rode her for the Oaks, and spurred
her almost in the hips. His maiden victory was won
when he was a lad at Lord Warwick's, on Gab at
Cheltenham, beating his beloved Waterwitch, who,
hoAvever, furnished him with win No. 2 before long. Still
even his maiden win did not delight him so much as
when he first got on The Dutchman (who was fully
2ilbs. better than Elthiron), and followed Van Tromp
up the gallop. They only went half speed, but he
returned him with " Well! Mr. Fobert, I was never on
such an 07ie as this before." Marlow never rode him in
a trial, and always with a curb, as hard pulling was
one of his specialities, and he once took the bit in his
teeth, and gave Jack Sharpe a rough ride of it on
Middleham Moor. His stride was immense, and. he
always showed his fore shoes, but as a two-year-old,
Turf Cracks. 203
nothing could ever make him gallop except Escalade
at Liverpool, and although he won by a length, Mar-
low smiled to himself when he read how "cleverly" or
" easily" it was done, and noted how the seers dwelt
all winter on " the fact, that this magnificent son of
Bay Middleton has never been extended."
At the Derby, Marlow lay in the middle The Dutchman's
of his horses up to the mile-post, and DerbyRace-
found that he could beat all before him. Round the
turn, Hotspur came up so unexpectedly on the right,
and so like a winner, that for a moment Marlow could
not make out what it was. Nothing was in the "race
after the turn, but the two and Tadmor ; and as the
Dutchman seemed all muddled and confused in the
deep ground, and perfectly inactive in comparison
with his old self, there was but one thing, viz., " to sit
and suffer." Hotspur went over the dirt like a swallow,
and shewed no signs of coming back till within three
strides of home, when Marlow, who had a length to
get, strucfe his horse twice (the only time in his life
that he ever touched him), and the last stride gave
him the short neck. He was quite sure he had won,
as he said to the lad who was waiting for him, " Old
felloiv !jit's a tight fit, but I've just done it." White-
house is not certain upon the point to this day,
but Marlow has no further remark to offer when he
begins, than " You, won at the wrong place, George;
you didn't win at Judge Clark! In the St. Leger,
deep as the ground was, The Dutchman won all the
way. The course exactly suited him, and he could
have almost trotted in, if there had been a bet depend-
ing on it. He also won his match as he liked, and the
Ascot Cup proved that Marlow had not overstated
his hopes, when he said to Butler, who had a wonder-
ful belief in Canezou that week, " You'll see what a
mess I'll make of you, to-morrowArthur Briggs
visited the great brown in France, and found him in
what English trainers call, "the condemned cells,"
204
Scott and Sebright.
near The Baron and Cassock, but he looked quite
down, and very unlike his old Middleham or Rawcliffe
self. With such views as our neighbours entertain on
stallion exercise, it could hardly be othenvise. Still
they contrive to breed many of their racers, with far
better substance than we do.
Vatican principal three-year-old rival, Vati-
can, was as full of quality as horse could
be, but latterly quite the victim of temper. He
nearly worried one lad walking from Ely, and savaged
another in a corner. On a race-course he was very
difficult to saddle, and once got loose at York, with his
bridle off, among the ditches. They at last built a
place at Hambleton, supported by pillars, where he
could stand and hit nothing when he kicked. He
was coy and very savage with his mares, and con-
trary to the usual rule, loved the satin-coated ones,
and they had to use bluffs and all manner of double
leading rein experiments for service. As is often the
case with very irritable horses, his stock were washy
and small, and the fine cross of Slane and Venison
was in his case quite thrown away.
Surplice. Among the ten St. Leger winners,
whose plates keep off the witches from
the stable-doors of the Turf Tavern, the home-bred
Surplice must not be forgotten, albeit we have got
him a year out of his turn. He was a very early foal
of January 24th, and Lord George took some Derby
double event bets about him at Goodwood that July,
and liked him still better when he got his measure
at the end of the next year. He was then fifteen
hands and rather leggy, and had arrived at that
Accidents to maturity in the face of two accidents,
Surplice. which made Cunningham tremble in his
shoes. The first snow shower he was out in terrified
him so much that he dashed at a wall and performed
a complete somersault into an adjoining garden.
That did him no harm; but when he was being
Turf Cracks. 205
lunged he made a slip, and lay for a few seconds
with his fore and hind feet right away from him, in
such a perilous position, that it seemed all over with
his back. Luck favoured him again, and he rolled on
to one side and picked himself up unscathed.
No colt had a sweeter temper, and he The Roaring
was such a rare walker that he could Humour,
almost get four times round the ring when Loadstone
and the other yearlings were doing it thrice. Nat
and Butler paid him a visit when he was a yearling,
and informed Colonel Anson and Lord George that,
from the throppling noise he made in grazing, he
must be a roarer. His lordship stopped at the
paddocks on his way from Welbeck to the races
next morning specially to listen; but as nearly all
the other fourteen were similarly afflicted, he com-
forted himself with the thought that " they can't
all be roarers," and listened to these augurs of ill no
more.
Siberia, the dam of Troica and Comfit, Beginning of the
was Lord Zetland's first racer, and he AskeStud.
gave only 35/. for her, which was about the price paid
for his Nickname by Ishmael, the dam of Augur and
Castanette, and the grandam of Fandango. This old
mare was eventually given to Bobby Hill, who sold
her to Mr. John Bowe of Richmond, the breeder of
El Hakim. Mr. Jacques had her next, and in his
hands she bred Massaniello, for which a thousand was
refused as a yearling. Comfit's death DeathofComfit.
was quite a tragical one. A gamekeeper
had hung his white pony to the gate of the paddock
in which she was grazing, and the mares became
alarmed. Comfit arrived in a gallop at the gate,
and tried to take it in her stride. She was within
a month of foaling to Newminster at the time,
and catching the top-bar with her fore-legs, she
rolled over and broke her shoulder. Staggering on
through the wood and holly bushes, she reached the
206 Scott and Sebright.
door of her own stable and fell. She was carried to
a short distance, and the foal, a fine colt, was taken
from her immediately, but some little delay occurred
in tying up the navel, and it lost a pint of blood and
died.
Voitigeur. Although the mares were pretty good
and bred well, the Voltaire colts did not
rank very high when Martha Lynn threw Barnton
and Voitigeur to him. They were generally heavy-
necked and heavy-fleshed, and it was these pecu-
liarities which made Lord Zetland and one or two
more of the Jockey Club men dislike Voitigeur when
Bobby Hill marked him as a yearling at Doncaster,
and begged his lordship to have a look at him. Their
verdict was pretty well confirmed when the colt came
up before Mr. Tattersall, and the " Take him away !"
soon boomed forth, as not a soul there would give
a hundred. And so he went back to Hart, to Mr.
Stephenson's great disappointment, and he' might
have been cut for the hunting field if Mr. John Brown
(a nephew of " British Yeoman and Black Diamond
Blakelock") had not once confided to Mr. Williamson,
when they were out coursing near Sedgefield, that if
he could only have it trained by Robert Hill, who
had once looked after his uncle's horses, he would
buy a racer forthwith, and that he had something in
his eye.
Purchase and Lord Zetland consented to allow the
Trial of Vol- colt to come to Aske, on condition that
ugeur. jle wag jent tQ jyj-r> Williamson, and
accordingly he arrived about the time of the next
Catterick races. He was put along quietly till his
Richmond engagements drew near, and then tried to
give Castanette, who had ju^t won at Doncaster,
I2lbs. and a year over three-quarters of a mile. His
victory was so hollow that they thought it could not
be right, and tried them over again next morning
with the same result. He had always thinnish soles,
Turf Cracks. 207
and ran these trials and his Richmond race in bar
shoes, but Lord Zetland had him plated, and for
the third time within the fortnight he was called
upon to give the mare the same weight. His lord-
ship came to see the trial this time, and had Ellen
Middleton put in to make a pace, and Cantab to
scramble where he could with i61bs. less than the
crack, who had a white hood on and positively came
in alone.
" This is awful; we ought all to be downright
'shamed of ourselves," groaned poor Bobby when he
saw his stable so completely cleaned out. It came
off over Richmond about two o'clock in the afternoon,
but there was not a strange eye, save that of Mr.
Rich, M.P., to see it, and his sporting constituents
were not one whit wiser when the shades of evening
descended. Their trial determined his lordship to
give the 1500/. which was asked, with a 500/. contin-
gency on each of the great events, and the luck of
" the spots" began.
Bobby Hill, who had a very intuitive nobby Hill's
perception of all stable matters, went at Training Notions,
him forthwith, and never had a man a finer bit of
stuff to work upon, as he was never known to have a
cough or a swelled leg. To keep up perpetual war-
fare against the latter was a great point with Bob,
and his favourite elixir was turpentine and cream.
He gum-bandaged nearly every horse he had. If a
privileged person asked him his reasons on that head,
he would reply, " They're a vast deal better ford? If
a non-privileged individual presumed to do so, he
would answer short: " to keep 'em reet, to be sur? He
was not the man to let his horses be idle; but be his
system what it might, the three-year-old Voltigeur
throve under it. He could sweat week after week
with twelve stone, lad and all on his back, and quite
deserved his most glowing eulogy, " his legs and feet,
my lord, is like hiron?
2o8 Scott and Sebright
Voitigeur at When he had fairly broken down
Epsom. Castanette, he was carried on by St.
Anne, but nothing came with him to Epsom. Job
had not a regular engagement from his lordship in
'49, and did not ride in the trials, but he had been
sent for, early the next spring, and seen enough to
make him tell his lordship and Mr. Williamson at
Catterick, that "I think well be about winning the
Derby'.' " Hell never gallop again till he gallops for
t'money',' said Bob, when he gave his colt the wind up
on the Friday before Epsom, and he kept his word.
The touts put out a very different tale, and (although
he had never been at more than half-speed) it was
all over London on the Sunday, that he couldn't
follow an Epirus gelding of Lumley's, which was
lent to lead him up the gallop, and he went back
to 30 to 1.
The Eglinton party, who were strong in their Ma-
vors faith, declared that he had no muscle, but other
eyes scanned him before the Wednesday, and he came
back to sixteens." He was within an ace of being
scratched on the Monday from sundry heavy forfeits
attaching to his nominator, and there was a doubt
as to whether Job could be released from another en-
gagement to ride him, but the right resolve was taken,
and the Aske housemaid who stood him, simply be-
cause he had " such a nice dark satin coat," won her
money like a woman and a Britoness. Rhadulphus
worked him between the two events, and as Doncaster
drew nigh, those who consulted Bobby received these
words for their comfort: "He's fit for t' job, or " He's
going tremendious slap I'
Bobby's Light- The latter expression was most freely
foot Fancy, applied by Bobby to Lightfoot before
Chester next year. He observed at exercise one day,
" Bedad, Mr. Williamson, that colt's a nailer; he
stretched Voitigeur's neck as sure as I'm sitting on this
galloway'.' John Gill thought he had got a Derby
Turf Cracks. 209
line for Neasham by trying him to give a Red Deer
colt of the same year iglbs. cleverly; and the latter
was accordingly borrowed and tried at the same rela-
tive weight with Lightfoot. Voltigeur was put in to
secure a pace, at weights for age with Bobby's delight
(who received 9lbs. from Rhadulphus), and pulled it
off by a length, and it was all that Rhadulphus could
do to beat the young un, while the Red Deer colt cut
up awfully. Job was on the young un, and rode him
out severely to the finish. His trial seemed both to
Gill and the Aske party to make him within 3 or 4-lbs.
of a Derby winner's form, but his Dee Stakes exhi-
bition was fearful, and he never could really gallop
again. Hunting he managed fairly enough, and while
Mr. Bell kept hounds, he performed very well with a
whipper-in.
Voltigeur's heart went next, and George Voitigeur's De-
Wallace and Hauxwell, who knew how clme-
gallantly he was wont to face that severe finish from
the race-course into the Aske grounds, found to their
sorrow that he began to fail " from the Sweating
Gates." It was all • very well for poor Bobby to
menace them with the pitchfork if they told any
one; the brown's match fate was sealed, and when
they tried him after his defeat, Rhadulphus told them
that he was fully a stone below his Doncaster Cup
form. His stock, which are generally whole-coloured,
whatever the mare may be, inherit his tendency to be
thick-necked (which he gets from Voltaire), with his
very fine substance, moving, and temper. It is diffi-
cult to say, as it was with him, whether speed or
staying is their especial forte ; but there is too often
an unsound one among them; and they take an im-
mense deal of preparation.
His finest nick was with Mr. Chilton's vedette
Birdcatcher mare, and from it came
Vedette, with Blacklock blood on both sides. Seeing
that luck had attended Mr. Bowes's nomenclature, he
p
2 IO
Scott and Sebright.
began the world as "West Hartlepool." Nothing
could have been more unpromising than his yearling
look, as his head was big, his middle like a brood
mare's, and his hocks very far behind him, and hence
much as his lordship liked the blood, he wavered for
some time, till Mr. Williamson used all his eloquence
in favour of " the ugly one." At last the 250/. went
the right way, and unpromising as the beginning
seemed, it is doubtful whether such a horse has ever
been at Aske. He had quite as little notion as Fan-
dango of leaving off, and for pace and staying as well,
if the trainers and jockeys were polled, he would have
as many votes as Voltigeur. When the chronic rheu-
matism was not troubling him, few had such action,
and as he went with his head down, he seemed to
" get all he stretched for."
He was the last horse that Job Marson ever rode in
public, and Job told the stable that Voltigeur the
second had been found at last. His first great trial
was at Catterick before the Two Thousand at even
weights, a mile and a half, with Ignoramus and the
four-year-old Gaudy, while Skirmisher received 7lbs.
He just won it, but when he and Ignoramus were put
together again over two miles of the same course, he
gave Lord Fitzwilliam's horse i61bs., and beat him
half a length. This course proved fatal to both of them
at last, as well as seven others from Aske, including
Sabreur, Zeta, and Fandango, and in every instance it
was the left leg which went.
Waking up Sabreur did not run at two years old :
Sabreur. aj- three his action was odd ; and the
attempts to prepare him did not improve it. Bivouac
gave him a stone, and did what he liked with him
before Newcastle the next year. He was only pre-
pared for a mile, and he showed no speed whatever in
the Members' Plate ; and as a forlorn hope, they
decided to give him a gallop for " The Guineas."
There must have been an immense reserve of power
Turf Cracks. 211
about the horse, which he did not know how to use.
As fate willed it, Ticket-of-Leave gave him a kick
inside the thigh, just as they left the post. It might
have broken his leg, but it did not, and mettled him
up to such an extent,- that he rushed through his
horses, and the jockeys having no telescopes with
them, saw him no more. In fact, he won by nearly
half a distance, and although he was lame for a week
after pulling up, he had his nerve fairly kicked into
him. He never lost it, and his form and stride ever
after were thoroughly altered.
Between him and Bivouac this happy His Trial at
kick made a difference of two stone, and Richmond,
when he had a rough Cup course gallop on Richmond
race-ground, ten days before York, he cantered away
from Volatile with 2st, Vanquisher with i81bs., and
Bivouac with I4lbs. less. The thing was done so
openly and so easily, that, although the public saw it
they had not the least idea what it meant. The New-
castle mode of cutting down the field did not answer
at Doncaster, and the "orders were given under the
impression that it would be a false-run race, to suit
The Wizard, who would be trying to stop the pace,
if possible. It has, indeed, been singular ill-luck
for "the spots," that after being disappointed of
Rogers for Ivan, and just losing by a head—neither
Vedette nor Fandango should have been in the
St. Leger, and that Sabreur should have cut himself
down.
Nunnykirk was " a fair horse—nothing Nunnykirk
more," with slack loins, a sweet head, and
still sweeter action. His brother, Newminster, was
not so pretty, but better ribbed up. He was tried
with the Exotic filly in the spring, and John Scott
thought him a great horse, but he ran dead amiss for
the Derby, and equally so at York, and even on the
St. Leger day he was not really himself. In fact, he
was never exactly able to show what he could do.
P 2
2 12
Scott and Sebright.
He went near the ground, with great leverage from
behind, and his style of creeping along without any
bustle was quite beautiful to see. We shall not easily
forget watching him as he stole down from the dis-
tance in his canter, little as we expected that he could
bring Aphrodite to grief. He was a bad walker,
quite, in fact, one of the " kick up a sixpence school
and Sir Tatton thought his slow paces so bad, that he
declined the offer of him at twelve hundred. He won
no more after the St. Leger, and as a sire he knocked
Teddington quite into the shade. To our minds,
Oldminster, who spent his yearling life in the Jervaux
Abbey paddocks with Dictator and Stanton, is the
most perfect model that he ever begot.
Teddington Joseph saw Teddington at three
years old, and was wonderfully struck
with his action, and bought him with the mare from a
blacksmith, at Stamford, for 250/., and a thousand
contingency. He was a trifle clubby in one foot, and
had to wear a long shoe, but he very early wound
himself into the affections of Sir Joseph's old groom,
by the style in which he walked away from all the
others, when they were in the breaking bridle, a test
which is in nineteen cases out of twenty almost the
only sound one by which a yearling's horoscope can
be cast.
His Yearling Sir J oseph made no bad bargain when
Form. he took Fernhill, Sponge, and everything
else at Fyfleld, down to furniture and stable-fittings,
from Mr. Parr for 3000/. The place, with its church
tower and straw-thatched buildings to the left, looks
just like the snug home of a well-to-do rector, with a
strong tendency to stock and white crops. There was
only room for eight horses there; but the bricklayers
were soon set to work, and now the accommodation
is multiplied eight-fold. Fourteen yearlings came up
from the Leybourne Grange Paddocks in the autumn
of the next year, and of these, a Venison colt, from
Turf Cracks. 213
Haitoe, was the only one which did not win or
show some running form. Teddington, The Ban,
Aphrodite, and Merry Peal were the most noticeable
among them, and The Confessor did not join com-
pany for a month or two later. Teddington's near
forefoot was still rather of the donkey order, and al-
though, by constant paring and attention, it was got
nearly right, there is a remarkable difference in the
size of his plates, which remain as trophies on Alick
Taylor's sideboard. As a yearling, he was always
getting his head up, and running away with the boy,
and hence his trainer was obliged to mount him for
the first three weeks himself, at exercise, to get him a
little into order. He had a rough gallop with the
two-year-old Slang in November; but he did not
seem up to his business, and was beaten a long way.
In March they were tried again at 21 lbs., and Ted-
dington won so easily, that they were put together at
evens, and with nearly the same result..
No jockeys rode trials at Fyfield in Sir His Two-year-
Joseph's day, and five boys never had a old Trials with
grander spin than when Teddington, APhrodlt^>&c-
Aphrodite, Storyteller, Confessor, and The Ban
finished in that order, with little more than a length
between the lot. Teddington had half a length the
best of it; but the very natural impression followed
that all five were moderate. General Peel then lent
his four-year-old lone, which had cleaned out his two-
year-olds at iolbs. ; but at ^lbs., Teddington finished
a length in front of her; and when he tried her at
evens, and three-quarters of a mile, over again, he had
just a head the best of it. He was short, and on high
legs, the only form in which a short horse generally
proves a clipper ; but unlike most short horses, he
never began well. On the whole, his two-year-old
season, what with his tumble and his very close wins,
was not a very prosperous one. After Goodwood he
was thrown up in a box till October, and with Bac-
214
Scott and Sebright.
chanalian to lead him, went on till before his New-
market race, when he was tried to be better than
Vatican at 21 lbs.
His Derby Aphrodite, who was not remarkable
Trial- as a stayer, was never measured with him
after two years old, and in the great Derby trial on
Middle Down, he gave 61bs. to Vatican, ran with
Storyteller at evens, and gave Ban 21 lbs., and
Gladiole 2st. Gladiole forced the running at her best
pace, but Vatican and Teddington (who was pulling
over him) caught her half a mile from home, and the
chestnut won so easily, that Taylor might well tell
Fobert, when they met at Epsom, that now he knew
through Vatican that he had a second Dutchman
at last.
Derby In fact, Sir Joseph thought the trial
Anxieties, t00 good. A week before the Derby
" the quicksilver fell," as the front of the shin of his
off foreleg festered and filled all round. Stopping
him, perhaps, did him good in every way, and the leg
came all right; but he rather fretted with the change
of stable at Epsom, and would do nothing more than
pick the split peas out of a little corn on the Derby
morning. Still his heart was all right, and as Job
said, " I had only to spur him once to get him out near
the turn!' He came with such vengeance that he
almost ran over Ariosto. " Where are you going to V
said Nat. " Beg your pardon, I can't hold my horse,"
replied Job ; and he just heard Nat's ready rejoinder
above the din of the thirty-two, "I wish I couldrit hold
mined The chestnut was no great match horse;
being in a cluster seemed to give him double con-
fidence ; and up a hill he was especially suited, as he
was all hind action. Giving Little Harry 2st. 5lbs.,
and beating him for the Warwick Cup, was a very great
thing, and even after his last Cup at Ascot, when he
gave 9lbs. to a horse like Stockwell, who seemed
fit to carry him, he was neither sick nor sorry. One
Turf Cracks. 215
of his back sinews began to give way that summer,
and that he had not left his heart at Ascot was pretty
well proved by the style in which he lived under
9st. ^lb. almost into the bottom in the Cesarewitch,
for which he was only half prepared. At the stud,
the Vulture part of his pedigree cut two ways, and
although the action and speed have been good, the
courage has been lacking as it was in his dam, and
no cross, however stout, could correct this tendency.
Harry Stebbings never considered that Kingston.
Kingston was so fit as when he met Ted-
dington for the Doncaster Cup. He had just been
tried, to give Hungerford a year and /lbs., and yet
"the canoe" carried I2lbs. more in that race, and was
only beaten a neck. The party were also deeply dis-
appointed when he was beaten at Ascot by Grapeshot;
but sadly as the hill told against his bad hind action,
Basham felt sure that he was beaten on his merits, and
revenged himself when he was taken off at Newcastle
by Backing Grapeshot to win him 800/., and leading
him back to scale. From to if miles was about
his mark, provided he had something to come away,
and as he grew older he began worse in short
races. Both Defiance and Lascelles were before
him in a great finish for the Craven Stakes at Epsom,
but he just defeated himself by trying to make a
pace, and by an alteration of tactics with Rataplan in
the Cup, he pulled off one of the best, if not his best
victory,
Both fetlocks touched the ground after Death of
his Whip breakdown, and one of his legs Kingston,
filled as well. Sir Tatton liked the blood, and would
have given 2500 for him, but Mr. Blenkiron, who
never will be denied, got him for 3000. He died at
Eltham, just as he was commencing his seventh sea-
son, within a fortnight of Omoo, whose post mortem
showed that she was in foal with twins by him, one of
which had begun to putrify, and so caused her death.
216 Scott and Sebright.
For his first two seasons, he got twice as many fillies
as colts ; but for the last three the numbers were
balanced, and he seemed to get them with more length.
An oak tree shades him, and a harvest has waved over
the spot where that beautiful Knight of the Silver-hair
lies buried.
The Cawston The Cawston stud owes its celebrity to
Stud- the advice which John Nutting the Eaton
stud-groom gave Hemming, to buy Phryne at the sale
in '45. He was sent to buy another, but she didn't
suit, and accordingly his lordship's 70 guineas was in-
vested in the daughter of Touchstone and Decoy,
which had just come out of training. Mr. Oldaker bid
for her, and offered Hemming 10 guineas for his
bargain, and " pay all your expenses as well but her
purchaser was inexorable. It seems that he had met
Bill Scott in the interim, and been solemnly assured
on that almost infallible authority, that he had got " a
mare fit to breed you a winner of the three events if
she's only used right." She broke to Pantaloon that
spring ; but Elthiron was the result of second thoughts
during that month that she was left. Pantaloon was
also hired for the next season at Cawston ; and Lord
John might well say to Hemming, as the white-reach
tribe grew up round them, " That's the best day's work,
Hemming, you ever did in your life, when you hired
Pantaloon and bought Phryne."
Pantaloon and Pantaloon was hired the next season
Phryne. for j cj0 guineas, and then 200 guineas ;
and he never went back. The cross between this
grand-looking chestnut and Phryne hit five years in
succession. He had a curious hatred to a boy or a
dog, and a peculiar partiality to a grey mare. Irish
Birdcatcher had somewhat similar notions ; but he
extended his antipathies to pigs and hens, and
turned quite savage if they crossed his path. Phryne
had spasms when she was in foal, and seemed to
get no permanent relief from them except she
Turf Cracks. 217
had a goat to go with her, which had tired of his
first love in the shape of his lordship's old charger
Helen.
She was always the pet mare, and on The Windhound
that eventful afternoon when Catherine Rout-
Hayes won the Oaks, and Windhound broke loose
among the fifteen mares, to " get hold of Phryne" was
Mrs. Hemming's first impulse. There never was such
a rout, and Cannobie, who was a foal at the time,
jumped a hedge and high rails on the off side, and
back-through the gate to his little dam, Lady Lure-
well. To judge from the hoof havoc in a Visit to
Dunkley's Meadow, there had been a Cawston.
second Windhound rout among the mares on the
afternoon of our visit, and it turned out that the North
Warwickshire had brought a fox across it from Frank-
ton Wood. The troupe were quietly grazing in the
next paddock, after the morning's alarm. Old Helen
had long been laid with Pantaloon and Rasselas under
the holly; but the flesh-coloured nose of the old
Camel mare, the crooked white reach of Miserrima,
which knew no crooked way up the Ascot Hill, and
Pearlin Jean, with that white fore foot in rest, were
all good to descry. But, alas ! the piebald pony, which
roamed amongst them, knew its good master's voice
and step no more; the new cricket ground on which
he had hoped that year to see Dunchurch beat Rugby,
was left half-sodded, and the roses and honeysuckles,
which were clinging to the clay walls of the " House
that Jack built," told sadly that another summer was
fulfilling its course, but not for him.
All knew and loved Lord J ohn, and as The Late Lord
a universal sportsman he was unsurpassed. John Scott-
Punt shooting, the leash, otter hunting, with his red-
and-white Gyp (which killed a thirteen-pounder by
herself, and then managed another, which stuck to its
tail), a bit of racing, or a little patronage to " the lads
of the Fancy"—whom he brought up in great force
2l8
Scott and Sebright.
under General " Dick Cain," to look after " The Brums"
on a polling-day—were quite in his line. His unfortunate
lameness (which arose from an injury to his ankle at a
stone wall, out hunting) debarred him from joining,
but he felt great interest in cricket; and one summer
he took two Rugby men, at his own expense, right
away to Scotland, to play in a match. In fact, he was
always doing something, either out of doors or on
paper, and he not only wrote an anonymous pam-
phlet on the currency, purely as he said " to bother
my old friend Spooner," but he proved himself a hard
hitter when he had an occasional turn at polemics.
There never was a mord liberal landlord ; but he quite
enjoyed the joke when one of his tenants, who paid
twenty-five shillings a-year for a cottage, and got two
substantial dinners at the audit as well, told him that he
really ought to have his rent lowered. His farms were
remarkably low rented ; and four or five years before
his death, when he considered that the farmers were
not employing enough labour, he spoke his mind in
such a Downright Shippen way at a Benefit Society
Dinner at Dunchurch, that the poor fellows had to
hang about the cottage doors no more with their hands
in their pockets. At the time of the railway mania,
he kept, like Mr. Assheton Smith, a regular look-out
for the " theodolite scamps." They did The Squire
of Tedworth, and managed matters comfortably
enough, to his intense rage, on a very wet Sunday,
when he was at church ; but Lord John was too sharp
for them, and when he and his watchers caught them
at work for the Leamington line, they pitched into
them, tore up their books, and sent them flying. He
was, however, the last man to bear malice, and he got
one of those he put to rout that day a most capital place.
n1, tt , His old charger Helen was by Octavian
6 e ' out of Lady of the Lake, and the first he
ever had in his life. Once he rode her for a bet up
the stone steps of the Bank of Dublin, when he was
Turf Cracks. 219
quartered there, to get a cheque cashed, and down
again with value received. Her dislike to a jockey
was extreme, and like Pickpocket, she insisted upon
his getting up with a great coat on. Queen of the
•Gipsies, by Camel, was the best of her sixteen foals,
and she went as a yearling for 90 guineas, and turned
out to be the speediest, bar Semiseria, of her year.
Among his stud Lord John was very fond of Miserrima,
" a good, fair mare," and the only one except Cannobie
that was kept, when Mr. Merry purchased the lot,
with Phryne, Catherine Hayes, LadyLurewell, Blanche
of Middlebie, Folkestone, Trovatore, &c. in it, for five
thousand.
Independently of his blood, Lord John H ... Nobl
had always specially noticed Hobbie
Noble from a yearling, in consequence of his hermit
habits. No one ever caught him in company ; but he
would come to a whistle just like a dog, and his lord-
ship would often take his friends out, after dinner,
and call him up to the garden wicket to be looked at.
The habit seemed to foreshadow "for the proud
young porter" that a 6500/. cheque was in store for
him, and that Her Majesty would send for him a
second time to the front of her stand at Ascot. He
was tried with Miserrima, who had just been second
for the Oaks, at i61bs. for the year, and John Day
and John Scott both thought it must be too good to
be correct. _ However, the former was pretty well
convinced, the next year, after he had tried him with
Little Harry before the Cambridgeshire, that he was
a very great horse. Windbound was never much,
although there is little doubt that he is Thormanby's
sire; and The Reiver, who got very awkward in his
temper, was a good stone below Catherine Hayes,
when they were two-year-olds together.
The lengthy Cannobie, who was left as n ,.
, , tV • r 1 Cannobie.
a legacy to Hemming, was of a cleverer
stamp than many of the Melbournes, and could stay
220
Scott and Sebright.
and race as well. He was coughing at the Derby
when he ran third ; but the public had not seen
the best of him, and but for the severe strain which
he gave his leg, by jumping the road at Newcastle,
when he was following Heir of Lynne, two days
before the Northumberland Plate, Mat Dawson quite
believed that he would have ripened into a very
superior Cup horse. Blanche of Middlebie seemed to
be as lengthy for a foal as Cannobie was for a horse,
and when we strolled to Cawston on our first visit
with " Dick Over," and found her at Phryne's
side, we thought that she and the firing of a chestnut
yearling's hocks by the late Mr. Lucas's hand, were
two of the finest pieces of workmanship we had ever
seen in one day. She did not belie her promise in
her two-year-old season, and swept 2900/. off the
board. On the Friday before the St. Leger, she was
tried on Weathercock Hill, at equal weights, with
Sunbeam. Saunterer gave them each 261bs., and
came through from end to end, and Blanche, who was
slightly carried out at the bend, was just half a length
behind him, and rather more in front of poor Luke
Snowdon and his first St. Leger winner. The black,
whose performance under 8st. I2lbs. in the Cam-
bridgeshire, and his reaching his horses like a flash at
Chester, stamp him as one of the greatest wonders of
the century, never lost his speed to the last; but his
near foreleg gave way in the Doncaster Cup. He
broke down hopelessly at Ascot the next year, and
twenty-five hundred was his price to the Austrians.
p , Beyond being the size of Miss Twick-
oca on as. enjlam ^am Teddington) Rock-
ingham did no good at the Stockwell paddocks ; but
The Baron, who came about the same time as Sorella,
made a double hit in his second season, with Chief
Baron Nicholson's dam, and Mr. Theobald's own
mare Pocahontas. The latter had been to Muley
Moloch for the three preceding seasons, and was
Turf Cracks. 221
bought as a four-year-old for 500/., after she' was
beaten for the Cup at Goodwood. She ran five times
afterwards without success, and her last performance
was for a Plate, at Chatham, where she finished second
out of nine. She was then five months gone in foal
with Cambaules, by Camel, but this grand cross was
lost to the world, as he took the influenza, and became
a roarer quite early.
Stockwell, her fifth, was a very fine Early History of
colt; but every one assured Mr. Theobald stockwell.
that he was too big. John Lowry was a most con-
sistent admirer of him, and as he was determined that
he should have " an honest race," he begged his
master, when he went to Brighton Races, to try and
see Lord Exeter, and received as his answer, "Put it
down in my book, my memory fails me." In due
time his lordship arrived, and the white-faced chestnut
was proudly displayed by John in the "burial
paddock." His lordship thought him too big, but he
went into committee with the old man, and after an
hour of most anxious suspense, the latter strolled out
to tell John, that he was to get his pet weaned as soon
as he could, and that he was to go to Burleigh. The
price was 180/., and a 500/. contingency if he won the
Derby. This information was clenched with a present
of a ten-pound note, and the promise of being put on
at 50/. to o at Epsom. The colt started in a month's
time, by the earliest train in the morning, and by way
of having something to " help him" through London,
John hired a cab, and led him close behind it. Lord
Exeter just made the purchase in time, as the old
man died a month after the colt had left; and his stud,
with the exception of Pocahontas and Sorella, was
sold by Mr. Tattersall.
Pocahontas foaled Rataplan the morn- Birth of
ing that Mr. William Theobald died, and Rataplan.
Rataplan became the property of Mr. Thellusson, who
gave him to his father. Lowry's earliest recollections
222 Scott and Sebright.
of Rataplan were symptomatic of the after-vigour of
the chestnut. " He got up directly," sa^ys his historian,
with admirable brevity, " blew his nose, and sucked his
motherd Luck attended the mare, and when she and
Sorella went to Willesden Paddocks, and the choice
lay between Don John and Harkaway, the trustees
chose the latter for the future Prunella, and King
Tom was the result. Thus from the nicks, of three
successive seasons, there came the respective sires of
St. Alban's, Kettledrum, and Old Calabar. Stockwell
made little out during his first season, as, with all his
fine speed, he never could be made fit enough to get
home. Still those who were near the judge's chair
will have it that Mr. Clark overlooked him in the
Prendergast Stakes, when he gave the race to
Maidstone.
Rataplan's Racing Rataplan always " went proppy" on
and Training his long pasterns, and at the best of
Hablts' times was only a middling beginner.
" Let him alone till he gets into his action," were the
orders which his jockeys received, and his " custom of
an afternoon" was to creep up to his horses at the
half-distance, and make one effort. His shoulders,
and not his heart, forbade a long struggle. When
Sim rode him strictly to Mr. Parr's orders at Edin-
burgh, he thought at one time that he should never
catch his horses ; but, perhaps, his most wonderful
race was when he won the Manchester Cup with
9st. 3lbs. Like Stockwell, his back power was almost
miraculous, and if he threw up his heels no boy aliv£
could sit him ; but when he did get rid of them, he
would walk straight off home to Ilsley. It was but
seldom that he took these vivacious fits, and seeing
that he generally contrived to stumble about twelve
times between his box and the Downs, it was never
safe to take him without knee-caps. There never was
a lazier one foaled, bar Lanercost and Springy Jack,
as he would lie full length while they plaited his
Turf Cracks. 223
mane, and go to sleep after feeding, with unerring re-
gularity.
King Tom, ft " Tom," as he was gene- Ki Tom
rally styled in the stable, was first trained
by Wyatt, at Myrtle Green, near Findon. During
the Doncaster meeting of '53, when he had been
beaten-at* Goodwood, and had won at Brighton, Baron
Rothschild finally agreed, after some highly involved
negotiations, to give Mr. Thellusson 2000/. for him.
William King brought him up to London, and so on
to Gorhambury, where he gave the two-year-old
Twinkle a stone with all ease in his trial, and on the
next Wednesday won the Triennial at Newmarket.
He was a good-tempered, light-fleshed horse, and with
fine speed, and ready for any distance that was set
him. Before the Derby, he was tried at 8st. 9lbs.
with Orestes 9st. lib., Hungerford 8st. 2lbs., and
Middlesex 7st. 2lbs. The last-named just beat him
by half a neck, and the others were nowhere. On the
Monday week before the Derby, he fell lame in the
off hock, or at all events somewhere in the ofif-
quarter, and as he did not do more than take a couple
of canters between then and the race, it was no
slight performance for him to separate Andover and
Hermit.
To carry a high weight for three- Lon°bow
quarters of a mile was Longbow's line, as 0
he showed so ably in the Goodwood Steward's Cup,
but his long distance running, especially when he met
Stockwell in the most muggy of days for the Great
Yorkshire, was most wonderful. Foreigners are in
the habit of giving wet hay as a roaring antidote, and
before Larry McHale ran his matches, John Scott
gave him a ball of lard, with some shot in it, to try
and keep down the lights ; but with Longbow he used
nothing but limed water.
Daniel O'Rourke, whose departure was Daniel
thus solemnly heralded in a Turf paper, O'Rourke.
224 Scott and Sebright.
" Daniel slept in London last night, previous to his de-
parture for Austria? at 800 guineas, was tried before
the Derby, to give Champion 7lbs., aftd beat Back-
biter at evens. Songstress gave him a stone, and a
beating after the Oaks ; and he first had his temper
spoilt when going in the van to Ascot.
" The West" finished him, as he was always on his
heels up the gallop, and made him turn coward. At
last he would kick and fly, and could hardly be got
on to the wolds; but Snarry's soothing manners
put him all right, when the scene was changed to
Sledmere. During his seven seasons there, Sir
Tatton bred upwards of 170 foals by him, and
fully two-thirds of them chestnuts. He was not
very lucky in getting colts from the Pyrrhus mares,
and although he suited with the Hampton blood, his
foals from the Sleight of Hand mares had more
power.
Little Harry Little Harry was just the reverse of
Mincepie, very good when the ground
was not deep, and John Day liked him so much after
the Bedford Stakes, that he got on at fifteens and
twenties to one to win an independency. If Danebury
had a sad disappointment, Woodyeates had one of its
grandest Chester triumphs that year, with little Joe
Joe Miller. who could get equally well
through wet or dry. He was never
fifteen hands, very sweet-headed like his sire Venison,
but shorter and most beautifully turned. Mr. Sadler
brejJ him, and Mr. Farrance bought him for 200
guineas at Newmarket. In the Metropolitan Stakes
he got knocked over by Miss Anne ; but in the
Chester Cup he got away in front from end to end;
and Stilton, after his bad start, could never reach him.
Grosvenor, in the same stable, was all the go for the
Cup that year, and Davis thought so little of Joe in
consequence, that Mr. Parker "got him" for 12,000/.,
at 24 to 1 after the Metropolitan, and again for 6000/.
Turf Cracks.
225
over the Ascot Cup, at half those odds. Like most
light-bodied and light-fleshed horses, Joe stayed well,
but he was cut for temper, and shot very early in the
day, and honoured with burial in the centre of the
Woodyeates yard.
The little wall-eyed Umbriel lured a umbriel
few, including one of the cleverest men we
have, into the belief that he was better than "The
West." Sam Wheatley, who had trained w . A , ,.
Haphazard and Agonistes for the then
Earl of Darlington, and been stud-groom at Cheveley
as well, gazed at the son of Melbourne and Mowerina
with intense delight, and declared that he had never
put his hand on a finer yearling. He, moreover,
backed his opinion by getting on first of any one, and
never hedging a penny.
Isaac Walker's annual jubilee com- Isaac Walker.s
prises the ten days during which he takes Annual Appear-
the yearlings up to Whitewall, where he ance arwmte-
stays Saturday and Sunday, after placing
them at school, and then proceeds to Doncaster as a
finish. For five-and-twenty years it had been his
habit to deposit his charges on the Friday before the
St. Leger. In old days, Tom Carter would show
up on that evening, and so would Ben Eddison,
full of dry observations on society, and ready, when
his county recollections of the Caunt and Bendigo
tournament were evoked, to show, with appropriate
gesture, how " Bendy felled him like a to-ad" Bill
Scott, who was never at the paddocks in his life,
always addressed Isaac on these occasions as 11Streat-
lam," and John would only recognise him officially as
" Queen Mab" Frank was always full of his husky chaff,
confiding to Isaac what Mr. Scott had said about him,
and vice versa ; and so those merry days passed on.
The splendid grunt of Frank when he Frank's First
first caught sight of The West delighted introduction to
John Scott and Isaac above all things. "TheWest-
Q
226 Scott and Sebright.
" What's that ?" he said. " That" quoth John Scott/
quite gravely, " oh ! that's only a rough thing by Free-
dom ; wed better pass him but " What a pretty pair
you are !" replied Frank, as he went up to introduce
himself to his love at first sight. The trial with this
colt and Longbow at 21 lbs. for the year was run
three-quarters of a mile in very deep ground, and the
young un won it, hands down. There were never any
proved attempts to get at him, although the betting
before Doncaster betokened that the " black cloud "
was going to descend, and the great difficulties in the
way of training him were his heavy flesh and his
tendency to a sort of off-and-on lameness, first in his
feet and then in his ankle.
The West's Frank and Isaac could never quite
Doncaster settle how far the Leger was to be won;
jubilee. an(j j-Qhn Scott delicately said, that as
Mr. Bowes would not be at Doncaster, of course
Isaac must give the orders. Frank would have it, that
it would do " if I win by the length of my arm but
Isaac didn't see it at all. " None of your dodging
said he; " I don't like these heads and half necks ; you
make me shake in my shoes; let him out at the Red
House, and see how far he can win!' Nothing seemed
so absurd to Frank as the popular idea of his horse
not staying. " Stay, indeed!" he was wont to say in
his fervour, " he'll stay a thundering deal too long for
any of them ; the faster they'll go, the sooner it will be
over ; they'll wonder what's coming when I lay hold of
them at' White Willie! " It was of course gratifying
to him to hear from Isaac that he had ridden the
horse to his mind ; but he rejoined, " I was thinking
of you all the way from the distance ; the beggars stood
stock still, or I'd have put you in a nice szveat." Isaac
accompanied the horse home to the Salutation, and
when John Scott and Hayhoe got there, they both
saw that something was up. One might well say of
the horse that " he looks welland the other that he
Turf Cracks. 227
was "as bold as a hero for Isaac, in the exuberance
of his enthusiasm at having at last reared a winner of
the double event, had poured a bottle of Champagne
into the pail.
Catherine Hayes, who shares with Catherine
Ellerdale the honour of being the best Hayes,
daughter of Lanercost, has always been a great fa-
vourite with Mat Dawson. She required drawing
light, and was a particularly sweet-tempered and wide-
hipped mare, with her hocks close together. No
action could be more easy and sweeping, and we
have always maintained that to our eye nothing ever
crept so beautifully up the Epsom hill. Her Nursery
Stakes win at Goodwood, when looked at by the sub-
sequent performances of the horses behind her, was a
remarkable performance, as she won easily under the
top weight, 8st. 7lbs., and gave Rataplan I4lbs.,
Ethelbert and Pantomime I3lbs., and Dagobert 2lbs.
Mat Dawson never tried a two-year-old so highly,
and as he knew her to be just as good at even
weights as the four-year-old Kilmeny, who had won
The Steward's Cup that week at 6st. I3lbs., he had
no GoodWood fears. After the Oaks she caught cold
across the loins, and had a heavy fringe of leeches
applied on each side of her spine. Her action went
sadly; but still she made a game wind-up of it, by
giving Mayfair half a stone and " a long head " beat-
ing for the Coronation Stakes.
Goorkah claims a mention, but more Goorkah's
for the peculiar manner of his dam's History,
subsequent purchase. She belonged, with a mare
called Fairy Queen by Brutandorf, to a farmer and
bone-setter in Lanarkshire. Once on a time he
dreamt that he sold these two mares, and that Mr.
Sharpe, of Hoddom Castle, purchased them, and he
wrote off forthwith to apprize that gentleman of his
dream, and beg him to hasten its fulfilment. Mr.
Sharpe did not exactly see it in that enthusiastic
Q 2
228 Scott and Sebright.
light, and as Fairy Queen was blind, he declined her
at once. With regard to Fair Jane, he said that he
liked her blood ; but that, as she had been drawing
coals from the station, and had been barren, he was
only open to a swap for her with his filly Seclusion by
St. Martin, a greyhound puppy (afterwards Cora
Lynn), a couple of Dorkings, and a piece of plaid for
trowsers. And so this novel bargain was arranged.
She was in foal to Turnus, and as Goorkah showed
some form, she was sent to Annandale again. At
Kelso, Mr. Barber proposed to purchase her, and
offered three hundred, but Mr. Sharpe would hear of
nothing under five; and when another application
came, he declared his ultimatum, by letter to each,
and said that the first who gave that sum should
have her. Both applications, as it turned out, were
from the same quarter, and by the time the letter
arrived, enclosing the five IOO/. notes, Hamlet was
dropped.
Butterfly ^r- Sharpe sold Butterfly and her dam
for 70/. to the Brothers Oates, and the late
Mr. Eastwood took such a fancy to the former, when he
first saw her as a yearling, that he purchased her at
once, and sold half to Culshaw, who stipulated most
rigidly that she should be called after his "herd
matron"—that rare prize mould in which both Master
and Royal Butterfly were cast and quickened. The
luck he predicted from this process followed in due
course. In her first trial with Buttercup she was
beaten, and although she won five times, she had
some mischances as a two-year-old, getting knocked
about at Beverley, and very badly off with Thor-
manby at York. Before she ran for her engagements
at three years old, she had a rough gallop with
Sparrow Hawk and Dilkoosh, and an Oaks win and
rare seconds both for the Ascot Cup and Northum-
berland Plate confirmed the promise which she then
showed.
Turf Cracks.
229
John Scott firmly believes that, accord- Boiardo
ing to his trial, Boiardo would have won
the St. Leger in a canter. He was a rank roarer, and
not a very taking horse in any way ; but he subse-
quently ranked high in Australia. Holmes, on Dervish,
made all the running in the trial, and Sim lay last
with Boiardo, who lost a shoe, and beat Acrobat very
cleverly at the finish. Still Sim did not trust his leg,
but chose Acrobat on the Leger day ; and the severe
pace which Dervish made from the start found out
the crack's weak point.
