MEHOIKS 
 
 OF 
 
 SIB CLAUDE CHAMPION DE CBESPIGNY 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 SIR CLAUDE CHAMPION DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 BART. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 GEORGE A. B. DEWAR 
 
 WITH A PREFACE AND NOTES BY THE DUKE OF BEAUFORT, E.G. 
 
 SECOND EDWIQif', \ ' *K' 
 
 LONDON 
 LAWRENCE AND BULLEN 
 
 16, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 
 1896 
 
 [All rights reserved] 
 
S V 3.3 
 
 RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITKD, 
 LONDON & BUNGAY. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 IN introducing Sir Claude Champion de 
 Crespigny's career as a most persistent steeple- 
 chaser and a very successful one to those who 
 take an interest in the Sport, and who admire 
 determination and pluck, I feel that there is 
 certainly no gentleman who has had such a varied 
 experience of it, and I hardly think any pro- 
 fessional rider either. The combination too of 
 ballooning and steeplechasing is very remark- 
 able. I have had the pleasure of Sir Claude's 
 acquaintance for many years. It must be over 
 five-and-twenty years ago that I was aware of, 
 and very nearly a witness to, an incident that 
 will give the readers of this book an idea of 
 what a prompt and determined man he is. 
 Stopping for the night, between two days' 
 hunting, with my dear and valued friends. Lord 
 
 ^49120 
 
vi PREFACE: 
 
 and Lady Algernon St. Maur at Wilcot Manor 
 near Pewsey, Wilts (he, alas ! died as Duke 
 of Somerset, about two years since), I was 
 informed by Lord Algernon that Sir Claude 
 was staying for a day or two at the Phoenix 
 Inn in the village, and that he had invited 
 him to dinner. He duly arrived in the inn 
 fly, and, as we had been hunting that day 
 and were going to hunt the next day, the fly 
 was ordered early to take Sir Claude back. 
 When the time came it did not appear, and Sir 
 Claude in evening dress and shoes at once set 
 off to walk along the slippery, muddy road, a 
 distance of about two miles. Near Pewsey he 
 met the fly, and blew up the man for not 
 coming in time ; upon which the flyman a 
 much bigger man than Sir Claude got off his 
 box, and told him if he spoke another word he 
 would punch his head. Sir Claude's response 
 was, " Put up your hands and defend yourself," 
 and in about three minutes he gave the man 
 such a thrashing that he begged for mercy. It 
 was bad enough to have to walk in the wet, but 
 to be "cheeked" besides was too much, and we 
 
PEEFACE vii 
 
 were glad to hear what had happened particu- 
 larly as the flyman was known as the Bully of 
 the Village. I mention this to show the sort of 
 man Sir Claude is ; most quiet and inoffensive, 
 but full of courage, and ready to go anywhere 
 or do anything, not only by sea or by land, but 
 in the air also. 
 
 I think the readers of his reminiscences will 
 appreciate his total disregard of danger or of 
 injury to himself. I consider him the pluckiest 
 and hardest man I ever knew, full of kindness, 
 most considerate to others, and most unselfish. 
 I think his recollections and performances will 
 interest all who care for cross-country sport. 
 
 BEAUFORT. 
 
INTKODUCTION 
 
 THE NORMAN AND ENGLISH CHAMPIONS 
 
 SIR CLAUDE CHAMPION DE CRESPIGNY, whose 
 pursuits on land and sea, as well as in the 
 air, are here related, comes of a decidedly 
 adventurous stock, and it may not be alto- 
 gether out of place to briefly trace his descent. 
 Like the late Guy de Maupassant, the well- 
 known French novelist, who was also devoted 
 to field sports, to ballooning, and to adventure 
 in many forms at sea and ashore, he, as his name 
 tells so clearly, is of Norman origin. The family 
 of Champion de Crespigny, Vicomtes St. Hurien, 
 and Sieurs de Crespigny and Vierville, and that of 
 le Champion, Comtes de Cice, are acknowledged 
 by Laroche, Chamillart, and other French 
 genealogists, as branches of the ancient feudal 
 family of the Marmions or le Champions de 
 Fonteneys le Marmion. The immediate fore- 
 fathers of Sir Claude owned the estates of la 
 Fleuriere, Vierville, and Crespigny, situated not 
 far from Fonteneys le Marmion, the original 
 
x INTRODUCTION 
 
 home of the family from the time of Eollo the 
 Norman up to the year 1418, when the last 
 owner, Bertrand le Champyon, was dispossessed 
 both of Fonteneys le Marmion and also of the 
 ancient estate of Urvyle by Charles VI. of 
 France in favour of Eobert Shottisbroke, the 
 King's " armour-bearer.'' This deed still extant 
 is in Latin, and is dated January 1st, 1418, "at 
 our Royal town of Falaise." It states that the 
 chateau and estates are to continue to be held 
 under the ancient tenure, viz. that its owner is to 
 hold the hereditary office of Champion to the King 
 of France as Duke of Normandy, and is also " to 
 present to the said King and Duke and to his 
 heirs at the feast of St. George at Caen a flag 
 with the Arms of St. George every year for ever," 
 the said Champion to attend on summons the 
 King's camp at Caen with kith and kin, etc., in 
 full armour arrayed for war, and at his own cost. 
 It will thus be seen that there is a distinct con- 
 nection between the de Crespigny family, which 
 settled in this country after the Revocation of 
 the Edict of Nantes, and the hereditary Champions 
 of the Kings and Queens of England ; for the 
 Hon. the Queen's Champion, a Dymoke of 
 Scrivelsby, who died not long since, was a 
 descendant of the Marmions, in whom the office 
 was once vested. The duties or tenure, however, 
 of the Champions of the Dukes of Normandy 
 differed somewhat from those attaching to 
 Scrivelsby Manor. The owners of Fonteney 
 
INTRODUCTION xi 
 
 were apparently, restricted in their duties to the 
 act of presentation referred to ; whilst the English 
 Champions had to play a very prominent, and 
 to some, perhaps, a rather trying, part in the 
 gorgeous ceremonial which took place at the 
 coronation of English monarchs, and only fell 
 into disuse within quite modern times. The 
 Champion, on a richly-caparisoned steed, and 
 armed to the teeth, had to rein his horse back- 
 ward the whole length of Westminster Hall, and 
 after partaking of the contents of a gold cup 
 handed him by the Sovereign, fling down his 
 gauntlet, and challenge to combat any person 
 who dared question the right of the new ruler 
 to the throne. It is said though the story 
 would seem to rest on a rather slender basis ; 
 that at the time of the coronation of the last 
 George, the Champion being a clergyman, 
 deputed the duty to his nephew, who was a 
 sailor. Sailors are with occasional exceptions, 
 one or two of which are recorded in this 
 book l notoriously deficient in horsemanship, 
 and the tale runs that the young Champion was 
 
 1 Once the present Marquis of Queensberry wrote inquir- 
 ing whether a veterans' race, to take place at Punchestown, 
 was open to sailors as well as soldiers. The secretary replied 
 in the affirmative, and added that if a jockey in the race 
 cared to ride with his face towards his horse's tail, he would 
 be entitled to a sailor's allowance of 7 Ibs. The Marquis 
 was the only sailor rider in the race, and though not 
 availing himself of the secretary's suggestion came in 
 first, beating a dozen soldier jockeys. 
 
xii INTRODUCTION 
 
 compelled to go through several rehearsals at the 
 Astley's of the day ! Whether or no there is any 
 truth in this story, it seems certain that he 
 eventually went through the performance with 
 great credit. The display has been described by 
 the chroniclers of that time as a most magnificent 
 one, and it is perhaps somewhat a cause for 
 regret that so ancient and stately a custom, 
 which assuredly compares not ill with such 
 pageants as the annual Lord Mayor's procession, 
 and the Jubilee of a few years since, should 
 have been suffered to lapse since the days of 
 George IV. 
 
 On being deprived of his office and hereditary 
 estates, Bertrand le Champion settled on his 
 Breton lands, and took the oaths of fealty to the 
 Duke of Brittany at Brehaud Moncontour in 
 1427. He, however, still retained the minor title 
 of Vicomte de Vire, borne by the family of 
 le Champion d'Urvyle prior to 1204 as Castellans 
 of Vire and of its great fortress. The last 
 descendant of Bertrand, last owner of Fonterieys 
 and Urvyle, was Ellise, daughter of Jaques 
 Loftus de Champion, last Vicomte de Vire, who 
 married about the year 1780 Andreas, grandson 
 of Archdeacon Fr. Olaus v. Mollerus, of a family 
 ennobled in 1440, and again in 1538 by Henry 
 VIII. at Greenwich ; the Emperor Charles V. also 
 conferring at Regensburgh under his own sign- 
 manual the rank of barons throughout his Empire. 
 The elder branches of the family of le Champion 
 
INTRODUCTION xiii 
 
 held only minor titles, but a junior and still 
 existing one still holds that of Marquis de Fon- 
 teneys of the Chateau of Varnhernu near Belle- 
 sene. In its memoir by E. de Magny Thomas 
 and Jordan le Champion de Fonteneys, " dit 
 Marmion " are stated to have served in the first 
 crusade, and both Laroche and Chamillart 
 mention Kobert de Moulin of the Urvyle family, 
 which succeeded to Fonteneys, as having joined 
 the crusade starting from Aigues Mortes. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott was obviously much attracted 
 by the early history and curious privileges 
 attached to this old feudal family, which he has 
 immortalized in his* great poem of Marmion. 
 Its members were a turbulent and martial race, 
 and were present at the battle of Hastings. 
 Robert, the second Lord Marmion of Fonteneys, 
 Tarn worth, Lutter worth, and Scrivelsby, who 
 founded the Abbey of St. Barberie in 1140, was 
 killed in 1143. His son Robert, the third Baron, 
 followed Richard the Lion-hearted to Poictou. 
 The ancient castle of Fonteneys le Marmion was 
 taken by assault in 1135, by Robert Count of 
 Anjou, who claimed the English crown. Foiled 
 in his attempt to capture Falaise, then held by 
 Robert Lord Marmion, he attacked Fonteneys in 
 the absence of its owner, and almost destroyed 
 it. It conferred the office of Champion and the 
 titles of Baron and Viscount on its owners long 
 before the Conquest, and to this day keeps many 
 remains attesting to former importance in the 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION 
 
 history of the Duchy. This scene of many a 
 stirring fight and call to arms in the rough -hewn 
 age of chivalry and feudal customs, is now, alas ! 
 for its former greatness, a French farm, and, incon- 
 gruously mixed amongst implements of peace and 
 agriculture, are still preserved some remnants of 
 that far-off time. The interior entrance and the 
 mantelpieces are richly sculptured in marble 
 and stone, part of the sixteenth and part of the 
 fourteenth century, but a portion is very much 
 more ancient. From the family of ScLottisbroke 
 the fortress passed to the ancient family of de 
 Guerchy, who retained it up to the Revolution, 
 when it fell to the family of the Dukes de Gram- 
 mont, and is now owned by one of its members, 
 the Marquis de Guiche. There still flows at 
 Fonteney the little fountain which gave its name 
 to the chateau nine hundred years ago. 
 
 G. A. B. D. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 INTRODUCTION : THE NORMAN AND ENGLISH 
 
 CHAMPIONS ............... ix 
 
 I. SPORT IN IRELAND AND INDIA ......... 1 
 
 II. SPORT AT HOME A?7D ABROAD ... ... ... 39 
 
 III. A MEDLEY OF SPORT ............ 84 
 
 IV. STEEPLECHASING FROM 1880-5 ......... 114 
 
 V. "IN THE CENTRAL BLUE" ... ... ... 168 
 
 VI. MAINLY STEEPLECHASING ......... 226 
 
 VII. ADVENTURE BY LAND AND SEA ......... 260 
 
 VIII. FROM EGYPT TO EPSOM ............ 299 
 
 ix. A SPORTSMAN'S PARADISE ......... 337 
 
 APPENDIX: STEEPLECHASING IN INDIA ...... 362 
 
 INDIAN RACING AND CHASING ... 362 
 
 PEDESTRIANISM ... ...... 365 
 
 BALLOONING.. 371 
 
MEMOIBS 
 
 OP 
 
 SIB CLAUDE CHAMPION DE CRESPIGKY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 SPORT IN IRELAND AND INDIA 
 
 A very long racing career Secret of staying powers 
 A " tremendous cropper " Training Hard ground and 
 hard falls My first steeplechase A tough old soldier 
 Racing in the East Winning the "Indian Grand 
 National "The cholera in '68 and '69 "Private regi- 
 ments " Probyn's fame Snipe and pigeon shooting 
 Two inveterate raconteurs. 
 
 IT is getting on for twenty-nine years since 
 I rode and won my first steeplechase. Looking 
 back across the vista of years, I really begin to 
 think that I must be getting an old fogey. The 
 fingers of one hand are more than enough to 
 reckon up the cross-country men, amateur and 
 professional, who were riding with me then and 
 who are riding now. Nor is this astonishing 
 
2 MEMOIRS QF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 when ; ; otte i ^tJonsidoKS that the steeplechasing 
 careers of most men are compressed into about 
 half-a-dozen years. Few jockeys, at any rate, 
 either on the flat or across country, beginning 
 like myself at twenty, have ridden after their 
 fortieth year ; and fewer still looked forward in 
 their forty-ninth year to riding and winning 
 a few more good races on any mount and over 
 any course within the next two or three seasons. 
 Though often taking exception to my luck in 
 various matters, I must say that the fates have 
 been very lenient to me in regard to steeple- 
 chasing. Only I wish I had not been denied 
 winning the Grand National. Once or twice I 
 have seemed within measurable distance of 
 success, and each time have been foiled through 
 an unexpected mishap. 
 
 Perhaps the first thing which it occurs to any 
 man at all conversant with horse-racing to ask, 
 when he hears that you have been riding for 
 over a quarter of a century, is " How on earth 
 have you done it ? " The question has been 
 put to me many scores of times within the last 
 few years. People who are acquainted with my 
 racing career are sometimes more puzzled at 
 the way in which I have continued to ride, than 
 those who know little about the noble sport 
 
A LONG RACING CAREER 3 
 
 of steeplecliasing. They know that I accept 
 mounts which I may never have seen or heard 
 of before, and often at the shortest notice ; and 
 also that I am willing, as a rule, to ride in all 
 weathers. That any man can keep up this 
 kind of thing for more than a quarter of a 
 century seems scarcely credible even to those 
 who are perfectly aware that it is being done. 
 I attribute my success in being able to ride 
 for such a great length of time without getting 
 knocked up, almost entirely to the fact that I 
 have always kept myself at all seasons of the 
 year in condition. The regular use every morn- 
 ing of clubs and dumb-bells the latter vary- 
 ing between two and fifty-six pounds works 
 wonders in this respect, and a cold tub before 
 breakfast may be held indispensable to a man 
 who wants to keep himself in first-class con- 
 dition. But in addition to this I am con- 
 stantly taking more severe exercise in a variety 
 of forms. Cutting furze with a bill-hook in the 
 little gorse just outside my house is capital 
 exercise ; so is thinning out the branches of 
 various trees on the place that need attention. 
 Quite lately a friend tells me he was staggered 
 at the reply made to the query, " Is Sir Claude 
 in?" "He's up a tree, sir.'' I was hacking 
 
4 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 away at an old willow, about the most awk- 
 ward wood there is to cut, owing to its 
 sponginess. 
 
 Pedestrianism is another means by which I 
 manage to keep myself " fit " all the year round. 
 On most days I do a little mild running, 
 something in the way of a "jog trot." Many 
 sportsmen regard walking with genuine horror ; 
 but for myself, I have always been very fond 
 of it, whether on a solitary tramp or with a 
 companion. A short while ago I took a walk 
 from my home in Essex up to the Grand Hotel, 
 London, a distance of about forty-five miles, 
 winning thereby a wager of no less than half- 
 a-crown ; whilst between breakfast and luncheon 
 I trudged over to a friend's one morning, a 
 distance of twenty-six miles or so. Even more 
 recently it was suggested to me that I should 
 back myself without any special training to walk 
 fifty miles in a day along an ordinary high-road. 
 The reply was that I would certainly do so any 
 day for a moderate stake. The task ought not 
 to be a very difficult one, especially in decent 
 weather. Years ago I used to do a great deal 
 
 o o 
 
 of walking in London, rarely, unless greatly 
 pressed for time or encumbered with luggage, 
 resorting to a conveyance. In about a year 
 
A ' TREMENDOUS CHOPPER' 5 
 
 I walked the best part of two thousand miles 
 of London pavement. 
 
 By constantly keeping myself in training, 
 and " hard as nails," I have been enabled not 
 only to ride into my forty-ninth year, but 
 also to shake off the effects of ugly-looking 
 mishaps in what has appeared a phenomenally 
 short time. Here are a few amongst many 
 instances. 
 
 The severest fall that I ever experienced 
 from off a horse was in the hunting-field. On 
 February 23, 1878, 1 came a tremendous cropper, 
 when out with the Tedworth, and near Penton 
 Lodge, then the property of Sir William 
 Humphrey. I rode at a gate which I thought 
 was closed all right. The gate, however, turned 
 out to be open. Down we came, an awful crash, 
 on the other side, and right on some vile cobble 
 stones which were covered with treacherous moss. 
 My arm was broken very badly at the elbow, and 
 it has never been quite straight since. To make 
 things worse, some over-solicitous spectators tried 
 to drag me by the smashed limb into Lady 
 Humphrey's carriage, which happened to be near. 
 It was currently reported, and several news- 
 papers have persisted in the statement, that I 
 knew 7 the gate to be on the swing. That was not 
 
6 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 so ; nor was I aware that there were cobble 
 stones on the other side. In this case I was Jwrs 
 de combat for some little time. But even here I 
 was out of bed in what most people would regard 
 as an exceptionally short time. In ballooning 
 accidents too I have found the same thing obtains. 
 An ordinary accident on the racecourse or else- 
 where is to my mind serious or the reverse in 
 proportion as the body is in perfect condition or 
 otherwise. 
 
 Almost as serious-looking a fall as this was one 
 I sustained at Colchester in 1892. In that case 
 my horse fell with me at the water-jump. I 
 received a heavy blow, and concussion of the 
 brain was the result. I was insensible for about 
 twenty minutes ; but presently coming to, was 
 ready to ride another race that same day. An 
 opportunity did not offer, but two days after- 
 wards, on my birthday, I was quite well 
 enough to be in the saddle again. Indeed I 
 rode and won a race for Lord Decies at the 
 Woodbridge Meeting, and felt no evil results 
 therefrom. 
 
 January 21, 1893, was a day much more fitted 
 for skating than riding across country. Indeed 
 skating was actually going on within a stone's 
 throw of the course at Lingfield, where we were 
 
TRAINING 7 
 
 steeplechasing. I received what at the time 
 looked like a very ugly fall. 
 
 When my horse fell there was another close 
 at his heels, but knowing the man for whom I 
 was riding believed my mount ought easily to 
 win, I took no heed of this in my anxiety to 
 be up and doing again. So I rose at once, and 
 as I did so the off fore plate of the horse behind 
 struck me a heavy blow just over the eye. I 
 was of course insensible for a while, but came 
 to before the stretcher was brought, and was 
 led away between two friends, one of whom, by 
 the way, was relieved of his note-book by a 
 member of the light-fingered fraternity as he 
 leant over me. 
 
 Six days later, namely January 27, 1893, I 
 was in my saddle again riding at Hurst Park, 
 with my head nicely bandaged, which seems to 
 show that concussion of the brain is not always 
 such a terrible thing as it is depicted. I should 
 have won a good race too on that day had it 
 not been for my horse, Correze, falling. He hit 
 the guard rail with great force and went clean 
 through the fence. We naturally parted company, 
 but I was not hurt. 
 
 How many more lives a jockey may be 
 expected to have than a man out of training 
 
8 MEMOIRS OF tilti CLAUDE DE 
 
 seemed to me admirably expressed by a doctor 
 on a racecourse not long since. He had been 
 attending a rider who had just had a nasty- 
 looking spill. Said a spectator, " I suppose he 
 will die ? " "Oh dear, no," was the reply ; " he's 
 a jockey." 
 
 My first steeplechase was the South of Ireland 
 Military in the spring of 1867. I was serving 
 at the time with my regiment, the 60th, which 
 was quartered in the south of Ireland, and 
 helping to suppress the Fenian outbreak. These 
 steeplechases were organized by the 12th Lancers, 
 then commanded by that famous old soldier 
 Colonel Cakes, and a rather droll incident in 
 connection with them is worth recalling. I was 
 walking with one of the officers of the 12th 
 shortly before the day of the steeplechasing, 
 when a man came up and thanked us for the 
 pleasure which he had derived from seeing the 
 horses run. " A capital day's sport," was his 
 verdict. My companion was mystified. The 
 steeplechasing, he objected, had not yet taken 
 place. It then transpired that the regimental 
 grooms and servants had taken all the horses of the 
 12th out on the preceding day, and tried them 
 over the course at the distances they would have 
 to run, and at the weights they would have to 
 
MY FIIitiT STEEPLECHASE 9 
 
 cany a bit of. enterprise which has probably 
 never been eclipsed by those who lay themselves 
 out to make money by backing horses. I don't 
 know whether the book-makers got wind of this 
 extraordinary proceeding ; if they didn't, it is 
 at least conceivable that they had rather a bad 
 time when the actual steeplechasing came off ! 
 
 The race, however, in which I had a mount, 
 and enjoyed my first triumph, could not have 
 been gauged by the regimental grooms as nicely 
 as one or two of the others. My mount Maid 
 of the Mist was not available for these trials, 
 as I was looking after her myself. Maid of the 
 Mist, so called because she was one of three up 
 in a celebrated run in Leicestershire on a misty 
 day, belonged to Major Watts Kussell. I was 
 my own trainer, as I have often been since, and 
 the night before the race went carefully over the 
 course. To neglect this precaution is to show 
 oneself deficient in the A B C of riding, whether 
 on the flat or across country. George Fordham 
 used to attach the greatest importance to it, 
 and so do many other leading jockeys of the 
 present time. It is scarcely too much to say, 
 that a rider who thoroughly knows his course 
 enjoys as great an advantage over those who are 
 ignorant of it, as does a billiard-player who 
 
10 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE 1)E CRESPIGNY 
 
 knows the table when pitted against one who 
 has never played a hundred up on it before. A 
 jockey should endeavour to sound his course, 
 and find out its strong and weak spots, as a 
 careful batsman or bowler does his pitch. In 
 some of the rougher and more rotten courses I 
 have spent many an hour in searching for a 
 sheep-track, and where the search has been 
 successful, have been materially assisted by 
 sticking to it as much as possible during the 
 race. " A Mad Eider " is the title with which 
 I have been honoured many and many a time. 
 Possibly, if the title be deserved, in this habit 
 of carefully examining my ground lies the 
 method of my madness. It may be added, 
 that in flat racing also it is desirable to avoid 
 rotten places, and this can only be done by 
 examining the course very carefully before the 
 race. 
 
 Maid of the Mist started about a hundred 
 to one against, so that my first mount was a 
 decidedly "dark horse." It was not thought 
 that she would negotiate the stone walls, to 
 which she was strange, and moreover, there was 
 no particular reason to feel great confidence in 
 her rider. But I knew my ground and my 
 mount, and so started with high hopes. My 
 
/ BEAT 'BAY 3 MIDDLE TON 11 
 
 most dangerous opponent was none other than 
 " Bay " Middleton, whose death a few years 
 back was the cause of such sincere regret to a 
 wide circle of friends and admirers. " Bay " 
 made a fatal mistake in the race, which I, pointed 
 out to him afterwards. He took it out of his 
 horse over a bit of nasty boggy ground. Noting 
 this, I let him forge twenty or perhaps thirty 
 lengths ahead till the swamp was passed : then 
 overtook him, and won by a length. Very 
 few people can say that they ever beat " Bay " 
 Middleton through any blunder of his in horse- 
 manship. As all the world knows, he was one 
 of the most accomplished horsemen of his day, 
 specially excelling perhaps in the hunting-field. 
 
 " Bay " was a man who rarely threw away a 
 race through carelessness. I recollect an amus- 
 ing " squeak " which occurred early in his racing 
 career, and which may have proved of after 
 service to him. He was riding on a course 
 near Macroom, when everything connected with 
 steeplechasing was of course much, more roughly 
 done than now-a-days. The carriage from 
 which we were watching the race was drawn 
 up by a post some little distance from the 
 judge's box, and when " Bay " passed us, 
 being then about three-quarters of a length to 
 
12 MEMOIRS OF MR CLAUDE I)E CRESPIGNY 
 
 the good, lie stopped riding, and Jack Gubbins 
 went on persevering to the winning-post a few 
 lengths further on, but couldn't quite get up. 
 I yelled out to "Bay" to go on, but even 
 as a cornet his hearing was not over-good, and 
 I might as well have shouted to his brow- 
 band. After he had weighed in, and the "All 
 right ! " announced, I got him by the arm and 
 said, " Old man, you drew that a bit fine ! " 
 " Not a bit of it," replied he ; " why it must have 
 been a good three-quarter length." "Where 
 did you finish?" I queried. "Why there, of 
 course," he answered, pointing to where he had 
 stopped riding. " I know you did, but do you 
 see what it is?" "Oh, by Jove!" he cried 
 out, amazed ; " why, it's a telegraph post ! " 
 
 " Bay " had one serious fault as a rider. He 
 almost invariably spurred his horse in the 
 shoulder, being apparently unable to sit his 
 horse without turning his toes out. He ought 
 not to have had any rowels. Many people 
 must have noticed the condition of some of his 
 mounts after a hard race or run, and indeed 
 a friend once remarked to me of a horse that 
 had been spurred in this manner by some rider 
 or other, that it looked as if it had been ridden 
 1>y "Bay" Micldlcton. 
 
DEATH OF WATTS BUSSELL 13 
 
 Watts Russell --sold Maid of the Mist after 
 this win for double the sum he had paid for 
 her not long before the race. He himself lost 
 his life some years afterwards in a race at Cawn- 
 pore, in which a horse of mine named Rpckwood 
 won. The South of Ireland Military is the only 
 steeplechase in which I have .ever ridden in the 
 distressful country. The fact was, .we were 
 in the midst of the Fenian rebellion, and had 
 therefore little time for .sport. I left for India 
 moreover shortly afterwards with my regiment. 
 
 Cawnpore was a fatal spot for poor Watts 
 Russell. On one occasion he fell in a steeple- 
 chase there, and had concussion of the brain, 
 which compelled him to come home to England 
 on sick leave. Then on another occasion he 
 dislocated his knee-cap after he had returned 
 thither from England. Finally, riding far sooner 
 than he ought to have done after this accident, 
 he met his death on the same course. His 
 horse went sideways, he had no strength to 
 keep it straight, lost all control, and came by his 
 end. I am not particularly superstitious, but an 
 extraordinary fatality does seem to pursue some 
 people in connection with certain places and 
 times. 
 
 I have referred to Colonel Oakes as the 
 
14 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 famous soldier who commanded in those days 
 the 12th. He made it the smartest of cavalry 
 regiments, though, curiously enough, he himself 
 was the shabbiest and most slouching of officers. 
 There never was a tougher old soldier than 
 Oakes, and in my opinion he was far and away, 
 Baker perhaps excepted, the best cavalry officer 
 of his day ; in fact one is sometimes inclined 
 to think that he and Baker have never been 
 equalled. On one occasion Oakes incurred the 
 momentary displeasure of an illustrious Duke, 
 who called him a fool (with an epithet before 
 it) on parade. Afterwards the Duke generously 
 withdrew the words. " Oh," replied Oakes, "I 
 don't mind, sir, your calling me a d d fool ; 
 only I don't like being called a d d fool before 
 all those other d d fools," pointing to the Staff, 
 At another time the same soldier, coming to 
 see the 12th Lancers at their dinners, found 
 them, to his great surprise, in their shirt-sleeves. 
 He asked for an explanation, and Oakes replied, 
 "You didn't suppose, sir, I was going to tell 
 my men you were coming down to-day ! If I 
 had they would have been in a shilly-shallying 
 funk, and would have devoted their time to 
 their accoutrements instead of their horses. Now, 
 sir, you see us as we are every day of our lives." 
 
A TOUGH OLD SOLDIER 15 
 
 The Fenians were for the most part cowardly 
 brutes. A favourite Fenian method of attack 
 and defence was to put the women in front 
 and then fling stones at the military over their 
 heads. But they were not a great deal more 
 cowardly than some of the magistrates before 
 whom they were dragged, often enough red- 
 handed. The latter were afraid to do any- 
 thing in cases where the guilt of the rebels 
 was perfectly manifest. In one instance at 
 Macroom several Fenians came out of court smil- 
 ing triumphantly over their acquittal. Oakes 
 quite by himself waited outside. The escape 
 of these rebels would have exasperated him 
 at any time, but their insolent mien was alto- 
 gether too much for the old soldier. So he 
 assisted each of them, as he issued from the 
 court, with a good kick, growling out, " There's 
 something for you to remember old Oakes by ! " 
 
 Oakes was a rare campaigner: no sybarite 
 he. Once he growled out in reply to the 
 question, "Have you breakfasted?" "Yes, 
 I've had my three pipes of shag ; that's my 
 breakfast to-day." It was smoking, I have 
 heard, that had much to do with his fatal 
 illness. 
 
 As may be imagined, my short but sweet 
 
16 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 experience in Ireland greatly whetted my 
 appetite for steeplechasing, and upon arrival 
 in India I soon settled down to ride in earnest. 
 Unfortunately that " eternal want of pence," 
 which, according to the poet, " vexes public 
 men," militated a good deal against me, as I 
 had at the time little more than my bare pay 
 as an ensign in the Eifles. Yet I managed by 
 hook or by crook to get a good many mounts, 
 and to win a fair number of races. I never 
 picked and chose, but rode any mortal thing 
 that came to hand, and this rule I have followed 
 ever since. 
 
 It is hard to revert to my steeplechasing 
 experiences in India without gleefully calling 
 to mind two humorous incidents which can 
 scarcely fail to appeal to people who attend 
 race-meetings regularly in England, where all 
 the proceedings are transacted in such a dignified 
 and highly respectable manner. The judges had 
 not in those days in India the nice appliances 
 which, even in the case of a very close finish, 
 make decisions comparatively simple in this 
 country. As a consequence, Eastern racing 
 verdicts used to be at times -well, rather 
 unreliable. Moreover, the judges themselves 
 were not up to our standard at home, being 
 
RACING IN THE EAST 17 
 
 often selected frotu purely social considerations. 
 It occasionally happened that the judge would 
 form his decision on the advice of outsiders, or 
 even on some faint popular demonstration. 
 Kacing one afternoon at Lucknow in 1869, 
 in a very bad light, I agreed with my op- 
 ponent to have a little fun at the expense of 
 the judge. I won the race by half a length, 
 but on retiring to weigh in addressed my 
 opponent as the winner, which so embarrassed 
 the judge that he ordered the race to be run 
 off next day. This was done, and I again won. 
 Imagine such a thing occurring in this country ! 
 There was another occasion at Cawnpore, when 
 the judge was obviously on the point of giving 
 a wrong verdict. Fortunately a friend of the 
 real winner was standing hard by. Quick as 
 thought he realized the position, and shouted 
 out the right name in congratulatory tones. 
 The judge, who had been somewhat confused 
 by conversation with a spectator just as the 
 horses were coming in, heard these words of 
 congratulation, and promptly altered his opinion 
 and decision. Nobody was more puzzled than 
 the winner myself when my 'cute friend 
 came up and said, " / won that race for you, 
 old man ! " 
 
18 MEMOIRS Of 1 SIE CLAUDE DE CREtiPIGNY 
 
 In India almost anything was deemed good 
 enough for steeplechasing. How the critical 
 crowd at Sandown or Kemptoii would shake 
 with laughter could they only see a dozen horses, 
 such as we had often to ride in India, turn 
 out on either of these courses. There were five 
 breeds first the country -bred, secondly the Arab, 
 thirdly the " Walers," fourthly the Cape horses, 
 and fifthly the English-bred. The last-named 
 were few and far between. They were mostly 
 brought over by a few wealthy civilians who 
 were keen on sport. Naturally in handicaps, and 
 weight for age and class races, there was often 
 a great diversity in the weights. The English 
 horses, though they did not as a rule stand 
 the heat so well as any of the other breeds, 
 were when "fit" facile princeps, and it was 
 therefore quite common to find them conceding 
 not pounds, but stones to the Arabs and natives. 
 The " Walers " so called because they came 
 from New South Wales were on the whole 
 the most useful horses for Indian steeplechasing. 
 They stood the climate capitally. 
 
 I left for India in the autumn of 1867 and 
 returned in the spring of 1870, so that in all 
 though I commenced riding directly I arrived 
 there, and did not draw rein till it was time to 
 
I WIN THE CAWNPORE STEEPLECHASE 19 
 
 come back I had only about two seasons of 
 steeplechasing and flat racing. The biggest 
 thing I rode in and won was the Cawnpore 
 Steeplechase on February 27, 1869. It could 
 have been fairly described in those days 
 as the Liverpool of India. The course was a 
 four-mile one, and the jumps on the whole 
 about as stiff as they make them in any part 
 of the world ; there were no regulation fences 
 or ditches then, and we should as soon have 
 looked for a nicely levelled take-off as for a 
 straw-covered course. 
 
 To win me this race I bought a mare called 
 Baby Blake for a mere bagatelle. Baby Blake 
 was a superb jumper when she did jump, but she 
 usually fell some time in a race. Indeed so 
 invariable was this habit of Baby Blake's, 
 that even money was laid that she would fall. 
 Her temper was so uncertain, that rumour had it 
 she must always be trained by moonlight. How- 
 ever, I did not take much note of these tales 
 against my purchase, but trained her myself in 
 broad daylight, cantering for miles in the jungle. 
 She started, despite her well-known jumping 
 powers, an outsider. I secured the mare, by the 
 way, by the merest chance, and indeed went to 
 Cawnpore with the idea of riding another horse. 
 
20 MEMOIRS OF ME CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 It turned out a regular brute, with an action 
 like a dromedary's, and fortunately went lame 
 in its trial. I was then offered Baby Blake. 
 
 Amongst many Indian experiences, which, 
 alas ! have so long since become " portions and 
 parcels of the dreadful past," recalled not without 
 a wrestle with the memory, this Cawnpore race 
 stands out clear. I can remember with ease 
 every incident of the race. The third fence, 
 composed of a couple of high mud walls as hard 
 as rocks, and in and out of a road, was the 
 stiffest in the course. The whole field with one 
 exception refused. Baby Blake alone cleared 
 the fence, and that gave me a commanding lead 
 which I never lost. She won by half a length, 
 thanks in no small degree to a gallant sowar, 
 who prevented me just in time from getting off 
 the course. In this steeplechase I was fortunate 
 enough to beat several of the best jockeys of the 
 day in India, including a professional rider, who 
 came in second on Happy Boy, and had been 
 backed for a good deal of money. 
 
 By a curious chance odds of 100 to 1 were 
 offered against Baby Blake during the race, as 
 they were against Maid of the Mist in the 
 South of Ireland Military before the race. It 
 fell about in this way. One of the jockeys my 
 
1 BABY BLAKE' 21 
 
 friend St. Quentin was wearing colours very 
 similar to mine. At the second fence his horse 
 fell ; whereupon there were bets freely offered 
 of 100 to 1 against Baby Blake. One astute 
 party, by the aid of a particularly good pair of 
 field-glasses, perceived the error which the layers 
 of odds had fallen into. He instantly snapped 
 up the long odds, and made a small fortune out 
 of my win. 
 
 The mare, though a very excitable one, was 
 a beautiful fencer when she chose. Whilst I 
 had her, and before I had her, she never lost 
 a race when she did not fall. I recollect once 
 making a " double " like that at Punchestown. 
 She simply flew it. The last I heard of Baby 
 Blake was just before embarking at Bombay for 
 England. She had then very recently won the 
 Lucknow Steeplechase. 
 
 A few days after the race at Cawnpore there 
 was a big event at Meerut, and Baby Blake 
 would have probably won that as well had it 
 not been for her queer temper. No one had 
 ever got a spear off her back, and as this was a 
 sine qua non in the race in question, she could 
 not qualify for it. As I have already said, I 
 missed no opportunity of riding in India. The 
 majority of the horses I rode, both steeplechasing 
 
22 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 and on the flat, belonged to friends. Flat racing 
 has never been exactly my metier, and, frankly, 
 I consider it a much tamer sport on the whole 
 than steeplechasing. At the same time I have 
 now and then ridden on the flat in England, 
 and frequently did so in India. One of the best 
 horses I owned in India was Rock wood, which I 
 bought from Colonel Robartes. Rockwood was 
 certainly very speedy, far above the Indian 
 average. 
 
 The most sensational race I have ever won in 
 my opinion, either at home or abroad, was on 
 Rockwood, the occasion being the First Class 
 Handicap at Lucknow in 1869, the queer end- 
 ing of which has been referred to. I trained 
 Rockwood, who was, like Baby Blake, a 
 <Sx Waler," on a right-handed course, and had 
 to run him at Lucknow on a left-handed one. 
 As a consequence he went clean out of the 
 course. It was quite a business getting his head 
 straight, and I recollect considering whether 
 it was the slightest good to continue the race. 
 Resolving to have a try, though it seemed 
 quite hopeless, I got Rockwood back, started 
 in pursuit of the rest, and eventually won by 
 half a head. I was top weight 11 st. 7 Ibs. 
 but the time for the mile was 1 minute 
 
'BEN' ROBERTS 23 
 
 57 seconds, a remarkable achievement consider- 
 ing the conduct of my mount. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say, that none of the 
 jockeys against whom I was pitted in India are 
 riding to-day. One, however, who was riding 
 at that time in India is still well to the fore in 
 the English racing world Lord Marcus Beres- 
 ford. The best soldier-rider in India at the end 
 of the Sixties was probably " Ben " Koberts. 
 Most racing men know " Ben " well enough 
 by sight at race meetings near town at the 
 present time, where he attends in his official 
 capacity as an officer of the Metropolitan Police. 
 Many too know him as a good fellow and a first- 
 rate sportsman. In India " Ben " on his 
 favourite mount Tomboy was always danger- 
 ous. Good judges never overlaid their book 
 against that pair. 
 
 Amongst other prominent riders of the day in 
 India were Jousiffe, Dignum, and Captain Soames. 
 Of these Dignum was quite the foremost, and 
 indeed the best at that time in India on the flat. 
 He was one of the few men who could sit a 
 regular buck- jumper such as occasionally turned 
 up amongst the " Walers." Without bursting 
 the girths some of these animals could slip the 
 saddle clean on over their heads, 
 
24 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 111 his Indian days Jousitfc could waste to 
 under 9 st. The last time I saw him in. 
 England a few years back he could scarcely 
 have scaled less than eighteen. 
 
 Captain Joy and Lord Marcus Beresford ran 
 a stud between them, and were pretty successful 
 on the flat. To meet Marcus is rightly deemed 
 a pleasure by all save those who are unfortunate 
 enough to come into contact with his fists. But 
 perhaps few people have ever derived such 
 pleasure out of a meeting with him as I did one 
 burning day in 1870. My brother and I had 
 arranged to meet Marcus on that day on the 
 road to Bombay, where his regiment was on 
 the march, and we started by the railway from 
 Allahabad. The line was not at the time quite 
 completed, so we arranged to finish our journey 
 on horseback. But before long my brother's 
 horse dropped from sunstroke, and we were 
 therefore compelled to ride mine in turns. In 
 order to economize time we did it in this way : 
 first I would ride a mile, then tie up my horse 
 and walk on till my brother, now mounted, 
 overtook me ; then I would again ride whilst he 
 followed on foot. In this way we got along at 
 the very respectable rate of about six miles an 
 hour. Marcus saw us coming, and started out to 
 
CHOLERA IN INDIA 25 
 
 meet us with a flagon of delicious iced drink 
 an angel he seemed in earthly guise ! 
 
 In both '68 and '69 we had the cholera with 
 a vengeance in India. Thanks to a good 
 constitution, I was able myself, while others were 
 constantly getting invalided off to the hills, to 
 face the demon with impunity, and both years 
 without once taking a week's leave saw the 
 epidemic run its ghastly course. In sticking to 
 my post, however, it may be admitted that I 
 had to a certain extent an eye to business. 
 An officer who managed to see the cholera 
 through in this way might fairly reckon on 
 getting leave later on for racing purposes. In 
 one instance, during the cholera visitation in 
 1869, I actually had to do duty as chaplain, as 
 the individual who ordinarily filled that post 
 had, in common with most of the officers, made 
 himself scarce for a while. On another occasion 
 I was the acting adjutant and orderly officer. 
 My colonel scolded me severely for coming 
 out during the most deadly hours of the day, 
 and remarked half seriously and half jocularly, 
 " I shall put you under arrest, sir, if you do it 
 again." Whereupon I pointed out as a deterrent, 
 that I was the only officer fit for duty. " Well," 
 said he discreetly, " then I won't do so." 
 
26 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRE8PIGNY 
 
 Shortly after this 1869 visitation of the 
 cholera I asked for leave in order to get away 
 from Seetapore, where we were quartered, and 
 take part in the races at Soriepore. I accord- 
 ingly asked my colonel for a week's extension 
 of my leave ; he quite approved, but had not 
 the authority to give it. The general officer 
 in command, namely, General Brooke Taylor, 
 was the person who possessed the requisite 
 authority. As it happened he was away tiger- 
 shooting, and his place filled by a man who 
 evidently burned to make his temporary power 
 felt. The substitute promptly refused the 
 necessary permission. I wired to my colonel 
 to know whether leave had been granted. 
 The reply came that it was refused. Eegard- 
 ing this as very shabby treatment after the 
 way in which I had stuck to my post during 
 the cholera, I felt justified in mistaking the 
 tenor of the telegram, and wired back thanks. 
 I was just beginning to enjoy the leave of 
 absence that had not been granted, when a fresh 
 message arrived couched in a rather peremptory 
 tone, and very reluctantly I had to return. 
 Afterwards, when I mentioned the way in which 
 I had been treated to General Brooke Taylor, 
 he very handsomely expressed his regret, and 
 
SHABBY TREATMENT 27 
 
 declared that had te been at his post he would 
 have granted the request himself without a 
 moment's hesitation. Nevertheless the thing 
 made me very sore, and, combined with the 
 infamous terms of my father's will, had a good 
 deal to do with my resolve, carried out a short 
 time afterwards, to quit the service. 
 
 My position at Lucknow on my way back 
 from Sonepore was rather humorous in a way 
 when I was in correspondence about my leave 
 of absence. The Brigade Major urged me not 
 to go on the course whatever I did, lest the 
 General should put me under arrest ; and at 
 the very same time an officer high in command 
 sent me the message, " For goodness' sake don't 
 show yourself on the course, for if you do the 
 Brigade Major will put you under arrest ! " As 
 I could not ride a horse of my own at Sonepore 
 I asked a friend to do so, and drove up in a 
 closed conveyance to see him, so I fondly hoped, 
 win the race. Instead I saw my horse bolt off, and 
 disappear at length like a speck on the horizon. 
 
 Once I ordered a breakfast against the Lahore 
 Races which cost 6000. So at any rate declared 
 so well-informed an organ as the Gaulois. The 
 same paper volunteered the information that I 
 was " worth millions of money," though content 
 
28 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 to occupy " the modest rank of an officer in the 
 British Army." The breakfast included in the 
 way of drinkables " eighty dozen bottles of 
 champagne, eight hundred bottles of Bordeaux, 
 eight hundred bottles of Burgundy," besides 
 brandy ad lib. To cap this extraordinary tale 
 I actually, according to the same authority, paid 
 the bill! The real facts about the "breakfast" 
 were these. It was a picnic at Seetapore, at 
 which about a dozen friends were present. 
 After we had finished it was the bandsmen's 
 turn. They certainly did themselves hand- 
 somely, drinking liqueur out of the finger-glasses. 
 Afterwards the music they played was wild and 
 wandering. 
 
 In lieu of big-game shooting and pig-sticking, 
 which were rather too costly forms of amuse- 
 ment for me to combine with racing and 
 chasing, I took very kindly to snipe-shooting. 
 "Joe," alias Arthur Bagot of ours, was very 
 keen on this sport, and between us we perhaps 
 accounted for as many snipe as most guns in 
 India during the two seasons we were shooting. 
 We got to fancy ourselves so much that we 
 challenged any two officers in the regiment to 
 back their breech against our muzzle-loaders. 
 But the challenge was not taken up. 
 
tiNIPE SHOOTING 29 
 
 Another of ray .companions out sniping was 
 Captain Thackwell of the 5th Lancers, a very 
 popular soldier in India in those days. Well, 
 I recollect a friendly little bet Thackwell and 
 I once had as to who would make the best bag 
 in the day. We had actually tied when day- 
 light failed ; but on our way home in the dusk 
 Thackwell by a piece of good luck got an 
 unexpected shot, and knocked over his snipe. 
 A kite swooped down and picked it up. 
 Thackwell, who was unloaded, thought he alone 
 had twigged what the bird of prey had done 
 on my behalf. He slyly tried to say very 
 casually, " I say, tickle up that kite, old fellow," 
 but his anxiety was obvious enough. "Very 
 well," said I, suiting my action to his word ; 
 "but of course the snipe will go to my bag," 
 to which he could not very well demur. Poor 
 chap, he was killed by a tiger a few days 
 after, or rather died from the shock of an 
 operation which had to be performed on him, 
 owing to the terrible way in which he had been 
 mauled in the jungle. 
 
 In the old Oriental Sporting Magazine I came 
 across the following, written evidently by one of 
 his great friends " Killed by a Tiger. In a 
 foreign land far from his own country and his 
 
30 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 own people, but not from his friends, for lie had 
 many, died yesterday morning at Baraitch in 
 Oude, from wounds inflicted by a tiger, Captain 
 F. I. R. Thackwell, H.M.'s 5th Lancers one of 
 the finest of soldiers, a true-hearted English 
 gentleman, and as thorough a sportsman as ever 
 lived. The regiment can ill afford to lose such 
 an officer, and to us that knew him such a friend. 
 There are many far away in the old country 
 who a very few months ago were sharing with 
 him in the wild sports of India, who will not be 
 ashamed to find their eyes wet, when they read 
 the sad account of the death of one of the 
 many good fellows whose resting-place is in this 
 distant land, so far from many but not from all 
 who loved him. Lucknow, June 25, 1869." 
 