Their victor, Knight of St. George, grew Knight of St.
into more after, and left a most beautiful, George,
enlarged likeness of himself in Knight of St. Patrick ;
but when he won the St. Leger he was only just
fifteen hands. There never was a more difficult horse
to ride. He took a long time to make up his mind
whether he would try or not, and then nothing but
easing and coaxing, which Basham did to perfection,
would make him put his good resolutions in force.
Spurs and whip were quite out of the question. He
always hung to the left, and nothing but a very severe
pricker and long cheek to the left side oLthe bit, could
keep him straight at all. As an Irish two-year-old he
bolted once, lost twice, and won once, and his edu-
cation was still in a sad state when he came to Ham-
bleton with Gamekeeper. He was ridden all the
winter by Basham in a yearling's breaking tackle, and
when he found that he couldn't bolt, going up the gallop,
he went open-mouthed among the yearlings. His
Derby trial was at iolbs. with the five-year-old King-
ston, and at evens with Eulogist, on the Saturday
before Chester, and he won it cleverly. Kingston was,
perhaps, not what he had been, although he fought
out the Ascot Cup so well with " The West" that
summer ; but still the trial looked uncommonly hope-
ful. " The Knight," however, contracted a " gouty
leg" before Epsom ; his fore and hind feet caught,
230
Scott and Sebright.
following Kingston up the gallop, and he cut his boot
clean off, and into the flesh as well. Kingston was away
on Her Majesty's service, the week of his Doncaster
trial, and not liking to try " The Knight" farther, they
made him give the speedy Corin an enormous amount
of weight over a mile, and brought it off.
Virao-Q There were more nuggets than Volti-
geur at the Hart diggings, as Virago was
foaled there the year after his double event. She was
advertised for sale as a yearling, at Doncaster, when
old John Day slipped down and tried to buy her
privately, but Mr. Stephenson insisted on her going to
the hammer along with Epinician. John Scott liked
her, but left off at 340, and the next ten settled the
job for Mr. Padwick. She was tried as a two-year-old
in October, at 7lbs., with Little Harry, and William
Day, who rode in the trial, was so pleased with
her, that he increased the two thousand offer, which
he made on the ground, to three when they got into
the house ; but Mr. Padwick was as firm as Gibraltar.
After the Doncaster meeting of '54 she turned roarer;
still old John could not bring himself to believe that
she was so changed, and when the little, jumped-up
St. Hubert beat her at something under weight for
age, he thought him a wonder, and never blanched
when " my boy William " assured him that at i81bs.
Lord of the Isles could quit Nabob when he liked in
a mile.
Lord of the This combination of Pantaloon and
Isies. Touchstone, which had nicked so well
reverse ways in the Phryne stock, was a thin,, deep,
flat-sided horse, who did not require very much work.
His winding up for the Two Thousand, for which no
horse ever came to the post more thoroughly fit, must
have told on him, although he repeated his perform-
ance with Nabob on 4lbs. worse terms over the Derby
distance afterwards. This was a great year for the
threes, with Wild Dayrell, Rifleman, and Fandango
Turf Cracks. 2 31
also in it, and if the big and short De Clare's trial—
to give Paletot 27lbs.*bver Leatherhead Downs, and
manage Old Bracken at evens—was correct, he would
have been very busy at the finish. However, his
ankle went in the effort, and he was seen in public no
more till the Middlesboro' Show.
With the exception of Lady Flora, wild Dayreil's
Mr. Popham had never had a thorough- History,
bred mare, until he bought Ellen Middleton. Rickaby,
his stud-groom, saw her advertised in The Life, and
thought her Bay Middleton and Myrrha blood so
good, that he was authorized to write to Bobby Hill
for the price, and bought her unseen for fifty pounds,
in the June of '51. As there was no very suitable
horse near Littlecote, he was despatched the next
spring on a little voyage of discovery among the stud
farms. Harkaway, Ratcatcher, and The Libel were
not to his fancy ; Enfield could only offer Red Deer
and the Earl of Richmond; and at last he came upon
quite a seam of wealth at Barrow's of Newmarket, in
Birdcatcher, Don John, John o' Gaunt, and Ion, and
clenched matters with the latter, which was the last
one brought out. Both the mares were sent to him,
and after a month they were ordered home. Ellen
Middleton had not been at Littlecote two hours before
she turned to him, and was sent back that night.
The arrival of the first blood colt produced the sen-
sation which those little matters will produce in quiet
country homes, and they sat up with Ellen for at least
a fortnight before the event.
When a colt appeared between 12 and Birth of Wild
1 A.M., the butler was rung up and rushed Dayreii.
on to the scene with his nightcap on his head, and a
bottle of wine in his hand ; and as it was necessary to
remove the little stranger into a warmer box, he got a
wheelbarrow, and insisted upon " wheeling the ivinuer
of the Derby once in my life" There was nothing in
that speech ; but when Rickaby got home to his cot-
232 Scott and Sebright.
tage about five on that April morning, he assured his
wife there must be something remarkable for good or
for evil about the colt, as he had just seen the strange
sight of a wild duck and a wild drake actually sitting
on a quickset hedge, close by the high road. That
morning was indeed a remarkable one in Littlecote
annals. It hailed the first blood colt Mr. Popham had
ever possessed, and the first that Rickaby ever trained,
and the latter never was at Epsom in his life till he
fulfilled his threat of " bringing the money away."
His Change of At this time, Mr. Popham had no idea
Hands. Gf training, and advertised both the colt
and his half-sister for sale next year. Sam Reeves
used never to tire of looking at him, as " the biggest
and the best, &c."; Jones, the Rockley trainer, bid
money for him ; and when Dagobert had put the
Goodwood stable in love with the Ion blood, by win-
ning the Chesterfield Stakes, Kent arrived and bid
500 gs. for the pair. As might have been expected
with so big a yearling, the filly beat him in his trial,
and Kent did not think that Lord Henry Lennox lost
much when he was sent with the rest of his stud up to
Tattersall's. Mr. Popham was in Scotland at the time,
but forwarded Rickaby a commission to buy both back
at 250 gs. and 50 gs., and he did so with, in both in-
stances, very little to spare. And thus, as Lord
George parted with a Surplice, General Peel with a
Kingston, Admiral Harcourt with a Summerside, and
Lord Exeter very nearly with a Stockwell, for lack of
waiting a little longer, " Mr. Gordon" got rid of Wild
Dayrell.
His Training His early training was done in the most
and Trial, rural style. Two miles, principally on
the banks of
" The Kennet swift for silver eels renowned,"
were marked out in Littlecote Park, as the winter
ground, and at it they went, Rickaby leading the
Turf Cracks. 233
gallops on the five-year-old Zegra, an old gelding
of Mr. Drinkald's, and his sons Tom and John on
Wild Dayrell and the filly Creusa. In May the three
adjourned to Lord Craven's, and had the use of his
lordship's Ashdown Park stabling; but still there
was not time to bring out the colt against Bonnie
Morn, at Stockbridge. They had no line except
through Zegra, who had been tried and beaten two
lengths by old Inder, and in the trial, an exceedingly
rough one in clothes, the colt gave him about a couple
of hundred yards over three-quarters of a mile, and
never quite reached his head. The Newmarket vie-
tory was a very easy one, and the horse was fully six-
teen one-and-a-half before they began with him for
the Derby. Lord Albemarle was bought to do fast
work for him ; but he and Zegra were incompetent,
as he used to run over them, kicking his heels, at
intervals, into the air, so high that it was as much as
Robert Sherwood or his lad could do to stick on.
He soon stumped up Lord Albemarle, and then six-
teen hundred was given at Lincoln for Jack Shep-
pard; and early in March they adjourned to Ash-
down once more, with a whole regiment of touts in
their train.
The stable of the two was like a fortress, and two
dogs below, and Rickaby, who did the dragon, above,
guarded the golden apple of Berkshire. It was
thought advisable to keep Jack pretty fresh for the
trial,, and Gamelad was hired from John Osborne,
and came with Robert Osborne in charge. Lord
Craven and the house party used often to ride out at
six o'clock, to see the gallops ; but on the trial morn-
ing, ten days before the Derby, Mr. Etwall, Mr. F.
Craven, and Mr. Popham were also on the Weather-
cock Hill. Wild Dayrell was asked to carry 8st.
iolbs. and give Jack, whom they knew to be in form
after beating Orinoco at Chester, iolbs., and Game-
lad, for whose sake Osborne had faithfully subsisted
234
Scott and Sebright.
on salts and animalculae for some twenty-four h$uj£,
about 2st. and a year. Zegra was nobody on $hat
occasion, and like Gamelad was soon cut down ; ^but
Jack Sheppard and the crack went a splitting pace
for a mile, where Jack fairly stood still. Mr. Etwall
rode down to Charlton, to ask what had happened.
Charlton, however, assured him that his colt was well
enough, and added, "/ thought King Toms trial a
good one last year, but I never rode against such a
horse as this before." And so every one there thought,
when they saw him come in alone, with Gamelad toil-
ing a full distance behind him.
The orders at the Derby were simply to "get quietly
up the hill, and then stride along," and Sherwood
did not make the pace so strong afterwards as they
wished. Perhaps in the hard state of the ground it
was as well, and either from that cause, or the horse
hitting it when he ran into the quickset hedge in the
paddock, before he could be pulled up, there was mis-
chief in the near foreleg, halfway between the knee
and the fetlock ; by the end of that week, and for the
first time in his life, he was put into bandages. They
went on with him for the Goodwood Cup, but the
other leg began to fill, and it was all that Rickaby
could do to prepare him for York. After his Don-
caster break down, they tried to patch him up no more,
and he began the Buccaneer, Horror, and Avalanche
business. His mate, Jack Sheppard, passed even-
tually into Mr. Saxon's hands, Mr. McGeorge got
Lord Albemarle, and Zegra became Lord Craven's
hack for a season or two. His foals were principally
mouse-browns ; but unfortunately Alice Hawthorne's
colt died quite early, and The Rake, who would pro-
bably have credited him with a Derby, broke a blood-
vessel when taking one of his final gallops.
Ellington Ellington, his successor in the Derby
honours, was ridden about at Admiral
Harcourt's after his two-year-old season, by the
Tttrf Cracks.
235
coachman, and made as handy at gate-opening as a
hack,—the first time, perhaps, that a future " blue
ribbon" has so passed the winter. One of those who
won upon him got his hint in a curious way. His
book was beating him, and in a half-desperate mood
he sauntered down Piccadilly. Looking up at the
clock above the Wellington Club, he saw that the
hands stood at twenty-two minutes to eight, and just
obscured the W. ; and in an instant he had his cue,
and felt so convinced he was right that he took the
odds about the colt, to win 500/.
Warlock was the most unlucky of Warlock
horses the next year. He had sore shins
at Epsom, he fell twice at Newcastle, a-nd he was
pulled up by mistake, after going once round, at
Carlisle, where Caller Ou also distinguished herself
subsequently by running against a post. The roan
was game and slow, and wanted a wonderful amount
of nice management, but still John Scott felt as-
sured that if anything happened to Ellington at
Doncaster he had everything else safe enough,
and so it proved. His finest race was when he
beat Fisherman by a neck for the Queen's Plate at
York.
Imperieuse was not regularly tried before the St.
Leger, but had merely a rough gallop with Warlock
and Forbidden Fruit, ridden by their boys, who were
not weighed beforehand. The stable saved stakes
with Blink Bonny ; but though John Peart, who was
at Newmarket, had orders to lay the odds to a hun-
dred, he did not, and the telegram announcing the
One Thousand success, bore the welcome postcript,
" None of the money hedged
The eccentricities of horses are endless. Horse Eccen-
It was necessary to tie up Lucetta by a tricities.
piece of twine, or she would have turned nervous and
broken everything. Pickpocket would never let his
jockey mount, except he had a coat over his white
236
Scott and Sebright.
satin jacket, simply because he had once picked his
owner's pocket of a white handkerchief, and turned so
frightened at the flapping, that he clenched his teeth
and would not drop it. Bellona blemished her hip in
a horse-box, and would only consent to stand loose in
one after; and Lightning would never go into a stable
unless he was bluffed, and then he would enter by
himself. The love of company is also a great trait in
horses. It was said of the Godolphin Arabian, that
when he had flattened out his own cat by mistake, he
missed it so much that he pined from remorse, and
savaged every other cat that was put in to him. If
little One Act had to make her own running, she
would be staring about on both sides for her com-
panions ; and Gemma di Vergy was so exacting that
no cat would satisfy him for company, but Joe Daw-
son was absolutely obliged to have a lad there with a
book or newspaper all day, and another sleeping close
by him at night in a stall. The habit began when he
was a yearling. He climbed over a partition, no man
can tell how to this day, so as to get at the window,
and was espied with his feet on the window-sill, gravely
looking out into the yard.
St Giles Giles was the first colt that made
people remember that there was such a
horse as Womersley, and the ten of them which
started that season were all winners. He was skin
and bone when he came to Sledmere, and Sir Tatton
did not consider him ill sold at 300/., when he and
Lanercost were exiled together. His stock were the
first that ever went up from Sledmere to meet Mr.
Tattersall at York August; and St. Giles, Greyling,
Companion, and another, all came back unsold. For
St. Giles, there was not a solitary bid, and William
Day thought he was giving quite enough, when he
drew a 240-guinea cheque for the four. When St.
Giles had satisfied him, he came direct from Chester
to Sledmere, and not only bought his dam in foal with
Turf Cracks. 237
the 500 guinea St. James, and-a filly foal at her foot,
but hired four Womersley fillies at 100 guineas
apiece. The mare paid well, but the quartett were
duly returned as incapables in the Woodyeates sense
of the term. St. Giles was a big sixteen-hand horse,
who " Sid not come to hand easily," with no great
pace, but a glutton at a distance. Lord Ribblesdale
took him at the Sledmere price, and his yearling trial
was remarkably good. His race with Skirmisher at
Northampton was a very great one, but the party
were never more confident, and the commissioner
began his operations a fortnight before.
Many of the modern cracks have been Queen Mary's
drawn out of the Doncaster lucky-bag, Blood,
and Mr. Ramsay found himself wavering between
Mendicant and Queen Mary on the morning of Foig-
a-Ballagh's St. Leger. Something put him against
the brown, for whom Mr. Gully gave 400 guineas, and
he got the bay for a hundred less. Strange, indeed,
that one of the pair should be destined to win the
Oaks and throw a Derby winner, and that the other
should be the dam of Blink Bonny and Broomielaw,
and grandam of Caller Ou, Blair Athol, and Bread-
albane as well. Mr. Ramsay died five years after, and
there was so little promise about the puny Haricot,
that I'Anson heard a remark in the crowd to the
effect that " some madman has given twenty pound
for her and the foal (Braxey)" (which was afterwards
in the Hampton Court stud), and smiled to think that
he had given the commission. Balrownie (a very
good-looking horse), Blooming Heather, and Bonnie
Scotland made about 6000 guineas, in stakes and
sales, and then TAnson was compensated for Queen
Mary missing to Touchstone by the suspicions which
ripened into certainty, when he had sent her Mel-
bourne filly along for a few weeks.
She was the first of the family he ever Blink Bonny
trained as a two-year-old, and he never
238
Scott and Sebright.
gave one more work, but a short T.Y.C. was not her
line of business, and she was always a most moderate
beginner. William Scott, Sir Lydston Newman's
stud-groom, took a great fancy to her, both for
her own^and his old Melbourne's sake, and fidvised
Lord Londesboro' to give the three thousand which
I'Anson offered to take for her after the Beverley
meeting. This price was contingent on his being
allowed to train her, and when he found that such was
not his lordship's intention, he raised it a thousand,
and the bargain went off; and at the Northallerton
meeting he refused 5000/. from Mr. Jackson. She
throve pretty well till late in the autumn, but then
the dentition fever, which was always peculiarly severe
with the Melbournes, came on, and she sank, as
Blooming Heather had done before her, to a complete
skeleton. She was always leaning to the off-side as if
flying from some unseen fury on the near, and they
only dare tie her up with a string to snap if she ran
back in one of the paroxysms. Newminster's teeth
had punished him a good deal before the Derby, but
his state must have been bliss in comparison. After
the One Thousand, where her looks fairly shocked
the public, I'Anson told his family that he wouldn't
take 1000/. to a penny about her Epsom chance. Still
on his return from Chester she seemed to have got
some relief, and although she would seize her corn
and then drop it as if it was red-hot shot, she ate grass
greedily, started her work once more, and crept on
very fast.
Her Race for She seemed to improve on the journey
the Derby. Up^ ancj when she galloped with Strath-
naver at Epsom, she drew away from him with her
head down in her rare, old fashion. Charlton's orders
were never to try and win till close on the post, and
he did it without asking her a question. I'Anson
hardly knew what to think before they started, or
when the race was running. He twice thought she
Turf Cracks.
239
looked like her old self at the whins, as she was setting
her ears back and flinging up her tail, as she always
did when she meant vengeance. Then although he
swept the thirty backwards and forwards with his
glasses, he could never find her yellow cap again, and
when he did, he mistook it for something else, til]
they were close at home. On the Oaks day, her form
was fully half a stone better, but Charlton as nearly
as possible broke his Stirrup iron, coming round Tat-
tenham Corner.
Balrownie was troubled with sand- „ ,
, , i-i.... Balrownie,
cracks, and was bad to train in conse- Blooming Hea-
quence. I'Anson thought he had tried ther, and Bonnie
him high enough to win the St. Leger, cot an '
but he injured his hock in his trial, and had to be
stopped in his work; and with a view to the Doncas-
ter Stakes, he was not ridden out when winning was
hopeless. Mr. Padwick gave 2000/. for him ; and old
John Day was delighted with his trial, and so was
Wells, who rode him. He was a very unfortunate
horse. When he ran with Virago, at York, he was so
severely kicked at the post, that the starter felt bound
to give him a little time to recover from it; and he
got pricked in his shoeing before he met Rataplan, at
Manchester. Blooming Heather shyed at a butcher's
cart coming through London, and was still quite stifl
from slipping upon the stones, when she went for the
Oaks. Bonnie Scotland nearly broke his leg at twc
years old, and never could be got thoroughly fit. He
had the greatest constitution of the family, and was
the most indolent at exercise that I'Anson ever hac
to do with ; and the last heard of him was, that he hac
won the Great Prize for sires at Cincinnati, Ohio
against Lexington and all comers.
Beadsman, the son of Mendicant, had R ,
all the fine action of his dam, and if ea sman*
people did pronounce him " a rum 'un to look at,'
they were more confirmed in their opinion when hi;
240
Scott and Sebright.
photograph appeared. There was not much promise
about him at two years old, and if he had not won a
trial with a light weight on him at Danebury, he
would have been probably put out of training. After
the Two Thousand, he was tried to give Fitzroland
61bs., and won so far that Wells hallooed to his lad to
stop, as the touts were about.
Antonio, Anton, Of the three A's, Antonio, Anton, and
and Actseon. Actaeon, which John Day had in hand at
one time, Anton was the smallest, and very neat, but
sadly touched in the temper; and if Vaultress and
Maid of Orleans divide the honours of the speediest
Danebury mare, Actaeon could probably have beaten
everything of both sexes for half a mile. Anton's
luck was beyond the average in his great three hun-
dred-guinea match with Kent. His near hind leg had
gone months before, and was kept in perpetual cold
bandages, but it just stood out with the most careful
nursing over the mile and a quarter, and he won by a
neck. Antonio's A.F. match with Luff was also a
most brilliantly ridden finish. Wells on Luff held the
lead down the hill from the Bushes, and Alfred Day,
who could not take any liberties on his roarer, got to
him in the Bottom. Neither of them dared to do
more than touch his horse's mouth, and when Wells
stopped Luff half-way up, in order to " reach home,"
Alfred drew up to his knee, and holding his bay there
till the last few strides, just got up and won by a short
head. The old school, with all their Robinsonian and
Chifney memories, are bad to beat, but the patience
and tenderness of this finish stamped it as a master-
piece on both sides, and none spoke of it more highly
than General Peel.
Trumpeter Marionette and Trumpeter were never
put together at two years old, but tried
collaterally with Pinsticker, who made out Trumpeter
to be iolbs. the better of the two. On the Monday
before the Derby, they were measured, and John Day
Turf Cracks. 241
again considered that Marionette had iolbs. the worst
of it. Trumpeter's leg which had been hit at Bath
went very badly in the Derby, and the other followed
suit the moment they tried to put him into slow work
again. Mr. Harry Hill bought him for 220 guineas
at the last "Corner" sale of the Royal Yearlings,
and it would be strange indeed if one of the
Hampton anniversaries came off without some little
jocula*r passage of arms between Mr. Hill and Mr.
Tattersall on the subject of that memorable purchase.
Musjid was one of the Tickhill ticklers, M ...
and Ariadne, the Moulvie, and Cast-off USJ1
were the other winners out of the lot which went with
him to Doncaster that Autumn. Their sire Newminster
had two seasons there, and Langar, Tramp, Catton,
Barefoot, Interpreter, Juggler, Cardinal Puff, Hetman
Platoff, and Rataplan have also flourished in turn under
those ivied battlements girdled with a moat, and above
whose tangled mass of elm and sycamore, the gilt
Tarrare stands out, to tell of the " blue stripe" days
when poor George Nelson seldom missed a morning
stroll to the Castle.
Elis was foaled in the elder-tree box beneath it, and
" a great, strong foal he was," according to his accou-
cheur, John Hornshaw ; and Slane saw the light in
these paddocks, when his Orville dam came to the
handsome Langar. The saddle-room box was Musjid's
birthplace, and he only contrived to save his year by
six days. He was the finest galloper among them in
the paddocks, but went so wide and awkwardly behind,
that the buyers at Doncaster all thought that he was
lame. Mr. Gerard Sturt first told Sir Joseph Hawley
of him, and advised him very strongly to go and have
a look.
No one would give the 300 which Lord Scarbo-
rough set upon him, and the colt went home to Tick-
hill. Still Sir Joseph did not forget him, and on second
thoughts, about the middle of October the bargain was
R
2 42 Scott and Sebright.
His Derby struck. In his Derby trial he was made
Trial |-0 gj:ve 2ilbs. to Gallus, and Wells on
Beacon, and something loose to make a pace, took
what part they could. For a mile it was a tremendous
splitter between Musjid and Gallus, but the latter was
told out in the next quarter, and Sir Joseph felt sure
that he had the Derby again in his grasp. Wells
vowed forthwith that he had never ridden anything
so good, and never expected to do again. The match
with The Blacksmith the next year seemed a wonder-
fully good thing, but the Derby winner went dead
amiss before the day.
Underhand and Underhand's finest two-year-old per-
the Greyhounds, formance was at Ripon, where he stum-
bled and ran Saunterer, who only gave him 2lbs., to
a head ; while Skirmisher, who received 61bs., was
just beaten as far. He was a very small colt, and
was foaled at the Consett Ironworks, from one of
whose functionaries he derived his name. Mr. Forster
consigned him to Spigot Lodge, as a yearling ; and
one of his admirers from the Works, who wanted a
little outing, came shortly afterwards to see him. It
was to him that Fobert and the world are indebted for
a new wrinkle in the preparation of yearlings. " This
and another colt," he said, " have run together from
foals ; but there never was such a promising galloper
as this one; we know it, Mr. Fobert, for we've set
the greyhounds on them regular." On cross-examina-
tion by Arthur Briggs, it was further elicited that
Underhand had not altogether approved of being made
a hare, and had once jumped a wall with the long-tails
after him, and dropped without injury, on to the
thatched roof of a pigsty.
His Newcastle His style of carrying his head very high
Triumphs, impressed many with an idea that he was
not a stayer. This was a mistake, but still about a
mile and a half was his best distance, and his
great speed enabled him to get up through his
Turf Cracks. 243
horses from the half - distance under very high
weights. He always ran best in Aldcroft's hands, as
his .tender, patient way of nursing him pulled him
through if it was at all on the cards. Dr. Syntax at
Preston, and Beeswing at Newcastle, might be said to
" farm the Cups," and Vampyrenearly had a monopoly
of the Ascot Stakes for three successive years, yet no
horse save Underhand ever ran in the same handicap
for five out of his six seasons, and not only win it
three times but finish by being second. Well might
the " Black Diamonds" be found clustering round him
like bees, year after year, waving their hats, and sing-
ing out excitedly from their platform stands, for
minutes before the race began, " Unneyhand wins;
Unneyhand wins /" We never saw his muscle so
splendidly up, as when he won the Great Ebor Handi-
cap at gst. lib. He never had a day's illness in his
life, and his legs were as sound to the last as when he
fled from the greyhounds.
St. Albans came to Fyfield about Oc- gt Albans
tober, and pleased his lordship and Taylor
in a trial by giving Plumper iolbs. He was amiss all
_his two-year-old season, and so unwell after running
third for The Ham, that Taylor assured his lordship
it, would be death to him to start again that week. In
fact, he put him into the van in Cantine's place at
Salisbury, as he was far too weak to walk across the
country. At Newmarket that autumn he made out very
badly, but he began to come rather later on, and in a
two-mile trial with Compromise, who gave him 25lbs.
for the two years, the six-year-old Clarissa gelding
6st, and the two-year-olds Conscript and Gwellyan,
he won just as he liked. He was tried at Stevens' of
Ilsley in the spring, and was in Godding's hands for
the Metropolitan and Chester Cup. This severe pre-
paration knocked his legs about so much, that it was
some weeks before Taylor could go on with him for
the St. Leger; but he couldn't have made weather to
R 2
244
Scott and Sebright.
suit the immense work his colt had to do, more exactly;
and a rough gallop in clothes for the St. Leger distance
with Plumper showed him to be more than 2st. the
best of the pair. Luke Snowdon had never been on
him till the day before the race, and his orders to come
at the distance resulted in the most decisive victory,
since The Dutchman's day. The outside of the fet-
lock joint ot the oft fore-foot had always been his weak
spot, and he was so lame on the Friday, that he had
to be blistered and thrown up as soon as he got home.
The Ascot Cup was fatal, and the weak foot went
hopelessly on that hard course as he came round the
bottom turn. Although he seemed more, he was only
fifteen-two when in training, of a remarkable rich
dark chestnut, with a peculiarly proud way of carrying
his tail, and always ramping and neighing about. His
length and hind-quarters, and great thighs and hocks
were all fine points with him, and his staying qualities
most undeniable.
Ashdown Park. , Ashdown is rich in something more
than mere historic fancies. It was here
that Miss Ann Richards, the strong-minded virgin of
Wiltshire, used to leave her coach and six on the hills
and do beater's duty close by her dogs all day, with her
pole in her hand, and her kirtle up to her knee till:—
" Poor Ann, at last, was view'd by death,
Who coursed and ran her out of breath."
Here, too, met the renowned club who made such
glorious matches, sang such merry songs, invented
such luscious puddings, and found such a worthy
chronicler in old Mr. Goodlake.
We first saw it on a peculiarly lovely morning, in
fact, the one which, after a dreary winter, seemed to
herald in earnest the welcome springtide of '60. The
South Berkshire hounds, passing under the railway-
bridge at Reading, on their way to a distant meet,
gave us a passing peep at country recreations as we
Turf Cracks. 245
swept along to the Shrivenham station ; and there,
too, the very pointer, emblazoned as a trade mark on
a whole heap of returned corn-sacks, bore its silent
witness to those sporting tastes which fairly permeate
an Englishman's being.
A friend's horse was duly in waiting Ride to the
for us, and we were soon cantering along Coursing Ground,
towards the hills, beyond which lay our coursing land
of promise. An occupation road to the left led us past
a farm, half hid in ivy, with rent-paying Herefords
and juicy Devons lazily chewing the cud in its straw-
yard, while the thrashing-machine kept relentlessly
" crushing the air," not with its " sweetness," but its
beetling hum, in the snug stack-garth behind. The
farmer was as mellow and pleasant as his holding, and
with a " Good morning!" and a few cheery words
about Ashdown, we ride briskly on across the old
pasture, and along the brook studded with willow-
stumps, where the pike-fishers linger in the long
summer days. A labourer with a waistcoat still
deeper in its yellow than the straw-laden wain which
rumbles along the ruts, recalls us from the delights to
the stern realities of nature, as his wife addresses him
behind the fence, in anything but the tones of the
turtle ; and anon we are climbing the hill to the
downs in the wake of a little slipper, who is recount-
ing his triumphs of " four years ago."
Once at the summit, and the downs seem to
stretch away for miles in one vast, brown, rippling
surface, with no sound to break their stillness, except
the bleatings of the Hampshires, as they answer their
newly born lambs; and the bullock language of the
white-smocked ploughmen. The Vale of White
Horse, so dear to Tom Brown's heart, furnishes a
delightful sunny panorama, rich with trees and water,
behind us. In front is a strip of tableland flanked
on one side by a woodland dell, where the fox lies
curled at- the mouth of his earth, careless of V. W. H.
246
Scott and Sebright.
horn and hound ; while on the other is Compton
Bottom, with its patches of stunted bushes and under-
growth, and peopled with countless generations of
" merry brown" and straight-backed hares. The
plough, that gentle innovator, has stolen a march on
those ancient solitudes at last. Teams of oxen toil
along the furrows and scare the partridges in their
track, while a group of farm-sheds and straw ricks
remind us of a storehouse in a desert, and that civili-
zation and rats will gain a settlement everywhere.
Notabilities of Now, a dark mass of carriages, carts,
the Field. ancj horsemen seems to be forming ahead
round the " Rubbing House," and we press on for a
true and correct card. The word of command is given
when the Earl and his party arrive, and the tryer and
slipper, both in scarlet, move down into the Bottom
to begin, while the foot people and the commissariat
carts linger on the hill. The Ashdown Cavalry are
there, at least four hundred strong ; and when a hare
does take the hill, and they all sit down in their
saddles and catch fast hold of their horses' heads, the
very ground seems to start and tremble under them.
Three or four daughters of a noble house are in the
throng, and one of them especially, with a simple
white feather in her hat, steers her beautiful grey to
the front, each time, with a grace and dash that makes
many a rugged courtier exclaim, that " It's worth
coming to Ashdown to see those ladies ride." A
rigid costumier would have been puzzled among that
motley throng. Even the two field stewards have no
unity on the point. The one is still faithful to the
trim velveteen which was in such vogue years ago,
while the other communicates lustre to a spruce over-
coat of faultless whiteness, with cords and tops to
match ; and knickerbockers are all the fashion among
the younger men, with, as lawyers were wont to say in
the good old days of special demurrers, a little scarlet
at the knee and wrist, to "give colour."
Turf Cracks. 247
Grave Scotchmen are there in plaid, from head to
foot; while the rough shooting-coat and unshackled
Doric of the East Riding mark the Yorkshiremen,
who have come many a mile to back Glengarry in
vain. Smart young jockeys leave Lambourne for the
day, and are easy to pick out from their clever hand
and seat; some of them on two-year-olds, to teach
them to face a crowd and harden their confidence for
future contests. There, too, conspicuous from his tall,
active figure, is Grantley Berkeley, the mighty hunter
and rifle-shot of The Field, fresh from the buffaloes
and the other spolia opima of the Prairies. " Stone-
henge," too, looks on, and gathers material for new
chapters in his mind's eye on the sport which he has
made his own ; while the editor of The Life, scorning
to call horse or pony to his aid, be it hill or be it
plough, is always in his place, near the judge, and
scanning every turn with an ardour worthy of " The
Sleepless Eye."
Their talk is all of dogs, distemper, Courserg. Talk
and fine young puppies coming forward a
or lost for ever to the slips; and a joke about a
Macclesfield man, who advertised "a low-bred grey-
hound," seems to be keenly enjoyed. One takes up
more general ground, and details plaintively that there
were only three waiters to forty-five diners at Lam-
bourne over night, and that fears of coming frost had
deterred the cautious landlord from speculating more
extensively in his brother man. Then there is a
slight dispute between a little ancient courser on a
pony and a young farmer, as to the whereabouts of the
White Horse Hill. Neither of them will bate one jot
of his opinion. One says that he has coursed up to it
for thirty years, yea, even before the other was born ;
and the elderly infant doesn't at all see the overwhelm-
ing force of that argument, as he " came from the hill
this morning."
And now the great match of sixteen dogs of " The
248
Scott and Sebright.
The Two Blacks World" against sixteen of Altcar Club,
at Work. js renewed. Sixteen courses have been
run off the day before, and the former has ten
standing to the latter's six ; but still Altcar does not
despair, and the crowd predict that Rosy Morn,
thanks to the Chadbury training, will come out as
fresh as ever to-day. " There she goes" soon passes
from lip to lip, as the first hare gets up in the Bottom,
but it is not much of a course. The judge takes off
his hunting cap and waves it to indicate that he will
give no decision as to merits, and the flag steward
waves both red and white flags accordingly. Some-
how or other the white flag seems to win every
course in the early part of the day, and people
begin to follow luck instead of judgment, and to try
and back every dog on the "white" side of the
card. Rosy Morn, however, does all that is expected
of her ; the brown and white crack from Yorkshire
toils after her in vain, and there is no hat off that
time.
But the course of courses is to come, " one of the
old sort," as the white-haired Nestors affectionately
say. In vain the hare makes for the hill, and the
cover on the other side, which she has known of old.
The two blacks wont be denied, but they have the
problem of perpetual motion to solve this time.
" There's a picture of Ashdown !" says Mr. McGeorge,
as at last, after watching them work her for nearly
three miles on the hill-side, he sees them both lying
down on the brow, near the Rubbing House, and the
hare scampering away towards her old form in the
Bottom. A painter might have followed the slips
for inspiration all his life, and never lighted on such a
beautiful " bit." Alas ! poetry soon fades into a hard
reality when the trainers "take up" their wearied
charges ; and then is heard the sad homily on the
cunning of Patience, that she'll " not get over such a
towelling this season."
Turf Cracks. 249
There is another pretty picture to Beating the
hand, as a small plantation is drawn. A Plantations,
few beaters go in, and the slipper crouches behind a
hedge with his dogs, while hare after hare scampers
towards him over the vacant space, with their heads
straight for the City of Refuge over the hill. In not
one instance is it reached, though the hares are
nothing loth to charge the foot people. One is picked
up in such dashing style that the crowd involuntarily
raise a cheer, and a winner bears another proudly
back in his mouth, as if yearning for his ovation as
well. From the style in which he grips it, it looks at
the distance like one of those troop of white mountain
hares which a bewildered Southron (better read in
the "Pilgrims of the Rhine" than "British Rural
Sports") mistook for an elfin crew, as the Highland
gillies drove them up to him, and, throwing down his
Manton, fled on his lordly legs. Another is so dis-
inclined to quit his hold, that it is only by the aid of
three men, one of whom pinches his ear, that his fangs
can be forced open at all. But the day wears on, and
the hares begin to wax troublesome, and get up by
threes and fours, three hundred yards ahead of the
beaters. Sometimes twenty or thirty are on foot
together, and they look nearly as big as foxes against
the horizon line, as they move restlessly about or
stand derisively on their hind legs to listen. But it is
not for us to—
44 Sing in venturous guise
Of ricks and turns, and falls and byes,
And all the courser's mysteries."
Suffice it to say, that when the ties of that day were
run off, the antagonists stood 4 to 4. The next
day's post told of evens for the last time ; and be-
fore Saturday's sun had set, Rosy Morn, daughter
of Black Cloud and Riot, had vanquished the game
Sweetbriar ; and thus Altcar gloried in a double
victory.
250
Scott and Sebright.
Over the Hill But Effort, Riot, Sackcloth, Mocking
to Russiey. Bird, and even our old Cumberland
neighbour Truth are out of mind, as we skirt the
Bishopstown field, on another winter day, and think,
as we are obliged, from stress of ruts and mire, to
put into the fallows, that such a name as Trip the
Daisy is only a delusion and a snare. Ashdown
Park and its ancestral avenue of limes lie away in
the homestead-dotted valley to the left, and just
above it is seen the quaint old Rubbing House upon
Weathercock Hill. St. Lawrence, the two "Blacks"
—Tommy and Doctor—and Pretty Boy knew it well,
and it was there poor Luke Snowden gave Brown
Duchess many a breather for the " Green and Gold,"
when Kettledrum cleared his pipes behind Dilkoosh
along the White Horse Ridge, and Dundee strode
his defiance on Bishopstown Hill. Never before did
three such flyers hold three neighbouring heights.
Their grave and potent senior Thormanby is on the
Bishopstown side, and there too Leamington, Satin-
terer, Sunbeam, Hungerford, and King Tom were
sent along in their day, over the one and a half miles
from the Craven Cricket Ground to the Two o'Clock
Bush.
a Peep at Once over that velvet turf, and Russ-
Russiey Park. \ey park is below us, with its mysterious
vista of beeches, which leads to nothing. A St.
Leger and an Oaks winner are roaming under them,
and the neat stable-yard on the left holds not only
a Derby winner, and the mightiest second that ever
made the Scots " cock their bonnets" so boldly, but
the first favourite for the next year as well. A white
reach and foot mark tell the tale of the massive
sixteen-one Sunbeam, as she grazes quietly in the
distance with the weight-carrying Miss Anne, both
of them due to Lord of the Isles. Little Lady
Lurewell carries her Wild Dayrell burden bravely,
and so does Russley's dam, and the whole-coloured
Turf Cracks. 2 51
Catherine Hayes, as she loiters affectionately round
the house away from them all, and raises her sweet,
mild head for her wonted pat as Mat Dawson comes
up. One of the very first Fisherman colts is in a
paddock beyond the yard, and, true to his Scottish
ownership, Newhaven is his name ; and we find a
memento indoors of his aunt Rambling Katie, in
the oxydized black duck inkstand, which tells its
own tale of York, and a kind-hearted owner dead and
gone.
Thormanby forms a pleasant link for Thomranby
Mat Dawson between his old service and
his new. He thought " Old Alice," as we did when
we saw her at Cawston, a very hopeless subject, but
the spring brought strength, and she did not turn
from Windhound as she had done at the end of three
weeks from Melbourne, who got no foal that season.
It was in Sunbeam's year that Mr. Plummer encoun-
tered Mat, and begged him to come and look at "one
of Alice's, which will suit Mr. Merry." Off they
went to the Turf ,Tavern, and Mr. Merry struck a
bargain at 350/. for him on the Friday, thus carrying
away as it were a Derby and St. Leger out of the
town at one stroke. Northern Light, Trovatore, Lady
Falconer, and Apollyon were in the yearling lot that
autumn, and he squandered them so decidedly when
they did have a brush that it was thought advisable
to hire the old mare. She foaled a filly to Wild Day-
rell, and it died, and then she was barren to him
again, and died herself, a mere steed of Old Mortality,
with an enormous gathering in her udder, at Saun-
terer's paddocks.
Never did a two-year-old work much Thormanby's
harder than the chestnut, as he was out Earh Labours,
no less than twelve times between Northampton and
The Criterion, in which his 3lbs. to Thunderbolt
stamped him. A severe course like Ascot and the
Newmarket finish always suited him best. When
252 Scott and Sebright.
Northern Light was beaten by Cape Flyaway (who
was a first-rate tryer) at Bath, John Scott thought he
had got the line, and sent Mat Dawson a friendly
warning that he had a tremendous horse in The
Wizard, and Mat sent back his compliments and his
" Who's afraid ?" The trial with Northern Light a
week before had been high enough to allow of a
margin, and as the chestnut had not a drawback, both
trainer and owner considered that the Derby cheque
only wanted Mr. Weatherby's signature. Twenty-
four hours after the race their champion had a bad
swollen gland, and as he required a great deal of pre-
paration, it was not all plain sailing up to the Leger,
where the infallible sign of turning a little awkward
on going down to canter, was as fatal to the favourite
as ever.
Dundee Dawson had never heard of
Dundee, till Thomas Winteringham
begged him at Doncaster to come to the ring-
side directly, as " They're just going to bring in Mr.
Cookson's, and there's one by our horse." Strange
as it may seem, Kettledrum was No. 1 on the list,
and Dundee No. 2, and as Mat Dawson thought the
latter a well-grown colt, and knew that Mr. Merry
wanted a bit of Lord of the Isles, he put him in
at 150.
Reeves of Epsom got one or two bids, and when
the colt was knocked down at 170, he repented his
lack of ardour too late, and begged Dawson to give
up his bargain. Mr. Parr had one bid, but he did
not go on, as his mind was rather set on taking
home a Rataplan. He quavered between Kettle-
drum and Parasite, and got the one he wanted
at 400 guineas, but found that he could only act
in dirt, and was infirm in his hocks, and a roarer as
well.
Dundee bullied Russley, Folkestone, Starlight, and
Sweet Hawthorn in his gallops in quite the Thor-
Turf Cracks. 253
manby style, and although very backward, he was
tried very highly before Liverpool. A finish with
Lady Clifden, Big Ben, Dundee, and Little Lady,
and not three-parts of a length between, is one
Liverpool may not see again, and Folkestone's defeat
of " The Lady" at Epsom Spring kept the stable
right. Once in form, and Dundee ruled for the sea-
son. Brown Duchess certainly extended him at
Liverpool, in a splendid finish, for which the mare
never got sufficient credit that year, as he walked
away from her and Nemesis so completely in the
Findon Stakes. On paper, the Stockbridge race was
a great one, but the dead heat with Maggiore at York
weighed more with the public than the stable. A
young one was not likely to improve with heats, but
Mr. Merry and Mat thought so little of Maggiore's
form, that they would have tried their colt higher at
home.
Dundee was rather a coltish, light- His Break-
fleshed horse, with a beautiful wind, a very down,
blood-like head, and fine thighs, but, like his sire, a
little upright on his fore joints. Custance always liked
to bring him eight or ten strides from home, and to
feel him " come like a steam-engine." Thormanby
left it to Sir William, Russley, and Folkestone to try
him among them, as he was almost too idle a horse
to do so" satisfactorily. Dundee did all that was de-
sired, but there were indications two or three days
before Epsom, which made them watch the pointer of
the weather-glass very jealously, and wish themselves
and the horse well out of it. Of his standing another
preparation they had not a hope, and the lower part
of the suspensory ligament in the near foreleg went
so badly that after the Derby the fetlock touched
the ground, and it was nearly forty minutes' labour
getting him back to Sherwood's. Then it was another
week before he could be got into the van; three
months of cold-water bandages hardly put him into
254
Scott and Sebright.
a walking gear, and Habena was his first consort at
Eltham.
a Peep at A few miles over the downs, and we
Benhams. are among Tom Parr and his lot, which
do their long summer work on the Seven Barrow
or Sparsholt Down, and in bad weather on the
Charlton range. " Puce and white wins," has now
been heard from Weymouth to Kelso, for ten long
years, and gradually the parchments of Letcombe
Regis and Bowers, Benhams and the Manors of East
and West Challow have given a solid significance to
the cry. The Goodlake crest lingers in almost unde-
cipherable characters above one of the gable ends in
the most venerable of yards, where the green moss
and the houseleek still cling to the thatch. The highly
conservative corn chamber in the centre, whose stores
have enabled so many thorough-breds to face the hill,
is still faithful to its wooden steps and rusty staddles,
and gallantly defies all change. The ancient kennel
of Glider and the other G.'s of the King of Wiltshire's
coursers is there, close by the box of Wyon and
Tolurno, but nothing but a fir cone arch, round which
the ivy is clinging, and an armless statue of Neptune
among the wild flowers on the edge of the swan lake,
tell of the old man's home. Kildonan was in Fisher-
man's barn, ripening (as it was then hoped) by a long
winter's rest for Marlow's hand, but the Heron brown
is not forgotten.
Fisherman Mr. Parr still loves to tell how he hu-
and Co. moured him with a long gallop or a short
one, but " never left him many days together," and
points to the 65lbs. and the head-beating which he
gave Misty Morn (the winner of thirteen races that
season) at Derby, as the greatest triumph among his
sixty-eight. The deceptive Lupellus had already died
out of Benhams memory; but, wonder as he might
seem in his day, he was never so fast as his little
Punch of a brother Lupus; and it was the style in
Turf Cracks. ■ 15 5
which Kildonan gave him 2st., and Avalanche 9lbs.
over the D.I. which made Mr. Parr feel sure that
Imaus would beat his half-brother no more.
Avalanche was one of the pots of Avalanche
treasure which Mr. Parr is ever turning vaanc e-
up.» Captain Oliver met him in the train, and begged
him to take her for her forfeits, which he did, but she
seemed so unpromising that at first he only rode her as
a hack. When the work on Sparsholt Down was
over one morning, he rode her to Bowers Farm, where
he intended to shoot, and her action in a brisk gallop
across the plough at once decided him to train her.
Her.turn soon came, and she had to take Rattlebone's
place in the Newmarket Biennial, when he fell amiss,
and the trial at a stone with the four-year-old Indiffer-
ence was so good, that her owner got on at 2000 to
200 about her. And well he might, as whatever beat
Indifference in a trial won its race. Still, even Ford-
ham, who can communicate his fine confidence to a
nervous horse beyond almost any jockey of the day,
could make but little of Indifference in public. In a
trial at home, he gave Gaspard a stone and a year
cleverly, and yet at Stamford he was himself beaten
by Wallace in a walk. According to this truest of
tryers, Avalanche took the horrors after Ascot, but
" the shooting pony" won between 4000/. and 5000/.
in bets and stakes, and went to Belgium for 800
guineas more.