 In India too I had occasional opportunities for 
 pigeon shooting, a sport for which I had acquired 
 a decided taste in Ireland. Shooting once in the 
 distressful country, I was successful in dividing a 
 good sweepstake with Colonel Chalmer, who now 
 commands one of our battalions. Much later 
 on, and long after my return to England from 
 India, I again tried my skill at pigeon shooting, 
 and was rather successful in the Grand Inter- 
 national at Brighton in 1886, though I had had 
 no practice. At twenty-five, twenty-seven, and 
 
PIGEON SHOOTING AT BRIGHTON 31 
 
 tweuty-nine yards I killed all my birds except 
 one. The last pigeon I shot fell just out of 
 bounds, so I had to rest content with third prize ; 
 Vaughan and Blake being respectively first and 
 second. My pigeon shooting, however, has been 
 decidedly spasmodic, and since then I don't 
 think that I have killed a bird over a trap in 
 any important contest. 
 
 The period during which I was stationed in 
 India was a very interesting one from a 
 military as well as a sporting point of view. In 
 the end of the Sixties those three superb regi- 
 ments, Probyn's Horse, Kobartes' Horse, and 
 Hodgson's Horse, were still in their prime. 
 There are probably very few soldiers acquainted 
 with those regiments who would declare that their 
 disbandment for such it practically was 
 worked wholly for the good of the service. 
 Having seen more than a little of the re<n- 
 
 o o 
 
 ments, and noted their unrivalled smartness 
 and efficiency, I have never doubted that it 
 was sheer folly to do anything but encourage 
 the system. Colonel Robartes never took the 
 trouble to keep exact accounts of what he spent 
 on his regiment. He was a rich man, and his 
 generosity in the patriotic work of making 
 Robartes' Horse the first cavalry force in the 
 
32 MEMOIRS OP SIR CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 world knew no bounds. When he was called 
 upon to render an exact account, he could not 
 do so, and he was therefore never repaid. It 
 was no secret that the Government remained his 
 debtor to an amount not far short of twenty 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 Colonel now Sir Dighton Probyn was the 
 ideal man for a regiment such as he actually 
 commanded. There was a glamour about his 
 achievements in the Indian Mutiny which 
 appealed irresistibly to every one, and made him 
 in particular the idol of his men. The single- 
 handed combats against the leading mutineers 
 in which he had often ensja^ed, and being a 
 
 O O ' O 
 
 splendid swordsman always successfully, had a 
 spice of old-world romance about them that made 
 him one of the most interesting figures in the 
 military history of the time quite a modern 
 Bayard. The picture of Lord Cardigan, the 
 "rigid Hussar," as Kinglake has finely called 
 him, leading his men down the valley of death at 
 Balaclava, which we have all drawn in imagin- 
 ation, is scarcely a more stirring one than that 
 of this most distinguished officer coming forth 
 from the ranks as a warrior of old, and chal- 
 lenging to personal combat the foeman most 
 worthy of his steel. This it was that laid 
 
COLONEL BAGOT 33 
 
 the solid foundations of Sir Dighton Probyn's 
 fame. 
 
 In recalling these Indian experiences I have 
 found myself at a considerable disadvantage, 
 owing to the fact that my diaries were destroyed 
 some time since, so I may frankly confess that no 
 mention has been made of the particulars of a 
 good many races which I won, simply because 
 they are not obtainable. Before leaving India, 
 however, I ought to say something about two of 
 the most famous story tellers in the double 
 sense of that time. My memory certainly does 
 not fail me in relation to Colonel Bagot cousin 
 to my friend Joe of that ilk and Colonel Oakes, 
 who must not be confused with the rough old 
 leader of the 12th Lancers. 
 
 Both were in the Indian Army. Bagot was 
 unquestionably a very fine shot at big game, 
 but some of his accounts of sport seemed a trifle 
 over coloured even to the most credulous people. 
 So much fun could be got out of him that he 
 was often invited to dinners, etc., simply to 
 amuse the company with his Munchausen tales. 
 Once he was asked to the Government House 
 on the off-chance of his spinning some ex- 
 ceptionally fine yarns : nor did he disappoint. 
 After the wine began to circulate Bagot got into 
 
 D 
 
34 MEMOIRS OF Sill CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 great form, and told one story which perhaps 
 eclipsed even Oakes' best efforts in the same 
 field. He was very anxious, he related, to 
 secure a pair of fine horns, and accordingly went 
 out shooting. As good luck would have it, he 
 speedily came across two magnificent stags, and 
 shot them both. " Would you believe it ? " said 
 Bagot, "at the very moment I dropped them 
 right and left they shed their horns ! " 
 
 A story which has been told in many ways of 
 many people can be properly related in con- 
 nection with Bagot. He once boasted to a 
 friend about an exploit in snipe shooting, when 
 he killed, so he said, forty-nine birds in as many 
 shots. "Why not make it fifty while you are 
 about it?" inquired a cynical listener. "Sir," 
 quoth Bagot with befitting gravity, " do you 
 suppose I would risk my immortal soul for the 
 sake of a single snipe ! " 
 
 Bagot did not hide from the world how very 
 shabbily he had been treated by the powers that 
 be. During the Mutiny he had been put in 
 command of a body of cavalry with injunctions 
 to attack certain villages. "By gad, Sir, I 
 carried out my injunctions splendidly," he would 
 say; " we killed an enormous number of men, 
 women, and children. Now, what do you 
 
BAGOT WOUNDED BY A TIGER 35 
 
 think they did for me after that ? " His hearers, 
 usually knowing well enough, would artfully run 
 through a list of distinctions including the V. C. 
 As each one was mentioned Bagot would shake 
 his head vigorously. Then at length, the 
 guesser having quite exhausted the list of 
 possible distinctions, Bagot would declare in 
 outraged tones, "Sir, I give you my word of 
 honour they tried me by court-martial ! " 
 
 Though a romancist, Bagot was a man of 
 pluck and resource. Out tiger shooting, however, 
 one day, he seems to have made a grave 
 mistake. In the company of a friend he fol- 
 lowed a wounded tiger into the jungle. His 
 friend, the present Lord Downe, was suddenly 
 attacked by the creature, and Bagot came to the 
 rescue. Whereupon the tiger turned its atten- 
 tion to him, and seizing his leg, snapped it. 
 Bagot's life, I believe, was saved by the head 
 shikari, who shot the beast as it mauled its 
 victim. The rashness of following a wounded 
 tiger into the jungle has been commented on by 
 several prominent big-game shooters. Captain 
 Doig lost his life in this manner in 1868, and 
 Sir J. Dormer, Commander-in-Chief at Madras, 
 also followed a wounded animal, and received 
 wounds which killed him. A man to follow a 
 
36 MEMOIES OF SIti CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 tiger under such circumstances cannot watch 
 both front and flanks, which is obviously the 
 work of three men, and a disaster is therefore 
 very likely to take place. 
 
 Strange and sad was poor Bagot's end. After 
 this encounter, and when invalided home, he 
 swore to return and have his revenge on the 
 tigers. He did return, and set out into the 
 jungle, taking with him two kinds of powders 
 arsenic for preparing the skins of the beasts 
 he might shoot, and baking-powder for bread. 
 He had not been out long before the servant 
 confused the two powders, and the master took 
 arsenic in his food by mistake. 
 
 The " hen-coop tale " has been told in con- 
 nection with various men, but there is reason to 
 believe that Bagot is the real hero of it. As 
 Bagot told the story, he was wrecked in the 
 Indian Ocean, and managed to save himself by 
 clinging to a hen-coop. After a while he became 
 quite at home on the hen-coop, and made for 
 Aden. He met a steamer on the way thither, 
 and the captain offered to take him on board. 
 Bagot asked where the steamer was going to, 
 and the reply was Bombay. " But I am going 
 to Aden, thanks," said Bagot, " so I'm afraid I 
 must decline your kind offer." Thus they 
 
THE ' HEN-COOP TALE' 37 
 
 parted, Bagot merely accepting the loan of a few 
 biscuits and some ship's rum to keep him going 
 till Aden was reached. Once when Bagot was 
 telling this adventure of his he ended up with, 
 " Good fellow that captain ; I have never met 
 him since." A naval man present thought he 
 would take a rise out of him ; so he cut in 
 with, "Give me your hand, sir; I was that 
 captain ! " Not for a moment at a loss, Bagot 
 said, " Oh yes, old fellow, of course ! I had 
 quite forgotten you ! I think you have grown 
 your beard since then." 
 
 Oakes must have got shockingly muddled 
 about racing when in the early sixties he came 
 home on leave of absence. He spoke to me 
 about Kupee winning the Oaks. I rather 
 fancied I knew something about the subject, so 
 ventured to take exception to this statement. 
 Oakes persisted, and offered to bet me a gold 
 mohur he was right. I took the bet, and we 
 then consulted the authorities. There we found 
 that Eupee had won, not the Oaks, but the 
 Ascot Cup, a vastly different affair. Oakes 
 paid his bet and admitted his error, explaining 
 that he had seen so much racing about that 
 time that he had confounded Epsom with Ascot ! 
 
 These two inveterate raconteurs were, bv the 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 way, popularly represented as being rather afraid 
 of one another. Each thoroughly recognized no 
 doubt the other's reputation for wonderful tales. 
 They accordingly avoided meeting as much as 
 possible, and when it was said in the presence of 
 Oakes, " By the way, Bagot's been invited," or, 
 " By the way, shall we invite Bagot ? " he would 
 reply, " Well, between you and me Bagot's the 
 biggest liar in all India." Bagot for his part 
 used to express himself quite as freely about 
 Oakes. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 SPORT AT HOME AND ABROAD 
 
 Much " ramping " at Childerditch Foul play on the turf 
 Betting Concerning allegations of " pulling " A 
 tramp through the Franco-Prussian War Threatened 
 by an Amiens mob Chantilly Getting to the front 
 Choosing balloons Another ugly hitch at Amiens The 
 Duke of Hamilton's racing stud at Chantilly A famous 
 match Malortie's duel Canoeing A row on Hunger- 
 ford Bridge An indignant cabby The waiter and his 
 pepper-pot Lord Glasgow's little bill A daring ruse 
 The Prince of "Wales' narrow escape Lord Charles 
 Beresford Sailoring days War between North and 
 South " Laura Bell " An attempted practical joke 
 Fighting with a broken finger Sport in Ireland 
 Some remarkable jumps Swimming. 
 
 I ARRIVED home from India in the spring of 
 1870, and almost immediately afterwards left the 
 service to be precise, I retired from the army 
 on April 27th, 1870, having served with the 
 60th about four years. Before I had been back 
 many weeks I planned out a little chasing for 
 myself in the waning of the season. It hap- 
 pened that a meeting was being arranged at 
 
 39 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Childerditch, which is outside Lord Petre's place, 
 Thorndon Park, close to Brentwood. I secured a 
 mare, which, in affectionate memory of my best 
 Indian mount, was named Baby Blake. But 
 she was a poor jade compared with the superb 
 fencer on whom I won the great Cawnpore 
 race, and could not carry my colours nearer 
 victory than third place. My old friend and 
 companion Billy White was riding that day. 
 Billy was my first instructor in riding, and 
 blooded me with the Essex and Suffolk Hounds, 
 at the tender age of seven years. 
 
 This Childerditch meeting was remarkable in 
 more ways than one. I was boasting just now 
 of having ridden for twenty-nine years, and 
 into my forty-ninth year. But there rode at 
 Childerditch, and rode bravely, a man of no less 
 than seventy years of age, namely, Briant, 
 a horse-dealer of repute in that part of the 
 world. A steeplechaser of well over seventy 
 years of age seems to me at least as remarkable 
 in his own province as a Prime Minister like 
 Mr. Gladstone of over eighty. I should think 
 that the case of Briant is almost unique, and 
 have certainly only heard of one other which 
 at all compares with it, namely, that of Lord 
 Buchan. I had it from Lord Buchan himself 
 
'RAMPING' AT GHILDERDITGH 41 
 
 that he rode and won a race in the Isle of 
 Wight after he* had passed his seventieth year. 
 After the race, however, he fell off from utter ex- 
 haustion, whereas Briant was comparatively fresh. 
 But Childerditch was remarkable in another, 
 and much less creditable, respect. It was noto- 
 rious that some of the most flagrant " ramping ;> 
 on record took place at that meeting. In one 
 race there were three horses running in the 
 same interest. Now the order had undoubtedly 
 been given to win with one of these horses, 
 and that probably not the favourite. But the 
 horse kept on refusing, and the jockeys on the 
 other two horses didn't know what to do. They 
 dared not come on, and so commenced falling 
 all over the place in a pretty palpable manner. 
 At this point a well-known dresser, who only 
 died very recently, was observed by those who 
 noticed what was proceeding, to go down and 
 give them the requisite directions. When he 
 came back he very properly got his head punched 
 for his trouble, though that no doubt he or at 
 any rate his gang of rascally associates regarded 
 as a detail. Lord Petre was greatly shocked 
 at these scandalous proceedings, so much so 
 that he actually took the extreme course of 
 abolishing the meeting. 
 
42 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 This is one of the worst instances of swindling 
 which has ever come under my notice through- 
 out my racing and chasing career. Probably 
 I have ridden at a good many meetings where 
 foul play has been manifest to many experienced 
 observers ; but the seamy side of horse-racing is 
 always more likely to present itself to persons 
 who have considerable financial interests at stake 
 than to those who ride from sheer love of the 
 sport. I have' never made it my business to 
 look very closely into these matters, except of 
 course when they have obviously affected my 
 chances of winning, because I have never 
 gambled to any extent on horses. We most 
 of us have an occasional side bet of a sovereign 
 or two on an event which interests us. Even 
 Lord Falmouth himself is recorded to have 
 backed one of his horses on a certain occasion 
 to win him a small silver coin, and I will frankly 
 confess that when I have believed myself to be 
 the possessor of a really good bit of information, 
 I have frequently had a trifle on. But that is 
 all. It is my belief that betting regularly on 
 horse-racing, whether on the course or over 
 the tape, is a very poor game except to the 
 very few who give up all their time and 
 energy to it, and can reckon on really 
 
BETTING 43 
 
 information. 1 Even then a man finds it passing 
 difficult to reckon on making a sure income 
 every year, as the bookmakers now lay far 
 shorter odds than formerly. 
 
 Eogues there doubtless are, and to spare, 
 connected with horse-racing. It is inevitable 
 that a sport, so indissolubly connected with 
 gambling, should draw round itself a large 
 crowd of blacklegs and pilferers. Indeed it 
 is perfectly safe to lay it down as a hard and 
 fast rule that no sport or game in which betting 
 is a feature can remain utterly incorruptible. 
 Idle is it, therefore, to attempt to whitewash 
 the dark side of horse-racing. I was reading 
 only the other day, in the Pall Mall Gazette, 
 the letter of " a regular race-goer," who takes 
 up the cudgels - on behalf of his favourite 
 sport. Some of his arguments are ingenious, 
 but unsound. He asserts that there are 
 probably not a dozen owners now running race- 
 horses in England who would order them top 
 be " pulled." This may be so, though scarcely 
 owing to the reason given, namely, that such 
 a "pulling" order would place the owner and 
 trainer for ever after in the power of the 
 
 1 And even the "very few" generally end by getting 
 < '-broke/ ' B. 
 
44 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 jockey ; a jockey's word is not better than 
 that of an owner or a trainer; and besides, 
 if the jockey obeyed, he would in his own 
 interests keep his mouth closed. There are 
 other ways of preventing a horse from winning 
 a race besides that of "pulling." A horse can 
 be " stuffed " before the race ; that is probably 
 a much safer, and an equally sure, method of 
 accomplishing the sinister design. I recollect 
 once a well-known cross-country jockey imme- 
 diately after dismounting in a race, give the 
 owner the last thing in the world he expected 
 
 or bargained for. "You villain!" said 
 
 he; "you 'stuffed' that horse. Never you 
 ask me to ride for you again ! " si sic 
 omnes ! 
 
 " Good things " in racing and betting often 
 tarn out to be the worst things. Once I prided 
 myself on having made what I regarded as a 
 really nice little wager with the Duke of Hamilton. 
 We were discussing the weights horses had 
 carried in the Grand National, and referring 
 to Cortolvin, which had no less than 11 st. 
 13 Ibs. on his back, the heaviest impost ever 
 carried to victory at Liverpool, excepting that 
 of Cloister, I mentioned the horse as winning 
 in '66. The Duke said no, he won in '67. 
 
WAGEE WITH DUKE OF HAMILTON 45 
 
 I was perfectly, certain that '66 was the year, 
 and the Duke equally so that '67 was correct. 
 He was so certain that he offered to bet 100 
 to 1, and I said, "Well, I must take that, 
 Duke." So 100 to 1 in sovereigns was laid 
 twice and taken. We referred to the Turf Guide, 
 and found that '67 was the year. The weights 
 used to come out much earlier in those times, 
 and the betting also commenced earlier in con- 
 sequence, and this it evidently was that had 
 deceived me. The Duke of Hamilton was a 
 very difficult man to catch tripping in a matter 
 of this kind. 
 
 Of course it is a fact that a backer who keeps 
 his eyes open and watches his chances carefully, 
 may sometimes get the better of the book- 
 makers. A remarkable instance of this was 
 
 given me by Lord . He had backed Blue 
 
 Gown to win him a substantial sum in the 
 Champagne Stakes. Blue Gown won, but was 
 disqualified. Wells was a carelessly inclined 
 jockey, and in this case would not take the 
 trouble to waste. As a result he scaled over- 
 weight, and a pile of money on Blue Gown 
 was lost by backers. My friend had arranged 
 to put his Blue Gown winnings counting his 
 chickens, after the manner of many backers, 
 
46 MEMOIMS OF UIR CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 before they were hatched on Achievement 
 for the Leger. Unfortunately he had none to 
 put, otherwise he would have been something 
 like ten thousand pounds in pocket. Deter- 
 mined to make up for his Blue Gown disap- 
 pointment, if possible, he went to two or 
 three hole-in-the-corner meetings in Scotland, 
 whither he knew several of the big book-makers 
 were pursuing that plunger of plungers, Lord 
 Hastings. It was a case of the pursuers pur- 
 sued ! He having good information at his 
 disposal won no less than six thousand pounds 
 at these pottering little Scotch meetings. 
 
 I would not have any one suppose from these 
 views, expressed perhaps with " brutal frank- 
 ness," that I am joining in the hue-and-cry 
 of the hysterical folk who regard horse-racing 
 as the most iniquitous of sports, and support 
 the ridiculous movement of the Anti-gambling 
 League. On the contrary, I lost no time in 
 setting down my name for what it was worth 
 on the list of the Association which very pro- 
 perly commenced what amounted to a counter 
 campaign. In the first place, the attempt to 
 stop people from betting by such means as the 
 Anti-gambling League are adopting notably 
 their wild attack on the Jockey Club is, I 
 
THE ANTI-GAMBLING LEAGUE 47 
 
 believe, utterly fatuous ; and, in the second 
 place, the movement is in reality a thinly veiled 
 one, not only against gambling, but also against 
 the national sport of horse-racing into the bargain. 
 It is a monstrous thing to try and discredit 
 and injure this our noblest and most national 
 sport, simply because it has the misfortune to 
 be used as the means of gambling by those who 
 are more interested in the odds than the horses 
 or the horsemanship. Fortunately the sporting 
 instinct seems to-day stronger than ever amongst 
 all classes, and the tide is not likely to be 
 stemmed by a few faddists whose programme 
 is to carry the war into the camp of no less a 
 force than human nature itself, by the aid of 
 grandmotherly legislation and frivolous actions 
 against a body of gentlemen who represent the 
 best traditions of the turf, and do not a little 
 to make horse-racing a pure and honourable 
 pursuit. 
 
 Childerditch was the only English meeting in 
 which I rode in the spring of 1870. The season 
 was indeed then practically over, nor had I 
 many opportunities of racing or chasing for 
 some time to come. The summer and autumn 
 of that year were whiled away for the most part 
 in small and miscellaneous sport and pastime. 
 
48 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 It was in the summer of 1870 that wars and 
 rumours of wars eventually took shape and form 
 in the declaration of hostilities between France 
 and Germany on July 19, 1870. This occurred 
 to me as a capital opportunity to see a little 
 service abroad, and I crossed the Channel with 
 the object of getting, if it were possible, to 
 the front. 
 
 Arrived at Amiens via Ostend and Brussels, I 
 found a fair going on, and mixed freely amongst 
 the crowd. Something in my personal appear- 
 ance, or in the faultiness of my accent, I suppose, 
 conveyed the impression that I was a German 
 spy. A mob of angry Frenchmen soon began 
 to gather round, and being quite alone and 
 defenceless save for my fists, it occurred to me 
 that for once in a way a retreat would be 
 discreet. Therefore I retired leisurely to my 
 hotel, followed by the suspicious mob. The 
 Commissaire of Police was sent for, but after 
 talking with me and seeing my passport, he 
 expressed himself as quite satisfied that my 
 business was a legitimate one. He recom- 
 mended me, however, to get out of Amiens as 
 speedily as possible. I hired a conveyance and 
 left the town with all despatch at midnight. 
 My driver knew the ropes well, and managed 
 
AT CHANTILLY 49 
 
 most skilfully to get me past all the francs 
 tireurs. Eventually, though not without some 
 ugly-looking hitches, Claremont was reached. 
 
 Subsequently I walked on to Chantilly, and 
 here I was hospitably received by Colonel 
 McCall, the factor of the Due d'Aumale. I 
 offered to join the Saxon Uhlans, but they 
 were not in need of any fresh men, and 
 accordingly I had to cast about for some other 
 way of seeing a little active service, and 
 of getting to the front. A young Prussian 
 Lieutenant in the Garde Cuirassiers, named 
 Schwartz, gave me the opening. Whilst waiting 
 for the bombardment of Paris, he and other 
 officers had been enjoying a little sport in the 
 way of steeplechasing at Chantilly, and this 
 was how I came to know the young lieutenant. 
 One day, when walking in the forest, I met 
 Schwartz with several others in a waggon. He 
 told me that they were going to the front, and 
 asked would I join them. I did so forthwith. 
 
 The Saxon Uhlans were a splendid body of 
 cavalry, and more active than the Cuirassiers, 
 owing to the fact that they carried far less 
 weight. They inspired many of the French 
 troops with a very wholesome dread. At least 
 one-third of the cuirasses were struck in the 
 
50 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 course of the war. At about 300 yards the 
 bullets of the French rifles would penetrate 
 their breast-plates, which however were effective 
 against fire at 350 yards and greater distances. 
 
 At Chantilly I had left my kit at Colonel 
 McCall's. It was sent for after I had gone to 
 the front with Schwartz, and after passing 
 through a great number of hands came back 
 to me intact. To show how remarkable was 
 the organization in the Prussian Army at this 
 time, I may mention that even the cognac in 
 my flask had not been touched. The most 
 careful inventory had been kept of everything 
 in the kit, down to a novel, the name of which 
 had been copied out on the receipt form which 
 was handed to me for signature. 
 
 Very soon I was fortunate enough to get to 
 St. Denis just outside Paris, and here in com- 
 pany with Prince Wreda saw something in the 
 nature of active service. At night-time both 
 sides would often send out advance guards, so 
 that the combatants tended to get closer and 
 closer to each other. We were within a hundred 
 and fifty yards or so of the French lines on at 
 least one occasion. In the morning these advance 
 guards would retire. 
 
 I usually too joined one of the parties that 
 
BALLOON HUNTING 51 
 
 were sent out after the balloons which ascended 
 from Paris in numbers for the purpose of dis- 
 seminating false information about the state 
 of things prevailing in the front. These balloons 
 were of a small size, and as they travelled at no 
 great height, we were sometimes able to riddle 
 them with bullets. We used to fire at them with 
 the French chassepot rifles which had been 
 taken in action or else flung away by fugitives. 
 The chassepot was a better weapon than the 
 Prussian needle-gun. It was perhaps this balloon 
 hunting which first sowed in me an ineradicable 
 passion for aeronautics. 
 
 Though I had some good fun with the 
 Prussians, and was hospitably entertained, I 
 scarcely liked to overstay my welcome, especially 
 as there was very little food for very many 
 mouths. So back I started to Chantilly, and 
 after again receiving hospitality from McCall, 
 went on to Amiens. I travelled a great deal 
 on foot, and was in all arrested three times. 
 When at length I reached Amiens, I found 
 myself once more in hot water amongst the 
 townsfolk. I was suspected, arrested as a spy, 
 and taken before the head of the police not 
 my friend of a prior occasion. My position 
 looked a very nasty one indeed, followed as I 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 was by an angry and threatening mob of French- 
 men. But again I was treated with much 
 consideration. It happened that I had with 
 me first, the accounts of the Due d'Aumale's 
 estate which Colonel McCall had entrusted 
 to my hands, asking me to carry them back 
 to England and deposit them in safe keeping 
 there ; and secondly, a number of cartoons which 
 severely caricatured various things and people 
 French. The first packet aroused the suspicions 
 of the people who arrested me, the second their 
 fury. But the head of the Amiens police 
 having glanced at the seal of the Due d'Aumale 
 on my first packet, and learnt my name and 
 nationality, courteously sent me on my way 
 rejoicing. Shortly afterwards I was crossing 
 the Channel. The accounts of the Chantilly 
 estates I sent upon reaching England to Coutts', 
 where they were safely lodged. 
 
 Though I am bound to say that I found the 
 Prussian soldiers most kind and obliging, it 
 seems that some of them acted with marked 
 meanness towards Colonel McCall, who had 
 shown them every hospitality at the chateau. 
 Despite the fact that he had invited some of 
 the officers to dinner, and stood them the best 
 wine in his cellar, they sent him an imperious 
 
COLONEL McCALL 53 
 
 message on the following day to the effect that 
 they required at once, I think something like 
 a hundred dozen bottles of champagne. Eather 
 scurvy treatment this after the hospitality they 
 had received. McCall replied that he had not 
 so much in his private cellar. 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton had a racing stud at 
 Chantilly at the time hostilities commenced 
 between France and Germany. His horses were 
 sent back to England in the midst of the war, 
 but not, I was told, before one or two attempts 
 had been made to seize them for military 
 purposes. I am not sure both the French and 
 Germans did not meditate annexing the stud. 
 Some German soldiers, at any rate, actually made 
 a raid on the stables, and as luck would have 
 it first entered into the stall of an old horse 
 called the Czar. He was a regular Tartar, 
 and savagely went for the intruders, who 
 promptly showed the white feather. They 
 probably adjudged after this that the stud 
 was one to be avoided, and made no further 
 attempt to annex it for their own purposes. 
 
 The Duke of Hamilton, by the way, was, 
 though a thorough Englishman, related rather 
 closely to most influential personages on both 
 sides in this Franco-Prussian War. He was 
 
54 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 nephew of the Grand Duke of Baden, and cousin 
 of the Emperor of the French. Hence he was 
 called the "International Duke." Under the 
 circumstances, it was rather too bad of the 
 combatants trying to seize his racing stud. 
 
 The Duke was known amongst his friends 
 as a capital all-round sportsman. With the 
 gloves he used to be a pretty hard hitter 
 a few years ago. Once he was sparring with 
 
 a mutual friend W . W tapped the 
 
 Duke several times in a very short space of 
 time, and a professional who was witnessing the 
 bout criticized the latter's method of defence. 
 " Put on the gloves yourself then and try him," 
 was the retort. The professional did, and was 
 speedily floored no less than three times by the 
 amateur, who was undoubtedly a very clever 
 boxer. 
 
 Chantilly was the scene of the Duke's famous 
 match in the Sixties with Baron Malortie. This 
 match was to ride from Paris to Chantilly and 
 back. The Duke just outside Chantilly gal- 
 loped clean into a heavily-laden market cart, 
 and fairly spread-eagled its contents ; so he 
 never got over the second half of the course 
 at all. Malortie was a duellist of renown in 
 those days. 
 
MALORTIES DUEL 55 
 
 Baron Malortie, Bismarck's nephew, whom I 
 used at one time to see a good deal of, had 
 been engaged in many affairs of honour. Several 
 of his duels have become famous. Once when 
 the ground had been paced, and it only remained 
 to give the word to fire, a sergeant sprung out 
 of the bushes hard by, and ordered the combat- 
 ants to lower their pistols. Malortie recognized 
 in the unwelcome intruder a comrade who had 
 fought with him all through the Mexican War. 
 He reproached him bitterly for the interference. 
 The sergeant was touched by Malor tie's reproach, 
 and expressed his regret that the combatants 
 had not chosen their ground on the other side 
 of the road, for if the duel had only taken place 
 there he would not have felt it necessary to 
 interfere, as it would have been beyond his 
 limits. Next morning the duellists met again, 
 and fought out their quarrel uninterrupted. 
 Malortie fired too hastily, missed his aim, and 
 was thus placed at the mercy of his antagonist. 
 He crossed his arms, exclaiming that he would 
 be shot like a man and not like a dog. He was 
 hurt, but not mortally wounded. Lying on the 
 ground, Malortie was too proud to allow his foe 
 to see how badly he was hurt, and so requested 
 his second to give him a cigar. Malortie was 
 
56 MEMOIRS OF Sin CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 constantly engaged at one period of his life in 
 fighting men who abused his beloved Hanover. 
 
 The Baron was a pleasant raconteur in 
 matters other than duelling. He would tell 
 how, when on the Staff of Maximilian's General, 
 and dining a party of four, the Emperor, the 
 General, and their two aides-de-camp, he had 
 the honour to give the former a glass of par- 
 ticularly good Madeira. The Emperor had 
 expressed a desire for some Madeira, and the 
 General reminded Malortie of a very fine sample 
 which he possessed. The wine was produced, 
 and Maximilian praised it greatly. He naturally 
 asked where it came from. With a respect- 
 ful request that the information might not go 
 any further, Malortie informed the astonished 
 Emperor that it came from his own caterer. 
 
 The ducal stud at Chantilly was under the 
 well-known trainer, Mr. Planner. I met him 
 there for the first time, and had some interesting 
 conversation with him concerning matters equine. 
 The next time we met was under very different 
 circumstances, on Lambourne Downs, when I was 
 tramping through peaceful England from Oxford 
 to Southampton. 
 
 The few years following my dash into the 
 midst of the Franco-Prussian War offered 
 
CANOEING 57 
 
 comparatively few opportunites for sport and 
 adventure. My riding was chiefly confined to the 
 hunting field, though I occasionally turned up 
 where practicable at a cross-country meeting, 
 and put in from time to time a good deal of 
 miscellaneous sport of lesser kinds. In the 
 summer of 1871, for instance, I did much 
 canoeing, chiefly in the Thames and its tribu- 
 taries. I had acquired a little knowledge and 
 taste for this pleasant form of aquatics in Nova 
 Scotia, where I was stationed for some time when 
 a lad, and serving in the Eoyal Navy, and 
 accordingly, in lieu of more stirring forms of 
 amusement and exercise, took to it again during 
 that summer. Frequently I used to go well out 
 to sea in my Rob Roy or single-sculling boat, and 
 spend nearly the whole day on the water. 
 There are adventures to be got even out of what 
 seems rather a tame kind of amusement to many 
 who prefer sterner modes of sport. I recollect 
 one aquatic adventure in particular. I was out 
 between Ryde and Southsea one evening when a 
 blinding mist came on, and soon completely hid 
 the dim outline of the land. There chanced to be 
 a wind blowing, which I knew would take me 
 right into Southsea. Eventually I reached the 
 shore, which I subsequently hugged, about half- 
 
58 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE ORESPIGNY 
 
 a-mile to the west of the Gilkicker Fort. The 
 mist was as impenetrable to the eye as a dense 
 London fog. 
 
 About this period of my life I was compelled 
 to spend a good deal of time in London, being 
 engaged in legal proceedings. People outside 
 my immediate circle of friends and relatives can 
 scarcely be expected to take much .interest in 
 a matter of purely private import like this, and 
 I should not mention the matter were it not 
 for the fact that the press has at various times 
 commented on the legal results of a particularly 
 cruel Will, which has hampered me throughout my 
 life, and brought me into contact with the 
 cumbrous and costly machinery of the English 
 law. The law is one of the few things which, 
 I have now come to the conclusion, it behoves 
 every sensible man to flee from. But no man 
 can tamely submit to great injustices. 
 
 Exercise is as daily bread to me, so that a 
 little London life goes a long way. But besides 
 walking, I sometimes found in London a form of 
 exercise which entailed a vigorous use of the 
 arms. About three- or four-and-twenty years 
 ago it was a quite common thing to meet at 
 night time a band of half-a-dozen or more young 
 men probably for the most part they were com- 
 
.1 HOW ON HUNGERFORD BRIDGE 59 
 
 posed of shop assistants walking the streets 
 with linked arms, with the object of driving 
 unoffending foot passengers off the pavement. 
 They marched along in much the same way as 
 the undergrads at Oxford used to do in days of 
 town and gown rows. Once crossing Hungerford 
 Bridge with a companion I was confronted with 
 such a body of amateur bullies, and naturally 
 made up my mind to go through them. This 
 was done. Several of the young heroes then 
 turned round and threatened to give us a hiding. 
 As it turned out, instead of receiving hidings we 
 gave some ourselves, and there were soon several 
 black eyes and bruised faces at the south side of 
 Hungerford Bridge. Before long a policeman 
 appeared on the scene, and one of the injured 
 innocents at once proposed to give us in charge 
 for assault. Several others were ready to follow 
 suit, and with so many witnesses arrayed against 
 us, the prospect was distinctly ominous, especially 
 as we had not a scratch and several of our 
 aggressors were knocked about. Besides, we had 
 to outward appearance first commenced undeni- 
 able hostilities by breaking through their line. 
 Under the circumstances we compromised, 
 and agreed to pay 50 to one of our opponents 
 who had come very badly out of the fray. In 
 
60 MEMOIRS Off SIR CLAUDS DE CEESP1GNY 
 
 an age of chantage, this is the only instance I 
 can recollect of having yielded to a risky, and 
 as a rule an ineffectual, method of extricating 
 oneself from an awkward dilemma. 
 
 On another occasion I was invited to square 
 matters by " a trifle down," under very differ- 
 ent circumstances. This was also in London, 
 but at a much later date. It arose from an 
 altercation with a hansom cab driver, who was 
 incensed at my only paying him sixpence over 
 his fare. He got off his box, and followed me 
 into a confectioner's shop in Victoria Street. He 
 would not accept, so he said, a farthing under 
 two shillings, and in order to enforce his claim 
 laid his hand upon my coat collar. I warned 
 him once and w r arned him twice, that this would 
 lead to complications, but being a big blustering 
 bully, he persisted, and seemed ready to shake 
 the extra sixpence out of me. I then freed 
 myself, and my patience being quite exhausted, 
 returned the assault with interest. He did not 
 fall down, but spun half round. I failed to resist 
 the temptation after this to thrust him out of the 
 shop by means of my foot with just the amount 
 of necessary force for such an operation. A con- 
 stable appeared on the scene, and next day cabby 
 and I met at the Westminster Police Court. It 
 
AN INDIGNANT CABBY 61 
 
 had occurred to me directly after the fracas in 
 the confectioner's, that if I gave my full name 
 the man might bring up relays of witnesses with 
 the idea of getting a handsome sum of money 
 out of me ; so I refrained from doing so. The 
 prosecutor, with a black eye, saw me waiting 
 outside the court, and offered to drop his case 
 against me if I would pay for the damage I 
 had done. " No," said I, "it is too late for 
 that. If you had made that proposal yesterday 
 I might have listened to it. Now we'll see it 
 out." The man upon appearing before the 
 magistrate proceeded to give a nicely prepared 
 version of the affair. I had offered him a 
 shilling, he had declined, and upon his dis- 
 mounting I had offered him one-and-six with 
 one hand and knocked him down with the other, 
 all this taking place outside the confectioner's. 
 Then I was called upon to give my version. 
 I related the affair as it had occurred inside 
 the shop. " You said it took place outside ? " 
 remarked the magistrate to the plaintiff. " Oh 
 yes," admitted he, " I forgot ; it was inside." 
 " The case is dismissed," said Mr. D'Eyncourt 
 curtly, which was blow number three for cabby. 
 
 This incident reminds me of an escapade 
 which happened in what may be called my 
 
62 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 salad days about which I have been writ- 
 ing assuming that I ever really had any. 
 Supping, or rather preparing to sup, one night 
 at a West End restaurant with a friend, there 
 was set down before me a lobster in almost a 
 state of putrefaction. The waiter after serving 
 up this horrible dish whisked out of the room. 
 I went down and remonstrated with him. He 
 deemed my manner, I suppose, very threatening, 
 and accordingly dashed a pepper-pot which he 
 held in his hand full at me ; the top came off, 
 and the contents covered my clothes, fortunately 
 not getting into my eyes. I proceeded to chas- 
 tise him, and had to answer next day to a 
 charge of assault at Marlborough Street Police 
 Station before, so far as I recollect, Mr. Knox. 
 I had no witness on my behalf, as my friend 
 had not actually seen the affair take place, 
 and it seemed likely that I should get the 
 worst of the case. But the careful suppression 
 on the part of the waiter of the facts about 
 the pepper-pot, which came out when my friend 
 was sworn and referred to my condition after 
 the affair, was noted by the watchful magistrate. 
 He reminded the prosecutor that he had not 
 mentioned this incident, which put a different 
 aspect on affairs, and in the end I had to 
 
THE WAITER AND HIS PEPPER-POT 63 
 
 submit to a small fine. For long afterwards 
 friends were fond of exclaiming when they met 
 me what a strong smell of pepper was about ! 
 
 That lobster cost me rather over five pounds 
 in all. The affair reminds me of a bill I saw 
 with my own eyes at the Black Swan, York. 
 It was made out to the late Lord Glasgow, a 
 notoriously short-tempered man. The items of 
 the bill were : Chop a shilling, champagne ten 
 shillings, and for breaking waiter's arm five 
 pounds. There is a much better-known story 
 of Lord Glasgow and a ticket clerk at a 
 railway station. 1 His lordship needed change, 
 so handed a ten-pound note to the clerk, 
 who told him that he must endorse it. He 
 therefore wrote "Glasgow" on the back, which 
 made the clerk say " I want your name and not 
 where you are going to, silly mon /" The last 
 two words were scarcely out of the clerk's 
 mouth, before the irate peer had dashed his fist 
 through the booking-office window, accompany- 
 ing the blow with some forcible epithet. 
 
 Writing of Lord Glasgow reminds me of a 
 nice ruse which was once resorted to in order 
 to prevent his exercising the right to blackball 
 
 1 A small station in Northumberland. A brother-in-law 
 of mine was present and told me of it a few days after. B. 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 a candidate for membership at his club. The 
 
 late Lord X being, like Glasgow, rather a 
 
 peppery fellow, was not very acceptable amongst 
 a certain circle of racing folk. His name was 
 down for the Jockey Club, where two blackballs 
 were sufficient to pill a candidate. Now it was 
 well known amongst his Lordship's friends who 
 were trying to secure his election that two 
 members General Peel and Lord Glasgow 
 had resolved to blackball him. Accordingly they 
 had to devise a scheme to get these two out 
 of the way. On the day of election both 
 General Peel and Lord Glasgow were suddenly 
 summoned away one of them, I fancy, so far as 
 Newmarket on urgent business. The trick was 
 done by two bogus telegrams and was completely 
 successful. There was no opposition to Lord 
 X , and he was elected. 
 
 Probably the Prince of Wales is to this day 
 utterly unconscious that he was within an ace 
 of being killed, when, about the time of which I 
 am writing, he came on board the Sultan to 
 lunch, and to see afterwards the working of 
 a new gun. With one or two other people I 
 was standing by, a spectator of the incident. 
 The Prince had been watching the working of 
 the gun, and just as he turned round to ask some 
 
PRINCE OF WALES' NARROW ESCAPE 65 
 
 question of Captain Vansittart concerning the cost 
 of each discharge, the windlass took charge, and 
 the handle flying round with frightful velocity 
 only just missed his Royal Highness's head. If 
 he had been a foot nearer it is not conceivable 
 that he could have escaped. He must have 
 been killed on the spot. 
 
 This took place in Portland Harbour. There 
 was a very nasty sea on at the time ; but it 
 did not deter the Prince from going the round 
 of several other vessels lying near by. He was 
 anxious not to hurt the feelings of the other 
 officers, and so put himself to this considerable 
 discomfort. Verily the lines of royalty are not 
 always laid in pleasant places. 
 
 I recollect meeting Lord Charles Beresford on 
 this occasion on board the Sultan. When he 
 saw me he cried out, what was I doing there ? 
 He thought I had left the Navy for good. I told 
 him I had joined the Sultan in the capacity 
 of Chaplain and Naval Instructor. " Good Lord," 
 exclaimed Charley, who is always ready with a 
 reply, " why didn't you join as Ship's Cook ? 
 You'd at any rate have got more to eat that 
 way." 
 
 Charley Beresford, though full of good nature, 
 is bad to rub up the wrong way. Once he was 
 
iiG MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDB DE 
 
 driving a drag with several ladies in it home 
 from some races I forget where. Two or three 
 offensive fellows in a dog-cart shot peas at the 
 ladies. Charley bided his time. Presently it 
 came. He managed very skilfully to lock the 
 wheel of his coach in that of the dog-cart. Then, 
 sublimely regardless of remonstrances, he bore 
 doggedly to the right till the dog-cart was 
 precipitated with its occupants into a deep 
 ditch. Charley drove on as though nothing 
 had happened. 
 
 Beresford and myself, I may explain, had 
 been fellow naval cadets a good few years 
 before this incident. We were on the training 
 ship Britannia together in the beginning of 
 the Sixties. I cannot say that in those 
 days our now perhaps foremost and certainly 
 most widely popular sailor gave any clear 
 indications of the greatness which he was to 
 attain to by and by. But I do recollect that 
 he was then, as always, a spirited and plucky 
 fellow. Like Marcus, and myself too, I rather 
 fancy he has been in well, in two or three 
 " mills" since those days! 
 
 I had not intended to give any account of 
 sailoring days, as at that period I can hardly 
 be said to have commenced my sporting career ; 
 
SAILO&ING DAYS 67 
 
 but there are a few incidents in connection with 
 those times which may not be without interest 
 to the rising generation of sailors. My first ship 
 was the now obsolete W armor. I went on 
 board her in 1862, when she made her first 
 trip across the Bay of Biscay, and it is worthy 
 of mention that she was the first ironclad that 
 ever went to sea. Cochrane was the captain 
 of the ship, and Try on, whose tragic but splendid 
 end on the Victoria must long remain fresh 
 in the public memory, the Commander. Even 
 at that early period in his career Tryon was 
 thought very highly of, and marked out for 
 certain and speedy promotion. 
 
 From the Warrior I was presently transferred 
 to the Edgar, a two-decker, carrying the flag 
 of Admiral Sir S. C. Dacres. We hung a while 
 about the West Indies, then on to Halifax, j 
 avoiding Bermuda as we had yellow fever on^ 
 board. 
 
 . Whilst cruising about the North American j 
 station, our head-quarters being Halifax, we ^ 
 saw a little, and heard more, of blockaders and 
 blockade runners. There were some smart 
 devices practised on more than one occasion 
 by the runners in order to get their cargoes in. 
 One of the cleverest tricks I can recollect took 
 
68 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 place at Charlestown Harbour. A little runner 
 wanted to unload the cargo, composed of 
 quinine, etc., she had on board. To do this 
 she would have to pass a line of watchful 
 blockaders, an apparently impossible task. One 
 of the blockaders on her starboard bow, sus- 
 pecting mischief, showed a red light, and the 
 runner at once popped a shot into the same. 
 At the same time the blockader on her port 
 bow showed a blue light. She treated that 
 in the same style, and then steamed between 
 the two blockaders, leaving them firing at one 
 another. 
 
 At another time a runner was desperately 
 anxious to pass a blockader at, I think, Saint 
 Thomas's. Now the blockader was not able to 
 tackle the runner in the harbour, as it was 
 under British protection ; but directly the runner 
 moved the blockader would of course pursue, 
 and presently attack her. The captain of the 
 runner being in these difficult straits, asked the 
 captain of one of our ships what he had better 
 do to evade the blockader. The advice was to 
 burn some damp hay which was on board the 
 runner, and so pretend to be getting up steam 
 for a start. This was done, and the blockader 
 promptly began to burn coah Presently her 
 
WAR BETWEEN NORTH AND SOUTH 69 
 
 supplies ran short, and she had to send a boat 
 ashore to get some more. Instantly the runner 
 departed on her way, rejoicing at this com- 
 pletely successful ruse. The blockader gave 
 chase, but had to stop steaming before she was 
 hull down. 
 
 The Northerners were very eager to receive 
 efficient seamen gunners, and not a little diffi- 
 culty was experienced in keeping our men from 
 deserting, as the pay and bonus offered were 
 most tempting. A good many men did succeed 
 in getting away and joining the American naval 
 force. 
 
 I allowed my men occasionally to go ashore, 
 on the understanding that they would not over- 
 stay the short time allowed them, and would 
 refrain from taking a glass too much. Once 
 one of them came back obviously the worse for 
 drink. I pointed out that he would be the 
 means of getting me into trouble. The other 
 men were furious at his conduct, and asked to be 
 allowed to settle with him themselves. I never 
 inquired what course they took, but had a very 
 shrewd suspicion that he got something like four 
 dozen. 
 
 In the early Seventies Mrs. Frederick Thistle- 
 wayte was living in town, and often entertaining 
 
70 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 illustrious visitors. I recollect not a few in- 
 teresting conversations with prominent public 
 men at the dinner-table. Mrs. Thistlewayte 
 herself was a distinctly well-informed woman 
 and a clever hostess. Lord Shaftesbury used 
 often to visit her : no doubt she helped him 
 materially in his many philanthropic schemes. 
 A particularly fascinating woman too was Mrs. 
 Thistlewayte, as may be gathered from the follow- 
 ing perfectly true tale. Once Lord Shaftesbury 
 called when a particularly well-known states- 
 man was in the lady's drawing-room. She skil- 
 fully managed to bring this statesman to his 
 bended knees in an attitude of unspeakable 
 devotion at the very moment when the door was 
 opened and his lordship announced. A certain 
 photograph of Bismarck and a renowned singer 
 sent a scream of laughter through Europe, 
 though it was speedily explained away. But 
 conceive the sensation which this extraordinary 
 incident would have caused had Lord Shaftes- 
 bury babbled ! He kept his lips closed, how- 
 ever, nor, to do her justice, did Mrs. Thistle- 
 wayte proclaim her triumph from the house- 
 tops. It will scarcely be denied that this tale 
 may be fairly included in a book of sporting 
 reminiscences, 
 
PRACTICAL JOKES 71 
 
 We were not above practical jokes in those 
 days, and in the" sturm und drang of youth. 
 The very friend who was so useful in my pepper- 
 pot case strove to play me off at Evans's one 
 night very neatly. A nice joke was to put 
 the yolk of an egg in a friend's hat. I managed 
 
 to get one in W 's hat all right at Evans's 
 
 on this occasion, but he appears to have seen 
 what was up and to have transferred it to mine. 
 It was a gay party, and between us we made 
 so much noise that old Paddy Green sent the 
 chucker-out to quiet us. This fellow came at 
 me ; I clapped my opera hat over his eyes, 
 and to our delight the yolk trickled down his 
 face. Finding that we were showing fight 
 Paddy came up with plenty of " soft sawder," 
 addressing us as " Dear Boys," and the affair 
 passed off amicably. 
 
 But for a baulked practical joke, commend me 
 to one which was to have been played by three 
 officers in the 4th Hussars, amongst whom was 
 
 my friend Wilson T . The trio conceived 
 
 the brilliant idea of posting down to the west 
 of England, and visiting the house of a certain 
 gentleman well disguised as bum-bailiffs. Their 
 scheme need not have miscarried had it not been 
 disclosed to a fourth party, who wired down, tg 
 
72 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 the intended victim warning him that three 
 notorious London cracksmen were shortly going 
 to visit his house. The police were put on their 
 guard, and directly the conspirators appeared 
 they were "run in," despite all remonstrances 
 and show of indignation. In durance vile too 
 were they kept for several hours, until they were 
 able to prove themselves three cavalry officers. 
 
 The useful art of self-defence is one in which 
 I tried to instruct myself early in life. Even 
 the most peaceably inclined people admit that it 
 is often a really desirable one ; and especially is 
 this the case at times in the rough-and-tumble 
 of the racecourse. Every man ought to have 
 some idea of how to defend himself with his bare 
 fists, and above all of how to defend ladies who 
 may be in his company, and for whose safety he 
 is therefore responsible. 
 
 Unfortunately I was too young at the time to 
 see the Sayers and Heenan fight, though I had a 
 good description of it from a friend, who was 
 only eleven years old at the time, but was lucky 
 enough to be present. With an enterprise 
 beyond his years he managed to smuggle 
 himself into the vehicle in which his father 
 drove from Aldershot to see the great fight, and, 
 arrived at the scene of action, a kind word from 
 
SAYERS AND BEEN AN 73 
 
 a gentleman who admired his spirit got him in. 
 The Savers and Heenan fight, so far as I know, 
 is the only record of a man fighting with a 
 broken arm. It can certainly be done with a 
 broken finger. When I was cramming at 
 Lendy's, I had a fight lasting for an hour and 
 a half with a waterman. My second was 
 General then Captain Sir Owen Lanyon, who 
 was at that time cramming for the Staff College. 
 After ten minutes or thereabouts my finger got 
 broken, and for an hour and twenty minutes I 
 had to fight on with this disablement. Odds of 
 three and four to one on me were being offered 
 when the police stopped the fight. A pro- 
 fessional prize-fighter said to me afterwards, 
 " When your finger was broken you ought to 
 have hit him with the wrist end of the flat of 
 your hand." 
 
 At the time of this fight I was in. my teens. 
 I am not conscious of having been the aggressor 
 in many of the encounters in which it has been 
 my lot to be a principal since then, though 
 frequently enough the first actual blow has come 
 from me ; but there is certainly no denying the 
 fact that I have been in the wars a great number 
 of times since that bout at Sunbury. In a 
 number of instances hostilities have been 
 
74 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 initiated by a heartily-expressed desire and 
 intention on the part of various persons who 
 have fancied themselves as fighters to give me 
 a sound hiding ; and people who talk in this 
 vein are often the easiest to subdue, as they are 
 inclined as a rule to quite over- rate their own 
 powers and under-rate their adversaries'. 
 
 One of the soundest thrashings I ever recollect, 
 administered by ordinarily a non-fighting man, 
 was on Oare Hill, the scene in past years of a 
 review of the troops. The pugilists were a 
 
 burly tramp and St. M , a fellow Green 
 
 Jacket of mine who now sports the Strawberry 
 Leaves. The tramp was leathering his wife, and 
 my friend bade him desist. Whereupon the 
 
 man turned upon the intruder. St. M , who 
 
 was a man of great stature and strength, pro- 
 ceeded to administer the wife-beater a tre- 
 mendous thrashing. 
 
 St. M - was perhaps one of the biggest 
 men in the Service in those days, and he had 
 several tall brothers. 1 It used to be a common 
 joke in the regiment to say " Here come 
 thirty-one feet of St. M ." I suppose the 
 strongest man in the army in recent times, 
 
 1 St. M was over six feet high. None of his brothers 
 were ; they were all light meji, not over 5 ft. 10 in, B f 
 
FEATS OF STRENGTH 75 
 
 not even excluding two or three gigantic 
 troopers who engaged in Homeric hand-to-hand 
 conflicts at Balaclava and Inkerman, was the 
 present Lord Methuen's father. At one time 
 he could, it used to be said, hold out Sir 
 Watkin Wynne, himself a heavy man, at arm's 
 length like a dumb-bell. Lord Methuen, how- 
 ever, seems to have tried this feat once too 
 often. On a certain occasion he attempted to 
 repeat it in barracks, and as a result the seats 
 of three pairs of overalls went ! The peer had 
 no doubt forgotten that he was getting an older 
 man, and Sir Watkin Wynne a heavier one. 
 
 Talking of this wonderful feat reminds me 
 that I was one of the first, if not the first, 
 Englishman to foretell Sandow's certain triumph 
 over all other strong men, including Sampson, 
 who was performing in England at the time, 
 and had no serious rival. Sandow was per- 
 forming when I first saw him at the Jardin 
 Publique in Venice, and I at once declared that 
 he must turn out really " the strongest man in 
 the world." I take this opportunity of saying 
 that all his public feats are unquestionably quite 
 genuine, despite the doubt that is occasionally 
 thrown on some of the more extraordinary 
 weight-lifting performances. I have been on 
 
76 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 the stage and in his private room to feel his 
 muscles, thews, and sinews, and this ought to 
 be enough to satisfy the most incredulous that 
 his feats are one and all honestly performed. 
 
 I was married in the autumn of 1872, and 
 for a season or two my wife and I lived in the 
 west of Ireland. On the Shannon there was 
 some capital punt shooting. Wild fowl were 
 numerous, and the shooting was particularly 
 good, chiefly because there were only a very 
 few guns at work. Since then I believe sport 
 has much deteriorated, owing to the great 
 increase in the number of sportsmen who repair 
 thither every season. Though I have done a 
 great deal of ordinary English covert shooting 
 in my time, I have always preferred the mixed 
 and rougher kind of sport one gets in wilder 
 districts. The shooting in Ireland at this period 
 was good all round, and I enjoyed some 
 particularly good woodcock shooting at Lord 
 Inchecjuin's fine place, Dromoland in County 
 Clare. What the bags averaged I am scarcely 
 prepared to say, not having made any notes 
 about them at the time, but I don't think Bagot 
 and myself did better in the course of a 
 season's shooting in the Mediterranean, to which 
 reference will be made later, 
 
SPORT IN IRELAND 77 
 
 In the winter of 1873-4, from our house in 
 the wilds of Clare, we did a certain amount of 
 fox-hunting. When the fox took to the hills 
 one had often to get off one's horse and lead 
 it, or hunt on foot a form of sport which little 
 recommends itself to heavy weights. On one 
 occasion when out with Reeves' hounds, I per- 
 formed what the field was pleased to regard as a 
 sensational exploit. In order to save the life of 
 a deer, which was close upon its death struggle, 
 I had to gallop across a narrow arched brick 
 footway over a stream which separated us from 
 the hounds. Nobody else could have followed, 
 even had they meditated doing so, as my horse 
 distributed the loose bricks right and left, and 
 practically demolished a good portion of the 
 footway. I was just in time to save the deer. 
 The scene of the incident was close to New- 
 market-on-Fergus. 
 
 A feat in horsemanship such as this usually 
 implies quite as much intelligence and skill in 
 the animal as in the rider. It is extraordinary 
 indeed what cleverness a good horse whose blood 
 is up will display when he is called upon to 
 make an awkward jump. Out one day with 
 the East Essex, I rode my chestnut mare 
 Cartridge- rather a famous animal in the 
 
78 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY ' 
 
 county at a stile on the other side of which 
 was a narrow footbridge across the lock at 
 Springfield. She took it without hesitation. 
 There was a second stile a few yards on at 
 the other end of the bridge ; two short strides 
 brought her to this, and over she went like 
 a bird. No one else except my son tried to 
 follow me, and his pony refused. It was 
 certainly an awkward thing getting over these 
 two stiles on either side of the narrow lock 
 footbridge. Most of us ride for a fall now and 
 then. What on earth is the use of going out 
 hunting if one is going to ride only at obstacles 
 which one is certain to surmount ? Better to 
 jog along the high road, or better still walk. 
 The most tremendous leap I ever knew a 
 
 I horse take was out with the Cheshire hounds at 
 I 
 
 Marbury in 1870. A fine mare I was riding 
 i cleared a five-foot fence with a bound that 
 ! covered over thirty-one feet. We measured it 
 directly afterwards, and it was stated at the 
 time to be the second best jump in point of 
 length on record, the best being thirty-three 
 feet. This latter jump, however, which was 
 performed by Chandler at Warwick, is open to 
 much doubt. After the horse had made it, his 
 rider had to finish the race, weigh in, and dress 
 
REMARKABLE JUMPS 79 
 
 before taking any measurements. Meanwhile 
 several spectators on horseback had ridden over 
 the course. It is worthy of remark, that the 
 best long jumps of horses are little better 
 than those of men. Mr. Fry, the Oxford long 
 jumper, would be a good match against some 
 fair equine performers in the hunting field and 
 racecourse. There is this difference of course 
 that a horse usually takes off from comparatively 
 rough ground, and moreover can clear height 
 and length in the same jump. Good jumps 
 are often achieved by horses over hurdles. 
 Harold, for instance, schooling over low hurdles 
 the other day at Epsom, cleared twenty-seven 
 feet. Clean jumps of twenty -four and twenty- 
 five feet are frequent. 
 
 In the summer of 1876 I was again in 
 Ireland, this time bent on soldiering as well 
 as sport. I joined the Limerick Artillery 
 Militia for its annual training, and managed 
 whilst engaged in this occupation to be con- 
 cerned in several aquatic adventures. On one 
 occasion when my battery was practising at 
 flags erected on floating wooden frames beyond 
 Tarbet Lighthouse I paddled out in my canoe 
 to secure a trophy in one of the flags which 
 had been hit. When I arrived, however, at 
 
80 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 the target I found that I could not get near 
 enough to grasp the flag, the sea being far 
 too rough. After several fruitless attempts I 
 got out of my canoe, and swam up to the buoy. 
 I then got the flag, but, turning towards the 
 shore, found that the canoe had drifted away, 
 and was quite out of reach. It looked as though 
 I must abandon the flag, and get back to shore 
 a beaten man. But being in good swimming 
 form at the time I resolved to try and swim 
 in, holding the flag and knife in my teeth. 
 
 Eventually, after a hard struggle with the 
 waves, I reached my canoe and got in again. 
 Those on shore saw the empty canoe, and feared 
 some disaster. So alarmed was Colonel Vereker 
 that he started at a run down a steep incline in 
 order to get a boat and a rescue party. He 
 was a corpulent man, and having once started 
 at this rate was quite unable to pull himself 
 up, and ended at a tearing pace, which sent 
 the whole company into explosions of laughter. 
 Some averred that he was only stopped from 
 going clean into the water through a collision 
 with the lighthouse. 
 
 On Nov. 15, 1876, in accordance with the 
 instructions of the Duke of Cambridge, the 
 bronze medal of the Royal Humane Society 
 
PRESENTATION OF A MEDAL 81 
 
 was presented to me at a full-dress parade of 
 troops at Winchester. I cannot deny that the 
 occasion was a proud and happy one to me, 
 though of course I was well aware that I 
 did nothing more than any man worthy the 
 name would do when I went into the sea at 
 Limerick after a drowning man. These things, 
 in a slang phrase, are " all in the day's work : " 
 only heartily I wish I had had more oppor- 
 tunities of the kind, as my West Indian ex- 
 periences have given me great confidence in the 
 water. 
 
 The facts in connection with this presentation 
 were as follows: On July 17, 1876, I was in 
 charge of the regimental bathing parade at 
 Tarbet, where I was stationed with the Artillery 
 Militia. Information was brought to me that 
 a man was drowning, having been caught in 
 an overmastering current by the lighthouse 
 known by the name of Tarbet Kace. I repaired 
 to the spot, and found that the man was the 
 best part of a quarter of a mile from the shore 
 and very much exhausted. My brother was 
 making preparations to go to his rescue, but 
 my position being more advantageous I was 
 able to reach the poor chap first. He was 
 then, though a fair swimmer, fairly beat. I 
 
82 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 got him by the left upper arm, and sustained 
 him till the lifeboat from the Coast-guard 
 station came at last to the rescue. They had 
 launched her so hurriedly that she got stove 
 in, and when she reached us was full of water. 
 The man behaved very well in the water, and 
 obeyed my directions, which greatly facilitated 
 the task of holding him up till the boat came. 
 Thus the force of discipline evidenced itself in a 
 very serviceable manner. 
 
 At the Winchester presentation Colonel New- 
 degate said some uncommonly pleasant things 
 about personal bravery, and so forth, and there 
 was a good deal of cheering. This was the 
 more gratifying to me, in that it came from 
 my old regiment the Kifles. 
 
 The last opportunity I had of putting my 
 swimming powers to practical service in saving 
 life or in this case unfortunately in endeavour- 
 ing to save it was when bathing near Maldon 
 in the Blackwater. My attention Avas drawn 
 to some cries for help on the south side of the 
 river, and being in mid-stream I rowed across 
 and dived in as near as I could ascertain to the 
 spot where a boy had disappeared a few minutes 
 before. The water was very thick and I could 
 see nothing, so came up for breath, and then 
 
ATTEMPTED RESCUE 83 
 
 went under again. I repeated the operation 
 several times, but in vain, and eventually left, 
 feeling assured that life must be extinct. The 
 body was recovered some little time after at 
 low tide. At the inquest I felt it only right 
 to talk very straight about the conduct of one 
 or two people who were on the spot as the lad 
 disappeared, and made no attempt to save him. 
 The jury in returning a verdict of accidental 
 death by drowning were good enough to declare 
 formally that "credit was due to Sir Claude 
 de Crespigny for his unflagging energy and 
 promptitude in attempting to rescue the lad." 
 When a lad of fifteen I had the good fortune 
 to save a man's life at "The Hard" in 
 Alresford parish. We had been sailing in 
 the Colne, when I jumped overboard for the 
 purpose of swimming ashore. My companion 
 could not swim a stroke, but he followed me 
 promptly, apparently quite unaware that he 
 would find himself out of his depth. It was 
 rather a difficult business to lug him ashore, 
 but I eventually succeeded in doing so. A 
 fisherman saw our critical position and tried 
 to come to the rescue, but we were safe before 
 he arrived. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A MEDLEY OF SPORT 
 
 Fox-hunting with many packs Jack Fricker and George 
 Carter Sporting parsons Fox-hunting incidents A 
 dogged old customer " The Mate " He plays a little 
 joke on me Whyte Melville A weird struggle 
 Diana and the Cockney sportsmen Steeplechasing 
 at Dawnsey Rough company at Stockbridge The 
 Bibury Club The late Lord Portsmouth Sandown 
 Park, and how started. 
 
 WHEN not in Ireland with the Limerick 
 Artillery Militia in 1876, I was for the most 
 part hunting in the South of England. During 
 this and the next few years I put in an 
 enormous lot of riding to hounds. I hunted 
 in 1876, 77, '78 and '79 with the following 
 packs : Tedworth, Luttrell, South and West 
 Wilts, Essex, Chiddingfold, Lord Leaconfield's, 
 Lord Radnor's, New Forest, Lord Portman's, 
 Vine, H. H. and Hursley, and also with two 
 packs of stag-hounds, namely, the Devon and 
 Somerset, and the New Forest. In addition I 
 
 84 
 
FOX-HVNTING 85 
 
 was sometimes out with beagles and with Lord 
 Pembroke's and Mr. Raikes's harriers. That 
 keen sportsman, the Reverend W. Awdry of 
 Ludgershall, kept a small pack of beagles during 
 these years. I used to go out with them, and 
 occasionally too with the Hawking Club at 
 Everleigh. This meant hunting at times four, 
 five, and even six days a week, and it entailed 
 some very long rides to meets. There was a 
 tradition popular amongst my friends that I 
 once rode sixty-six miles to a meet. As a matter 
 of fact, I rode down to the New Forest from my 
 place in Wiltshire with the object of exercising 
 my right of voting in the Verderers election, and 
 by way of killing two birds at one throw put 
 in a day's hunting. This, however, was quite 
 eclipsed by a performance of Lord Queensberry's. 
 After hunting all day with Lord Wemys's 
 hounds he started off across the Cheviots for 
 Kinmount on the Solway, a distance of one 
 hundred and two miles, riding most of the way 
 on the sorriest of posters, and finally, having 
 arrived home at 2 a.m., hunted his hounds the 
 same day. 
 
 Head-quarters during the fox-hunting period 
 were at Durrington in Wiltshire, and the Ted- 
 worth was the pack most easily reached from 
 
86 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 that point. The praises of this famous pack, 
 hunted of old by the immortal sportsman 
 Assheton Smith, have been sounded so often 
 that they need scarcely be repeated here. It 
 is impossible, however, to revert to those 
 Durrington days without saying something of a 
 few of the men who then formed the Ted worth 
 Hunt. First and foremost to the mind of every 
 one who regularly rode with the Tedworth in 
 those times comes Jack Flicker. Old Jack was 
 quite an ideal huntsman. I take it there was 
 no man in England of that day who more 
 thoroughly understood foxhounds than he. He 
 could distinguish by tongue most of the hounds 
 in the pack. Certainly he knew the tongue of 
 any hound likely to be in the van. Jack lived 
 and almost died in his breeches. He was very 
 uncomfortable in any other attire, and equally 
 out of his element on the very rare occasions 
 when he was compelled to drive instead of ride. 
 It is said, however, that he was surpassed in 
 knowledge of hound life by his predecessor Carter, 
 of whom Parson Gale gave one or two remark- 
 able reminiscences in a little book he published 
 some years since. " Sir Claude de Crespigny," 
 he wrote, " had resided at Durrington Manor 
 House for some few seasons, and whilst there 
 
AN IDEAL HUNTSMAN 87 
 
 had hunted regularly with the Tedworth hounds. 
 Some time after he had left I received a letter 
 from him, asking me if I could find out from old 
 George Carter anything respecting a certain 
 hound which was in the Duke of Grafton's pack 
 at the time he was acting as his huntsman, and 
 might possibly have come with him to Tedworth. 
 Sir Claude was, I believe, tracing out some 
 pedigrees ; at all events he wanted to know how 
 the hound in question was bred. I took an 
 early opportunity of mentioning this to my old 
 friend, and he said at once 
 
 " ' Eemember him ? of course I do. He 
 were a very good hound, and came with me 
 from the Duke of Grafton's to Mr. Smith's.' 
 
 " ' Can you tell me, old friend,' I continued, 
 ' how he was bred ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes,' replied the huntsman, * he was by 
 
 out of ' (I cannot myself remember 
 
 the names of his father and mother) ; and calling 
 to his daughter, he told her to look into his 
 bureau where he kept his old papers, etc., and 
 see if she could find the hound list of the 
 Grafton of such and such a year. The girl 
 looked for the list and found it, and sure 
 enough the pedigree old Carter had given was 
 perfectly accurate." 
 
88 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 But an even more remarkable instance of 
 Carter's knowledge of hound life is supplied by 
 the following. Parson Gale was looking after 
 a hound named Matchless which very often 
 would run down to the old huntsman's cottage. 
 On one occasion a hound came into the garden 
 and commenced baying under the window of the 
 bedroom in which Carter was lying shortly 
 before his death. He bade his daughter herself 
 " a rare good girl for a hound "- to go see what 
 hound it was baying. She looked out of the 
 window, and then said, " Oh, 'tis Matchless, 
 father, Mr. Gale's puppy." " I tell you 'tis a 
 dog hound," rejoined the old fellow, "for I know 
 the note." He was as usual in such matters 
 correct. It was a brother of Matchless, called 
 Monitor, the two being so exactly alike that 
 the girl had mistaken one for the other. 
 
 Several other tales about this huntsman 
 have been told often enough in the hunting 
 field, originating without doubt from Parson 
 Gale, who was quite the Boswell of Carter. On 
 one occasion a young fellow, very anxious to 
 show his prowess, came cantering up to Carter, 
 taking one or two fences on his way with great 
 nonchalance, his mount being a very good one. 
 " Nice fencer, isn't he?" said Poppinjay to 
 
FOX-HUNTING INCIDENTS 89 
 
 Carter. " Ahem, hope you won't want it by and 
 by, sir," was the stern reply. But the best tale 
 of all is told by Parson Gale, who accidentally 
 heard Carter remark in an undertone concerning 
 one of Mrs. Gale's little girls, whom the loving 
 mother had been introducing to him, " Nice 
 pup : pity she weren't born a hound." He was 
 horrified when he discovered that he had been 
 overheard, and proceeded to offer many sincere 
 apologies. 
 
 It was always Assheton Smith's ambition to 
 hunt in his eightieth year. Carter, though 
 he resigned the office of huntsman to the 
 Tedworth at the age of seventy- three not 
 without a kind of protest did actually hunt 
 after he had turned eighty, so that he beat his 
 master in this respect. Carter's admiration for 
 Assheton Smith does not appear to have been 
 absolutely unqualified. On several occasions he 
 found himself unable to approve of the master's 
 active and peremptory orders, and after his death 
 thought the Tedworth would still survive and 
 greatly flourish, which it certainly did. Carter 
 was an abstemious man, and a God-fearing one 
 too, we have been told. There resided at one 
 time in the Tedworth country a man who was 
 well endowed with this world's goods, and had 
 
90 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 great advantages in the matter of position and 
 family connections. But he was avoided by the 
 county people, and had few friends. Once he 
 tried to find a companion in Carter, who felt 
 compelled to cut short his advances with these 
 words " I don't drink, I don't smoke, and I 
 don't tell lies. So I'm no use to you, 
 
 sir." 
 
 Two of the keenest fox-hunters I ever met 
 were clergymen, one this Parson Gale, and the 
 other the Rev. W. Awdry. Both hunted regu- 
 larly with the Tedworth, as did one or two other 
 gentlemen of the cloth. With Awdry, who was, 
 and is no doubt still, a good all-round sportsman, 
 always went Mrs. Awdry, herself far better versed 
 in fox-hunting than most men who ride to hounds. 
 Awdry could really distinguish by tongue the 
 leading hounds of the Tedworth almost as well 
 as Jack Fricker or even Carter. "How we all 
 used to love hunting," he wrote the other day in 
 recalling those Tedworth times, " when we knew 
 the names, breeding, and principal peculiarities 
 of every hound in the pack." 
 
 Parson Gale could of course well recollect 
 Assheton Smith. Hard by Fosbury, in the 
 Tedworth country, there is a very steep and 
 sudden descent into farmland. The parson once 
 
SPORTING PARSONS 91 
 
 seeing me ride rather furiously, as it appeared to 
 him, down this place, complimented me upon 
 the achievement. He declared that in all his 
 days he had only seen one man do it, and do it 
 with a loose rein, and that was Assheton Smith. 
 As a matter of fact I could not claim to have 
 emulated or rivalled Assheton Smith in this 
 matter, because my horse took me down before 
 I had time to realize the position ; once started 
 it was in any case impossible to draw up till the 
 bottom of the hill was reached. I am told, by 
 the way, that a Welsh pony belonging to Mr. 
 A. W. Dewar the owner of Doles Wood- 
 would alone amongst the Ted worth Hunt take 
 this and other neighbouring hills without the 
 slightest hesitation, and at the steepest point. 
 The question of whether or no a clergyman 
 ought to hunt has long been hotly disputed. 
 For my part I should be content, if amongst my 
 various vocations I had ever donned the cloth, 
 to abide by the view of a parson who does not 
 hunt himself, but is none the less perfectly 
 tolerant of it in his brethren Mr. Baring Gould. 
 He writes concerning this matter, " Why not ? 
 Why should not the parson go with the hounds ? 
 A more fresh and invigorating pursuit is not to 
 be found, nor one in which he is brought more in 
 
92 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 contact with his fellow men. There was a breezy 
 goodness about many a hunting parson of old 
 times that was in itself a sermon, and was one on 
 the topic that healthy amusement and Christianity 
 go excellently well together." 
 
 Occasionally the hunting parson, it must be 
 admitted, is rather handicapped in the pursuit of 
 sport by the obligations of his profession. Two 
 instances of this occur to me relating to clergy- 
 men I have often hunted with. ' ' How's X 
 doing now ? " inquired a friend of a hunting 
 parson during a check. " Oh, well enough," 
 was the reply. ".On Monday, Wednesday and 
 Thursday we had capital sport. To-day too 
 he will be having good sport no doubt with 
 
 the C . Then as to to-morrow well, I 
 
 haven't heard what his arrangements are for that 
 day." " Oh," observed an attentive and rather 
 shocked listener, " but surely he will have his 
 duties to attend to to-morrow. He has a 
 burial." " Well," replied the parson, gallantly 
 sticking up for his brother clergyman, " he can 
 
 get a curate out of A to do that, you know, 
 
 easily enough for a sovereign or so." 
 
 On one occasion the hounds I was out with 
 had a clinking run hard by a churchyard where 
 a well-known sporting parson was conducting a 
 
THE TEDWOETH HUNT 93 
 
 burial service. Afterwards I tried to describe 
 the run to ray clerical friend, but cutting me 
 short he painted it himself in glowing colours. 
 He was ready with the name of every spinney we 
 touched, and could tell which was the leading 
 hound at every portion of the run. Whilst 
 performing his duties at the open grave he 
 had heard the hounds running, and knowing 
 every yard of the country was able to diagnose 
 the sport as the hounds ran in a semi-circle 
 at least as accurately as I who had been there 
 from start to finish. Imagine the restraint 
 which he must have exercised over himself whilst 
 reading the service ! the wonder was that he 
 didn't rush off after the hounds before his 
 duties were completed. 
 
 There was not much fencing with the Tedworth 
 out of the Pewsey Vale district, but we often 
 got grand runs ; whilst as for the hounds, they 
 were in the time of Jack Flicker's huntsmanship 
 probably as fine as any in the country. Often 
 enough in the case of a meet in an out-of-the- 
 way spot, the field was limited to about half- 
 a-dozen of us or even less in the afternoon. 
 The present Duke of Wellington was a well- 
 known figure of the Tedworth Hunt in those 
 good times, and only the other day his Grace 
 
94 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 was affectionately recalling to me the sport we 
 used to enjoy. Sir William Humphrey was 
 another familiar figure during these years, and 
 before she came by a very nasty accident Lady 
 Humphrey was known as one of the most 
 excellent horsewomen of the hunt. Penton 
 Lodge was Sir William's Hampshire residence. 
 It afterwards passed into the hands of a Mr. 
 Moon, who was a regular "Jubilee," getting 
 through his thousands in an incredibly short 
 space of time. 
 
 It is curious how entirely undeveloped is 
 the bump of locality in some people. Once 
 when out with the Ted worth we came upon 
 Penton Lodge, which everybody recognized save 
 the owner thereof. "Now that's a nice place, 
 and how well situated," said Sir William; "what's 
 the name of that place ? " He had evidently 
 never viewed Penton from that particular aspect 
 before. 
 
 I have already referred to a bad fall I had 
 out with the Tedworth through riding at a 
 gate which was more or less on the swing. I 
 was driven to it by the behaviour of my horse, 
 who had gone through instead of over a gate a 
 short while previously. My brother and I were 
 both riding greys, and I recollect being much 
 
A DOGGED OLD CUSTOMER 95 
 
 tickled when, after I was bandaged up, he told 
 me that in his agitation and hurry he had ridden 
 off on my horse to enlist the services of a 
 doctor, and had not noticed the mistake till he 
 had gone some distance. 
 
 A tremendous run we once had with the Ted- 
 worth from Sir John Astley's place at Everleigh 
 to Marlborough the fox was killed close to 
 the London road just outside the town may 
 still be fresh in the minds of some members 
 of the hunt. One gentleman had the use of 
 three horses, but was not in at the death. Sir 
 William Humphrey returned home before the 
 bitter or rather glorious end, so, intending to 
 do him a good turn, I wired to Penton Lodge, 
 " Killed our fox." Lady Humphrey opened this 
 telegram before Sir William had got home, and 
 directly she saw the first word in it rushed to 
 the conclusion that it must refer to her husband, 
 and sustained a severe shock. " Killed" is cer- 
 tainly an indiscreet word to begin a telegram with. 
 
 A remarkable character in the Tedworth 
 country, and a most dogged old customer, was 
 Caleb Simonds, the Savernake Forest keeper. 
 A fox went to earth during the cubbing season 
 in Savernake, and Simonds started to dig. But 
 the ground was very sandy, and at length Jack 
 
96 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 retired with his hounds. It was eight o'clock 
 
 in the morning when Simonds began to . 
 
 O O O 
 
 He declared he would not budge from that 
 earth until he had dislodged the fox. As good 
 as his word, he dug on till 10 o'clock at night, 
 when at length he came upon his quarry. 
 
 Simonds was as fearless as he was dogged. 
 Hearing shots fired near his cottage at Bed win 
 Brails on a winter's night he went out in shirt 
 and trousers with only a flail in his hand. Soon 
 he came across three armed poachers, and in- 
 formed them that they would have to come 
 along with him. At first they were inclined 
 to surrender, believing that the keeper who thus, 
 though unarmed, boldly accosted them had a 
 force behind him. But finding out that he 
 was alone one of them made a murderous assault 
 on him. Simonds with a blow of his flail 
 killed one of his assailants on the spot. The 
 other two then surrendered, and were marched 
 off by the old keeper. 
 
 One of the most awkward spots, by the way, 
 for hounds to get at I ever saw a fox resort 
 to in extremity was a culvert at Savernake. 
 The careful huntsman hesitated to let his 
 hounds go after the fox, lest they should be 
 unable to turn when fairly in this drain. 
 
A CURIOUS INCIDENT 97 
 
 Whilst we were waiting and wondering what 
 could be done, a sweep with his bundle of 
 implements came up. He asked whether it 
 was a fox we wanted to dislodge. " What else 
 do you think it could be ? " inquired Jack with 
 scorn. The sweep said he would have the fox 
 out, and fitted together his rods. He then 
 inserted them, with a dexterous twist caught 
 Keynard in the jacket, and dragged him out in 
 no time. That is probably the single instance 
 of a sweep's rods being used in fox-hunting. 
 
 A more unusual resort of a hunted fox, 
 however, was witnessed by those out with the 
 East Essex a few years ago. In front of me 
 I have a water-colour illustrating this incident 
 the end of an exciting run. The fox was 
 found in a covert north-west of my Essex 
 house, Champion Lodge, and running under our 
 window made for Goldhanger Creek on the Black- 
 water a real good point. There I espied him 
 crouching on a small salting two hundred and 
 fifty yards or thereabouts from the river wall. 
 Of course the hounds could neither view nor 
 wind him. I accordingly swam out to his coign 
 of vantage with the whole pack after me. 
 Finder, a big black and white stallion hound 
 I had from Jack Fricker, was first up, and 
 
98 MEMOIRS OF SIM CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 the two leading hounds drowned poor Charlie. 
 I at once proceeded to dive, and after some 
 rather exhausting struggles recovered his carcass, 
 which the hounds broke up on the salting. 
 
 Another incident with the East Essex pack 
 may perhaps be of some little interest to hunting 
 men. Once when the hounds were running 
 I deemed it well to follow for a while along 
 the line of the Great Eastern Kailway, being 
 afraid of losing them unless I took this course. 
 Before very long I saw a train coming, and 
 called out to an official who was near to open 
 the gate. He refused, as it was, he declared, 
 contrary to rules. There was no time to stop 
 and argue with the man, so I managed to coax 
 my horse over the signalling wires, and then 
 dashed him over some posts and rails alongside 
 the gate. Glancing round when these were suc- 
 cessfully negotiated, I saw that we had got over 
 not a moment too soon. It had been rather a 
 ticklish position, though I was speedily out 
 of it. 
 
 Everleigh was Sir John Astley's Wiltshire 
 seat, though in my time he never hunted with 
 the Tedworth. By the death of Sir John last 
 year, or to give him his far more familiar 
 name the /'Mate," I lost one of my oldest and 
 
'THE MATE 1 99 
 
 best friends. Very fond of his practical joke, 
 he once, at one of his " sing-song nights," 
 played rather a severe one on me. I got very 
 sleepy after the dinner, and the fumes of smoke 
 finally sent me off into a profound slumber. 
 The Mate could not resist the temptation of 
 painting me a moustache with a burnt cham- 
 pagne cork. My son and a friend who were 
 present permitted it with perhaps some mis- 
 givings. They would certainly have allowed 
 no other man but Sir John Astley to take the 
 liberty. Of course I was made to look distinctly 
 ridiculous, and to add to the absurdity some one 
 tried to wake me up, saying, "De Crespigny, 
 do you know you have a moustache now ? " I 
 only half woke up, and murmured, "Proper 
 thing too for a cavalry officer." Afterwards 
 I had to retire, and wash off the burnt cork 
 quite a long business. But it was impossible 
 to take umbrage at anything the old Mate 
 did in the way of a practical joke. He could 
 have played any number on me with impunity. 
 
 All the years I knew Sir John intimately, I 
 never, but once saw him "down on his luck." 
 That was at Stockbridge Kaces many years ago. 
 He was frightfully depressed for a day or so 
 on that occasion I knew not why but the 
 
100 MEMOIRS OF SIH CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 cloud soon passed completely by. The Mate 
 did undoubtedly bet at times in large sums 
 of money. Once I recollect having a modest 
 fiver with him at Stockbridge over some event 
 or other. I lost. Meeting him on the course 
 the next day I at once proposed to settle. Not 
 having the exact sum I asked for change. He 
 put his hand in his breast-coat pocket and 
 drew out an enormous packet of bank-notes 
 thousands of pounds worth, it struck me. 
 
 It was owing to Whyte Melville that I 
 changed the venue for a little while from 
 Hampshire and Wiltshire packs to the North 
 Devon and Somerset. I never saw so much of 
 that accomplished writer as I should have 
 wished, but what I did confirmed me in my 
 opinion, derived from his books, that he was a 
 perfect gentleman and a true sportsman. Many 
 people consider that his glowing panegyrics of 
 the sport to be obtained in hunting the wild 
 deer in Devon and Somerset were altogether 
 overdone. Certainly some of the runs described 
 in one or two of his works notably that run 
 in Katerfelto, when the stag was finally brought 
 to bay at Watersmeet seem incredible. The 
 opportunity occurring, I put the question to 
 Whyte Melville whether such runs actually 
 
A WEIHD 
 
 101 
 
 took place in the hunting of the red deer. 
 "Make no mistake," said he, "they sometimes 
 are undeniably good." So, soon after that I 
 set out on horseback to the West. 
 
 The Devon and Somerset yielded me fair but 
 not exceptional sport. One adventure not con- 
 nected with hunting, though resultant therefrom, 
 I have often thought over since ; it was of the 
 kind that are not easily forgotten. Leading 
 my mare home one evening into the town of 
 Dunster, my attention was attracted by a woman 
 who came rushing out of a house hard by, and 
 collided with me in her wild flight. A man 
 came across the road in pursuit, and struck the 
 fugitive with violence. I called upon him to 
 instantly desist, whereupon he turned upon me 
 with much savagery. I had scarcely let go my 
 mare, who, being fatigued, stood still, before he 
 assailed me. So sudden was the onslaught that 
 I did not think of dropping my hunting crop, 
 which I held in my right hand as I encountered 
 his blows. I was not conscious of being particu- 
 larly flustered, or of defending myself unskilfully, 
 but for all that I soon found that I was getting 
 all the worst of it. He seemed to get with ease 
 through rny guard, and to be raining in terrific 
 blows. It was too dark to see properly the 
 
102, MEMOIRS CfF WE CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 exact method of his attack, but when I found 
 blood flowing freely from several cuts on the 
 head I concluded not a moment too soon 
 that there was foul play somewhere. I therefore 
 landed him a blow on the side of the head with 
 my crop, and he dropped like a stone in the 
 road. I then discovered his secret power, and 
 the instrument with which these strange and 
 telling blows had been administered. He held 
 in his hand a big leather trace with a buckle 
 that had cut me like a knife. How effectively 
 the author of Lorna Doone, who has so pictur- 
 esquely described the encounters of John Eidd 
 and other west countrymen, could have dealt 
 with this incident ! There was something 
 distinctly out of the common in this short 
 and sharp struggle the place, the fast-waning 
 light, and above all the mysterious blows com- 
 bining to impart to it a weird element. When 
 afterwards the facts of the case were brought 
 to the notice of the police sergeant, he told 
 me I had had a narrow shave. The man, who, 
 by the way, was in liquor, possessed immense 
 strength, being a match for any two in the 
 district. " If he had closed with you, sir," 
 quoth the sergeant, " nothing could have saved 
 you." He added the information, that when not 
 
COCKNEY SPORTSMEN 103 
 
 driving the coach to Ilfracombe, the fellow was 
 leathering his wife's lovers. " We constantly 
 have to lock him up," said the sergeant, "but 
 it takes me and two of my men to do it." 
 
 Whilst living at Durrington which I often 
 used to find from twenty to twenty-five miles 
 distant at the end of a long day with the 
 Tedworth ! I would sometimes pay more than 
 flying visits to the New Forest, where there was 
 excellent shooting with nice mixed bags, and 
 hunting. Captain Frank Lovell, a fine horse- 
 man, was out two days a week with his fifteen 
 couple or so of hounds, and some of the runs with 
 that pack have not inaptly been compared with 
 hard bursts with the Devon and Somerset. A 
 
 nice horsewoman was Miss Alma , then a 
 
 well-known figure in New Forest fox-hunting 
 circles. Smart too and supercilious with Cockney 
 sportsmen was Miss Alma. Such a sportsman 
 one day when the hounds were at fault imagined 
 he had found the slot of the buck. He held up 
 his hat to Miss Alma, who rode up. Now what 
 he had really seen was the slot of a pig, which 
 to the uninitiated eye closely resembles that of 
 a buck. "Pig!" exclaimed the young lady, 
 looking hard at him, and instantly rode off. 
 
 Occasionally I used to go out with the Hawking 
 
104 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Club, though in no respect proficient in the 
 art of falconry. The old Hawking Club came 
 into existence in the year 1864. In the previous 
 year the Hon. Charles Buncombe had done a 
 good deal of rook hawking on the Wiltshire 
 downs, with Barr as his falconer. The sport 
 became so popular amongst some of the residents 
 in the district, that it was found quite practical 
 to form a club, which took over the management 
 of the hawks. Amongst the original members 
 of the club were Lord Lilford, one of the 
 greatest living authorities on British birds, and 
 author of the monumental work thereon, and 
 the Maharajah Dhuleep Singh. But in after 
 years the club flourished chiefly owing to the 
 exertions of the Hon. Gerald Lascelles, who is 
 now known as one of the foremost, if not the 
 foremost, authority on Hawking in the country. 
 His work on the subject is of course indispens- 
 able to those who desire to devote themselves 
 to this decidedly interesting, if not intensely 
 exciting, form of sport. Mr. Lascelles succeeded 
 Mr. Buncombe in the Seventies as secretary 
 and manager of the old Hawking Club. 
 
 Mr. Lascelles has given us some particulars 
 concerning the number of head of quarry 
 killed during recent seasons by the club. The 
 
HAWKING 105 
 
 first of these records is contained in liis 
 own work on the subject in the Badminton 
 Library. In 1887 the_ jtptal bag was 576 
 head, out of which the greatest number was 
 composed of rooks ; but there were also over 
 a hundred partridges and over a hundred rabbits 
 killed, together with a sprinkling of other birds. 
 The club being a travelling one, is able to 
 include on its list upwards of a hundred grouse 
 killed in Scotland. Last year it did not go 
 in for any game hawking in Scotland, and 
 moreover, as it has not kept a goshawk of 
 late, the returns are not quite so large as 
 formerly. " I think," wrote Mr. Lascelles very 
 recently, "that more people take up hawking 
 than formerly, but it can never become uni- 
 versally popular, because the greater part of 
 the country is enclosed, and but few T people 
 can follow the sport at their own homes, whereas 
 at one time most people could do so. It is 
 perhaps the most scientific and difficult of all 
 sports." Hawking has this advantage it can 
 be followed all the year round, which is the case 
 with so very few of our sports and games. 
 
 During this hunting period with the Ted- 
 worth, New Forest, and other packs, I was 
 rarely present at steeplechases, save in the 
 
106 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 capacity of a spectator. I took part in one 
 rather memorable meeting, however, on April 5, 
 1877. This was the Beaufort Hunt at Dauntsey, 
 near Chippenham. Though not quite so bad 
 as Hurst Park course, round which two 'Varsity 
 Blues double-sculled during the great flood of 
 1894, the scene of the Duke's annual meeting 
 was so much under water that we could not 
 have aspired to get round without swimming 
 our horses, so the course had to be altered on 
 the very morning of the races. I rode a mare 
 called Countess, with whom I hunted with the 
 Ted worth. But she was not much good in 
 
 o 
 
 deep ground, and fell with me when about half 
 way round. 
 
 The racing, as the name of the meeting 
 implies, was confined to hunters, and I cannot 
 say that it was of a very sensational character. 
 But there were some excellent riders taking 
 part in the meeting; amongst them Archie 
 Miles, a really good man to hounds. My mare 
 Countess, by the way, came from that favourite 
 sportsman, Fog Eowlands, about whom many 
 of us have pleasant recollections. 
 
 The Durrington district was very handy for 
 Stockbridge ; I attended the pleasant meetings 
 there pretty regularly, and a little later on 
 
ROUGH COMPANY 107 
 
 sometimes had a mount, though flat racing 
 has been even less my metier in England than 
 it was in India. Proposed by that grand old 
 sailor, the late Admiral Rous, and seconded by 
 the late Lord Portsmouth, I was elected a 
 member of the Bibury Club, and enjoyed 
 excellent sport and conviviality there. 
 
 At times there used to be some rough company 
 at Stockbridge. Once with several members of 
 the Bibury Club, amongst them Lord Marcus 
 Beresford and Sir John Astley, I was dining 
 in the coffee-room of the Grosvenor. Suddenly 
 a most detestable odour arose, which quite put 
 us off our dinner. What on earth could it be ? 
 Whilst we were wondering a raid was made 
 
 o 
 
 on the door leading from the street to the 
 entrance-hall by a handful of roughs, who 
 evidently came to lay their hands on every 
 article they could find worth carrying away. 
 Marcus and I rushed to the door and managed 
 to keep these fellows at bay. They could not 
 do very much against us, as the passage was 
 narrow and we quite filled between us the 
 doorway. Great sport we had, both of us 
 managing to work a good deal of havoc 
 amongst the intruders. How it all comes back 
 to me ! At length the roughs, getting better 
 
108 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 than they gave, retired, several of them with 
 more or less broken heads. I had just got rid of 
 one of my aggressors, and was re-arranging my 
 collar and tie, which had got misplaced, when 
 old Peter Crawshaw of all men in the world 
 came up, and intimated that the man on the 
 ground was a particular friend of his. It looked 
 as though I should now have to do battle with 
 Peter, but taking a second look he discovered 
 that he had made a mistake, and the matter 
 ended in laughter. 
 
 The appalling odour which had put us off our 
 dinner was now accounted for. It seemed that 
 one of these would-be looters had managed to 
 pass the porter and waiters and to find his way 
 into our room. There he proceeded to break a 
 bottle of assafcetida, in the vain hope that its 
 smell would clear the room, and so enable him 
 and his fellows to make a clean sweep of any 
 valuables therein. The disappointed rogues tried 
 on the same game again higher up the street. 
 
 O O O J. 
 
 They ended up the day in Andover Gaol. 
 
 The Bibury Club has always been a very 
 exclusive one. I recollect a candidate against 
 whom no word seems to have been breathed, 
 being " pilled " in a really extraordinary fashion. 
 This candidate was Lord , grandson of a 
 
THE LATE LOED PORTSMOUTH 109 
 
 great and rather notorious lawyer. It happened 
 that when his name came up neither proposer 
 
 nor seconder was present. Lord was not 
 
 a regular racing man, and nobody in the room 
 seems to have known anything at all about him. 
 His name was received with ominous silence, and 
 he was rejected. I was completely mystified, 
 and whispered to the Duke of Hamilton, the 
 
 President, " Why has Lord been pilled ? " 
 
 " Must have been mistaken for his grandfather ! " 
 was the reply. Had either proposer or seconder 
 
 been present, Lord would surely have been 
 
 elected, for there was nothing against him. 
 
 The late Lord Portsmouth was to be seen 
 regularly at Stockbridge meetings at this 
 period. He was a rare good fox-hunter, and 
 indeed a rare good fellow generally. Horse- 
 racing was not his favourite pursuit, and it was 
 therefore not very extraordinary perhaps to 
 find him once at Stockbridge taking evident 
 interest in an animal which looked quite out of 
 its element in the company of thoroughbreds. 
 I remarked on the poor quality of this beast, 
 and was tickled by his reply, " Yes ; but it 
 would do very nicely for my second whip." It 
 is not often you find a man engaged in spotting 
 hunters at a race meeting like Stockbridge. 
 