I'Anson had almost made up his mind Caller Qu
to send Queen Mary to West Australian
in '57, but he changed his mind and chose Stockwell
for her. He gave effect to his first fancy the next
season, but she returned from Grimston with Caller
Ou at her foot and barren. Scott told him by way of
comfort that the little brown filly was a clipper, and
that no foal in the paddock could come near her,
when she galloped. She never lost a trial either at
two or three years old; and nothing in the stable
256 Scott and Sebright.
could take more work, provided she was allowed to do
it by herself.
Trials and In point of action it was Blink Bonny
Peculiarities. for choice, but their head notions were
totally different. If Blink's jockey pulled hers up,
she would have it down again, whereas if Caller Ou
got excited and pulled about, up it went, and she
would fight and wear herself out. Her first two-
year-old trial was half-mile at even weights with the
four-year-old Donati. Her victory was so hollow,
that I'Anson tried them over again, and found it to
be a true bill. Soon after that, a friend came through
the stable, and casually remarked as they passed, " If
she could knock over Donati at evens, Fd give a thou-
sand for her/' but I'Anson never answered a word.
After i^everley, he began to think that Donati was a
. deceiver, and the post-breaking feat at Carlisle did not
improve matters.
On the Oaks day I'Anson had not discovered her
mouth secret, and as Challoner did not ride her ten-
derly enough, she summarily shut up at the turn.
Before York, she allowed Prologue to lead her in
her fast work ; but backward as she was, Starlight,
whose heels were full of humour, never made her
gallop there, and H. Grimshaw liked his mount so
much, that he backed her to win him three hundred
in the St. Leger. I'Anson's Doncaster hopes re-
vived on Knavesmire, but still he offered her to
Mr. Robinson of Australia for fifteen hundred.
At Stockton she ran out two or three lengths, and
the world did not know how good Oldminster was ;
and Derby did no't at all convince her owner that
there was going to be a Saucebox encore.
Her St. Leger The arrangement that Grimshaw
Race. should come down for a week to Malton
to ride in her gallops, was abandoned, and when she
did come to Doncaster, he met I'Anson at the station
and begged to give up his mount. In short, the night
Turf Cracks. 257
before the race, Lord Stamford had the refusal of her
for 1200/., and if it had not been " all the money" she
would most probably have never started. Challoner's
orders to let her do what she liked with her head were
carried out to the letter, and at the Red House she
was going so well that he felt sure of a place. At
the distance she was still going, and when Kettle-
drum came away, he felt that there was just one
thing for it, and that was to tackle him and never
let Luke have a pull. He found he had the best
of the speed the moment he placed her alongside
of the crack, who was running as game as a bull-
dog in his difficulties,, and there he sat, till the
post was passed, not daring to move on her and touch
her, and expecting every instant that she would
cut it.
It seems but yesterday that we saw The Youth of
Kettledrum for the first time at Mr. Kettledrum.
Cookson's paddocks, in that unsatisfactory transi-
tion state of a yearling in January. He was short,
and not the most elegant, but the strongest limbed
one we ever met with at that age. Rataplan had
been chosen for his dam Hybla, who was never
broken, purely for the sake of the double cross of
Whalebone, through The Saddler and The Baron. It
has alway been this celebrated breeder's theory, that
whatever may be the best strain the mare has, a horse
should be selected with the same. It was on this
ground that Marmalade was sent to Lord of the Isles,
that the double cross of Whalebone might unite
through Waverley and Touchstone. The same end
might have been effected by choosing Chanticleer,
who also stood at Croft, but Dundee's sire got the
preference on account of his Pantaloon strain, which
always nicks well with Whalebone, either through
Castrel, Selim, or Buzzard.
At Doncaster, many took against Kettledrum, as
having far too heavy a top ; but still he had a strong
S
258
Scott and Sebright.
party, and it was then written of him, that " with that
strong neck, and those wonderfully springy pasterns,
it will be strange indeed if he does not race or stay, or
both." Poor William Oates felt no peace of mind till
Colonel Towneley consented to purchase ; and if he
had got his way, nothing would have stopped him for
Dundee as well. The heavy top made the biddings
languid. Messrs. Robinson and J. Dawson were " in"
a few times ; but Mr. Eastwood's nods came from the
dangerous left with the regularity of a piston, and the
craclc fell beneath them for four hundred. Three
times before had Col. Towneley nearly drawn a great
winner in the yearling lottery. Oates had said a great
deal about not going past Thormanby ; and on the
advice of Heseltine, who looked after his dam Peggy
as a boy, money had been bid for Musjid ; and Gla-
diolus was preferred; and but for Mrs. P Anson and her
daughters begging their father not to part with the
blood, the joint offer of 500/. for Haricot and the
yearling Caller Ou would have been accepted. As it
was, Mr. Eastwood bid' 300 gs. for Caller Ou herself
on the very Doncaster Thursday that he bought
Haricot and Kettledrum for Colonel Towneley.
Training To get the young Kettledrum reduced
Kettledrum. [n j3Upc was rather a snail-like process,
and his first gallop was about December with Doefoot,
who received 7lbs., and fairly danced away from him.
At the next time of asking he was some lengths
nearer ; but he was a delicate feeder, aifd never took
regular 'work till a month before the York August.
His preparation had been so short, that although he
got a bad start in the mud, and regularly cut up the
Lincolnshire regiment of Dictator Volunteers, who
crossed the Humber next morning in the direst dismay,
he did badly over the same course on the Friday, and
ran some pounds below his form in the Champagne.
His dentition was tedious, and hence the intention of
coming through with him in the Two Thousand was
Turf Cracks. 259
abandoned. On a straight course he could make his*
own running, when he had a little time to settle, but
he got his head up and crossed his legs immediately
if he tried to do it on a round ones A tremendous
pace was what he wanted, and the style in which he
stole along on the Derby day from Tattenham
Corner,—ever handy with Dundee, when the bay
came down the fatal hill into the straight like a. flash ;
01* flew up the Doncaster one as if he fairly revelled in
the design of Rising Sun to break The Wizard's heart,
and heeded nothing of iolbs. to an Oaks winner,—
was not a sight to be forgotten. The five-year-old
Dilkoosh, who never told them wrong yet, was the
stable barometer, and he was fully 5 lbs. the worst of
the two before the Derby. He was laid up with
plaisters on his legs, long before the St. Leger ; but
from a collateral trial, they believed Kettledrum to
be fully 7 lbs. better than he was at Epsom. Perhaps,
to our eye, he was not in such perfect bloom, but
Yorkminster's flat refusal to help him up to the Red
House was fatal, and instead of taking the fifth double
first, he had to cast in his lot with Cotherstone, Coro-
nation, Thormanby, and the baffled fifteen.
His Doncaster and Epsom guardian Col. Towneiey's
had returned to his velveteen fellows, Paddocks,
and their guns were echoing in chorus among the
plantations on Beatrix and Middle Knowe, when with
Wolfinden Crag as our beacon, we followed the wind-
ings of the "trout-haunted Hodder. Above us were
Staple Oak, Brennand, Whitendale, and Whitmore,
links in the chain of those everlasting hills, and spon-
sors to Newminster and West Australian colts, over
which Heseltine, the Dr. Caius of the glen, watches so
tenderly. The " Black mutton," as the Monks of
Whaley and* the Robin Hoods of the district delicately
termed it in the days of the " Bold Buccleuch," has
departed for ever and aye since the fiat of disparking
went forth. Those who remember the killing of the
S 2
26o
Scott and Sebright.
last buck have long since grown into greybeards, and
when antlers were extinct, the curved horn of the
Lonk King reigned paramount on the dark heather
sides, and up the ash and sycamore gullets of the
Forest of Bowland, of which Mr. Richard Eastwood
was the Bow-bearer. Two counties unite close by the
Root Stud-farm, and we might well ponder whether
we should stop in the West Riding to look at the
Beeswing-like style of the yearling Stella, as she stood
ready to greet us with the Voltigeur-necked Lamb
Hill, and the well-grown Nugget in their polished
boxes of home-forest oak,—or cross the elder-shaded
stream, to give her spotted namesake with Faith,
Emma, and Rosette, of Royal fame, a hearty Lanca-
shire greeting- It was well to be off with the old
love first, so we chose the Yorkshire side.
An Hour with the The old matrons Florence by Veloci-
Brood Mares, pede, and the hollow-backed Boarding
School Miss still remember their Grimston Paddock
days, and enjoy an undying nine months' friendship,
when they meet again each spring. Nelly Hill (on
which Luke Snowdon won his maiden race), Honey-
dew by Touchstone, and the white-faced Haricot,
have nearly as great a bond of union in Langdon
Holme, and the little white-nose tip of Ellermire
reminds us that the quickest starter in England, a
daughter of old Beeswing, the dam of the St. Leger
winner of the year, and the mare who beat off the fly-
ing squadron of King of Trumps, Hospodar, Kingston,
and Ephesus, in a mile at York, are all confederates
now. Rosaura, by Don John the germ of the stud, is
there, with " fifteen or sixteen pure crosses, and yet
one hair in her tail not right," as Heseltine observes in
his fervour ; and so is her daughter Hesperithusa, the
first foal and the first Cup winner that Col. Towneley
ever owned. Her half-sister Passion Flower waits for
an audience close by the edge of the pheasant brake
which fringes the holme, and Heseltine tells triumph-
Turf Cracks.
261
antly how Doefoot, their Liverpool Cup winner, went
as a yearling to Doncaster with old Rosaura, and how
they returned without a single bid. Two white hind
legs marked a second slice of Touchstone in Ame-
thyst, and the blood of Windhound and Melbourne,
which lays rival claim to the honour of Thormanby's
paternity, is united here in the whole brown Be
Quick.
Patience, whom William Oates never failed to have
a word with, and the old steeple-chasing Velocity,
another of the h. b. brand, consort with the white-
legged Evadne in the Smithy Paddocks, and Nightin-
gale, who has nothing but " three event blood in her
veins," gives back an answering note as the white
Velocipede face of King of Trumps is seen approach-
ing across the bridge from Holme Head to give us a
meeting on the knoll. Pompadour, who could boast
of nearly as proud a lineage as Repartee, had just
joined the ranks from Middleham, and Castle Hill,
Rappel, Deerfoot, and Ellerby fill up the boxes, which
Stella, Lamb Hill, Goldfinch, and Campanile have
left. And so year quietly succeeds to year, and year-
ling to yearling; and perchance a third bonfire may
announce the Epsom telegram from the summit of
Staple Oak, and a cheer may be heard at last for a
St. Leger winner, and " the white and black sleeves,"
in its own sweet valley of the Hodder.
262
CHAPTER IV.
STAG, DRAG, AND FLAG.
" I was lately in a company of very worthy people, where we had the
Pleasure of a small Consort of Musick ; a good Hand on the Violin,
and a Young Lady (esteemed a top Mistress), sung and play'd on a
very tine Harpsichord. 'Tis the fashion (you know) for every one
to commend ; and the most,insensible Auditor, for fear of discover-
ing his own Ignorance, must seem to be in Raptures. The Lady
performed to Admiration ; one stared, another talked of Angels
and the Spheres, a third wept, a fourth was ready to drop into a
Trance. At last a very honest Gentleman that sat by in a musing
Posture, having his Ears shaken with a longer and louder Quiver
than ordinary, look'd abroad, and gave me a Nod and Wink, with
this ingenious remark—'By Jingo, I never heard anything better
but a Cry of Dogs ; she draws out her Note like my old Toler.' The
Lady herself was not unacquainted with the Attractions of Hunting,
and (as she told me afterwards) she was more proud of this sincere
compliment from 7'olers master than all the rest she received oil
the occasion."—A Country Squire's Essay on Hunting.
Old Hunting QO spake Old Toler's master, the
Times. ^ sworn liegeman of the Prince of
Orange, with all the freshness of the time when it first
became the highest family ambition to have " a
member for the county, a lad for the living, and a fox
from the family gorse." An earlier generation had
found pleasure in chasing the yellow-breasted marten,
and the bustard. " Thick woods also extended from
the village of St. Giles westward towards Tybourne;
and Mary-le-bonne was then also a great Black Forest,
into which the Queen used to send the Muscovite
ambassador to hunt the wild boar." How and where
the last acorn-eater was run into is involved in his-
torical o-loom ; but no fox was found in Kensington
Stag, Drag; and Flag. 263
Gardens after 1798* when the gardeners combined
against two litters in the sewer " for ^carrying off
water into the fosse under the upper bastion," and
shot one of their own body in their undisciplined
ardour.
Over fox-hunting, whether London or The First Master
provincial, the old Master of Hounds to of the Royal
the King of Wales did not much care Hounds,
to preside. He busied himself more about beaver,
marten, and float, and it was ordained by Forest law,
that, his hunting clothes should be bordered with their
skins. His bugle was the horn of an ox valued at 1
and his protection extended as far as its note could be
heard. He could only be cited to a court of justice
early in the morning, before he had put on his boots,
and whenever he had to be sworn, it was by his horn,
his hound, and his leashes. Such was the Charles
JDavis of antiquity.
There are records of a tremendous run of seventy
miles in the Merrie King's reign, and the Duke of
York with five others rode it from end to end. They
took their stag near Lord Petre's in Essex, and lay
there for the night, and on the earliest opportunity,
the Luke repaired to Court, to give an accurate
account of his saddle labours.
Towards the close of the eighteenth The Royal Stag-
century his Majesty George III. was in hounds,
the zenith of his stag-hunting. Earl Sandwich wore
the golden dog-couples ; Johnson was the huntsman,
and six yeomen prickers, with French horns, wound
the reveille on Holyrood day. The fern-cutters never
put in the sickle before that morning, and his Majesty
seldom failed to give the field its first greeting of the
season, at Charity Farm, or Billing Bear. " Farmer
George" met his hounds twice a week when he was at
Windsor, clad in his light-blue coat, with black velvet
cuffs and top-boots buckled up behind ; but as he
rode nearly nineteen stone, the hounds were very often
264
Scott and Sebright.
Reverence of stopped to bring him on to terms. The
the Country country people loved dearly to see their
People. King amongst them. We cannot cap
the story which Bill Bean (who was hunting six years
before the present century) once begged permission to
tell to the late Prince Consort, when they were taking
the deer in a cellar, that a rustic of that Georgian era
believed his sovereign to have a lion for one arm, and
a unicorn for the other. Still Ave saAv pleasant traces
of the feeling in an old workhouse dame, Avho told us
how, when quite a girl, she had seen the deer killed
near Leatherhead. Years had evidently created a
little confusion in her mind, between the gayer dress
of the huntsman, and the simple insignia of the
King, and so she spake on this wise : "His Majesty
had a scarlet coat and jockey cap, with gold all
about; he had a star on his heart, and we all fell on
our knees."
The King Out The runs were long, and the stags
Hunting. «Moonshine" and " Starlight" earned
their title from the time at which they were taken.
An own brother to " Sir Henry Gott" (a fine old
sportsman, whose hunting-groom ahvays Avore a green
plush coat down to his ankles), gave them the severest
day from Aldermaston to Reading, and as his
Majesty's horses Avere both knocked up, he was seen
returning to Windsor in a butcher's taxed cart, and
talking of crops and stock by the way. The only
emblem of royalty on these occasions was the yeoman
pricker riding 011 either side. At first, these guardians
of the night merely had their hunting-whips ; but
Avhen Ave Avere at Avar Avith all the world, and a spy or
highwayman had shot down Mr. Mellish, the Master
of the Epping Forest lemon pyes, on his return from
hunting, tAvo boys (of Avhom Charles Davis was one),
each Avith a brace of horse pistols, were added to the
hunting corps, and-as soon as the chace was over, they
handed their pistols to two yeomen prickers, in ex-
Stag, Drag; and Flag. 265
change for their horns. The horse for his Majesty's
statues was modelled from the white Adonis, or the
Hanover-bred Arrogant, which were strictly kept as
chargers. Perfection was a favourite hunter, for
many years, but the bay Hobby was his Majesty's
last, and best. By the royal order, no hand but
Mr. Davis's was permitted to shoot him, and his ear
is still kept among that great huntsman's treasures,
with the first hare (a white one) that he ever saw
killed.
The original staghound pack, the whole The Original
forty couple of which were bought by Pack-
Colonel Thornton to go to France, were lemon-pyes,
and black-and-whites, from 24 to 26 inches. Their
skins were rather thin, and their ears " as big as
cobblers' aprons," and in fact they seemed all head and
throat. For half an hour they were very fast, and
gave tongue like " Big Ben but after that they
sobered down, and never thought of racing like the
present foxhound pack for their deer, when it was
sinking. Kennel lameness was the Ascot scourge.
In vain did Sharpe adjourn to Brighton for a month
in the summer, and astonish " the languid bathers on
the Sussex coast," by taking a boat, morning and
afternoon, and making them swim after him till he
looked a sea-god among attendant Tritons, or rather
sea-dogs. They were as bad as ever before they had
been back at Ascot for a week, and until Mr. Davis
had a false flooring put, so as to admit a free current
of air, the effect of the sand upon the bog substratum
was never wholly neutralized. The Goodwood pack
were given to his Majesty in 1813, and sadly the
Sussex men grudged their departure. Their old
kennels were considered a model at that The Goodwood
time, and one Sporting Magazine poet Kennels,
had been inflamed into writing a copy of verses in
the architect's praise. It is only the other day that
we turned aside for a minute under their ivied arch-
266-
Scott and Sebright.
way, to have a look at such a memorable spot. Two
stone foxes guard it yet; but the Southdowns in the
meadow beneath told how truly Goodwood had found
a new love, before which, even the horn and the " red
cap with golden tassel" had to bow; and all those
pleasant hazel copses, across which old Tom Grant
rattled the cubs so often in the dew of the autumn
morning, invite him and his badger-pyes back in vain.
With this pack a new state of things began at the
kennel. Mr. Davis, whose father was " the hare-
huntsman" to royalty, left the harriers to become first
whip, the Duke of Richmond's men going on second
and third, and Sharpe blew his first blast on a Robin
Hood, instead of a French horn.
George iv. s The Prince Regent, who used to draw
Hunting. hjs deer supplies from the New Forest
each August, left stag for fox about '93, and with Mr.
Poyntz, their ex-master, as his manager, and Sharpe
as his huntsman, he took the H. H. country and
Albury Park, whose ale cellar alone was valued at
five hundred. His Royal Highness met the stag-
hounds no more, either in his royal father's reign or
his own. Once he thought of coming out again with
the harriers, and had his breeches and boots duly
ordered, but he never put them on. Mr. Davis's
appointment as huntsman in 1822 was quite after his
heart. " It delights me," he wrote, after it was gazetted
" to hear that you've got the hounds; I hope you'll
get them so fast that they'll run away from every-
body." Such was the handsel of that ever memorable
career.
Mr. Davis's Best ~ Mr. Davis was then thirty-four, and had
Runs. been exactly the term of a minority in
the royal service, and spent a third of it with the
harriers. It needs a Bill Bean to truly tell his tri-
umphs ; of his stopping hounds when they had a
slow deer in front of them, and of the daring talent of
those casts, which none but the old stag-hunters can
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 267
fathom till they see the hounds again striking the line,
Mr. Davis's own ideas of his fastest things centred
upon two. The first was from Salt Hill to the " Old-
aker kennels," fourteen miles within the hour, and he
remembered it too well from the fact that his rat-
tailed Nimble broke down. Mr. Harvey Combe, who
was then the master of the Old Berkeley, happened
to be on the flags that day. They took out their
watches to mark the time before any one came up.
Lord Alvanley was placed second at the end of ten
minutes, but he jocularly claimed to reverse the yacht-
iftg rule, and claimed " some minutes to the good over
Davis for my extra tonnage."
Richmond Trump gave them such a Fun in the Vale
tremendous twenty miles from Aylesbury of Aylesbury,
to Twyford Mill, that he was re-named " Twyford
and he seemed so anxious to deserve the name, that
he took them in his next run to Twyford in Oxford-
shire. The first was a white stone day, in Lord Lich-
field's first year of mastership ; and Mr. Davis rode
The Clipper, so called from being the first that was
ever clipped for royal use. He had been originally in
harness, and as he was up to sixteen stone, and his
rider, even with a 7lb.-coat, did not ride above ten
stone, he went through from end to end over grass in
little more than an hour and a quarter. The hounds
never checked for bullocks or anything else ; and as
Mr. Davis lay in the ditch with one arm round the
deer's neck, he took out his watch with the other. For
twenty minutes he had no companions, save the miller
and his men, who were not a little astonished at the
position of affairs ; a gasping huntsman, " a hor-;^
stag," and a pack baying like mad.
Still Mr. Davis felt his position much The Marquis
more perilous when Earl Errol had es- at Bay-
tablished a club at Aylesbury, and went for a week
into the country. The Marquis of Waterford came
to see the fun, and a merry time there was of it at
268
Scott and Sebright.
the White Hart. Mr. Davis slipped away early, and
they determined to be revenged. When they had
conducted one of Mr. Osman Ricardo's handiest
horses into the big room, and made him jump over
the chairs and tables, the next proposition was to
" unearth the old badger." Recognising whom they
meant by the expression, Mr. Davis was out of bed
in an instant, and almost before he could get his
door locked, and a table and a chest of drawers thrust
against it, he heard the horse coming upstairs and
the men of war with him. A fearful attack was
made on the entrenchments, but they were not to be
carried. Mr. Davis stood well to his guns within,
and the landlord, whose patience had been exhausted
by the horse's ascent, fought like a Trojan without,
and " the old badger" lay curled in his earth till
morning.
Visit to the Royal Ascot Heath seemed drear and strange
Kennels. as we walked across it, to pay our an-
nual May visit to Mr. Davis and the hounds. Two or
three horses were slowly cantering round in their
sheets, but even quite a summer sun overhead could
not light up the scene ; and it was one desolate ex-
panse of brown ling and bracken, with here and there
a solitary gorse flower. Time had dealt very gently
with the veteran himself, as all the field allowed that
they never saw him go better or enjoy the sport more
than during the seasons of 1861-2. His parlour was
rich in picture history. Mr. Farquharson and Jem
Treadwell, by Mr. Davis's late brother, occupied the
post of honour over the chimney-piece, and, in fact,
the great majority of the engravings were from paint-
ings by his well-known hand. Old Hermit, who loved
nothing more dearly than the doubles in the Vale, was
there in no less than seven positions, and Columbine,
who finally went to the Duke of Beaufort's and bred
some rare coach-horses, was not forgotten. The little
chestnut Sepoy was happily still ripe and ready for the
Stag; Drag, and Flag, 269
Buck's side ; but poor Pioneer's seven seasons among
the stiffer fences of Berks were ended.
The earliest picture of Mr. Davis him- Pictures and
self (who rode everything in a simple Testimonials,
snaffle) represented him as a lad of eighteen, whipping-
in to his father with the Royal Harriers ; and beneath
it hung the series of English Hunt Pictures, which
preserve so vividly the fine outline of the head of Tom
Goosey, and the thunder and lightning features of
the redoubtable Jack Shirley. The Silver Testimonial
of'59 was in the dining-room, with Lord Maryborough's
bust on guard. Lord Chesterfield's mastership was
commemorated by a silver stag-group, and tributes of
the same character were ranged daintily below it, and
flanked by two horns, one of them the gift of the
present Duke of Beaufort. Not the least among them
was the hoof of a hunter, The Miller, whose white fore
hoof was selected in preference to his black, to show
that popular prejudice as to soundness may err.
Radiant, Byron, and Landscape of the beautiful skulls,
were foremost among the hounds ; and the Ripley
Deer twice over claimed his place, both in his paddock
and going like great guns with his head quite low. The
Miller ran for thirteen seasons ; and went for eleven
before he became cunning and useless. They seldom
used to uncart him more than three times a season,
and then Mr. Davis always put an extra guinea in his
pocket, as he knew it would be a case of sleeping out
for his men. This noted deer was a hero of Lord
Maryborough's time, and looked such a rough unpre-
pared thing, that Mr. Davis could hardly persuade
his lordship to hunt him. He knew his lines of
country so well that if he got a few hundred
yards wide, he would invariably right himself; and
at times he would swim a river, dodge down the
opposite bank, and lie with his nose just out of the
water.
In the kennel we begged to have Waterloo, of
270
Scott and Sebright.
The Hound that rich grey tan family by Woodman
Kennel. from Fife Wishful, and his sisters, Wanton,
Waspish, and Widgeon (my " Little Lady," as Mr.
Davis always termed her) drawn together. Then we
had out the Rockwoods, seven couple strong—Relish,
Rakish, and Rally on one side of the rails, and Ring-
wood, Rifler, Random, and Rasselas on the other.
There they stood, almost a pack by themselves, and
yet it was a mere oversight, which Mr. Davis sadly
deplored at the time, which brought the first lot of
them into being. The old dog was of course there,
looking as meek but yet as sly as a Quaker, and run-
ning well in his sixth season. He was from the old
Goodwood sort, which Mr. Davis always found to
last the longest; but he was then the victim of kennel
lameness, which stopped him a good deal in his
regular work.
Old Swiniey A walk of two miles over the common,
Revelries. past the edge of the heath, and finally
up a pleasant avenue found us at Swiniey Paddocks.
The house where the Marquis of Cornwallis and
divers ancient masters of buckhounds kept such state,
and where huntsmen and foresters drained horns quite
as often as they blew them, has long since disap-
peared, and there was nothing save a large indenta-
tion in the ground, under the shade of some noble
limes, to mark the tomb of all such revelry. High
holiday was kept there when George III. was king,
and each fourth of June came round. The Master of
the hounds gave a great dinner to all the foresters
and farmers, and twice or thrice the Royal party
drove over and watched them while they danced upon
the green.
The Deer The Cotterill family live in a solitary
Paddocks, house close by, and the present man's
father and mother discharged the duties of deerkeeper
for 79 years. George Cotterill, the son, passes quite
a simple forest life, without even a badge or livery for
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 271
high days. He knows no special festival of St.
Hubert; but sundry trophies of departed favourites
hang round his walls. Wildboy's head is there ; and
judging from it he may well speak of him as " the
largest deer I ever saw." There, too, in due array,
are the four feet of Sepoy, of whom Cotterill has a
vivid recollection as being not only a first-rate, but
" a most amiable deer." His herd consisted of about
21, and stags were once all the rage ; but the difficulty
of getting them to run well between October and
Christmas determined the question in favour of the
haviers and *hinds. Many of the former are caught
and cut as calves at ten days old, and then they never
have horns ; while those which are selected later 011
for their style of going, throw up one set of antlers
with soft tips after the operation. The Windsor
Little Park and Richmond Park stags have not done
well, and the best have come from the Great Park,
which may be owing to the breed having been more
crossed. The red deer from Woburn were the finest
strangers, as instead of the usual cat-hams, they had
quarters more like a horse, with- rare backs and
gaskins to match. In Lord Errol's mastership, the
hounds went each April to the New Forest; Lord
Palmerston used to meet them there, and Mr. Asshe-
ton Smith and nineteen other masters of hounds were
once in the field together.
Nearly all the stags are born in Windsor n n.
Great Park, and the ill-luck which at- eer 16
tended four that were bought for 80/. from Chilling-
ham in Lord Kinnaird's time, decided them to keep to
the home breds. Of this quartet Percy and Douglas
did not run particularly well ; and the other two,
Robin Hood and Rob Roy, met with tragical deaths—
one of them being spiked on some palings, and the
other jumping over a railway bridge. Three runs in
one season is a good allowance, and they have to be
kept in tip-top condition to achieve that. Clover hay
2/2
Scott and Sebright.
of the second crop, as the first is rather too coarse for
their teeth, is given them at the rate of about 7 trusses
per week for the 17, and to this are added 2 bushels
of the smallest and heaviest old beans that can be
got, with carrots to vary matters in the winter. The
deer-cart stood in a shed in the first paddock, on the
door of which was nailed a foot, of apocryphal age;
and the sick-house was in another corner, but with
only Whimsey and her puppies in possession.
Paddock We were quite sorry to disturb a most
Exercise. harmonious and picturesque jparty of deer
and cock pheasants in the next paddock. The former
will come warmly enough round Cotterill at feeding
time, but they would not fraternize with strangers at
all, and we took care that they should show their
action in three or four smart gallops. Richmond,
with his fine antlers and great length, was far the
most imposing among them, and he derived his name
from having been dropped in the park of that ilk, to
which he did the highest credit. He and The Doctor
raced for the lead in the first heat, and in the second
Sulky, who earned that unenviable name from his
performance, or rather non-performance, at Hawthorn
Hill, took the lead and kept it throughout. As to the
third, we have an indistinct idea of Lightning, a very
small but nicely-made hind, cutting well in at the
turns, and-getting the lead from Jack Tar, the biggest
there, but with not an inch of apology for horns,
and of Red Rover finishing close up.
Carting the On the day before hunting, a well-
Deer. trained sheep-dog is called in to separate
the chosen pair from the rest, and they are driven
across paddock No. 3, to the enclosure in the corner,
and so into a little house just big enough for a brace
to fast in all night. It is very dangerous to go into
them there, except with a large board for a shield;
and the pieces of hair strewn about proved how fierce
some of the anti-Cotterill conflicts must have been
Stag) Drag, and Flag, 273
before he got them righted. King Cole was quite a
savage ; but as Cotterill used to say, " I wouldn't care
about his fighting the shield if he'd only fight the
country'd One side of this house has a moveable
window, against which the door of the van is backed,
and as the deer of the day has been adjusted, by dint
of shield fighting, into the half of the house nearest
the window, he gets the first leap, and running up one
side of the partition-board in the van and round the
space at the end, naturally settles with his head
ready for " putting himself on the country." The
partition-board is then pushed up to the end, and the
reserve deer has to jump in, and ride with his head to
the horses.
A run from Farnham Common on Peculiarities of
March 1st, 1861, was the last great thing Great Stags,
that the lamented Sepoy (who first showed his form
on the morning that news of the fall of Delhi arrived)
ever gave them. He was out once more on Easter
Monday, and was taken, after a run from Maidenhead
Thicket, six miles beyond High Wickham, among the
junipers at Mapple Common, where very few were left
to see him dodging like a beaten fox ; but he never
lived to come back, and broke his leg that night,
fretting over his captivity in a barn. They had
hunted him four times a season since 1857, and he is
quite embalmed in Mr. Davis's memory, with Wood-
man, the Ripley, and the Hendon deer. He was not
a very large deer, but good in any country ; of " the
straight bang-away sort," no sulkiness or subterfuge,
never letting a hound see him till he was fairly tired,
and invariably taking some distant hill for his point.
He was originally bred in Windsor Park, and there
was not a bite upon him after all his perils.
Red Hart was also a marvellous deer, of about the
same size ; but, unfortunately, when he got to a spot
where he had been before, he never would leave it,
even if he had another half hour in him. Occasionally
T
Scott and Sebright.
lie would make an honourable compromise, by running
a 'short circuit and back again ; but this was rather
the exception than the rule. Cashiobury Park was a
very favourite spot with him ; and it was beautiful to
see the hounds pick it out when he got among the
fallow-deer there; and when Harry joined the red
ranks once more in Windsor Great Park they actually
stopped, and looked up to Mr.. Davis for counsel, at
the point where he entered the herd, after holding it
for a few hundred yards over the foiled ground. The
flints in the fair fields of Bucks play havoc with them ;
and Jack Tar, who made the.hounds sleep out two or
three times, came to grief in consequence at last.
Harry The specialty of the ten-year-old Harry
of five season renown, was that he liked
to finish in a house, and would never leave a wood if
he was once there ; and that he would have one parti-
cular run, and that the Bracknell one. In fact, " Harry
and BrackneW acted quite like a charm upon the
London men, and they were loth indeed to miss it. They
knew the length of his foot to a nicety that morning;
and he never sent them back without seeing Binfield,
Billing Bear, Haynes Hill, Ruscombe Lake, Hare
Hatch, Park Place, " then~down the hill to Medenham
Abbey, and there we are" three times a season.
Commodore was very great in deep ground, and
Cranbourne's forte was in a hill-and-wood country, as
he never dwelt in it by any chance; and once gave
Mr. Davis nearly forty miles home of it, from Gar-
sington, near Oxford. Woodman, who was then in
his eighth season, would not be taken at all, and went
on jumping, at the end of a very long run, among the
fields near Highgate, till he broke a blood-vessel and
died. Two jumped over a railway bridge, thirty feet
into a cutting ; and the renowned Kit-Kat was hope-
lessly lost in his fourth season, and no doubt became
the prey of some venison-stealer. He got into a large
cover, and the heavy rain from the boughs destroyed
Stag', Drag, and Flag. 275
the scent so completely, that they gave him up. Tom
Wingfield sent word, in a month's time, that he was
in a cover near Mr. Drake's ; but he was nowhere to be
found when the hounds arrived.
The late Marquis of Waterford improved The Great
his Aylesbury recollections when he was Leicestershire
at Lowesby, and the " Great Leicester- Stag Hunt'
shire Stag Hunt" was the earliest result. The prepa-
rations for the meet at Twyford were on a remarkable
scale. The stag was trained for days before in a
large walled kitchen-garden, and the Marquis with a
horn and a whip and a couple of little dogs kept him
in exercise for hours among the gooseberry bushes.
The hounds had one of their best pipe-openers by
running the drag of a clerical visitor, whose horse's
feet had been secretly aniseeded, and all seemed ripe
for action except the huntsman. He was a stranger,
and the grooms and second horsemen had got at him,
and made him so low-spirited by their geographical
sketches of the probable line of country, that his pack
was doubled in his eyes before he was told to lay
them on. The stag made his point for the Queni-
borough-road, between Barsby and South Croxton,
and then bent to the right, through Barsby village,
leaving Gaddesby on the left. Up to this point the
huntsman had gone well, and hallooing like a maniac ;
but his right foot was seen to fly up as high as his own
head, crossing a ridge and furrow, and he was heard
of no more. The Marquis on Saltfish was then left in
command, and the hounds ran well for Brooksby, and
down the turnpike road for Rearsby village. There
the stag bolted into a farm-yard, and finally into a
cellar, with his lordship and Tom Hey cock after
him, and kicked the spigot out of the ale barrel, and
flooded the place before those eminent specials could
secure him.
Riders were lucky who could find their "The Marquis's"
way home, as the precaution had been Freaks.
T 2
276
Scott and Sebright.
duly taken of sawing the guide-posts in that part,
and turning the arms the wrong way. Those be-
tween Lowesby and Leicester especially suffered, and
are still braced with iron as a token. At all events it
was a great day; and how the Marquis once rode to
Melton and back, thirteen miles in the hour by moon-
light, and jumped all the stiles between Twyford and
Lowesby on his way back; how he fastened his
horses into the fishing-boat from Lowesby Pond, and
enjoyed the locomotion along the frosty road, till
they took fright at Twyford Windmill, and leapt the
hedge; how he and his friend Sir Frederick Johnson
bought a gipsy baby for 51, (as a salve for having
overset an encampment the night before, by means of
a rope tied round each of their horses' necks), and in
order to get rid of it, stuck it on to a hedge to shoot
at, as they told the mother, till that nut-brown dame
crept up behind, and nipped off with it; how he
stopped a pulling horse, by riding him at a hedge, on
the other side of which he had made a deep hole full
of water, and exclaimed, "There, old fellow, I have
you nowand how he missed buying Mr. Hodgson's
lady pack, from looking too long at the dogs—will
long be told at the midland firesides, along with the
Great Leicestershire Stag Hunt.
Baron Roths- Most of the principal herds in the
child's Deer, kingdom have furnished deer for the
Barons of " The Vale," but with very varied success.
The five brace from Stowe failed, but two out of a
trio from the Cheltenham Hunt went most famously.
The Berkeley deer were middling, and the Knowesley
ones were too tame, and lacked jumping qualities.
One of the stags was, however, a brilliant exception,
but after his first run from Pitchcote over The Vale
to Tring Park, the hounds got him down in a muddy
pool, near Lord Lonsdale's kennels, and Tom Ball on
Billy the Beau could not get up in time to save him.
Mr. Drax's were out of condition when they came,
Stag, Drag, and Flag,.
2 77
and were killed off very quickly before they were
thoroughly fit. Those from Richmond Park went in
pretty good form, but Sir Clifford Constable's,—
which strained back to some of the originals that did
such service to the Hon. Grantley Berkeley when he
kept staghounds at Cranfield Bridge,—showed, along
with the too few which could be got from Woburn,
the finest sport of all. Sir Clifford's were larger and
lighter in their colour, but hardly so strong in their
loins as the Woburn deer, and required very careful
picking. Of the two breeds, they were the larger
and the better scented, and were all sent as haviers
with cropped ears.
" Burton Constable " was the wildest sir Clifford's
and straight est going amongst them, and Deer-
once when he was turned out at Wing, Lord William
Beresford was almost the only man at the take near
Oakley, in Mr. Drake's country, after eighteen miles
by the Ordnance map. " Pipemaker," another of
these Holderness flyers, was apt to run a ring for
the first mile, but when he did get his head
straight, ten to fifteen miles was his regulation allow-
ance, and if he had the chance he was sure to
point for the Claydon or Doddershall country. From
Perren's Farm over a very rough country on to the hills
near Checquers Court was another of his great things.
One of the hinds was, we believe, the heroine of
the run of nearly twenty-four miles over the Brill
Hills to the turnpike on the Thame Road, close by
Oxford, and she never hung for a second in the
Wootton House Woods. Roffey, the huntsman,
killed his Little Billy on this day, and Baron Na-
thaniel on Foscote, and Mr. Crommelyn beat all the
field out except Tom Ball on Paddy, who had no
second horse to assist him. The shade of Little Billy
was avenged the next time she was uncarted, and
great was the lamentation over her. The Chesterton
Hind was also killed, but it was remembered in con-
278
Scott and Sebright.
nexion with her death, how Tom Crommelyn want on
Nonsense; and how the Hon. Robert Grimston and
Bill Golby jumped the Rousham Brook. Not content
with that, Mr. Grimston, when only himself and two
others were left in the run, charged the Eythrop river,
brimming full, and swam out on a different side to
his mare.
The best Woburn stag survived all his four season
perils, and after giving them an infinity of good runs,
became so infirm in his joints that he was sold as a
stock deer. His greatest effort was from Golby's
Farm, to Dunstable, when only three rode at the
brook near Blackgrove Wood, and Mr. Oldaker and
another got in. One of the Woburn hinds was
drowned in the river below Thame in a run, which told
out all the gentlemen except Young Baron Nathaniel
on Peacock, and Baron Alphonse, and they could
not get nearer than Wootton; and Ribston Pippin
dropped dead under Tom Ball, a hundred yards
after he had laid the hounds on to another of the
hinds, which ran from Cublington to Hanslope. The
Duke could only spare a brace of these jewels each
season. They inherited, immense speed from the
large, wild park where they were dropped, and their
dark red coats, smutty faces, and fineness in the
single, induced the belief that they had got some
high-bred foreign cross originally.
Harvey Combe. Harvey Combe, the biggest havier
that Baron Rothschild ever had, earned
his name from having been taken in the old Berkeley
country. He never waited or hung, and made up for
his lack of pace by his eternal bottom. His grandest
run was from Aston Abbotts through Eythrop to
Thame. He was brought out as second deer, and by
mere chance Baron Lionel, who was going home with
the hounds, met the deer-cart, which had missed
its mark. This havier was particularly adapted for
the Vale, as he did not care for being mobbed by
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 279
" the carrion," who pretend to hunt with the Baron,
and carry out their boast by starting off as their
only chance along the roads the moment the deer is
uncarted. Still true to a favourite's fate, he died at
last in a cesspool near Ledburn. Another havier
met a rather more tragical death. He was uncarted
at Wing, and went right over the Vale to Shardloes,
where every one was beaten off except Tom Ball on
Economy, and Tom was obliged at last to leave his
mare on the road, and run over three fields to Mr.
Grove's Farm at Amersham, just in time to find him
impaled to his very back-bone on the iron palisades
near the house. The white-faced havier must not
be forgotten. He had strayed into the grounds of
Combe Abbey, and Roffey was sent down with ten
couple to catch him, and he proved himself worthy of the
toil in his first one hour ten minutes without a check.
The Barons Rothschild commenced The Baron's
their pack in the spring of '39, and Pack-
Bill Roffey, who was great on the Carbonaro mare,
hunted them till the gout gave him warning. Bar-
wick, Tom Ball, and Fred Cox have held the horn
in turn. Fourteen or fifteen couple of Sir Charles
Shakerley's staghounds, which were almost entirely
of Cheshire blood, began the pack, and they wrere
strengthened with a draft from Mr. Harvey Combe,
whose Osbaldeston's Tapster was used pretty freely.
Gunnersbury by Osbaldeston's Falstaff from Cheshire
Guilesome was one of the first and best that they
ever bred, and was the.sire of Dairymaid. Cheshire
also sent a draft, and Berkeley Castle did the same
for two seasons. Among the latter was old Paradox,
who contributed Primrose and Princess, and some
other beauties to the lady pack, but never bred a dog-
hound straight enough for Baron Lionel's fancy. Fitz-
villiam Marmion suited her best, but still it was the
Feudal and Bluecap blood, the former especially, which
made the Mentmore kennel so indebted to the Milton.
28o
Scott and Sebright.
The smutted-faced Feudals were quite staghounds
by nature. They broke themselves, and one word
was sufficient to stop them. Sebright always de-
clared that the old dog was one of the most sensible
that he ever cheered. At one time there were five or
six couple of the sort in work, and although his sons
did not get their stock with quite the same substance,
the taste for the slot did not dwindle. Fitzwilliam
Bluecap was also represented by eight couple at one
time, but their beautiful noses were rather counter-
acted by their head-long style. There were also a
few in the kennel by Belvoir Rallywood (when he was
at Brocklesby), and of Belvoir Ranter as well. With
their introduction to " The Vale," they seemed to
forget all about fox, and when one jumped out of a
hedgerow and ran up a furrow in view, close behind
the deer, they let it bend to the right without even
noticing it, and went straight over the fence.
Limits of The During October, an old deer or two
Vale- are turned down on the Ivinghoe and
Chiltern Hills, on the Dunstable side, to give the
hounds a good half-hour or three-quarters with blood
at the end ; and very early in November they descend
into The Vale, which is all doubles and grass. Winslow
to Marsh Hill below Aylesbury, and Mentmore to the
Claydon Woods are the limits of this splendid coun-
try. Golby's Farm is its Kirby Gate; but Aston
Abbott's is its queen of meets, as it generally secures
them a run for Hardwicke, or over the endless acres
of Creslow Big Ground. The Rousham, the Hard-
wicke, the Creslow, the Winslow, and the Hulcoat
Brooks have all brought grief to heroes, and heroines
as well, who will try to be even with the huntsman,
" even if he goes through a canal." Black Grove and
Quainton are the deepest countries, and there is
scarcely a hedge in them without a back brook to it.
The Rothschild Baron Meyer used to hunt on both,
Cracks. but Monday was Sir Antony's, and
Stag; Drag; and Flag. 281
Thursday Baron Lionel's day. Baron Lionel has gone
best on Rachel the old bay steeple-chaser, who was
wonderfully clever and steady among the doubles.
A grey was another of his favourites ; and he rode
Grouse latterly, till the black injured its coffin bone
on landing over a brook, and had to be shot that
day. Sir Antony has been most at home on Pea-
cock and Topthorn; and Sir Nathaniel's delights be-
fore he went to reside in Paris, were Foscote and
Scotsfoot. As a proof of their good going, they
fetched a thousand guineas when they Were sold,
and the latter won the Cheltenham steeple-chase.
Baron Meyer's peculiars have been Hornsby, King
Charles, and Squib, and it was on King Charles be-
fore he received his knee accident, that he popped
over the very high posts and rails by the side of a gate,
at which a whole crowd were waiting, and got cheered
for his style of solving " the real jam" difficulty.
Grouse, King Pippin, and Harkover Grouse> King
were the elite of Tom Ball's lot. He had Pippin, and
won a steeple-chase on Grouse, a big Harkover-
horse by Muley Moloch, at Aylesbury, and run second
to Dragsman at Chelmsford. Waterloo was Grouse's
original name, which was intended to point attention
to a wart that had been cut out of his ear, and as he gave
Roffey one or two falls, he thought that he was rather
blind. However he soon became a top sawyer, and
" galloped everything blind" on a great day from
Whaddesdon Windmill to Hudnall Common; and
Mr. Crommelin, who stayed the longest, was glad to
give in, four miles from the finish, at the foot of
Ivinghoe Hills. The chestnut Harkover, who had
won a steeple-chase near Oxford with Bob Barker
upon him, was a wonder through dirt or at a brook.
During their four seasons together, he never gave
Tom a fall, and if there were not too many casts, and
he was not " rifled about " early in the day, he was
not to be beaten. He carried his head up like a deer,
282
Scott and Sebright.
and was ridden in a double-reined snaffle and mar-
tingale, and although he never seemed to see them, he
" went at the doubles forty miles an hour, as if he was
going to eat them."
Still at this branch of science, he was not such an
artiste as the little King Pippin, whose praise was in
all The Vale, and who never required of Tom Ball
to open any gates. If there was no landing in a
double, he crushed through it, and out like a shot,
and once on a time, he jumped six or seven yards
over some trees and a sawpit, which were ensconced
on the other side of one of them. Such have been the
trio of leaders in their day, and when Lord Petre was
on his chestnut, the Hon. Robert Grimston on All
Serene, Mr. Oldaker on Pilot, James Mason on Wil-
lesden, Cheslyn Hall on Brutandorf, Sam Baker on
The Corporal, Mr. F. Knight on The Tory, Mr. Crom-
melin on Nonsense, Mr. Dawncey on a little chestnut
mare as good in her way as his Alderneys, Mr. Lee
on an old un of Charles Payne's, Mr. Learmouth on
Jerry, and Will Golby, Will Eustace, and Morrice on.
their best, they have had to meet a field which it was
a glory to cut down.