110 MEMOIRS QV SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 It was just about the time when I settled at 
 Durrington that Sandown Park was started, and 
 I did not miss many of the first meetings. It is 
 only fair to say that the credit of starting this 
 most popular course belongs largely to Lord 
 Charles Ker, though no doubt plenty of credit 
 also attaches to those who, since his connection 
 with Sandown ceased, have taken a great part 
 in the work of making it one of the most 
 successful and paying racing institutions in the 
 country. The site was, I believe, originally 
 pointed out to Ker by the late Mr. J. Mil ward. 
 He felt so satisfied that it was an excellent one 
 that he purchased it, and forthwith proceeded to 
 make a racecourse. He also planned the stands 
 himself, originated the club, and got the first 
 seven hundred members together. As stewards 
 for the first year Ker got three excellent men in 
 Admiral Rous, Lord Alington, and the late Mr. 
 George Payne. Finally, he drew up the pro- 
 gramme and the arrangements for the first 
 meeting. He had long had a great ambition to 
 improve suburban meetings, and of doing this 
 partly through an increase in the gate money, 
 and by having nothing under 100 added to 
 races. Afterwards, as all the racing world 
 knows, General Owen Williams, Hwfa Williams, 
 
. .1 FAMOUS PEDESTRIAN 111 
 
 and Sir Wilfred Brett became connected with 
 the course. Sandown was the first race meeting 
 of the kind in England where gate money was 
 made a feature. Now there are a number of 
 courses conducted on pretty much the same 
 lines. 
 
 A man I used to see a good deal of about this 
 time or a little later was John Chambers, one of 
 the best pedestrians and oarsmen Cambridge ever 
 turned out. He it was, it may be recollected, 
 who started the Lillie Bridge grounds, where the 
 'Varsity sports were held till within a few seasons 
 ago, and revived the Leander Club. I gave a 
 trophy for the Amateur Athletic Association 
 High Jump, in which he was so much inter- 
 ested, and it is still competed for. Chambers 
 was a fine swimmer, and may be said to have 
 brought out Webb. As a pedestrian too he was 
 at his best, and thirty years ago was the first 
 winner of the seven-mile champion race of the 
 Amateur Athletic Club. He once offered to 
 back himself, with George Payne, to walk 
 twenty-one miles in three hours, which would 
 have been a remarkable record had it come off. 
 But the project fell through. He told me he 
 was pretty confident that he would do it, and was 
 sure of his first fourteen miles in two hours. 
 
112 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Chambers was a close friend of Lord Queens- 
 berry's at Cambridge, and though not very 
 handy with the gloves himself, he thoroughly 
 understood boxing. Indeed, Lord Queensberry 
 assures me that he, practically speaking, drew 
 up the Queensberry rules. They were of course 
 passed by Queensberry, but scarcely edited at 
 all, save in one or two matters respecting 
 weights, etc. That he did his work well is 
 shown by the fact that the rules have undergone 
 no substantial change since they were adopted. 
 
 I trained for the Light Weight Amateur 
 Boxing Championship, but in doing so put on 
 no less than eight pounds, and not seeing the 
 fun of wasting this additional weight flung it up. 
 
 That Queensberry himself was no mean 
 runner at one time will be readily conceded 
 by those who can recall the incidents of a 
 memorable and very sporting race he ran many 
 years since against Fred Cotton, the author and 
 composer of The Meynell Hunt. This race was 
 a four-mile one over Bogside (Egiinton Hunt) 
 Steeplechase course, and several stiffish obstacles 
 had to be jumped. Cotton won, though only 
 by six yards, after a magnificent race. The 
 time was twenty-four minutes and fifteen 
 seconds, and the feat, under the circumstances, 
 
FEED COTTON 113 
 
 does not compare by any means badly with 
 some of the best records of the day over a 
 cinder track. Cotton was in those times a first- 
 class runner and also walker. On one occasion 
 he backed himself for a thousand to one to walk 
 from Ashbourne in Derbyshire to a certain point 
 in Perthshire, a distance of 347 miles, in seven 
 consecutive days. His feet went all to pieces 
 so early as the second day, and he actually 
 fainted twice. He struggled on gamely how- 
 ever, and won with three and a half hours in 
 hand. 1 Another remarkable performance of his 
 at Christchurch, New Zealand, deserves to be 
 placed on record : he walked for a wager one 
 hundred miles in twenty-two hours. 
 
 There are very few subjects in which Mr. 
 Gladstone is not interested. About horses, I 
 have been told, he neither knows nor cares 
 anything : but he used to be not a little inter- 
 ested in pedestrianism. Five-and-twenty years 
 since I often met him at the house of a friend, 
 and talked with him more than once on the 
 subject. He was much concerned to know what 
 a walker could accomplish without thoroughly 
 exhausting himself. 
 
 1 See Appendix, p. 365. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 STEEPLECHASING FROM 1880-5 
 
 Settling down as a steeplechaser A little politics 
 Amelia and L'Arethuse Concerning duelling Private 
 race meetings Making a course The posts and rails 
 question Has steeplechasing degenerated ? The open 
 ditch An ingenious jockey who got warned off 
 A fine jumper A strange accident Twelfth 
 Cake and Pudding Baker Pasha and the Hag 
 ballot- Two great jockeys The "cant back" A 
 terrible course at Galley wood Major Bringhurst 
 Sport in the East Woodcock and wild boar A win 
 after a fall The late Marquess of Ailesbury Mr. 
 Abingdon Baird Gordon's last postcard Steeple- 
 chasing one day, and ballooning the next Was " Baron 
 Hill " a rogue ? Getting a wrinkle from Sensier A 
 record by Yates. 
 
 SHORTLY after the Wiltshire period, I was 
 enabled to return once again to my old love, 
 steeplechasing, and from 1880 to the present 
 time have been almost continuously riding in 
 meetings all over the country. Eeckoning up 
 the other day, I found that in all I had ridden 
 
 over more than half a hundred different courses 
 
 U4 
 
A LITTLE POLITICS 115 
 
 to be exact, fifty-two including Ireland and 
 India, and had won races over twenty-three 
 courses out of this total. These courses have 
 been distributed over sixteen English counties, 
 and a good few of them such as Edenbridge, 
 Plumpstead, and Stoke Park now no longer 
 exist. I have ridden also over seven courses in 
 India, and won over six of them. In the early 
 Eighties I got a good many mounts on my own 
 and other horses chiefly the former though I 
 was also addressing myself about this period to 
 the pursuit of ballooning. 
 
 Upon settling down in Essex, one of the 
 first matters to which I turned my attention 
 was, of all things in the world, party politics ! 
 This was the first (and I hope it may be the 
 last) time in my life that I took any share in 
 the dull game of politics. Now-a-days, at any 
 rate, it seems to be pretty generally agreed, 
 even amongst the combatants, that party 
 warfare is so much " sound and fury signifying 
 nothing." Sir William Abdy was standing 
 for the division in which my house is situated, 
 and I helped to canvass the district for him. 
 However, insufferably dull as party politics are 
 as a rule, it chanced that there was a certain 
 amount of sport in this particular election. 
 
116 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 There was much fear that the factory hands 
 mostly confirmed Kadicals would not allow 
 the freemen most confirmed Tories to come 
 up to the poll, keeping them away by threats 
 and by actual deeds of violence. I told the 
 people who feared intimidation on the part 
 of the factory folk, " What you want is a handful 
 of fighting men to keep those fellows in order, 
 and to get your freemen to the poll." They 
 took up the idea, but gave me rather a large 
 order. I was to draft down to Maldon three 
 or four hundred fighting men. It was necessary 
 to explain that there were not so many in 
 England. However, we did get some men 
 down who understood their business, and the 
 freemen were able to record their votes all 
 right. To make assurance doubly sure, a nice 
 little gang of three score of coal-heavers, in 
 addition to the trained pugilists, were drafted 
 down from Colchester. I marshalled and com- 
 manded this force myself, but grieve to say that 
 certain of the party officials, when they saw how 
 thoroughly I had carried out the work, shunned 
 me religiously on the day of the election ! 
 
 Whilst on this subject of latter day elec- 
 tioneering, it may not be out of place to turn 
 back to the time of my grandfather, the late 
 
Mli. WINWS COSTLY CONTEST 117 
 
 Sir John Tyrell. He was in Essex politics for 
 not less than half a century, making his debut 
 in 1826. In that year Sir John stood on the 
 hustings to second the nomination of the 
 Hon. G. Winn. It was a great contest, very 
 protracted, very bitter, frightfully costly. It 
 was said indeed that Mr. Winn's dearly-purchased 
 victory on that occasion cost him the greater 
 part of 50,000. But that contest was not 
 half so eventful as one which took place four 
 years later for the county of Essex when my 
 grandfather was the Tory candidate against 
 Mr. Coll is, afterwards Lord Western, a Whig 
 politician of considerable note, and Mr. Long 
 AVellesley, a nephew of the Duke of Wellington. 
 Mr. Wellesley went so far in his virulent 
 abuse of Sir John Tyrell that he had to be 
 called to account. He disclaimed, however, 
 somewhat after the usual custom of politicians 
 at the present time when heaping terms of 
 abuse on each other, any intention of assail- 
 ing his opponent's personal honour. My grand- 
 father accepted this disclaimer, but took the 
 opportunity of intimating that he was "to 
 be found at Boreham House," if wanted at 
 any time. Good old days those were, with 
 all their corrupt electioneering ! A politician 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 then was deemed not a madman nor a criminal, 
 but an upright gentleman, because he held his 
 life not more valuable than his honour. Sir 
 John eventually headed the poll, Mr. Western 
 and Mr. Wellesley coming second and third 
 respectively. 
 
 Eather curiously, though this Mr. Wellesley, 
 who afterwards became Lord Mornington, did 
 not see his way to take on my grandfather, 
 Sir John Tyrell, he was actually engaged in a 
 duel later on with my great-uncle the Eev. 
 Heaton de Crespigny who prior to being a 
 parson fought in the celebrated action between 
 the Amelia and L'Arethuse. Wellesley had 
 insulted Sir William de Crespigny, his father, 
 who was paralyzed, and my great-uncle ac- 
 cordingly had him out. " You think I have 
 only got a black coat," he said to Wellesley ; 
 " you are wrong : I've a shooting one as 
 well." 
 
 This engagement between the Amelia and 
 L'Arethuse is quite one of the most interesting 
 incidents in the naval history of the century, 
 and it is curious that it should be so little 
 known in comparison with the contest between 
 the Shannon and Chesapeake, or between Sir 
 Richard Grenville's Revenge and the Spanish 
 
'AMELIA' AND ' UARETHUSE* 119 
 
 fleet. Tennyson has made the latter immortal 
 in his ballad, but it has been questioned whether 
 the melting away of Lord Howard into the 
 " silent summer heaven " on that occasion with 
 five ships of war, was altogether a creditable 
 affair, though the poet did his best to exonerate 
 his discreet lordship. In the duel between 
 the Amelia and L'Arethuse, on the other 
 hand, there is nought that reflects anything 
 save glory on all concerned on the British 
 side. 
 
 The incident took place early in Feb. 1813, 
 during the great war with France. Captain 
 Irby, whose family, by the way, intermarried 
 with mine, was just thinking of leaving Sierra 
 Leone, where his ship, the Amelia, had been 
 stationed for a while, when a Lieutenant Pascoe 
 came in hot haste to the Sierra Leone river with 
 the crew of the gun-brig Daring, which he had 
 been obliged to run ashore and blow up in 
 consequence of having been pursued by a French 
 frigate backed up by two other ships. A 
 reconnoitring party was at once despatched by 
 Captain Irby, who soon found a force consisting 
 of two frigates, of the largest and most powerful 
 class, named L'Arethuse and Le Rubis, together 
 with a Portuguese ship that they had captured. 
 
120 MEMOIRS OF SIti CLAUDE DE CliESPIGNY 
 
 Captain Irby left Sierra Leone and worked up to 
 the Islands of de Loss. He speedily fell in with 
 L'Arethuse, and endeavoured, not unsuccessfully, 
 to draw her off her consort, as he was naturally 
 not anxious to engage both these powerful 
 vessels at the same time if he could help it. 
 When the last vestige of the Le Rubis had 
 disappeared, the captain of the Amelia shortened 
 sail, and stood towards his threatening and 
 probably overweeningly confident foe. The 
 French ship was far stronger in guns and com- 
 plement than the British, and eagerly availed itself 
 of the invitation to battle. She carried on her 
 deck some heavy French twenty-four-pounders 
 in addition to other guns. 
 ' At about seven in the evening the French 
 ship ran up her colours, and three-quarters of 
 an hour later, the two vessels being then 
 within pistol-shot of one another, a great duel 
 commenced. Both fired the first shots at about 
 the same time, and both preserved throughout 
 the encounter pretty well the same position. 
 For over three hours and a half they poured 
 shot into each other. All the onslaughts of 
 L'Arethuse were repulsed by the brave men of 
 the Amelia, who, like the men of the Revenge, 
 shook off the Frenchmen 
 
OF THE 'AMELIA' 121 
 
 " as a dog that shakes his ears 
 When he leaps from the water to the land." 
 
 Then at length L'Arethuse bore away. She 
 went with many dead and wounded on board, 
 and not uninjured as to her hull, and made no 
 further attempt then or afterwards to tackle 
 the Amelia. The British ship, when the duel 
 was ended, was found to be in a quite un- 
 governable condition. Her sails and rigging 
 were all cut to pieces, and her masts lay in 
 ruins about the decks. Captain Irby was him- 
 self wounded when on the quarter-deck, and 
 his list of killed and wounded numbered 141. 
 The Amelia, it should be mentioned, had, like 
 the little Revenge, a number of sick men on 
 board, and she had barely her full complement 
 fit for duty when she dared the French ship. 
 Some may feel inclined to ask, like little Casper, 
 what good came of it at last ; but few will deny 
 that it is a splendid incident in the history 
 of our Navy. 
 
 The affair above mentioned between Heaton 
 de Crespigny and Wellesley took place in the 
 year 1828, and is thus described in a newspaper 
 of that time " On Thursday, a duel was fought 
 on the sands at Calais between Mr. Long "Wel- 
 lesley and Mr. De Crespigny. The dispute 
 
122 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE I)E CRESPIGNY 
 
 originated in a remark made by Mr. Wellesley 
 respecting some parts of the conduct of Mr. De 
 Crespigny's father. He was requested to retract 
 it ; and on his refusal a challenge was sent to 
 him by the two Mr. De Crespignys, when all the 
 parties started at full speed from Dover to Calais. 
 Colonel John Freemantle of the Guards was 
 second to Mr. Wellesley, and Captain Brooke, 
 also of the Guards, attended his antagonist. 
 The duel was fought on the sands immediately 
 after the arrival of the seconds. Both parties 
 fired together on a given signal at the distance 
 of ten paces, and neither of them happening to 
 be wounded, the seconds immediately interfered. 
 A question here arose with respect to the second 
 challenge, as to how far it was or was not to be 
 accepted, when Captain Brooke decided that 
 Mr. Long Wellesley had done as much as he was 
 required to do. The parties then separated and 
 returned from Calais on Friday morning to 
 Dover, where Mrs. Bligli at the York Hotel was 
 waiting with great anxiety the arrival of Mr. 
 Wellesley, and, accompanied by him and Colonel 
 Freemantle, she has since left Dover for London." 
 The final paragraph has more than a spice of the 
 new and personal journalism about it. 
 
 My own views on duelling were freely 
 
CONCERNING DUELLING 123 
 
 expressed some years since in the press, and 
 they have undergone no change since then. 
 The duel, when it generally prevailed in this 
 country, was not without its grave attendant 
 evils, but the same may be said of many 
 desirable institutions. The code of honour 
 which regulated the acts of the Iron Duke is 
 surely good enough for most of us, and we all 
 know that he was not inclined to shirk a duel 
 when his personal honour was concerned. 
 
 Most men who have reached the meridian 
 of life can recall some fracas or episode in which 
 insulting expressions have been made use of 
 by those supposed to be of the creme de la 
 creme in the world of society, when an appeal 
 to mortal combat has been suggested as the 
 only method of settling the difficulty ; and 
 why the trusty steel of these fire-eating but 
 degenerate descendants of gallant gentlemen has 
 remained unsheathed has always been a mystery 
 to me. Of course though challenges are perhaps 
 more frequently flying about amongst English 
 gentlemen than the world seems to be aware 
 of it w r ould be an act of folly to go out in this 
 country, law and custom both prohibiting it. 
 But, across the water, duelling is practically 
 winked at. I would not go so far as to say that 
 
124 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE ClititiPIGNY 
 
 the injured party is compelled to parade the 
 wrong-doer, but I do maintain that should the 
 latter be challenged, he is bound, if a gentleman, 
 to go out. 
 
 One of the last duels fought in this country 
 
 was between Colonel H and Lord M . 
 
 The former, whom I knew well for many years, 
 but whose full name I refrain from giving in 
 order not to cause pain to his family, was a 
 wonderfully fine pistol-shot. But in this in- 
 stance, owing probably to the sun being in 
 his face as he fired, his ball only grazed his 
 
 opponent's face. Lord M discharged his 
 
 weapon in the air. 
 
 Before quitting the subject, I may refer to 
 a curious memento which used to be worn 
 by Baron Malortie, whom I have already alluded 
 to as a duellist. This was a bullet made into 
 a scarf-pin. It had struck him on a rib over 
 the heart, and been cut out near the spine. 
 He wore this, believing that it would bring 
 him luck in future combats. Malortie now ably 
 wields the instrument said to be mightier than 
 the sword. 
 
 This duelling digression has taken me a good 
 way from the subject of steeplechasing, with 
 which the chapter commenced. I had for some 
 
PRIVATE RACE MEETINGS 125 
 
 time before settling down in Essex had it in 
 my mind to have one day a cross-country 
 meeting of my own. At that time Lord Guild- 
 ford, so far as I am aware, was about the only 
 man who had carried out such an idea. His 
 meetings at Waldershare were a decided success, 
 though I do not speak from personal experience, 
 never having ridden there myself. More recently 
 Mr. Harry McCalmont has established a course 
 on his own estate, though naturally on a more 
 princely scale than that at either Waldershare 
 or Champion Lodge. Moreover, the Waldershare 
 and Champion Lodge steeplechasing meetings 
 were started with the idea of catering principally 
 for local hunts, which was not, I take it, Mr. 
 McCalmont's object. I had already had ex- 
 perience in making a steeplechase course, having 
 been engaged in the work in India. In the 
 autumn of 1876 I made a course for my regi- 
 ment at Seetapore. I tried Baby Blake over some 
 of the jumps, and, when the meeting came off, 
 won a good race. Few cross-country riders have 
 had the chance perhaps of winning about the first 
 race over a course they have themselves made ! 
 
 The task of making a steeplechase course in 
 India in those days was not a hard one to a man 
 with any knowledge of the sport. There were no 
 
126 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 regulations as regards the jumps, and native 
 labour was cheap. My Seetapore course was a mile 
 round, and the jumps consisted of a stiffish double, 
 a mud-wall, and bush fences. I superintended, 
 and set two or three riflemen to keep an eye on 
 the natives employed. In March 1881 we set 
 to work to make a course at Champion Lodge, 
 and in less than a week had it ship-shape. 
 The expenses were inconsiderable, as the work 
 was performed by men in my own employ. 
 There were several suitable fields round my 
 house, and practically all we had to do was to 
 make the necessary jumps, and erect a stand or 
 two. It was necessary later on, but not at the 
 time of the first meeting, to comply with the 
 regulations as regards fences, etc., laid down by the 
 stewards of the National Hunt, as the meetings 
 were to be held under the aegis of that body ; but 
 this proved an easy enough task. As regards 
 stands, I found a man ready enough to put up one 
 for nothing on the condition that he should be 
 allowed to erect a second one on his own account, 
 and charge those who use it a small sum. We 
 decided not to go on the gate-money principle. 
 It would not have tended to make the meetings 
 popular in the district, and the object of the 
 Champion Lodge private course has always been 
 
THE POSTS AND RAILS QUESTION 127 
 
 to afford sport and amusement to Essex folk, as 
 well as to our own immediate circle of friends. 
 
 The posts and rails, as every one knows, have 
 been abolished in steeplechasing ; and we never 
 had them at our little meeting. Some people 
 think that the change was not for the best. The 
 last time I rode over posts and rails was at 
 Ipswich. They certainly had this drawback, that 
 horses occasionally got into a habit of chancing 
 them, as they chance hurdles, with evil results. 
 A stickler for timber jumps persisted on having 
 posts and rails once at Aldershot. General Byrne 
 was one of the stewards. " Very well," said he ; 
 " what height will you have them ? " The reply 
 was " three feet six inches." They were put up, 
 and on the day of the meeting the only man who 
 came to grief was the stickler himself. He broke 
 his collar-bone over this particular jump. 
 
 At Ipswich the posts and rails were substituted 
 one year for the big double fence which was 
 properly a couple of fences with a space of a yard 
 or so between but found a failure, and once 
 more abandoned. There was a certain feeling 
 against this big fence, and I was approached by 
 the malcontents and asked to get up an indig- 
 nation meeting in the matter. I declined, not 
 regarding the jump with disfavour. 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 The abolition of the posts and rails may to a 
 certain degree have lessened the danger of steeple- 
 chasing. In a blinding storm, for instance, the 
 jump was sometimes a difficult one to see properly. 
 Does the lessening of danger in this, and other 
 respects, tend to emasculate the cross-country 
 sport ? People are constantly asking me whether 
 I consider that steeplechasing has degenerated 
 since I first donned colours. On the whole, I am 
 not prepared to say that it has. The horses are 
 far finer creatures than they were a quarter of 
 a century ago: no "cocktail," such as often 
 used to win in those days, would have a chance 
 in a big race now. Then the courses are far 
 more numerous, as are also the riders. Last, 
 but not least, the pace is greater and the jumping 
 more perfect. At the same time, though it will 
 be seen I am not indiscriminately in this matter 
 a laudator temporis acti, I am bound to admit 
 that to a certain degree steeplechasing to-day is 
 rather inclined to become, in some respects, a 
 kid-glove kind of business compared with what 
 it was of yore. Many of the best and biggest 
 courses are attended to almost like tennis-lawns 
 or cricket-pitches. The "take-off" and landing 
 in particular are looked after with the greatest care. 
 When a frost threatens, straw is usually put down 
 
'CUT AND DKY' STEEPLECHASING 129 
 
 to keep the ground from becoming too hard, and 
 one even hears of the whole course being in some 
 instances treated with the same tenderness. 
 Then all the jumps are strictly in accordance with 
 regulation. In short, there is an undoubted 
 tendency now-a-days to, as it were, "cut and 
 dry " our steeplechasing. 
 
 A similar tendency evinces itself in various 
 other sports. We become more scientific and 
 more methodical. Compare, for instance, the 
 hunting of big game as practised to-day with 
 the same sport as practised a quarter of a 
 century ago. We face big game now with 
 weapons which make the clumsy old rifle seem 
 a thing only fit to be put in the hands of 
 a savage ; and in proportion as our weapons 
 become more perfect our method of big-game 
 shooting must become more of the kid-glove 
 kind. When I first entered the steeplechasing 
 world, we had often on quite important courses 
 to face in bad weather the most frightful 
 ground. To ride over heavy ploughed land was 
 quite the rule rather than the exception, and 
 the jumps were often of the rudest character. 
 It is when I contrast this state of things with 
 existing conditions that I feel inclined to use 
 the expression kid-glove style in reference to 
 
130 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 steeplcchasing at the present time. On the 
 other hand, the vast improvement in horses 
 makes great amends for the falling off in these 
 respects. The steeplechase is to-day, as ever, 
 a magnificent form of sport. 1 
 
 I doubt, however, whether it would long 
 remain so if the safety-at-any-price party had 
 their way. I have admitted candidly that the 
 posts and rails had drawbacks, but really 
 there are people calling themselves sportsmen, 
 well nigh ready to put an end to jumping 
 altogether. There is the open-ditch scare, 
 which periodically arises. Drawing-room sports- 
 men take exception to the open ditch because, 
 so they declare, no horse can manage it 
 with safety unless regularly educated over a 
 wholly artificial jump ; and it has even been 
 described as a death-trap. When Sly came to 
 grief over the open ditch as we all must 
 expect to do more or less from time to time 
 the Grand National Hunt were adjured to 
 
 1 In regard to this question, by the way, Wenty Hope 
 Johnstone, who naturally speaks with great weight on 
 such a subject, wrote very recently to a friend " Horses 
 and jockeys are as good as ever they were : it is a sure 
 sign of increasing years and general want of discrimination 
 when those who have ridden, or owned, try and make out 
 that such is not the case," 
 
THE OPEN DITCH 131 
 
 do u\vay with it. Lord Queensberry proved 
 conclusively a few years ago that the agitation 
 against the open ditch was a most unreasonable 
 one, instancing the number of times it was 
 negotiated in the Grand National without any 
 casualty. 
 
 According to my experience, the open ditch 
 is right enough provided a horse has been 
 properly schooled, for naturally out hunting 
 one finds as many ditches on the take-off side 
 as on the landing ; whilst with guard-rails, 
 which most steeplechase courses have, the take- 
 off is much more distinct to the horses. Of 
 course it happens now and then that a most 
 perfect fencer will slip in taking-off. Lord 
 Chancellor, the best of fencers, went wrong thus, 
 and old Champion more recently, at the mature 
 age of twelve years, slipped into the open ditch 
 at Plumpton, where I have on one occasion 
 found myself, and alongside of which poor Billy 
 Sensier was killed. Some say that this ditch at 
 Plumpton is the most formidable in the south 
 of England. 
 
 But the bulk of "the grief" is simply 
 owing to a lot of half-schooled four-year-olds 
 bringing down other horses. Sly's accident, 
 I was informed by reliable eye-witnesses, was 
 
132 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESFIGNY 
 
 attributable to the seventy of the pace, which 
 had exhausted the horse, so that a sheep- 
 hurdle would have been as likely to have 
 caused the mischief as the open ditch which 
 actually did so. 
 
 Before quitting this subject, a few words may 
 be said about the agitation against steeplechasing 
 on the ground that it entails frequent cruelty to 
 animals. Almost as much has been said on this 
 score at various times as on that of damage to the 
 riders. It is moonshine. The number of accidents 
 fatal to man and beast on the steeplechase course 
 are remarkably few, and the sufferings of the 
 latter are, on the whole, as nothing compared to 
 those endured by many a London cab-horse. No 
 pains are spared to get steeplechasers into the 
 most perfect condition. They live in the best 
 stables, and on carefully selected oats and hay, 
 in return for which they are expected to make 
 an effort lasting for a few seconds about a 
 dozen times in the year, and to negotiate fences 
 over which they are constantly schooled. More- 
 over, the pain suffered by horses that do come 
 to grief would seem to have been, except in the 
 case of breakdowns, altogether exaggerated. At 
 all events, I have myself observed a horse with 
 a broken back calmly grazing, though necessarily 
 
CHAMPION LODGE STEEPLECHASES 133 
 
 unable to move its hind-quarters. A broken leg 
 is comparatively painless until stiffness sets in, 
 and before that, as a rule, a friendly bullet has 
 done its work. 
 
 The opening meeting of the Champion Lodge 
 Hunt and Military Steeplechases took place 
 about a fortnight after the course was got into 
 final order, namely, on March 30, 1881. The 
 programme consisted of six events, namely, 
 Farmers' Cup, Ladies' Cup, Hunt Cup, Military 
 Cup, Consolation Steeplechase, and a Match. 
 The course was about a mile in length, and there 
 were about half-a-dozen jumps. The fences 
 were regarded as rather stiff ones, the in and out 
 being the most ticklish to negotiate. There was 
 no serious accident, but a fair number of 
 tumbles, and one horse looked as if it were done 
 for, though it ultimately turned out that it was 
 not injured at all. The most popular win was 
 probably that of Billy White, who steered his 
 horse Tommy Dodd to victory in the Hunt 
 Cup. Billy at the time was between fifty and 
 sixty years of age, yet he romped in as he was 
 wont to do at Middlewick. The Ladies' Cup 
 fell to Lady de Crespigny's Wild Georgie, which 
 I rode myself. Cartridge got beaten in the 
 match by Mr. Laurence's Sam, ridden by owner. 
 
134 MEMOIRS OF SIH CLAUDE 1)E CliESPlGNY 
 
 Previous to this meeting at Champion Lodge, 
 I had been getting my hand in a little over 
 a few local courses. For instance, on September 
 18, 1880, Wild Georgie carried me to victory 
 in the Officers' Challenge Cup, in the Kegiinental 
 Races, got up by the Loyal Suffolk Hussars at 
 Bury. AVe all rode this cup race twice over, 
 owing to an odd mistake made by Colonel 
 Blake who was leading, and took us the wrong 
 course. The mistake discovered, we had to 
 return, and re-ride the race. 
 
 It does sometimes happen that in a mist or 
 a bad light a jockey goes round the wrong post 
 by accident. But once at Bury St. Edmunds 
 in a race I was riding in, I could not bring my- 
 self to believe that an opponent who did so was 
 quite unaware of his mistake. In this instance 
 the leading horse went wrong, and whilst the 
 other jockeys in front of me were turning their 
 heads to chaff their friend, they missed a post 
 themselves. Being second, I lodged an objection 
 against one of these jockeys who beat me, and 
 with several witnesses in my favour, including 
 the rider who first went wrong, the decision 
 went against him. Still he swore thick and thin 
 that lie had not done anything of the kind. 
 I accordingly went down the course with him, 
 
AN INGENIOUS JOCKEY 135 
 
 and pointed out where the thing had taken 
 place. As it happened, I was able to show his 
 horse's footmarks on the wrong side of the post. 
 This seemed conclusive, but still he persevered 
 in his well-played part of injured innocence. 
 "Those are the footmarks, Sir Claude," he ex- 
 claimed, as a last resort, " of a cantering, not a 
 galloping, horse ! " He afterwards got warned 
 off, and is now driving a hansom cab. 
 
 Many a jockey has lost a good race, more 
 especially no doubt in bad weather, through 
 being deceived by a post. These little things 
 happen much more often than many onlookers 
 may suppose in both racing and steeplechasing, 
 and help to increase the glorious uncertainty of 
 the sport. Billy Bevill once pointed me out a 
 post at a Bibury meeting which he described 
 as one that had been the means of losing more 
 races in its time than any other in England. 
 "Do you see the one I mean?" he asked, 
 pointing it out to me. "Perfectly," I replied. 
 We advanced a few yards. "Do you see it 
 now ? " he asked, and I found that I had quite 
 lost sight of it. Curiously enough, this post 
 won Bevill a race on that very day a few 
 hours later. Jewitt, whilst leading, was deceived 
 by it, and took the favourite, who was following 
 
136 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE D$ CRESPIGNY 
 
 him, out of the course. That gave Bevill a 
 good lead, which he maintained, winning easily. 
 
 Earlier in 1881 my mare Cartridge, whom I 
 had purchased in the New Forest from an 
 officer quartered at Christchurch, and brought 
 with me to Essex, won a jumping competition 
 in some sports got up by Major Yeldham at 
 Yeldham. She cleared the hurdles very clean, 
 and so won the prize, though pitted against a 
 decidedly brilliant juniper, who only a short 
 time before was first at the Agricultural Hall 
 with a jump of six feet three inches. On this 
 occasion my opponent " chanced " the hurdles, 
 and so got beaten by Cartridge. 
 
 I must not omit to mention a remarkable 
 accident to a horse which I witnessed early 
 in the same year, when out with the East 
 Essex near Braxted Park. Huzzar, a horse 
 belonging to my brother, which a friend was 
 riding, got pierced in the stomach by a stake, 
 and died in two minutes, owing doubtless to 
 the severance of an artery. Colonel Holroyd, 
 an old Master of Hounds in my part of the 
 world, was near when the strange accident 
 occurred, and called me back just in time to 
 see the horse fall over, with a stream of blood 
 pouring out of the wound. The injury was 
 
A STRANGE ACCIDENT 137 
 
 inflicted by a pointed stake, which had evidently 
 been removed from its place in the hedge 
 in order to make a gap. Both ends were 
 pointed, and after removal from the hedge one 
 stuck in the ground, whilst the other was tilted 
 up at an angle of forty-five or so, by the horse's 
 fore-foot, just right for spearing a horse in the 
 stomach. As luck would have it, the horse had 
 been sold only the same day at Brighton. 
 
 We have happily never had any fatal accident, 
 though now and then a few unimportant ones, 
 on the Champion Lodge course. In 1882, 
 however, I came very near killing Mr. Bruen in 
 a way not altogether dissimilar to that recorded 
 above. In finishing the race for the United 
 Service Cup, my horse, Twelfth Cake, trod 
 on, and struck upwards, the spike of the flag. 
 Bruen was coming up immediately behind me, 
 and the stake grazed his horse's shoulder, 
 actually removing some of the hair without 
 drawing blood. Seeing what had happened, 
 Bruen instantly loosened his grip of the saddle 
 and allowed the lance to pass between his thigh 
 and the saddle-flap. B^e carried the thing 
 a few paces, and then opened his thigh and let 
 it drop a very narrow escape for both horse 
 and rider. 
 
138 MEMOIHS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 A trip to Aldershot in April 1881 was not 
 productive of much sport. I did not take part 
 in the Point to Point Steeplechase on the 13th, 
 which was ridden along the Hog's Back, and 
 finished on a farm of Mr. Shrubb, the present 
 Master of the Tedworth ; whilst a week later 
 Wild Georgie refused, and spoilt any chance 
 I had of winning the steeplechase open to officers 
 of the Auxiliary Cavalry. 
 
 The next entry in my diary is May 9, 1881. 
 Marcus Beresford and myself repaired to Epsom, 
 I to ride Twelfth Cake. The horse was pur- 
 chased from Marcus, and won some fair races 
 in this and following years. On May 12 
 Twelfth Cake, with myself up, got first past the 
 post in the Military Steeplechases at Ipswich. 
 In this race Wilson Todd, on Punchbowl, came 
 down at the fence opposite the Stand, and the 
 crowd rushed in apparently ignorant of the fact 
 that there were other horses to come up. I was 
 last up, and to stop was out of the question. 
 Twelfth Cake went in amongst the mob pell- 
 mell, and bade fair to make some human mince- 
 meat. There seemed to be eight or ten of them 
 down at the same time. I know that it occurred 
 to me that about the next place I should find 
 myself in would be a coroner's court instead 
 
TWELFTH CAKE* 130 
 
 of a racecourse ; but no serious damage seems 
 to have been done, and Twelfth Cake, despite 
 this incident, won the race. On the same day 
 I was successful with Wild Georgie, in a match 
 against Silvertail, who was ridden by the 
 owner. 
 
 On the following day there was more chasing, 
 and Twelfth Cake was entered for one race. 
 Finding, however, I could not ride the weight, I 
 put up a boy, who rode well enough, but got 
 beaten. On the 14th there was pigeon-shooting, 
 and I won the Kegimental Cup and double rise. 
 Indeed I was in good cup form at this meeting, 
 winning three in all, namely, Swordsmanship, 
 Pigeon-Shooting, and Kegimental. It was at 
 Ipswich that the Duke of Hamilton made a 
 present of Pudding to Wenty Hope John stone. 
 Many people thought that the horse was an 
 utter crock, but after he had passed out of the 
 Duke's hands he won a heap of races. As a 
 six-year-old this horse who was by Brown 
 Bread out of Claretto, and was a half-brother 
 of Twelfth Cake won no less than eleven 
 races, giving on one occasion as much as 10 Ibs. 
 to Johnnie Longtail. 
 
 Four days later came the Suffolk Yeomanry 
 Cavalry Kaccs, when for the second time running 
 
140 MEMOIRS Off SIR CLAUDE DE CliESPIGNY 
 
 I won on Wild Georgie the Challenge Cup, 
 and was therefore entitled to keep it. This 
 mare was an undeniably useful one. She was 
 by Rosicrucian out of Bel Esperanza. The 
 former, all racing men know, was one of Sir 
 Joseph Hawley's very best. Walking early in the 
 Seventies from Oxford to Southampton, I looked 
 up Porter at Kingsclere, and he told me that 
 the world had no idea of what a superb horse 
 Rosicrucian really was. He said he wanted to 
 bring him out once more to let people see how 
 good he was, and then put him to stud. Rosi- 
 crucian was brought out after this at Ascot, and 
 won the Ascot Stakes carrying 9 stone, and the 
 Alexandra Plate carrying 9 stone 7 Ibs. He 
 made hacks of all his opponents. Bel 
 Esperauza does not appear to have been a 
 particular flier. Wild Georgie was purchased 
 from old John Tubb, the Winchester dealer, 
 quite a character in his line. Once a horse let 
 out for the day by Tubb bolted with the carriage 
 and its unhappy occupants the best part of the 
 way back from Cranberry Park to Winchester. 
 Arrived home, the hirer remonstrated with the 
 worthy dealer, saying that this was about the 
 hottest specimen of a nag he had ever had, which 
 was saying a good deal, from those stables. 
 
OLD JOHN TUBS 141 
 
 Thereupon Tubb quietly called his irate customer's 
 attention to the extreme originality displayed in 
 the fixing of the reins, which had been buckled 
 to the rings of the collar. 
 
 On another occasion Tubb found it more 
 difficult to defend himself. An officer had en- 
 trusted a horse to the dealer, with injunctions 
 to give him a nice loose box, as he needed rest. 
 He returned from leave to the stables before 
 Tubb expected him, and could not see his horse 
 until a team from Hambledon Eaces came in. 
 In that team was his animal. Denunciation 
 ensued : " Well," exclaimed the aggrieved dealer, 
 "if this isn't hard on me, sir. I never can do 
 anything wrong without being found out ! " 
 
 This meeting of the Suffolk Yeomanry Cavalry 
 was in one respect unfortunate for those taking 
 part therein. All the horses were disqualified 
 for ever afterwards. The event had been sent 
 in a few hours too late to appear in the Calendar. 
 This being so, the best thing for Wild Georgie 
 was to go and try her fortune in a race or two 
 abroad. I saw her off at St. Catherine's Wharf 
 next month, having lent her to a gunner friend, 
 who was keen on winning a race at Spa. He 
 only managed, however, to be placed second. 
 A little incident in connection with an old 
 
142 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 acquaintance of mine, Baker, which took place 
 about this time, will perhaps not be read without 
 interest by the many admirers of that most 
 gallant and excellent soldier. On June 25, 1881, 
 I came to town for the purpose of giving my 
 vote at the " Eag " in the matter of his candidature 
 for re-election. I rather fancy that Baker is the 
 one instance of a member of the "Kag" being 
 re-elected after his resignation. There was rather 
 a strong contingent against him, and as a result 
 the balloting was a close thing. I was with my 
 brother during the balloting, and when his turn 
 came observed that he had selected a light- 
 coloured ball, and was about to flip it carelessly 
 into either pocket. Now though a light-coloured 
 ball, it would if it had gone into the wrong pocket 
 have been counted as a black ball. Fortunately 
 I just warned him in time, and he sent his ball 
 into the right pocket. On a balance there was 
 only a very narrow margin, two or three in 
 favour of Baker, so that if my brother had sent 
 the ball into the wrong pocket it would actually 
 have been a case of rejection. No doubt Baker 
 felt his practical banishment from England 
 acutely, but in a way it was the making of him. 
 I mean it is likely that had it not been for this 
 he would never have had the splendid oppor- 
 
PASHA BAKER AND THE RAG BALLOT 143 
 
 tunities which actually presented themselves to 
 him in the Russo-Turkish war and in Egypt. 
 Surely the proudest moment of his life must have 
 been when the Colonel of his old regiment re- 
 quested Baker to place himself at its head for a 
 brief while. It is difficult to conceive a greater 
 triumph for an officer than this. 
 
 Less serious perhaps was the attempt made at 
 the same club some years later by a small clique 
 to get rid of me, because I went to Carlisle to 
 see that no hitch occurred in connection with 
 the execution of three murderers there. An 
 ex-High Sheriff having informed me my name 
 was likely to be pricked for the office of sheriff, 
 I considered that I was not exceeding my duty 
 in seeing to a matter of this kind. The attempt 
 to remove my name from the list of members of 
 the club proved an utter failure. Two V. C. 
 men led the opposition in my favour, and 
 an overwhelming majority voted against my 
 expulsion. 
 
 In my diary for the summer and early autumn 
 of 1881 were entries concerning cricket matches, 
 of which I rather fancy I was not always magna 
 pars in either batting or bowling lawn- tennis, 
 and haymaking ! In the autumn and winter 
 of the same year I devoted myself more to fox- 
 
144 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 hunting and shooting than to chasing ; but on 
 one occasion I won a race or two at a meeting 
 
 o 
 
 at Galley wood Common in October. Cartridge 
 in a match turned the tables on Sam, and Wild 
 Georgie won the Hack Eace. The meeting was 
 of a decidedly hole-and-corner character, and 
 was not held under National Hunt Kules. We 
 never got paid our stakes, and perhaps it served 
 us right for taking part in such a bogus meeting. 
 I recollect amongst other things that the muddled 
 starter asked me how many horses there were at 
 the post ! In those days they were not so mightily 
 particular, and probably experiences similar to 
 my Galleywood Common one have fallen to the 
 lot of a good many men who rode much at that 
 time, and were ready to ride anywhere if there 
 was a chaiice of sport. 
 
 In its palmy days though, Galleywood had 
 amongst its patrons some very prominent sports- 
 men, such as Admiral Eous, General Wood, 
 Caledon Alexander, and Prince Soltykoff, of 
 whom, alas ! the last-named is alone left to us. 
 
 Biding through the heavens rather than on 
 the earth took my fancy in the following year. 
 But as my ballooning expeditions have been 
 invariably made in the summer time, aeronautics 
 did not greatly militate against steeplechasing. 
 
TWO GREAT JOCKEYS 145 
 
 Before 1882 was very old, I had been in the 
 saddle more than once at Epsom, riding Twelfth 
 Cake, Ethiopean, and other horses in Jones' 
 stables. My visits indeed to Epsom all through 
 the Eighties were neither few nor far between, 
 and one and all were directed to the stables 
 of my old mentor Jack Jones. The two best 
 cross-country jockeys at the time when I first 
 seriously addressed myself to steeplechasing in 
 England were, in my opinion, Jack Jones and 
 Bob I'Anson. The former taught me much of 
 what I know about riding. For nine years he 
 was top of the tree amongst cross-country jockeys, 
 a brilliant record. Bewicke and Nightingall are 
 worthy successors of Jones and FAnson. 
 
 At one time and another a good many criti- 
 cisms, some complimentary, some the reverse, 
 have been passed on my riding, and not long 
 since the Sportsman was discoursing on what 
 is not inaptly called the "free cant back," 
 which has been identified with my style of 
 horsemanship. This so-called " cant back," one 
 of the great and obvious advantages of which is 
 the removal of the weight in jumping from off 
 the horse's shoulder, was eminently characteristic 
 of Jones 7 style of horsemanship, and I suppose I 
 fell into the same style myself from riding so 
 
146 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 much with him a dozen years since. That 
 superb rider, Billy Morris, like Jack Jones, was 
 certainly a believer in the " cant back," and I 
 have noticed the same in Arthur Nightingall, 
 and other amateur and professional riders. 
 
 Here is the reference in the Sportsman a 
 very friendly one "Do not let any one think 
 that I am holding Sir Claude de Crespigny up 
 as a model steeplechase rider, though I will say 
 this for him none sits better over his fences 
 than he does. I allude specially to the free cant 
 back on landing, which so few ever master. 
 Arthur Nightingall is one of those few, arid I 
 have often thought on seeing him landing over 
 a fence with his horse's croup nearly touching 
 his back, what a lot he must save his mount 
 as compared with the crouched-up images who 
 are never off their horse's shoulders." 
 
 A sly fellow, when he chose, was Jack Jones. 
 One day, discussing with him the merits of 
 various jockeys, I remarked on the admirable 
 riding of men like Billy Morris and Greville 
 Nugent. " I suppose, Jack," I said, " you don't 
 expect to see many more soldier riders as good 
 as those two ? " " Ah, indeed, no," he replied ; 
 " let's see, sir ; Mr. Greville Nugent ah, yes, I 
 knew the gentleman, and, if I recollect aright, he 
 
CHAMPION LODGE STEEPLECHASES ui 
 
 was killed at S.andown." This was pretty cool, 
 coming from one who not a great while before 
 had admitted before a coroner's jury that he had 
 himself jumped on Nugent, and been the cause 
 of his death. 
 
 To return to chasing in 1882. On March 13, 
 1882, we had our Champion Lodge Steeplechases, 
 then becoming a regular annual fixture in the 
 East Anglican sporting world. This year the 
 whole country side turned out to see the sport, 
 and Mai don was quite a howling wilderness. 
 Some thousands of spectators favoured us with 
 their presence, and the vehicles were most re- 
 markable for their variety. "Every sort of 
 vehicle," said a report, " that would run on 
 wheels was there, from the well-appointed 
 barouche and fast drag to the humble cart 
 drawn by the 'poor man's Arabian. 7 " The 
 course was almost the same as in the preceding 
 year, but the events limited to four. Mr. Bruen 
 on his two mounts, Bunny and Cronstadt, 
 and my brother and myself were fortunate enough 
 to share between us the spoils on this occasion. 
 The Hunt Cup produced the best race ; Jimmy, 
 ridden by my brother, beating Twelfth Cake, 
 the favourite, ridden by myself, by a head, after 
 a sharp set-to. 
 
148 MEMOIRS OF Silt CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 At Galley wood, a fortnight later, I won the 
 Baddow Steeplechase on Twelfth Cake, and recol- 
 lect that I beat Mr. Tippler's Lizabeth, which 
 was placed second, owing, to some extent at any 
 rate, to the kind coaching of the late Major 
 Bringhurst, who knew the course far better than 
 most of us. Bringhurst was a good sportsman in 
 very truth, and it is interesting to record the fact 
 that it was he who gave George Fordham his 
 first winning mount on Hampton, 1 a two-year- 
 old, in the Brighton Stakes, forty-four years ago. 
 I sent a picture of the jockey and the horse to 
 the Duke of Beaufort, who was naturally much 
 interested in all relating to Fordham, and it is 
 hung in the smoking-room at Badminton. 
 
 A lesser event was a match between Wild 
 Georgie and Jimmy, a horse belonging to, and 
 ridden by, my brother. They laid 2 to 1 on my 
 mount, and two hundred yards or so from home 
 Jimmy was done for, and I was suffered to win 
 anyhow. Twelfth Cake came out again in a 
 hurdle race the same day, but was well beaten 
 by Mr. J. Goodwin's Gold Finder. 
 
 The hardest race I ever rode in and won, was 
 over this course at Galleywood. Part of the 
 
 1 Bringhurst may have been part owner, but Hampton 
 ran in the late Captain Christie's colours (all white). B. 
 
MAJOR BEINGHUEST HO 
 
 course was across a field which had been very 
 recently ploughed up by the Derby Digger. It 
 was so heavy that we all had to slack into a slow 
 trot, and when the horses did get on to turf 
 again they were one and all utterly done. I had 
 never dreamt of such heavy going as that in all 
 my steeplechasing philosophy, and hope never 
 to experience anything like it again. The ordi- 
 nary ploughed field was nothing compared to it. 
 . A note concerning the late Major Bringhurst. 
 Though essentially regarded as an Essex sports- 
 man, his residence being near Chelmsford, where 
 he passed away at the age of seventy-three, 
 the Major graduated in horse-training and racing 
 at Brighton. After retiring from the 90th 
 Foot, with whom he had served in South Africa 
 and India, he settled clown in Sussex, and 
 devoted his attention to thoroughbreds. Then 
 later he migrated to us in Essex, where he 
 speedily became a general favourite. After 
 a while he came to be regarded as quite the 
 Nestor of horse-racing in East Anglia, and was 
 in great demand as steward at Essex meetings, 
 as also at others outside the county. He stuck 
 to the saddle as a fox-hunter till late in life. 
 There were other things besides horse-racing and 
 training at which the Major was an expert. He 
 
150 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 was particularly clever as a turner and carver, 
 and in many Essex houses are treasured up as 
 mementoes little specimens of his handiwork. 
 
 At Harlow, on April 12, 1882, I could only 
 manage second honours in the Open Steeple- 
 chase, but did better at the Suffolk Yeomanry 
 Cavalry, on May 13, in the last races I was 
 destined to ride that year owing to the ballooning 
 accident at Maldon. Twelfth Cake carried me 
 to victory in the Hunt Cup, in which Mr. 
 Rodwell's Cronstadt, ridden by Mr. Bruen, was 
 second, whilst on the same mount I was second 
 in another event the open race. Lyndon, 
 however, was disqualified, so I secured this race 
 also. 
 
 Though fully recovered, save for a limp, from 
 the injuries sustained in the ballooning mishap 
 in June 1882, recorded elsewhere, I was not 
 sorry of an opportunity of a complete change of 
 air, scenery, and sport, which a shooting and 
 yachting expedition to the Mediterranean offered. 
 Early in November I started for Corfu, to join 
 Joe Bagot of the 60th, my frequent sniping com- 
 panion in India days, and Lord Churston. They 
 had gone out to the scene of action by P. and 0., 
 having made arrangements to meet their yacht 
 on the other side of the Bay. Our prime object 
 
SHOOTING EXPEDITION TO EUROPE 151 
 
 was the shooting of woodcock and pig in Albania. 
 The cock shooting in this part of the world is 
 some of the best in Europe, but we knew before- 
 hand that it varied very much from year to year. 
 One season you may bag sixty, seventy, or even 
 a hundred couple of cock a day ; while the next, 
 perhaps not more than fifteen couple may be 
 killed. The latter bag, however, is, or was a 
 dozen years ago, decidedly, I should say, below 
 the average. 
 
 Bagot, who is great in the practical art of 
 equipment and outfit for sportsmen, recommends 
 for sport in Albania and adjacent lands one or 
 two guns and a good service revolver. A rifle 
 he is inclined to regard as a superfluous weapon, 
 because for pig or deer an ordinary smooth-bore 
 No. 12 is usually more effective than the 
 best Express bullet manufactured. As a proof 
 of this he gives an instance of where he once 
 put two bullets from an Express rifle through 
 a boar at about twenty yards 7 distance, the only 
 apparent result being an acceleration of the 
 brute's pace. A little later the boar fell to a 
 shot from a 12-bore handled by a member of 
 the party, and when examined, it turned out 
 that both Express bullets had passed clean 
 through without touching any vital part. The 
 
152 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 ammunition difficulty, as I found during the 
 present year when on a shooting expedition in 
 Spain, is not very easy of solution. Cartridges 
 and powder should be sent out in the yacht, 
 as there are great difficulties experienced in 
 getting them through the continent. Three or 
 four thousand cartridges, with a supply of bullets, 
 slugs, etc., should suffice for a shoot of a few 
 weeks' duration. Stout clothes are needed, as 
 the cover in Albania is of a very thorny 
 character. Some strongly advocate taking out 
 English dogs, 1 either cockers or spaniels, but it is 
 a moot point whether it is not better to leave 
 the native beaters to provide them. A beater is 
 paid from 12 to 14 a month, and for this he 
 is expected to supply dogs both for cock and pig 
 shooting. A small medicine chest may be 
 useful, and a supply of quinine. 
 
 Our yacht, the JEva, which Bagot found for 
 the trip, was 130 tons, with a crew of eight, 
 besides two stewards and a cook. Bagot was 
 rather afraid that my game leg might seriously 
 hamper my movements over the rough ground 
 we were about to shoot, but when I reached 
 Corfu, where I had agreed to meet him, I scouted 
 
 1 Good retrievers are invaluable in Albania, where I 
 was one of a party that had great sport in 1843. B. 
 
SPORT IN THE EAST 153 
 
 such an idea. Our first beats were at Butrinto 
 and Vrarna, and* resulted in moderate bags of 
 cock, widgeon, and snipe, with an odd quail or 
 two. It was very pretty mixed shooting, with 
 plenty of diversity and incident. 
 
 One incident in which Churston played a 
 prominent part afforded us much amusement, 
 though it might have had a serious ending. A 
 shot from the top of a green ivy-covered bush 
 attracted the attention of Bagot. He repaired 
 to the spot to find Churston perched in 
 the bush, and surrounded by a pack of savage 
 Albanian dogs. 1 They were speedily driven 
 off, and then Churston told how he had been 
 suddenly, and for no earthly reason, attacked 
 by one dog which he managed to beat off. It 
 retired only to bring up a strong reinforce- 
 ment. Churston was then pressed so hard 
 that he was compelled to back to the nearest 
 tree, keeping the furious brutes off as well as 
 he could with the muzzle of his gun. When 
 
 1 No Albanian dog will touch you if you sit down on the 
 ground. It requires nerve to do it. In 1843 an Elliot 
 (a son of Lord Minto's) shot a dog : he was called Skettee 
 (modern Greek for dog) ever after. A party of five of the 
 1st Batt. Rifle Brigade including a cousin of Stirling Craw- 
 f urd's, Captain Edward Somerset, Lieutenant Gibson (killed 
 in Kaffir War, about 1849), and Elliot had to retire like 
 skirmishers to their boat, in two lines, close to Butrinto. B. 
 
154 MEMO IPS OF STB CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 ho reached the tree he returned the onslaught 
 with interest, and then made a dash up into 
 the lowest branch, one dog actually taking a 
 piece out of his coat as he whisked out of reach. 
 These Albanian dogs are of a most vicious breed, 
 but their masters set great store by them, and 
 have no scruple about kniving any stranger who 
 kills one. 
 
 Water-fowl shooting we found an interesting 
 form of sport at Butrinto, our first bag con- 
 sisting of twenty-two ducks, besides teal and 
 divers, with a few snipe. At Pagania we had 
 our first boar drive. Nine or ten Albanians, 
 all armed to the teeth as though they were 
 going into battle, were employed as beaters, 
 and these men brought a dog or so a-piece. 
 The head beater decided on the place of action, 
 and stationed us at various points. Then all 
 being ready, at a given signal the drive com- 
 menced, and wild shouts, varied by the occasional 
 discharge of a pistol, marked the progress of the 
 beaters. Suddenly the dogs would give tongue, 
 the beaters raise a greater uproar than ever, and 
 one or perhaps several black objects dart through 
 the underwood at such a rate as to be scarcely 
 distinguishable. A boar will carry a good deal 
 of lead, and two or three shots would be 
 
WILD BOAR 155 
 
 .sometimes needed to bring one to book. It 
 is a stirring siglit to see the wounded animal 
 dart out of its retreat with great flakes of 
 foam flying from its tusks, and its eyes 
 gleaming like fire-balls. Unless speedily found 
 by the gunners, a wounded one will attract a 
 crowd of hungry vultures and jackals. A few 
 days after our first hunt, the head beater dis- 
 covered a couple of tusks, which were about 
 all that remained of a pig we had hit several 
 times, but had not successfully followed up. 
 
 Nor was the sport confined to the game 
 already mentioned. Besides boar, cock, snipe, 
 and water-fowl, one of the party went eagle- 
 shooting with success. Near Dragomastre there 
 was some very pretty shooting at pigeons. At 
 a cave we waited for the birds to come in after 
 feeding. In point of numbers our sport was 
 very far behind that once enjoyed by Lord 
 Londesborough on the Nile, when he killed 
 hundreds of birds with his ordinary 12-bore 
 in a single day ; but none the less it was 
 excellent fun bringing down these wild blue 
 rock, which were as quick as lightning. The 
 country, by the way, in this district was, and very 
 likely is now, rather barbarous, the populace 
 being of a distinctly cut-throat disposition, and 
 
156 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRE8PIGNY 
 
 by no means above a little brigandage on 
 occasions. It is advisable to go about well 
 armed, and if possible in a party. 
 
 The first chases in which I engaged after 
 returning from this shooting expedition in the 
 East, were at Chelmsford on April 5, 1883. I 
 won the Steeplechase Plate that day, beating 
 Chance P. Tippler up my mount being Twelfth 
 Cake, whom shortly before the race I had 
 made a present of to my brother. I also was 
 victorious in the Military Steeplechase on 
 Pictus, a horse belonging to Percy Coke of the 
 15th. Bohemia, ridden by the owner, George 
 Hayhurst, was second ; and Mr. Chaston's Wild 
 Irishman, ridden by Mr. Beever, third in this 
 race. 
 
 As a rule when your horse makes a mistake 
 in steeplechasing it is all over so far as that par- 
 ticular race is concerned, unless your opponents 
 also blunder. This fact has been borne in upon 
 me again and again in the course of my quarter 
 of a century's experience of racing. But ex- 
 ceptions there are now and then that prove the 
 rule. This race at Chelmsford was one of these, 
 for Pictus came down as we were jumping in 
 and out of the course. I was just picking 
 myself up when another horse jumped right into 
 
A WIN AFTER A FALL 157 
 
 my saddle, and struck me clear of my horse, at 
 the same time coming down itself. Whereupon 
 my horse trotted away down the course. I gave 
 chase, caught him up, remounted, and went in 
 pursuit of the other horses that had passed us. 
 I came up with them in a few hundred yards, 
 and just beating Bohemia, who was trained 
 in the same stable as Pictus, won the race. 
 That was a field-day, by the bye, for our stable, 
 which was in the hands of Jack Jones. Between 
 us we managed to win four out of five races, not 
 entering in the fifth. I won two, "Billy" 
 Morris a third, and George Hayhurst of the 
 Fusiliers the fourth. 
 
 The owner of Pictus was so pleased at the 
 result of this race, that he presented me with a 
 pair of silver candlesticks, which recall not the 
 least pleasant memories amongst my various 
 sporting trophies. 
 
 Percy Coke is a rare driver, and when put 
 on his mettle pretty reckless of consequences. 
 I hope he will not be offended if I illustrate this 
 by a story which certainly does him no dis- 
 credit. Driving to Aldershot station, he found 
 the road, which was being repaired, blocked by 
 a pole stretched across it. He asked a navvy, 
 who was on guard, to remove the impediment 
 
158 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 to allow of his getting to the station. The man 
 flatly refused. Percy therefore, remarking that 
 his horse was "good at timber," drove him at 
 it. There was an upset, followed by a general 
 set-to, as this headlong intrusion was resented 
 by the road -menders. The navvy went for 
 Percy : Percy gave him a coup de pied, as 
 he stooped to pick up a brickbat, which 
 sent him flying head foremost into his own 
 heap of mortar. Another time he was driving 
 to the same station after some steeplechases. 
 As we whirled round a corner, more on one 
 wheel than two, we passed Billy Morris. His 
 face was a treat ; " poor Claude ! " it seemed 
 to say, " he's survived the steeplechases, only 
 to be killed by Percy Coke's mad driving." 
 
 Twelfth Cake continued to flourish after 
 passing out of my hands, and won the Aldershot 
 Cup with my brother up a week after the 
 Chelmsford Chases. My new love was 
 Shepardess, a mare my brother and I pur- 
 chased from Jones. Shepardess began pretty 
 well, winning for me Brassey's Cup at Sevenoaks 
 in May 1883, when she started 7 to 4 on, and 
 won by twenty lengths. My chief opponents 
 were so dead beat on this occasion, the going 
 being heavy, that both horse and rider appeared 
 
SHEPAlWJMti WINS BJtA&iEFi* CUP 159 
 
 to run their heads clean into a clover rick just 
 off the course. 
 
 In the summer of this year I rode on the 
 flat at the Bibury meeting, Shepardess being 
 matched against Morning Star, the property 
 of Fred Beauclerk. I walked over, and this 
 was the only win if it can be so called that 
 the mare scored after Brassey's Cup. She was 
 a roarer, and turned out quite a failure, never 
 doing anything afterwards. 
 
 "Give a dog a bad name and hang him." 
 The downward grade, swift and sure, of the late 
 Marquess of Ailesbury, afforded, I think, an 
 excellent object lesson in the truth of this old 
 saw. Ailesbury, as a matter of fact, never had 
 a chance of retrieving himself. He began to 
 go wrong, and at once everybody's voice was 
 raised against him. Yet to start with he was 
 an excellent good fellow, and a thorough 
 gentleman. Knowing this full well, I ventured 
 to make a stand for him when he was going 
 downhill so awfully quick. I worked hard to 
 get him elected a member of the Bibury Club, 
 and elected he actually was. Unfortunately it 
 came too late. He had sunk too deep in the 
 slough of evil companionship, and nothing could 
 save him. The public have never seen any 
 
160 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 save the dark side of Ailesbury, and they 
 formed their estimate of him on that alone. 
 But there was plenty of good in the fellow at 
 one time, and I shall always believe that the 
 hue and cry were responsible for his ultimate 
 utter degradation. It is only fair to say that 
 what influence his wife had over him when he 
 began going altogether wrong was salutary. 
 A few words from her could, and often did, stop 
 a volley of oaths. 
 
 No doubt the Jockey Club knew what they 
 were doing when they warned Ailesbury off, 
 and had more evidence against his past career 
 on the turf than was actually divulged. But I 
 must say that he was overtly condemned for 
 directions which are, as a matter of fact, used 
 again and again by owners to jockeys without 
 getting them into trouble. " Cut it fine " is 
 often the injunction given to a perfectly straight 
 jockey by an equally straight owner. It has 
 been given to me on at least one occasion 
 when I have been riding for another man. At 
 Galley wood I can recollect being asked by the 
 owner of the horse I was riding not to come 
 away till over the last fence. I carried the 
 injunction out faithfully, and won without 
 taking it too much out of my mount. It was 
 
A POSTCARD FROM GORDON 161 
 
 rather amusing to see the glowing accounts of 
 my horsemanship in the papers, which declared 
 that I just managed to win with fine 
 judgment, etc. 
 
 Sporran by Grouse, out of a half-bred mare, 
 proved at least a better investment than the 
 jade Shepardess. The first race he won me 
 was the Steeplechase Plate at Chelmsford in 
 March 1884. I found I could not ride the 
 weight myself, so put up a gunner, who won the 
 race for me. 
 
 The Champion Lodge Steeplechases were 
 on April 1 this year. We had as usual a 
 goodly concourse of Essex folk, with more 
 than a sprinkling of people from beyond our 
 own neighbourhood. Sir Charles Staveley was 
 amongst our guests. His relations with Gordon 
 are familiar to many people, and it may be 
 worth noticing that one of the very last commu- 
 nications through the post ever received by an 
 Englishman from the General in beleaguered 
 Khartoum, came into the hands of Sir Charles on 
 the Champion Lodge Course during the annual 
 steeplechases. It came in the shape of a post- 
 card, and caused a considerable sensation, every- 
 body's mind at the time being full of Gordon. 
 
 The Stewards included the Duke of Hamilton, 
 
162 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESP1GNY 
 
 the Marquess of Queensberry, and Colonel Byrne ; 
 Charley Page Wood acted as both starter and 
 clerk of the scales ; whilst Holroyd was judge. 
 As usual we had glorious weather our steeple- 
 chases have always been most fortunate in this 
 respect and some fair sport. There were eight 
 events on the card, including a match between 
 Wild Georgie and Bizpah, which did not 
 however come off, as the latter went lame. 
 The first race was the Point to Point, over 
 which there were some brisk speculation, the 
 bookmaking fraternity being present in force. 
 Sporran, with myself up, started a pretty hot 
 favourite 6 to 4 on after his recent victory 
 at Chelmsford. It turned out anything but 
 a hollow thing, however, as Waggoner, the 
 third favourite, ridden by Mr. Fell owes, the 
 brother of the owner, Mrs. Coope, was beaten by 
 no more than a neck. The Coopes' stable was 
 more fortunate in the Hunt Cup and the Conso- 
 lation, both of which they secured, the first with 
 Pat, steered by Billy Morris, and the second 
 with Jack, steered by Mr. Bod well. 
 
 Lady de Crespigny's Zante started favourite 
 for the Ladies' Cup, but I did not succeed in 
 getting placed, the event falling to Mrs. Beid's 
 Lady Alice, ridden by Mr. Fellowes. Sporran 
 
RACE MEETING AT IPSWICR 163 
 
 had a walk over for the Loyal Suffolk Hussars' 
 Cup, and Mr. Rust's Architect won the Farmers' 
 Cup, starting second favourite. 
 
 April 3, 1884, Ipswich. Here I won the 
 Sudbourne Plate Hurdle Race on a recent 
 purchase of my brother's, Elmina. Jack Jones 
 was present, and there had been some talk as to 
 whether he or I should ride the mare. I gave 
 him his choice, acknowledging the superiority of 
 his horsemanship by pointing out that if he rode 
 she would start 2 to 1 on, and if I rode then the 
 odds would probably be 3 to 1 against. This 
 reasoning appeared to Jones to be sound, and 
 he voted in favour of my having the mount. 
 The only dangerous horse came to grief at the 
 first flight of hurdles, and after that there was 
 not much doubt, in my own mind at any rate, as 
 to the result, though there appeared to have been 
 some in others. The mare won easily enough. 
 
 Possibly had it not been for a mistake made 
 by Grayson, who was killed only quite recently, 
 in this race Elmina might have been pressed 
 a little bit more, though I do not think, bar 
 accidents, she could have lost. At the last 
 flight Grayson rode at the outside hurdle, and 
 was carried over the rope. Personally, I have 
 always made a rule on Ipswich racecourse, when 
 
164 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 there were no wings at the hurdles, of riding at 
 about the centre hurdle. 
 
 A change of scene next found me on April 1, 
 1884, at the Vale of White Horse Steeplechases, 
 where I could not do better than get third place 
 in the open chases on Mytton's Maid, who 
 was a bit thick in the wind. The following 
 month, however, I won on Captain Barkley's 
 Hurdy Gurdy in the Eegimental Races at 
 Ipswich, and so wound up the spring chasing 
 season of 1884 with a measure of success. 
 This race was on May 23, and on the following 
 day Simmons and myself made an ascent in the 
 " Colonel," and after a voyage of four hours 
 and seven minutes came down, not without a 
 narrow escape, between St. Ives and Huntingdon. 
 Thus I made three eventful balloon voyages in 
 three successive years, 1882, 1883, and 1884. 
 Perhaps I may boast of having achieved a 
 world's record in winning a race and making a 
 balloon ascent well within the space of twenty- 
 four hours. 
 
 Though attending at Stockbridge in the summer 
 of 1884, I did not ride on the flat, but contented 
 myself with being a spectator of the sport, and 
 in taking part in the Bibury Ballot. The next 
 entry in my diary is as follows : " Wye. Won 
 
STEEPLECHASINCr AND BALLOONING 165 
 
 Selling Hurdle Kace on Baron Hill : to London 
 for Balloon Centenary afterwards." This Baron 
 Hill was bred by Sir Kichard Bulkeley at Baron 
 Hill. He was an own brother of the mare 
 Elmina. Jones and I differed a good deal in 
 relation to this horse, I believing him to be 
 honest, and Jones being equally positive that he 
 was a rogue. I took him as I found him, and 
 with me the horse always behaved well enough. 
 However, nothing would dissuade Jones, who still 
 viewed Baron Hill with disapproval after he had 
 been entered in this Wye Selling Kace and had 
 won it. A short time before Jones had ridden 
 him at Chandler's Ford, a course near Winchester 
 and just outside Cranberry Park, which has since 
 been abolished. I gave him ten sovereigns to 
 put on the horse, but saw none of it back, as he 
 got badly beaten. After the Wye race Baron 
 Hill passed into the hands of Arthur Yates, and, 
 beyond winning one small race for him, seems 
 to have done very little good. Curiously enough, 
 a brother officer was riding to hounds somewhere 
 in the Midlands on a horse lent, I suppose, by a 
 friend. It behaved anything save well, and the 
 thought suddenly flashed across him, " Why 
 this must be Baron Hill ! " When he looked 
 into the matter, he felt convinced that he had 
 
166 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 stumbled on the truth, and told me so the next 
 time we met. He had known the animal in its 
 chasing career, and when it belonged to me. 
 
 As mentioned in an earlier chapter, I usually 
 make a rule, like many other jockeys, of critically 
 examining a course before riding. But on this 
 occasion at Wye I had not time to do so. I 
 therefore followed in the wake of Sensier the 
 first time round, when his horse broke down. 
 By that time I had learnt all I need know about 
 the course, and was enabled to win my race. 
 
 I repaired to this Wye meeting with Arthur 
 Yates, who was running a horse there in the 
 first race against mine, and rather fancied him 
 too. The trains, we found, ran so unkindly that 
 I deemed it to be practically impossible for me 
 to be in time to ride Baron Hill myself, and 
 therefore wired to Billy Morris, asking him to do 
 so. But there were professional jockeys riding 
 in the race, and had Morris complied with my 
 request, he would have lost his weight allowance 
 in Irish steeplechases. As a matter of fact, 
 though it was a great rush, I did arrive on the 
 course at Wye just in the nick of time to ride. 
 Jack Jones, hearing of the incident afterwards, 
 remarked that I was luckier than he and his 
 friends were on one occasion, when, having 
 
ASSAULTED AT WYE 167 
 
 missed the train, they had a special, put three 
 hundred on their horse, and got beaten a head. 
 
 At Wye once I recollect being assaulted in 
 rather a curious way, though perfectly un- 
 conscious of having injured or offended anybody. 
 As the crowd rushed over the course at the end 
 of a race, a fellow struck my horse with con- 
 siderable force ; I charged right into the crowd 
 after him, and in so doing got a tremendous cut 
 across the thigh from another man, probably his 
 pal. I suppose they were wild at my not having 
 won the race in which they may have backed me. 
 
 A first-class rider, and the straightest of 
 jockeys, was poor Sensier, whose death in harness 
 we were all deploring a year ago. On a good 
 horse he had scarcely a superior in the steeple- 
 chasing world, though on a bad one there were 
 one or two rivals, notably Dollery, who were 
 generally admitted to be stronger. 
 
 An item concerning Yates : Once at a meet- 
 ing at Somerleyton, Sir Savile Crossley's place near 
 Lowes toft, I did not miss a single race. I rode 
 eight out of eight, winning two and being placed 
 second in several others. This record pales, 
 as probably do all others, before that of Arthur 
 Yates, who once at Kingsbury rode seven races 
 in the day and won them all! 
 
CHAPTEE V 
 
 "IN THE CENTRAL BLUE" 
 
 A fascinating pursuit Balloons in the Franco-Prussian 
 War Burnaby's Crystal Palace ascent The anti- 
 balloonists The spirit of adventure The delights of 
 aerial travelling The tranquillity of the heavens 
 Sublime scenery Over London by night General 
 Brine and Simmons fail Burnaby's theory Simmons 
 and I prepare to make an ascent A terrible blunder 
 The Maldon accident Simmons starts alone His 
 trans-Channel trip What the Press said of the 
 accident The Powell disaster The Coxwell disaster 
 The value of ballooning A kind message Quick 
 balloon travelling I resolve to try the Channel 
 again Simmons brings the " Colonel " to Maldon 
 A bad outlook " Will you go or not 1 " A majestic 
 ascent A glorious " Kathorama " Hushing into a 
 dense mist Some beautiful effects What Flammarion 
 once saw Mirages of the air A wild rush heaven- 
 wards Over the land once more Just escape the 
 top of a cottage An enthusiastic crowd The only 
 jarring note Burnaby's trip across the Channel A 
 nice kind of send off A rapid descent At a dead 
 standstill The "Mad Englishman's" method A 
 demonstrative old lady Quite a ballooning district 
 The tragic end of Simmons An ascent from Bury St. 
 Edmunds A narrow escape in the air Blanchard's 
 168 
 
A FASCINATING PURSUIT 169 
 
 feat Alighting on a blazing chimney A really 
 dreadful position Burnaby's unachieved ambition 
 Messrs. Coxwell and Glaisher in trouble An adven- 
 ture of Simmons's People who would go a-ballooning 
 Ballooning over Epsom Dale His fatal accident 
 The romantic side of ballooning M. L'Hoste 
 Caught in a storm and lost Some notable trips The 
 risks of ballooning Military balloons Aeronautic 
 dreamers "Le Torpilleur " The virtues of cold tea 
 A humorous ballooning incident. 
 
 IT was not until the year 1882, some time after 
 I had finally settled down in my Essex home, 
 that I first began to seriously turn my atten- 
 tion to ballooning, and resolved to engage 
 in this most fascinating and exciting pursuit. 
 I had seen, however, something of ballooning 
 many years before, during the Franco-Prussian 
 War, when, as I have already stated, we used 
 to ride after, and shoot at, the bold aeronauts 
 who ascended from Paris during the siege. 
 
 Altogether sixty-six of these balloons were 
 sent up from Paris, and they held 168 persons. 
 Fifty-two fell in France, five in Belgium, four 
 in Holland, two in Prussia, whilst two came 
 clown into the sea. The number which fell 
 into the hands of the Prussians was eighteen, 
 some of which were more or less riddled by 
 our bullets. Gambetta, it may be recollected, 
 ventured to ascend from Paris in one of these 
 
170 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 balloons, and, for what I know, he may have 
 been shot at. One balloon, named " Ville 
 d'Orleans," actually crossed the water safely, 
 and came down on November 25, 1870, in 
 Norway. The aeronaut in this case was a 
 Monsieur Eollin. He made his descent close to 
 Christiania, after having travelled no less than 
 750 leagues a remarkable voyage, which he 
 accomplished in rather less than fifteen hours. 
 The remains of a balloon were, a long while 
 after the last of these ascents, discovered in 
 Iceland. It was supposed that it had come 
 thither from Paris. The balloons sent up by 
 the besieged Parisians contained upwards of 
 ten and a half million letters, etc., some of 
 which were duly answered by the aid of carrier 
 pigeons. 
 
 Colonel Burnaby had more than once dilated 
 to me on the pleasures to be derived from 
 ballooning, and this, combined with what I saw 
 during the siege of Paris, had much to do with 
 my resolve to become an aeronaut. Burnaby, 
 like most other aeronauts, has been often accused 
 of recklessness and utter disregard of danger, but 
 it cannot be denied that he applied himself to 
 the scientific side of ballooning. It is rather more 
 than twenty years since he made a notable ascent 
 
CRYSTAL PALACE ASCENT 171 
 
 in the company of an enthusiastic fellow-officer 
 in the Guards, from the Crystal Palace. Burnaby 
 on that occasion tried a machine which he had 
 himself devised with the idea of ascertaining 
 the course of the wind above the clouds, when 
 the earth was concealed. I cannot say that 
 the machine was ever used to my knowledge 
 by such skilled aeronauts as Dale and Simmons, 
 but the trial in question was described at the 
 time as a decidedly satisfactory one. 
 
 So great is the dread entertained by many 
 people of exposing themselves to the slightest 
 danger of accident though the same persons 
 often think nothing of leading the most unhealthy 
 lives, of destroying the digestion, and shattering 
 the whole nervous system by almost every 
 means in their power that it is easy to under- 
 stand the abhorrence and even contempt with 
 which ballooning is regarded in some quarters. 
 
 Every person who ventures off the solid earth 
 must be prepared to hear of himself being 
 described as a madman. In the same way the 
 boldest mountaineers lay themselves open to the 
 charge of being crazy, and Arctic explorers are 
 often placed in the same category. Of old we 
 were accustomed to regard the pleasures and perils 
 of exploration on land and sea, as well as in the 
 
172 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 sky, in a very different spirit. It is not too much 
 to say, that many of the greatest discoveries of 
 modern times, which have increased the resources 
 and the wealth of mankind, would not have been 
 made, except for a dauntless spirit of adventure. 
 Had Columbus entertained the exaggerated 
 dread of exposing himself to unknown danger, 
 which is too noticeable a feature of to-day, he 
 would not have paved the way for the opening up 
 of continents. It can certainly not be said that he 
 undertook the discovery of the New World from 
 commercial objects or for purely scientific 
 purposes. The spirit of adventure and of daring 
 and suffering all things moved him, as, according 
 to the delightful old Greek tradition, it moved 
 Ulysses, even in his extreme old age, to leave 
 sceptre and isle, and " sail beyond the sunset " in 
 search of a newer world. 
 
 It is possible, however, that if some of the 
 least adventurous people could only realize the 
 unspeakable splendour which so swiftly opens 
 out to the gaze of the aerial traveller, they would 
 admit that ballooning has great and natural 
 attractions. The sensations the aeronaut ex- 
 periences in the ascent, and during his voyage 
 through the skies, are pleasurable beyond descrip- 
 tion. The motion of the balloon is perfectly 
 
DELIGHTS OF AtitilAL TRAVELLING 173 
 
 smooth and easy, no matter how quickly the 
 wind is travelling, which is to be accounted for 
 by the fact that the balloon goes with the wind. 
 There is not the slightest resistance to the 
 air, and consequently no disagreeable motion. 
 On the perfect tranquillity that prevails in the 
 heavens I have dwelt elsewhere. In the descent 
 a jarring is sometimes experienced, and of course 
 both before the balloon has got fairly away from 
 the earth, and also after it has in coming down 
 been impeded by the grapnel or by unwel- 
 come obstacles, sensations may be experienced 
 the reverse of agreeable. Indeed the great 
 majority of the accidents occur in the ascent 
 and descent. 
 
 So remarkable is this tranquil and easy 
 motion through the air, that the aeronaut is 
 
 o * 
 
 scarcely aware of the rate at which he is travel- 
 ling. Mr. Green, the well-known balloonist, 
 was once carried away at lightning speed by 
 a furious whirlwind, and yet knew nothing 
 about it. He was even unaware that he was 
 moving at exceptional speed ! Not till he ap- 
 proached the earth, and marked there the fury 
 of the wind which threatened to tear the grapnel 
 from its hold, did he realize the situation. 
 
 As to the scenery which the aeronaut enjoys, 
 
174 MEMOIRS Off SIR CLAUDE DE GRESP1GNY 
 
 it is often beautiful beyond compare. The rising 
 and the setting sun as seen by the balloonist 
 are more brilliant and thousand-hued than even 
 the mind of Turner conceived. Mr. Glaisher 
 saw both spectacles. He witnessed the sun 
 rising on an autumnal morning. Ascending 
 slowly above the clouds, the aeronaut saw the 
 sun rise, flooding with light the whole extent 
 of cloudland beyond, which glistened under its 
 beams like a lake of pure gold. " Grouped 
 around the car," he said, " both above and below, 
 there were clouds of alpine character sloping 
 to their bases in glistening light, or towering 
 upwards in sheets of shining vapour, which, 
 added the charm of contrast to the splendid 
 tints of sunrise." Then suddenly the clouds 
 spread round ocean-like, and continually chang- 
 ing their forms, " suddenly gathered themselves 
 into mountain heaps and closed all around, 
 hiding the sun in neutral-tinted gloom." Quite 
 as dazzling in its splendour was a sunset once 
 seen by Tissandier when ballooning over France ; 
 but perhaps Mr. Glaisher was most fortunate 
 of all aerial voyagers, when he once viewed 
 London at night. The air was perfectly clear, 
 and the great city, with its millions of lights, 
 Looked a very Milky Way of the earth. So free 
 
DRIFTING OUT TO StiA 17:> 
 
 from mist and fog was the atmosphere, that 
 he was able to "distinctly see persons moving 
 along Oxford Street, with their very shadows 
 cast upon the pavements. 
 
 General Brine's unsuccessful attempt to reach 
 the French coast in 1882, and Burnaby's suc- 
 cessful one in March of the same year, made 
 me impatient to cross the water myself, either 
 the Channel or the North Sea. Brine in 
 the company of Simmons made an ascent from 
 Canterbury early in 1882, with the object of 
 crossing over to the French coast, but owing 
 to a sudden and quite unlooked-for change in 
 the wind a danger which the aeronaut of 
 course cannot guard against drifted out to 
 the North Sea. The aeronauts therefore had 
 to take to the water, where fortunately they 
 were picked up by the Foam. 
 
 Burnaby cherished the belief that under 
 certain conditions the aeronaut might be able 
 to overcome a difficulty such as Brine and 
 Simmons experienced when the wind suddenly 
 began to change and blow them out toward 
 the German Ocean. He said he believed that 
 when the wind was blowing in one direction 
 at a certain height in the atmosphere, it would 
 very likely be blowing in a directly contrary 
 
176 MEMOIRS OF Sill CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 direction at another one. Thus, liis idea was, 
 that the aeronaut might in many cases, finding 
 the wind against him, ascend to a much greater 
 height, and try his luck there. Unfortunately 
 this cannot always be done with safety, as 
 Messrs. Cox well and Glaisher found out. It 
 would be a rash experiment to make when 
 placed as Brine and Simmons were, for suppos- 
 ing they had ascended to a great height, and 
 still found the wind in the same direction, the 
 delay of a few minutes might have cost both 
 of them their lives. 
 
 Early in June 1882 my own arrangements 
 were complete for a trip across the water. 
 Simmons, the brave and skilful aeronaut, with 
 whom I made all my later ascents, arrived at 
 Maldon on June 10th, 1882, with his balloon, 
 and next day the process of inflation was com- 
 menced. My sister Agnes, not to be deterred 
 by the experiences of Madame Durouf, 1 fully 
 intended to accompany us, but Simmons decided 
 that it would be advisable to take as much 
 ballast as possible, and our plan had accord- 
 ingly to be modified in this respect. As the 
 morning wore on Simmons began to entertain 
 serious doubts as to quite a different matter. 
 1 See Appendix, p. 371. 
 
A TERRIBLE BLUNDER 177 
 
 The wind, though in the right direction, blowing 
 towards Calais, was very boisterous, and under 
 these circumstances the aeronaut thought it his 
 duty to warn me through Mr. Waller, who was 
 managing the preparations, against making the 
 ascent at all. I could not think, however, of 
 putting off the expedition, and resolved, come 
 what might, to brave the breeze. So between 
 twelve and one o'clock, in the presence of a 
 great concourse of people, including Lady de 
 Crespigny and several members of my family, 
 we got into the car, and at once attempted 
 the ascent. Everything would have no doubt 
 gone off right enough had the men who were 
 holding down the balloon released her at the 
 right moment, just when Simmons gave the 
 order. They delayed ; and as a consequence 
 the car was dragged across the field, and 
 dashed with great violence against a brick 
 wall. 
 
 All this occurred in considerably less time 
 than it takes to write it. Directly I perceived 
 that a dangerous collision was inevitable, unless 
 it could be averted by a great effort of strength 
 at the critical moment, I took up as firm a 
 position as possible, and sitting on the side of 
 the car endeavoured with my left leg to push 
 
178 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 off from the wall. The task was probably 
 beyond human strength, and, as it was, my leg 
 was crushed between the car and the balloon. 
 Curiously enough, I was not fully conscious of 
 the injury I had sustained till I felt the bones 
 grating, and glancing down, saw that my foot 
 was at right angles to its natural position. A 
 friend was standing close by amongst the specta- 
 tors, and I remarked to him " My leg's broken." 
 He leant over the side of the balloon, and took 
 hold of the right leg. I said, " No, not the right, 
 the left one." There now seemed to be every 
 prospect of the balloon getting away, and I 
 did not like the idea of a trip across the Channel 
 with a broken leg. To say nothing of the dis- 
 comfort of a journey under such circumstances, 
 there would probably be danger in the descent, 
 which often entails a good deal of jarring. I 
 therefore managed to raise myself by means of 
 the ropes on to the side of the car, and was 
 then assisted out backwards. An examination 
 showed that my leg was broken in two places 
 just above the ankle, and that the fracture was 
 of the compound order. 
 
 Unfortunately I was not the only person who 
 was injured by the mishap. There were several 
 men clinging to the car at the time it dragged 
 
THE MALDON ACCIDENT 179 
 
 across the field, and one man was crushed as by 
 the wheels of Juggernaut against the wall. Two 
 of his ribs were broken, and he was in a very 
 bad way until attended to by Dr. Gutteridge, 
 who also treated me very skilfully. One or two 
 other persons were slightly damaged, nor did 
 Simmons himself escape scot free. His arm 
 was hurt, and, to use his own words, his side 
 "seemed to be caved in." Apparently not 
 recognizing exactly what had happened to me 
 in the confusion and excitement which took 
 place when the car struck against the wall, 
 Simmons called out, "Tell Sir Claude to get 
 in." Learning what had happened, he none 
 the less resolved, and in my opinion rightly 
 so, to make the ascent alone. My sudden 
 removal from the car had left him in a some- 
 what awkward position. But he managed to 
 replace my weight with some ballast at hand, 
 and then in a lull effected a capital ascent. 
 I was lying down in the field with my head 
 propped up, and with great interest, and greater 
 disappointment at my own inability to take 
 part in the voyage, saw him dart up into 
 the sky. 
 
 From the short account which Simmons 
 supplied of his trans-Channel trip, it seems that 
 
180 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 his chief difficulty was to keep sufficiently high 
 to clear all impediments, and yet be able to 
 see where he was going. The clouds were 
 exceedingly low, so that it was not at all easy 
 to do this. He heard the sound of the breakers 
 soon after the start, the balloon travelled at 
 a tremendous pace, and this satisfied him that 
 the wind was a true one from the earth's surface 
 to a great altitude. Upon dipping below the 
 clouds he ventured down to have a look at 
 the sea. The sound of the breakers had then 
 ceased, but presently it was repeated. He could 
 just dimly perceive a sandy coast-line in front, 
 and concluded that he must be right for France. 
 Presently the balloon dipped again below the 
 clouds, and the aeronaut found that he was 
 over land. He guessed it to be Kent, and 
 in a few minutes more was able to distinguish 
 Deal, which lay a little to the east. It was 
 next to impossible to keep low enough to be 
 under the clouds, so as to see the coast-line 
 around, and at the same time be high enough 
 to be sure of getting a good sweep over it. 
 
 At 1.45 Simmons was right over the Calais- 
 Douvres steamer, and could see the passengers 
 waving excitedly to him, as people always will 
 to an aeronaut. Twelve minutes after passing 
 
A TUANS-CHANNEL TRIP 181 
 
 over the English chalk cliffs he was over the 
 French coast. He was then so near Calais as 
 to be able to distinguish all its streets and 
 public buildings. The water safely crossed, he 
 took off his cork jacket without which no 
 balloonist who knows his business makes an 
 ascent near the sea and meditated a trip inland. 
 But suddenly recollecting that my accident and 
 removal from the balloon had left him with 
 very scanty pecuniary resources, he decided 
 to come to anchor as soon as possible. He 
 looked out for a landing place, but for some 
 time could see no hedge or ditch on his track 
 suitable for the purpose. Nothing was passed 
 save fields divided by different crops of corn. 
 After Simmons had gone as he supposed about a 
 hundred miles into France a large city was 
 reached. The inhabitants rushed out into the 
 principal square to witness the strange sight. 
 Floating over them at a height of about six 
 hundred feet he asked in French, " What's the 
 name of this place ? " and the reply came 
 "Arras." A few miles outside the city he 
 descended, and after dragging a long distance 
 over some level ground, and damaging the crops, 
 he crippled the balloon, and managed to get 
 out of the car in safety. He had traversed one 
 
182 MEMOIRS OF tilll CLAUDE DE QRESPIGNY 
 
 hundred and seventy miles in slightly over an 
 hour and a half. 
 
 The incidents of this ascent supplied the 
 newspapers with some excellent " copy " at a 
 not over exciting period, and one or two of 
 them rather ungratefully, it has occurred to 
 me ! censured us severely for what they were 
 pleased to regard as our foolhardiness. The 
 fact is, there was a kind of anti-balloon scare 
 just about this time. To General Brine's mis- 
 adventure allusion has been made. Then some 
 years previously two French aeronauts had 
 perished in the higher atmospheric regions 
 whilst directing the balloon " Zenith." But 
 far fresher in the mind of the public than any 
 other aeronautic disaster was the fatal ascent 
 of Mr. Walter Powell at Bath. With regard 
 to this particular disaster, it has always seemed 
 to me that Mr. Powell and his two colleagues, 
 Major Templar who was afterwards in charge 
 of the ballooning in the war in Egypt and 
 Mr. Gardner, made mistakes of a kind which 
 the least experienced aeronaut ought to avoid. 
 It was said that they intended crossing the 
 water. If so it was little short of madness to 
 start as they did late in the afternoon, light, 
 as every one can understand, being a sine qua 
 
THE POWELL DISASTER 183 
 
 non to the safety of the balloonist. Then to 
 deliberately endeavour to leave the car as it 
 dragged along the ground, as was done in this 
 case, was to invite a catastrophe. It appears 
 that the aeronauts, finding themselves going out 
 to sea, resolved to leave the car, if needs be, 
 whilst the balloon was still in motion. 
 
 The balloon was accordingly brought to earth 
 close to Bridport. There was nothing to make 
 the grapnel fast to, so the balloon dragged or 
 skimmed along the ground. To leave the 
 balloon whilst it was so moving was something 
 like getting out of a train going at a good 
 pace. Mr. Gardner in leaping out fractured 
 his leg, but Major Templar with great good 
 fortune managed to reach the ground with- 
 out injuring himself. The balloon, relieved 
 of the weight of the two men, shot up again, 
 and Mr. Powell had not time to join his com- 
 panions. It passed over the cliffs and floated 
 away to sea. Mr. Powell when last seen by 
 his companions was clinging on outside the 
 car. In a minute or two he disappeared alto- 
 gether from view, and never more was seen 
 by mortal eye. His precise fate must therefore 
 remain for all time uncertain. What the party 
 clearly ought to have done when they found 
 
184 MEMOIRS OF Sill CLAUUE DE CHESPIGNY 
 
 themselves going over the cliffs was to come 
 down in the sea, and then with their cork jackets 
 on swim to shore. 
 
 The Maldon ascent ^ and accident were 
 "leadered" in most of the great dailies. The 
 Times had a long and on the whole as well- 
 informed an article as one expects from the 
 greatest newspaper in the world. But I took 
 leave to entirely disagree with its statement, 
 that the skilled aeronaut can hardly ever be 
 a scientific observer. The ascents which I have 
 made within the last twelve years or so have 
 led me to think that the science of ballooning 
 may be as yet quite in its infancy, and that the 
 aeronaut may in the future become indispensable 
 from a military point of view. The science of 
 ballooning, as the Times truly remarked in 
 its article, is passing slow, a hundred years of 
 experiment having led to little improvement 
 in contrivance. But it must be borne in mind 
 that the number of people who have concerned 
 themselves in practical aeronautics has been 
 very small. Moreover, ballooniog is unfortun- 
 ately a decidedly costly thing. I found thatj 
 the expense of my various trips, exclusive of 
 doctors' bills, averaged not much under fifty 
 pounds. 
 
VALUE OF BALLOONING 185 
 
 That a ruler with his eyes so wide open as 
 the German Emperor should have recently given 
 for scientific purposes a large sum sixty thou- 
 sand marks to the Berlin Aeronautic Society, 
 certainly does not point to the fact that 
 ballooning is regarded as useless. Doubtless 
 the Emperor acted upon the recommendations 
 of some of the leading German scientists in 
 making this gift a year or two ago. It 
 is worthy of remark too, that the Society 
 have expended a goodly part of the sixty 
 thousand marks on instruments for making 
 scientific observations from balloons. The re- 
 mainder has been spent, I believe, on construct- 
 ing a new balloon far bigger than any hitherto 
 manufactured. 
 
 The injury I sustained in the Maldon ascent 
 left me liors de combat for many a weary week. 
 From Saturday, June 10, to Saturday, July 29, 
 my diary is a dismal blank. On the latter day 
 I went down-stairs, and drove to Witham. Two 
 days afterwards I went up to town, visited the 
 theatre, and luxuriated in a Turkish bath. But 
 swift retribution followed this too swift return 
 to the joys of life. My bones had not perfectly 
 mended. In a few days I was down again, and 
 invalided till almost the middle of September. 
 
186 MEMOIRS OF Sill CLAUD fi I)E CRESPIGNY 
 
 The various accidents I have sustained chasing 
 and hunting, all combined perhaps, punished me 
 less severely than this balloon disaster. 
 
 With that happy knack, rare amongst princes 
 as amongst their subjects, of always doing and 
 saying the right thing at the right time, the 
 Prince of Wales sent me a kind little message 
 through my brother after this ballooning dis- 
 aster. "Tell your brother," he said, "that I 
 am very sorry to hear of his mishap ; but 
 also say that I cannot approve altogether 
 of his trying to make the ascent under the 
 circumstances." 
 
 Before concluding this account of the first 
 ascent from Maldon, I may note that the rate 
 at which Simmons crossed to France was, with 
 one exception, the fastest on aeronautic record. 
 That exception was Simmons's trip from Peek- 
 skill to Bedford in New York county, a distance 
 of twenty-five miles, which was accomplished at 
 a perfectly phenomenal rate. 1 
 
 By the time I had fully recovered from the 
 injury sustained in this first Maldon ascent, the 
 
 1 The late Mr. Mountain claimed the record for quick 
 balloon travelling, having, so he averred, covered three 
 hundred miles in four hours. He stated that proceeding 
 at that rate the motion was quite comfortable. But the 
 facts do not seem to be very well established. 
 