Bin Bean, the A word on Bill Bean and the drag-hunt.
Arch-trespasser What " stable mind " in and round the
of England. metr0polis is not cognizant of that arch-
trespasser, once the very Apollyon of the farmers in
the Harrow and Stanmore country—that ancient
youth who was stag-hunting nearly ten years before
the century began, and ready still, in his disgust at
the degeneracy of the steeple-chase age, to "jump
my old pony Bean Stalk blindfold over a fence," which
had been denounced at Hendon as presenting a pre-
mium on coroners' inquests. Still, a service of seventy
years in the saddle has had its disadvantages. There
are the books of doctors extant and deceased, whose
testimony welded together would furnish some little
account as follows :
Slag, Drag, and Flag.
283
" 1792-1862.
"Mr. William Bean.
"To Messrs. .
"Attending you when you broke both your thumbs, fractured the
near leg (twice), broke the near ribs, injured the near knee, dislocated
the near shoulder, ditto off shoulder, scalped your head, broke your
nose, and other severe falls, £ , &c."
" Actceon Nimrod, Esq., Tyho Paddocks, Huntingdon-
shire" was the name which his deer-cart bore. The
yokels used to stare at it, and say, " See Tom / what
a long ivay they've corned!' At one time he purposed
inscribing on it, " William Bean, Land Surveyor,"
but the conception was too grand and too dangerous.
With the hounds he was more open, and duly branded
them with a B. Hence another identity-puzzle arose
among the rurals. Says Jack to Tom, " What does
that big B mean on the hounds V' Says Tom, in
reply, " Why, J ack, you ain't half sharp this morning :
it manes ' The Baron's', to be sure."
The deer-cart inscription was but a The Perils of
very faint index of the mission of that the Dras-
remarkable M. S. D. H., after whom so many tax-
gatherers toiled in vain. When the Chancellor of the
Exchequer's fangs were almost in him, he would " fold
his tent like the Arab, and as silently steal away,"
into another district with Splendour, and the rest of
the five couples, old Will White and the three brace
of deer. Sometimes he would be at Willesden, then
at Finchley, and anon at Golders Green. Be the kennel
where it might, Captain Nesbitt and the guardsmen and
a dozen or two more of "the upper ten thousand,"
&c., always had the office, but whether it was to be
stag or drag, they never exactly knew. Five or six
years ago the pack was given up, and Splendour, that
meekest of hounds, who could carry half a bellyfull
of victuals, and three pounds of shot round his neck,
and yet hold the lead, was given to Mr. Tom Mason,
with whom he lately died. He had stood by his
master in perilous times; and when farmers would
284
Scott and Sebright.
vindictively house the deer, and he " ran heel"-to tell
him, they generally knew that their trespassing was
over for that day. Bill was more fortunate when he
merely drove his deer into a china closet, or when he
coaxed a farmer (who had been previously breathing
out pitch-forks and slaughter against him) into a
public-house, while his barn lock was being wrenched,
and actually getting him to put on his coat and cap to
see how he liked himself in the character of a British
sportsman, left him at last to pay the score. But the
drag was the thing after all, and in the trusty Will's
hands, it became an engine of the deepest agricultural
oppression.
Will White and Will White had been originally an
his Successor officer's servant in the Tenth, and when
Klt" he was no longer in commission, his fine eye
for country recommended him to Bill Bean. When he
had duly fastened the aniseed cloth to his shoes, he
would be told to come out at a certain milestone nine or
ten miles, away, and even if he had never been over the
line before, he was certain to hit it to a half or a quar-
ter of a mile. His finest performance was starting on
Hampstead Heath, and going as straight as a pigeon
to the ninth milestone on the Romford Road. " There's
London, Will, and there's Romford," said his master,
pointing with his whip, and Will touched his cap, and
waited to hear no more. He got over the widest
brooks by making for a reclining pollard, and jumping
with a sort of double-jointed spring from the top ; and
the hounds ran into him on the Bull's Eye night as he
was snugly seated, after his toils, in a public-house at
Hanwell. The customers were more tolerant of his
aniseed flavour than the farmers. One of the latter
went so far as to say that " He's a rcgidar nuisance; he
injures oitr implementsand when he was asked to
explain his dark speech, he replied, "Hegoes and sits on
them in the fields to rest himself, and leaves such a smell
of aniseed that our men wont go near them." On
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 285
another occasion, he was taken up before a magistrate
for trespassing. The complainant swore that he was
only on the footpath, but that he " knew he was tres-
passing by the smell," and was exceedingly surprised
at the dismissal of the case. Dulwich Park was a great
country for him, as it was in Chancery at the time, and
no one looked after trespassers. The perpetual heats
and colds killed the poor fellow at last, and " Kit,"
his Irish successor, was generally too drunk either to
run or drive. In his private account of this malady,
he threw the whole onus on to the deer cart. " Kit,
my boy, one of them says 1 It's a could morning for yet
' Faith and it is says I! i Kit, my boy, will you have a
nip of anything f So I coiddn't be off refusing. ' Kit,
my boy I says another, ' what deer have you got to-day V
' Faith, and it's not iligant in me to telly el ' I'll stand
ye a little drop if you will.' So I had a little drop wid
him. Faith, and that deer-cart wotdd make any boy
drunk ?"
The two "Gunners" and Red Deer Bill Bean's
did well, but " Chunee" was one of Bill Horses.
Bean's best, although he did give him thirty-seven
falls in a very limited space of time. He was the
biggest and the stupidest of hunters, and received his
name from the elephant which attracted so many
visitors to Exeter Change. A noble lord, who was
not averse to the drag, gave 200 guineas for him and
declared that he would now " serve out all the white
gates in Yorkshire." In due time his lordship reported
from his bed to Bill, that he had, in an incredibly short
time, run up his fall score to seventeen on him, and
despairing of stopping him, when he took the bit
in his teeth, he had sent him at a haystack, in
which Chunee had buried his head eight feet, and
then tumbled backwards. Knowing his locomotive
antecedents, Bill replied that he could believe all that
and a great deal more of Chunee. His lordship also
bought old Bag o' Nails, alias " Old Bag," who had
286 Scott and Sebright.
lamed himself by jumping with Bill into a gravel-pit.
He could shuffle along very well in spite of it, and it
used to be said that " he was so lame that he couldn't
get up in time for the foxhounds ; but he was always
ready for the drag at one o'clock."
Persecution of The farmers said that they did not
the Farmers. mind John Elmore as he was always so
polite, and would stop when they told him ; but " as
for that Bill Bean, when we're ordering him not to go
over one place, he only pops over another." In vain
did they lock up their gates, pile hurdles on to them, and
lie in ambush with pitchforks and other missiles, when
they saw the avani courier of the Aniseed sweep by
like the storm. One of them watched till nearly dusk,
and then heard the hounds go past, as he sat tri-
umphantly at his tea. He was in fact so astonished
that he found himself reduced to asking Bill in con-
fidence how he did manage in the dark, and was ad-
mitted to his confidence in return. DidriI you see
us f" said Bill; " we ride with a hdl's-eye on eack
stirrup, and a bulVs-eye on our breast-plates, we can go
just as well by night as by day!' Well might the per-
secuted ones say ever after that when they heard the
cry, " There goes Bull's Eye Bill / it's no use trying
to stop him!' He was not always so good to know.
The legs and the seat might seem like his, but as
often as not there was an enormous false nose, a
fiery red moustache of fearful size, and red wafers on
the checks, which utterly destroyed his upper-part
identity.
The Great Notices not to trespass arrived by every
indignation post, and the Uxbridge ordinary resolved
Meeting. itself almost weekly into an Indignation
Meeting. "Bull's Eye Bill" must and shall be put
down. The day for striking the blow arrived, and as
the arch-trespasser sat under his own fig-tree at Wil-
lesden, a clatter of horses' hoofs down the road broke
on his guilty ear. In a few minutes a phlanx of
Stagy Drag, and Flag. 287
farmers presented themselves/ and the very air seemed
whitened with notices. Keeping his seat he received
the " patent fulminators" from his foes with the most
baffling courtesy. He marked and numbered each
with a pencil as he received it His countenance was
unmoved, and wore the very slightest shade of con-
trition to be in keeping with the crisis. When the
several notices were delivered a scroll containing
their substance and all the names, was presented
by a deputy on a sheet of foolscap. " I can't read
it in your presence, gentlemen !" said Bill, " it would not
be fespectfal',' and it was docketed with the rest of the
papers. The situation seemed an alarming one,
but ere another sun had set his line of action was
taken.
Calling his first lieutenant to him, he How Bill At_
made a masterly sketch of a drag-hunt tended to the
for the morrow, which went through the Notlces-
very heart, or touched every farm in the round-robin.
That afternoon he scorned all disguise. Once only he
drew rein, and once more the oppressor bearded the
oppressed. " Why" do I come here ?" he said ; " I
come here, sir, on purpose to be pidled up and then
he poured it out just like a leading article. " The
time had now arrived when farther concession became
impossible, and forbearance a crime. If you begin, I'll
begin. I've got all your signatures. You don't knoiv
what you've signed. I do. I've had counsel's opinion
071 it. That's why I ivasn't here yesterday ; Tve beefi
to 7ny solicitors with that paper. I'll indict you all for
corispiracy." And so saying he magnificently rode
away, and he had rest from notices for nearly half a
season.
• Then the commissioners set at him, His Graceful
and he was charged for a whole pack. Manners with
For once his spirits gave way, as he knew the Tax Com-
the chairman to be a man of wrath and misslonen:"
endless notices, and that he and Splendour had not
288
Scott and Sebright.
o
spared him. In fact Bill had never been off his place,
and kept him, rushing wildly forth into his flower
garden, in an attitude of protest, and once in his
dressing-gown only and his slippers. It may be that
those were nose or moustache days, but at all events
he did not recognise him till the case was called on.
Then a flood of light gradually broke on him.
" William Beau" he said, as he put his nose down on
the paper. " What's your business ? about dogs, I see ;
Ah! hounds! Oh! stags.— Why! you're the man
who's always over my place. I've sent you several
notices, I think!' One of the other commissioners,
who wasn't altogether guiltless, and who keenly en-
joyed the fun, winked at Bill, as much as to say,
" Now, Master William, he's regularly twigged you
and then folded his arms and placed his eyes on the
ceiling to hear the end. " I admit it, sir ; I admit it
said the crafty culprit, in his most unctuous tones;
" but really, sir, yours is such a sweet little inviting
spot on the top of that hill, that I don!t wonder at the
deer always making for it'.' Bill scored four by that
slashing hit to leg. The prospect, as the chairman
felt, was certainly very pretty, it was well that his
brother commissioners and the public should hear that
confirmed, and he was mollified as to the first point.
Still justice must have its way. "But Mr. Bean',' he
continued, "you have a pack, I see, and you don't pay
for them!' " A pack, sir',' said Bill, more blandly
i than ever, " I have only five couple. Mine is strictly a
miniature establishment; I have a miniature pack;
everything is in proportion. Would you favour me by
coming to see it ? My benches are only made for five
couple ; they coiddn't hold five and a half; I am at
your service any day, if you will favour me with an in-
spection." And so point No. 2 was got rid of.
Oddly enough, the assessors had overlooked the
" Actccon Nimrod" &c., and only rested the third part
of their case on the name not being behind as well as
Stag; Drag, and Flag.
2B9
on the off-side of the deer-cart; but Bill had quite
got their , range by this time. He accordingly went
for the in-fighting, and involved them in such learned
discussions upon stick-doors to admit air, a " thing
absolutely necessary for air in the heated state of an
animal's blood" might have difficulties with the
Society for the Suppression of Cruelty to Animals
" the impossibility of painting a letter on each stick
that they gave him up as a bad job, and all the points
as well. He returned gracefully to his friends and
retainers, and he and Splendour trespassed worse than
ever.
In 1833, Wiltshire had its first steeple- jem Hills'
chase, and Jem Hills won it. It had its Steeple-chase,
origin in a match which Mr. Horrocks made with
Lord Ducie after dinner at Mr. Thomas Goodlake's,
to match himself on one of his own horses against the
whole of his lordship's stud, one to the post, and Jem,
who was then the Vale of White Horse huntsman, to
ride. There was to be no mistake about it, and the
conditions specified that it was to be " four miles
straight ahead, neither to ride more than 100 yards
along a road, every gate to be locked, and no fences
cut." Mr. Robert Codrington picked the ground from
Tadpole Copse to Lyssal Hill, near Eyworth, all over
the Water Eaton Vale, with bulfinches, gates, and two
brooks to boot. The only guide-posts were a flag in
the Cold Harbour Road, and another on Lyssal Hill,
and they were to get to them as they could. The
adventurous pair met in scarlet coats and caps at
Cold Harbour, Jem with five horses, and a goodly
allowance of shot to make up the thirteen stone. As
soon as they had been taken up to the top of the brow,
and learnt the line, Jem knew that it was the "old
chestnut mare's" day. The history of that steeple-
chase is one of Jem's finest bits of recitative; and we
heard it to peculiar advantage, when he was warmed
to his work by the deep sympathy he had just re-
U
290
Scoit and Sebright,
ceived from the party on the grubbing up of Lyne-
ham Gorse. Sometimes in his energy he fairly
walked away from our pencil.
The start " The-first fence," he always begins,
" was a double post and rails. We both
stood and looked at it. You see I wanted to find out
whether he'd take his own line or follow me. I said,
' This wont do. Come, yon have it first! He said,
' No ! if you cant have it, I cant! We might have
been there all day, so I turned the old mare's head
and popped in and popped out. He followed, and
came over very prettily. The next was a great
bulfinch, with a ditch ; we got over that. I said,
' Mind your next fence, we must both fair (we chatted
all the way). It was a stiff fence—post and rail—
hedge and bank to clear. When we were coming to
it, he said, ' Don't let us kill one another, Jem; I
wont ride on you if you wont ride on me! I said,
' Give me plenty of room, and give him pepper! My
mare cleared twenty-nine feet, and his horse twenty-
nine and a half. We sent them at it with such a
swing, I never saw a man so high in the air before. I
looked round and saw his horse's shoes glittering the
height of my shoulder. Then came the gate into the
Cold Harbour road. I said, ' Mr. Horrocks, which
of us shall have it first f he said ' You do', and we
went over it side by side, our boots almost touched.
Same way through the bulfinch out of the lane, like a
bullet.
The Plot " Then we had some very small en-
Thickens. closures with very big fences; what I
call creepers ; my old mare, she could go the same
pace all the way; the country was tremendously
deep. When I found that he intended to wait on me,
I knew how to deal with him. Then we came into a
dirty lane, with a tremendous fence towards us. I
tried the old mare at it; it knocked her backwards
into the ditch, but without getting a fall; she re-
Stagy Drag, and Flag. 291
cBvered herself. I said, ' Now Mr.- Horrocks, you
have a try.' We were very friendly all the way. He
said, ' No, Jem, if your old mare can't bore a hole, my
horse can't! So I put her at it; I couldn't help
myself; and I got through. Well, he attempted, and
his horse floundered, and he nearly got off, and there
he hung. I looked back for my companion, when I'd
got half a fkld ahead, and when I saw him in his
saddle, and coming full tilt, I eased my mare. We
had two miles to go then. It was up rising ground, I
k^bt pulling, and he kept pressing till he caught me,
bulfinches all the way not so big, we got very well
over them, and came to a barn.
"Then there was a very large field down T . n.
>1 1■ . 1 1 t 1 t-x • 1 11 1 The Last Brook.
to the last brook. Lord Ducie and all the
gentlemen were there. I was a hundred yards ahead
when I passed the barn. I knew devilish well that
neither of our horses could jump the brook (you know
they always laugh at me about the brooks). The
gentlemen kept hollering at him, ' Now Horrocks,
co7ne along, Jems beatand he came down past me
at the brook, as fast as his horse could go. Believe
me, the horse jumped right into the brook, pitched
upon his head, and turned with his rump on to the other
side, and there he lay. I rode quietly down to the
brook ; Lord Ducie was there on a fresh horse. He
said, ' Jem, Jem ! jump it, the mare will bring you
over, I'll give you a lead! and over he went and jumped
it beautifully. I pulled up and sat looking at Mr.
Horrocks in the brook. It was quite a study. He
was standing on the bank, and the bridle came off;
he fell backwards bridle and all, and the horse went
sideways. Lord Ducie was at me all the time, ' Come,
come, Jem ! he'll get out! I said, ' No, no, my lord!
There's plenty of time! Then I saw a ditch, which
led from the brook into the field at the opposite side.
I stood as long as I could to let the mare get her
wind; the pace had been strong all the way. When
292
Scott and Sebright.
I thought she'd had sufficient time, I let her down
very quietly, and waded her across the brook, to go
up this ditch. She made a plunge or two, and I went
up it twenty yards, and into the field. I had still
three fences to jump, and a gate at the finish. My
mare was so beat, I scrambled her on to them, and
then we scrambled out. The gate was locked, so I
crammed her round the gate-post between the gate
and the hedge. She was just like my old horse
Bendigo, jump anywhere, where he can get his head.
So I got to the winning-post, and into the farm-house,
and had a glass of brandy and water before he was out
of the brook. It was the only steeple-chase I ever
rode. I was to have ridden another the next week at
Cheltenham, only the horse broke down, and very
glad I was, I never care to ride another." Such is the
defendant's account of the great Wiltshire case of
Horrocks v. Hills.
First steeple- The first steeple-chase was run off
chase in Lei- in Leicestershire about the year 1792.
cestershire. distance was eight miles, from
Barkby Holt to the Coplow and back, and Mr.
Charles Meynell, son of the great M. F. H., won it;
Lord Forester was second, and Sir Gilbert Heathcote
last. There is very little oral tradition respecting it,
except that Sir Gilbert's horse was rather fat, that
Lord Forester was the favourite, and that Mr. Need-
ham of Hungerton said to his lordship, " I'll save you
a hundred yards, if you'll come through my garden,
and jump the gate into the road."
A „ , From Noseley Wood to the Coplow,
apam ec er. ^ country on March 12th,
1829, when Clinker's bridle came off, to Tom Hey-
cock's great discomfiture, in a fall at the second fence
from home, and Field Nicholson won on Sir Harry
Goodricke's Magic. Capt. Becher (who made one of
the lot on Bantam) was entered to harriers in his native
Norfolk, as a copper-bottomed infant, on a pony
CAPTAIN BECHER.
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 295
which 110 other boy could hold. A better berth than
the saddle was soon found for him in the Storekeeper's
General Department, and at sixteen, he was one of
the staff in charge of the field equipments to the
Peninsula, and spent two or three years with the
army of occupation. Ramsgate was his first scene of
action after the peace, and his horse-flesh yearnings
had the fullest scope in landing the troopers and
mules, which " Champagne Tommy," of Pimlico, had
furnished by contract, and making them swim ashore
with" the guy-ropes.
To use his own words, he "never had The Palmy Days
such a lark in my life," and when steeple- of St-Albans-
chases and hurdle-racing became all the fashion,
under the auspices of Tommy Coleman, of St. Albans,!
he entered on such an amphibious existence for nine
or ten seasons, that quiet householders who read of
him almost weekly for six months of the year, began
to have grave doubts whether he was an otter or a
man. Tommy gave him a mount in the first hurdle
race, which was got up specially to please the ladies,
when races were established at No Man's Land.
George IV., although within six weeks of his death,
took such an interest in their success, that he requested
Mr. Delme Radcliffe to enter the Colonel and Hindo-
stan, and beat Tommy's mare Bunter by a head, for
the Gold Cup. Figurante was as simple as a young
turkey in hurdle matters, and Becher's orders were to
get her between two others, so that she would find the
hurdles (which had no stakes, and were separately
fixed), "the easiest place to get away." Under this
pilotage she jumped in such style that Lord Verulam
told her owner " That's a deep fellow you've got on
your mare ; her feet were higher than our carriage
when she went over." The first St. First St. Albans
Albans steeple-chase came off in that steeple-chase,
spring of '30. Sixteen started from Arlington church
to the Obelisk in Wrest Park, near Silsoe ; and Cole-
296
Scott and, Sebright.
man so managed the line, that he could start them,
and then by making a short cut, judge them as well.
Lord Ranelagh's grey horse Little Wonder, with
Colonel Macdowell up, won the stake, which was
worth about 300 sovereigns. The Colonel's orders
were to watch nothing but Lord Clanricarde, who was
on a little Irish chestnut; and one of the Berkeleys
was third. The rest found their way into the Park
from all quarters; with the exception of poor Mr."
Stretfield 011 Teddy the Tiler, who had a fall in
jumping a gate back on to a bridge after he had
missed his line, and died in consequence. Coleman's
general idea of a steeple-chase was two miles out and
two miles in, and " keeping the line quite dark."
Hence he concealed men in the ditches, with flags,
which they raised on a given signal, as soon as the
riders were ready. Other managers liked four mile
straight, and after erecting scaffold poles, with a
couple of sheets to finish between, they left the riders
to hunt the country for their line, with no further
directions than " leave that church on your right, and
the clump on your left, and get to the hill beyond."
Tommy Cole- The March of '31 saw the St. Albans
man's Voiun- Steeple-chase in real form ; and the car-
teers. riages and horsemen poured in so reso-
lutely for hours, that there was a regular block on
the outskirts of the town, till Tommy gave the word.
The horses came a week before, to train in Gorham-
bury Park, and other places about, and Moonraker
created great excitement among the inhabitants, by
jumping the Holloway lane in the course of an ex-
, ercise canter. Beardsworth of Birming-
oonra e' ham, had bought him out of a water-
cart, and sold him, with his sinews quite callosed from
work, for 18/. to Sirdefield, who borrowed the crimson
St. Leger jacket of the previous year for Mr. Parker
to ride him in. The bay was fully seventeen at the
time, not fifteen three, and with quarters as good as his
Stag, Drag, and Flag.
29 7
head was ugly. Coleman in his blue coat and kersey
breeches proclaimed martial law among the riders that
day. They saddled at his bugle-call in the paddock
of his Turf Inn (then called The Chequers), came out
of the yard three abreast, like cavalry, and marched
up the town behind. If their general caught any of
them peeping over the hedges, he was down on them
at once, and declared that for a repetition of the
offence, he would sentence the culprits to " run as a
dead letter." Mr. Delme Radcliffe was judge, and Bill
Bean on Chunee rode with them, as umpire, and had
a fall at a brook. The line began on the St. Albans
side of Coombe Wood, leaving Haddons on the left,
and Colney on the right ; but it was not nearly so
formidable as the Aylesbury or Market Harboro' line,
and the finish was between two trees in Coleman's
Paddock. Moonraker beat eleven cleverly, and
Wild Boar, with Captain Becher on him, fell close
at home, and was bled so severely that he died next
day.
The Captain had very nearly a share A Fierce
in further bloodshed. A London lawyer Lawyer,
claimed his bed after he had retired to rest, in a
double-bedded room with his father, and as he
stoutly refused to evacuate, the other thrust his card
under the door, and announced himself through the
keyhole as ripe and ready for the coffee and pistol
business next morning. However, Coleman reasoned
with him, and informed him, in such strict confidence,
that the Captain had shot three men already, that
discretion and economy proved the best part of his
valour, and he disappeared so mysteriously from his
sofa in the course of the night, that Coleman " hunted
the country" in vain for his bill. Jack Elmore, who
made an admirable chairman, had, as Lord Palmer-
ston observes, a similar "invitation." He settled
it very summarily, by saying that he knew nothing
about cards and pistols, but he understood punches
298 Scott and Sebright.
on the head ; so it too fell to the ground, and as he
had already put one man bodily out of a window of
that very inn, it was perhaps well for society that
it did.
"TheSquire" Twenty came to the post the next
as steward, year, and Moonraker, with Seffert on
him, disposed of them once more. He and Corinthian
Kate jumped the last fence together, and Grimaldi,
who came in a different direction to avoid it, closed
in with them at that point. Mr. Osbaldeston was
umpire, and after lecturing them all in his raciest
style, led the way on horseback to Ellenbrook Green.
The troop would have been almost too much for
Coleman that day, and he might well say, " Do face
them for me, Squire ; hold up your head like a Colonel,
and be very decisiveand indeed he was.
Grimaldi v. "The Squire" was so dissatisfied with
Moonraker. Grimaldi's defeat, that he offered Elmore
50/. to make a five hundred match between the two,
over his own farm near Harrow. The referees, accord-
ing to the custom in those days, carried the stakes in
bank notes sewn up in their pockets, and Elmore
gave a capital spread to the Marquis of Abercorn,
Colonel Anson, and several others at his farm. " The
Squire" had a very slight opinion of Seffert as a rider,
and requested to have " a bulfinch to begin with, that
I may shake this fellow offand when some friend told
him that he himself was in a flurry, he poured out a
glass brimful of sherry, and held it out as steady as a
rock at arm's length, to reassure his backers. There
was only one thing, he said, which he did fear, and
that was being " ridden against by those London
dealers." However, the only clashing was between
him and Moonraker, but Colonel Anson ruled in his
favour ; and the course, which was a very light one,
and without brooks, suited his fast grey exactly.
Water was the grey's great bane, and in a race from
Brixworth to Cottesbrook Cow Pastures, in 1833, the
Stag, Drag, and Flag: 299
two brooks quite brought him to grief, and the men
had to get into one of them and hold up his head,
Nothing daunted by this disaster, Grimaidi and
"The Squire" determined to go on Napoleon,
with his thousand a side match against Colonel
Charritie's Napoleon, a slow half-bred horse, but
a magnificent jumper. In the St. Albans Steeple-
chase, Napoleon had been nowhere to him ; but now
there were two brooks and the Lem to be got over.
The first two miles of the six was on a curve, and the
last four straight; and the line was chosen from The
Wharf to Gibraltar Farm, with the Windmill as the
great landmark. The Pytcheley, of which " The
Squire" was then master, met at Dunchurch, and a
perfect regiment of scarlets lined the Lem side, which
was the thirty-eighth jump, and six from the finish.
Said "The Squire" to the Captain before the race
(for it was especially stipulated that they were not to
address each other while running)—" I dorit like
zvater, I can't swim like you;" and when they did
charge it, they both went- in headlong. It was
thought that Napoleon would come up no more; but
at last Becher's cap was seen, and then his horse's
ears, and the pair floated a hundred yards down
stream, the bay " fighting like a bad swimming dog."
Napoleon got a hundred yards the best of it on land-
ing ; but he was fairly overhauled and beaten, and
then a tremendous wrangle commenced. An envoy
was sent back to see if The Squire had gone on the
right side of a flag, before they would let them weigh
in the granary, and Becher was so cold after his bath,
that he told them they might send another man to
look up the coroner. Eventually the stakes were
withdrawn, and after being rubbed down and dressed,
both of them went out hunting, and had the Lem
again.
Bill Bean, who rode two dozen steeple- . 0
, , ' , y . Viviana.
chases, and won seventeen, was on Gn-
3°°
Scott and Sebright.
maldi in the first Aylesbury race the next November
.year. The bold Field Nicholson was there, but so
was Becher on Vivian, with both his wrists bandaged.
He fell over a gate, and got ducked in a river ; but
got first past the winning flags notwithstanding.
This grandson of Swordsman was great in the Vale,
and as Becher said, he seemed to " gallop open-
mouthed over the doubles." Hence he was a most
dangerous horse if he made a mistake, but he very
seldom did. The present Lord Vivian bought him
for 30/. from Dycer of Dublin, who had selected him
at one of his Repository sales for the Hon. Colonel
Westenra, M.F.H., by whom he was, we believe, re-
turned, as unfit to carry his men with hounds. He
had been previously in harness, but he didn't enjoy
leather, and had kicked a most respectable family out
of an Irish car. Lord Vivian rode him for one season
and part of another, and made him a perfect fencer.
He was so fond of his new business that after giving
his lordship a fall early in his first season, he got
away, and went to the end of a brilliant run by him-
self, and was one of the few, if not the only horse,
which reached Charlton Park with the hounds.
In consequence of illness, his lordship gave up
hunting for a time, and sold Vivian to a clerical friend,
who resold him to Captain Lamb. The Captain
thought so lightly of his purchase, that shortly after-
wards, when Lord Vivian had gone to Leamington
for his health, he pressed the horse on him at 130/.,
the same price that his lordship had got for him ; and
the bargain only went off, because the latter declined
to consent to his starting for the Debdale Stakes at
Warwick. Soon after that Captain Lamb discovered
the full truth of what Lord Vivian had told him, that
the bay was one of the best weight-carrying hunters
ever bred, and began to profit accordingly. His
future " orange cap and purple" ally had never seen
him before Mr. Osbaldeston challenged all the world
Stag, Drag, and Flag.
301
with Cannon-ball ; and he came in fact from Market'
Harbro' expressly to ride Vanguard. At the eleventh
hour, the owner's own son decided to take the mount,
and Becher was put on Vivian. The horse's coat
was very long, and as Captain Lamb concluded that
Becher had brought his own saddle with him,
he was not provided with one, and there was a
regular borrowing of a leather here, and a stirrup
there, 011 the ground, to get one fitted up of the exact
weight. The finish was up a tremendous hill, on
which the gentlemen of three hunts assembled five
hundred scarlets strong, and Becher by jumping a
very great fence came up the ascent on the slant,
and contrived to keep more in his horse to finish
with.
A month after he had won at Aylesbury, Vivian Cock
Becher found himself once more putting Robin,
his saddle on Vivian, to meet " The Marquis" and
Cock Robin from Shankton Holt to the Rams Head
cover. Cock Robin and Monarch were two of the
best hunters that ever drew breath in Ireland ; and
the defeated hero of this day, a smart brown, fenced
so well and went so fast, that he got nearly three
hundred yards in advance. For once in his life The
Marquis, who was always in a hurry, was suddenly
seized with a prudence fit, and in trying to avoid two
tremendous jumps, which Becher was obliged to
have, he got stuck in a dingle. The Captain saw his
difficulty, and following some wheel ruts to the left,
closed with him against the hill at the finish, which
is quite as steep as " The Primrose." The Marquis
always stood in fifty with The Captain, one to win,
and was as good as a small annuity to him, as while
the arrangement lasted, the former had only once the
pull of him. On this occasion his lordship was rather
wrath about his defeat, and said that he was " beat by
the best horse so Becher offered to run him back
again and change the horses, feeling sure that Vivian
302
Scott and Sebright.
would disagree with him before they had gone over
four fields.
Fun in The February found The Vale in its glory,
Vale- and there were two races, one for the
Light and one for the Heavies, the first of which was
set for half-past nine. Bill Bean was on Rochelle,
but he made too close a shave of it between two trees,
and was knocked out of his saddle, and " left sitting."
They were close at home at the time, and Bill believes
that, but for his accident, which partially lamed one
leg for life, he could not have lost. He had not been
over the ground like the other riders, and not knowing
the exact course of the river, had to jump it, and a
gate on a bridge as well. Powell on Saladin got the
better of Vivian this time, and the Marquis on his
Yellow Dwarf, who looked exactly like a dun coach-
horse, just beat Mason on Grimaldi for the third place.
Powell did not win the light race on Lauristina, though
he distinguished himself quite as much by jumping
over a treble, consisting of Grimaldi, Seffert, and the
fence; but the grey got up in time to be second to
Vivian. It was a great day, and Mr. Davis, who gave
the starting signal, brought out the staghounds as
soon as the chases were over, and uncarted one of his
flying haviers.
Latter Days and Early in the ensuing year, Becher was
Death of Gri- again on the snaffle-mouthed Grimaldi,
maidi. among the brooks near Waltham Abbey.
This time he was more unfortunate than usual, as he
threw his rider on to some stubbs on his stomach, and
destroyed his powers of articulate speech for hours,
but still he contrived to steal to them and catch them
at the last fence.
The March of '36 witnessed the death of this
memorable grey at St. Albans. He had hurt his back
and kidneys in a grip at Uxendon a few days before,
and Becher thought that he was dull, although he
jumped as steadily as ever. Three hundred yards of
Stag, Drag, and Flag.
303
deep meadow finished him, and he was scarcely past
the post before he reared and died. How he got
through his work was a marvel, as his kidneys were
proved on a post mortem to be one mass of congealed
blood. He was a perfect fencer, and if there was a
bit of sound ground he never missed it, but to the
last he would never do more or less than walk into
water, and all that the facetious Bill Bean could sug-
gest as a cure was to " water him well before he started."
" The Marquis," Lord Clanricarde, Fiacrow and the
Lord Macdonald, Sir David Baird, and Leamington,
the Hon. Mr. Villiers were all in " the Leamington "
of that year. Mr. Coke would not ride Fiacrow,
" because I should be beaten long before the horse,"
and Tom Hey cock, who was his deputy, was rewarded
with a golden shield for his side-board. Vivian with
ylbs. extra " went as if his head was on fire," to the
lane before the last field, where he fell over a faggot,
which had been kicked out of the hedge, and could
scarcely rise at the last fence. Fiacrow had gone like
a stumped-up horse when he came out of the stable,
but he soon got his legs at liberty, and Tom was
cheered by the Marquis, when he caught him and
passed him in the lane. "Who is Heycockf said
some Warwickshire men to Captain White. " Who is
he ?" replied the Captain, "Lord Heycock of Oivston,
to be sure; a very old titled
In the same spring, Vivian literally Lottery's
walked over at Worcester, where every- Beginnings,
thing else fell, and as the walk-over included a flight
of five feet rails done with hoop-iron, and a ditch of
four or five yards on the other side, it is a mercy that
he ever landed on to the Pitchcroft meadows at all.
His new rival, Lottery, appeared at the end of this
season at Barnet with young Henry Elmore on him,
and one of the strange, towering jumps at a road in
which he then indulged, brought him over with a
complete somersault.
3°4
Scott and Sebright.
Fun in the Mid- St. Albans closed its career soon after
iands. this, as the crowds were very unmanage-
able, and farmers began to be rusty about lending
their ground. To its last celebration but one, Prince
Paul Esterhazy gave a ioo-guinea cup, in order that
he might see one more steeple-chase before he left
England. His Highness and Coleman had it all over
again when they met -at the Hampton Court Pad-
docks' last year, and there was the Prince at 74 and
" as fond of riding and horses" as when he summoned
Mr. Anderson to present him with the cup, which his
Splendour had won. Although the tap-root was dead
at last, the sport blossomed everywhere in the Mid-
lands, and there was a match or two per week in the
Harrow country. Vivian carried a load of penalties,
and had Jerry and Cock Robin behind him at Dun-
church, but he could only contrive to repeat his
second at Leamington, where he divided Jerry and
Flacrow. Jerry was a tremendous horse for a severe
race, but with his I2lbs. penalty he was only second
to Conrad soon after at Northampton, which furnished
a line of the biggest fences and brooks that living
man had ever ridden over, in the country about
Wootton Hill. Milton Brook was unusually swollen,
and Mr. Payne lost a bet of 100/. to half a sovereign,
that all the horses did not get over, and only one
of them fell on landing. The Marquis had got
another of his tremendous leads on Yellow Dwarf,
but the shoemakers fairly blocked him in at one of
the brooks, and he had to pull his horse into a trot.
It was not done ill-temperedly on this occasion, but
it was a common trick of the mob to dictate the line
by " the pressure from without," and they always set
their faces most decidedly against skirting, if there
was a good stiff place which they wished to see
negotiated.
Vivian v. Nothing more was heard of St. Albans
Lottery. after the December of this year, and
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 305
Midnight appropriately closed the scene. Her pros-
pects were, however, completely obscured when her
rider went to scale, as he could not draw his weight
to half a pound. It was objected that the cart
swayed about during the operation, but Bob Barker
was not allowed to descend, and was solemnly carted
in procession to Coleman's, only to try his weight
once more with equal ill success. Mr. Anderson got
the stakes, with Performer, and Lottery very much
out of form, and ridden for the first time by the re-
nowned Jem Mason, was third. Six weeks after
" Elmore's horse" beat a good field at Barnet, and
then Mason jumped a flight of bullock rails extra
with him on their route to the weighing place. The
McDonoughs and Oliver came out about this time ;
Cannon-ball, Charity, and Railroad were heard of in
the West, and The Nun began to be a familiar word
in Warwickshire. Lottery had not quite come to his
form, and Vivian was not quite done with, and
for the last time the great rivals met in April, 1838,
from Drayton Grange to Flecknoe, and the one very
big fence settled the question in favour of the junior.
Liverpool began its Great National Beginning of
in earnest the next year, and when True the Liverpool
Blue and Bob Barker had done Charity Grand NationaL
over the hurdles, both of them with Lottery, Seventy-
Four, three of " Harkaway Ferguson's," Railroad,
Cannon-ball, and The Nun were among the seventeen
which answered the saddling-bell. Becher was on
Conrad, and went first to get him to settle down, up
to what was then a fence with double rails, and a
large ditch dammed up on the off-side. The horse
made a mistake and hit the rails, and in a second the
gallant Captain had " formed to receive cavalry" by
crouching under the bank. As for his charger he got
back on the wrong side, and he lost him, and the
place, although sadly degenerated, is called Becher's
brook unto this day.
x
3°6
Scott and Sebright.
Leicestershire
The Whissendine was the last jump
to wit. that spring in the steeple-chase, which
marked Lord Suffield's mastership of the Quorn.
Mr. Villiers was first on Gipsy, and as the last horse
had to pay the second horse's stake, there was a fine
rear finish between Sir David Baird and Lord Cran-
stoun. Lord Desart was not satisfied at being behind
Lord Waterford and his 6oo-guinea Sea, and attri-
buted it entirely to his fall; but a match of 100
sovereigns from Shankton Holt to Ram's Head, that
favourite old battle ground of Leicestershire, con-
firmed the first event.
Lottery's Zenith The Nun held her own pretty well in
and Finish. Midlands, Lottery bullied everything
when he had the chance; and when Gaylad did the
same, and no penalties seemed to stop them, the
handicap era gradually loomed. Lottery began as
Chance, and was licked into fits by Fop in a mile and
a half trial; and then he was a performer at Jack-
son's Grounds, where The Mite and Columbine were
heads and tails with him. He was a very peculiarly-
made.horse, short in his quarters, deep in his girth,
but light in his middle and back ribs ; with a perfect
snaffle-bridle mouth, fine speed, and a very " trap to
follow." When others could hardly rise at their
fences, he seemed to jump as if from a spring-board.
His jumping muscles were first brought into such
high play by putting him in a ring, with flights of
rails round it, and a man in the middle to keep him
moving, and he perfected his jumping education with
Mr. Anderson's stag-hounds. After his mistake at
the Liverpool wall, he refused the first fence, a post
and rails, five times at Fakenham; he showed his
finest speed soon after that, when he caught Seventy-
Four on the post at Leamington, and he was
scratched along with Jerry, Seventy-Four and Peter
Simple in the 100 sov. 25 forfeit steeple-chase,
which was made up at Horncastle Fair, and which
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 307
fell to Mr. Anderson's lot with his blood-like Cigar.
When Peter Simple and Gaylad came out from Lin-
colnshire, his reverses began. He was third to Peter
at Boston, and was leading at Chelmsford when he
came down in a ploughed field, and left Gaylad, who
had I4lbs. extra like himself, to win it. Fit or not fit,
Mr. Elmore would have him out, despite all that
George Dockeray could say; and it was owing to this
determination that he was enabled to pay off Gaylad
soon after at Newport Pagnell. Later in the year he
was beaten a length in this country by Lucks' All,
who was ridden in most daring style by Tom Goddard.
He was giving away 29lbs., and the meadows were so
flooded that no one exactly knew where the brooks
began and ended, and five out of the twenty were all
swimming together.
^ From '35 to'49, the Brocklesby men Establishment of
did the legitimate thing, and never Brockiesby Hunt
" drooped and turned aside " either for SteePle-chases-
a fence or a handicap. Their annual steeple-chase
was for maiden horses, open to all England, and a
victory or a good performance added so much to the
value of their young horses, that they fetched very
high prices at Horncastle. The Brockiesby Hunt
Union Club was formed at Caistor in the November
of the first named year, and it got under way very
shortly at Rigby Slingsmere.
Tom Brooks of Croxby was its president, William
Richardson and William Torr its secretary and trea-
surer ; and old Will Smith blew his horn, as the
starting signal. Lionel Holmes won the first race on'
a mare of Mr. Plargreaves's, and was so determined
to lose no time after a fall, that he got on to her
back when she was rising, and so to work once more.
'Flying Billy fell at the last fence but one, and lived
to run for the Doncaster Cup against Touchstone,
who beat him with nearly two distances in hand, to
the infinite astonishment of " The Squire of Limber."
X 2
3°8
Scott and Sebright.
In '36, the course was paralled to Barton Street, and
Cannon-ball the winner jumped a sheep-fold in a
corner as his last fence but one. A lot of men were
sitting there to see the finish, and they " dropped
like rooks off a rail" when they found him thun-
dering among them. Captain Becher had a mount,
and fell clean out of Laceby into Aylesby Lordship,
but some one lent him a fresh horse, and he got
close up with the leaders again, and sung a tremen-
dous song about Grimaldi that night, and " the stile
at the top of the hill." " I'd stay longer, gentlemen,"
he said in conclusion, " but a mount on Vivian is too
good a thing to give away," and to Egham he
departed forthwith. The Old Granby at Grimsby
had a still more roystering party the next year, and
George Skipworth was duly congratulated on coming
all his length into the winning field, and being first
after all.
Valentine an old grey, which had been lame and
drawn a harvest waggon, had to thank Loft's steady
riding for his win in '38, against a field of twenty-one;
and Gaylad was nowhere to Ormsby the next year,
and Peter Simple second. Better luck attended
Gaylad the second time, but Peter Simple had a mis-
chance some distance from home. As the maiden
clause had been abolished ere this, Gaylad went in a
third time, but he only won by the quickness of Cap-
tain Skipworth, who saw that the winning-waggon
had been moved, and wheeled his horse round so as
to go on the proper side of the flag. The owner of
Croxby by Velocipede had to refund, and this little
affair cost the fund 140/. One county never sent out
two finer steeple-chase champions than Gaylad and
Peter Simple, but still neither of them could be said
to be of the Lottery mint. Peter, for whom John
Elmore offered seven hundred in vain, was a most
beautiful horse to look at, and when lie " paced he
seemed fit to carry a king." He could go up to his
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 309
knees in dirt; but his mouth was not first-rate, and
he was far too impetuous at his fences. Gaylad, 011
the contrary, was not the horse to catch the eye, and
had a forbidding head, and was rather light through
his brisket. He went fast, and flew his brooks and
fences magnificently, but he was not particularly
clever at timber.
There is nothing connected with '42, BrocMesby
except that Loft's Creeper won, and a Steeple-chases,
cream-coloured colt called Paul Pry was lS42-49-
the first entry in the mortuary tablets of the Club ;
and then for three years the fine, patient riding of
Charles Nainby 111 the scarlet, had its reward on
his own and his father's horses, the clever Crocus,
and the two grey Tommies, Newcastle, and Northal-
lerton. Crocus's was the last race which the second
Earl of Yarboro' attended. His lordship delighted
in seeing the thing done in good orthodox style, and
hence the riders were all solemnly taken by way of
prelude into a deep chalk-pit, to receive their instruc-
tions as to the line. Both the Tommies were sold for
200/. a piece, and but for a storm which prevented
" Northallerton " from crossing the Humber to Bever-
ley fair, he would have been sold for thirty some
months before. In '46, Captain Skipworth did one
of his best things on the hard-pulling Dubious ; Lam-
plough crossed the Humber the next year with Saliva-
tion, and stole the race for the first time out of the
district ; and Mr. Oldaker wound matters up at
twice, first by winning it with his Jenny Lincl (when
Pilot ran third), and lastly by a winning mount on
Rachel. Twenty-two tried their hand against the
bay mare in vain, and then the silk jackets were
laid aside, and for many seasons no red flag
has waved, to show the line to the lads of the
Brocklesby.
The horse world of London could boast during this
time of two men both equally great in their line ; to
Scott and Sebright.
wit, "Old Tilbury" and Jack Elmore, the hunter
dealers. The former lived to nearly eighty, and al-
though he had signed no pledge, and received no.
pewter medal as a signet of his allegiance, there was
not such a rigid teetotaller in the length and breadth
of Her Majesty's dominions. He never got his full
credit in this respect, seeing that the smell of ale or
spirits was quite as exhilarating in its effect upon him,
as if he had been in the Docks, and then he could be
handicaped to give weight to most men in a story. In
later life, he was generally black and all black in his
attire, save and except his white neck-tie; and to the
last his whole talk was of horses.
Mr. Tilbury, The conventional pun upon the first
the Dealer, syllable of the word had peculiar signi-
ficance in his case, as, barring a little water when he
could get nothing else, tea was the only fluid that
ever passed his lips. He was always very neat in
his dress, but short, and of the heavy-sternius build;
and it was this peculiarity which used to call forth
some funny remarks from " The Squire," when they
were going from covert to covert, in those merry days
when the two Georges, equally great in their line,
ruled at Windsor and Quorn.
His Class of He was never much of a rider across
Horses. country, and perhaps not a first-class
judge of a horse. As a general thing he seemed to
go for horses of a certain power and substance, which
would either frame into hunters or machiners, or as
he used to put it, " if there was not one there was the
other." When he first began, he had a little wheel-
weight's shop in Bryanston-street, Edgeware-road,
and let out buggy horses. From this humble spot, he
went on to South-street, the scene of his fine tilbury
trade, and rising at last into all his glory in Mount-
street, began to let out hunters, and took a farm at
Elstree, three miles beyond Edgeware. After that,
he took 200 acres at the Dove House, Pinner, which
Stag, Drag, and Flag. 311
afibrded plenty of exercise and larking ground, of
which his aid-de-camps, Newcome and Jim Mason
(whom Bill Bean claims to have led over his first
flight of park palings), and Jim Payne availed them-
selves to the full. Mat Milton, who was wont to
say, that if he did lose his horse in the hunting-
field, he could always "pay jive or six stout fellows
and run him downf was then at the head of the
crack hunter business in Piccadilly ; but Tilbury's
stud, many of which were purchased from the El-
mores, was never under seventy. He would let them
by the day or the season, and Count Matuschevitz
and Mr. Harvey Combe opened very paying accounts
with him. In fact, many of his sixty-pound horses
would earn their fifty guineas per season, and if any
accident happened, he had always another ready to
send down. They were picketted out everywhere, all
over the Midlands, but principally at Melton and
Northampton ; and he would ride enormous distances,
week after week, looking them up and making ar-
rangements about proxies.
He also did a little in the steeple-chase line with
his Culverthorpe, Prospero, and Tomboy, when
Vivian, Cigar, and Lottery had brought up matters
to a white heat; but he left off on the wrong side,
both in this and his hunter dealing. The latter sadly
dwindled a few years before his death in i860.
Mount-street and a few common stamp horses still
remained, with a small farm at Thatch End, adjoining
the Pinner acres of his more glorious days; but the
younger generation knew him not, and went elsewhere
for their hunters.
On the box it might truly be said of him that—
" Difficulties prove a soul legitimately great."
As a four-in-hand whip he had no par- His Coachman-
ticular pretensions ; but his delight was shiP-
to have two raw young things in a break or a curricle,
312
Scott and Sebright.
and drive them in and out of places and along tho-
roughfares which hardly any coachman, with the most
metallic nerves, would have dared to essay. 11 Such
hands" as a good whip once said to us, " never let them
begin kicking; knew just when to stop them to a yard."
If a young horse would not go on, he would sit as
calm as a Mohawk Chief, biding his time. To take
his tilbury into a field, and turn it neatly over, and
step out of it, without the horse falling, was another
sleight-of-hand diversion with the ribbons to which he
was peculiarly partial. He had all the quiet manner
of the old school, and was very full of anecdotes,
which of course grew on as his life-shadows length-
ened, till one or two of them became perfect sea-
serpents. To the last he was faithful to the one
The Two French- about the two foreigners who hired
men and the horses from him to meet Her Majesty's
Three Pigeons. a1; « Magpies" on Hounslow
Heath. Their horses were so beaten when they left
off near Red Hill, that they were obliged to leave
them and get a post-chaise. Then came the difficulty,
which Mr. Tilbury told with appropriate action and
streaming eyes. They had forgotten the name of
the inn where they had left their hacks, and they only
knew that it had to do with a bird. " Drive us to the
Pigonsf they said, " de birds of colour; you do khoiv
—de black and white Pigojisj till they had utterly
bewildered and exasperated their postboy, and were
only helped out of the dilemma by a friendly scarlet.
tipfi nrpq William Elmore, the father of the
1 m ' three brothers' George, John, and Adam,
settled in Hampshire, and came up to town only once
a week latterly. He was a very big man, so much so
that he used to tell a story of a countryman, who
could not be persuaded to tell him and his fat friend
which way the hounds had gone. " You doiilt want
the hounds," he said, forking the dung into his cart all
the time, with the most provoking coolness, "yoiid
Stag] Drag, and Flag.
313
better both send yonr gnts on by the waggon afore yon
go after than! Upon the subject of dressing, he
was particular and - sensitive, and equally so upon
having a beefsteak pudding always ready for him
011 his return from hunting. Once when he did not
appear till twelve o'clock, it had been disposed of in
the household supper, but his peremptory orders
from that day forth were, to this effect, " If Fm
away for a week, never take the padding out of
the pot!"
Iiis-son John was like him, rather a The Eimoves as
boil vivant, and inherited many more of Hunter DeaL-rs.
his ways. George, the elder brother, and the master
of the concern, was a quiet "man, and hated steeple-
chasing, but left his brothers to do pretty much as
they liked. He simply saitl that the more they
spent, the less there would be for them at his death.
John was a better driver, but not such a good rider
as Adam, who had wonderfully fine " show hands,"
and an imposing figure on a horse. Still he was not
equal as a salesman to his brother, but quite the best
buyer, so that their special talents blended exactly,
and for many years they had quite a first-class
business. Their head man, Old John Haynes, with
his bent leg and top-boots, went hopping about to all
the country fairs, and knew every likely farmer and
breeder in the Midlands. He also took Worcester-
shire and Shropshire in his rounds, with all the saga-
city of a truffle hunter*; and never seemed to think
that his masters could purchase enough. It was no
argument in his eyes that the cheque-book could stand
no more. In those days before the rail, George
Odell, Catlin, Sam Wilson, and the Drages used to
buy up young horses in Yorkshire, and place them
out with the Northamptonshire and Leicestershire
farmers for a year or two, to be got handy, and it was
on these fives and sixes, that the Elmores pounced at
the Midland county fairs. Now, they are bought in
3T4
Scott and Sebright.
Yorkshire as threes and fours, and railed up at once;
and all the grand middle education is lost. The
firm removed from Duke-street, Manchester-square,
to John-street, Edge ware-road, and after George's
death in 1845, Adam stayed on there, and kept on
the foreign trade, while John exchanged Neasdon
for Uxendon, which he soon fitted up with a steeple-
chase course, and cared very little more about
business.
John Elmore In his heyday, he was fully sixteen
at Home, stone; but a -slow consumption had
gradually worn him down to about nine-stone-eight;
and those friends who remembered so well his once
florid and portly presence, hardly knew him again
towards the close. He once farmed nearly a thou-
sand acres, but latterly he held only one farm of
about half that amount. As a judge of horses, and
steeple-chasers in particular, he had no superior.
A clever pony he dearly loved ; and even the rough,
hairy-heeled ones, which he did his farming on, had
a character peculiarly their own. One of them
would get over a fence, and regularly wait for him
to follow and seize it by the tail, so as to be dragged
up the bank on the "off-side." Like many of the
old school, he was also right fond of a bit of cocking,
and fought many a quiet " in-go" during the London;
season.
John Elmore's He was the best of companions, and
Stones. with some good'story to tell of every
horse or sporting man that could be named. One of
Carlin the steeple-chase jockey especially delighted
him. " Where have you been to ?" he said when that
worthy did not arrive till some minutes after the ruck.
" Been to, Mr. Elmore ?" was the reply; " 1 had a
fall, and a fellow called me an old brick-maker, and
asked me ivhere I was taking all the clay aivay to with
me; so I stopped and had a fight with him, and so
would your Carlin was equally ready to account for
Stag, Drag and Flag. 315
his absence on another occasion. " You told me," said
he, " to leave it all to the horse, and I trusted to his
honour, and he put me down—that's a pretty thing!'
One about Bob ****** pleased him still more.
Bob had sat up too late with his friends, after ordering
himself to be called early next morning, and before
putting him to bed they had amused themselves with
shaving his head. Not being very particular in his
toilet, he never got a view of himself till he came to
breakfast, opposite the pier-glass in" the coffee-room.
He had the presence of mind to grasp the bell-handle
and summon the waiter. " Waiter',' he said, " where's
that fool of a boots ? He's gone and called the bald-
headed old gentleman in the next room ; and he's never
called Bob ****** at all!" This story has been
told in a variety of ways, but Bob was,-we believe, the
great original of it.
It was always "my dear boy," when stag-hound
John Elmore wanted to impress an Diplomacy,
opinion on you; and to disbelieve him seemed
treason. It was said of an eminent manager, that he
had a voice which could lure a bird from a tree ; and,
as a friend of John Elmore's once said to us, "If
John had done me out of ten thousand, I couldrit have
found it in my heart to blame him!' The farmers,
during the time he kept his stag-hounds, would occa-
sionally arrive at the farm, boiling over with a sense
of injury to their crops ; but the interview generally
ended in their stopping'to make an evening of it; and
then assuring him, at parting, that they would take it
as a personal insult if he did not continue to pursue
the very same line of conduct they had come to pro-
test against. He was a great favourite with them,
and was, in fact, almost free to hunt his stags for
miles round Harrow without being harassed with
trespass notices.
" The stag-hounds" were half blood and half fox-
hound, and perfectly indifferent as to whether they
316
Scott and Sebright.
had deer or hare in front of them ; and he took to
them the season after Mr. Anderson gave up his. He
seldom kept more than half-a-dozen, and a brace and
a half of stags ; but they went at it the moment the
hay was off the ground, and would often be seen
tolling along through crops of standing beans. He
was a good horseman, but very excitable in a run ;
and the time to see him go best was when he turned
out his second deer for a lark after luncheon. None
went better with Mr. De Burgh's ; and occasionally he
would have a day with the Queen's, or change to fox
with the Old Surrey and Lord Dacre's, and then
spend a month at a time in Hampshire. His last
hunter was Paddy, a very excellent horse under his
weight, but a great savage in the stable.
Some years ago, when he had quite ceased to take
a fence, he would go wonderfully on his fourteen-hand
ponies, always the very best of their kind, whenever
the Queen's came into the Harrow and Barnet
country, and dash down lanes, however rough, with an
energy which the most inveterate road-professors
could only envy, and not dare to imitate in its in-
tegrity. If any of his horses had a thorn, he didn't
care how big the. leg got; but he sent them hunting,
to make it suppurate and come out.
Nothing pleased him better than to set five or
six of his friends larking as they rode back from
hunting by the side of the road, and to halloo at
them all the way. Those were days when he was
in full health ; but for the last few years one lung
had entirely gone. When he warded his horses
trained, he would invariably put his stable lads on
them in red spencers, and watch them while they
jumped everything before them with hounds; and it
was thus that The British Yeoman "got into a fine
practice."
Larking with Grimaldi, Lottery, Jerry, Gaylad, The
Lottery. Weaver, Sam Wefler, and British Yeo-
Stag, Drag; and Flag. 317
man bore the " blue and black cap," in turn; but
Lottery was the only one he cared to talk much
about. His friends used to laugh at this " Horncastle
horse," who was lamed with larking the day he got
him, but he always said, " You may laugh—you'll see
it come outand well was his patience rewarded.
When the horse had ceased to defy creation with Jem
Mason under thirtcen-stone-seven, if ever a friend went
down for an afternoon, with "Jack" to Uxendon, he
would order him to be saddled. " Hang it !" he
would say, " have you never been 011 the old horse ?—
get up!" and be the ground ever so hard, or the
fences ever so blind, he would insist on their back-
ing him, one after the other, if there were half-a-
dozen of them. He would turn him over anything ;
and occasionally it would be the iron hurdles be-
tween the garden and the paddock, or, for lack of a
handier fence, he would put the rustic garden chairs
together.
He was in his sixty-sixth year when he died ; and
with him and " The Marquis "—the two original
props—professional and amateur—of the steeple-chase
have gone from amongst us. In these poor-spirited
days, when too many owners think " the grass-
hopper a burden" in the shape of iost. /lbs.,
and rope away till they can blind the handicapper
into a stone less, we may well wish for a par-
tide of the spirit which brought the Uxendon and
Curraghmore blues into "the tented field," and
made even St. Albans a place of real spirit and
renown.
*3l8
CHAPTER V.
HORN AND HOUND.
" And Alvanley, too, shall Meltonia forget thee,
Oh ! never while wit and wine have a charm ;
Thou, too, wilt return, blithe as ever we met thee,
And with joke, fun, and glee still old Sorrow disarm ;
And Chesterfield, too, and our honoured De Wilton,
With Plymouth and Stanley shall come in their train;
And the Lord of the Chase and the Monarch of Melton
Shall be Harry of Ribstone—success to his reign i"
Visit to joe "X/'OU should go and see my old friend
Hewitt. joe Hewitt," said an M. F.H. to
us; "I hear he's been giving them a capital lecture on
foxhunting at Mexborough." The advice was too
good to be lost, so away we strode from Doncaster on
a January afternoon, down the short cut through that
hazel cover, under the Conisboro' cliff, past the British
School, whose rafters, on the testimony of the vil-
lagers, had rung again on that memorable night when
Joe found his fox therein, and killed, after a brilliant
burst of five-and-thirty minutes, from " The Platform
Wood," and on to the lecturer's lair. He was full
forty when he went to hunt Sir Jacob Astley's stag-
hounds, in Norfolk, and that was in 1820; but
age had, in i860, told but little on his tall, active
frame. The walls of his snug little home reflect
the triple phases of his hunting life. Two stags'
heads hang in the ante-chamber; Joe himself is on
Paddy, with the Badsworth Watchman, and Ranter,
Cottager, and Glider from Lord Scarborough's at
his side; and a stout man, in a buff waistcoat,
Horn and'Hound.
3*9
with gaiters, and a dog-whip, is neither more nor
less than the Mr. Frank Fawkes of his harrier
days.
It was just 5 to I on Joe in his good Service under
master's mind, and he was butler, groom, Mr. Frank
gamekeeper, valet and huntsman to him. Fawkefe
They had not many horses between them ; but still the
stable cleared 500/. in seven years. Scarlet was the
livery of the hunt, and they used the privilege to the full,
by never whipping off if they crossed the line of a fox.
They gave one such a dusting from Hickleton Spin-
neys, that Lord Darlington expressed a lively belief to
Joe, that "you'll come into my dining-room, at Bilham,
next'.' And Joe did arrive there shortly after. His
lordship had run a fox to ground at Barnboro' Grange,
and asked Joe to dig him out and bring him to Bil-
ham. Late in the evening, Joe was duly announced,
with " Charley" in a sack, and after showing his
prisoner to the Duchess and the family, dismissed him
from the front door to his old head of earths. Colonel
Mellish cared quite as much, if not more, for the
harriers than the Darlington and the Rufford ; and
mounted on the brown Lancaster, he kept the field
alive. And so for seven seasons "Joe" used to make
the hares tender on Mexboro' side, with old Master
Franky's harriers, and " prepare them for the spit by
the inflammatory process of an hour's run, with a ten
minutes burst at the finish."
Two years after this merry little pack joe Stag-hunting
was given up (in consequence of Mr. in Norfolk.
Fawkes's- death in '18) Joe departed to Sir Jacob
Astley's staghounds, with Bill Turpin and Jim Shirley
as his whips, and half the country came to see his first
day. The stag took at once to a creek, and Joe's
jump over it on Paddy, eight yards, and rotten banks
on both sides, "put him right in Norfolk." Still they
never expected to behold him again. He wound his
way over quicksands, where horse and rider had never
320
Scott and Sebright.
ventured before, on the beach between Morston and
Wells, and only just got back with his hounds when
he had seen the deer picked up by a boat, before
the creek filled again. In token of his jump, and his
restoration to them, after their terrible suspense,
the field filled his pockets with silver, till he could
hardly button his coat. Mr. Coke went specially
to see the place, and introduced Joe to the Duke of
Sussex and Sir Francis Burdett at the next Hoik-
ham sheep-shearing, with " There s a fellozu who's done
such a thing as has never been done in this county
before
Fox-hunting in After a couple of seasons Sir Jacob
Norfolk. turned to fox-hunting and did it well for
ten seasons, four days a week. The Burrow Kennels
soon had seventy couple in them, and a hundred and
fifty foxes were got together, in paddocks near Melton
Constable, and kept there for four months. Mr. Coke
was very friendly, and told Sir Jacob to quarter any
quantity he liked on Holkham, so they took him at
his word, and turned down ten brace at his front door.
Still well disposed as the great landlord might be,
they were " taken care of" by some one, and scarcely
two brace were ever hallooed away again.
a New Light on The steward at Gawdy Hall, which is
Fox-hunting. just Qn the Suffolk border, was well dis-
posed; but had only been entered to pheasant and
rabbits. Trusting to his natural instincts, the first
time Sir Jacob met there, he rode furiously down the
road the moment he espied Joe and the hounds, and
called out, " Vou're too late, huntsman. Tve got all my
men together to beat the cover, and we've found such a
beautiful fox" He seemed to feel that he had acted
so prudently, and so strictly with a view to sport, that
as there was no help for it, Joe swallowed his feelings,
and did not care to undeceive him, but simply inquired
the line. It seemed a nice one over grass to a wood,
and there was comfort in the hope that the fox might
Horn and Hound.
321
wait there. Sir Jacob and the officers from the
Norwich barracks did not dwell much at breakfast
after the startling news of that morning, and they
were soon out of the Hall, and into the saddle. Luck
was on their side; one or two hounds feathered, and
spoke to their fox when Joe held them on the line ;
they dressed him for five-and-twenty minutes in the
wood, and ran into him over a fine open country
almost without a check.
Still, even this anecdote of the dark Fox-hunting
ages of Norfolk did not satisfy us. We Lecture,
had come specially to hear the lecture, and as we had
been duly told that he had " a most humoursome
voice in drawing covers," we persevered till the horn
came down. When the lecture did begin, and Joe
was finding and then breaking up his fox, we sat
aghast at the pent-up volume of sound, the perfect
cave of CEolus, whose blasts we had let loose on that
quiet street, and hardly dared to calculate the effect
upon " rurals" and passers-by. Clogs seemed to come
with measured steps as far as the garden-gate, and
then become suddenly spell-bound. Joe's own head
was his manuscript, and always has been, and a mere
skeleton abstract was the only result of our pencil
attempts to follow him.
" If I had a piano," he said, " I could make a devil-
ish good run of it, and give plenty of music to it;
the piano should do the hounds. I begin with a single
hound, then two, and so keep increasing. That's
' The try^ we don't find; then we try another cover.
Yooi in} yoicks ! yoicks ! Push him up ! one hound
speaks. In that case, I should give the piano a single
tap. I should then call, if it was a hound we could
depend upon, Hark ! hark ! to such an one ; if it
still continues, and there's a fox on foot, Hark! hark!
to Watchman ! Hark ! There I want the piano for
the body of the hounds. Hark ! Get together ! Push
hint up ! Hooi ! that puts their mettle up.
Y
322
Scott and Sebright.
" There's a view halloo [and indeed it was one, more
clogs seemed to be arrested in their course, and we
heard voices]—this is just the way, only shorter, that
I gave it them in the British School ; if there's a
view halloo, then comes Gone-away ! Hark forward!
Now, you must begin with the piano, it should make
the hounds ; now I carry a great head. Bless you,*
gentlemen ! Hold hard ! Yoi Gaurt ! Come back /
You see the hard riders have pressed the hounds too
much, and they've overrun the line ; as soon as you
see your dashing hounds taking the lead, and your
best hounds slackening, you may depend on it things
are not all right. El-loo back !
" Now, gentlemen, do hold hard ! You try back, and
generally make it out if well up; Yokes ! there's a
chirrup; now I want the piano; there's another
chirrup ; I want two strokes ; the whole body are
sensible of it. Have at 'em, my little fellows / what's
leading ? I say Hark to Ranter, or such an one;
then the whips and the piano go to work, and I carry
a great head till we kill. We're in a wheatfield now.
Bless you, gentlemen, do keep furrows! Now we
view—that's a Dead, Halloo [and thankful indeed we
were that the whole village did not turn out at the
summons]. I get the fox, and keep him up, hollering
to get stragglers together. Then I told them about
Madcap ; she was keen, she jumped up and got hold
of my ear ; don't you see the mark ? you can feel a
little knob there ; I could have kissed her to see her so
anxious. That's the way the lecture goes on, I can
draw it out any length that's desirable. I gave them
another lecture about my visit to Raby Castle. I saw
the Duke ; his Grace remembered that fox and sack
business at Bilham, though I hadn't seen him for fifty-
two years."
* According to the accounts in the Old Sporting Magazine, a more
courteous huntsman never blew up a horn or a man.
Horn and Hound.
3^3
So much for Mexboro' and its cheery lecturer !
The closing and opening decades of Fox-hunting,
the two centuries found hunting sound to 1790-1810.
the core. Meynell was " King of Quorn." Tom Old-
aker, of " Huntsman's Hall," in his yellow plush coat
almost to his ankles, woke up the beech woods of
Chilton and the wild ridings of Easthamstead, with
the three sharp bugle notes, which told that he had
gone away, and the still more tuneful La Mort. The
lady of Hatfield was first in the field, and last at
the ball. Mr. Coke's hounds hovered between Castle
Hedingham, Holkham, and Epping. The Duke of
Grafton's dwarf pack were busy in Salcey Forest and
the vast Whittlebury woodlands. Dick Knight's cheer
was heard in Sywell Wood, and foxes were dying
an honourable death of old age in Bedford Purlieus,
despite all the talent of Will Dean. Petworth, Woburn,
Brocklesbury, and Belvoir, had each a family pack;
and Cheshire mourned for its Bluecap, to which it
subsequently erected an obelisk. Tom Grant was
getting up and down the hills of Sussex like a flash
on his chamois-footed steeds. Mr. Chute took
everything that was too small for Tom, and kept up
the glories of The Vine, which " The Iron Duke"
nurtured so well in after years, and three times saved
from grief. Lord Stawell was in the Holt Forest
country, and Mr. St. John gradually changed back
from hare to fox. Mr. Poyntz looked upon the killing
of a May fox and a dance round the May-pole, when
the Prince was at Albury Grange, as two vital points
before he returned to Cowdray. The hounds and
Tom Crane were always kept on the right of the line,
whenever the army changed quarters in the Peninsula;
and later still with Burdett, Whitbread, Canning, and
Romilly, as the line-hunters in St. Stephens.
" The sport of all sport was reserved for the day,
When out of a bag they turned Lord Castlereagh."
Y 2
324 Scott and Sebright.
The Late Earl The Earl of Darlington was long the
of Darlington. Nimrod of the North, "with his chin
sticking out, and his cap on one ear." Many of the
old hands still speak of him as always having his
finger in his ear, or his cap in his hand, and consider
that his hunting was conducted on no especial system.
" He was all for riding, and four couple of hounds in
front, and the rest coming as they could, was the
general order of things." The stud, which was headed
by the grey Ralph, whose skin still covers an arm
chair at Raby, was first-rate, and worthy of their
master. His lordship came into the Badsworth
country each spring and autumn for six weeks at a
time, and as he had finished his own cub-hunting
before the autumn visit, his hounds, which had been
well blooded, pulled down the foxes wholesale.
„ . n Squire Draper of Beswick and King's
quire raper. jquntsman for East-Riding, has still a
strong traditional fame in Yorkshire. Foxes were
destroying the lambs to a great extent in 1726 when
he began his operations, and Sir Mark Constable was
one of his chief supporters. He had only 700/. a year
wherewith to keep up his old Hall, and was blessed
with three daughters and eleven sons. Kickshaws he
eschewed, and once a month he killed an ox for roast-
ing and salting. " All the brushes in Christendom"
was his chosen toast, after he had drunk " King and
Constitution," and a leathern girdle round his drab
coat and a rusty velvet cap were his royal insignia of
office. The general effect could not have been im-
pressive, as a tailor who had come over from York to
measure the Miss Drapers for new hunting-habits, did
not guess him at his front-door, and he most rigidly
exacted twopence for holding the horse. On another
occasion when one of the same order came over
equipped for riding, and said that he had left his
horse elsewhere, he insisted on accompanying him
to it, and made him confess at the end of a two or
Horn and Hound. 325
three miles' walk, that his boots and whip were a pious
fraud. He was a little caustic in his humour, and
considered from what he had seen in his visit to the
metropolis that "a Yorkshire haft" could at least
hold its own. The drains of Holderness also suggest
how he declined to assist a sufferer, on the short
ground that he was " a whipper-in, and not a whipper-
out." His daughter Diana, a regular " Di Vernon" in
her way, had a rare voice and eye to hounds, but died
after many perils in her virgin bed, at a good old
age at York, and she is buried with him at Market-
Weighton.
Ash, "the weed of the Wolds," had The Yorkshire
not begun to flourish in the old man's Wolds,
time. Beyond a few solitary elms and beeches, and
an occasional belt of firs, there was hardly a tree to
be seen on his vast hunting grounds of hill, valley,
and morass. Except round the village garths, there
was not a gate between Market-Weighton and Be-
verley. The Wolds were covered with ling, to which
the bee-wives carried their swarms in order to reflect
its perfume and dark colour in the honey ; but there
was not cover enough for ten miles round Sledmere
to hide a goose, much less a travelling fox. The land
was worth two-and-sixpence an acre, and had hard
work to pay that. Barley for future " Haver Cake
Lads" was its only white crop, and big-boned, and
flat-sided black and whites very faintly foreshadowed
the era of the " Driffield Cow," which was almost as
wonderful in its generation as the guinea-hen which
hunted running and flying with the Castle Howard
hounds.
'The title-deeds of the Middleton hunt TheWoid
date back nearly 100 years, - and seven Hunts,
separate masters, and a triumvirate consisting of Earl
Carlisle, Lord Middleton, and Mr. Crompton owned
them till Sir Mark Sykes purchased them from the
first Lord Feversham in 1804, aud hunted them for
326
Scott and Sebright.
two seasons at his own expense. The coats of the
Club had light blue collars with a silver fox, and
" Sykes, Goneazvay /" on the buttons; and Sir Mark
mounted his men on Camilluses and Scrivingtons,
many of his own breeding. The hounds were valued
at 300 guineas, when Mr. Watt and Mr. Digby
Legard formed a second triumvirate with Sir Mark,
and after a Middleton interregnum, Sir Tatton took
them in 1811, and held them with only a two-season
break for two-and-forty years. Old Will Carter and
his son Tom Carter were huntsman and first whip,
and as Mr. Bethel and his successor had given up
Holderness, Sir Tatton's country extended from Cox-
wold to Spurn Point. They always hunted on the
Wednesday in the York country; and Sir Tatton
(who was laying in a hunter stud from four Camillus
mares), used to leave Sledmere in the dark, get on
his hunter at Eddlethorpe, and often ride forty miles
home.
The Sykes Every March and November Sir Tatton
Hounds. went to the Brandsburton Kennels to
work the Holderness side, which he held for four
seasons, till the Holderness Hunt was established,
and Martin Hawke and George Osbaldeston, who
then lived at Hutton Bushell, were the very life
of the Hunt Club at Beverley. The election spirit,
which ran so high in those days, did not penetrate
within the walls of The Tiger. It made no matter to
the Club, that a hare with a blue ribbon and " No
Popery" round its neck was sent to every one of the
plumpers on one side; or that a fair electioneerer;
who had expressed a wish to be a man for a moment,
that she might pull a rubicund opponent's nose, re-
ceived as her answer, " Yon are zvelcome to do so, Mam,
but it will burn your fingers /" The young "Squire"
was fresh from Brasenose, and if some clever cork-
cutters had not lived near the bridge at York, and by
their joint efforts promptly put in his neck after
Horn and HowidJ. 327
a tumble, that greatest and most versatile of all
sporting careers would have been quenched very
early.
A season under Mr. Musters and two „ . ..
o- 1 ✓-> 1 1. The Badsworth.
Shnder Sir Bellingham .Graham, brings
the Badsworth up to the era of Mr. "Tom Hodgson,"
about 1817. Sir Bellingham left him twelve couple
of hounds and three horses as a nest egg, and he pur-
chased several couple of hounds from the Duke of
Leeds, and kept the pack at Thorpe. Engagement of
Will Danby had been with the Badsworth Wl11 Danby-
during part of Mr. Hodgson's mastership, and Jack
Richards, Mr. Petre's huntsman, was so surp that he
was just the man to work Holderness, that he wrote
him to go over to Snydale, and apply for the place.
Will was then with some harriers near Halifax, and
on the first non-hunting day he set off at three A.M.
in his topboots, and at nine he stood before Mr.
Hodgson. The energy of the man delighted him, and
when he heard Will declare that "the distance mat-
tered nowt," it was a bargain at a guinea a week ; and
Will walked back again the two-and-twenty miles,
but " with a much lighter heart," to give his week's
notice.
To get the hounds together was the Waifs and strays
next object. Before his draft was ready, for Holderness.
Mr. Foljambe sent to say, " I know you'll take waifs
and strays, so you're welcome to a young hound which
has come to my kennel." It was duly sent in the
boot of the coach and lost, and yet, utterly strange as it
was to the country, it came straight to Snydale, and
was called Sensible in consequence. Young Will
Carter happened to see it, and the moment his
memory was confirmed by the ear mark, he chal-
lenged it as " Sister to our Driver." Still he begged
Mr. Hodgson to tell his brother Tom nothing about it,
as he has " far more than he can work." Ranter and
Rosebud were all that Tom could spare in addition;
328
Scott and Sebright.
but Sir William Gerard, Mr. Foljambe, and The
Badsworth sent in some fourteen or fifteen couple.
Ranter was rather undersized, but a rare hound;
and although Badsworth Reginald could hardly
crawl into Holderness, from kennel lameness, and was
nearly hung on the road, he gradually worked himself
sound.
. 0 .... In his time, Mr. Hodgson has built
enne ui mg. ^ fennels, and the lady pack of twenty
couple which he sold to Lord Ducie for iooo guineas
at his Quorn sale, were kennelled for a whole summer
in a transmuted hovel at Snydale. It did not look
worth as many pence, and has since then been the
birthplace of Prologue and Virgilius, and the shelter
of the old grey hunting mare Twilight. The last ken-
nel he had a hand in was at Whiston, near Rotherham,
in conjunction with Sir George Sitwell, who was
" Master of the horse." Mr. Foljambe gave up part of
his country to him; but Lord Scarborough took the
whole, and bought the pack from Mr. Hodgson when
the veteran became the West Riding Registrar of
Deeds at the end of his second season after leaving the
Quorn country.
Life in Holder- During Mr. Hodgson's sixteen seasons
ness- in Holderness, the hounds changed their
kennels three times. Their first was at the Rose and
Crown, Beverley, and then they were removed to other
kennels in the town, and finally to Mr. Watt's, at
Bishop Burton. The subscription never exceeded a
thousand a year, and for the first two seasons, it was
barely 800/. for four days a week. At one time the
work was so hard, that Mr. Hodgson and Will between
them had only two horses that could get out of the
stable at all. As Will said, they were "never bet yet?
but when a bye-day was asked for as well, Mr. Hodg-
son stood firm, on the ground that it took " horses of
cast-iron, hounds of steel, and men of India-rubber"
to achieve what they were doing already. There were
Horn and Hound.
329
never more than 36 couple of hounds in kennel; and
although the horses were only thirty-pounders to
begin with, two of them sold for 130I. and 160I. at
Quorn, after Mr. Hodgson had got five or six seasons
out of them. Comical by Comus, and the gift of Mr.
William Maxwell (the present Lord Herries) carried
him for ten. Once he was scarcely off his back for
fifteen hours, and when his master's reign in Holder-
ness and Leicestershire was over, the old black found
honourable burial under an oak tree inEveringhamPark.
Will stipulated on going, as he did wiiiDanby's
when he joined the York and Ainsty as Sayings,
huntsman, that he was not to wear gills ; and the sport
did not suffer in either case by his resolve. His
speeches were not so caustic as that of a celebrated
brother-chip, who sat on his horse in the middle of a
•heavily top-dressed field, and observed, " I've had
fourteen boiling-house lectures, and I shall now proceed
to hunt my way out of this 100-acre field on purely
scientific principles but they were always straight to
the point. On the legitimate duties and responsibility
of the Legislature, his views were not expansive.
" Mr. is to be a Member of Parliament, Will /"
said one of the hunt, as he was riding home with the
hounds. " Is 'erf replied Will. " Well, he's good for
nozvt else." Again, when a black coat, whose horse
was rather staring in his coat and hips sought counsel
with him upon the matter, he clenched it with, " I
think Mr. , you must keep your horse on chopped
sarmons'.' Nothing could induce him to have his por-
trait taken, and when the ladies asked him to sit, he
put the question by, and said he was not handsome
enough. At last Mr. Hodgson conspired against him
on this point, and having deeoyed him into treeing
a fox, he held him so long, and gripped him so fast
as he sat astride of his shoulders, that he got into
a sketch-book irrevocably in this highly-favoured
position.
33°
Scott and Sebright.
Dreams of the Master and man often -rode five-and-
Chase. twenty miles to cover, and early in the
spring, Will hallooed a fox away from Wassand Wood,
as the church clock was striking seven. Mr. Hodgson
called to give Mr. Constable notice, but found the soup
and fish on the table, and retired without him to the
enjoyment of a merry kill by moonlight. This was
nothing either to him or Will, as they invariably
"hunted in dreams," and Mr. Hodgson had one of the
most remarkable import at Bishop Burton. Will had
drawn sixteen couple of the best dog hounds, to go
into" the Brandsburton country as usual; when to his
surprise, his master appeared at daybreak and said,
" We must take old Melody with us, Will. I've had a
dream ; she must go, or zve shan't get ourfox? " She'll
disgrace us, sir',' replied Will, in the blankest astonish-
ment, as her toes were all down, and she was so nearly
worn out that she had not hunted five days that sea-
son ; but Mr. Hodgson stood firm. A fox was found
in Dringhoe, and was lost beyond Wassand, after
running across the finest part of the country. Melody
came on the line as she could, and was of course
missing when they checked. They could make no-
thing out, and Will had held them forward past a
drain, where a fox had gone to ground two seasons
before, when Mr. Hodgson bethought himself to trot
back. In a minute or two he heard Melody's short
yap in it, and digging up to her they found that she
was baying her fox, and almost touching him. La-
vender was another of Mr. Hodgson's handmaids, and
so resolute, that when her master saw his pack carry a
tremendous head to the top of Bempton Cliff, his heart
quite failed, and he knew that she must be over. His
prophetic mind was so Convinced on the point that he
pulled up, and went sadly home, dreading to hear the
end. Luckily only six went over, but she was one.
The late Ned Oxtoby, the first whip, and a very valued
servant of Mr. Hodgson's was equal to the occasion.
Horn and Hound.
33i
He peeped over the edge of the cliff, and saw three
hounds lying dead near the fox, and the others bruised,
and yelping on the most remarkable crevices. By the
aid of a rope, he brought up Lavender and another,
but a ledge prevented him from getting at Romulus,
1 and he left him with an aching heart, for the sea-gulls.
When he looked at the place afterwards in cool blood,
he declared that 100/. a year for life wouldn't have
tempted him to go down. The reward was worth the
risk, as a couple of Lavender's eight puppies lived,
and at the end of twenty miles, Will Webb, who
was then huntsman, saw the hounds swaggering over a
new arrival, and guessed that it was Romulus, who had
backed himself up a cliff almost as steep as a house side.
The Holderness foxes of that period Hoiderness
were generally long, and dark-coloured in Foxes-
the low country, while those on the wolds, which Mr.
Hodgson handled with his lady pack, were rather big-
ger, and lighter in their coats. Five were found in a
rape-field, near Roos, which they drew four times that
day. One was chopped to begin with, by being caught
in a sheep-net, and the four others furnished runs of
different duration from five-and-twenty to ten minutes.
As regards foxes' habits, Mr. Hodgson was a perfect
Buffon. On one occasion he sent his horse to a farm-
house, and lay "stretched many a rood" in a dry ditch
for hours, to see the vixen come and move nine cubs,
which had been disturbed. When she did come, she
proved to be the largest he had ever seen ; but two
magpies were chattering above her, and d'iscomfited
her so much, that she would not go up to them that
night, and that long vigil was void. However, a sen-
tinel was found, and his report was that she moved
them to the opposite side of thd field before daybreak,
in lots of three at a time. Again he was summoned
to a consultation by a farmer at Lowthorp, to come
over and see thirteen cubs. His man had disturbed
them on ploughing a headland, and taken seven out of
332
Scott and Sebright.
one angle of the earth, and six out of the other, both
of which had only one common entrance. They were
put in a stable with a half-door, and a lad sat up all
night in the opposite granary, to pull the top part to,
in case the dams came to them. Although the stable
was half a mile from the earth, he had not to watch
long ; but the tarred string with which the door was
tied, seemed to make them suspicious, and after
scratching for nearly an hour at the bottom of the door
they departed, and never came again.
Mr. Hodgson's Strychnined-rabbits and traps were
Scurry stakes at then happily unknown in Holderness,
Beverley. an(j farm{ng men, with " master's com-
pliments," and consignments of stub-bred foxes and
cubs were perpetually arriving at the kennels, to
await further orders. On one occasion a litter was
dug up at Sigglesthorne, and the farmer came with
them himself. " I will show you what I do with them,"
said Mr. Hodgson, and when Will had mealed them
well, the trio adjourned from Bishop Burton to the
bottom of the T. Y.C. at Beverley, with their burden
in a couple of sacks. All four foxes ran together up
the course, head and head, to the stand, as straight
as if they were going down a furrow at Dringhoe, and
then the old fox drew away from them, and straight
to Bishop Burton Woods, while the others bent to the
right.
Mr. Hodgson would never bolt a fox till he had
been made safe, but on one occasion, he felt specially
glad to let his fox have a second chance for its life.
He had run one to ground in Sir Tatton's country,
and was taking his hounds away, when the ladies and
the gardeners arrived armed with pickaxe and spade,
and full of complaints about peacock and guinea-hen
slaughter. In vain did Mr. Hodgson propound to
them, in his most chivalrous tones, the whole law of
hunting on the point. His learning and sophistry
availed him nothing. The fox was a regular ticket-
Horn and Hound.
333
of-leave offender, and they declared that if the digging
occupied all night they would have him, and "the
imminent deadly breach" began. There was only
one chance of foiling them politely, and Mr. Hodgson
descending from his horse in his legal agony and
leggings, commenced stamping wildly on the top of
the earth, and succeeded in bolting him, and then
bolted himself. However, he was enabled to send
back the brush and mask to his fair persecutors, at the
end of an hour; and his treachery was condoned.
Still, as the ground had been opened he felt bound to
lay their conduct before Sir Tatton. The baronet had
deftly apologized for his hunter's rudeness in jumping
away when the lady of Thorpe Hall came out to
speak to him, by saying that " it had never seen any-
thing so handsome beforeand his dictum in this
■equally difficult case was as follows " Dear Hodg-
son,— Whenever the ladies tempt you to do anything
wrong, get out of their way."
These were not Mr. Hodgson's only Practical jokes
difficulties. An East Riding veteran in Hoidemess.
remembers why he did not care to sleep at The Tiger
again, when its merry club were having a night of it
in the next room, with Sir Bellingham and Mr.
Hodgson at their head, but the latter was the victim
of many plots in turn. They stuffed his horn so full
of egg and buttered toast, that, although he showed
them a capital run from Kilnwick Percy, he could not
give thern a note on finding. Again, with Mr.
Foljambe as the principal, they disappointed him most
grievously when he looked for blood. A Bessingby
fox had gone to ground in a head of rabbit holes near
Carnaby, and as it was rather a dragging day, a few
scarlets agreed to stop and dig him out, when Mr.
Hodgson went to draw elsewhere. " We've got him,"
shouted Mr. Foljambe, when he returned, " in that
sack; I know you, don't like much lazv, I'll take the
sack myself, and go into the middle of that grass field,
334
Scott and Sebright.
and give yon a famous start" The sack was accord-
ingly held up, shaken, and emptied. Alas! tlu
hounds were still more disgusted than Lord Middle-
ton's, when they were racing half a century ago for
their fox from Kexby Wood, and threw up at a stuffed
one, which was put to frighten carrion,—as they ran
for nothing but an empty pie'-dish, some plates, and a
mutton bone. The party had sent for a capital lunch
from Bessingby, and had never dug a yard.
The Biter Bit On another occasion Mr. Hodgson
went to bed at eleven after a very hard
day, and forgot to bolt the door. He was in his first
sleep, when he suddenly became conscious of what
seemed like a hairy pillow at the foot of the bed, and
waking out of a sweet dream of Dringhoe and Black-
smith Gorse, viewed a party of his friends dressed in
hats and scarlets for the occasion, and with spades and
pickaxes in their hands, just putting in a terrier at the
foot of the bed, to draw a tame fox. " I know he's
here, Will; I saw him go in" said one in true
Hodgsonian tones ; but their victim waited to hear no
more, and in an instant the Gentleman in White
dashed out into the passage, and tried the first head
of earths he could get to. The wife of one of the
scarlet conspirators, who had been listening for the
" Goneaway!" just got her bedroom door bolted in
time, and he went to ground in Lord Hawke's earth.
In vain did the unhappy bachelor beg to be let in.
The key was turned for the night, and " No, no! go
on zvith the digging; there's clean litter in the Bads-
zvorth Kennel, and fotil in the Holderness; I'll stop
zvhere I am till morningwas the only response. And
so he did, and the pie-dish and the horn business were
amply avenged.
Captain Percy Two troops of the Ninth Lancers were
Williams. at Beverley at that time, with Captain
Percy Williams among them. It was under Mr.
Hodgson, to whom he often whipped in, that the
Horn and Hound.
335
Captain first began his hunting career, and he subse-
quently took charge of the hounds at the Oadby
Kennel during Mr. Hodgson's second season with the
Quorn. The first time he ever handled them was
when they had a bye-day from the willow garths near
Loughboro', and killed after an hour and forty-five
minutes in Stamford Park. No one at that time
could beat Mr. John Bower on his chest- Mr. John
nut Marquis, or in fact upon anything, Bower,
made or unmade, even when at last he could hardly
hold the reins. One of the finest proofs of his horse-
manship was in a very peculiar run from Gransmoor,
after a poacher with a lurcher. His horse stuck fast
in Barmpton drain, and was utterly exhausted when
he got him out. He then hailed some ploughmen,
and asked them if they had seen a man, and learnt
that one had just fastened a dog to a gate, and run off.
" Can any one of your horses get over a fence ?" said he,
and hardly waiting for a reply, and feeling sure of his
friend Duggleby, the owner, he jumped on a raw
young four-year-old, bare backed, with chains and
collar, just qs it was,, and loosing the dog to run the
scent, handed the filly over the fences, to the utter
astonishment of herself and the ploughman, and ran
into his game five or six fields beyond.
Mr. Ralph Lambton was one of the Mr. Ralph
keenest disciples of Hugo Meynell. His Lambton.
brother, the father of the late Lord Durham, was one
of the earliest of the sojourners at Melton, and kept
a pack of harriers there as well. After leaving Cam-
bridge without a shilling of debt (a rare feat which
he loved to dwell upon), Ralph was a frequent visitor
to Mr. Meynell at Quorn, and occasionally hunted
with Sir Carnaby Haggerstone, who was manager of
the Bel voir during the late Duke's minority. His
father General Lambton always said that he would
leave his boy " enough to live upon, and keep a pack
of fox-hounds with any squire in the county of Dur-
336 Scott and Sebright.
ham," and well he kept his word. For upwards of
forty years did that son keep a pack nearly at his own
expense, and infuse a Meynellian freshness into
Northern hunting such as it had never known before.
After the death of James Shelly, who came as hunts-
man to Lambton Park, with the Talbot pack (which
were of Vernon, or rather Meynell blood), Mr. Lamb-
ton always hunted them himself, until he was in his
seventieth year, when The Kitten fell with him in the
middle of a grass field near Long Newton, and lite-
rally broke his back. He had injured the vertebrae
in 1825, and made matters no better by a second fall,
but there was no hope now, and for six years and four
months he faced without a murmur all the weariness
of a sick room, with the calm heroism so peculiarly
his own. A harder man or finer rider has scarcely
ever crossed a country. Once or twice he was picked
up for dead, when he had been riding some raw four-
year-old ; and at last Mr. George Baker of Elemore
became so impressed with the belief of his having
an invulnerable body, that he would not hear of his
being called an iron man, but carried the ^comparison
a point further to " those stub heads they make gun-
barrels of."
His Habits of He was a remarkably high-bred man,
Life- in his look and address, and sat in Par-
liament several years for Durham. Boodle's was his
great resort when in town, but with the exception of
a few weeks in the season, he was rarely absent from
his hounds for a day. Few were more abstemious
and sparing in their diet, and he used to tell young
sportsmen, "You'll be lucky if you've no more dinner-
bag at my age." He touched nothing from breakfast
till dinner, and rarely tasted any liquid but wine. It
was his boast that he was never hungry or thirsty in
his life. He always kept his weight eleven-four to
within a pound, and barring his grey head, he stripped
quite young at sixty. Such a Nestor, in the field or
Horn and Hound.
33 7
in the coffee-room, could not fail to command respect,
and the younger members of the Sedgefield Club
always addressed him as " Sir." Scarlet with a silver
button, and black with a scarlet under-waistcoat, were
the field dress and livery, when the Club was in its
bloom ; and Lords Durham and Kintore, Sir Hed-
worth Williamson and his son, Sir M. White Ridley,
Sir David Baird, the Messrs. Lambton (his nephews),
Admiral Dundas, Mr. Spiers, Messrs. Shafto, Mr. Har-
land of Sutton, &c., &c., are names well remembered
at Sedgefield, where it was duly held in November
and February. Of horses he was no very great
judge, but liked to buy thorough-bred young
ones ; and Volunteer, Firebrand, Undertaker, Doctor,
Zephyr, Hermit, and Hannibal were among his best.
No one was a more regular hunter of a country; no
matter how rough it might be, every cover heard
his boxwood horn in its due proportion, and that
cheery " Yi, Haro ! Forrard. Yi, Haro /" which
came booming out in all its melody when his hounds
had settled to their scent and seemed inclined to run
hard.
Mr. Lambton went to very few ken- Mr. Lambton
nels; but when he did go to Belvoir, he on the Flass-
told Goosey that he had quite spoilt him for home,
and that he should return perfectly down-hearted.