ANOTHEH CHANNEL TRIP 187 
 
 time of year was too far advanced to make, with 
 any great chance of success, another attempt 
 to cross the Channel. But in the following 
 year, and a little later on in the season, I had 
 again made arrangements for the trip. Indeed 
 long before my leg was mended, my resolution 
 to make another attempt had been come to. 
 When Mr. Wymper, roaming about by himself 
 one afternoon on the then unknown heights of 
 the Matterhorn, slipped, and falling several 
 hundred feet, met with an accident that all but 
 cost him his life, he yet resolved to be the first 
 to tread on the summit of the great mountain. 
 Nothing could move him from his purpose ; 
 nothing could move me from mine. The 
 Channel of course had already been crossed 
 in a balloon a fair number of times, whereas 
 Mr. Wymper was aiming at a record in 
 mountaineering. But as it happened, we too 
 were to establish a record in ballooning. 
 
 On Monday, July 30, 1883, Simmons, whom 
 I again chose for the trip, came to Maldon with 
 his balloon, and at once set about repairing some 
 damages which it had sustained at Brighton 
 a few weeks previously. Composed principally 
 of indiarubber and bird-lime a queer com- 
 bination this must seem to the non-aeronautic 
 
188 MEMOIRS OP SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 mind it was one of the strongest balloons 
 ever constructed. It was capable of holding 
 37,000 cubic feet of gas, exactly the same 
 quantity, by the way, as held by the balloon 
 in which Burnaby crossed the Channel, and 
 when inflated it was seventy-five feet in height 
 and forty-two in diameter. Directly I set eyes 
 on it I felt assured of success, and only longed 
 for an early start. 
 
 But that is exactly what we did not get. 
 There was much delay in inflating the balloon, 
 though the operation commenced so early as 
 five o'clock in the morning. After breakfast 
 I arrived on the scene of action, which was 
 a paddock adjoining the Maldon Gas Works, 
 and roamed about, growing after a while very 
 impatient as the hours of daylight w r ore on 
 apace. In the course of the morning we sent 
 up six pilot balloons, of about sixteen feet in 
 diameter, and the result was not at all en- 
 couraging. The wind was veering about, now 
 north-west and now south-west, in a very 
 fickle manner, and the fifth balloon went in 
 a course which would take it straight up the 
 North Sea ! Simmons looked grave, as well he 
 might. He was an intrepid aeronaut, and had 
 made upwards of four hundred and fifty 
 
A BAD OUTLOOK 189 
 
 ascents in his time, out of which more than 
 half were solitary ones. He had had several 
 very narrow escapes, and had descended into 
 the sea no less than nine times once into 
 the German Ocean, once into the English 
 Channel, and once into Lake Michigan. At 
 the same time he had a laudable desire to 
 live a little longer, and make a few more suc- 
 cessful ascents. The threatening-looking course 
 taken by our fifth pilot balloon seemed to 
 indicate that there would be every probability of 
 his desire in this respect being unaccomplished, 
 if he went up that morning into the heavens 
 with me. He expressed his grave doubts as 
 to the wisdom of our ascending that day, but 
 was too courageous a man to actually decline 
 to do so. 
 
 There remained, however, the sixth pilot 
 balloon to try, and presently it was despatched 
 on its journey. It took a more reassuring course 
 than the fifth, and I adjudged that if our own 
 behaved in the same manner, there was good 
 ground for believing that we should reach 
 Holland or Germany before dark. Simmons, 
 however, did not look on things in such a 
 hopeful spirit. He was in a dubious, head- 
 shaking kind of humour, and was quite prepared 
 
190 ME MO IPS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 for the worst. " Simmons, will you go now ? " 
 I asked him when the sixth pilot had floated 
 away out of sight, and he replied in the affirm- 
 ative. After that he never hesitated. At 
 half-past eleven the inflation of the balloon 
 was finished. The car was affixed, and then 
 made captive to a tree in a hedge close to 
 the gas works. Five hundred pounds of ballast 
 in seven bags were stowed away in the car, 
 and I made a small and useful addition in the 
 shape of some sandwiches and cold tea. We 
 had already tried on our life-belts for use in 
 case we should fall into the North Sea, and 
 nothing remained but to get in, and get off 
 as quickly as possible. We ought properly to 
 have started several hours earlier, as our safety 
 must depend to a very large extent on the 
 amount of daylight at our disposal. 
 
 At half-past twelve Simmons and . I at last 
 got into the car the identical one out of which 
 I lowered myself with my broken leg the year 
 before and the order was given to the score 
 or so of men who were holding to let go. The 
 order this time was promptly obeyed, and we 
 went up in a lull between the gusts of wind. 
 Greatly excited, and filled with admiration at 
 the majestic manner in which we took flight, 
 
A MAJESTIC ASCENT 191 
 
 the great crowd of spectators, who had been 
 waiting patiently " for several hours, burst 
 into loud cheers. The demonstration was kept 
 up for some little while, and we acknowledged 
 it by waving our hats. The undercurrents of 
 wind were anythiog but strong, and as a result 
 our progress to commence with was exceptionally 
 slow. We were told that we were visible for 
 over an hour after the start. Of a very different 
 character was Simmons's ascent in the previous 
 year; in that case the balloon had completely 
 disappeared from sight in the matter of a few 
 minutes, the rate of progress, as already pointed 
 out, being from the outset quite lightring-like. 
 
 Flitting away over Oosey Island and Ash- 
 elclham Gorse, we soon found ourselves "at 
 sea," though it was some time before we lost 
 sight of the Essex coast. A beautiful "Katho- 
 rama" forthwith disclosed itself. The bottom 
 of the sea could be clearly seen in every 
 direction, each channel and shoal standing out 
 in the clearest relief, though 9000 feet below 
 us. The lightship east of the Blackwater 
 looked the size of a flea, but, like every other 
 object visible, it stood out most clear cut. A 
 man-of-war at Harwich was a bit bigger than 
 a pea, and six steamers beneath us appeared 
 
192 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 to be on the point of a wholesale collision. 
 Through the unspeakable stillness 1 the be]l on 
 a buoy off the Black water was to be heard 
 continuously ringing. A man perhaps never 
 really knows what the most magnificent view 
 is till carried by a balloon into a perfectly 
 clear atmosphere. However high we climb 
 amongst the loftiest mountains, there are always 
 peaks in one direction or another to obstruct 
 the view. Nothing in a clear atmosphere 
 impedes the view which opens out to the 
 aeronaut a few minutes after his ascent. 
 
 But we had other things to attend to besides 
 the glorious scenery. We had to devote our 
 minds to the question of whether we were to 
 reach terra firma before night, or be carried 
 away and drowned in the North Sea. We 
 flung out scraps of paper, and noticed that they 
 drifted a bit northerly. So long as the course 
 pursued remained a southerly or easterly one we 
 were fairly sure of reaching the continent. By 
 two o'clock we had touched an altitude of 
 10,000 feet, and now for the first time found 
 ourselves rushing into a dense mist to the south- 
 east. An hour later we were fairly enshrouded 
 
 1 Perfect stillness prevails at six miles above the earth ; 
 but trains can be distinctly heard at four miles. 
 
BEAUTIFUL EFFECTS 193 
 
 in it, and could see nothing but each other and 
 the balloon. 
 
 We enjoyed some effects as beautiful as the 
 aurora borealis. A perfect picture of the 
 balloon presented itself on the clouds. Every 
 rope was faithfully reproduced, and our own 
 forms were accurately represented. We opened 
 our mouths to shout at our vis-d-vis tearing 
 along within a few yards of us, and they opened 
 their mouths as though to shout back at us. 
 The grappling cable which Simmons had let 
 out was distinctly reproduced in reflection or 
 shadow running to the phantom car that kept 
 us company. At first when Simmons drew 
 my attention to this extraordinary effect I could 
 see nothing, but coming over to his side per- 
 ceived it perfectly. Other curious effects were 
 noticeable. For instance, a blue serge suit 
 Simmons wore looked quite green for a while. 
 The atmosphere above presently turned into a 
 deep cerulean blue, and the gas up through the 
 balloon could be clearly seen. The great dome 
 itself, with its gores and diamonds, had a sub- 
 stantial appearance rather reassuring in a region 
 of phantom effects. Meanwhile the silence 
 continued to be, as was the case before we 
 
 came into this dense mist, almost oppressive. 
 
 o 
 
194 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 We could well hear the beating of our own 
 hearts. 
 
 These strange and beautiful reflections or 
 images have been noticed occasionally by several 
 other balloonists. It is not unlikely indeed that 
 they are in various forms quite common. 
 Monsieur Flammarion, when careering through 
 the mystic realms of cloudland, was once startled 
 by the sudden appearance of a rival balloon and 
 rival aeronauts, at, as it seemed, less than a 
 hundred feet away. The forms of the travellers 
 in the rival balloon Flammarion and his com- 
 panion speedily recognized as their own. The 
 minutest details came out in this reflection, the 
 thinnest ropes, and even the cords and instru- 
 ments suspended thereto. Godard flourished 
 the national flag, and the shadow of a flag was 
 instantly moved by the spectral hand in the air. 
 All around too they noticed curious concentric 
 circles of various hues. 
 
 After two hours of silence and mist a faint 
 sound smote on our ears. Could it be the surf 
 on the coast of Holland or Germany ? we asked 
 ourselves. Slowly descending, we emerged just 
 before five o'clock on the under side of the 
 clouds, and at once caught sight of what we 
 conceived and hoped to be the coast-line to the 
 
MIRAGES OF THE ATE 195 
 
 south-east. But a few minutes later this line 
 turned out to be nothing more than one of the 
 many shoals we had seen in the course of the 
 day. Still the shoal was encouraging to this 
 extent it showed that we were no longer in 
 mid-ocean. The next objects which engaged 
 our attention were less deceptive. Several 
 steamers and sailing vessels were within sight, 
 the latter tacking and behaving generally as 
 though they expected that their aid would be 
 shortly required. If that were the case they 
 were speedily undeceived. We left them far 
 behind, and fell to discussing the very serious 
 question indeed it was almost one of life and 
 death as to whether our change in altitude had 
 had the very undesirable effect of taking us out 
 of our course east or south-east to one more or 
 less due north. A streak appeared to the east, 
 and though it remained indistinct for a con- 
 siderable while, I had a fancy it was land. 
 Presently, however, it began to grow dimmer 
 and dimmer, and eventually turned out to be 
 a cloud. There are mirages of the air as of the 
 desert, as we discovered several times during our 
 perilous journey through the clouds. 
 
 At ten minutes past six a rather startling 
 thing occurred. The sun peeped out of the 
 
196 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 bank of clouds which encircled it, and under 
 the influence of its rays, the balloon instantly 
 took a wild leap heavenwards, carrying us in 
 a single bound from 8000 to 17,000 feet. In 
 our mad career upwards we passed through 
 what looked like a great field of glaciers 
 and snow -covered mountains. The glories of 
 Alp and Himalaya pale and sink to puny 
 proportions beside the magnificence of that 
 mountain-land of space. It was difficult to 
 realize that these vast hills were built of mere 
 cloud, so solid and immovable did they appear. 
 The scene was so enchanting that we almost 
 forgot the intense cold the valve-line was 
 frozen and the danger we might incur by re- 
 maining at so great an altitude. The opening of 
 the valve by Simmons, who was not inclined to 
 risk his life for these "unsubstantial pageants" 
 of the air, took us down towards base earth as 
 quickly as we had shot up a few minutes before. 
 The roar of the surf greeted our ears, and 
 before our delighted vision spread a part of 
 Walcheren Island (a spot patriotic Englishmen 
 cannot as a rule regard with pleasure), and 
 of the mainland of Holland, which shut us in 
 on the north. We had thus securely crossed 
 the North Sea, an aeronautic feat never before 
 
A NARROW ESCAPE 197 
 
 accomplished. Simmons was so satisfied that 
 we were safe that he took out his sketch- 
 book, and made a drawing of Walcheren and 
 the town of Flushing which lay immediately 
 beneath us. 
 
 Oftentimes the bringing of a balloon to 
 anchor is a very troublesome and risky affair. 
 As it was, we narrowly escaped striking the 
 top of a cottage. The throwing out of some 
 ballast just saved us from this disaster, which 
 would not improbably have cost both of us 
 our lives. After this incident all went well. 
 We got our grapnel out, and having torn up 
 an odd fence or so, hitched on securely in a 
 dyke. The car bumped about a little, and 
 turned clean over once or twice, but this was 
 a trifle ; for we managed to hang on to the 
 guy-ropes till it righted itself. 
 
 A large crowd of people had meanwhile 
 chased us from field to field. They came up 
 and helped us to pack the balloon in the car, 
 and afterwards escorted us back to Flushing 
 with many signs of enthusiasm and approval. 
 The only jarring note came from the owner 
 of a fence we had considerably damaged. He 
 mentioned large sums of money by way of 
 compensation, but ultimately took a couple of 
 
198 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 sovereigns. Arrived in Flushing, we had just 
 time to get dinner at the Wellington Hotel. 
 Four hours after reaching terra firma we 
 were on, instead of over, the water ; and the 
 following afternoon I was standing in my own 
 hall at Champion Lodge. From an aeronautic 
 point of view, complete success had crowned 
 what looked at the outset a very risky 
 enterprise. The Balloon Society's council met 
 on Thursday, the day after the news of our 
 success was wired to England, and under the 
 presidency of Mr. C. Green Spencer, resolved, 
 "That the Society's gold medal be presented 
 to Sir Claude de Crespigny, one of the life 
 members of the Society, for the indomitable 
 courage displayed in his voyage across the 
 Channel yesterday ; also that a public vote of 
 thanks be accorded to him and Mr. Simmons 
 at the meeting to be held to-morrow." 
 
 Burnaby's voyage across the Channel differed 
 a good deal from that of Simmons in 1882, 
 as also from that of Simmons and myself across 
 the North Sea in the following year. As I 
 was meditating the trip myself, I was naturally 
 very interested to hear all about it from his 
 own lips. It seems that he first definitely 
 made up his mind to cross the Channel when 
 
BUENABTS CHANNEL TRIP 199 
 
 he heard of the failure of Brine and Simmons. 
 Burnaby had little patience with people who 
 decried every one as a lunatic, or a balloonatic 
 as he put it himself, who took any part in this 
 pursuit. His view was that a man was no 
 more a fool to risk his life in a balloon than 
 to take part in steeplechasing or any other 
 sport where a certain amount of hazard must 
 be unavoidable. 
 
 Shortly after the failure of Brine and 
 Simmons, he put himself into communication 
 with the owner of a balloon, in which Mr. 
 Powell, M.P., had once made an ascent. The 
 balloon, he was told, would hold 36,000 feet 
 of gas, and was in excellent condition. Its 
 owner expressed a desire to go with Burnaby. 
 But the latter declined this privilege, and 
 decided to go alone ; for one thing Burnaby was 
 seventeen stone, and one such a heavy-weight 
 passenger as this is quite enough for the lifting- 
 power of most balloons, unless the journey is 
 to be of the shortest. Burnaby also declined 
 to take a reporter for one of the London 
 newspapers with him. The start was arranged 
 for March 21, 1882, from Dover, and when 
 the morning arrived the wind was found to be 
 in the right quarter. The only hitch that 
 
200 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 occurred was in the work of filling the balloon. 
 I have experienced difficulties in this matter in 
 my own expeditions, as I shall show presently, 
 and Burnaby found to his disgust that several 
 hours had to be wasted. He had hoped to be 
 off by eight o'clock, but had scarcely started 
 two hours later. 
 
 As he went up the owner pointed to one of 
 the cords, and suggested that if the balloon 
 burst in the air, Burnaby might do worse than 
 pull it ; he had an idea that the burst balloon 
 might then come down in the form of a 
 parachute. This was a nice kind of thing to 
 set a man thinking about at the moment of 
 his departure from the solid earth and a 
 pleasant send-off! Burnaby, however, was not 
 a nervous man. As he sprang upwards, he 
 appeared to be in considerable risk of striking 
 a factory shaft which was in rather dangerous 
 proximity to the spot selected for the ascent ; 
 but the collision was avoided by flinging out 
 some ballast, and thus increasing the rising 
 power of the balloon. He then rose rapidly 
 to a height of between two and three thousand 
 feet, and enjoyed a fine view of earth and sea. 
 Though there had been frost overnight, the 
 day was warm and pleasant. Being a stout 
 
A STEIKING INCIDENT 201 
 
 man, Burnaby indeed felt the rays of the sun 
 quite oppressive, and shielded the back of his 
 neck with his handkerchief. 
 
 The balloon's motion was delightful, and the 
 occupant congratulated himself that he was 
 not experiencing the horrible qualms of sea- 
 sickness on board one of the passenger vessels 
 plying far below. The first striking incident 
 in his voyage was a sudden and very rapid 
 descent of the balloon. Throwing pieces of 
 paper out, Burnaby observed that they fluttered 
 in the air above. He therefore, to save himself 
 from coming down into the water, began to 
 throw ballast out. It was not until a con- 
 siderable quantity of sand had been scattered 
 that his barometer showed that the balloon was 
 at length taking an upward turn. It did so 
 not a minute too soon, for when his downward 
 career was at length stopped, the balloon was 
 within five hundred feet of the sea. This sudden 
 descent was owing to the fact that the balloon 
 had found its way into a region of cold air, 
 which had compressed the gas. 
 
 Next Burnaby found his balloon had come to 
 a dead stand- still ! He threw bits of paper out 
 of the car, and they one and all fell straight 
 down into the Channel. He was thus, it was 
 
202 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 perfectly clear, becalmed in the air. Some 
 fishing-boats were to be seen at no great distance 
 off, and their crews made signs which Burnaby 
 interpreted as friendly indications of a desire to 
 take him on board, if he would come down into 
 the water. But he had started with the set pur- 
 pose of crossing the Channel, and of not alighting 
 till he had done so. He therefore hardened his 
 heart against the friendly advances of the fisher- 
 men, and stuck resolutely to his stationary 
 balloon. For an hour he remained in this very 
 aggravating position, but at length descended 
 again within less than a quarter of a mile from 
 the water, and then again reascended a little. 
 Things, however, were no better at this lower 
 altitude ; the balloon continued becalmed. What 
 was to be done ? In order the better to consider 
 this question, and to pass away time that was be- 
 ginning to hang heavily on his hands, "the mad 
 Englishman " took a cigar out of his case, and 
 calmly lit up, regardless of the fact that there 
 was a continuous escape of inflammable gas just 
 above his head. He might just as safely have 
 smoked in a powder magazine. Burnaby 
 admitted the riskiness of the proceeding in 
 describing it afterwards, and chuckled when he 
 pictured what the discomfort of the owner of 
 
A DEAD CALM 203 
 
 the balloon would have been, could he have 
 seen what was taking place ! 
 
 No change whatever in Burnaby's position 
 taking place, and the balloon not catching fire, 
 as might have been expected, the aeronaut 
 resolved to ascend to a much greater altitude. 
 He flung out a bag of ballast, which fell with 
 a loud thud into the water. Up shot the 
 balloon to a height of 3000 feet, and then 
 again remained stationary. Out went another 
 bag, and up went the balloon again, this time to 
 an altitude of about a mile and a half; but still 
 the hateful calm. More ballast followed, and the 
 balloon continued to ascend into the higher 
 regions of the air. Very little ballast was left 
 when Burnaby found himself at a height of 
 about two miles. But at length in the midst of 
 cloudland the balloon began to move, and, to 
 Burnaby's great satisfaction, in the direction of 
 France; whilst presently, getting clear of the 
 clouds, he was able to see most distinctly the 
 town and harbour of Dieppe. 
 
 Full of spirits and fun over his successful 
 voyage, the aeronaut, having descended to within 
 a few hundred feet of the earth, over which he 
 was now speeding, dropped some loose sand on 
 a labourer working in a field below. The man 
 
204 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 started, looked all round to see where this had 
 come from, and at length, perceiving the balloon, 
 fell flat on his back. Others now saw the 
 balloon, and cried out to its occupant to come 
 down at once. This is often easier to say than 
 to do in ballooning ; but after bumping the 
 ground once with considerable violence and then 
 reascending, Burnaby pulled the valve-line, and 
 then, as he rushed down with great rapidity, 
 threw out the remainder of his ballast in order 
 to lessen the pace and force of the collision with 
 the ground. He came to anchor in a ploughed 
 field. 
 
 The natives were very kind and obliging, as 
 Simmons found them when he ascended from 
 French soil later on in the year, and vastly 
 excited over the advent of the balloon in their 
 midst. One old woman was especially demon- 
 strative, and Burnaby placed on record her 
 words. " Thank heavens, I too have seen it," 
 cried she. " It passed over ray house like the 
 dome of a cathedral ; and all my hens are still 
 in convulsions of fright at its appearance." 
 
 The two ascents from Maldon, namely, in 
 June 1882 and August 1883, may, I suppose, 
 be regarded as the most sensational in my 
 aeronautic career. It is a rather remarkable 
 
SIMMONS'S TRAGIC END 205 
 
 fact that almost, within rifle-shot of my Essex 
 house there have been during the last twelve 
 years or so two sensational ascents and two 
 sensational descents. The former have been 
 described ; and as regards the latter, there was 
 first that of Captain Alfred Paget, R.N., when 
 the grapnel struck an unfortunate lad who 
 was in its path and caused fracture of the 
 skull ; and secondly, the disastrous descent in a 
 field very close to Champion Lodge when 
 Simmons lost his life. Captain Paget's untoward 
 descent near Maldon I was not informed of in 
 time to go out and meet him and his companion 
 and offer them the hospitality which one 
 balloonist would naturally desire to extend to 
 another. Simmons's death was a source of 
 great regret to me. I had formed the very 
 highest opinion of his pluck, resourcefulness, 
 and experience. 
 
 Most tragic was Simmons's end. It occurred 
 on August 27, 1888, at Ulting, near Champion 
 Lodge. He and two other aeronauts made an 
 ascent from the Irish Exhibition at Olympia, 
 hoping to cross over to the Continent. Every- 
 thing appears to have gone well till they tried 
 to descend at Ulting. The grapnel caught in 
 an elm tree, and Simmons seems to have made 
 
206 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 a premature attempt to reacli the ground. The 
 balloon came down with a bump, shot up again, 
 and struck the tree. It burst with what was 
 described as a terrific report, the car was dashed 
 into fragments, and Simmons came by his end. 
 So the dauntless aeronaut died in harness. 
 
 I recollect Simmons telling me that the only 
 time he was ever in a balloon when the grap- 
 nel smashed, was in 1884, when he was with 
 me. We ascended from Bury St. Edmunds, 
 and came down near St. Neots. The ground 
 was so hard that it smashed the grapnel ! We 
 dragged a long way before we got anchored, 
 tearing an upright post out of the ground, as 
 if it were a tooth-pick, and we only just missed 
 being violently whirled into some telegraph 
 wires, which would no doubt have finished us 
 off all right. As it happened the balloon was 
 burst from neck to valve, and the car stove 
 in, but we ourselves escaped without injury, 
 though we had to hang on to the guy-ropes 
 for dear life to save ourselves from being 
 hurled out as the car turned clean over once 
 or twice. 
 
 We hovered over Bury during this trip for 
 a considerable time, as motionless as Burnaby's 
 balloon was over the Channel. At length I got 
 
BLANCHARD'S FEAT 207 
 
 tired of this kind . of thing, and told Simmons to 
 pull the valve-line. From an altitude of five 
 thousand feet or so we dropped to perhaps three 
 thousand, and soon afterwards found ourselves 
 travelling at the very respectable rate of twenty- 
 five miles an hour. 
 
 Not being myself a witness of the fatal 
 accident which cost Simmons his life, I cannot 
 safely offer any remark as to whether or no the 
 disaster was the result of absolute carelessness. 
 But though it is in the descent, as a rule, that 
 most of the accidents occur, it is not by any 
 means necessarily fatal to catch in a tree. Indeed 
 it sometimes happens that a tree is the best place 
 to come to anchor in. More than a hundred years 
 ago, Mr. Blanchard, the Maxim of his day, in 
 the company of Dr. Jeffries, an American, 
 crossed the Channel from England to France for 
 the first time in the history of ballooning. 
 Before he and his companion had safely got 
 over the water, their balloon began to descend 
 with rapidity, and they only managed to keep 
 up by flinging out their ballast and everything 
 else in the car ; they even disposed of their hats 
 and coats, though it was winter time. Fortun- 
 ately the balloon appears to have changed its 
 mind just before touching the water, and they 
 
208 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 were eventually taken up again, and carried 
 away into the forest of Guieppe. Here one of 
 the aeronauts caught hold of the branch of a 
 tree, and the balloon's dangerous flight was 
 successfully arrested without any accident. 
 Blanchard's feat fired the ambition of a rival 
 balloonist, Pilatre de Kozier, who at once 
 resolved to cross the Channel from France to 
 England. He fixed to the hydrogen balloon, by 
 which the weight was to be borne, another and 
 much smaller fire balloon. This, he believed, 
 would enable him to alter his specific gravity as 
 might be required. The fire balloon speedily 
 set the fabric in flames, and Pilatre and his 
 companion were destroyed. Fifty years ago an 
 English aeronaut escaped from an explosion 
 through fire in a truly miraculous manner. He 
 alighted in his balloon upon a chimney on fire. 
 The balloon caught fire and exploded, but the 
 aeronaut dropped in the very nick of time down 
 the side of the house, and thus escaped. 
 
 The most dreadful aeronautic position, perhaps, 
 which it is possible to conceive was that in 
 which Burnaby and a couple of Frenchmen once 
 found themselves shortly after making an ascent 
 from Cremorne. One of these Frenchmen had 
 invented the balloon used, and was exceedingly 
 
AN APPALLING DISCOVERY 209 
 
 proud thereof. It would probably have never 
 ascended at all had not Burnaby, who volun- 
 teered to go with the theorists, slyly dropped 
 some ballast out of the car. When about a 
 mile and a half or a mile and three-quarters 
 high, the appalling discovery was made that 
 the neck of the aerostat, which should of course, 
 in accordance with the usual custom, have been 
 left open in order to allow of the gas escaping, 
 was still tied up with a silk handkerchief. The 
 balloon was now quite full, and the atmospheric 
 pressure was rapidly decreasing as the aeronauts 
 ascended ; whilst the gas, having no exit, con- 
 tinued to expand. The aerostat was constructed 
 in such a way that it was not possible to get 
 at the neck, and so unloosen the fatal handker- 
 chief ; whilst, to make disaster doubly assured, 
 the valve-line was quite out of reach. Under 
 these circumstances, the only thing the aeronauts 
 could do was to sit still and wait for their 
 balloon to burst and dash them to the earth. 
 To Burnaby death seemed absolutely certain. 
 In a few minutes the balloon did burst, and 
 instantly began to rush earthwards at a velocity 
 that increased every moment. But by a piece of 
 wonderfully good fortune, the balloon somehow 
 in its headlong career downwards formed a kind 
 
210 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 of huge parachute, and the occupants landed 
 unhurt in a field just outside the metropolis. 
 
 By the way, Burnaby had a ballooning fad 
 of his own, on which he dilated to me on one 
 occasion. It was his ambition to reach a height 
 far above that achieved by any other aeronaut, 
 and he had an idea that this might be done 
 by being clad in a kind of diver's dress to 
 avoid the intense cold, and by taking with one 
 a supply of oxygen, the lack of which defeats 
 the balloonist ascending beyond a certain height. 
 To have carried out this idea successfully he 
 never actually tried it he would have had 
 to ascend to a great 'altitude, for in 1862 
 Mr. Glaisher and Mr. Coxwell actually attained 
 a height of seven miles. I have recorded 
 the experiences of Simmons and myself at a 
 height of 17,000 feet, which were not over 
 agreeable. But these two intrepid aeronauts, 
 having three-quarters of an hour after their 
 ascent from Wolverhampton reached an altitude 
 of five miles, calmly flung out sand till they 
 attained a height of 29,000 feet. Before this 
 was done Mr. Glaisher's sight had begun to 
 fail, so that he could no longer read the fine 
 divisions on his instruments. As they con- 
 tinued to ascend, the balloon rapidly spun 
 
A THRILLING EPISODE 211 
 
 round and round,, and as a consequence the 
 valve-line became so entangled that Mr. Cox- 
 well had to climb up into the ring above the 
 car to set it right. Mr. Glaisher became un- 
 conscious, and his companion was in almost 
 as critical a condition. He had great difficulty 
 in extricating himself from the ring, which was 
 so piercingly cold that his hands were frozen. 
 After a struggle he dropped somehow back 
 again into the car, and there feeling himself 
 becoming like Mr. Glaisher, insensible, made 
 one despairing effort. He caught the valve-line 
 now unentangled in his teeth, and, despite 
 his dazed condition, held the valve open till 
 the balloon at last begun to unmistakably 
 descend. When Mr. Glaisher was restored to 
 consciousness, he found his friend's hands quite 
 black and powerless. The history of ballooning 
 furnished no more thrilling episode than this, 
 and Mr. Coxwell's admirable presence of mind 
 and perseverance in the direst of extremities 
 must give him a high and enduring place in 
 the ranks of aeronauts of all time. It shows 
 what sort of a man Burnaby was, to think 
 seriously of putting into the shade the exploit 
 of these two balloonists. 
 
 Once Simmons's balloon ascended with such 
 
212 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 rapidity to the height of 30,000 feet, that he 
 fainted away. Fortunately he had a turn of 
 the valve-line round his hand when he sank 
 insensible amongst the sand-bags, and this soon 
 brought him down to a lesser altitude. He 
 was thus saved in much the same manner as 
 were Glaisher and Coxwell. 
 
 At various times various people have ex- 
 pressed a desire to go with me on a ballooning 
 excursion. Don Carlos to whom, by the bye, 
 I was introduced by an excellent aeronaut, the 
 late General Brine has talked about it, and 
 so have several steeplechasers. One of the 
 people who was quite ready to go a-ballooning 
 with me was Lord Marcus Beresford. I asked 
 him to go with me when I made an ascent 
 with Dale from Lillie Bridge, but he was en- 
 gaged elsewhere. Curiously enough we passed, 
 by pure chance, over Tattenham Corner, and 
 there was Epsom course spread out far below us ! 
 I decided to come down, which we did on Walton 
 Heath there miles from the course. A number 
 of spectators were soon alongside of us, and 
 one fellow made desperate endeavours to climb 
 into the balloon by the neck. There was im- 
 minent danger of his tearing it, so I ordered 
 him to desist. He took umbrage at this, and 
 
DEATH OF DALE 213 
 
 wanted to fight. I was not indisposed to do 
 battle on behalf of the balloon, but his friends 
 dragged him off. A little while later whom 
 should we meet returning from a cricket match 
 but Marcus and Jack Jones? 
 
 Little Dale I esteemed as a capital and most 
 plucky aeronaut, though he had not the immense 
 experience of Simmons. A very short time 
 before his last and fatal ascent at the Palace, 
 I visited Dale, and promised to go up again 
 with him very soon. After Dale's death I was 
 glad to be able to offer his widow a house 
 rent free for two years, in South London. 
 
 Concerning Dale's death I had some remarks 
 to make from the Chair of the Balloon Society, 
 shortly after the accident, which were some- 
 what misinterpreted in several of the daily 
 papers. I was represented as attributing the 
 disaster to the fact that Dale ascended in a 
 balloon made of inferior materials. But he 
 was far too good an aeronaut to have done 
 such a thing. It was and is my view, however, 
 that he, being a poor man, kept his balloon 
 rather too long for his own safety. The disaster 
 occurred from the material partially rotting 
 through being packed away damp ; and it was 
 found that nearly every bone in his body had 
 
214 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 been broken by the fall, as was the case with 
 de Groof, the " flying man " impostor. For 
 many years brave little Dale afforded, at the 
 Crystal Palace, great amusement to many 
 thousands of people. 
 
 My friend, the late General Brine, who made 
 the trans-Channel trip with Dale in August 
 1884, gave a very useful and entertaining lecture 
 before the Society a few years ago, in the course 
 of which he vividly described what may be 
 termed the sentimental side of ballooning. " I 
 have come here to-night," he said, " to treat of 
 ballooning in its scientific aspects only, but 
 I cannot bring myself to say adieu without 
 asseverating that in my humble opinion the 
 calling of the aeronaut has as many charms, if 
 not more, for the poet and the philosopher as 
 for the scientist. What sensation, for example, 
 can equal that experienced by the aerial voyager, 
 when, in his journey through the atmosphere, 
 he actually touches the very clouds which are 
 the ' chariots of the Almighty ' ? And what 
 circumstances can be so much calculated to 
 impress him with reverential awe and astonish- 
 ment passing the power of speech, as when, 
 seated in his frail car suspended from a spherical 
 mass of inflated canvas, and riding triumphantly 
 
MM. L'HOSTE AND MANGOT 215 
 
 over the summits of the loftiest mountains and 
 along the vast deep, he plunges into those 
 mighty atmospheric reservoirs whence come the 
 rain, the hail, and the snow, and introduces 
 himself to those heavenly arsenals with all 
 their attendant mysterious phenomena, whence 
 issue the lightning and the thunderbolt that 
 strike such terror upon the earth?" 
 
 Another aeronaut of that time was M. L'Hoste. 
 To look at, he scarcely conveyed to us the 
 impression of being a very adventurous or 
 resolute man, but his record was a good one. 
 He twice crossed the Channel, but a third 
 attempt to cross from Dover to Dunkirk cost 
 him his life. On Nov. 16, 1887, he and M. 
 Mangot made an ascent. They were last seen 
 about forty miles south of the Isle of Wight, and 
 it was supposed that a storm of wind and rain 
 which was raging at the time must have driven 
 their balloon into the sea. No trace of it, any 
 more than of Mr. Powell's, was ever discovered. 
 
 Up to the present time there have been, I 
 think, about a score of trans-Channel balloon 
 voyages, and in the case of about half this 
 number the start has been made from England. 
 In addition there have been three trips from 
 Dublin to England, and one across the Bristol 
 
216 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Channel. In all, these trips have cost five lives. 
 In seven cases the aerial travellers were cast 
 into the sea, but picked up by vessels. Amongst 
 the most notable voyages over the water within 
 my own ballooning experiences were 
 
 (1) Colonel Burnaby's, March 23, 1882. 
 
 (2) Simmons's, June 10, 1882 (when I broke 
 my leg). 
 
 (3) M. L'Hoste's, Sept. 9, 1883. 
 
 (4) Simmons's, Sept. 13, 1883 (about six 
 weeks after our voyage across the North Sea). 
 
 (5) M. L'Hoste's, August 7, 1884. 
 
 (6) General Brine's and Dale's, August 15, 
 1884. 
 
 Since the last-named date M. L'Hoste, as we 
 have seen, has been drowned ; Simmons killed 
 (August 27, 1888) close to my own house, and 
 the scenes of several of his sensational exploits ; 
 and Dale killed at the Crystal Palace on June 29, 
 1892. General Brine has also long since "joined 
 the majority." Thus of six balloonists who were 
 all bent on crossing and recrossing the water a 
 few years ago, only one remains to-day to tell 
 the tale, namely, myself. With Burnaby's end 
 all the world is familiar. His fame is as great 
 and untarnished as on the day when England 
 first heard of, and mourned over, the loss of 
 
RISKS OF BALLOONING 217 
 
 one of her bravest soldiers. If any one were 
 base enough to ask of what avail to his land were 
 Burnaby's gallant deeds on the field of battle, 
 there could be no better reply than this 
 
 "The greatest gift a hero leaves his country 
 Is to have been a hero." 
 
 The Channel trips have unquestionably been 
 made at a considerable sacrifice of life, but it is 
 doubtful whether ballooning is quite so perilous 
 a pursuit as generally regarded. In the course 
 of ten thousand ascents, in which fifteen hundred 
 aeronauts were engaged, it was calculated not 
 long since that only fifteen lives were lost, or 
 less than one in every seven hundred ascents. 
 I have not had an opportunity of checking these 
 figures myself, and probably they do not include 
 all the ascents made during recent years ; but 
 they appear to be on fairly reliable authority, 
 and, even if not perfectly accurate, help to throw 
 some light on the matter. 
 
 Ever since I saw the ballooning, ineffectual 
 though it usually was, during the siege of Paris, 
 I have always believed that the aeronaut ought 
 to be of great service in campaigns. It was my 
 ambition, even whilst I was lying helpless after 
 the accident at Maldon, to assist the British 
 
218 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 army in Egypt by means of ballooning. I felt 
 sure if I could make a successful ascent or two 
 I should be able to materially assist the General 
 in command. Accordingly, hoping to be soon 
 on my feet again, I wrote and proffered my 
 services, but received a reply to the effect 
 that it had been decided not to use a balloon 
 at all in the course of this campaign. None 
 the less I made up my mind that if I got well 
 I would go out on my own responsibility and 
 take my balloon with me. It was a great dis- 
 appointment as the days and weeks wore on to 
 find that there was no hope of my leg getting 
 right again in time to accomplish this intention. 
 The injury was a worse one than I had supposed. 
 I may add that in my opinion, as in that of 
 a good many others, a balloon would have been 
 much more serviceable than the armour train 
 which was actually used, and which proved no 
 very great success. 
 
 After this date, it will be remembered, a 
 balloon came into requisition at Suakin in 
 March 1885. This was the first time a balloon 
 was ever used by a British fleet at war, and 
 about that period the question of whether 
 dynamite could be thrown at an enemy by 
 aeronauts was quite seriously discussed. Later 
 
AERONAUTIC DEEAMEES 219 
 
 on, in the year 1887, the British War Department 
 conducted experiments at Chatham with a view 
 of testing the use of captive balloons for taking 
 observations in war time. It is rather more 
 than a hundred years since a balloon was first 
 used on the field of battle. 
 
 Great as my belief is in the utility, of balloon- 
 ing for war purposes, where careful observations 
 are needed of the position and movements of 
 a hostile force, I have no patience with the 
 theories of those fanciful aeronauts who opine 
 that the day will come when we shall be able 
 to drive a balloon up wind, and bestride the 
 heavens, in short, about as easily as we do mother 
 earth. It is all moonshine. I have been con- 
 stantly receiving during the last few years all 
 sorts of suggestions for improvements in the 
 science and practice of ballooning, but never one 
 from a thoroughly practical aeronaut. Hitherto 
 all attempts to make balloons reach their 
 destination in spite of the wind have, on the 
 whole, proved as flat failures as the ridiculous 
 things misnamed flying machines. 
 
 The idea of steering a balloon seems to be 
 almost as old as ballooning itself. Tissandier 
 invented what he claimed to be a controllable 
 balloon, and there were others before his time, 
 
220 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 such as Blanchard, who devoted their attention 
 to the same matter. In June 1882, shortly 
 after the Maldon accident, news came from 
 Berlin of a new steerable balloon which had 
 been tried, it was asserted, with some measure 
 of success on several occasions. Before very 
 long, however, as was inevitable, the envelope 
 burst, and the car mechanism was destroyed. 
 Glaisher, Cox well, Nadar, and Burnaby, were 
 all convinced that the problem of how to make 
 a balloon capable of holding its own against 
 the strength of the wind, and of being steered 
 with anything like precision, was one which 
 could never be solved. 
 
 M. L'Hoste was probably one of the few 
 really experienced aeronauts of more recent years 
 who ever went so far in his enthusiasm for 
 ballooning as to talk and write about steering 
 a balloon in the void like a ship at sea. One 
 of his trans-Channel trips from Cherbourg to 
 London was actually made by M. Mangot and 
 himself in a balloon fitted up with a sail and a 
 screw which he called, if I recollect aright, 
 " Le Torpilleur." This of course led to fresh 
 speculation about the possibilities of aerial navi- 
 gation, but the French aeronaut, as a matter of 
 fact, never did anything more against the wind 
 
AEBIAL NAVIGATION 221 
 
 than any other balloonist. Indeed the whole 
 thing is so silly that I cannot imagine sane 
 people ever seriously discussing it. Nevertheless 
 there appear to be persons still so infatuated 
 as to think we shall one day be able to take 
 our ticket to Brighton and back by balloon 
 instead of train. I frequently get letters on the 
 subject. In one I recently received occurs this 
 passage : 
 
 " Setting aside thoughts of offence and defence, 
 solely regarding the matter from the commercial 
 standpoint, building large efficient navigables, 
 simply for comfortable passenger traffic to all 
 corners of the world, ought to prove a profitable 
 speculation. A well-built navigable would be 
 durable and cost little in maintenance." After 
 effusions of this character and this particular 
 one comes, I think, from a General in the British 
 army the poet's fantasy about the "nations' 
 airy navies " " grappling in the central blue," 
 pales in very truth. 
 
 As already stated, I am now the only man 
 living who has crossed the North Sea in a 
 balloon, and probably should not be here to 
 tell the tale had I accepted some of the invita- 
 tions of various amiable cranks to go voyages 
 with them in some of the ridiculous aerial 
 
222 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 machines which have been devised since the 
 science of aerostation first came into existence. 
 One theoretical aeronaut begged me to go with 
 him in a balloon he was devising, and was sure 
 we would be able to get from Norfolk to Naples 
 in fourteen hours. I declined the pleasure, and 
 I never heard that he started on his wild-goose 
 chase. It is probably this kind of person who 
 are responsible in no small degree for retarding 
 the real science of aeronautics. 
 
 Considerable use might be made of balloons 
 in war time for the purposes of photography. I 
 made an ascent with Dale and two photographers 
 from Lillie Bridge, our object being to take 
 some good views of London, but unfortunately 
 the atmosphere became clouded, and we were 
 not successful. We descended at Wimbledon 
 without mishap, or indeed any notable advent- 
 ure, and afterwards there was a lecture at 
 the Society on an electrical stationary balloon 
 which had recently been invented. Colonel 
 Hope, V.C., seconded the President's proposal 
 that a volunteer balloon scientific chair should 
 be formed. Reference was also made to a 
 question which should be of very general 
 interest, namely, on the taking of observations 
 from a balloon for meteorological purposes, which 
 
VIRTUES OF COLD TEA 223 
 
 would enable weather forecasts to be made 
 with much greater certainty and definiteness 
 than at present. 
 
 Before quitting the subject it may be well 
 to remind the public why it was that the 
 ballooning experiments at Suakin, and also in 
 Bechuanaland, proved of little use. These 
 experiments were comparatively unsuccessful, 
 I believe, because the wind happened to be 
 almost invariably unfavourable for the purpose 
 of the aeronauts. It may be readily understood 
 that a captive balloon is only of use in the 
 absence of anything like a strong wind. The 
 department was under the charge of Majors 
 Templar and Elsdale, who caused all the 
 hydrogen gas to be conveyed to the scene of 
 action from Chatham. The balloons were 
 manufactured out of gold-beater's skins. 
 
 I conclude with what may prove a useful 
 tip to aeronauts, who have not made up their 
 minds as to the best kind of liquor to take with 
 them for refreshment, and with a ballooning 
 incident not without humour, though I quite 
 failed to see it in such a light at the time it 
 occurred. I feel sure the blue ribbon army 
 though I am not yet exactly one of their number 
 would approve of the beverage I firmly believe 
 
224 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 in and always take with me a-ballooning cold 
 tea. I first learnt its virtue in my soldiering 
 and sporting days in India. It is an admirable 
 refresher for men engaged in any precarious 
 or exciting occupation when alcohol is, or ought 
 to be, out of the question. Bottled beer in 
 the rarefied air into which the aeronaut plunges 
 will, so Simmons assured me, nearly always 
 burst. 
 
 As regards the humorous ballooning incident, 
 it was this. On a certain occasion I had 
 arranged to have the balloon I had hired inflated 
 and ready for the ascent considerably before 
 mid-day. When the appointed time arrived, 
 however, the preparations were not nearly 
 complete. An hour passed by, and the work 
 of inflation was still unaccomplished. Daylight 
 is almost above all other things precious to the 
 balloonist, and here we were wasting the best 
 part of the morning. Meanwhile as I waited 
 and fretted big crowds of people poured into 
 the field from which the ascent was to take 
 place. I am not sure whether the railway did 
 not run special and excursion trains to accom- 
 modate those who desired to see us start. It 
 afterwards transpired that the enterprising 
 person who was entrusted with the work of 
 
HUMOROUS BALLOONING INCIDENT 225 
 
 inflation, had charge of the gas works through 
 which the spectators passed, and had conceived 
 the idea of charging them sixpence each. 
 Naturally the longer the inflation of the balloon 
 took, the larger his receipts. It must have 
 gone against the grain to let us start before 
 nightfall ! 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 MAINLY STEEPLECHASING 
 
 A pig of a horse A discontented owner and a fair offer 
 "Gentleman Byrne " What he went up the staircase 
 to see Popularity of the Point to Point steeplechase 
 The blacklegs of racing Death of old Architect 
 Clothes-props as whips A good mare and a vile horse 
 A disastrous rough-up and a disastrous trial 
 Winning races with a sprained wrist Lord Queens- 
 berry as a steeplechaser Blondin disappoints 
 Hugging the rails with a vengeance A racer that 
 would steeplechase Another pig Flat racers and 
 steeplechasers An interesting reunion A curious 
 case of disqualification " Edensor " Stanley's 
 African Expedition. 
 