He hated a short-necked hound, and made an im-
mense point of good shoulders, as the best preventive
of lameness, but for legs and feet he cared less than
hound breeders generally do. They seemed to lose
their nerve entirely during their Quorn season. Old
Talisman, Whipster, and Forester would look round,
and when they saw the Melton Cavalry coming, they
never stopped for a scent, and in one instance went
nearly three miles across country without one, at tip-
top pace, and no Treadwell or Tom Ball could stop
them. Sometimes they did not taste blood for three
weeks together; but when they and Treadwell fell on
z
338
Scott and Sebright.
quieter times in the Berwickshire country, and they
could run away over the bogs from the horses till
they seemed like little terriers on the cliffs, they soon
got back their old form, and rendered a capital ac-
count of the Cheviot Hill foxes.
His Hound Of a stale hound, Mr. Lambton had
Feeding. an immense horror. He kept a large
pack, and gave those that were not hunting long,
steady exercise, and brought them out as fit as fight-
ing-cocks. It was a saying of his,, that if he saw a
hound tire, he felt as if he could hang himself. Fresh
pudding and flesh, and none of the latter on the day
before hunting, were the great points of his feeding
system, which he nearly always superintended in
person; and Fenwick Hunnam his feeder, who had
scarcely ever seen a hunt in his life, quite coincided
with his master, and was most oracular on the subject
of condition. " When hounds arn't done to," he used
to say, " as hounds should be done to, they neither do
credit to themselves nor them that's consarned with
them. They may kill a fox in a shabby short of a way,
but when they have to work for a second fox, and he's
a strong un, they disgrace themselves, and them that's
consumed with them; I'll not have my hounds treated
in no syke way." Fenwick was a most faithful fix-
ture, and so were all Mr. Lambton's servants. He
did not give very high wages, but he knew how to in-
spire their loyalty, and his butler and housekeeper,
his second groom, and several others lived with him
from fifteen to fifty years. His head man, John
Winter, was with him at Cambridge, and never left
him till his death.
Mr. Williamson's When he was at last laid to rest,
Mastership. Durham was aghast at the blank, but
the Marquis of Londonderry headed the subscription,
and came out in scarlet again, and charged the fences,
as he had done the Cuirassiers at Waterloo, and
Mr. Williamson became master for two seasons of the
Horn and Hound. 339
" Wynyard and Durhaih Foxhounds." The Lambton
hounds had been sold to Lord Suffield, and Mr. Wil-
liamson had to put together such odds and ends as he
could get, late in the summer of '38. Mr. Foljambe,
who has so often been a friend in need on such occa-
sions, sent a draft, and so did Sir Tatton Sykes, and
Sir Matthew White Ridley, and others. Mr. William-
son was his own huntsman, and steadied his wild
young pupils most wonderfully before the season was
out. His woodland labours were well repaid, and in
his second season, although he had to bring an un-
usual number of young hounds into the field, they
carried a head and went the pace. Those who had
played with the drafts of the previous season, began
to be reminded of " the flying ladies" of old Ralph
Lambton's heart.
Once again the old Sedgefield country was in peril,
but as the renowned yeoman-farmer, Dickey Wood of
Close—who was always in front on Buckram or Bags-
man, or a raw four-year-old, or an " auld-gunner " out
of the plough—expressed himself, my Lord London-
derry came forward once more and " kept the tarn-
bourine a rowling " without any subscription. His
lordship bought the hounds, with a rare stock of old
meal, and brought them to Wynyard, and with John
Glover, a pupil of Walker's from The Fife, as hunts-
man, and a friend of Mr. Williamson as field-master,
soothed the shade of Ralph Lambton once more, with
the most remarkable run that the country has known.
" The morning " (Feb. 16th, 1841), says its chronicler, '' was calm
and dull, and the little wind that was blowing was from the south-
west. The field was not numerous, as the Wynyard family were
abroad for the season. Our meet was at Newbiggin, and before the
hounds had been in the old cover at Foxy Hill (our first draw) three
minutes, and almost before they had time to find him, Tommy Arrow-
smith the whipper-in hallooed him away at the south-west corner of
the Ten Acre Gorse. The field were stationed at the other end, and
the hounds were away and half over the first field with a blazing
scent, before the leading men could get to the Halloo. Facing as fine
a piece of country as hounds ever ran over, we were evidently (barring
Z 2
54°
Scott and Sebright.
accidents) in for a run of the old sort from Foxy Hill, and so it
proved. After pointing for Newton Grange and Sadburge, he turned
northwards over Newbiggin Bottom, which was very deep, and the
'stell' brimful of water, crossed the water by Dales House, leaving
Barmpton a little to the left, and then straight for Byers Gill, to the
south-west of Great Stanton, crossed the Sedgefield road, sank the
hill to Little Stainton, and had another turn at the 'stell,' rather
broader, and quite as full of water as we had found it above, and so
straight to Bryan Harrison earths.
"Up to this point the time was 45 minutes. The hounds were on
the earths for two or three minutes, but the body of them (18 couple
as it afterwards proved) came out of the small plantation round the
south side of the earths, and settled to a fair holding scent, and away
across the Darlington turnpike road near Newton Grange, and the
Yarm Road near Oak Tree, where they had their only check of impor-
tance, and had slow hunting down by Traffick Hill to the river Tees.
We had then run 1 hour 25 minutes in Durham, the first 45 minutes
as hard as we could split over about 17 miles of country. Then the
river Tees, swollen nearly up to the top of the embankment, and
sweeping down with a volume and rapidity which might have deterred
any fox, brought us all to a stand. Such as were left of the field
and the celebrated ' black coat' of the country, concluded that the day
was over, when up came John Glover, who naturally, after such a run,
was anxious to account for his fox, and cast them along the embank-
ment, not thinking that the fox had crossed. After holding them along
it for a few yards, every hound dashed in, having winded their fox from
the opposite side, and in an instant the torrent was carrying them down
at twenty miles an hour. After being carried down about 300 yards
every hound landed, and they quietly cast themselves back exactly
opposite to the spot where they had taken the water, struck the scent
into W orsell Gill, and away up it, with as fine a cry as if they had just
found. Now, Mr. Glover, a pretty business you've made of it! It's a
100 to 1 against their being got home to-night. Worsell Gill is full of
wild Cleveland hill foxes, and the chances are the hounds will go
straight to the Hills. ' Where is the nearest bridge?' says poor John.
'Yarm or Dinsdale,' is the reply, 'and neither of them nearer than
three miles,' chimes in our friend of the black coat, and with a counte-
nance as black with despair at the thought of the hounds out all night.
John Glover is an entire stranger to the Yorkshire side of the Tees, and
Arrowsmith almost as much, and the notes of hounds going direct
south from the Gill, is dying away from the ear in the distance ! Horses
are nearly cooked, as well they might be.
"Fortunately the manager was able to get a fresh horse at the
Dinsdale Hotel, and with John and the whip crossed at Dinsdale
Bridge, and held on towards Pickton, in the direction of which the
hounds seemed to be bending from Worsell Gill. Between. Pickton
and Appleton the cry was heard again, and at Appleton we found them
still ahead, and at Enter-Common they had crossed the Great North
Road about ten minutes before us, going straight down for Lord
Alvanley's Plantation in the Bedale country. At Cooper House, near
Cowton, and at least twelve miles from Worsell Gill (where the hounds
Horn and Hound. 341
entered Yorkshire), we heard a halloo, and found a countryman with
the fox and eighteen couple of hounds baying round him. Every hound
took the river at Traffick Hill, and they were all up at Cooper House,
and had killed their fox, according to the countryman's account, in
about I hour and 20 minutes from crossing the river. There is no doubt
that they had changed foxes at Bryan Harrison earths, the only hounds
wanting at the end of this extraordinary run being those which were
recovered at Foxy Hill, where they had run their first fox back to
cover, and some still think it was a fresh fox from Worsell Gill. And
so ended this wonderful day."
Cheshire- is truly faithful to the me- sir Hany Main-
mory of the venerable father of its hunt- waring,
ing field, Sir Harry Mainwaring. He was hale and
vigorous to the very day of his death ; and, although
the glories and hospitalities of Peover had ended, he
was as cheerful as ever at seventy-six, and fond of a
little quiet cub-hunting when Sir Watkin's or the
Cheshire came within reach of his quiet village home
at Marbury. He assisted the late Mr. Heron for
many years before he was Master himself; and his
dynasty, which lasted for nineteen seasons, came to a
close in '37. Will Head was his huntsman for several
of them, and then came his favourite Joe Maiden,
who bore such a distinguished part in those memor-
able days whose memory is embalmed in the Warbur-
ton songs. Sir Harry was a capital judge of a hound
in kennel, or in his work, and made a tour of the best
kennels every year. However promising might be
the stories he heard of a hound's work, he never would
breed from him, unless the kennel used him them-
selves; and the excuse " we have a good deal of the
sort" was wholly lost upon him. He liked a large
hound, and was most particular about legs and feet.
Bedford, Gloucester, Gulliver, Bangor, Whynot, and
Marquis, of the direct blood from the first introduction
of hounds into Cheshire, were his favourites ; and
when he gave up the pack, it would have been difficult
to find many superior to them in England; while the
hunt had three or four men among its first-flight dozen
who would bow to none. The day was never too
342 Scott and Sebright.
long for Sir Harry in hunting, and no man ever kept
a country better together, or hunted it more fairly.
It was his boast that during the whole of his master-
ship he was never five minutes late at the cover side,
and yet he had sometimes immense distances to
reach from Peover. When there, he would never
allow more than five minutes' law. He always wore
flannel, never drank spirits, never had a rheumatic
pain or headache in his life, and was always an early
riser.
His best hunters were Brown Bess, an eighty-
-pound one-eyed mare called Alice Grey, Virgo, De-
lamere Lass, and a little chestnut from Shropshire,
which he bought for 50/., and sold to the Roths-
childs. He had also a wonderful long-tailed brown
hack, called Sweetbread, from the fact that she was
purchased from a Knutsford butcher for 18/., which
always kept up a perpetual-motion canter to covert,
whatever the distance might be. Across country he
was a good performer, when the day was not too
misty ; but being very short-sighted, he carried his
eye-glass in the handle of his whip, and required a
horse to pull at him a little, so as to keep him straight.
The Vale of Chester and the Nantwich country he
liked best; and Seighton Gorse in the former, and
Ravensmoor Windmill, Warmingham Wood, and
Bradfield Green in the other parts were the principal
places and meets in his day.
Tom Ranee's Tom Ranee was born with the cen-
History. tury, and lived full a third of it with the
Cheshire, as first or second whip, under seven masters
and six huntsmen. His ambition was never stirred
to be more than the successor of Zach Goddard, th e
"Father of English Whips," and he uniformly de-
clared that 'he would as soon break stones as hunt a
pack of hounds. The family seems to be subject to
coincidences. His father and grandfather both died
at sixty, but he safely passed that-age, and went out
Horn and Hound.
343
with his spade on long earth-stopping excursions, with
all the zest of youth, Again he is one of ten, and
he has begotten ten in turn. He began by whip-
ping in two harriers, near Yarmouth, and came on
from thereto Mr. "Dick Gurney," of Thickthorn, near
Norwich,
This stout gentleman first " broke out" Dick Guniey
with ten or eleven brace of greyhounds,
and Tom had to lead them gallops, and act as slipper
on field-days. He then kept six or seven hunters for
The Puckeridge and the Pytcheley, and said that he
only weighed sixteen stone. Tom rode second horse
for him, and he led home the great slapping Sober
Robin, when his near foreleg gave way in the Ware
country. Robin was fully sixteen and a half hands,
with remarkable couplings, and rather a hot temper of
his own ; and in his heyday, Mr. Gurney refused a
thousand guineas for him over the dinner-table.
Clinker was another of his best, and so was a thickset
chestnut mare. Tom always gave his master five-and-
twenty minutes before he brought up the second horse,
and delighted to watch him crashing away with no
spurs, and nothing but a dog-whip. If a horse did
refuse, he would " cut a life-time out of him ;" and he
•would discharge the best groom he had if he found
him putting his horse over a leaping bar. Six of them
fetched upwards of 1300 guineas when they were sold
off at Tattersall's, and Master Fray was bought in.
When " Dick " was not hunting, he had plenty of time
on his hands, and had abundant consolation in his
snuff-box, the contents of which he used to fling about
so profusely in church that he would set the pews
behind him off sneezing.
It has been well said that—
" The Ethiop Gods have Ethiop lips,
Bronze eyes, and Woolly hair ;
The Grecian Gods are like the Greeks,
As keen-eyed, cold, and fair
344
Scott and Sebright.
and perhaps it was on this principle, that the great
Pytcheley welter-weight set up as his idols, an enor-
mous pair of twin Scotch bullocks. Once, if not twice a
day, he pondered fondly over them, and when they
had been feeding for three years he had a van made
to take them to Smithfield. The best died before the
day of departure, and the other never went after all.
Southdown rams, one of which, Thickthorn, he hired
from Mr. Webb, for 200 gs. a season, were another of
his fancies, and, taking him all in all, Tom considers
"he was a right unV
Tom in From his service, Tom departed to
Cheshire. Baron Rothschild, as pad-groom " for
two months, as near as a toucher," but the Baron
released him at Lord Delamere's request, and in 1830
he met Sir Harry at Vale Royal, and accepted the seals
of office, which he held to the end of the '61 season,
till his eyesight became too dim. There was no finer
characteristic of the man, than his genial tone and
polite manner of steering his hounds at the end of his
drooping whip lash, through a crowd of horsemen in a
narrow lane. " Jest stand a one side, gemmen, if yon
please ; beg yer pardon ; a little mossel, to let the 'onnds
paass ; thank ye, Sir ; now gemmen, be so good ; thank
ye, Sir and the feat was accomplished. Stimulated
by these gentle blandishments, every one felt proud
of the room he made, and quite a party to the
safe conduct desired. Conciliation was the key-
note of all his addresses, except to a transgressing
hound, and there Tom was not forgiving, and
rigidly included any previous conviction for riot in
his sentence.
Toms Table- Of course we wandered off to have a
Talk. word with Tom on the Forest, and found
him most communicative on the few little points we
had to ask, " We had four horses apiece," he said,
" when I came ; we had no second horse that time of
day. We lost the Wrenbury and Wickstead country;
Horn and Hound.
345
that's all done away with ; we used to go to Wren-
bury, and stop the week.
" Will Head was here when I came ; Head, Maiden,
he was a good little huntsman, a deter- and Markweri.
mined little fellow, but not so much so latterly. Joe
Maiden came from the North Warwickshire ; they
were great times, few could go with him ; resolute,
determined chap was Maiden across country ; so
persevering ; never liked to lose a fox. No one knew
better how to handle a pack of hounds than poor
Markwell.
" The foxes are sadly changed ; so Foxes and their
many of 'em turned down ; very few Troubles,
straight-forward foxes at all now; keepers level the old
uns off, and the young uns, a hignorant lot of little
devils, they know no country ; they've no parents to
show them, or yet larn them the country, and it ain't
likely they can find it for themselves. We had very
straight-forward foxes in the Wrenbury country; the
Chester country was never the same as the Wrenbury
country for good foxes ; they might chance about
Saighton and Waverton to pick up a good one, and
take it to the hills. We had two devilish good runs
from Wharton Gorse to The Willingtons ; time
Maiden was here; one fox from Beech House cover,
Hurlestone Gorse they call it, used to go away
regularly, at the lower end for Radnor, and on for
Peckforton Wood, up by Ridley. We ran him three
seasons, and killed him at last. He was a greyhound
fox ; regular leggy one. They used to send me to the
old corner at the lower end of the gorse. He knew
us—before the hounds got there, you'd see Charley
walking off quickish. These foxes on the hills, bless
my heart and body, they don't half rouse them. We
want two or three days amongst them, then we'd get
some better foxes in the country; they want well
rousing ; that was a great point with Captain White ;
he made us stick to the hills and drive them down.
346 Scott and Sebright.
Tom's Disasters " 1 have had a £ood maiW accidents; I
beg your pardon, gemmen ; I lost my
eye, when I was twelve,—with a gun ; it's given me a
deal of trouble ; the first time I felt the other so bad,
was at feeding time, the hounds and everything looked
like a cloud of sulphur. The Manchester doctors have
been trying their hands on it; I think they've cleared
it a little ; fire seemed to come out of it; and then
something like a bottle screw, a black wavy thing
from the eye to the ground. I could hardly see a fox
at last; I dare say I missed some of then) my last
season. My horse once ran away with me, and broke
the bridge of my nose against a bough ; I couldn't
blow it again for weeks ; then a stub got into the
blind eye, and I pulled it out; but when I broke the
corner of my rib, I was in furious pain all the day. I
still never gave in.
Sir Harry Main- " Sir Harry, he was a good un, coming
waring. Up wjth his glass in his whip-handle;
never a rattling rider ; his two greys and a bay horse
Briton I liked best to see him on ; he would come on
his hack be it where it would, and his hunters met
him from the kennels. He liked General of the old
Galloper sort, and Hannibal and Hotspur; the best
we had we lost in the madness; we put eighteen and a
half couple forward after it; we had the sweetest pack
before the malady.
The Cheshire " I beg your pardon, gemmen ; talk
Green Collars, about riding, I saw Mr. Wilbraham
Tollemache take the river Weaver brimming full
close by Nantwich : he had a black, snaffle-bridle
mare ; she slipped back again, and he jerked himself
clean over her head on to the bank, and pulled her
out, ' That's zvell done, Tollemache /' said Lord
Delamere, and in the next field but one they ran to
ground. Mr. Tollemache stripped, and met us going
on for Aston Gorse, in an old farmer's clothes, and rode
the run ; he rode little thorough-bred things ; he was
Horn and Hound.
347
, a, neat horseman, and had a deal of nerve, Sir
•Richard Brooke was a very good one, as long as he
could last; he'd go as long as he could go ; never
nursed his horses. Mr. Glegg would take a line to
himself, wide, always with the hounds, not as some of
these young uns do ; if they see the hounds a little
at fault, they go by them and make the fences crash
again. Mr. Smith Barry was a fancy rider, he rode to
his horse; he was rather on the larking system, jump
off and make horses come over gates and stiles after
him. I've seen Mr. Warburton go along pretty well;
he has his glasses on; he's obliged to take them off
and polish them a bit, when we get to slow hunting.
Colonel Cholmondley bruises along, I've heard him
make these wire fences rattle a bit; Captain White he
was a clipper; he could ride and keep them in first-
rate order too.
" I beg your pardon, gemmen; there are great
changes ; men and country ; they were all small fields,
ditches never cleaned out in that Saighton country ;
jiow it's like a garden ; for two miles round these
cops are kept high and narrow, cut sharp as the ridge
dof your hand to keep the harriers off; they're getting
a little flatter, horses get their hind feet on them;
there's a deal of bone-dust about this country now ; it
alters scent; the hounds stop and peck at it, it's a
bad fault these bone-dust fields ; and there's so much
of this goano used. I beg your pardon, gemmen, but
I must go, I've some earth-stopping." And so all the
richer not only by these notes, but by a fox's head,
and some teeth which Tom considers a worthy breast-
pin for the highest earthly potentate, we parted from
the worthy old fellow, and watched his thin, upright
form disappearing through the mist on his 'midnight
errand.
One word for varmint " Old Zach," the old Zach
great link, in whipper-in succession, be- Goddard.
tween Tom Moody and Tom Ranee—who died in
34§
Scott and Sebright.
1856, in his seventy-second year. Like Jem Morgan,
he had four sons, who all followed his profession.
Besides Jack, the inventor of " Tailby Thursdays,"
and Ben, late of the Bicester, there was Jem, a very
determined fellow, who died when first whip to Ben
Foote with Mr. Villebois ; and Tom, who was very
distinguished as a steeple-chaser and first whip with
the Pytcheley, but he too died young, and is buried
near Jack Stevens and Jack Woodcock, at Brix-
worth. Zach was only five foot six, and never much
above nine stone ; and it was when some one said
to Mr. John Warde, " If I had hounds I should so like
to get all men like Zach," that he made his much
quoted answer : "Oh / yon should, eh ! fond of light
weights ? I don't know much difference between heavy
and light weights, except that the one breaks horses'
backs, and the other breaks their 'hearts!' Zach had a
large £und of natural humour, and many a tale to tell
of the days when he was second whip under Nevett
to " Glorious John," who made their place no sinecure
during cub-hunting. The men slept over the stables,
and he would often wake them with the thunders of
his stick at three in the morning, to " come and give
those foxes a second touch." However, they were of
Billy Lackaday's opinion on bell-ringing, and never
got up, unless he " persewered," and came at the door
panels a second time.
The Snooze One sleep he never forgot to remind
in the Park, them of. It was a hot summer's day,
and the three agreed to take a copper of ale, and sit
out with the hounds in Westron Park. Zach vowed
that he could keep awake, if no one else did, but they
slept well on into the evening, and when they awoke,
there were only two hounds left. One by one they
had slipped off home, and the old gentleman had let
them in. It was quite a matter of discussion who
"dare and go face him first," when they saw him
hovering in the distance about the kennel, but he put
Horn and Hound.
349
them out of difficulty by meeting them and ironically
asking after his hounds. Another day he dropped on
to Zach on the hat question. Once a year he allowed
each of his men a dog-skin hat, and Zach's had been
ordered a month. Not seeing him at church, he asked
Zach the reason, and he at once laid it 011 to his shabby
hat. " Oh ! that's your excuse, Zach ?" he said : " a very
poor one, Zach ; if you had the best hat in England the
parson zvould not let you zuear it; you'd have to pull it
off'.1 Zach didn't quite see his way out of this argu-
ment, so he simply told his friends, " Squire had me
there; old man done me again." It was on a hat too
that Mr. Warde's great New Forest story turned.
" I never knew the nature of a bog," he used to say,
"till I went to Hampshire. I saw a good hat on the
top of one, and there was a head in it, and the head
said, ' I don't care for myself, but do help to get my
horse up, he's in a bog below.' "
Zach was with "Gentleman Smith" oidZachs
for a time, but he was best known during Career,
his seventeen seasons with Lord Middleton in War-
wickshire. His scream was almost unearthly in its
shrillness, and he trusted to the natural organ under
all circumstances. Once, when Harry Jackson had
"broken his thigh, he was in command, and Lord
Middleton told him to blow his hounds away
from Woolford Wood. He put the horn to his lips,
and then he said, almost in a passion, " Hang it, my
lord, you know I never could blow a hornf and he
flung it away in the mud. In his latter days he
became kennel huntsman to Mr. Bradley, in whose
service he remained, much respected, during the time
that gentleman kept stag-hounds, and he turned out
the pack in excellent condition for their celebrated
runs with "The Nob," and "Water Witch," &c., over
the pastures of Warwickshire and Northamptonshire.
When his days of service were over, he would come
to Heythrop, when Jack was there. His ankles were
35°
Scott and Sebright.
weak from rheumatism and a number of severe falls,
but he would often come out on a mule and see Jim
and Jack rattle the cubs about. In the evenings he
would take his pipe out of his mouth to give them a
" Southerly Wind" or " Tom Moody," and a series of
those view hallooes which the Woolford and Farnboro'
sides of Warwickshire knew so well. Itchington was
a horse he liked to talk of, and the mention of his
Grassini, which died when his lordship lost so many,
was enough almost at that lapse of time to bring out a
second flood of tears. He swore by " Mr. Shawe" as
the best huntsman, and Woodman the best hound he
had ever seen, and the picture of the last, and Grassini's
foot were the only memorials of his woodcraft which
he cared to keep.
Celebrities at The Bicester country had the good
Bicester. fortune to be held, with the exception of
Lord Sefton's one season, by only three masters for
nearly seventy years. Early in the century there was
not a chimney corner to be let in its little capital, and
upwards of a hundred hunters were stabled there. It
kept its prestige amidst no small attractions elsewhere.
The Billesdon Coplow day, than which Lord Jersey
used to vow that he had never known a colder,
had sealed the fame of the Quorn country years
before; and it was not suffering in Mr. Assheton
Smith's hands. John Warde was with the Pytcheley,
and " Mr. Shawe" with the Belvoir. Still the Bicester
men were quite content with Stephen Goodall and
Sir Thomas Mostyn's four days a week, and the
choice of Tom Rose and the Grafton, or Philip Payne
and the Badminton on the other two. Sir Thomas,
with Mr. Griff Lloyd as his factotum, lived at Bainton,
close by the first set of kennels. Lord J ersey hunted
with them when he was not at Melton; and when he
was not on Gipsey, he generally rode the Hon. Mr.
Vanneck's second best horse, and as generally beat
him. Mr. Vanneck (who gave 700 guineas for two to
Horn and Hotind.
35i
Mr. Lloyd, of Aston) was far below him as a horseman,
and John Warde used to say of him, that he had seen
him ride all round a field, and-come out at the same
place. This statement was rather qualified by its
invariable conclusion. " If he had not been a Melton
man I'd not have shown him tip!
Sir Harry Peyton went straight on Spartacus, and
Mr. Harrison of Shelswell would give any money so
that the twins Lindow and Rawlinson (who was
great on Spread Eagle) might not have a pound the
best of him in a fast thing. Sir John Cope and Mr.
John Moore both joined the throng. Lord Stamford's
nephew, Mr. Booth Grey, lived with Mr. Drake, who
was very regular at the cover side, but he never rode
hard; and the walls of " Hetters" or " The Cocked
Hat," as it was termed, witnessed the good fellow-
ship of Sir Charles Knightley, John Tremayne, twenty
years member for Cornwall, and "Mr. Tom Pennant,"
from Wales. The latter was a very fair horseman,
but Mr. Tremayne was more for hunting than riding.
Sir Charles united the two in an eminent degree, and
although Guidepost had a high character, and was
named to correspond, his Consol and Tilton (which
he purchased for 250 guineas from Mr. Harrison)
were far better. Baron Robeck, the Swede, backed
himself for 20 guineas when the Pytcheley found at
Holderby, to follow Sir Charles on the latter over the
three first fences, and came to grief at a bridle gate.
Tilton surprised Mr. Assheton Smith when he came
over occasionally to reconnoitre, and he said of him
that " he pulled for two hours after he seemed beat."
It was remembered as characteristic of the man dur-
ing one of these visits, that on a Claydon Woods
Day, when he could not get his horse to face his
fences, he got off him at last, and flogged him away
in his fury up a lane. Lord Anglesey's " winter
officers," as the hard riders of the 7th were called,
were often at the cover side, and so was Jacob
352
Scott and Sebright.
Wardell, one of the Billesdon Coplow men. As his
friends dropped off, Jacob gradually gave up fox-
hunting for wife-hunting, and set up a regular agency-
office for the purpose. His latest report of himself
upon the subject was, "that he had married no end of
people."
sir Thomas Sir Thomas was nearly as fond of his
Mostyn and four-in-hand as his hounds, and nothing
the B. o. c. pjeaseci so much as to get behind a
team of old hunters, which had only been in harness
for a day or two; wait till they had done their
shindy, and drive them for their first lesson 150 miles
to his house in Wales. He was one of the B. D. C.
Club, which preceded both " The Whip" and " The
Four-in-Hand" Clubs ; and Squire Annesley, with his
strawberry roans; Mr. Harrison, with his bays; and
Sir Henry Peyton, with his greys, used to delight in
doing their twelve miles from Oxford to Benson,
down the Henley Road. Sir Thomas was not a keen
fox-hunter, and if he felt any great enthusiasm he
never showed it. Stephen Goodall used to say that
he was a good but a most provoking man, as " you
never could judge from his face whether he was
pleased or angry with the day's sport." He was, in
fact, rather idle, and a sufferer from gout, which kept
him out of the saddle for the last five years of his
life. All his horses had short tails ; and if he was
regularly put up, he would go very straight on the
chestnut Marcus, or Park Keeper, which had gra-
duated in Leicestershire. He drove down punctually
from London every April to make the draft, and
generally looked over them in the dining-room. A
few were put back the first day, the final pick
was made on the second, and the naming came
off on the third. As he then said, he had them
thoroughly in his eye, and he could have drawn them
without a mistake, when he saw them again in the
autumn.
Horn and Hound.
353
Stephen Goodall came from Quorn, Stephen
and Harry King, who was whip, with Goodall.
Will Lepper, and afterwards head-groom, rode many
hundred miles in search of suitable horseflesh for him.
Cyclops formed part and parcel of his Leicestershire
baggage, and Prince, Trinket, Convention, King
Charles, and Chawbacon, were picked up in Harry's
rounds. Ragman latterly became Stephen's cover
hack, but he never had more than four hunters at the
beginning of the season. Although they lived in a
perpetual state of sore back, he never lamed them,
and really tired them less than men of half his weight.
When a horse suited him, it generally lasted him till
it was worn out.
Ragman was too often disposed to put him down,
and wallow whenever they went through a stream.
"Coo?n tip ! coom up!" was his constant adjuration, "7
dorit want a toast in the water to-day." Trinket would
also watch for an opportunity of favouring himself,
and he would sometimes lie down when they were
breaking up their fox. Stephen made it a point never
, to get on King Charles till they had found, and then
there was a password in the hunt, " Are you all ready?
Yes, my lord;" in allusion to what Buckle had said
(touching his cap) to Lord Jersey, when his lordship
once acted as starter at Newmarket. There were
very few rides in Stephen's day, and the paths in
Claydon Woods were such an utter bog from end to
end, that if they kept changing foxes his horse soon
got beat. If any one asked him his weight, he gene-
rally replied rather angrily " About a quarter of a
ton;" but the best gauge of him and his five-foot-five
is his scarlet hunting-coat. Poor Will Goodall, who
was always a great pet with him, and just eight years
old when he died, used to produce it solemnly from
a cupboard, on state occasions, for his friends to try
on, both for warning and encouragement, and accom-
pany the ceremony with a tune on the veteran's horn.
A A
354
Scott and Sebright.
Stephen in From old association, Stephen used the
Kennel. Quorn sires in his kennel, and liked a
large hound. Seventy couple came in from quarters
in Wales his first season, and the first draft of fifteen
couple was sold to the Duke of Beaufort for 150
guineas. Lady was sent to the Quorn Sultan soon
after Stephen came, and then to Quorn Ranter, and
five and a half couple, Lucifer, Libertine, Lexicon,
Loyal, Lydia, Lovely, Lazarus, Lictor, Lashwood,
Lightning, and Lawless formed the two litters. All
of them were entered; and some of the best hounds
in England sprang from them. Lady generally ran
hare till the fox was found ; but she was beauty itself,
and her head among foxhounds was much what Rosy
Morn's is among greyhounds. Madness came into
the kennel through a bite from a strange dog, as they
were trotting along the road from one cover to
another, and nearly twelve couple had to be put
away. The rest were chained up in a large barn,
and after watching them carefully for three months,
Stephen signed a clean bill of health. -His whips
were always at the kennels at six in the summer, to
feed and clean out the puppies ; and if they were not
there at the moment, they would hear the well-known
clearing grunt, which preceded : " Young man, you
must have had fish for breakfast, and you've stopped
to pick the bones'd For the whipcord he was a most
vigorous advocate, and used to take the pack once
a week to Stowe Park, to show them the deer
and hares. His great talk was of Quorn, and his
proudest remembrance was pulling down a hedgerow
fox in the Loughboro' country, after three hours, with
a few couple of old hounds, and a most ticklish
scent. He was wont to represent himself on that
occasion as a perfect deliverer of shepherds and hen-
wives.
, Of his old Shropshire lieutenant, Tom
°m 1 00 y. 3yj;00(j^ he seldom spoke, except to say,
Horn and Hound.
355
that he thought"him fonder of fishing in the Severn
than hunting, and fonder of ale than either. One of
his stories about him was that they went into the
servants' hall for an hour or two at the meet, to wait
till the frost had got a little out of the ground.
"Now, Tom, theres something to do to-day," said
Stephen; "don the too free with the ale." "Right, I
wont, master," replied Tom. "Til sit opposite you, and
you tread on my foot if you see me getting on too fast."
So far so good ; but a Newfoundland dog, which had
crept in unobserved, pressed Tom's foot when it
shifted its position, and Tom mistaking the signal,
called out in the most injured tone, "Oh! hang it,
master ! Tve only had one horn yet /" Tom Sebright's
father made one of this memorable group of hunts-
men and whips.
Stephen lived two or three years after leaving Sir
Thomas Mostyn, and had the use of old Ragman till
his death, and a man from Mr. Villebois', for one sea-
son, and then Tom Wingfield the elder reigned in his
stead. Ben Foote helped to carry him to his grave in
If ethe churchyard ; and Griff Lloyd was rather disap-
pointed at not being asked to read the funeral service.
This curious character and Fellow of G.-ffL1 d
All Souls was the rector of Christleton, " °y '
near Chester, and curate of Newton Purcell, in
Oxfordshire. He made no sermons, but said that he
was a better man who knew how to make a good
selection, and, like old John Day, he generally fell
back upon Blair. He read them in a low impressive
tone, and never pitched his voice. They did say that
he would put off marriages and burials to suit the
hounds ; but only once was he caught napping, and
then he preached a Christmas-day sermon in February,
and never found it out till he got to the words " The
anniversary of this day." He lived with his cousin at
Chesterton, bought the hay and corn, and well earned
his title to be called the " Black Whipper-in," when he
A A 2
356
Scott and Sebright.
went to work 011 his rat-tailed Ascham (which de-
lighted him by throwing up its heels whenever he
mounted) in the woodlands. He was very faithful to
the family jacket, and whenever it won at Holywell
he would wave his stick, and hit his hack and shout
right lustily " Yellow one first!' Liverpool races he
seldom missed, and made one at the annual race ban-
quet of the " Double Dandy," who was several stone
heavier, and in fact so big that he had to wait a day
when his servant mistook the tenor of his order to
take two seats in the mail, and returned after securing
one in and one out.
GriffLiovds No one could go through such an
Power of Bear- amount of fatigue as " Griff." He would
mg Fatigue. come coach ancj chaise from Christie-
ton to Swift's house during the cub-hunting season,
get there about twelve o'clock at night, and be up and
off at four, ten miles to cover ; and he has been known
to go back to Cheshire, always on the outside, the same
night. If he was at Bainton or Swift's house he
thought nothing of riding thirty miles to Shuck-
borough Hill, home again, and then out to dinner on
a pony. Chaises on such occasions he regarded as
the merest delusions. With hounds he was very per-
severing, and always fond of getting a nick in a run.
If they were in a narrow dirty lane, he would call to
the man before him in the blandest spirit of inquiry,
" Where did you buy that horse of yours, sir V and
before he had time to answer, Griff would go to the
front of his victim, and give him the dirty reversion of
his heels. His voice in covert was magnificent, and
when the hounds were slack in drawing Stratton
Audley Gorse, which was unusually thick, the field
would look round for Griff to aid them, and after a few
of his stentorian cheers they would make it shake
again, and the fox was hallooed away in no time. The
joke he liked worst to hear of was that of the young
polecats, which Stephen Goodall did not fail to trea-
JEM HILLS.
Horn qpid Hound.
359
sure up against him, and produce at all seasons. His
terrier worried a nest of four, as he thought, near the
Bainton Kennels, and he was so proud of Vixen's ex-
ploit, that he nailed them up, and called Stephen to look
and commend. Alas ! the clearing grunt that time
again heralded the words of doom, " Well! Mr. Lloyd,\
you have done a pretty morning's work, you've killed
four cubs for us !" It was rather a bad job, as that same
season a farmer's dog scratched eleven out of a bank,
and killed them, and the farmer's tribulation was such,
that he kicked the lad who was with the dog clean out
of his yard, and declared that he " would sooner have
lost a flock of sheep." When Sir Thomas Mostyn
died, Griff took a house at Chesterton, and lived there
in the hunting season, till his health began to go. At
last a groom rode hunting with him, or he might
hardly have known his way back. Hunting was
still the theme of his discourse to the last, and
he only survived his absence from the field for two
seasons; and there never will be his " marrow"
again.
Jem Hills was born with the century, Tem Hiris
which thus did a good thing early on ;
and he whipped-in when he was ten, and marked his
pig-skin jubilee in i860, by not having a single fall
that season. The fine weather, and the pleasure of
slipping down the fifty-three miles to Didcot in some
two minutes under the hour, determined us to go
and have a quiet afternoon with him at the kennels.
On a July day, when the sun lights up the market-
hall, and those nice old-fashioned houses, there is no
pleasanter little town than Chipping Norton ; but from
its high position, no winter residence could be desired
more exactly in keeping with " the man who couldn't
get warm." Failing to find Jem at the old spot, we
turned to the left through the churchyard, where old
Zach lies ; and skirting the station we found our-
selves, after a walk of a mile, at the new kennels.
36°
Scott and Sebright.
They are more in the centre of the country than Hey-
throp, whose ruins, after so many decades of ducai
revelry and hound entries, are handed over bodily at
last to the rats and to the owls. Tar Wood is sixteen
miles distant, and Jem and his men only sleep out for
New Barns.
View from the Although there is a pretty steep road
Kennel. f-0 mount from the station, still when you
are fairly at the kennels, you seem to be in a sort of
bason among the hills. Jem, looking remarkably well,
but with his right hand tied up in consequence of an
attack of the old chalk-stone enemy, swept the horizon
for us, with the eye of a general, as we stood by his
garden wicket. " Boulter's Barn," of happy memory,
was in front of us, in the shape of a clump of trees,
clinging unobtrusively to the side of a hill; and beyond
it we were requested to believe in the existence of
Churchill Heath, on the principle of the groom who
accepted the artist's explanation, that although he
might be invisible in the picture, he was coming up
the other side of the hill.
The Heythrop For the gazer on Churchill Mount the
Covers. chain of covers which have long since
prompted the saying, " Better by half shoot a child
than kill a Heythrop fox," take up the tale, as the eye
sweeps into the opposite valley, and rests on the three
hundred acres of the Brewin, where the long and
white-legged foresters have their earths ; on Churchill
Heath, which is too damp for lying ; the oaks and the
ashes of the Norrells; but alas! on no Lyneham
Heath. Well may Jem bewail that extinct gorse in
the "Give me back my Legions" vein. "None of
your grubbing," as he invariably says to Mr. Langston's
agent, when that gentleman tries gently to lead
his mind to the great subject of agricultural improve-
ment, with axe, steam-plough, and tile : " You've
grubbed enough ; I'm afraid of you'.' Then he will
propose his annual compromise, which was repeated
Horn and Hound. 361
again that day: " You may grub up Churchill Heath
and the Norrells, and Sand Pits, if you'll give us back
only twelve acres of Lyneharn GorseOver these past,
and present battle-grounds the eye roams off once
more to Merry Mouth, and up a fine hunting vale to
Gawcombe Wood, looking like two globe-shaped
hollows, then leaving Oddington Ashes (the noted
hermitage of wild outlying foxes) to the left, and so
on to the spire of Stow-on-the-Wold, the village of the
noted May and October horse fairs. There, too, is
Seisingcote Wood, creeping up the valley towards
Evesham, and there too, almost in front of us, are the
quiet groves of Daylesford, to which, " when under a
tropical sun he ruled fifty millions of Asiatics, the
hopes of Warren Hastings, amidst all the cares of war,
finance, and legislation, still pointed," and to which he
at length retired to die. Warwickshire, Oxfordshire,
Gloucestershire, and Worcestershire all meet hard by
the Four Share Stone to the right of the Park ; and
between us and it, as we wrap up that stirring Mount
panorama, is the expanse of Kingham Field, still bear-
ing all the signs of recent enclosure, and alive with
double fertilizers and ploughs, in which the Herefords
and a few " doubtful" Shorthorn heifers are con-
tentedly toiling together.
The stables, like the kennels, are built The Kennels
of Chipping Norton sandstone, with near Chipping
rooms above for the grooms and the Norton-
whips. The geological formation of the ground
changes at this point, and the stables are on clay, and
the kennels within twenty yards of them on sand.
Save and except four clever-looking hacks, one of
which Jem considers to be the best 251, bargain he
ever made, there were no horses to be seen, as the
whole eighteen were at Little Compton,an yards and
other loose places. Mr. Charles Simmond's contract
with the hunt ceased some four or five years ago, and
ever 'since then it has horsed itself. Pamela and her
362
Scott and Sebright.
litter of Hector puppies were the sole tenants of the
loose-box of Bendigo, a great horse, but not more
loved than Sailor, Betsy Baker, and the yellow bay.
The field is on a slope, and a very beautiful one for
hounds to spread themselves over. At the bottom is
a small orchard, where they lie under the apple-trees
with Jem in the summer, and dream of rich red fores-
ters past and to come. In the snow, such is the con-
fiding or rather chaffing nature of those foxes, although
Jem has brought about a thousand brace to book in a
quarter of a century, that they sometimes come to
meet him, and a brace played such antics close up to
the kennels a few winters ago, that the whole pack
was in an uproar till Sam got up and view hallooed
the intruders away.
There was no maiden nurse about, and we merely
heard the story of Dairy Maid, who brought up five
cubs and a puppy in days when Goosey and Shirley
both adopted the system. We thought that there
would be some music in the Nathan key, after the
clouds of chaff which have descended upon Jem's
devoted head by reason of him ; and accordingly it
soon burst forth, " Talk aboiLt horses / that's a dangh-
ter of' the clothes horseI was never to get Nathans
zvith short legs!' Welcome, her sister, was not of her
stamp behind the shoulders, but it is an unspeakable
comfort to Jem that she wanted no entering. She
always joined the pack, when they came to Tackley
Heath, and made a hit down a field of swedes, which
will be mentioned in connexion with her to the end
of her days.
Jem had then hardly set his house in order, but
there in full array was the fox which got drowned in
the trap. " Two dog foxes like wolves" preserve
his race, as far as size goes, in the Forest. One of
them had already licked J em two or three times, so
that he breathed vows of vengeance on the smallest
allusion to the case. Still, amid this warfare, he is
Horn and Hound\
363
not neglecting more peaceful pursuits ; and although
he has no Young Chipping Norton eleven in training
to take the shine once more out of the crack Forest
Club, the cricket spirit which he acquired in Broad-
bridge's and Wenman's day has not died out, and
he has recently been umpire in a match at Ded-
dington.
He claimed to have four hundred foxes Heythrop
at that moment within his protectorate, Foxes,
and barring one with white toes, which he killed at
Worton Heath, he has seen no approach to hereditary
white pads lately. He rather thought of getting some
Scotch grey-hound foxes for a cross, but did not
. succeed. This failure does not seem to weigh upon
him, as, contrary to the generally received horse and
hound notions, he attributes the stoutness of his foxes
to the fact, that the blood has been kept intact for
generations. One of the patriarchs which had baffled
him most rancorously for two or three seasons came
to hand at last, after 1 hour 45 minutes from Langley
to Wroughton. The crafty old foresters of Will
Long's day would hardly recognise Wychwood now,
as, with the exception of four hundred acres at each
end, the whole of the forest has been stubbed up, and
the consequence is, that the cub-hunting, which once
began on the 1st of August, is now delayed till the
middle of September. Some of Jem's best runs have
been after a frosty morning ; and when other people
didn't hunt, the Heythrop would have their fun if
they threw off at two o'clock, and, to use his ener-
getic expression, " fairly fetched it out of the fire."
The last great Tackley Heath day of Making-up
1859-60 began at half-past one. Hunting Forty Brace,
had seemed -an impossibility, and, in fact, they dare
not draw the Great Tew country, but a clipping one
hour and thirty-five minutes rewarded them for their
pluck. Up to February 20th it was a capital season,
and they killed 39J brace, and then for their last six
364
Scott and Sebright.
weeks, do what they might, they had not scent enough
to complete their 40 brace. However, their last day
produced an old dog fox, who broke twelve times
from the top of the Forest, and at last went a four
mile gallop straight along the turnpike-road, and
brought Jem to a complete stand-still at the cross
roads. Things looked so critical that Jem, as a last
hope, proposed to Mr. Hall to go and chop a lame
fox which had been hanging for some days about a
little spinney. Still he felt sure that his hunted fox
had gone round towards Chorlbury, and that, if he
came back, he should hit him over the wall; and so it
turned out. Keeping along the wall en route to the
lame un, he heard a view halloo at last, and ascer-
tained that his fox had just gone into Boinall, so
beaten that he had to jump three times at the wall
before he could get over. The hounds could just hit
it on the grass, but could hardly speak to it in cover,
where a vixen did all the work for half-an-hour, till
at last Helena dropped across the beaten fox, and
pulled him down.
Of course, we had a cup of tea and a little con-
versation ; and of course, we found Jem in a most
" affable" mood, in every sense of the word. We
discoursed of the forest and its changes, which seems
a very delicate subject. " It's nearly all grubbed
up," he said, " and the deer killed, red and fallow;
we used to go through hundreds of them on the drives.
Lords Churchill and Redesdale have left only a bit
of it at the top and bottom, where the foxes must
fly. The old foresters get puzzled, and they can't
dwell; they get lost, and dare not touch certain
covers and go down wind. It's a blackthorn and
hazel cover, with grass. They used to put a six-foot
hedge, with thorns outside, to keep the deer out.
The foxes smeused, and the hounds would jump at
the fences, and lose their eyes or get staked and
drop into the ditch; that's done away with now,
Horn and Hound. 365
that's one little Somfort, but there's no badger hunt-
ing."
Debarred as we were from seeing Jem jem and the
at this game, we pressed him to set it Badgers,
before us, which he did as follows : " Twenty couple
are useless, if you want to kill without the brisket
dodges, they can't smother or bite him to death.
Five couple which really like it," he went on to say,
" will stick to it and catch a badger, where there are
lots of cubs about. Lord Dillon and Mr. Webb
didn't believe me, so Lord Vaux came and had a
night of it with them ; hot supper at Ditchley. We
sent a man at twelve to sack the hole. The run of
a badger is very odd 1J1JU1, and so on. We got
on to it at the bottom of the Park, and picked it out
into the Oak riding. The cubs were up, and the
vixen came squalling across the rides, after the badger
and the hounds, a hundred yards behind. We gave
him an hour and a half in the Park, and then to
ground, and brought him home at three. I used to
be with the hounds under a tree, and put a man to
sack the hole, and watch. They'd be out eating beans
like a pig. Three and four season hunters did it best.
The Rocket sort were good at that game, and Platoff
was very great. If another hound spoke to a fox, he'd
come back to me. His note for a badger was short
and deep, and for a fox light and clear. He'd bay
them, but he'd not turn them up. Plarlequin knew
the brisket dodge, and we dare not take him out.
Badgers and foxes go very well together. They tell
me that they killed nearly all the badgers in one of
the woods in Sir Tatton's old country, and that there
was one found next day, and it was lying curled up in
the earth with a fox. They're friendly enough, but
the foxes are the lazy ones, and the badgers do the
digging, and right they should. I killed nine badgers
the first season I came here, and some of them with
terriers. Once I turned one out in the frost with a
366 Scott and Sebright.
couple of my terriers, Cribb and Fan, and they shuffled
along well. They held him till I walked a couple of
miles and got a sack.
Glories of Cribb " Cribb would fight a redhot poker till
the Terrier, ft became cold; his jawbone was quite
bare; there was not a bit of under-lip, and he'd put
out a fire with his feet. That's why they called him
'The Fire Eater.' You had only to say ' Kill that
cat,' and it was done. Still he would bear any
amount of teasing, and never fought till I told him.
I kept him two years after he was blind; he would
make his bed at the badger's door, and get in next
morning, and go creeping along by the wall to find
his head. He was a biggish eighteen pound dog,
and he'd draw a cover beautifully. They would go
to his cry. I have got Jack, a great grandson of his,
now, and he'll draw and find foxes with any hound.
Never speaks to riot. Jack threw his tongue last
season, and out came a hare. Mr. Hall was there.
' Oh! Jack, Jack /' he said, ' you've made a
mis-takel Then out came a fox close under the
hedge."
Jem's Early We then tried back a little for Jem's
Days- earlier days, when "grubbing" troubles
were unknown. It seems that he whipped in to Bob
Bartlett and the Duke of Dorset's harriers at Noel
House near Sevenoaks in Kent, while Tom whipped
in to the Surrey. The Duke was a fine, tall young
fellow, of nearly six feet; and he was killed larking
a Eorse over a wall near Dublin. " I did a little
whipping-in when I was ten," said Jem, "but his
Grace would have it—he was all wrong—that I was
too little to be trusted for fear of accidents, so I was
left at home with the little grey hack, and precious
savage I was about it. I had four brothers with
hounds, we were by an earthstopper from a hunts-
man's daughter, so we couldn't be better bred. My
father was a quarryman, and stopped earths as well.
Horn and Hound.
367
IMFy word, what a hand he was, stopping all the old
quarries about Godstone ! I was with the Duke three
seasons, and wore a green coat. After that I was pad-
groom, and whipped-in to Tom with the Surrey for
seven seasons, then to Colonel Wyndham, then to the
Badminton and Lord Ducie, and so on here. I knew
this country well when I was with his Grace and Will
Long, and the hounds used to come to Heythrop
on September 16th, and the Duke on the 1st of
November, and we carried on the game till Christmas.
Then we had six weeks in the Badminton country,
'till February 16th, and then back again here till
April.
"I had the present Duke here in '57. special Day for
I had told him how fast Harlequin was, the Duke of
and his Grace said he should like to see Beaufort-
me prove my words. Mr. Hall had a special meet for
his Grace at Bradwell Grove, and we had the largest
field I ever saw out, foot and horse. I like to see foot
people, they enjoy it so, and they never interfere with
me. I've got them in pretty good training. We
killed a brace in Bradwell Grove, then we found in
Winrush Poor Lot, and ran to Aldsworth Village into
a coalhole. His Grace said, ' I should like to see this
Harlequin of yours catch a fox in six fields.' We
turned him up, and the fox came back to the top of
the wall, and all the hounds viewed him. Then he
ran a mile along a green lane near Aldsworth, and we
had a regular lay on. Harlequin led a hundred yards
out of the pack, the fox went under a wall and Har-
lequin over, up a bank to a plantation, he wrenched
and turned twice all by himself, through the fence
into the next field, and pulled him down. His Grace
said, that he ' never saw such pace in a hound before.'
It was a rare day's welcome to the present Duke, and
the hounds were as steady as beagles. Fast hounds
are the thing, give him what old Philip Payne called
' palpitation of the heart' in the first ten minutes and
368
Scott and Sebright.
you'll do. Lord Valentia says I've ' no business with
more than two couple;' and Captain Anstey's only
for allowing me one hound" He says, ' Jem knows
exactly where the fox is going with all this lifting and
telegraphingI Captain Anstey was the only one
who followed the Duke of Beaufort into his two
countries.
Blooding Future " ^ blooded the present Duke at Hey-
Masters of throp in the deer park, close beside an
Hounds. eider tree, and I did a good day's work.
The Duke was only speaking of it the other day; he
remembered all about it; he said, ' I got a good scold-
ing for giving you a slap on the face, but you did put it
on so very thick! I blooded Lord Granville, he was
master of the buckhounds then—he'll be leader of
the Lords now; he was a good deal older, so I got no
slap that time. He quite enjoyed it. When the
meets were at Heythrop, the two Mr. Baileys from
Bath, the two Mr. Worralls, Mr. Rawlinson and
Lindow, Mr. Webb of Kiddington, Mr. Evans of Dean,
and Mr. Holloway of Chorlbury, were the cracks.
The sixth Duke was among us then on his horse St.
George. Will Long had Bertha, Gimcrack, and Milk-
man then. I rode the first a little when she was five
years old. I liked a grey mare, Tilburina, best. His
Grace bred her, but she was a wicked one—the grooms
couldn't ride her, so I begged to have a try. I made
conditions, mind you, that if I killed her I was not to
be blamed ; and the Duke told me I might kill her if
I liked. She was a devil certainly at first, but I got
her to carry me as quiet as a dog horse. She was one
of the best looking ones I ever saw, and a rare gal-
loper and jumper. I never rode anything like her.
She knocked them about right and left when I had
gone, so they sent her to the stud. In '26 we hunted
the Forest only spring and autumn. There were 8000
acres of it then ; if they cut a place, they put a large
fence to keep the deer out; it was well rided, and the
Horn and Hound. 369
hounds pressed the deer hard if they got a scent.
Ditchley Wood's only half what it was. I'll tell you
what, there's only one-third of the cover left in the
country to what there was then. We used to pay
160/. a year for gorses, which are gone—Cooper's
Gorse, Hilbury Gorse, and Dunster Gorse, — all
stubbed up.
"The scent is twice as good from scent
Brewin to Northleach as from Brewin Symptoms,
to Aston, and the fleeces of the Cotswolds are better.
You know pretty well how the scent is by the hounds.
If there is a nasty blue mist, there is no scent. Even
in Gloucestershire where the scent is far better, they'll
not go into cover, make any excuse. A little black
cloud will stop them in the middle of a field ; when
you can hear well there's a scent; if it's bad hearing,
it's a bad scenting day."
Then we had the great story of the The South War-
Warwickshire killing their fox at last, wickshire's
which despite any delicacy towards Jem lnumPh-
must be given in all its details. " Well, you will have
it," said Jem, "so you must. I had always been
teazing them about never getting across the turnpike-
road, which divides our countries, and they sometimes
got quite riled, when I offered to have it sodded.
Well, Mr. Henry Greaves was master then, and poor
George Wells—a sterling good fellow and huntsman,
was George—lived with him. They found at Wool-
ford Wood, and carried a good head over Larches-on-
the-Hill, down by Cornwell, over the hill by Boulters
Barn, Sarsgrove to left, Sarsden Village ; they were
astonished to see a pack of hounds there, and Jem
not at the head of them. Then on to The Norrells,
through it, and killed him at Puddlicote Quarries.
That was enough. Mr. Greaves and George Wells,
and all of them,—it was our Hunt Meeting that day,—
they came to the White Hart and regularly had me
up before all the gentlemen, and Mr. Greaves pre-
B B
37°
Scott and Sebright.
sented me with the brush. ' Jem wouldrit sod that
lane as he promised, from Stow to Bloxam, and so he's
quite entitled to this brush! George Wells stood there
grinning, poor fellow. Then the gentlemen said, I
must of course not receive it without a speech, and
they said I ought to have a white sheet on. So I took
it, and I said, ' I'll have it mounted in silver, with an
inscription, This is the brush of the fox which took the
South Warwickshire five-and-twenty years to kill! So
I gave them it back pretty well. Mr. Greaves said,
' Well, George ! I think we'd better not have brought
it,— Jem's down on us harder than ever! I tell the
South Warwickshire men now, that I know it was
only a three-legged one out of The Norrells, and that
I've missed one since. The real truth is, if I can find
a fox on these hills and get him over that road, and
sink that fine scenting vale of theirs, when he's half
beat, I can hook him, but if they find a fox in that
Vale and bring him on to our cold hills, it's a good
reason why they lose him.
Dislike to "They say I don't like water, and they've
Water. g0^ a picture of me stepping into it. There
was a huntsman's dinner at Banbury to Wingfield,
Stevens, and myself, the farmers gave it, first-rate fel-
lows ; and they were all on me about it. I said very
well, when we're at North Aston, and the fox goes over
the brook, I'll pound you all. Going down from Dod-
dington next time, I called up my second horseman; he
was on the grey mare Julia. I said, go and stand under
the thick hedge on the opposite side of the bank from
where we draw. We drew first on Dean Hill. Cooper
and Selsby were great at water, and they said, ' Come
along down this field! There was a tree across, I
turned my black horse loose and ran across it, and got
on the grey, and George went back for the black. I
said I should go across the brook at a place where not a
man in England dare jump it, and I was right. I always
go in and out. Another time when I got to a brook I
Horn and Hound. 371
kept hallooing them on, forty or*fifty of those Oxford
boys, and I popped down to a ford 100 yards below,
and crept up the other side of the hedge ; the hounds
checked on a fallow, and I heard them say, ' We've
done him,—we've left the old un behind.' ' Have you V
I said, and I peeped through the hedge, ' The hunts-
maris here, and he don't want you to hunt them! So I
did them again.
" Poor Will Goodall was SO fond Of the Cricket Remi-
brook business. Such a carpentering he niscences.
used to have the day after they had been at Melton
Spinney with those rails at the fords, ' to keep the
tinkers out,' as he called them. He was very fond of
cricket; he went and fielded for a friend, when The
United came to Grantham. He jumped about so in
his white cord breeches ; I had great fun watching
him. I used to play a great deal; when the game
went against me the better I liked it. Old Jem
Broadbridge used to make me go in first, when things
looked odd. When Brown came to play with the
Brighton Club, we practised a fortnight throwing
balls at each other's wickets, to be ready for him. I
was one of the Petworth Club, and we went to
Brighton to play them.
" Broadbridge said, (Do go in first, Jem, they're all
afraid of these shooters.' I got three runs off Brown,
and twelve runs in all; Lillywhite bowled me. Brown
was a. great fellow, six feet high, his balls came like
bullets; they were all over the place, three long-stops
couldn't handle them. I never lost my wicket with a
catapulta, I knew how to watch the machine; I was
in with a catapulta up at the Forest, and I went and
fetched seven off it. I watched where he set it for
leg-stump, middle, or near stump. Once I took a
young Eleven to play this grand Forest Clubhand
dressed them. I lasted them out each time, and
made 130 runs. We wanted five to win. ' Dortt you
move your bat,' I said to the last man; they shouted,
B B 2
372
Scott and Sebright.
' That's not fair, Jem! I got the next over, and I got
seven, and we regularly chaffed the Club. I've not
played them since. I always leave off a winner. Once
I shot a pigeon match for 10/. a side; I won that, and
I'll shoot no more. I've played one single-wicket
match, and beat my man, and they'll not catch me at
that again. I've ridden this steeple-chase and I won,
so I may say that I've never been licked."
Clarke's With an idle afternoon on our hands,
Sanctum. ancj a dear sky overhead, we left the
train at Chippenham, and faced the io| miles, heel and
toe, to Badminton, to see that first Wonder and
Spangle entry, which united the scarlet and black
collar of Tubney, with the green plush of the Duke.
The road is nice, but too flat to be interesting; and
we were right glad to find ourselves in Acton Turvile,
and then among the pretty cottages of Badminton,
one or two of which seem perfectly clustered over
with vine and ivy leaves. We found Clarke almost
roofless, as his house was being enlarged, and he was
living in the village pro tem.; but still he stuck to his
snuggery, which seemed like a sort of oasis in a brick-
and-mortar wilderness. Mr. Morrell's well-known print
occupied the place of honour above the fireplace, on
each side of which hung the heads of Vigil and Ade-
line. Old Trumpeter, who was put away soon after
he came, looks out of canvas, in company with the
young Harlequin ; and beneath them was Trouncer, a
relic of Clarke's service with Sir John Gerard. Sham-
rock and Grimaldi, two old Berkshire friends, Hor-
lock's Statesman (sire of Friendly and Filagree), poor
Will Goodall, Hercules, and Philip Payne, found
their place as well; and there, too, was Clarke him
self on Topthorn, cheering Forester and Bobadi
of Tubney renown ; while Farmer, who died under
his first whip after a great Craven run, at Lambourne,
has left him his foot as a forget-me-not, for the side-
board.
Horn and Hound.
373
The " blue and white" scalp-board The Kennel
with its fringe of pads, pleasantly keeps Beauties of
up the connexion with Kingstown, who Badminton-
stands near the kennels, and the yearlings which were
coming forward for John Day. During the last four
seasons, the average of noses has been 73 brace, and
in the last they reached 91, the largest number, we
believe, on record. His Grace can generally count on
five hundred head of foxes in a country which is
about forty square miles in extent, and from 14 to 15
brace are killed each season off Mr. Holford's pro-
perty, which abounds with game. So much for true-
hearted and industrious keepers, and an owner who
has not one face for the master of the hounds, and
another for his own men! This year (i860) was the
first of the Tubney cross, and the result was to be
found in twelve out of the twenty-one litters, from
which the entry had been selected. Nearly 38 couple
of dog-hounds were on the flags, ranging from 23^ to
24 inches, with Hengist even slightly over that
standard. The half-faced Fleecer, Clarke's friend of
seven seasons, was there, by Fitzhardinge Furrier from
Heroine, and so back through Fitzhardinge Flourisher,
and Beaufort Fairplay to the Furrier fountain-head of
honour. There, too, was the gay-coloured Forester,
Wonder worthy in looks of his mate, and Wrangler,
Sailor, and Sportsman of Warwickshire Saffron de-
scent. Termagant and Tenderness had spoken up
elsewhere for Harlequin, who was with his sister
Honesty, the prize Tubney Cup holders in "the Her-
cules year," and blest with a remarkable head, which
marks him among ten thousand.
Limner had been put away, but his Legacy and
Loyalty were left, and so was his Paragon, straining
back to Beaufort Warlock on one side, and from a
dam the very last of the Beaufort Potentates. Sports-
man, Prodigal, Sparkler, and Whynot were among
the particulars, and Trimbush, who had been in train-
374
Scott and Sebright.
ing for the hound match. Spangle, the fifty-guinea
matron of the Tubney sale, prospered in her genera-
tion after she came to Badminton, and did her work
well as an eight-season hunter. Her rare Wonders
inherit her somewhat smutty face, and Woldsman in
his work exactly resembles her. Jack Jones bred her,
and Clarke entered her, and looked forward to raising
a pack from her when she died. She left eight
couple of them in work, and a couple of handsome
ones coming forward.
Among the matrons were Vistula and Vestal, San-
guine, and Vigil of the Warwickshire Saffron sort, in
which Clarke delights, as " there is no end of them
Wisdom, too, of the old badger-pie sort, Harriet,
Hasty, Pleasant, and Pastime, and Countess, with
Skilful, who has a deal of the old Sunderland head
and crown. It would never do to forget Friendly, the
yellow-pied Handmaid, or Caroline. There, too, was
the grey face of old Spangle, and the very handsome
Fallacy. Honesty and Toilet, both Tubney Cup
winners, were in the throng, but as yet they had
bred from neither of them; and so were Rarity and
Playful, to tell of old Remus, who had been put
away in his tenth season. Faithless by Flagrant, and
Woful by Belvoir Comus, were there with Baroness;
Seamstress was the least among that fair and good-
tempered array, and never did two sisters show better
than Waspish and Woodbine, as they passed side by
side through the wicket.
Recollections of If you ask Will Long about his old
Will Long. Badminton pack, he will generally reply
that he would lay his life down for Prophetess by
Plunder, and Tuneful by Warwickshire Tarquin.
Still Dorimont is the burden of his discourse. The
day when the sixth Duke ordered him to draw
Stowe-on-the-Wold, fifteen miles away from Bad-
minton, only twenty minutes before dark, or when the
seventh requested him to bring out Milkman in a
Horn and Hound.
375
frost, and lark him over some flights of hurdles in
the straw-ride, are still specially marked in his
memory, but not more than the work of the old dog
in Ditchley "Woods, when he had been for months on
the retired list. His blood comes up in all the best
strains in the kennel. Rufus and Remus have it
through their dam Rarity by Rutland, a capital son
of his, and it can be traced in Wonder through Fear-
nought to Gaiety. Remus was the cleanest in his fore-
hand, but Rufus had most power, and was nearest the
ground, and decidedly the best of the two, and the
Duke of Rutland and Sir Richard Sutton used him
freely.
Mr. Childe of Kinlet first began hard- The Dawn of
riding in Leicestershire, to Mr. Meynell's Leicestershire,
great disgust; and after Lords Forester and Jersey
came with " the splittercockation pace," he declared
that he " had not had a day's happiness." He and
Tom Tit knew no troubles till then, and his horses
used to rear on their hind legs, and jump gates and
stiles standing, in the most sober and comfortable
way. In fact, it was the regular Musters' regime;
getting through a country, and not over it. The
Bull's Head and The George of Loughboro' were the
head-quarters, and a hundred horses would go past
the window in the morning to cover. Mr. Meynell
hunted the whole of the original Quorn country, from
Clifton Gardens near Nottingham to Market Har-
borough, thirty miles away, and the Leicester harriers,
whose patrons met once a week at The Bell, enjoyed
themselves under his wing and got his small draft.
Mr. Cholmondley, Sir Stephen Glynne, Sir Harry
Featherstone, and Prince Boothby were great at
Loughboro', and Brooksby Gate was the first meet of
the season in November. Gradually Melton was dis-
covered to be more central, and the attractions of the
Belvoir and " Lord Lonsdale's Tuesdays" brought
Loughboro' to g-rief, and the opening day to Kirby
376
Scott and Sebright.
Gate, which for sixty years never lacked Mr. Sheldon
Cradock's presence on horseback, and at last in a
chaise.
The Quom Fourteen masters — Sefton, Foley,
Country. Smith, Osbaldeston, Bellingham Graham,
Osbaldeston, Southampton, Goodricke, Holyoake, Er-
rington, Suffield, Hodgson, Greene, Sutton, and Stam-
ford—have reigned since. Still through all the changes
of tillage and draining, Sixhills, Shoby, Widmerpool,
and Willoughby held the best scent then, and hold
it still. The Forest still continues to be what Mr.
Meynell said of it, "the finest scenting country in
the world and the best for breaking young hounds.
The only part of the old enclosure is Charley,
which remains the, same as it did in 1800. All was
then an open sheep-walk of heath and stone, and
without any fence or even a tree, save a few hazels
and oaks, for miles. The foxes were as wild as
hawks, and were generally found among the Whitwick
rocks near the present Monastery, where Mr. Meynell
and his men would dig for hours. The four M's of
the Old Club and Mr. Cradock of Loughboro' gradu-
ally took the management of the covers, and the sub-
scriptions when Mr. Assheton Smith had the hounds
and about 3500/. a year, were paid as punctually as a
bank dividend. " The Blue Coats" were in their
glory, and among them " Gamboy Henton" who
spoke to his own nose down a drain, when Meynell's
Gamboy could not. These flyers would " hardly
open their mouths under two hundred and Jona-
than King of Beeby would take a horse out of his
stable for no one. " Come and ride him" he used
to say, " and if you like him, three hundred's my
price I'
Mr. Assheton For his tackle, Mr. Smith still stands
Smith. confessedly the first man across Leices-
tershire, and except Sir David Baird very few at-
tempted to go so straight. The fences were higher
Horn and Hound.
377
then, and no caps were worn, and both of them
would have their clothes torn off their backs, and
their flesh from their faces, rather than not go every
inch of the way with hounds. As Tom Heycock
used to observe of Sir David, " If he did get a fall, and
you thought he was out of the run, he would always
pop up by your side." Mr. Smith brought his little
horse Benjie into the country, and as he said then,
so he said to the last, that Jiis present horse was his
best.
It was another of his axioms, that the Hunting-field
great secret was "learning how to gallop," Habits,
and he had to put out his highest proficiency on the
Mondays, when Messrs. Rawlinson and Lindow would
invariably come to ride against him. " He would
often ride for a certain fall, when he wanted to make
a.cast," and no one knew how to fall oft'better. He
studied it as a science, and when his horse was at all
blown, he always sent him at timber a little aslant, so
as to get free of him easier if he made a mistake.
People knew what unmade, uncertain-tempered brutes
he rode, and when he did something quite out of the
common, they cheered him. This made him very
tenacious, and if any one followed him over any of
those " sensation jumps," he was quite crabbed and
seldom forgot it. One man he was never jealous of
under any circumstances. Speaking of the finish of a
run he said, "No one was there but myself; " and
when some one suggested Tom Gamble, he replied,
" Oh, hes nobody ; he's akvays there."
He once rode against Sir James Musgrave, near
Clawson, in the days when hunter pairs were all the
fashion at Melton Thorns, but Sir James changed his
black without his observing it, and jumping the
locked gate at the bottom, left him pounded and in a
fearful passion. From Broderip Oak over the Vale
to Lydiard Wood, was another of his great rides,
when Lord Kintore had the V. W. H., and he was
37B Scott and Sebright.
gracious enough to say to his lordship, " Well! old
friend, you had just the best of it /" Be the country
what it might, he never gave it a thought, and Mr.
Davis always says that he was " the best stag hunter
of us all," when he went into the New Forest.
The Biiiesdon One of his greatest Leicestershire leaps
Brook Leap. was the Biiiesdon Brook, which he leapt
in a place where it was a regular ravine. The bank
had rather curved in, and it required at least thirty-four
feet to cover it, and a plashed hedge on the opposite
side. The field saw him coming up the turnpike from
the Coplow to Biiiesdon ; and for the first time in his
life nursing his horse. He knew what was before him,
and then rushing through the crowd like a bullet, he
went at it determined to do something tremendous ;
but Lord Aylesford followed him, and got over with
a slight scramble on the other side. Dick Christian
jumped the same brook, on Mr. Maxse's grey King of
the Valley in his steeple-chase, and the measurement
from hind foot to hind foot, was thirty-six feet. All
Mr. Smith's escapes were as nothing compared to one
of his friend Mr. Coke's when he went to stay with
him in Hampshire. Seeing a nice practicable fence, he
charged it, but not only found himself dropping all in
a heap into a deep lane, but right in front of a horse
and cart. This vision so startled the horse, that it
dashed forward, and drew the cart right over the legs
of Mr. Coke's hunter, as it lay on the ground, and
lamed it for many a week after.
Training Little Mr. Smith seemed to relax towards no
Will Burton. one so much as Mr. Greene, whom he
considered his best pupil, and there was also an ex-
ception in favour of little Will Burton. He deter-
mined to give Will his first lesson, when he was little
more than four stone. Putting him on one of his
steadiest hunters, he observed by way of prelude,
" Boy / if you don't stick close to me, you 11 never
see your mother again! " Having made this first
Horn and Hound.
379
and last appeal, he proceeded to give him a lead over
some hog-backed stiles, and chose one so close under
a tree, that the little fellow's hat was knocked off. In
a minute his master was down picking it up. " Rare
fun this, boy, isn't it?" "Yes, master," said Young
Hopeful, " but if we don't look sharp, we wont see the
hounds again?' The retort suited his grim humour to
a nicety, and he chuckled at the thoughts of it long
after poor little Will was in his grave.
At that time, the hounds spent alter- will's Hound
nate three weeks between Quorn and Education.
Bowden Inn, where Lord Plymouth, Mr. Maxse, and
Mr. Maher also sent their horses, and Mr. Smith told
the story of the hat so well at Serlby, that the hero of
it was summoned to be looked over and tell his weight.
This occurred so often afterwards that Will began to
think that " master will never have done showing me
to the ladies." In other respects he was a precocious
pupil, and in his leisure hours he clipped his master's
cat. It came up as usual to be stroked by Mr. Smith
at stable hour, and an inquiry soon fixed suspicion on
the culprit, who said he " thought it would make her
handsome." We do not know whether the punish-
ment, blended as it was with the deepest instruction,
would suit the authors of the Revised Code, but it
simply consisted in writing out and then spelling over
to his master, twenty of the hardest hound names in
the pack.
Old Tom Wingfield, who had a peculiar -habit of
always catching his horse up, before he took a fence,
never got on with Mr. Smith in kennel. Tom smoked
morning, noon, and night; he did so at eighty-
seven. Hence " Send tliat fellow to me, when he's
sure he's done his pipe',' was the general form of
cabinet council summons. There is a good deal of
truth in what Dick Burton always says to George
Carter, " I had the lion, you had the lamb," as Mr.
Smith grew much milder latterly, and he took the
Scott and Sebright.
dog-hounds into the open, and George the lady pack
and the puppies into the woods, without at all interfer-
ing with each other. There never was a better man
to get away from a big wood. He would not speak a
word after they found. There was no " Whey ! con-
found the horse f as with Mr. Codrington (when it
wasn't stirring an ear), but he kept quietly moving in
the ridings; and when they broke he was at them
like a shot.
Mr. Hames of In Leicestershire, Mr. Hames of Glenn
Glenn- was his great hound secretary. He would
put out twenty couple of puppies for him, and go
round twice a week to shepherd them. " If you don't
keep the one well," he used to say, " I'll send you
two ; and if you don't keep the two well I'll send you
the dam and the whole litter." His good humour
had its effect, and they came in from quarters like
bacon pigs. Mr. Hames's enthusiasm did not die out,
and they used to say in Mr. Osbaldeston's day, that
if he heard Dick Burton crack his whip as a signal on
passing through the village, he would have run out
of church from a wedding or a funeral. A fox with
a mangy brush and loins in Shankton Holt was a
great card with him, and he named him "Jack."
"I'll back old Jack to-day" was his offer, directly
they found ; and they never could succeed in killing
him.
" The Squire" in It was in Lincolnshire that "The
Lincolnshire. Squire," after a capital season up to
Christmas Eve, underwent all the agonies of " the
great frost," which never broke up again till past the
middle of February ; when hunting men felt like the
exiles of Siberia. After that, he had three things
good enough to make the fortune of a season, one of
them with scarcely a check seventeen miles from
point to point, with Jim Wilson and Tom Sebright
cheeking him all the way over Tower Moor, to keep
him out of the Heath. It was all grass and no
Horn and Hound. 381
plough in Lincolnshire then ; drains have now made
the top of the soil light; and sheep no longer rot
almost up to their hocks in water, so that the labours
and difficulties of those days must not be judged of
by the standard of the present, when there is a stable
of 70 or 80 hunters to pick from and sometimes
120 couple of hounds out at quarters,
The picture of Dick Burton and the The Osbaideston
hounds is the key, as far as sires go, to the Hound-blood,
finest Osbaideston blood. Dick is not on the Big
Grey, which "had always one spur in him, and the other
never out of him," but Cervantes, one of his own
making. Walton Thorns has just been drawn blank, and
Vanquisher by Musters's Proctor, always one of the
last out, comes up flying a stile. He was one of the
most beautiful dog-hounds at Quorn, not so fast as
Furrier, and, like him, he never smeused. The
farmer who walked him at Hutton Bushell sent him
in with the comment, that he ought to be a very good
hound, as " he had eaten the mistress's prayer-book
one day." The old black and white Vaulter lies
down near the yellow-pied Pilgrim, " such a dog for
ribs and thighs, and eight inches round the arm," who
looks wistfully up in Dick's face, waiting for the word
to move on to Mundy's Gorse. His sire, Rocket by
Vernon's Rallywood, also shows those grave, long
features, which were such a type of his road wisdom,
and Furrier comes cantering up to the group, in which
Mindful, his companion in the Belvoir draft, bears
part with Nabob " an owdacious stinger, with a true
Brocklesby head." The yellow-pied Hermit bears
testimony to a Beaufort draft, and there, too, are
Primrose, and Rosebud, the faithful consort of Furrier,
and one with Rocket in the Vernon pack purchase.
The little terrier Nettle is almost the " dearest of them
'a" to Dick. Her dam used to ride to cover in Lord
Middleton's carriage, but Nettle despised all such
help. Dick often tells how she was somehow or other
382
Scott and Sebright.
always first, second, or third over the rides for an
hour and twenty minutes in Martinshawe Wood, and
then pitched' in to her well earned fox for the first
time; how she went in at a badger with her legs
under her, when she had hardly a cheek-tooth
left, and how she honourably retired when "The
Squire" had jumped upon her at the last fence but
one before the fox went to ground after a very fast
thing.
The Squire's Blood rather than size was "The
Hound Tastes. Squire's" aim in kennel. Four couple
and a half of Rockets, none of them less than four
season hunters, three couple of Vanquishers, and 26^
couple of Furriers, were the cream of the pack,
when he went to the Pytcheley. Over the great grass-
fields of Kelmarsh and Oxendon, the " Furrier ladies"
for two seasons especially, were in their greatest glory.
He had made them so handy, that at a signal they
would divide in their cast, but latterly they were
always flashing over the scent, when their fox doubled
back, or dodged ; and four or five scurries with dif-
ferent foxes, too often made up the journal entry at
night. When they did settle to one, and blew him up
in the open, " The Squire" might well say, " they
don't fly like pigeons, they fly like angels."
The Squire's Never was he known to go in a car-
Scorn of riage to cover ; and he never seemed to
Fatigue. know what fatigue was. " If you will
have two horses, you shall have two packs a day," he
said to the Quornites, and as he never went to sleep
after dinner, he wouldn't have objected to a turn with
a third by moonlight. Tommy Coleman, who often
cut in for a half-mile gallop at his side during the
eight hours and forty minutes of his great Newmarket
match, declared that he could see no difference in him
at the 20th and 200th mile ; and yet some of his
horses, old Guildford especially, pulled hard. He
rode it a race all the way, standing up in his stirrups.
Horn and Hound.
383
There was always quite a set-to at the end of each
four miles; and he would blow any one up if they
attempted to help him on to his fresh horse. When
all was over, he insisted on riding into the town, and
Mr. Gully was so grieved at seeing fine training and
stamina so fearfully taxed, that he said, " Really,
Squire, you ought to have a whip over your shoulders
/or taking such liberties with yourself!"
An aci*e of manuscript might be filled M , .
with the sayings and doings of the hard- e oniana'
riding men of Melton, back to the days when Ralph
Lambton was treasuring up for Durham County use
. every waif and stray that fell from the lips of his St.
Htigo; or when Lord Sefton set the whole country
talking, by jumping the Decoy Brook near Bunny on
his grey. He carried top weight about 20st., and won
in a tremendous fast thing of 20 minutes, " a stone a
minute," as he afterwards said.
Then there was General Grosvenor, General Gros-
equally quaint in his way at Newmarket venor-
or at the meet, where he would sometimes arrive from
Brooksby, with a perfect cloud of grooms after him,
by way of giving his hunters exercise. "You ride no
more for me," he said to " The Vicar" after he had
ridden Daedalus, " you lay so far out of your ground,
you nearly frightened Mrs. Grosvenor to death." A
dislike to sleeping out was another of his leading
features. A bed was at his service after he had dined
out in the Cottesmore country, but he could not
make up his mind. At last he sent for the house-
maid, who was a woman of short stature, and asked
when it had been slept in ? " I slept in it, General,
only last night," said she. " You slept in it ?" he re-
plied, looking her well over; "you're not big enough to
air a bed: order my carriage."
WIC V/m V-'iU L/j dHvl UlLi lllw CUllCC'llUUbC
part of the business" by keeping men together, and
Mr. John Moore.
384
Scott and Sebright.
gathering in the subscriptions quite early in the
season. He was a thin man with long legs, and
" daylight knees" in his saddle, and always a quiet
rider. Like most of the men of that period, he never
liked to be asked too little for a horse. Wright of
Syssonby offered him one in the spring at rather a low
figure, but he returned him after a trial, and a dealer
bought him. The next season Wright espied his old.
friend at Thorpe Trussells ; and it was a perfect bit
of news for Mr. Moore, when he was told " You're
sitting, sir, on the same horse you were on at the end
of last season ; I suppose I asked you a hundred too
little." He was also a little of an epicure, and his friends .
used to tell him that they had heard his Shorthorn
soliloquies at cattle shows : " I should like to have a
rumpsteak out of you." Once he was regularly taken
in when he was yachting abroad. He found, as he
thought, a young lamb tethered to a stake, and gave
five shillings for it. He had as it seems forgotten
the size of the sheep of that country, and only
thought of the Bakewells, and it turned out, as he
said, with disgust, to be " an old tup, and as strong as
a Billy Goat."
Lord Alvaniey. . "Harden your hearts and tighten your
girths, was Lord Alvaniey s great watch-
word at the "View Halloo," and it was magnificent to
see him go over the first half-dozen fences. Twenty
minutes was his allowance, or about five more on an
average than Lord Sefton. He butchered his horses
along when they would go, spurs well home and reins
slack; and Prick Ears understood him best. Once,
when he was on his white horse, they found at Whis-
sendine Pastures, and as all the steam was in him, he
came right out of the crowd, and had the brook first.
The horse got in and plunged his lordship's hat to
the bottom, and to the end of the day he persevered
on bare-headed, and with his horse perfectly black,
or rather pyebald from the slush. He had a skew- .
Horn and Hound.
385
ball, but the weight did not suit him, and his "lordship
announced after one ride, that he was sure that " the
horse would commit suicide rather than carry him
again."
A woodland day he abhorred. " What sport have
. you had to-day, Alvanley?" said one of his friends
when he met him coming home rather glum. " Oh !
beautiful, we've been up Tilton Wood, and down
Tilton Wood, and through Tilton Wood, then we went
away from Tilton Wood, and back again to Tilton
Wood, and they'll very likely finish at Tilton Wood."
On another day, he declared that he had been quite
beaten in the " Whole Art of Riding made Easy," by
a Circus man from Leicester, who came out to see the
fun in a property scarlet, and on an old grey trick-
horse. Near Quenby Hall, the man pretended to
ride at a gate, and when the horse stopped short, he
threw himself over his head, and made such a series of
somersaults that the field thought that he and his top-
boots would never come to earth again. Spending,
his lordship termed " realizing," and defied any one to
give a more philosophical definition of it; and when
his servant told him that he was sorry to say that the
corn-factor had turned awkward at last, he asked what
was the state of his confectioner's mind, and on learning
that it was favourable, he said, " Oh ! that will do :
give 'em biscuits /" His finest stroke of policy was
when he gave away a whole boat-load of coals to the
poor of Melton, and the inference from this liberality
was so favourable, that he had a roaring credit
for months, at the expense of the Navigation Com-
pany.
Be it Erin-go-Bragh or Shugaraoo, or Mr. Maher's
anything else, Mr. " Paddy" Maher never " old Tommy."
used anything but a snaffle. Mr. Frank Forester in-
troduced a great change into the cover horse system,
as he generally rode his own there, and this prevented
the grooms from running riot as of yore. In Old
C C
386
Scott and Sebright.
Tommy, Mr. Maher had a veritable treasure, as he
seemed to have a private key to the run of every fox.
He was such a wizard that Mr. Burton ordered his lad
never .to keep his eye off him, and go exactly where
he did. Old Tommy was indignant at this, and when
he could not shake him off, he pulled up, and sitting
down on a gate began to read the newspaper. The
lad thought that Tommy would be lost that day, and
rode on; but when he was wanted, the veteran was
there to a minute, and Mr. Burton had to look
into space for his second horse. The lad explained
matters, and acted so rigidly in future up to his
directions, " If Tommy gets on to a gate to read the
paper, get up beside him, and ask him to edify you
as well as himself," that Tommy and he became fast
friends.
Mr. Mayer There was a story against Mr. Maher
Outwitted. 0f the way jn which he tried to trick Old
Tommy, who was on a horse with about the same
walking pace as his own. He held that going on one
side of a wood was much shorter than the other, and
sent Tommy to come along it with the strictest injunc-
tion not to break from a walk; but seeing from an
opening in the wood that he was making as good time
as himself, stealthily started to canter. Tommy saw
it and did the same, and got to the meeting place first.
Mr. Maher was exceedingly angry, and was not at all
satisfied with the explanation, that Tommy had
seen him canter just after he came to the wood
corner, and saw no possible harm in doing the
same.
sir Francis Bur- Many compared Sir Francis Burdett's
dett seat on Sampson to a pair of compasses
across a telescope. He cared little for personal com-
forts, and his Westminster and provincial supporters
who believed (after they had seen him seated at a
window teaching it to his boy), that he did nothing
but study Magna Charta all day, would have hardly
Horn and Hound.
387
known "Old Glory" as the fox-hunting devotee in
in those two little rooms which had once been part of
the stables, at Kirby Hall, or dining out after hunting,
and stopping all night in his dirty but historical top-
boots. He had a soul for subscribing as well as hunt-
ing; and he and Lord Plymouth each gave 400/.
to the Quorn. In fact, if he only hunted once in a
season, he gave 200/., and Mr. Sheldon Cradock tells
no story with more zest than how, on hearing of cover
wants, he asked for his two hundred cheque back,
when that gentleman called on him in London, and
wrote out a new one for three.
Dr. Russell and Smasher were Sir sir Harry Good-
Harry Goodricke's best horses. The ricke-
latter went with his head up, and his ears nearly in
his rider's face, looking as if he saw nothing, and yet
seeing everything. It was, in fact, hardly possible for
him to make a mistake. Dr. Russell's head, on the
contrary, was set on very differently, but he was one
to which Lord Lonsdale's saying applied, " I don't dis-
like a horse that pokes his nose out if he has a strong
neck, and can't throw his head into your face." Mr.
Coke brought him into the country, and could make
nothing of him, as he always rode him in sharp curb
bits.' He then lent him to Tom Heycock for part of
a season, and he trained him in a snaffle on his Owston
Farm, which was too strongly fenced for anything but
a hunter to get over. Sir Harry rode one of his sons
afterwards, and the likeness to his sire was very
striking.
Tom Heycock, who first acquired his Doing Tom
fine decision as to line and fences on Heycock.
" The Pony," used often to handle these awkward cus-
tomers, and as he was so accustomed to be rolled over,
and " see the sun, moon, and stars in full illumination,"
as he phrased it, the Meltonians felt no delicacy in
asking him to get on. Sir James Musgrave was espe-
daily fond of the fun, and after he had seen him put
C c 2
388
Scott and Sebright.
one of his young horses over half-a-dozen fences, and
had him reported as " a little queer," he replied, " I
should be surprised if he was not, he's never been over
one before, but I thought it made no matter to you."
Lord Lonsdale used to give Tom many a quiet lecture,
when he was a boy, for being so forward, and said that
he and " The Pony" (for which Mr. Coke refused 500/.
after giving 50/.) were "just like a brace of wild
hares."
Old Snow Snow, the farmer of this period,
was like nothing else that ever was
created. He knew nothing about
" Harry of Ribstone, success to his reign,"
and cared still less. When he saw the hounds coming
to draw John o'Gaunt, he would turn out grinning
like a hyaena, with all his household, men and
women, pans and pitchforks, and loose the yard dog
as well, to prevent the fox breaking on his side. Sir
Harry sent him the usual game compliment among
the rest, but he sent back to say, that he " would not
sell his birthright for a mess of red pottage." Nothing
daunted by this message, Sir Harry forwarded two
gallons of gin, and then he said that the donor was
"the finest man in the world ;" and should come just
when he liked. But these times and prospects of a
master for life were too good to last. Sir Harry's
illness began with a violent cold, which he caught
deer-stalking in Scotland ; and when he came back
the next season, his friends knew when he greeted
them that his hand had lost its firmness, and was as
shrivelled as a washerwoman's; and although he
struggled on with all his innate energy, they never
saw him looking well again.
Mr. Hoiyoake. Mr- Holyoake lived with Sir Harry
when they first came to Melton from the
Burton country, where their friendship commenced.
It was this lucky legatee's hunting principle that a
Horn and Hound. 389
good start, and twenty-five minutes best pace, was
long enough for any man and any horse. A friend
asked him one day whether he would like them to kill
their fox at the end of it, and he replied, " Yes ! if
it's a satisfaction to the master of hounds; but it's
none at all to me'.' He brought Clinker into the
country, and the bay gave Captain Ross, who bought
him, four falls the first day he rode him. He had a
very long stride, and was bad in dirt; and if anything
came upon him suddenly, he as often as not put his
foot in it, and his rider down.
Captain White graduated with " The r . w,.
Squire" in Lincolnshire, and was the ap am 1 e"
friendly go-between, who arranged that he should
purchase Quorn from Mr. Assheton Smith. His first
day in Leicestershire was on " The Widow," at Scrap-
toft, and they had eight minutes from The Laurels,
very sharp, to ground. They went back and found
again, and had eleven miles. Mr. Smith saw the
mare and her young rider so forward, that although
his temper went from being bogged almost imme-
diately after, he did not forget it. The next time they
appeared was in a very fast thing from Billesdon
Coplow to Slawston Windmill. Only five were left
in at last, and when Mr Smith saw his brook ac-
quaintance down, he caught his mare for him, and
only gave him a warmish exhortation to be quick, as,
with scarcely a breath left in him, he staggered over
a fallow.
Putting up horses for auction at the putting-up
Old Club was quite a business each Hunters at the
night. Parties were often made on old Club'
purpose, and after a couple of bottles of claret, business
became quite brisk. Each owner had one reserve
bid, and it was quite a sight the next morning to
watch the different horses change stables, to the great
bewilderment of the grooms. Several were very sweet
on The Widow the first day she came out, and "four
39°
Scott and Sebright.
hundred" was put under the candlestick. The Cap-
tain's reserve bid was a hundred above that sum, and
after the Billesdon Coplow day, Lord Middleton did
not scruple to close for her. Mistakes frequently
arose from the habit of having hunters of the same
colour and style. Sir James Musgrave, who would
give good prices at the end of the season for horses he
had seen go well, had three greys, by Fitzjames (for
which he paid a thousand guineas to a Shropshire
man), so alike that the grooms and their owner only
knew them; and Captain White had two equally
" winsome marrows," in his dark chestnuts. The
Quorn had had a very fast forty minutes, and the
Captain had been in the front rank as usual with one
of them, and come a tremendous cropper into a green
lane. Luckily his groom was close at hand with the
other, and as not a soul knew of the change, it was
sold for four hundred at night.
Harlequin Harlequin, by Sir Oliver, was the best
horse venture the Captain ever made,
and was bought out of a Derbyshire team, for 100/.,-
when he was four years old. He had two splints his
first season, but the bone grew up to them, and his
action and blood made him quite equal to fourteen
stone. He made his debut at Easton Wood, and a
few of them had two miles over the plough and back
before the field knew what was going on ; and they
then changed foxes, and ran to Wood well Head. The
style in which the horse had jumped on and off a little
bulrush island, during the run, got so bruited about,
that when Lord Plymouth heard of it, coupled with
Mr. Standish's report of his action across ridge and
furrow, he determined to have him at any price. It
was eventually agreed that he should give Pedlar and
a 900/. cheque for him ; and as the Captain sold the
latter for 250/., he made a clear thousand guineas of
his horse. His lordship had got four falls off his
400-guinea Assheton, the first time he rode him, and
Horn and Hound.
39i
was glad to sell him to Mr. Holyoake; but he never
repented buying Harlequin, and vowed after riding
him for seven seasons, that he was the only one he
ever liked. He was a perfect snaffle-bridle horse, and
the only instructions the Captain gave with him were,
" Don't bully him, my lord ; hold him nicely for three
fences, and then sit down on him, and send him along."
From hip to tail he was all muscle, and Mr. Gilmour
said of him, that he " only seemed to gallop over an
ox-fence/' There is, however, always a set-off to luck,
and his brother Jupiter met his death, by a stake
running into his chest, just as the hounds were killing ;
and General Grosvenor insisted on giving him honour-
able burial in the centre of the middle riding in
Stockersten Wood.
What Harlequin or Merry Lad might Mr Maxse
have said to it is a different thing, but Pounding a
even the Captain and Admiral Berkeley* CouPle-
confess that Mr. Maxse with all the weight fairly set
them over four oak rails, at the corner of Harlesdon
Wood. Cognac, who took them with his chest, drew
the stumps right out of the ground, and his rider
looked back when the crash was over, and said, "Ah!
I always thought you were a pair of soft ones /" This
was the third 01* fourth flight of rails which Cognac,
who was very fresh after a frost, and in one of his
rushing humours, had served out that day. Mr.