 Now for a real downright pig of a horse com- 
 mend me to Condor the Second. He was a horse 
 of course of a vastly different calibre to Baron 
 Hill, quite apart from the question of behaviour. 
 Condor in fact could do almost anything he 
 chose, but then he never did choose. I rode 
 him for Jones on January 16, 1885, at Wye, 
 when he was top weight by ten pounds. He 
 could probably have won if he had cared to, 
 
 226 
 
A PIG OF A HORSE 227 
 
 but, as it was, got , well beaten, only coming in 
 third. Lady Mildred was first, and Madame 
 Neruda, ridden by Mr. Goodwin, second, in this 
 hurdle race, the Olanteigh Towers Handicap. 
 Again on April 7 of the same year I rode Condor 
 the Second for Jones, that time at Lewes. I was 
 actually winning, when he suddenly took it into 
 his obstinate head to stop short, and there was 
 an end of it. I was top weight, or something 
 like it, on the occasion, but this had nothing to 
 do with my not winning, for he was not in the 
 least beaten when he gave up. On the flat, 
 as well as steeplechasing, Condor nearly always 
 behaved in the same way. Webb, Arthur Hall, 
 and other leading jockeys had been tried as his 
 riders, and tried, as a rule, in vain. I asked Fred 
 Archer, who had ridden Condor the Second more 
 than once, whether the brute behaved in the same 
 way with him, and his reply was, " Yes, always." 
 March 14, 1885. Champion Lodge Hunt and 
 Military Steeplechases. Once again we had 
 excellent weather and a big attendance. In 
 the first event, the Point to Point Steeplechase, 
 Kaliph, owned and ridden by my brother, was 
 alone backed. He won anyhow. In the Hunt 
 Cup, Sporran was fancied. I made play on him 
 for about three-quarters of a mile, after which 
 
228 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 we had a ding-dong race till a quarter of a 
 mile from the winning-post, when Mr. Cooke's 
 Hochheimer, ridden by Mr. Rodwell, forged ahead 
 and won easily. Sporran finished third. In 
 the Farmers' Plate I had a mount on Mr. Rust's 
 Architect, and was again fancied. I jumped 
 them all down, and finished at my leisure. My 
 brother Tyrell won the Hurdle Race Plate 
 on Elmina, who was made favourite, whilst 
 Forrester with myself up did not pass the 
 post. After a rattling fine race for the United 
 Service Cup, I was beaten on Coldstream by 
 Mr. W. Cobbett's Maryx. The latter was ridden 
 by Mr. J. Cobbett, and fell at the water-jump, 
 but all the same managed to win the race. In 
 the Consolation Steeplechase only two started, 
 my brother and myself. I won on Sporran, 
 by a little less than a length after a good race, 
 though at first he refused the water. The 
 owner of my brother's mount expressed great 
 dissatisfaction at the result, and seemed to sup- 
 pose the race had been thrown away. There- 
 upon I offered to ride the race again, with my 
 brother or any jockey in England whom he 
 might select, on Nimrod, but the offer was 
 not accepted, and the affair passed off. 
 
 Colonel, now General, Byrne was invariably 
 
' GENTLEMAN BYRNE* 229 
 
 one of the Stewards at this meeting, as at 
 others in the county. We all know him as 
 " one of the best." He was called in the Service 
 " Gentleman Byrne," owing to the refinement of 
 his manners. Many anecdotes are told which 
 show that "Gentleman Byrne" did fairly earn 
 his sobriquet. During the Fenian Eiots he 
 was in command of his Battery at the Curragh. 
 Strict orders were given that no officer should 
 go to Dublin without special permission of 
 the General officer. This was very irksome to 
 some spirited young fellows, one of whom re- 
 solved, come what might, to break through the 
 regulation. He accordingly took his ticket for 
 Dublin, and got into a railway-carriage, in the far 
 corner of which sat a gentleman hidden behind 
 a newspaper. After the train had started the 
 paper came down, and revealed to the culprit's 
 horrified gaze none other than one of the field- 
 officers of the division. " Gentleman Byrne " 
 recognized his travelling companion. But in- 
 stead of reprimanding and afterwards putting 
 him under arrest, he treated him with the 
 greatest courtesy, and even offered to place at 
 his disposal his own phaeton, which would be 
 waiting the arrival of the train at Dublin. 
 One of the drawbacks of having a clinking 
 
230 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 good horse must always be that bores cease not 
 to pester the owner as to whether or no he 
 fancies it for various races. What struck me as 
 a decidedly neat snub was administered by 
 Byrne at Ascot one afternoon to a persistent 
 bore. The would-be plunger rushed at the 
 General as he was mounting the iron, staircase 
 to see his horse Amphion run, and asked could 
 he give the weight ? "That is what I am now 
 climbing these steps," replied the General most 
 politely, with a wave of his binoculars, " to see." 
 The Point to Point Steeplechase has always 
 been a favourite one with many local people at 
 the Champion Lodge meeting, and the same 
 thing obtains in other local gatherings. At one 
 time we were rather hampered by the regulations 
 of the National Hunt Committee, which tended 
 to somewhat severely penalize riders who took 
 part in these races. The whole question of the 
 Point to Point came up in 1885, when the 
 following motion was set down for a meeting 
 at Weatherby's in the name of the Stewards : 
 " Horses having once run in Point to Point 
 Steeplechases will not be qualified to run in 
 races under these rules until a certificate of the 
 Point to Point Steeplechase in which they ran, 
 signed by a Master of Staghounds or Foxhounds, 
 
POINT TO POINT STEEPLECHASE 231 
 
 be lodged with. Messrs. Weatherby, who will 
 register and advertise it in their Calendar on 
 payment of one Sov., and a horse having won 
 under these conditions will not be considered a 
 winner under these rules. The certificate to 
 
 be as follows : (1) I hereby certify that 
 
 bond fide Point to Point Steeplechase* took 
 
 place at on day. (2) That not more 
 
 than three steeplechases took place there on 
 that day. (3) That the course was practically 
 unflagged. (4) That the races were for bond 
 fide maiden hunters only. (5) That no money 
 was taken at the gates, or at any stand or 
 enclosure in connection with the races. (6) 
 That the winning-post was placed within the 
 limits of the country hunted over by my hounds." 
 It was no doubt time to take action in regard 
 to Point to Point Steeplechases, but I ventured 
 to plead at the time for a little relaxation of this 
 rather stringent certificate. We in Essex were 
 accustomed to carry out this, the most popular 
 race of the day, by ending on the run-in of the 
 steeplechase course, where everybody could see 
 the finish with far more comfort than they would 
 if the winning-post were elsewhere. Many 
 hunting men will not sport silk between flags, 
 but they are quite ready to put on their hunting 
 
232 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 coats for a Point to Point. It was in the interest 
 of such sportsmen that I ventured to spea'k up for 
 this particular kind of race. Personally, I have 
 never had a preference for any one class of race 
 or steeplechase as against another. But some 
 have strong views on the subject. A lady once 
 remarked to me that she would far sooner win 
 the Point to Point than the Ladies' Cup, it being 
 " such a much more sporting event." 
 
 It is impossible to so organize your race meet- 
 ings as to exclude all blacklegs and light-fingered 
 gentry ; and almost the only jarring note in the 
 chorus of approval which greeted these annual 
 concourses arose from those who seemed to think 
 that I was personally responsible for the occasional 
 misconduct of undesirable visitors. There was 
 some correspondence respecting the theft of a 
 watch and chain from a clergyman who attended 
 the meeting one year, and really I do believe 
 that a few enthusiastic anti-sport folk considered 
 I was responsible in the matter ! It was urged 
 seriously that I ought not to advertise the 
 meeting, because this brought down bookmakers 
 and sharpers from town. As a matter of fact, 
 one is bound to advertise meetings held under 
 the aegis of the National Hunt Committee. I 
 pointed out that you might as well hold the 
 
DEATH OF OLD ARCHITECT 233 
 
 Stewards of the Jockey Club responsible for all 
 the offences of a similar kind committed at New- 
 market or elsewhere. But it is no use arguing 
 with your anti-gambling, anti-sport faddist any 
 more than it is any good for him to argue with you ! 
 
 The next day but one found me riding again 
 at Chelmsford. I should know that course fairly 
 well by now, having ridden there some dozens 
 of times within the last dozen years ; whilst my 
 wins there ought to run close into double figures. 
 On this occasion I had a mount on Sir Henry 
 Selwin-Ibbetson's Deception, and won the Chelms- 
 ford Steeplechase. This horse was very bad at 
 starting. He whipped round just before we 
 got away, and lost a hundred yards or so. 
 Fortunately I got off all right in the end, and 
 made up for lost time, thanks chiefly to the con- 
 sideration of the starter, who ran the other side 
 of my horse and waved the flag at him. This 
 had the desired effect, and I proceeded to make 
 the pace a regular " cracker." Now Architect, 
 the horse I had steered to victory a few days 
 before, was in this race, and I was the un- 
 conscious agent of his destruction. The pace 
 killed the old horse, and he fell dead on the 
 course about a mile from home. 
 
 Next month I was busy at various meetings, 
 
234 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 such as Lewes, Harlow, Ipswich, and Plumpstead. 1 
 At the last-named I rode Sporran on April 11, 
 but failed to score in the Open Military Plate, 
 which was won by Mr. Lawson's Hay Fever. At 
 Harlow I rode Eomeo for Sir Henry Selwin- 
 Ibbetson in the Essex Open Steeplechase, and 
 again in the Consolation; I was second in the 
 former, which was won by Stud Groom, with 
 Mr. Colvin up, and fell in the latter, which 
 Mr. H. E. Jones secured on Knight. The Essex 
 Open, by the way, I should have won save for a 
 bit of bad luck. I got up beside the leading 
 horse, and found I had got him beaten. But a 
 few moments later Eomeo blundered and lost the 
 race. Deception, my winning mount at Chelms- 
 ford the previous month, won the Light Weight 
 Hunt Cup in a canter with I. Bailey riding. 
 These steeplechases were of a private character, 
 and held in connection with the Essex Hunt. 
 The second day was a great one for the favourites, 
 nearly all of whom came in first. 
 
 At Ipswich, on April 16 and 17, I did myself 
 well, riding in three races the first day and five 
 
 1 The Plumpstead dykes are noted. Lieutenant Tylden, 
 a good horseman, who was killed shortly afterwards coming 
 home from hunting, took a toss into one of these dykes. 
 On crawling out he was literally as black as ink, whilst 
 the bouquet ugh ! 
 
HIDING AT IPSWICH 235 
 
 the second day out of a possible six ; the only 
 race I could not get a mount in being the 
 Harrier Hunt Cup, given by the Duke of 
 Hamilton for half-bred horses, bond fide hunted 
 with the Hamilton Harriers during the season 
 1884-5. The first day I did nothing worth 
 speaking of, but was more in luck's way on the 
 second. I scored nothing on Romeo in the first 
 event, a Maiden Hunters' Steeplechase. Starting 
 favourite on a horse called Shy lock, in a small 
 field in the Essex and Suffolk Red Coat Race, I 
 won by something like nine or ten lengths from 
 Foxhound, ridden by Mr. Alexander. In the 
 following race I rode a four-year-old, carrying 
 1 1 st. 2 Ibs., Mr. Poole's Ariosto, against Soubrette 
 and Stella, which also belonged to Mr. Poole. 
 I was badly beaten, coming in second, however, 
 as Stella stopped dead in the middle of a field 
 before we had gone a great way. I was also 
 second in the next race on my own horse Sporran, 
 being beaten by a length or so. It transpired in 
 the weigh ing-in after this race that I had carried 
 seven pounds too much, which made a difference 
 no doubt. The last race of the day, the Eastern 
 Counties Hunt Cup, I won on Sir Henry Selwin- 
 Ibbetson's Maid-of- all- Work, a rather nice mare. 
 I did not feel particularly in need of a rest 
 
236 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 after this pretty stiff dose of chasing at Ipswich, 
 so went down to ride in the Isle of Wight. On 
 April 21 were the Castle Club Races, and next 
 day the Isle of Wight Hunt Chases. I returned 
 home, however, without having scored anything, 
 and after a day or two at Epsom, turned up at 
 Sevenoaks on May 13. I rode a horse in Jones' 
 stable simply for a certificate, and was told he 
 could jump anything standing, but always made 
 a rule of refusing the open ditch. The informa- 
 tion was correct. I got him up to the ditch all 
 right, and there the brute stuck. A perfect 
 swarm of stable-boys came running up, and tried 
 their level best with clothes-props to help me 
 get him over the ditch, which he eventually did 
 jump standing. The annoying part of the affair 
 was that several of the well-intended, but ill- 
 delivered, blows of the stable-boys fell on my 
 shoulders rather than on the horse's quarters. 
 So ended my spring chasing season of 1885. 
 
 In the autumn and winter of 1885 I did more 
 hunting and shooting than chasing, but was as 
 usual a good deal at Epsom. October 9, 1885, 
 is a black-letter day in my diary. Cartridge, 
 purchased in 1876, had to be shot. She was the 
 cleverest of jumpers, with, as I have mentioned, 
 a great reputation in Essex. 
 
A GOOD MAKE AND A VILE HOUSE 237 
 
 A horse which recalls much less pleasant 
 memories than Cartridge is Forester, whom I 
 was riding about this time. He was a purchase 
 from Jones' stable, and never won me a race. I 
 gave 200 for the horse, and at a time when 
 half that sum would have purchased a clinking 
 good animal called Standard, who soon after- 
 wards won the Grand Military, or Amythist, 
 who won a big steeplechase at Worcester, and 
 another at Leamington a little later on. Forester 
 cost a great deal of money in all before we were 
 happily rid of him, and he was the most ex- 
 pensive horse and biggest crock I ever possessed. 
 He was given away to a friend as a park hack, 
 and fell down dead not a great while afterwards. 
 
 A rough-up at Sandown early in March 1886 
 was disastrous to Ked Hussar, a very fine 
 horse indeed. Jones was anxious to give 
 Coquette, belonging to his Eoyal Highness 
 the Prince of Wales, all the schooling possible 
 in order that she might have a good chance 
 of winning the Grand Military Gold Cup in 
 which she was shortly to run. Bewicke was 
 on Eed Hussar, Fisher on Coquette, and I on 
 Flushing. The ground was terribly hard, and 
 we really ought not to have been out at all. 
 Red Hussar, before we had gone very far, split a 
 
238 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 pastern, and had to be at once destroyed. The 
 horse was so great a favourite that before he had 
 lain dead for ten minutes almost every scrap of 
 hair had been cut from the mane and tail by the 
 mob to be kept by way of mementoes. How hard 
 the ground was may be judged by the fact that 
 there were something like ten broken collar-bones 
 in Jones' and Iquique's stables, about half of which 
 were snapped that afternoon. An offer to buy 
 Ked Hussar had come from a high quarter very 
 shortly before this misfortune, and it was known 
 that a heavy sum had been named as the price. 
 This training disaster reminds me of a most 
 unfortunate trial, the particulars of which were 
 related to me by an old chasing comrade. 
 Eeturning one evening from Wye, having most 
 unexpectedly landed an eight to one chance 
 and upset a good thing of Yates's with Sensier 
 up, I strolled into the Naval and Military 
 Club, when a cheery hail from the depths of 
 an armchair, " Have you dined, old fellow ? " 
 revealed to me the beaming countenance of 
 Billy Morris now, alas ! no more, killed, like 
 Whyte Melville, 1 in a grip no bigger than a 
 
 1 George Whyte Melville was not killed over a fence or 
 a furrow. His horse turned over in a flat, well-harrowed, 
 light-ploughed field, dicky legs ridden on too long ! B. 
 
BILLY MORRIS'S YARN 239 
 
 water-furrow. Having told him I had dined, 
 he replied 
 
 " Well, bring yourself to an anchor, and 
 let's have some coffee, a smoke, and a yarn." 
 
 This suited me well, as I had as much 
 respect for little Billy's head as his hands, which 
 were generally, if not unanimously, admitted 
 to be the best in the British army. Amongst 
 my steeplechasing acquaintances there was not 
 one his equal in observing and graphically 
 describing the incidents of a cross-country 
 event. Being connected with the same stable, 
 a topic of mutual interest was not difficult to 
 find. As one of our nags was first favourite 
 for the big event at Croydon to be decided 
 the following week, I hazarded a suggestion 
 that it was a good thing for us. A groan was 
 the only answer. 
 
 " Halloa, old chap, what's up ; a twinge of 
 rheumatics ? " 
 
 " Oh, of course you know nothing about it," 
 was the reply ; and forthwith Billy proceeded 
 to unfold his tale of woe, which I will try and 
 relate as much as possible in his own words. 
 " We're now at York, as you are aware. Yester- 
 day morning a wire was handed me from Marcus, 
 * Come at once, do not fail.' The chief, with 
 
240 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 a merry twinkle, pretty shrewdly guessed what 
 the game was, and at once granted leave. 
 Though he doesn't sport silk now, you know 
 what a bad one to beat he is with hounds. You 
 remember what a cracker he led us with that 
 good up- wind afternoon dog-fox from Lightly, 
 right under your own windows, along the 
 straight run-in of your private course, through 
 South Wood, across the very best of your 
 country, past Squarson Leigh's, with those fine 
 horsemen, George Blake on Cartridge and Billy 
 White on Tommy Dodd, riding knee to knee in 
 a way which reminded one of the old days over 
 the Middlewick course. By the bye, our brave 
 old Chilblain was out that day, and your delight 
 when the Ted worth Finder pulled the fox down 
 in where was it, Holland or Jamaica ? for 
 no fox-hunter had ever before seen the death 
 honours of a fox in such a morass as was your 
 East Anglian lagoon. But I'm rather running 
 riot. Catching a fast train south, I'd time 
 for a snack at the ' Spurs,' and to get 
 comfortably down to Epsom Station, where 
 our worthy trainer and jockey, Jack Jones, 
 met me and soon rattled me up to Priam 
 Lodge. There I found Marcus, and Jack's 
 brother-in-law, Arthur Hall. Ensconced in 
 
BILLY MORRIS'S YARN 241 
 
 Jack's snuggery, which is so tastefully decorated 
 with many mementoes of his patrons' good- 
 will, a characteristic evening was spent dis- 
 cussing our battles past, present, and future 
 not the least important of which was that which 
 
 had been the cause of my wire, viz. that C , 
 
 the favourite for the Great Croydon Handicap, 
 was to be 'asked the question' the following 
 morning, and we saw no particular reason why 
 the noble army of touts should know more 
 of the stable secrets than we could help. Jack, 
 of course, was to ride the favourite, Marc old 
 Woodcock, a most reliable trial horse, whilst 
 
 Hall and I were to have the mounts on Q 
 
 and T respectively to ensure a pace. Mrs. 
 
 Jack had carefully locked the lads in their 
 dormitories, from which durance vile they would 
 
 not be released till C had satisfactorily 
 
 or otherwise been through the mill. Weights 
 having been carefully adjusted, about two 
 hours before daylight we adjourned to the 
 stables, saddled our horses, mounted and jogged 
 along by the bye-lanes to Sandown, where 
 everything had previously been quietly pre- 
 pared. As day began to break we could dis- 
 tinguish the trees above and beyond the grand 
 stand. Having filed on to the course, but 
 
242 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 little time was lost in getting into line and 
 starting. Q jumping a bit the quickest 
 into her bridle, led up to the first flight of 
 hurdles, where she showed temper, and 
 whipping round absurdly carried the others 
 with her. So we laughingly returned to the 
 starting-post. No mishap followed a second 
 attempt. The minor details of the trial will 
 hardly interest you. Suffice it to say that it 
 was a fast run one. Hall and I had performed 
 our allotted tasks, and were easing our horses 
 somewhere opposite the lower part of the public 
 stand enclosure, and, although at the wrong 
 angle, watched the finish, so far as we could, 
 with considerable interest. With one of his 
 powerful rushes Jack seemed to come away 
 from the half distance, and gradually overhauling 
 game old Woodcock a few strides from the 
 
 winning-post, landed C a clever winner. 
 
 We subsequently ascertained it was three- 
 quarters of a length. A gratified look had 
 hardly passed between us, and a misty idea that 
 the bookies' shekels were in my pocket, and that 
 there would be no difficulty in springing that 
 extra pony which would transfer that raking 
 chestnut of Bob's from his stable to mine, and 
 the following week the Rugby Venus Tankard 
 
MORNING EXERCISE AT SANDOWN 243 
 
 from Hunt and JloskelTs shop-window to my 
 sideboard, when a remark from Hall arrested 
 my attention. * I don't like the way the 
 master's dismounted ; hope there's nothing 
 wrong.' Increasing our pace up the hill we 
 
 found something very much wrong. C was 
 
 on three legs ; he had broken down the stride 
 past the post. The glorious uncertainty had 
 indeed reminded us of its existence, to our great 
 discomfiture. Leaving Hall to make the cripple 
 as comfortable as circumstances would admit, 
 a somewhat melancholy trio wended their way 
 back to Epsom. On arriving outside the stables, 
 Jack's face was a study at seeing the touts 
 squatting about like so many peccaries, wait- 
 ing the favourite's appearance for morning 
 exercise. I hardly suppose the mischief has 
 leaked out yet. ' Here, waiter, give me the 
 " Special." ' By Jove, hasn't it, though ! look 
 here, sixty-six to one offered. The acumen of 
 touts is simply appalling." 
 
 This breakdown was naturally a bit of a facer, 
 but fortunately just then the stable was in rare 
 form, and by the time the so-called illegitimate 
 season had closed, the winning brackets 
 represented a formidable total, and the balance 
 at Weatherby's a correspondingly healthy 
 
orester not a very 
 sidering I had ridden in five 
 This year the Champion Lc 
 on April 1. I rode in six evei 
 in four of them was second, 
 of it in the other two. The I 
 Mr. Barkley's Problem, the \\ 
 being second in this race, anc 
 
WINNING RAGES WITH A SPRAINED WRIST 245 
 
 last event of the day, the Consolation. Captain 
 Henderson's Paleface, ridden by Mr. Purefoy, 
 won the Hunt Cup, the only other starter being 
 Sporran, with myself up. Telemachus (Mr. 
 Tippler up) was first in the Champion Lodge 
 Cup, and Flushing second, both starting at odds 
 of 4 to 1 against. Telemachus also won the 
 Selling Hunters' Hurdle Kace Plate, beating 
 Ariosto, my mount. 
 
 I did not ride again in April, but in both 
 May and June following put in an appearance 
 at a good few meetings, local and other. At 
 Ipswich, on May 5, I won two races on a 
 mare called Misunderstood this despite an ugly 
 fall in my second race that day, which so 
 shook me up that it was scarcely easy to hold 
 the reins. Fortunately Misunderstood had a 
 beautiful mouth, and was very easy to ride. 
 Both races, namely, the Shrublands Park Maiden 
 Hunters' Steeplechase, and the Essex and Suffolk 
 Ked Coat Race of three miles " over a fair 
 hunting country," were won by three lengths. 
 In the first race I started second favourite in 
 spite of my sprained wrist, and beat Sir Henry 
 Selwin-Ibbetson's Lorna, the first favourite ; 
 whilst in the second started top weight, and 
 rather a hot favourite, if my memory has not 
 
246 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 failed me. Mr. J. B. Charters came in second 
 on Garry o wen. In the Military Steeplechase 
 my mount was Pictus ; but though favourite he 
 did not succeed in repeating his previous suc- 
 cesses with me as his rider. Captain Lee Barber 
 also had a nasty fall that day, breaking his 
 collar-bone. The chasing came off on the old 
 Ipswich course. 
 
 Talking of falls, I once came to much grief 
 through trying to rise and remount when there 
 was a horse close behind me. I got struck on 
 the head and rendered unconscious as a punish- 
 ment. It would have been far wiser to have 
 lain still and allowed the horses behind to pass 
 over me. A horse is as squeamish as a tame 
 elephant about treading on a man. Once the 
 Marquess of Queensberry riding in a race at 
 Punchestown, came down when leading in a field 
 of thirty-six. He lay flat, whilst the other 
 horses passed over, or close to, him. There is 
 no denying that it requires some patience to 
 do this, but it is the only safe course to adopt. 
 
 This reminiscence of Queensberry as a rider 
 recalls a rather quaint incident in his career 
 as an owner of race-horses. He bought a horse 
 called Morris Dancer for 700, and ran him 
 several times. The horse was over-handicapped, 
 
LORD QUEENSBERRY 247 
 
 however, and could do nothing. Quite dis- 
 gusted, Queensberry at length resolved to try 
 and get rid of the animal, and offered him to 
 anybody who would buy him on the course 
 after the last race. Everybody laughed at the 
 offer, till at last a butcher ventured to say he 
 would run to a five-pound note. Queeusberry 
 promptly closed with this princely offer. 
 Shortly afterwards he was surprised by seeing 
 the horse entered in two races, and handicapped 
 no less than two stone lighter than he had ever 
 been on previous occasions. Thereupon he 
 wrote to the butcher, told him the horse couldn't 
 lose, and asked to be allowed the mounts. The 
 butcher was naturally quite willing, as the 
 Marquess was a fine rider. So Queensberry 
 rode in, and won, both races, backing his mount 
 in both events. He then offered to buy Morris 
 Dancer back for 200. The butcher, nothing 
 loath, consented. At once the horse got over- 
 weighted again, and never afterwards won a race. 
 About now Blondin was astonishing, or rather 
 re-astonishing, London with his tight-rope 
 walking at the Albert Palace, and being in 
 town on May 12, I repaired to Battersea one 
 day to see the performance. I pressed him to 
 take me across the rope ; but he made excuse 
 
248 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 that the electric light was rather trying, and 
 said he therefore could not accede to my 
 request. He would only take his son across 
 with him. It seems to have been a fact that 
 his sight was not then what it had been a few 
 years before, but knowing his extraordinary 
 surefooted ness I had not the least hesitation in 
 making the request, and would have gone on 
 his back without any misgiving. I should have 
 made a point of not falling without at any rate 
 carrying Blondin along with me, and Blondin, 
 in my opinion, simply could not fall. He 
 promised to take me across the rope on some 
 future occasion should a favourable opening 
 offer, but it never did. 
 
 Southwell, May 3, 1886. Here I won the 
 Hunters' Flat Eace on my mare Imogene, 
 starting at 5 to 1 against. She was by Queen's 
 Herald out of Imogene, and trained by Jones. 
 Captain Maud slay's Mercia, the favourite, was 
 second, and Mr. Pidcock's Soudan third. This 
 was one amongst probably many races won by a 
 long and painstaking examination of the ground 
 early in the morning. I found a shepherd's 
 track, but so close to the rails that in sticking 
 to it in the race quite expected once or twice 
 that my shins would get broken against the 
 
HUGGING THE RAILS 249 
 
 heads of some of the spectators who craned 
 forward to see the sport, as people do when 
 at all interested in an event. It was necessary 
 to hug the rails for a good while, so as not to 
 get off the track into the deep ground, through 
 which the other horses were ploughing their 
 weary way. The craning necks were no doubt 
 one and all drawn discreetly back as I came up 
 to close quarters, but in my hot haste I did not 
 perceive this, and felt that an accident was 
 almost inevitable. 
 
 As regards devices for winning a race, 
 George Fordham had one which in the case of 
 a very close finish was certainly not likely to 
 confuse the judge in a way unfavourable to 
 himself. He would throw himself forward 
 almost between the ears of his horse, and so 
 seem to be first past the post in cases where 
 the race might otherwise have been adjudged 
 a dead heat, or even, it may be, given in his 
 rival's favour. Every inch in the case of a 
 very close finish makes a difference, and it is 
 quite conceivable that the judge seeing a 
 jockey's colours first past the post would award 
 the wearer the race, even if his horse's nose was 
 beaten by an inch or two. 
 
 At Aylesbury, the same month, it fell to my 
 
250 MEMOIRS OF SIB CLAUDE DE CBESPIGNY 
 
 lot to ride another very ill-tempered horse 
 Quarter-master Brown's Galloway. It was on 
 the flat, but Galloway suddenly took a fancy 
 for a bit of steeplechasing. We went off the 
 course, and over the brook. It is scarcely 
 necessary to add that he was not placed in that 
 race. At Wye, on June 17, I was second to 
 Chorister, ridden by Butcher, in the Selling 
 Hunters' Hurdle Race, with Imogene ; and 
 the following week was racing on the flat at 
 Stockbridge. Here I rode Imogene one day in 
 the Hunters' Plate, won by Amy, with Billy 
 Bevill up, but was not placed ; and Cutlet 
 in the Andover Stakes, another. Cutlet, the 
 property of Arthur Yates, and trained at 
 Bishops Sutton, was, like Condor II., a perfect 
 rogue. He would scarcely ever try, but when 
 he did was very hard to beat. Sensier did 
 once win a race on Cutlet, not a little to his 
 own surprise, starting at long odds. In this 
 race at Stockbridge, Cutlet was quite out of it. 
 George Lambton won on Lord Lurgan's Polemic. 
 When Billy Bevill, the rider of Amy that 
 day at Stockbridge, ceased riding, some years 
 ago now, he was the oldest gentleman jockey, 
 or at least the oldest known at all to the 
 public, living. My old friend Billy White, 
 
THE ' HAMPSHIRE WEEK' 251 
 
 who has now passed the borderland of the 
 seventies, was still riding picked mounts nine 
 or ten years ago. The last time he ever donned 
 colours was at a Champion Lodge meeting. 
 
 Billy Bevill, like Fred Beauclerk, never be- 
 lieved much in his own oratorical powers. At a 
 dinner at one of the Bibury meetings, Sir John 
 Astley and others drank his health with acclaim. 
 He got up to make a speech in response, and 
 this is what he said : "I am very much obliged 
 to you for having drank my health, but I 
 would a deal rather ride a race than make a 
 speech." With that he sat down abruptly. 
 
 What an enjoyable affair used the "Hampshire 
 Week " to be in those days ! The charms of the 
 twin meeting over the Danebury Downs have 
 been so often dwelt upon, that there is no need 
 to repeat them here. Amongst the regular fre- 
 quenters there were : Lord Portsmouth, Cale- 
 don Alexander, Sir John Astley, Lord Falmouth, 
 Henry Savile, the Duke of Hamilton, the Duke 
 of Beaufort, Sir Frederick Johnstone, and Lord 
 Alington, Count Kinsky, Prince Soltykoff, 
 Duchess of Montrose, General Owen Williams, 
 and Sir William Throgmorton. Ten years or 
 so have made a sorry gap in the ranks of these 
 patrons of Bibury. 
 
252 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 Flat racing, as mentioned earlier in this book, 
 has never been either my metier or my ambition. 
 It lacks the stirring incidents, the hazards, and 
 consequently the excitement of the steeplechase. 
 Very few men have been strikingly successful, 
 so far as my experience goes, both on the flat 
 and across country, though now and again we 
 come across a jockey, like Arthur Coventry, who 
 is perfectly at home racing as well as chasing. 
 Jim Adams, who is now training, might pre- 
 sumably have been regarded as decidedly suc- 
 cessful in his day in both provinces. One mount 
 in a big steeplechase the Grand National 
 was enough and to spare for Webb, and Eicaby 
 has also made a little chasing go a long way. 
 Some who have grown too weighty to be any 
 longer useful on the flat, take to steeplechasing 
 with a certain amount of success, but they are 
 few and far between. Steeplechasing of course 
 has not the pecuniary inducements which are 
 offered by flat racing ; it has no Jubilees and 
 Eclipses. Nevertheless, Fred Archer always had 
 a fancy to try his hand at a big cross-country 
 event one day. He said he would ride in the 
 Grand National before he died, but the intention 
 was never carried out. 
 
 There was chasing at Wye in the early part of 
 
AN INTERESTING REUNION 253 
 
 January 1887, but several meetings later on 
 during this and the following month had to be 
 abandoned owing to the hard frost. I went 
 down to Savernake to ride in the steeplechases, 
 which it was intended to hold there, but the 
 ground was too iron-bound to permit of their 
 coming off, and we had to wait for sport till 
 March 8. On that day the Rugby Chases were 
 held-. An interesting reunion to me at this 
 meeting was that between myself and " Bay " 
 Middleton. We had ridden just twenty years 
 before, first and second respectively in the South 
 of Ireland Military, and had not once met as 
 antagonists on a racecourse in the interim. At 
 
 o 
 
 Rugby " Bay " won a race on Punjaub, and I one 
 on Flushing. Twenty years is a good slice out 
 of even a long sporting life ; but we both recalled 
 our Irish contest very clearly, and not without 
 some lively emotions. " Bay," by the way, though 
 unlucky enough to lose the South of Ireland 
 Military, which I was fortunate enough to win 
 on Maid of the Mist, had won two races that day 
 in the spring of 1867, one on Black Prince, the 
 other on a mare called Sophy. 
 
 My win at Rugby was the Ladies' Plate. 
 Flushing's success in this race seemed to show 
 that a horse usually repays an owner for indi- 
 
254 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 vidual attention and supervision. Whilst at the 
 trainer's this horse, who was rented from Billy 
 White, was always singularly unfortunate ; 
 whereas the first time he ran after removal to 
 Champion Lodge, where we were able to train 
 him ourselves, he won a race. Captain Elmhirst's 
 Vanity Fair came in second, ridden by Captain 
 Lindsey, who was beaten by a length and a half 
 or so. A bad third. 
 
 Next day we turned to Loughborough to 
 take part in the Quorn and Donington Hunt 
 meeting. In a field of two for the Half-bred 
 Steeplechase Plate, the betting was seven to 
 four on my opponent, Mr. Lewin's Brunette. I 
 was on Chatterbox, who was hired from a friend. 
 Brunette won, but an objection was lodged and 
 sustained on the ground of not being a maiden. 
 The stakes therefore fell to Chatterbox. 
 
 Talking of disqualifications, it was once gravely 
 stated that Wenty Hope Johnstone in a race in 
 Ireland had appealed against five opponents, and 
 got them all disqualified. Wenty was asked if 
 that were so. He said no it wasn't, but told 
 of a decidedly curious thing that had occurred in 
 relation to this particular race. He had lodged 
 an objection against the favourite, which was 
 allowed. Now the owner of the favourite was 
 
' GREEK FIBE' 255 
 
 also the owner of the horse Wenty had 
 ridden. Surely this case is an absolutely unique 
 one ! 
 
 One of the Louises used to write " Nothing " 
 in his diary even at a period when the fortunes 
 of his kingdom were at stake if there was no 
 hunting. So a steeplechaser at times during, at 
 any rate, the steeplechasing season may well set 
 down the same word when he gets no sport worth 
 speaking of. Thus " Nothing " at Chelmsford 
 Chases on March 24, 1882, and ditto at 13th 
 Hussars' Chases at Manningtree on April 12. On 
 April 27, Greek Fire and I repaired to Thick 
 Thorn. Greek Fire would certainly have been 
 first instead of second in a fair race on the 
 following day, had not my opponent ridden clean 
 across, for which outrage he ought to have been 
 disqualified at least as deservedly as Brunette. 
 But the judge's decision was not upset. There is 
 not of course the satisfaction, or anything like 
 it, of winning a race through the disqualification 
 of one's opponent as there is in beating all 
 competitors in a fair and square race. It may 
 be added that the jockey who spoilt Greek 
 Fire's chance on this occasion in such an inexcus- 
 able manner was the merest amateur ; had he 
 been a professional or a seasoned rider, his conduct 
 
256 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 would have disqualified him to an absolute 
 certainty. 
 
 At Ipswich, on May 5, my colours were not 
 prominent ; but on the 17th, Edensor won. The 
 horse originally belonged to the Duke of 
 Hamilton, who was present, and said he had never 
 seen the horse looking better. He endeavoured 
 to bolt off the course in this race the Trades- 
 men's Cup at Bungay with the evident idea of 
 turning into the stables where he had slept over- 
 night. But his rider did not see his way to 
 accommodate Edensor, and instead the horse 
 won the race. That was the last race for me 
 in 1887, a trip to North America in search of 
 other varieties of sport being arranged shortly 
 afterwards. 
 
 Edensor would have had a great chance of 
 winning the Grand National, in my opinion, if 
 he had only been entered for that race. He was 
 a beautiful jumper, and would not have carried 
 more than ten stone on his back at Liverpool. 
 Since passing out of Marsh's hands, Edensor had 
 done a good deal of hunting in our cramped 
 Essex country, and the music of the hounds had 
 probably made him take kindly to jumping. 
 We had carefully " summered " him on the salt- 
 ings, and got his legs as fine as a foal's. Had he 
 
STANLEY'S AFRICAN EXPEDITION 257 
 
 landed upside of the leaders over the last fence at 
 Liverpool, his fine turn of speed would have about 
 carried him home. When in America I wrote 
 to have him entered for the race ; but ought 
 to have wired, for he had been sold before 
 the message was received. Marsh, curiously 
 enough, despaired of Edensor as a steeplechaser, 
 and decided that he was only fitted for hurdle 
 racing. 
 
 When in the winter of 1886 Mr. Stanley's 
 African expedition was being arranged, I had 
 every intention, could it be managed, of forming 
 one of the party. We met and talked the 
 matter over. Mr. Stanley's staff, however, was 
 complete at the time, and moreover, whilst good 
 enough to say that I was well fitted to be one 
 of his party in nearly all respects, he pointed out, 
 what was perfectly true, that want of Central 
 African experience was a drawback. The inter- 
 view therefore did not promise good results, 
 nor was a second one with him and Sir 
 Francis de Winton, a few days later, more 
 productive. What I ought to have done was 
 to have gone to the point of debarkation, and 
 there in all probability Mr. Stanley would 
 have accepted me as a member of his party. 
 Friends who were aware of the offer I made 
 
258 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 to Mr. Stanley of my services, have on more 
 than one occasion observed that it was very 
 fortunate it came to nothing, as otherwise 
 there would have been an ugly split between 
 us, such as actually occurred in regard to Major 
 Barttelot. But my interview with Mr. Stanley 
 was of a most friendly character ; nor is there 
 the slightest reason in my mind to suppose that 
 we should of necessity have fallen out had my 
 offer been accepted. Discipline should always 
 be one of the chief laws of life to every man 
 who has been in the Service ; so much may be 
 safely said without making the least comment 
 on the unhappy quarrel which threw a dark 
 cloud over this African expedition of Mr. 
 Stanley's. 
 
 Even more keenly have I had cause to regret 
 my lot in not being able to take part as a 
 volunteer in several of our little African wars. 
 Unfortunately the terms of my father's Will 
 compelled me to ensure my life heavily about 
 the time of my marriage, and the Insurance 
 Companies, as is well known, are enabled to put 
 on a very high war premium. This shut me out 
 of the various campaigns in South and North 
 Africa during the last dozen years or so. In 
 particular I was very keen to go to the Cape as 
 
I VOLUNTEER TO GO TO THE CAPE 259 
 
 a volunteer at the time of Isandula ; but it was 
 clearly intimated to me that I should be penal- 
 ized by a very heavy and additional premium. 
 I had therefore to stay at home, and fret over 
 my baulked projects. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 ADVENTUKE BY LAND AND SEA 
 
 A trip to Florida Havana A candidate for office of 
 Picador A reminiscence of Governor Eyre Bull- 
 fighting The charge of brutality brought against 
 it A Portuguese bull-fight A Spanish bull-fight 
 A great exhibition of skill arid pluck The history 
 and traditions of the bull-fight A sparring match 
 that failed Two ten to one chances A race won after 
 two falls A capital way of keeping fit in town How 
 Lord Queen sherry does so Sir Thomas Lennard's 
 plan Going to sea in an open boat A complete 
 wreck From Southampton to Plymouth. 
 
 IN these days of universal travel it is a difficult 
 matter to strike what may be termed new ground. 
 Indeed, it is almost impossible, and the nearest 
 approach one can make to novelty is to pick out 
 the spots least frequented by those two ubiqui- 
 tous specimens of humanity, the sportsman and 
 the British tourist. Bearing this in mind, and 
 having received an invitation from an ex-sailor, 
 I determined on a short tour through Florida, 
 with Cuba to follow. So having written to 
 
 260 
 
A TRIP TO FtOEIbA 261 
 
 S to meet me at Douglass's Tropical Hotel at 
 
 Kissiinmee, set about collecting my impedimenta, 
 and engaged a berth by the Cunard boat from 
 Liverpool to New York. Of course there are 
 many ways of getting to the stars and stripes, 
 and the traveller can have his choice of which 
 line he will elect to travel by. Mine fell on 
 the Cunarder, and there was no cause to repent 
 it ; everything on board was most comfort- 
 able, and with fine weather we made a rapid 
 passage, arriving at Sandyhook almost before 
 we had well cleared the Mersey at least so 
 it seemed. 
 
 From New York there is again a choice of 
 routes. You can take the luxurious vestibule 
 train or the steamer to Jacksonville, where it 
 will not be amiss to spend a couple of days 
 at St. Augustine, in the palatial hotel, Ponce 
 de Leon, built after the style of old Moorish 
 architecture. From Jacksonville you take the 
 train to Kissimmee ; or, better still perhaps, the 
 steamer down St. John's Eiver to Sandford, and 
 then on by rail. 
 
 Arrived at Kissimmee, Mr. Douglass will, 
 assuming that he is still in the land of the living, 
 make you thoroughly comfortable in the Tropical 
 Hotel at an exceedingly moderate outlay, and 
 
262 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 will put you in the way of obtaining either a 
 steamer or boat to the best sporting ground, 
 which is in the neighbourhood of Fort Bassenger 
 and Lake Arbuckle. 
 
 On arrival at Kissimmee, I found all arrange- 
 ments had been made by S , who had also 
 
 got punt and everything in readiness, so that 
 there was nothing for me to do but overhaul the 
 shooting-irons and kit, and prepare for a start. 
 While on the subject of shooting-kits, it may be 
 mentioned there is no necessity to bring out 
 cartridges, as a gunmaker in Kissimmee, called 
 Farringdon, can supply every requisite ; and, 
 what is more, is particularly careful in loading. 
 When ordering cartridges I found American 
 wood powder by far the best, and can recom- 
 mend it strongly. Flannel is the best material 
 for clothing, and a stock of quinine should 
 not be forgotten. These, however, are details. 
 
 On Tuesday, December 13, we left St. Elmo 
 at 7.15 a.m., arrived at the south end of Lake 
 Tokhopekaliga at 1 p.m., and passing quickly 
 through the canal into Lake Cypress, and on 
 through a second canal, came into Lake Hatch- 
 ineha, just as daylight was vanishing. Here we 
 were lucky enough to hit off a sandbank studded 
 with oak copse, and dry wood being plentiful, 
 
ON LAKE HATCElNEHA 263 
 
 soon had our camp fire under way, and supper. 
 The whiff of tobacco, and glass of Bourbon 
 whisky which followed the evening meal, were 
 both mighty acceptable, for we had had nine 
 hours' hard rowing under a blazing sun, and 
 
 O O ' 
 
 were both fairly tired out. At least I can 
 answer for it that it was with a feeling of deep 
 satisfaction I curled myself up in my blankets 
 for the night, and was quickly lulled to sleep by 
 a chorus of frogs, with the occasional " ouf, ouf ! " 
 of a somewhat consumptive alligator. 
 
 The following morning we were up betimes, 
 and after an early breakfast packed our boat and 
 made a move. Although there was no definite 
 agreement made, I somehow drifted into the 
 rowing, shooting, and timber- felling department, 
 
 while S " bossed " the steering, fishing, and 
 
 cooking side. On arriving off Fort Gardner we 
 came across a party of five Seminoles headed 
 by Tom Tiger, a fine stalwart Indian, who we 
 gathered was likely to be elected chief when old 
 Tallahassee departed for the happy hunting 
 grounds. Pocahontas, who married an English- 
 man named Koalfe, was reputed to have belonged 
 to this nomad tribe. She was for some years in 
 England, and rumour said that she was still 
 living in a large cypress swamp to the south 
 
264 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 of Lake Okeechobee, called the Everglades. If 
 this were correct, she must have reached a ripe 
 old age, as her visit to England took place 
 before the marriage of our Queen. 
 
 The Seminoles, though now friendly, fought 
 gallantly under Tallahassee against the whites, 
 and it took the American troops some years 
 before they were enabled to thoroughly subdue 
 them. Whilst we were palavering with Tiger 
 and his followers a moccasin snake slipped off 
 the bank and commenced to swim the river. 
 With my first barrel and a charge of No. 4 shot 
 I only managed to wound him, and back he came 
 right at us. Luckily he was turned white side 
 up at a second attempt, and he floated down the 
 stream. The moccasins and rattlesnakes are the 
 most numerous and deadly of the Florida reptiles, 
 besides being exceedingly pugnacious, so it was 
 just as well we did not get to close quarters. 
 Having arranged with the Indians to bring us 
 some skins, we continued our journey down the 
 river into Lake Kissimmee, and camped under a 
 hummock on a fine rido;e of sand a hummock 
 
 o 
 
 being the local name for clumps of variegated 
 timber. 
 
 The next day, the 15th, we paddled down to 
 Floridelphia in time for the midday meal, and 
 
FLOR1DELPHIA 265 
 
 having arranged with our guide to meet us the 
 following day on one of the neighbouring lakes, 
 returned, meaning to ascend the Tiger Eiver. 
 But missing the entrance we were brought up in 
 the "bonnet" (waterlilies), so had to give it up 
 and make our way back to Floridelphia by the 
 light of a new moon. Early in the morning, 
 before daylight, we were forced to shift our 
 quarters, for a heavy sea got up, and our punt 
 became none too pleasant. After breakfast, 
 however, we took Louis, a "cracker" (i.e. one 
 of the local squatters, so dubbed on account of 
 their powers of manipulating the stock whip), as 
 guide, and started for Tiger Creek, which we 
 reached at noon, and at once commenced its 
 ascent, little dreaming of the difficulties we 
 should have to surmount, or the severe tax on 
 our powers of endurance that would be required 
 before arriving at its source. A strong current 
 had to be stemmed, the turns were both numerous 
 and sharp, and at times we were forced to use 
 both axe and saw where the channel was choked 
 with willow, bonnet, water-lettuce, flags, button- 
 wood, and maiden cane, whilst to make matters 
 extra pleasant, at the most critical part, with a 
 crack and a splash, overboard I went, if not 
 " amidst the sharks and whales," amidst the 
 
266 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 thousands of alligators and snakes which inhabited 
 the adjoining swamp. However, it is a long 
 lane that has no turning, and we at last entered 
 Tiger Lake, and skirting its eastern shore, 
 beached the punt whilst Louis went off to a log- 
 hut for a few necessaries. During the time he 
 was away I took the opportunity of replenishing 
 our larder, and managed to bag half-a-dozen 
 snipe a welcome addition, but one which very 
 nearly cost me my life, for in struggling through 
 some flags to gather one of my birds, my foot 
 came right on the top of a huge moccasin, who 
 was coiled up close to where it fell. Happily, 
 he was as much frightened as myself, and dived 
 out of sight instantly, at which I was very 
 grateful, for my legs were bare, and had he 
 bitten me it would without doubt have been 
 fatal. On Louis's return we pulled round the 
 lake till near Rosalie Creek, where we camped 
 after dark, and spent a most unpleasant night, 
 being much worried by ants, to say nothing of 
 
 an aggressive centipede, on which S nearly 
 
 put his hand. Saturday, the 17th, we were up 
 before sunrise, and had a fruitless tramp of four 
 hours through the swamp after deer and turkey. 
 Probably old Tallahassee's hunters had been 
 before us, as we saw plenty of signs, but beyond 
 
LOOKING OUT FOB SPOET 267 
 
 that nothing. The timber and undergrowth in 
 the swamp was very fine, consisting of three 
 different kinds of oak, black and bay gum, maple, 
 ash, wild mulberry, pine, palmetta, and saw 
 grass. After this we shifted camp, and all three 
 took a stroll for duck and snipe, though what 
 Louis expected to kill with a Winchester rifle, 
 which was the weapon he selected, was only 
 known to himself. That night we were visited 
 by one or more members of the rat tribe, who 
 managed to make a tolerable supper of three 
 courses, viz. one boot, one sock, and one gaiter. 
 Next morning we returned in the teeth of a 
 stiff breeze to Tiger Creek, and the steadiness of 
 the punt in a nasty choppy sea quite astonished 
 us. The unfortunate Louis proved himself a 
 thorough landsman, and kept on bemoaning his 
 hard fate, wishing between the paroxysms of 
 sea-sickness that he was once again driving cows. 
 Once he nearly came into collision with a 
 moccasin snake in some bonnet, which fairly 
 frightened him out of his life, and had the 
 desired effect of keeping him a little quieter. 
 On this journey I did not fall overboard, but 
 varied the performance by stepping with my 
 naked foot on to the spoon bait, and then, while 
 trying to extricate the barb, drove the tail hooks 
 
268 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE 
 
 into my other ankle. It may be imagined after 
 this I was grateful to an Indian who accepted 
 the machine as a present, and who certainly 
 rated it far above its value. That afternoon we 
 bid farewell to our guide, as we discovered that 
 his knowledge of cooking far exceeded that of 
 venery, and that his ability in emptying the pot 
 was well in advance of his powers of replenishing 
 the same. 
 