Campbell, of Saddell, had introduced him into his
Melton song, and therefore he was more talked of;
but Mr. Maxse was quite as fond of Treacle and the
Baron, both of which he purchased from Sir Belling-
ham Graham ; and it was for the latter that Captain
Ross, who yearned to be the steeple-chase champion,
offered him a thousand guineas in vain.
Captain White bought Merry Lad from M T .
Mr. Tilbury, for 200/.; but although he
* Now Lord Fitzhardinge,
392
Scott and Sebright.
did not go the length of Lord Cardigan's Dandy, who
danced about on his hind legs, and flew at everything
at the cover side, till they were obliged to bring him
in blinkers; he was very restive at first, and required
to be flogged out of the yard. His great day was one
from Thorpe Trussells, by Great Dalby to Rolleston,
where they killed in a ditch. He played first fiddle
with the Captain for some twelve seasons, when Alice
Grey took his place, and he was used in harness at
last.
The Captain at To see the Captain starting for the
Croxton and Scurry at Croxton or Heaton Park, and
Heaton Park. cajpng the young ones to order at the
post was a very grand sight, and often in the middle
of the race, a series of most sonorous Tally-hoes were
heard from the same quarter, to make the impetuous
ones go a little faster. Dick Christian has already
told of the Waste Walk on the Kettleby Road ; but
the Captain had harder work than that when he had
to get off iolbs. in two days for Theodore, when he
was staying at Heaton Park. During the last two
miles of one walk, he was so beat, that in order to
have something to force the running, he picked up
a bag-piper, and was marching in state behind him up
the flower-garden on his return, with a face like a
furnace, when the house party encountered him.
Mr. Greene, of Besides profiting by the countless
Rolleston. riding hints which he received from
Mr. Assheton Smith, when he first came out, Mr.
Greene went into strong practice on off days, over his
own Rolleston estate. He would invite parties to
course there, and mounting one of his best hunters,
ride so close up to the dogs, that at times their owners
would be a little nervous lest he should jump on to
them. He negotiated the ox-fences and wide ditches
with which the estate abounds so brilliantly, that dog
owners often said, that to see him at work was worth
all the sport among the hares.
Horn and Hound.
393
His hand and seat were so light, that G. , ,0.,.
he went by the name of " The Fly," and S'y'e °f 1<,dl"g'
he seemed to tell his horse more by knee-pressure
than anything, exactly what he expected of him.
"When he came out cub-hunting within the last two
or three seasons, on a little chestnut, " Nat" (which
Mr. Richard Sutton had bought from its namesake at
Newmarket), the finest horsemen thought it quite a
head-and-hand' lesson to watch him gradually soothe
the little gentleman, which would fly and kick about
in every direction, into a quiet canter. Horse hand-
ling was a science he had quite thought out, and we
remember well his delight when we sat with him, the
last time we ever met, at the Alhambra, and saw Mr.
Rarey have his first interview with King of Oude.
He always said that he endeavoured to make his
horses take their fences a trifle aslant, and he " came
up to them," as a first flight friend writes us, " with
bounding strokes to the last, when he slackened his
rein, and allowed them to exert their full power, the
fling almost invariably bringing him safely into the
next field."
Latterly he hunted about two or three The Riding of
days a week, in a quiet sort of way, but llis Later Years.
enjoyed it as much as ever. In fact, he said that in
one or two runs he had " never ridden more up to the
mark when he was one-and-twenty," and nothing gave
him greater pleasure than a remark of Lord Gardner's:
" I say, Greene, you're cutting the young uns dozvn!'
He had a great " eye forward" for hounds, and stoutly
carried out the maxim, never to take timber if you
can avoid it. He repeated this to Goddard (who was
riding side by side with him in a fast thing by
Holt), and Jack often tells how beautifully he suited
the action to the word, and popped his horse through
the hedge close by the gate-post and into the front
rank in an instant.
The white Glanagyle, which was given to him by
394
Scott and Sebright.
His Horses ^r" Otway Cave, was his cover hack for
nearly fifteen seasons. He always rode it
in the Park when he came to town, and it finished
out its days with Sir Frederick Fowke. He seldom
kept more than six hunters, and was not given to
change. " The bay mare" never had a name ; and
after her, Muley, of whom he records in 1835, "I
was never carried better in my life," and Don
John " very clever," were in force about 1837,
Fanny, Asparagus, and Symmetry were in his
stables together ; Syssonby stood very high with him ;
Phantom, who was out of one of his own mares, won
a Hunter's Stake at Northampton ; and Alice Grey,
little Piccolo, and the water-loving Mrs. Caudle carried
him to the front, during his memorable mastership.
The first was given away to a tenant, and Mrs.
Caudle was bought in for 230 gs., when half worn out,
and carried him .for some seasons after that.
His Hunting He kept a rough journal of every day
journal. he was out 5 a little limp-backed red
book, tied with a red ribbon. The entries till he be-
came master seemed very slight, and those who expect
to glean much of what took place in 1835-39 would
search in vain. With Mr. Hodgson's two seasons, his
writing ardour seems to have been quickened, although
once or twice we detect a mere pencil entry, the gist
of one of which is, " rode Norton, a fall." " Rolleston,
lots of foxes" occurs several times, but the great
Assheton Smith day of 1840 has merely these three
lines : " Assheton Smith, met at Rolleston, we had about
two thousand horses and thirty carriages, Prince Ernest
present, rode Don JohnHowever, a Leicester news-
paper extract, pasted into each end of the book,
puts the flesh on to this skeleton entry. Among the
more varied entries are "stopped the hounds in conse-
quence of a mad dog" Laughton Hills, excellent
day, was on my horse twelve hours " Coplow, only
our old fox, plenty at Barkby Holtand then comes
Horn and Hound.
395
" Kilby Wharf, found one of the best foxes I ever
saw." " Waterford's hounds at Somerby, turned out
a stag, rode Norton," shows that steady and orthodox
as he was, he could not resist a peep at " The Wild
Huntsman," and " I hour 45 minutes" was his reward.
Two runs with Mr. Hodgson's seem to have delighted
him most in the whole of the seven years' chronicle,
which we have glanced at. One of them, January 20,
1840, is described as "a great run, two hours from
the Coplow, killed, one of the finest runs I ever saw, car-
ried brilliantly by Harlequin." To the other, of
December 9, 1840, he applies the terms, " best run I
ever saw ; ran from Thorpe Trussells to Spinney at
Rolleston Brook, 52 minutes. From Halstead to
Rolleston not a horse within a half-a-mile of them, 22
couple, and all up ; rode my grey mare, and she had
decidedly the best of it, and not beat."
Latterly he rather leant to the belief His Great Thorpe
that a run in his own mastership from Trussells Run.
Thorpe Trussells to Rolleston Gorse, was perhaps the
best of the two, and Tom Heycock is with him on
the point. There were twelve horses in Twyford
Brook, and full fifty per cent, of the remainder were
beaten off in Tilton Bottom, Mr. Greene on Retriever,
Tom Day on Cossington, and only five or six others
being able to get up the Skeffington Vale. How he
and Tom Day ever got such a pack put together
astonished all Leicestershire; and not one blank day
went into the diary during his six seasons. He took
great pains with his foxes : one of the broad-backed,
short black foxes which Captain White sent him from
Derbyshire went, like the celebrated Manton Gorse
ones of two seasons since, and gave him three runs
from John Ball, before Tom could bring him to book.
As an M.F.H., none were more energetic or popular
both with the gentlemen and the farmers. If the
meet was thirty miles off, he would never miss it, and
he would saunter down to the kennels at Billesdon on
396
Scott and Sebright.
every non-hunting day. It was at that village that
Mr. Grant had his studio while he was engaged on the
Melton Hunt picture, and spent some weeks at Rolle-
ston while it was in progress.
Mr. Greene at It was beautiful to hear Mr. Greene talk
Home. 0f hunting, especially at the head of his
own table. He was all animation, and you hardly
knew whether most to admire the conciseness and
spirit of his descriptions, or the delicate grace with
which he kept self so completely in the background,
—giving every first-flight man his due, and hitting off
his peculiar style. He was tenacious of his old friend-
ships and early predilections. "Holyoake," for whom
he acted during his mastership, Goodricke and Bel-
lingham Graham were ever on his lips; and the riding
of Lords Wilton and Gardner, and Mr. Gilmour, a
theme which never grew old ; but still he did not
grudge the younger men their laurels. Fairness and
kindness were great features in him, and no one had
finer tact in settling a vexed question, or putting two
men together, when they had begun to fight a little
shy. To give another chance was the great rule of
his magisterial life, and young offenders might well
say appealingly, " Take me to 1 The Squire ! ' " He
delighted in a little farming, and never seemed happier
than when he had his tenants round him at the rent
dinners, and invited Sir Frederick Fowke and Mr,
John Marriot, and perhaps one or two of the neigh-
bouring clergy to dine with them. Latterly he was a
good deal in London, and loved dearly to meet his
friends Sir Bellingham and Mr. Maxse (who had been
at University College, Oxford, with him) in his daily
visits to Boodle's, or to have a chat with Mr. Payne
and " The Squire," at the Arlington. He often
dropped in at Tattersall's on a Monday, and if he did
not care to accompany Lord Berners, who always
came to dine with him in Upper Baker-street on the
evening of the Private View, each Christmas, he amaz-
Horn and Hound.
397
ingly enjoyed judging the hunters at the Leicester
Agricultural Show. Up to the last winter before Mr.
Smith died he was a regular visitor at Tedworth, and
it was there that he renewed his acquaintance with
Mr. Coke.
An affection of the heart had given Hig Latter Days
its infallible warning some ten years
previously, and he should then have given up hunting.
He would stop for breath at the bottom of Bushy
Close Hill between Billesdon and Rolleston ; but it
was not till his grey Topthorn gave him a fall at
a hedge and back-dyke between Norton Gorse and
Barkby Holt, about twelve months before his death,
that he really began to fail. He had never recovered
the loss of his nephew, who was to have inherited
Rolleston ; but when the shadows began to thicken
round him at last, he was enabled to look more
steadily into the future. Taking a friend into his
stables to show him Topthorn and Crinoline, his
eyes filled with tears when he said, " There they
are, I shall never want them again." To many he
seemed wasted, and he thought so himself; but
when his groom Shield weighed him just a fortnight
before his death, after a lapse of two years, he
was within a pound of what he had been in 1855,
" Eight stone one, Shieldhe said. " Is that all you can
make it f that was exactly my weight zvhen I was at
CollegeI He seemed to take heart from this, and not
only ordered a new whip and scarlet, but rode over to
Leicester the day before his death to try a horse at
Hames's.
The next morning was the first monthly The Meet at
meet of the hounds at Rolleston. He Rolleston.
was in more than his wonted spirits at seeing so large
a field, and Sir Frederick Fowke, Captain Baily,
Mr. Tailby, and so many of his friends round him.
It was quite a summer day, and the servants said
they " had never seen the sun shine so brightly on
39§
Scott and Sebright.
master before," and thought sadly afterwards of the
old country omen, when they knew the end. While
the second breakfast was going on, he sauntered down
to the sunk fence, to have a word with the master and
Jack Goddard. " I never saw a nicer lot," he said,
when Wildboy and Welfare, the cup winners, and two
couple more from Sutton's Lively, had been pointed
out. to him ; "you're just getting them the size I like
so much."
... T „ Shield had taken the fine edge off
is as un, £rjnojine wiien they had looked them
through, and there was soon a view halloo on the
Tugby side of the gorse. The fox bore away by the
keeper's house, leaving Loddington Village on the
right, and so on to Launde Park Wood. Jack God-
dard's horse hit him a sharp blow on the muscles of
the back in a somersault over some rails near the Up-
pingham Road, but he picked himself up in fearful
pain, and on his Poet once more; and Mr. Greene
caught his last glimpse of the chase as Mr. Tailby led
the field up Skeffington Vale. He had got a good
start, but he jumped no fences, and between Rolleston
and Skeffington Wood, he suddenly turned quite pale,
and said, pressing his side, "/ feel very ill, Shield; I
can't ride to-dayS A little brandy rather restored
him, and he cantered and trotted along homewards.
" Shield, I've done with them" were his last words to
his faithful groom as he gave him his mare, and he
never crossed that threshold again.
,,. ~ He sat down in his armchair in the
and his Death. ... .
dming-room, and had scarcely asked for
a little brandy, and said that he thought he had
ridden too hard, and felt " that odd sensation again,"
when he bowed his head and died. The thoughts of
a lingering death had always possessed a peculiar ter-
ror for him, so much so, that he often declared that
he would rather be shot down in a battle or a battue.
His wish was fulfilled, and a mere lad took him up in
Horn and Hound.
399
his arms, and laid him just as he was, in his scarlet
coat and boots, on his bed in the east room, which
he had specially chosen as his bedroom, so as to see
his hunters go out for exercise each morning.
The coat of arms keeping their grim
dog and boar guard in the entrance-hall,
with " Love and Loyalty" to the last, stood out sad
and unchanged amid the dreary havoc of the sale day.
The Billiard-table was blocked up with the claret-
warmer, the china, and the books. The chair in which
he died was on the terrace, waiting to be carried away
by its new owner. The Billesdon Coplow, " The
Whissendine appears in view," " The Melton Hunt,"
and the pictures of the hunters were ticketed on the
floor, and turned with their faces to the wall ; while a
crowd were pressing round the gay, sweet-topped
Topthorn, and the slashing, hard-pulling Crinoline in
the meadow, or following the auctioneer, all eager for
'a relic, if it were only a spud, into every nook and
cranny of the yard.
It was indeed, " after me the Deluge." Rolleston
was there still ; the silver firs with their quaint rec-
tangular branches near the knoll once so dear to the
Quorn ; the deep claret shade on the fish pond in
front of the house, from which generations of foxes
had filched the ducks and swans and received a free
pardon; the cross by the old grey church worn on the
south side with pilgrims' knees ; and the dark boat-
shaped arbour at the top of the dark yew walk, where
Mr. Assheton Smith and his pupil so often sat and
gathered inspiration from the view of the top end of
Rolleston Wood and Goadby with its " tremendous "
vale,—they knew no change, but there was now an-
other lord of the soil, and the heart of the place
was gone.
Sir Richard Sutton's style of going sir Richard
was rather slow, but straight. He was Sutton,
never anxious to be first, and did not seem to ride for
4-00
Scott and Sebright.
a place, but took the fences just as they came. Even
when quite a young man, he never cared to go beyond
a certain pace. Hedge and ditch he liked, but to
timber and water, the latter especially, he was not
very partial. He liked Emperor quite as well as
Whitenose, who gave him six or seven falls in one
day, and he went well on Snowdrift, which he pur-
chased for 250 guineas from Sir Tatton, and named
from the circumstance of his being obliged to return
to Sledmere that day, to borrow a snow-plough, so as
to enable him to get on to Mr. Osbaldeston's at
Ebberston.
Thrussington Gorse, Barkby, and Scraptoft were
his most favourite Quorn meets, and he always said
that he was not sure that he had done a wise thing
in gravelling the Burton country wood rides during
his long mastership, as instead of the field being
left fetlock-deep in them, they could get away and
interfere with his hounds. If he was pleased after
a run, he had a peculiar way of putting his whip-
hand on his hip, and holding his horn against
the pit of his stomach, and snapping his little dark
eyes.
Hunting Nothing perhaps delighted him so
incidents, much as Daphne the grandam of Dry-
den, of whom Will Goodall said that no hound
"brought so much intellect into our kennel." On
this occasion, Sir Richard ran his fox from Shoby
Scholes to Lord Aylesford's covert, and Grimston
Gorse, and right up to Belvoir, and to ground again
in the middle of a field near Shoby Scholes. Daphne
rushed right into the drain in her stride, and was
working there up to her shoulders when Ben Morgan
came up, and on hearing of it from Ben, Sir Richard
got off in his delight to clap her. He enjoyed no
hunting-field joke more afterwards, than that of a
labourer waving to him at a check. When he got to
him, and asked how long the fox had been gone, the
Horn and Hound. 401
man scratched his head, and replied, seemingly in
all sincerity, " I seed him at five o'clock, when I wur
a foddering the beasts." Well might he say to Lord
Wilton, " that man must have a great opinion of my
hounds." He did not care for hounds being very
level if they worked well; but he never forgot it if
any of them were too free of tongue. Giving away
the old and young draft, generally about five-and-
twenty couple, was a great fancy of his, and the
huntsman was allowed 70/. in lieu. He was going
very deep latterly into the Belvoir Guider blood, when
he had done as much as he cared to do with True-
man, whose dam Pastime came, like Wildair, in a
Brocklesby draft. No one exactly knew why he took
such a fancy to Trueman, but he and old Bluecap
were the only ones which shared his carriage to cover,
and stood in with him for the lunch of cold chicken
or pie, with which it was always stored. Trueman
was a fair dog, but never ran to head, and crossed
well with the Brocklesby blood, and Affable by Vine
Grampian.
Will Goodall was placed in Mr. Drake's Early Days
stables under his father, when he was of wm Goodall.
eleven, and after three seasons as cover boy for Mr.
Tom Drake, he was put on as second whip under
Wingfield. Dick Simpson was first whip, and judg-
ing from the style in which he had seen Will from a
boy "jumping the church walls like a hare," he knew
that he should have a lively colleague. Will had had
his early perils, as Flounce dragged him fully twenty
yards across the stable-yard at Shardloes before his
father's eyes. As he grew older, he " had an aching
tooth to be with Jem Hills," who had just then come
to the Heythrop. His father, who had been a hunt-
ing-groom for eight seasons in the Belvoir country,
wrote to Tom Goosey, but there was no answer, and
the lad still pined for change. Nothing might have
come of it, but Mr. Cox once said to him before Lord
D D
402
Scott and Sebright.
Forester's brother in the hunting-field, " I am told
you want to leave, Bill; they tell me the Duke of
Rutland wants a whip." Mr. Forester hearing this,
struck in and said he was not aware of the fact, but
promised to write, and in ten days, which Bill de-
scribed as a lifetime, his lordship sent for his weight,
and ten stone was the reply. Another letter arrived
from Belvoir to say that he was to go down directly,
and he saw the '37 season out, beginning on his first
morning at Woolsthorpe Cliff Wood. Goosey received
him in a very candid way. " You must net mind" he said,
" if I give you a good blowing up in the field; I'm as
likely to do so if you're right as wrong!' This great
huntsman told his mind to his whips without circum-
locution, but to the field it was generally prefaced
with " I beg leave to say." " You jumped on that
hound, sir, at the fence, and I beg leave to say, sir, you
buried him as wellf was his ironical remark to one of
them.
Win Goodaii at Will's was latterly a very forced voice,
the Belvoir. an(} summer and winter he generally said
he had a cold. He was broad-across his shoulders,
and big in the legs, and seemed at least two stone
above The Emperor's mark; but he always nursed
his horse, and this added to his immense quickness
of eye, brought him where he was. He also rode
Lightheart, Knipton, Swing, Multum in Parvo, Nim-
rod, and Melton during his last season. The two first
were his best, and it was Lightheart by Greatheart
from a mare of Mr, Frank Grant's, and bred by Lord
Forester at Willey, which carried his successor Jem
Cooper so well on the Hose Gorse day, which first
marked his maiden year. The end of Will's ambition
was to get his foxes over the Nottingham turn-
pike by Lord Plymouth's lodge, from Melton Spin-
ney, and so by Goodricke's Gorse into the "grass,
but it was scarcely once in a season that he had this
felicity.
Horn and Hound\
4°3
Two runs on February 15th and 21st of his last
season pleased him, so he wrote us, more than any he
had ever known. In the first they were hallooed for-
ward to a fresh fox, when their old one had crept in
somewhere near Culverthorpe, after "one hour and
fifty minutes of regular blazing." " From Dembleby
Thorns," he adds, "they went away like pigeons in
flight, the horses, and even many of our good men
melting away like snow in summer; they ran from
scent to view ; and killed him by themselves (with
the exception of fifteen minutes from Culverthorpe), as
hard as ever they could split, for three hours and twenty-
two minutes. I was first into the last field, and the
only person who saw them course him, and his Grace
was in the field when they caught him. We were the
only two, but Mr. Frank Gordon, Mr. Hardy of Gran-
tham, and Mr. Housen, Mr. Brooksner, and Jem came
up to see them eat him. Sir Thomas Whichcote's
horse stood stock-still one field away." We had no
further particulars of the run of the 21st than "We
had a regular trimmer ! Oh ! such a trimmer, which
few men live to see. The hounds did not get home
till one o'clock the next morning. With their first fox
they had two hours and ten minutes to ground nearly
in view, and with their second one hour fifty minutes.
They tired everyone out and ran into him by them-
selves charmingly; it was all over our best country
with both foxes."
Goosey had a story that he was never driven but
once from cover by a foggy day; and " then I beg
leave to say I had done my best, for I drew a turn-
pike-road, and thought that the trees on the other side
were the cover." How Will's genius would have dealt
with this emergency it is difficult to divine, but he
used to declare that when a Humby Wood fox beat
him in the morning, he went back again in the even-
ing, and had a lot of old men and women with lan-
terns in the rides, and so worked on till he had just
D D 2
404 Scoti and Sebright.
time to get home, and save Sunday. He considered
that he had kept all Goosey's quality in the kennel,
and that he had got length with Rallywood ; and he
swore by Trusty by Foljambe's Forester, and in fact
all the sort, as such close workers and steady hounds
for an afternoon. Almost his last piece of advice
to Ben Morgan, when he told him, " I've had many
rough falls, but none like this," was, to use one of the
sort, Alfred from the celebrated Nightshade, and he
had one more word ere they parted for the glories of
Comus and Guider.
T Sh tr,t Tom Sebright was wont to say, that
om e £rst learnt to ke so foncj Gf hounds by
running after the late Mr. Villebois' pack, when he
hunted the Romsey side of the old Hampshire
country. Time scored him on its page at Stowe-on-
the-Wold in 1789, and it dealt very tenderly with him
to the close. His father, Tom Sebright, who died
there in his eighty-sixth year, was quite a huntsman
worthy in his day. He showed all the science of a
" master forester," when he hunted the New Forest;
and nearly to the last, he would trot out on his pony,
to meet Jem Hills when he came to Heyford Village.
No wonder that such a keen hand wished his lad to
begin early ; and at fifteen Tom was duly entered with
Mr. Musters, who soon observed his fine hand and
quick eye to hounds. He went from the Annesley
kennels to Sir Mark Sykes, who was then master of
the North Riding Hounds in conjunction with Mr.
Digby Legard, but his style of riding was too tre-
mendous. Hence, when " The Squire" came after the
drafts which he wished to add to his new purchase of
the Monson pack, Mr. Legard said to him, " You may
take the whip as ivell: we've tried him three seasons,
and he kills all our horses." And so this brilliant
pair crossed the Humber, and hunted the Burton
country, and the Southwold woodlands, and worked
theirwayround through Nottinghamshire to the Quorn.
Horn and Hound. 405
We have dwelt so often before on Tom's Tom in Leices-
Leicestershire career, that we are not tershire.
going to " run heel" now. He never hunted the hounds
except when " The Squire" was away, and that only
happened twice, to speak of—when his mother died,
and when he broke his leg. Tom's day had very
nearly ended in the canal near Stragglethorpe. They
had found at Ella's Gorse, and away by Widmerpool,
into the Vale; and the fox, after running the towing
path a short distance, took the water. He was viewed
over, and as some one must go, Captain White swam
it on Pilot ; and Tom tried to follow. Half way across
the horse sank like a stone, and was drowned^ and
Captain White had no little difficulty in rescuing Tom,
by fishing for him with the lash of his hunting-
whip.
Mr. John Moore recommended him to First Day in the
Earl Fitzwilliam as successor to John Milton Country.
Clark, and he headed this celebrated pack for exactly
forty seasons. He came in March, and the first meet
was at Bedford Purlieus ; but the hounds kept chang-
ing their foxes, and his lordship decided to have a turn
at Sutton Wood. Tom rode Thorney that day, and the
decision with which he lifted his hounds for five hun-
dred yards over the plough, and did not allow his fox
to dwell for an instant in Abbot's Wood, made the old
hands say, that " There's no mistake about our new
man." Monk's Wood and Bedford Purlieus were
latterly very different to what they had been in the
dykeless days of Will Dean, when horses had fairly to
skip from one sound bit of ground to another in the
ridings, and Tom found no better places for making
hounds steady. Aversley Wood foxes had always an
honourable mention, and he looked upon them as
quite the wildest and the best. The Soke of Peter-
boro' with its Castor Hanglands and Upton Wood,
was a very favourite place for his infant school in the
autumn. " When there was a scent," he used to say,
406
Scott and Sebright.
"hounds run as well there as anywhere;" but taking
the season through, he leant to Barnwell Wold. Of
Morehay Lawn he was also very fond, and it was
there that he entered George Carter to the country,
three weeks before the season closed, in the April of
'45-
Scenery about We loved to stroll out with the old man
Milton- and the hounds into Milton Park, and by
judiciously leading up to her, induce him to talk of
" Relish," a name which he used to pronounce with as
much unction as Robert PI all was wont to throw into
" Mesopotamia and we mischievously got him to
say it for the last time, just before we bade him good-
bye on the show ground at Yarm. He was one of those
fine, sterling characters which well repaid the study ;
and the whole place and its accessories seemed so
exactly in keeping with him. The rick-backed church,
with its crooked wooden belfry, the Fox Hounds sign
nailed to the elm, the straggling thorn clumps at the
edge of the park, over which, under a cold December
sky, the withered clematis was hanging in rich tracery,
like the veil of a bride, the Nen creeping on its " lazy
Scheldt "-like course along the broad meadows of
Overton, the white sun-dial on the wall of the
steward's house, and the quaint intermixture of the
martello tower, with the thatch and the ivy at the
kennels, all blended so thoroughly with him, and his
honest pride of being part and parcel of an old English
home.
Tom on the During the summer he spent nearly all
Flags. his time among " my lambs," and cared
very little to wander afield. The Yarborough, Beau-
fort, and Belvoir kennels were what he principally
used ; but during his last two seasons he dipped
deeply into Mr. Selby Lowndes's Royal, an old-
fashioned-looking dog, and rather wild in his work.
" Ah ! my lad, the dam is the secretwas his constant
remark to young huntsmen. Like most reserved men,
Horn and Hound.
407
he was tough in his opinion, both in the field and the
kennel, and no one but the boiler knew what the
puppies were by, till they were ready to go out to
quarters. He hung very much to the notion that in
breeding two negatives would make a positive, both in
style of work and make, and enforced it pretty gene-
rally in all his correspondence. It was delightful to hear
him tell, almost under his breath, when you asked
after the cream of entry, that they were " perhaps
just the most beautiful I ever had," and believing him-
self most implicitly, summer after summer. " A
thing of beauty" was most truly his "joy for ever."
If he was showing one of his hounds, which he thought
a little out of the common way, he would indicate his
delight by thrusting his hands deep into his breeches
pocket, and kicking out his little right leg. He
would then draw his hand over the hound from the
head to the stern, and remark, in his gentle tone, that
" it couldn't be more beautiful if it had been spoke-
shaved."
To Stroll among the hounds, as they The Kennel after
lay cub-dreaming on their benches was his Death-
quite like entering a congress of woodland senators.
Old Hardwicke, the winner at Yarm, had ended his
line hunting, after his sixth season, and was there no
longer to tell of the Harper sort though eleven couple
of his puppies may. One of them was the last that
Tom gave any directions about, and he requested
George to call him " Hardwicke," and send him to
Mr. Strixon's. Foreman sat up, showing in his wise
countenance all the intelligence of the Feudals, which
enabled him to be pilot so often ; and near the one-
eyed Fugleman, was Bachelor, who " kept Greenwich
time" for Tom, and Rasselas, with that ancient grey-
dished face, which always made him remark, without
any disrespect to dignitaries, that he " had a head
like an archbishop." Friendly of the Feudal sort, for
which Milton has to thank Badminton, and repaid its
408 Scott and Sebright.
debt with Hermit, had also devoted her best years to
the pack ; and with his paw on her, and his brother
the line-hunting Bachelor's white-face on his own
quarters, old Bluecap takes his snoose, Susan and
Shiner with his long tan features, speak up well for
the Shiner sort; and the Feudals are here again, with
Finisher, who lies with his smart head over the
ledge. The badger-pied Ferryman, from Hardwicke's
sister, which Tom was always quoting as "the neck
and shoulders to keep in your eye," is also in the
group, full of honourable scars, and with a split-up ear,
which show that he will have his cub dividends in
full.
Tom in the Tom's manner was rather phlegmatic ;
Field- and he never wearied of enforcing the
trite maxim, " that so much mischief is done by being
in a hurry." When a fox was found, his scream
" made you shake in your saddle but still his View
Halloo was hardly so musical as his predecessor's,
John Clark. In hound language and horn blowing,
none could excel him, even when he was long past the
thirty to sixty era, which he spoke of as " the prime
of a huntsman's life." His language to the field was
remarkably courteous and guarded, even under deep
provocation. If a fox was headed right into his face,
he seldom got beyond " Odd Rabbit it altogether /"
and if a whip did not put hounds to him immediately,
or mistook orders, he appealed most forcibly to " Rags
and Garters /" to aid him. Perhaps he tried too high
for the majority of whips, and not only expected great
excellence too early, but was a little impatient if he
did not find it. Although very kind in his nature, he
was decidedly chary of his professional praise. He
would listen to some eulogy on a whip or huntsman
whom he knew to be far below proof, and observe as
a closer, with his little short laugh, that " He might
have made a good boiler if he had been properly
brought up to itor else "He can halloo and blow
Horn and Hound. 409
the horn." Then, perhaps, he would put down his
lip, and sum up a horse with, " When the wind was in
him he was good enough." The fast talkers he always
dismissed with the comment, that they were " not
always so fast over the country, when it came to the
contest."
In the great woodlands, where he was style of
so quiet, and always there, it was beauti- Hunting,
ful to see the hounds fly to his horn ; and nothing
pleased him so much as " to give him a rattling good
turn round, and get them close at him bfefore he goes
away." His broad bald forehead, of the Old Noll
mould, was a treat to look at, when he lifted them to
their fox, which he never did till they had made their
own cast first. He was not fond latterly of long casts
forward. " Odd Rabbit it! let them hunt, gentle-men,"
was all his desire ; and then came his cheery " Catch
them if you can now'.' At the death he was almost
nervously anxious lest the horsemen should tread
upon his darlings ; and then, if the master was out,
there came the fine retainer-like courtesy and touch of
the cap : "A dog fox, my lord !" Never but once did
any one of his three Milton masters speak a word of
reproof to him. " Tom ! Tom !" said his late lord-
ship, in his quiet way, when he had been left behind
at Washingley Wood, uyou rode azvay from the master
of the hounds" I blezv my horn three times, 1 assure
you, my lord, before I left the coverC was the answer.
Nothing more was said, till his lordship broke the
silence, as they rode back to Milton, with " Tom!
don't let the sun go down upon my wrath f and Tom
often said afterwards, " This was the first and last
scolding I ever got at Milton
Along with this story and the deeds of Describing a
Thorney, Patriot, and " The Squire," he Run-
generally got in a word for Mr. Hopkinson, his hero
of that great day from Barnewell Wold, when they
killed in the ploughed field, near Papley Gorse.
410 Scott and Sebright.
Hounds and hunting were his unvaried theme, and
latterly he had rather a curious habit of exaggerating
the distance of a burst when he was giving the points
of a run. " Then right a/way" was his mode of deline-
ating it, with a triumphant wave of his right hand into
space. His friend John Payne used often to quiz him
about it, when he went to smoke his pipe with him in
the evening, and tell that octogenarian sportsman
what they had been doing. " Right long way that
was, Tom ; rare long round, I should think ; about two
or three miles, eh f' and then, if Tom added that they
" went as straight as a pigeon," he would good-
humouredly drop on him again, with " a pretty pigeon
that tvould be /" and being thus duly cautioned, Tom
had to begin again.
Pie considered the season of 1847-48 as his best.
For the first ten seasons at Milton he kept a diary of
the sport, and then he tired of it. His hound-book,
on the contrary, was a perfect Talmud in his eyes, but
it was not till within the last three seasons that he
began to entrust its treasures to print. He stuck to
r~ . „ his few old cronies whom he had known
lomatHome. ,
when he first came into the country, and
as he saw them dropping off one by one, he could
cheerfully say that he " had had a very good innings,"
and tell George Carter that they would " soon be
changing houses." Frank Buckle used to hunt with
him, and they were, of course, acquainted ; but Frank
was " on the other side of the question," and came
very little to Milton; and Tom felt sure that "he
cared a good deal more for bull-dogs than hounds."
Shirley and Goosey were his earliest friends among
the huntsmen, and when they or any of their juniors
came over, he would solemnly take his pipe out of his
mouth, to announce that he was " bomb-proof," and
then " puzzle out the sort" with them into the short
hours. One or another of his neighbours ploughed up .
his close for him, and helped him in his few farming
Horn and Hound.
411
operations ; but his heart was in the gorse and not in
the granary. He hardly ever went near a race-
course, till Ignoramus became too much for his philo-
sophy, and then he not only timed a visit to Old
George Carter, in order to see the colt run at Stock-
bridge, but duly appeared at the Grove Kennels on
the eve of the St. Leger.
He once only had an impulse to shoot at a private
pigeon-match, and scored with the best of them. The
joke of his beating Lord Fitzwilliam's gamekeeper
was much too good to be lost, and he found himself
promptly figuring in a true and correct list of the
crack shots on that occasion. His mingled dismay
<and disgust when he got hold of the paper, and found
Himself and his deeds gazetted in full, as if he had
been4ome professor of the trigger, is remembered by
his fa^nily yet. Except for a little fun with his grand-
children, he never took a bat in hand, although as a
young man he was a very fair player. His early
veneration for " The Squire" was not unconnected
with his powers in that line, as when Lord Frederick
Beauclere broke his finger at Nottingham, there were
few all round players who could cope with " the little
wonder." " The Squire's" bowling was as rapid as his
riding, and when he played two of the best of the
Notts Club for fifty guineas aside, he'made eighty-
four, and bowled them both for seventeen.
A likeness of him, in cricket costume, Tom's
with his bat under his arm, used to hang Snuggery,
above Tom's fireplace ; and his driving-match was
equally honoured. The walls of that little chamber
presented a curious, unpretending medley. A Sport-
ing Magazine print of his father holding sweet con-
verse over a half-door with New Forest Jasper, was
kept in countenance by the blue and white prize
tickets from the Yarm Show. An old mare's hoof was
grouped with the late Lord Milton's spurs ; and The
Billesdon Coplow, " Reynard's last shift," and "An
412 Scott and Sebright.
Earth-stopper" comported well with the rusty high-
crowned hunting cap, which had its peg on one side
of the writing cabinet. Patriot, with the hounds
Hardwicke, Marplot, and Rasselas, from his son
George's hand, some portraits of the Fitzwilliam
family, and his two horns (about the disposition of
which he left special directions in his will), adorned
his drawing-room ; and he never wearied of telling of
the old black, which carried him so well over Kim-
bolton Park palings from Leighton Gorse. In his
prime no man was more determined, and be it timber
or water, he was in his place as quick as lightning,
whether he was on Reformer, Blucher, Clipper, Zara,
or the fidgety Martingale. He liked also to tell d'f
Mr. Osbaldeston's Orange, which won the Cup dt
Lincoln, and carried him over six gates in succession
on one day ; and his best water jump in Lincolnshire
was on a Scrivington horse, with a middle like a cow,
and carrying the saddle on his shoulders. He liked
big well-bred horses ; and Hellaby exactly suited him
during his last season, as he could sit down on him,
and let him go along at a nice lobbing pace when the
hounds began to run.
Sport of his The cub-hunting in his last season
Last Season. (1860-61) did not begin until the middle
of September, which was later than he had ever known
it; and before the woodlands were " regularly stripped
for business," he attended the pleasantest meet of his
life at the Huntingdon Town Hall. His Grace the
Duke of Manchester was in the chair, and handed
him, with many kind words, the 800 guineas in a
silver cup, to which 293 of his friends had subscribed.
The old man could hardly speak his thanks when he
received " the treasured heirloom," and sketched the
past very briefly, but he " came again" later in the
evening, and told them how, when he could cheer
hounds no longer, he trusted to fill the Cup, and
bring it to his cottage door, when the hunt went past,
Horn and Hou?id.
413
and drink " Success to Foxhunting" with them once
mord.
The next season began nicely, and he soon wrote to
tell us of a day from Farcet Fen, which had greatly
delighted him. They found in some coleseed, and
the fox took a ring in the fen, &c., " then right away
to Washingley Woods," and was eventually killed
near Buckworth Great Wood. He added, " It was
about eighteen miles straight; time a little more than
two hours. This was one of the old-fashioned runs I
have seen in this country some years ago. I do ex-
pect this season to be one of sport, the country is in
such good condition for hounds ; and the greatest
advantage will accrue from the hard riders not being
able to ride over them, which is a great pleasure for
me to see." One of the principal events of his last
March was the clashing with the Pytcheley in Oakley
Purlieus, and packing with them up to Boughton
Wood, where the forty couple divided, Tom and
Charles Payne going away with one lot (which was,
oddly enough, made up nearly half-and-half from each
kennel) and running their fox to ground ; and the
four whips with the other, which lost their fox near
Brigstock. Thirty-five brace was the return of the
season, which " was altogether a satisfactory one," and
his last day was at Laxton Hall, on April 24th, when
he unfortunately killed a brace of cubs.
A fall from his grey mare near Win- First Symptoms
wick, in March, was the first cause of of illness,
the mischief which gradually brought him to his end ;
and it was strongly suspected that he had broken a
rib. .For a man of his age and weight the fall on the
side of a bank was a severe one. He hunted the
hounds again, but his cough never left him, and it
became so troublesome to himself and the congrega-
tion, that for the first time for many a year his wonted
seat at church was vacant for Sundays together.
The summer brought no apparent change in these
4H
Scott and Sebright.
symptoms, and going to the Hound Show at Yarm
increased them. These shows were latterly quite a
bright spot in his life. He looked upon them as a
little private bout between himself and Ben Morgan,
and after he had beaten him with Hardwieke and
Friendly, he never failed to tell that " they were
rattling good- fellows at Redcar." Ben had beaten
him in his turn with Warrener and Languish at Mid-
dlesboro', but Tom was most philosophic under such
reverses, and instead of railing at the judges, he forgot
all his rivalry in " the social cloud," and hoped on for
another year. The next August he was ready for
another trip North, with three-and-a-half couple and
a terrier, to Yarm, and he said for weeks before, " I'll
drink their good healths that can lick me with my
Bachelor and Hercules."
Tom at Middies- To get up Old Tom after dinner, and
boro' and Yarm. cheer him till they got a short burst out
of him, was quite a tent feature of these meetings;
and the respect which was shown to him both by
masters and huntsmen gratified him not a little.
Others might go in mufti, or unorthodox hats, but he
always attended in full costume as the professional
Premier of the Noble Science, and those hound shows
would have seemed to lack solidarite if he had not
been there. He looked quite a link between the wood
and the woodlands, as we met him in his scarlet with
the green plush collar and his dark corduroys, stroll-
ing along the dock side at Middlesboro', and a forest
of masts bristling in the background ; and there was
still a more remarkable link between Yarm and
Leicestershire, as the Quorn huntsmen of '19, '39,
and '59, himself and the two Treadwells, stood side
by side. His son Harry was whipping in to him that
day, when he brought up his Friendly and Bachelor
before the bench for the Champion Cup, and from the
whispers which went on, and the notes which were
made by the Bench, it seemed morally certain that
Horn and Hound. 415
Tom would be there or thereabouts again. Then
came the pause, and Mr. Tom Parrington as clerk of
the council stepped up for instructions. Poor Will
Boulton was beckoned to, and once more he and
Bonny Face were on the boards. Then " Ben" got
the office, and Captain Williams taped Middleton
Languish, and cast a very longing eye on her as she
retreated. Tom seemed to have gone to ground for a
space, but he did not peep out in vain from behind
the half-door. For him too came the welcome signal,
and he darted forth leading Bachelor," and then hand-
ing him over to Harry, positively made a run of it
back for Friendly. " That's all you want," said Sir
John Trolloppe, the last entries were made in the
books, and Tom stood second. However, there was
balm for him in the other classes, and when the cards
of victory, red, white, and blue, were placed in front
of the compartments, Mr. Hill's, Lord Middleton's,
the Bramham Moor, and the Milton all bloomed like
a bouquet, and nearly twenty pounds was Tom's
value received when he marched amid a perfect chorus
of view halloos up to the chairman.
He might well tell his doctor that he The Last Party
had been at rather a gay party at Yarm.
His cough grew worse after the journey, but he
thought " that one of my old doses would set me up
again," and he was anxious to invite a few of his
friends, who were not able to come to the testimonial
dinner, and get that off his mind before the cub-hunt-
ing began. That wish was fulfilled, and Mr. Percival
of Wansford, the Goodliffes, John Core, and two or
three others sat round his board once again, and noted
how cheerfully he spoke of what he hoped to do for
them the next season on the Thrapston side, and how
he dwelt on the kindness of Mr. Fitzwilliam when he
gave his health.
He generally required a little pressing, but he was
no laggard that evening, when " A Southerly wind
Scott and Sebright.
and a cloudy sky" was called for according to custom.
Although his cough fairly broke him down when he
had got through two stanzas, and he was excused the
rest, there was all the wonted animation in his " Have
at him, my boys," "Hi, wind 'em /" and his face shone
again as he spoke to his hounds in that chorus, and
found them doing everything he told them. There
was such character about him and the song, that when
you had a chance you didn't like to lose it. Then
George Carter and his father dropped in unexpectedly
at night, and the horns were got down, and Tom
talked like a composer upon Chase music in general,
and fairly beat Old George out of the field, when he
challenged him to a tune. A stroll down to the ken-
nels before tea, and a little more chat about the cubs
and Yarm closed the evening, and only one or two of
those old friends ever saw him again. It was a meet-
ing he had long set his heart on, and it proved his
farewell.
His Last A few days after he took the hounds
niness. out for their Tuesday's exercise as usual,
intending to give them a long trot round by Upton.
He had scarcely gone three miles when he pulled up,
and told George Carter that he felt very sick, and ill
with a pain in his side, and that they must cut it
short. " If I had had any further to go I should have
dropped," were his words when he got off at the
kennel door, and gave Carter the list of the hounds
to draw for hunting next day. He was in such pain
and profuse perspiration that his daughter, who met
him near the wicket, fancied that he must have had
another fall, and he required no pressing to go to bed.
For the first part of his time he dozed a great deal;
his efforts for breath could be heard all over the house;
and he was so restless that he hardly knew night from
day. On the Friday he was better, but the pain re-
turned next morning, and the action of his heart was
so feeble, that the doctors dare not grant his request
Horn and Hound.
417
for leeches. He thought but little of kennel matters,
but merely sent for George Carter to tell him about
Mr. Strixon's puppy, and asked him on leaving after
his " little Georgy, poor little boy," whom he had
always liked to see among the hounds. George
told him that he had taken out six-and-forty couple
into the Thistle Moor and killed a cub, but he made
no comment.
His son Harry and his son-in-law helped His Death
to nurse him by turns, and sat up with
him the night before he died ; and fresh water from
the pump was all he longed for. They saw that there
was no hope, but still his appetite seemed suddenly
to return, and when his dinner was brought him next
day he did think it " looked like business." Once
more he hoped for life : " See what a dinner I've
eaten, I shall be up in three weeks; I don't want to
leave you yet." He then insisted, as it was Sunday,
on having two glasses of wine as usual, to drink his
time-honoured toasts, " A good health to you all," and
"The master of the hounds." " That's not enough"
he said, " to drink Mr. Fitzwilliaml s health in, Wini-
fred" when she only poured out half a glass, but he
could do little more than taste it when it was given to
him. The toast he had drunk Sunday after Sunday,
for those forty seasons, made him wander back to the
hounds ; " Don't you see them f" he said to his daughter,
"they're all round my bed; there's old Bluecap, and
Shiner, and Bonny Lass wagging her stern!' " No, no,
father," she replied, "you're mistaken." "Ah!
they're gone now ; strange, isn't it, I shoidd see them
so plain ? Oh, dear ! my eyes deceive me; they're only
flies'.'
The window was open, and the sound of the church
bell floated into the room. In his days of health it had
never struck on his ear in vain, and he spoke to his
little grandchild and told her not to be late. " Are you
dressedfor church, Harry ?" he said to his son, who sat
E E
418 Scott and Sebright.
and watched him at the bedside, but he was hardly
conscious of the answer, and almost before the bell
was down his own last summons had been given and
obeyed.
. They laid him at Thorpe, by the side
an una . ^ ^ j^^y ancJ fog son> jqer loss two
years before, had almost bowed him down. " She
helped me through many a hard trouble ; nothing
but her tender care made me the man I have been,
but God's will be done." It was thus he told the
grief, which in his quiet nature sank so deep ; and
those who knew him best, knew too how truly he had
spoken through the lines which he selected for her
headstone-:
" Restrained from passionate excess,
Thou bidst me mourn in calm distress,
For those who rest in Thee."
And there the old man sleeps ; and as we passed away
from the spot, and lingered for a moment by the
grave of Will Dean " aged 79," and read how " all
fall .alike, the fearful and the brave," we might well
think how long and brilliant had been their career,
and what pages might have been added to the annals
of the Chase, if " The Master of the Donnington,"
Will Goodall, and Sir Harry had not died in their
prime.
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