 In the evening we lit our fire close to where 
 we had previously camped in the angle of two 
 huge branches of a fallen oak, and were shortly 
 afterwards joined by Tom Tiger and his nephew. 
 We then proceeded to look for our supper, and 
 were fortunate in shooting a couple of duck, 
 which Tom and his relative helped to devour. 
 Before supper commenced, however, the former 
 gentleman amused himself by enshrouding his 
 athletic form in my Inverness cape, and then 
 suddenly remarked 
 
 " You got yellow fever ? " some rumour of that 
 disease, which had been raging in Tampa, having 
 evidently reached his ears. 
 
 " No," I replied. 
 
 " Aha," rejoined Tom with pride, " I got 
 measles," and removing the cape and opening 
 the front of his hunting shirt, he showed me a 
 
A NARROW SHAVE 269 
 
 plentiful crop of spots. " You think me bad ? 
 What medicine I take ? " he then asked. But I 
 was too flabbergasted to reply, for the Inverness 
 was my only robe de unit, and I foresaw that I 
 must either make up my mind to go without it, 
 and thereby contract a certain cold, or else run 
 the chance of catching the measles by wearing 
 it. Eventually the latter course was adopted, 
 happily without any evil results. 
 
 In the middle of the night I was awakened 
 by a heavy thud close to my right ear, and start- 
 ing up found that our fire had undermined the 
 branches of the oak, and that one of them had 
 fallen with tremendous force within a foot from 
 my head on to my rug, a jagged branch driving 
 it quite half a yard into the ground. Had it been 
 a few inches to the left it would have converted 
 me into a jelly. This was about the narrowest 
 shave I ever had of visiting the Great Unknown, 
 except perhaps once, when a friend knocked over 
 
 a brave Portuguese just as he had got his knife 
 
 
 
 between my shoulder-blades. S , who had 
 
 coiled himself up in the punt for the night, also 
 had somewhat broken rest, for in the small hours 
 he suddenly found himself drifting out to sea, 
 and had a hard paddle to get back. After 
 breakfast we sculled to East Gardiner, where for 
 
270 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 the next few days my time was occupied in 
 supplying our larder with game from the prairie 
 
 and pine- wood swamps, S having injured 
 
 his foot, and consequently being unable to move 
 far from camp. Leaving Fort Gardner we were 
 taken in tow by the Arbuckle steamer, which 
 
 landed S at St. Elmo's wharf shortly after 
 
 midnight, and myself at Kissimmee City about 
 half-an-hour later. Kissimmee, notwithstanding 
 the high-sounding title of city, is nothing more 
 than a straggling village, whose morals are looked 
 after by a mayor and two policemen, or rather a 
 marshal and his assistant. Marshal Bailly was a 
 fine old Georgian who, besides being riddled with 
 Northern bullets while serving under Lee, was 
 ruined by the abolition of slavery without 
 compensation. However, we found him a host in 
 himself, and the short work he made of a rowdy 
 cowboy or a refractory nigger was beautiful to 
 behold. It seemed to me a pity we could not 
 hand over Trafalgar Square to his keeping for 
 a short time with the same freedom of action that 
 is extended to the constabulary of the Republic. 
 Here I remained for a short time before going on 
 to Cuba, feeling better in health than ever before 
 in my life ; and no wonder, for camping out in 
 the fine climate of a Florida winter is most 
 
A TRIP TO FLORIDA RECOMMENDED 271 
 
 enjoyable, and with a liberal commissariat, 
 consisting of fish, venison, and other varieties of 
 game supplied daily by rod and gun, supplemented 
 by a few tinned provisions, coffee, flour, rice, 
 potatoes, hog and hominy, which we took with 
 us. together with the constant exercise from 
 
 ' O 
 
 sunrise to sunset, sometimes commencing before 
 the former and ending after the latter, made one 
 feel like a new man. To any one who is fond of 
 sport, and is feeling a little out of sorts, a trip to 
 Florida may be confidently recommended. 
 
 When in Havana on my way home from 
 Florida, I not unnaturally desired to play some 
 part if possible in the bull-fights which take 
 place there. It would have been a pleasant 
 ending to the excellent small sport we had been 
 enjoying in America. There was a demand for 
 picadors, as a good many men employed in that 
 capacity had recently suffered severely and 
 fallen out of the ranks, but a very inadequate 
 supply. Kegarding this as a good opportunity 
 to " cut in," I offered my services as picador. 
 But the bull-fighters, if jealous of each other, 
 were even more so of a stranger and outsider. 
 They traded on their reputation of being the 
 only people who could face the bull, and they 
 would no doubt have lost prestige if an outsider 
 
272 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 had been allowed to act as picador, and had 
 proved at all successful in that capacity. Ac- 
 cordingly they would not hear of my taking any 
 part in the fight, and I was obliged to go away 
 unsatisfied. No Englishman had ever acted as 
 picador over there, and I had hoped to establish 
 a record and precedent. 
 
 This short sojourn in the West Indies reminded 
 me of sailoring days spent there more than 
 twenty years before, and especially of the shame- 
 ful way in which Governor Eyre was treated by, 
 one regrets to have to say, the English Govern- 
 ment. The controversy concerning Eyre was 
 re-opened only quite recently in one of the 
 newspapers, and a member of the Carlton Club 
 wrote vainly trying to prove that the leader and 
 instigator of the mutiny which, had it not been 
 effectually crushed out by the Governor's prompt- 
 ness, might have resulted in a general butchering 
 of all the whites in the island of Jamaica was 
 quite unjustly hanged. My memory is pretty 
 vivid in this matter, as we were almost in the 
 midst of the mutiny, and received the most 
 accurate account of all that took place. About 
 the guilt of the ringleader there can be no 
 possible shadow of doubt in the mind of people 
 really conversant with the affair ; though it may 
 
REMINISCENCE OF GOVERNOR EYHE 273 
 
 be admitted that there was a slight, or what may 
 be called a technical, irregularity in the way he 
 was captured and executed. The Mutiny Act 
 was not operative over the whole of the island, 
 and the leader of the rebellion was seized just 
 beyond the line where the Act ended. It was 
 somewhat like shooting a burglar a yard outside 
 your house, instead of actually within it. Eyre 
 probably saved the whites from a wholesale 
 slaughter, and in reward he was dismissed, and, 
 what was even worse, never given a post 
 elsewhere. The whole thing was a shocking 
 miscarriage of justice. Eyre was on one or 
 two occasions on board our ship to consult the 
 Admiral, and I recollect well enough taking 
 him ashore in the boat in my charge. 
 
 Though prevented from taking an active part 
 in the bull-fights in Havana, I saw several ex- 
 hibitions there, and later in Portugal. To many 
 English people, even sporting people, the idea of 
 going to a bull-fight as a spectator is a repellant 
 one. But we ought to clear our minds of cant 
 in discussing the frequently agitated question of 
 cruelty in sport. After seeing a good many 
 bull-fights, and talking with people who are well 
 versed in the matter, my conclusion is that it 
 entails far less cruelty than several sports which 
 
274 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE C&ESPIGNY 
 
 are in liigh favour in this country. Take battue 
 shooting, for instance. I am not going to preach 
 against it, by any means though I do consider 
 it a somewhat luxurious form of sport, and 
 infinitely prefer to make a small mixed bag over 
 a good dog but it is idle to gainsay the fact 
 that these monster days amongst feathered game 
 mean a great deal of acute suffering. How- 
 ever deadly the shots, a percentage of the birds 
 get wounded, and creep away out of reach of 
 beaters and game-gatherers to endure much 
 prolonged suffering. 
 
 Now in bull-fighting the pain endured by the 
 animals is probably small compared to that 
 endured by the wounded pheasants and hares. 
 There is no question whatever about the bull 
 itself thoroughly enjoying the sport. The 
 pheasant does not want to be shot at, nor the 
 fox to be hunted, but the bull does want to 
 fight. It is the beast's nature. He is pricked 
 a good deal, no doubt, and rendered furious in 
 consequence ; but what is his pain in compari- 
 son to that of a pheasant with a broken wing or 
 leg ? Next to nothing. Then as to the horses : 
 they are, it is true, injured, and finally killed. 
 I am the last in the world to view with approval 
 brutality towards horses, and should not fail to 
 

 BULL-FIGHTING 275 
 
 intervene where possible and practicable. , But 
 the lot of the horses used for bull-fighting 
 purposes is infinitely preferable to the lot of the 
 wretched animals that are doomed to drag the 
 ordinary Spanish diligence. Two blacks do not 
 make a white, but if you approve on behalf of 
 the horses of doing away with bull-fighting in 
 Spain, you ought to approve even more of re- 
 forming the existing state of things in regard to 
 the Spanish diligence. 
 
 The cruelty of the drivers is well-nigh incredi- 
 ble. It might almost disgust some of the worse 
 drivers of hansoms in London. The Jehu of the 
 diligence indeed knows no mercy, and many who 
 have travelled in Spain by road must have noted 
 the fact that when opportunity offers he will 
 usually prod the wretched animals on a sore place. 
 The stick with which he belabours his horses is of 
 a very hard wood, and used with no little force. 
 In a single stage a horse can, and often does, 
 suffer more pain than is likely to result from 
 the wounds received from a bull's horn in the 
 arena. 
 
 No doubt this view of bull-fighting is a 
 little out of the common. Bagot and Churston, 
 my shooting and yachting companions in the 
 Mediterranean, came to a very different opinion 
 
276 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 they had seen a fight at Malaga, which, 
 by the way, certainly does appear to have been 
 a very sanguinary affair; but, depend upon it, 
 there are plenty of people who, if they went 
 out shooting and saw hares and pheasants suffer, 
 would be quite as much upset by the sight as 
 by an ordinary bull-fight. Bull-fighting as prac- 
 tised in Portugal is certainly in some respects 
 a more artistic performance than that of Spain. 
 The horses used are much finer, and altogether 
 
 ' O 
 
 too good to be exposed to the certainty of 
 injury which the Spanish animals incur. The 
 riding too in these Portuguese performances is 
 very pretty. Bagot has given a good description 
 of a Lisbon fight in his little book on Shooting 
 and Yachting in the Mediterranean. 
 
 " After the usual preliminaries, and march 
 past," he writes, " the ring was cleared, and 
 in came El Toro with padded horns and a 
 piece of board strapped across his forehead. 
 Then appeared two Portuguese noblemen riding 
 their own horses (rare good-looking nags too), 
 and the fun commenced, the object of the riders 
 being to plant a small banderillo, in the shape 
 of a rosette, on the bull's head, and get away 
 before the bull knocked himself and horse head 
 over heels. There was some very pretty play 
 
A PORTUGUESE BULL-FIGHT 277 
 
 and good riding, and the entertainment was 
 varied with other feats, such as riding the 
 bull bare-backed, getting into a barrel, and 
 letting the animal roll it about the ring, vainly 
 trying to get at the man inside, who, having 
 made the bull perfectly furious, would wait 
 his opportunity, and jumping out run like a 
 hare for the barrier with Toro in hot pursuit. 
 One individual was just a moment too late, 
 and the bull caught him before he could get 
 over, and hove him fairly into the middle of 
 the spectators, following himself clean over 
 the barrier amid shouts of laughter. However, 
 nothing worse than a few bruises was the 
 result, and when we got back on board we 
 all agreed we had spent a very pleasant evening, 
 and that Lisbon bull-fighting is worth ten of 
 the Spanish performances." 
 
 In that excellent book, Wild Spain, Messrs. 
 Chapman and Back give a glowing picture of 
 the commencement of a Spanish bull-fight, 
 which will help to show even the most pre- 
 judiced that there is something in "tauro- 
 machia " other than brutality. " What a spec- 
 tacle," write these authors, " is presented by 
 the Plaza at this moment ! One without parallel 
 in the modern world. The vast amphitheatre, 
 
278 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE ORESPIGNY 
 
 crowded to the last seat in every bow and tier, 
 is held for some moments in breathless suspense : 
 above, a glorious canopy of an Andalucian 
 summer sky : below, on the yellow arena, rushes 
 forth the bull fresh from his distant prairie, 
 amazed yet undaunted by the unwonted sight 
 and the bewildering blaze of colour which 
 surrounds him. For one brief moment the 
 vast mass of excited humanity sits spellbound : 
 the clangour of myriads is stilled. Then the 
 pent-up cry bursts forth in frantic volumes, 
 for the gleaming horns have done their work, 
 and buen toro ! buen toro ! ring's from twice 
 
 o 
 
 ten thousand throats." 
 
 The performances which I witnessed at 
 Havana, and tried to take part in myself, 
 were only fairly good. There was a good deal 
 of carnage without any superlative display of 
 skill. The best men, as, for instance, Espartero, 
 who came by such a tragic end in the arena 
 at Madrid not a great while ago, or Xerezano 
 (that is, a man from Xeres), would not find it 
 worth their while to settle in Havana, when 
 they can make an income far exceeding that of 
 the best-salaried Spanish minister by staying at 
 home. A bull-fighter's income in Spain does 
 not compare ill with that of a first-class jockey 
 
A BULL-FIGHTEKS REPUTATION 279 
 
 on the flat in England. There is no doubt that 
 a great number of the habitues at the Spanish 
 bull-fights are of a decidedly brutal turn of 
 mind. As a very prominent and successful 
 bull-fighter remarked, they are never content 
 unless the most difficult and most dangerous 
 feats a man can accomplish in the arena are 
 constantly being repeated. If an espada, 
 having achieved a feat requiring a superlative 
 display of skill and courage, does not do the 
 same thing again when he next enters the arena, 
 the audience feel aggrieved ; whilst, if he 
 continues to attempt the same feat, he is almost 
 bound in the end to come by his death in the 
 arena. Having won a great reputation, the 
 bull-fighter cannot afford to rest on his laurels. 
 He must preserve it by constantly re-delighting 
 his admirers with his most daring and clever 
 devices, otherwise he will soon fall in .the 
 popular estimation. 
 
 To regard the Spanish bull-fight as a merely 
 brutal slaughter, without any redeeming feature, 
 is to show oneself ignorant of the sport, and 
 equally so of the history and traditions of this 
 ancient country. It is idle to deny that the 
 office of matador or espada, as well as that, 
 in a lesser degree, of picador, demand the 
 
280 MEMOIRS OF S1E CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 exercise of skill of the highest order, besides 
 bravery and perfect coolness. No Englishman, 
 who is accustomed to think highly of such 
 qualities, can see a first-class matador overcome 
 a very active and savage bull in the arena 
 without a strong feeling of admiration. A 
 matador carries his life in his hand, with a 
 vengeance, when, single-handed and on foot, 
 he challenges to mortal combat an infuriated 
 bull. Should his courage, or his eye, or his 
 feet fail him at the supreme moment, it is all 
 over. Mr. F. C. Selous recently related a 
 stirring adventure he once had with a wounded 
 lion. The animal, mad with pain and anger, 
 came rushing upon him with the evident 
 intention of exacting a deadly vengeance. Had 
 he turned and fled, or lost his nerve and 
 resource in any degree, probably nothing could 
 have saved him. But he stood perfectly still, 
 and merely yelled for the dogs to be let loose. 
 His boldness caused the red-hot courage of the 
 lion to cool, and the brute turned tail. There 
 were cheers when Mr. Selous reached this point 
 in his story. Englishmen cannot restrain a 
 feeling of generous admiration for conduct of 
 this kind, and they never will. Conceive then 
 what feelings must animate thousands of 
 
SKILL AND PLUCK OF BULL-FIGHTER 281 
 
 susceptible Spaniards, when they see one of 
 the popular favourites perform some feat in 
 the arena that requires an amount of bravery 
 at least equal to that needed by a lion-hunter, 
 and infinitely greater skill. The most exciting 
 of all sports are those in which the human 
 element plays the chief part, and in which the 
 greatest pluck and resource are called for. 
 Nothing in ancient or modern times, except 
 perhaps the exhibitions of the Eoman gladiators, 
 has ever come near a first-class Spanish bull- 
 fight in this respect. 
 
 Then again, people who are ready to stigmatize 
 the Spaniards as utterly brutal because they 
 love the bull-fight, have not perhaps considered 
 how inextricably bound up with the ancient 
 traditions and history of the country is the 
 art of " tauromachia." We often talk about 
 horse-racing as a national institution in England, 
 and it no doubt is so. Compared, however, 
 with the bull-fight, it is, after all, the merest 
 mushroom growth. Its traditions are great, 
 and it has numbered amongst its ardent 
 supporters not only princes of the royal blood, 
 but statesmen of the highest prominence and 
 popularity. But for centuries the chief per- 
 formers in the Spanish bull-fights were many 
 
282 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 of the foremost noblemen and grandees in the 
 country. It used indeed to be part of the 
 " liberal education " of a Spaniard of distinction 
 to have graduated in " tauromachia." Charles L, 
 grandson of Isabel, killed a bull in fair fight in 
 the arena in his day. 
 
 When the Bourbons succeeded to the throne 
 of Spain, bull-fighting gradually went out of 
 fashion amongst the Spanish nobility, that is 
 so far as the taking any personal part therein 
 as matador or picador was concerned. This was 
 not because the Bourbons were shocked at the 
 custom, but rather by reason of their effeminate 
 character. They " Frenchified " the Spanish 
 nobility in this and other provinces. But even 
 the secession of the nobles and grandees from 
 the arena could not lessen the popularity of the 
 bull-fight. There arose a class of professional 
 matadors or espadas who took their place, and 
 have ably filled it since. To judge by the 
 incomes these men earn, and the enormous 
 audiences that crowd to the various arenas to 
 witness first-class performances, bull-fighting has 
 quite as strong a hold on the affections of the 
 people to-day as it has had at any previous 
 period in the history of Spain. 
 
 One more word concerning the charge of 
 
PROFESSIONAL MATADORS 283 
 
 brutality which is brought against the Spanish 
 bull-fight, and I have done. To those who 
 do not even admit that in the toreo there is 
 frequently to be seen what has been well de- 
 scribed as "an unrivalled exhibition of human 
 skill, nerve, and power," it is no use appealing. 
 But the question may be asked of those who 
 do admit that great skill and pluck are shown 
 by the best espadas, whether pain inflicted 
 on the brute creation under these circumstances 
 is not, at any rate, more excusable than pain 
 inflicted where there is no such exhibition. 
 There is surely nothing in the nature of an 
 " unrivalled exhibition of human skill " in 
 potting pheasants, even if they are " rocketing " 
 birds. Moreover a wounded pheasant, in all 
 probability, suffers more pain, or, at any rate, 
 usually suffers it much longer, than a horse in 
 the Spanish bull-ring. We may feel for the 
 horse more because we esteem it as a much 
 better and more intelligent creature than the 
 bird ; then, too, the size of the creature injured 
 has a great deal to do with the size of our 
 grief. We forget how " the poor beetle, which 
 we tread upon, in corporal substance feels a 
 pang as great as when a giant dies." 
 
 Before arriving home I stayed both in Spain 
 
284 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 and Portugal. Whilst at Madrid, an attempt 
 was made to get up a little boxing match, in 
 which I was to play the part of a principal. 
 The fact was the chief picador, or the man who 
 in Portugal answers to the picador, was rather 
 a bully, and had on several occasions knocked 
 about the local police and other people into 
 the bargain. So there was a desire to enlist 
 some one who would " take it out " of him. 
 I was urged to take on this bullying bull- 
 fighter, and professed my willingness to give, 
 or receive, a hiding. But it came to nothing, 
 as the man would not be induced to risk his 
 big local reputation as a pugilist. 
 
 The 60th was at Gibraltar at this time, and 
 I accordingly stayed there a while on my return 
 home, and did some fox-hunting with the 
 Calpe Hounds. It is a rather poor substitute 
 for hunting with English packs. We were not 
 allowed to gallop over the cultivated ground, 
 and the " going," where one could ride, was 
 of a dreadful character, the ground being mostly 
 rocks. English horses could not stand it, but the 
 country-breds which were used were certainly 
 a very clever and useful breed. 
 
 I left Spain on January 31, 1888, arrived at 
 Plymouth on February 4, and after a day or 
 
I ARRIVE AT PLYMOUTH 285 
 
 two in town to see what there was to be seen 
 after my long stay abroad, returned home, 
 and recommenced fox-hunting. Frost militated 
 against steeplechasing, so there was no sport 
 for me to speak of till the Chelmsford meeting 
 on March 15, 1888, when I got home first in 
 the Galleywood Steeplechase on Brown Tommy 
 - my first win for a long while past. Descend- 
 ing the hill, we had to pull up and trot, so 
 deep and sticky had the Darby digger made 
 the stiff clay. In the ascent of the hill, the 
 three leading horses were rolling from distress 
 a terribly severe finish that ! Brown Tommy 
 was a ten to one chance. The Toad, ridden 
 by Mr. Tippler, led up the ploughed fields 
 closely accompanied by the favourite, Sir Harry 
 Selwin - Ibbetson's Burnouse, but soon after 
 turning into the straight run in, Brown Tommy 
 came to the front, and won by a little over 
 a length. 
 
 In my next steeplechase I again started the 
 outsider of the party, this time on Imogene. 
 It was March 27, and a cruel day too for 
 steeplechasing. A perfectly blinding snowstorm 
 swept over the course, and was twice straight 
 in our faces, so that we could not see our next 
 fence till close up to it. This was the Solent 
 
286 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Maiden Hunters' Steeplechase at the Grange 
 Club meeting. Imogene was trained at Arthur 
 Yates' stables, at Bishops Sutton. There were 
 two good jockeys in that race, Escott and 
 Dollery, but they certainly rode under great 
 disadvantages. Half-a-mile from home Imogene 
 came out full of running, and heading the 
 favourite, Cope (with Dollery up), won easily. 
 Didn't the bookies cheer as she came in ! 
 Imogene had probably not been backed at all, 
 as it was generally understood that Cope, which 
 had been backed for a lot of money at Sandown, 
 and was trained in the same stable, was much 
 the better. 
 
 On the same day I once more started at 
 ten to one, riding Spangle in the Alverstoke 
 Selling Hunters' Flat Eace. I had Spangle 
 on racing terms. He could only get placed 
 second, so my spell of good luck with rank 
 outsiders was broken. The race was won by 
 Sir I. Duke's Passing Shower, which started at 
 something like three to one on at all events 
 a hot favourite. There was chasing again next 
 day at Winchester, in which I scored nothing, 
 Imogene being very sore after her previous 
 exertions, and this ended my little Hampshire 
 riding expedition, with the exception of a couple 
 
BVNGAY STEEPLECHASES 287 
 
 of days' sport next month in the Isle of Wight. 
 There were the Castle Club races on one day, 
 and the Isle of Wight chases on another. 
 Spangle and another were schooled and sent 
 down for those events, but without any good 
 result. 
 
 Spangle, however, won the Tradesmen's Plate 
 a week later at the Bungay Steeplechases. It 
 was rather a good race that. Kelvin, the 
 favourite, ridden by Mr. C. Thompson, made a 
 desperate bid for victory, and once in the 
 straight Spangle having worked to the front 
 after blundering at one fence we had an ex- 
 citing race neck-and-neck almost up to the 
 post : won by half a length. Spangle was 
 disqualified a long while afterwards, as it turned 
 out that he was in the flat-race forfeit list. 
 
 To fall twice in a field of five and yet win 
 the race, is a thing one does not expect to do 
 often in a life- time. On May 3, 1888, I did 
 so, when riding Brown Tommy in the Essex 
 and Suffolk Hunt Cup at Colchester. Owing 
 to recent floods the course was in a very rotten 
 condition, and as a consequence every horse but 
 one came down ! Five started, namely, Captain 
 Hawkshaw's Lady Cherry, ridden by owner ; Mr. 
 Wright's Patrician, ridden by owner; Mr. Dun- 
 
288 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 net's The Toad, ridden by Mr. Percy Tippler ; 
 Mr. Charteris' Countess, ridden by owner ; and 
 Brown Tommy. They laid six to four on 
 the last-named. Countess alone kept up, but 
 she ran off the course. Brown Tommy won by 
 a distance. 
 
 I rode in all the races but one that day. In 
 the East Essex Hunt Cup, won by Mr. Colvin 
 with Cossack, the second favourite, Zither, 
 refused ; nor could I do anything in the Middle- 
 wick Cup won by Hochheimer, which Mr. Percy 
 Tippler steered to victory. In the Military 
 Steeplechase, Cerise, with myself up, walked over. 
 Four horses entered for the race, including my 
 own ; Coloony did not start. All the favourites, 
 save Cossack, the second favourite, won that 
 day. 
 
 The summer, autumn, and winter of 1888 
 were spent between Essex, Hampshire, Portugal, 
 Spain, France, and London. But there was no 
 riding to speak of in any of these places. 
 .Reference has been made in this book to the 
 difficulty of keeping oneself thoroughly fit when 
 leading a London life. About this period I 
 discovered a pleasant way of getting exercise, 
 namely, sculling on the Serpentine. It may be 
 strongly recommended to jockeys, and, for the 
 
SCULLING ON THE SERPENTINE 289 
 
 matter of that, to anybody who cares for aquatic 
 exercise. You may frequently have the Serpen- 
 tine to yourself in the early morning, for very 
 few people seem to care for rowing and sculling 
 there except the shop-assistants and their lasses 
 on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. One other 
 cross-country rider has occasionally sculled on 
 the Serpentine to keep himself fit, namely, 
 Koddy Owen ; whilst only a few hours before 
 his death I met Sir Robert Peel on the banks 
 in his whites, though I cannot say whether he 
 was going on the water. There is also swimming 
 to be got in the Serpentine, or Long Water, as 
 all the world knows, at certain hours, even in 
 the depth of winter. I asked a friend to enter 
 me for the contest held there last Christmas day, 
 and as I should probably have been made limit 
 man owing to age, ought to have had a good 
 chance of winning. But he could not find out 
 about it in time, and the opportunity passed. 
 Even those who love neither bicycle nor 
 tricycle may admit that wheeling is another 
 excellent way of keeping fit when in London 
 for any length of time. Not a few officers in 
 the Guards may now be seen disporting them- 
 selves on " safeties," and amongst other ardent 
 
 cyclists is one whom you might imagine the last 
 
 u 
 
290 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE 
 
 person in the world to enjoy himself in this 
 style, namely, Lord Queen sherry. " Q," as his 
 intimate friends call him, spun up a little while 
 ago from the Star and Garter, Kichmond, to his 
 place in town in forty minutes. A punch-ball 
 used to be one of his favourite methods of 
 taking exercise, and that, again, if one has a 
 suitable room for it, is a rare good way of 
 keeping oneself fit in town. 
 
 Friends often chaff me about my habit of 
 taking exercise in all manner of queer ways, 
 and for going out for a walk or run with- 
 out a hat. Now Sir Thomas Barrett-Lennard, 
 of Belhus hunters' fame, did really take his 
 exercise in an uncommon manner. When he 
 felt that he was growing too fat, he would 
 take off his coat and waistcoat, put them in 
 his carriage, and run home briskly by the side 
 of the horses. Sir Thomas was so fond of doing 
 this kind of thing at all hours, that more than 
 once he was chased by his own keepers, and on 
 one occasion all but run in by a vigilant policeman, 
 who actually captured the coatless baronet, and 
 was not for some time to be persuaded that 
 his doings were of a lawful character. 
 
 Sometimes I was yacht-racing in the orthodox 
 fashion in the Solent (when I usually managed 
 
VARIED AMUSEMENTS 291 
 
 to go to sleep during what to some appeared the 
 exciting part of the day) ; at others playing 
 racquets, a grand game at which I have usually 
 managed to hold my own, though certainly not 
 a " flier " ; and at others, again, turning up at 
 bull-fights in the Peninsula, or races in France. 
 But in the spring of 1889 I addressed myself 
 again to steeplechasing, taking part chiefly in 
 East of England meetings. At Colchester, 
 Woodbridge, and Ipswich, I rode without 
 winning anything, and on May 2 we had our 
 own steeplechases. 
 
 In the summer of 1889 I tried to make up 
 for my rather unsuccessful chasing season in the 
 earlier part of the year, by sport in the water. 
 I won a veterans' swimming race in Essex, and 
 on the following day went to sea in an open 
 boat. 
 
 It has been suggested that I may to a certain 
 degree have inherited my love for, and ease 
 in, the water from my grandfather. Captain 
 Augustus de Crespigny was known by the 
 sobriquet of "the Newfoundland Dog/' owing 
 to the number of lives he had saved. In 
 those days they did not give away medals for 
 the saving of life in quite the lavish style 
 they do now. It was then not only a great 
 
292 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 but a rare distinction to gain the medal of the 
 Eoyal Humane Society. For instance, in one 
 year only two men won it, namely, my grand- 
 father and Richard de Saumarez. Curiously 
 enough, a de Crespigny and a de Saumarez were 
 awarded the medal at a much later period. De 
 Saumarez, it should be added, got also the 
 Albert Medal. He effected a rescue in the 
 Canton river in the face of great danger, there 
 being sharks all around him as he swam. 
 
 On one occasion Augustus de Crespigny 's 
 enterprise in saving life at sea won him the 
 generous admiration of the Commander of the 
 French Fleet, engaged with our own at the 
 time in an action off Cadiz, in the year 1810. 
 Augustus went to the rescue of five men, who 
 were in imminent danger of being drowned owing 
 to the sinking of the Achilles' barge. To 
 accomplish his purpose the rescuer had to pull 
 under the very muzzles of the enemy's guns. 
 The French Commander happened to be an eye- 
 witness of the incident, and was so pleased with 
 the conduct of my ancestor that he at once bade 
 his men desist from firing. 
 
 To the luxury and ease of the orthodox style 
 of yachting I never could take very kindly, 
 though from time to time a little of it has come 
 
GOING TO SEA IN AN OPEN BOAT 293 
 
 my way. As practised at the present day it 
 is altogether too destitute of adventuresomeness. 
 Everything is done for one by the crew, and as 
 a consequence it tends to inaction and inglorious 
 ease. But going to sea in an open boat, or even 
 cruising about in a small yacht, and doing the 
 major portion of the navigation with one's own 
 hands and head, is a vastly different matter. 
 For the former I have always had a distinct 
 taste, which was not even cured by an adventure 
 in 1889. I had been out in a small boat from 
 Portsmouth on that day with my wife and -a 
 friend. As the afternoon advanced and it came 
 on to blow, I put in and landed them at 
 Langston Harbour, and then put out to sea 
 again, intending to get into Portsmouth that 
 evening. But it came on very choppy, and as 
 a result I spent the whole of the night tacking 
 about Spithead, with a dingy in tow, which greatly 
 increased my difficulties. Of all forsaken places, 
 Spithead at night to a man in an open boat, very 
 hungry, and with nothing but a bit of brown 
 bread to munch, is about the worst. I finally 
 anchored off the New Pier at daybreak. 
 
 In June 1889 I procured a ship's gig, made 
 her more or less seaworthy, and set out from 
 Heybridge with a man-servant who was much 
 
294 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 more at home with a horse than in a boat as 
 crew. I managed the navigation myself, and 
 before Westgate was reached we had gone 
 through a series of interesting adventures. We 
 ran ashore four times, carrying away bowsprit, 
 after-shrouds, main and top-sail sheets, and 
 splitting the mainsail. The 28-footer, however, 
 which was named the Star, held out gallantly, 
 and after putting out my man, to his obvious 
 relief, at "Westgate, and having the Star 
 repaired by a coast-guardsman, I again went on 
 my watery way rejoicing, and bound for Ports- 
 mouth. I was out by night as well as day, 
 and before reaching her destination the poor 
 Star was little better than a wreck. At Shore- 
 ham my wife came aboard, and went on with 
 me to Portsmouth, though the accommodation 
 on the boat was not very tempting for ladies. 
 
 Another time my son and I successfully crossed 
 the Channel from Folkestone to Boulogne in 
 half a orale in a small boat, though it seemed 
 
 O ' O 
 
 once or twice as though we must get capsized. 
 My father, by the way, made rather a famous 
 passage across the Atlantic in a yacht of ninety 
 tons, called the Kate. He was in the company 
 of Sir S. Clarke, and the trip was talked and 
 written of a good deal, because the Kate, was 
 
TRIP WITH THE 1 STAR> 295 
 
 the smallest yacht which had up to that time 
 crossed the Atlantic. The Kate still exists, and 
 is worked at the present time as a fruit- vessel 
 rather a come-down. 
 
 At one time during the Star trip I came to 
 the conclusion, knowing the coast pretty well, 
 that we must be hard by the Keculvers, where 
 there are some rocks, so trusted my man with 
 the helm, telling him to steer whilst I examined 
 the chart. It was night-time, and the work of 
 examining the chart was not easy. After a few 
 minutes' searching I became aware that we were 
 boxing the compass, so wild was the steer- 
 ing. I then saw that it was perfectly hopeless 
 leaving my companion at the helm even for 
 the shortest time, and resumed it myself, re- 
 marking cheerfully, " Well, we'll chance it : I 
 can swim all right myself." We escaped the 
 rocks, perhaps more by good luck than good 
 judgment. My companion, when safely ashore, 
 let it be understood that he was very glad he 
 had been once to sea in an open boat, as it 
 was a thing to have done, but vowed that 
 he had no intention of ever trying it again. 
 Considering that he could not swim a stroke, 
 and that on the first day we begun by split- 
 ting our mainsail, it was not altogether to be 
 
296 MEMOIRS OF SIE CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 wondered at that lie resolved in future to stick 
 to terra firma. Had he accompanied me the 
 whole way to Southsea, the last state of that 
 man would probably have been worse than 
 the first. 
 
 After leaving Eamsgate at three in the morn- 
 ing, I was for twenty hours at the helm. At 
 length at Eastbourne sleep claimed me for its 
 own, and I dozed off, but woke presently to 
 find myself half overboard. 
 
 A rather eventful trip was that in a little 
 half-decked craft called the B'nita, which a 
 friend was so good as to lend. My companion 
 in this case was, however, a man who well 
 understood navigation, so that the entire burden 
 did not fall on my own shoulders. We set sail 
 from Southampton in the middle of May 1890, 
 our destination being Plymouth. Starting at 
 about ten a.m. we were caught in a storm of 
 wind and furious rain in the afternoon, and 
 had to put into Christchurch as best we could 
 at five o'clock. It blew W.S.W. so hard next 
 day that it was not possible to leave till the 
 morning after. It was blowing very hard again 
 when we reached St. Albans Head, where we 
 had to drift through stern foremost. Ulti- 
 mately we got into a harbour, which neither 
 
SOUTHAMPTON TO PLYMOUTH 297 
 
 of us could at first recognize. It turned out 
 to be Torbay. 
 
 The wind, which was blowing quite a hurri- 
 cane in the night, played havoc with the little 
 craft. By 1.30 a.m. it had carried away bow- 
 sprit and top-mast. I was lying down asleep 
 for awhile when this wreckage was going on, 
 but was roughly awakened by a broken spar, 
 which threatened to knock a hole in the boat. 
 We then had to clear away the ruined gear 
 and get inside the breakwater. But this was 
 about the toughest, and not the least risky, 
 job of the kind which I have ever experienced 
 in a small boat. After a struggle, however, 
 we managed to get inside, and were then all 
 right. It had taken about three-quarters of 
 an hour to get a matter of two hundred yards, 
 or thereabouts, so strong was the wind. Shortly 
 after daylight we were at length able to land. 
 The poor B'nita looked a perfect wreck, so 
 much so that it is questionable whether her 
 owner would have recognized her in her sad 
 plight. We waited next day for a new bow- 
 sprit, and for the wind to moderate. Starting 
 from Torbay at 10.20 a.m. on May 22, the 
 seventh day after leaving Southampton, we 
 arrived at Keyham, and made fast to a buoy 
 
298 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 by nine o'clock that night, and anchored at the 
 Cutwater on the 23rd. Early in June I 
 returned to Devonshire, and brought the Bnita 
 to Covves. The passage back was accomplished 
 without any adventure or incident of particular 
 interest. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 FROM EGYPT TO EPSOM 
 
 Off to Egypt The Dervish raid War correspondent to the 
 Pink'un A sultry time and a weary wait The Rapids 
 of the Nile A swimming adventure Is the Nile 
 dangerous? The Chesil Beach A precious possession 
 of every good Englishman Up-stream in a felucca 
 A little mutiny An unwelcome sight The fun all 
 finished Arabic melody A narrow shave Major 
 Turnbull's fate With Don Carlos A trip in the B'nita 
 A familiar course Correze Birthday mounts A 
 fall at Lingfield and a speedy recovery Two old jockeys 
 and horses Notable soldier riders Billy Morris or 
 Morgan A run of poor luck A heavy fall at 
 Windsor A judge who failed. 
 
 IN July 1889 I started for Egypt as a volunteer 
 to join General Sir F. Grenfell, a fellow-officer 
 in the 60th Eifles in India. An engagement 
 had already taken place between the British 
 troops under Colonel Wodehouse and a Dervish 
 force at Argain. The latter were defeated 
 and driven to the hills, but not without some 
 severe fighting, as the total loss of British 
 
300 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPI&NY 
 
 troops showed no less than six hundred and 
 seventy being on the list of killed and wounded. 
 The Dervishes continued hostilities from their 
 mountain fortresses, and it was accordingly 
 decided to send out reinforcements under Sir 
 F. Grenfell. The opportunity for volunteering 
 seemed a really promising one, so on July 111 
 hurried up to town, took my ticket for Egypt, 
 got together with all despatch a small kit, and 
 started for the East on the following morning. 
 There was not an hour to be lost, if one was to 
 make sure of getting to the front whilst hostilities 
 were still going on. Brindisi was reached on 
 July 14, and left at midnight on the same day. 
 Just outside Brindisi the train caught fire, and 
 we all but missed the steamer. The mail indeed 
 passed us as we were engaged in putting out the 
 flames. Curiously enough, a few days afterwards 
 we were in another fire outside Assouan : some 
 cocoanut matting for camels got ablaze and burnt 
 with great rapidity. On the 18th we arrived at 
 Isma'ilia on board the P. and 0. steamship 
 Peninsular, and a special train conveyed us 
 thence to Cairo. Here I stopped the night at 
 General Sir J. Dormer's, dining with General 
 de Montmorency, who was preparing to join 
 Grenfell at Assouan in the course of the next 
 
ANXIOUS FOR ACTIVE SERVICE 301 
 
 few days. The, General entertained us at the 
 Khedivial Sporting Club, the menu of which was 
 irreproachable. The dinner was an al fresco 
 one, and a more enjoyable evening can scarcely 
 be imagined. We sat drinking our coffee and 
 smoking our cigarettes in the midst of most 
 charming scenery. I left Cairo on July 19, in 
 the company of Hickman of the 19th Eegiment, 
 who was attached to the Egyptian army, and 
 reaching Assiot, embarked on board the Tanjore. 
 We passed Mensheyah, Keneh, and other ports 
 where there were troops ready for action, and 
 arrived at Assouan on the 23rd. After dinner 
 that evening with the Egyptian mess, I saw 
 Grenfell, who accorded me a hearty welcome. 
 
 It was when we were bathing next day in the 
 Nile that my desire to get to the front and see 
 active service in some capacity or other was 
 broached. To my chagrin the Sirdar pointed 
 out that it was impossible for him to allow any 
 one not attached to the Army of Occupation to 
 do this. " The only way," said he, " you can ac- 
 complish your ambition is to get some English 
 newspaper to appoint you its special corre- 
 spondent." The Toski affair was so sudden and 
 so soon over, that none of the great dailies 
 though there was time and to spare sent out a 
 
302 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 representative. Now "the Shifter" had actually 
 asked me to send to his paper any items of 
 interest from the scene of action, so playing my 
 last card I said to Grenfell, " I am war corre- 
 spondent of the PiriKun" He could not help 
 laughing at this, but thought, with due respect 
 to the paper in question, that such a qualification 
 could scarcely be allowed to pass muster. What 
 was to be done ? Happy thought ! Wire to 
 Lady de Crespigny and get her to find me an 
 appointment. Pending a reply, the only thing 
 to do was to fret in inaction at Assouan, and, 
 what was worse, to see Grenfell off on July 29 
 from Shellal, beyond which point it was not 
 permissible to advance. " I think Njumi," said 
 Grenfell as he departed, " is in a hurry to get to 
 Paradise, and that we can accommodate him." It 
 was pretty clear indeed to most of us that Njumi 
 was playing a very risky game, and one likely 
 to get him into an awkward fix. He would have 
 been wiser to have taken up a position at Abou 
 Simbel, where he might have given the Sirdar 
 a good deal more trouble. 
 
 All this while the heat was frightful. I can 
 stand a fair amount of roasting myself, but had 
 to admit that Assouan was the vilest spot I had 
 ever been in. There were no Eastern appliances 
 
A WEARY WAIT 303 
 
 for keeping oneself cool. The one cooling thing 
 to do was to lie down in the muddy old Nile, 
 which was not even fringed at Assouan with 
 bulrushes. Whilst waiting at Assouan we 
 heard that our troops had captured Njumi's head 
 doctor. This man's methods were simplicity 
 itself, his rule being kill or cure. The doctor's 
 stock-in-trade consisted of a barrel of oil and a 
 long knife. If the former failed to cure the sick 
 he cut their throats with the latter, and so 
 prevented the hospitals becoming too crowded. 
 
 I filled in the time after seeing Grenfell off, 
 and whilst waiting a reply from Lady de Cres- 
 pigny, by a trip or two up the river in the 
 steamers Okmeh and Amkeh, and by accompany- 
 ing some of the troops who had not yet pushed on. 
 All the Mounted Infantry were still at Assouan 
 at the commencement of August, together with 
 some of the cavalry and two companies of the 
 Welsh regiment. A ride down the Nile to meet 
 the infantry was rather a pleasant manner of 
 passing away the time. Skirting the river, we 
 had to pick our way rather carefully under the 
 date-trees, amongst the innumerable native huts 
 
 ' O 
 
 and wells, but were able to return at a swinging 
 canter along the cultivated land on the edge 
 of the desert, with the irrigation ditches for 
 
304 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNT 
 
 obstacles. Right cleverly the little Arab horses 
 negotiated these ditches. You might almost 
 have imagined yourself at times schooling on 
 Epsom Downs ! 
 
 On other days the cataract was ascended in 
 the two vessels referred to. The Okmeh got 
 through without a mishap, but the Amkeh was 
 not so fortunate. She struck the rocks several 
 times, and must have filled a good percentage of 
 her twenty-four compartments. As one steams, 
 the distance from Assouan to Philse is seven 
 miles, the rise being seventeen feet. A stern- 
 wheeler is capable of making fair headway 
 except up the narrow gut of the rapid, which 
 is 250 yards long. To pass this we required 
 some hundreds of Egyptian soldiers on our bow- 
 rope, and as many Berberines under the sheik of 
 the cataract on our four guy-ropes. On the 
 second day the bow-hawser and a wire guy-rope 
 suddenly snapped simultaneously, and at a 
 critical moment. We looked perilously like 
 getting broadside on and capsizing, after the 
 fashion of the ill-fated gunboat Kirbacan. That 
 vessel, it may be recollected, was raised at a cost 
 of some thousands, and then sold to Messrs. 
 Cook for 100. We eventually got out of our 
 difficulties, and passed the rapids, to the astonish- 
 
THE RAPIDS OF THE NILE 305 
 
 ment apparently of the natives, who cheered 
 loudly. 
 
 These rapids have long borne amongst 
 Englishmen an evil reputation for danger. It 
 was during our trip on the Amkeh, and whilst 
 waiting for a native boat to get out of the way, 
 that I landed and ran up the side of the rapid 
 with the determination to test the matter on 
 my own account. The question of whether or 
 no it was possible to dive into the rapids, swim 
 down the narrow gut, and land without assist- 
 ance, had already been discussed between 
 myself and several of the officers. It was 
 asserted that only one Englishman, or more 
 properly Scotchman, namely Montgomery, K.N., 
 the boxer, had ever made the attempt, and that 
 he had not actually swum the narrowest part of 
 the gut, but had put his swimming powers to the 
 test further down the rapids ; nor did the natives 
 in my presence, notwithstanding their fine swim- 
 ming powers, ever dive in and swim down at this 
 particular point. But I resolved to make the 
 attempt, so dived in and swam down the narrow 
 gut to within a few yards of the exit. Then having 
 gone far enough to convince myself and others 
 that the thing was quite practicable, it only 
 remained to get into one of the eddies at the 
 
306 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 side, and so into the quiet water, where a landing 
 was effected with ease. The rush of the water 
 in the narrow gut is tremendous, but it is not 
 broken, as, for instance, below the Niagara Falls ; 
 and the one thing necessary was to keep oneself 
 afloat, and to nicely calculate the force of the 
 stream so as to be able to get into the quiet 
 water. I was in excellent condition at the time, 
 and therefore felt absolutely no fatigue, and 
 after landing walked back to the boat. 
 
 The chief danger incurred by a strong swimmer 
 in these Nile rapids is that of being, through an 
 evil chance, drawn into a whirlpool before he 
 can get a full breath. Personally, I have swum 
 in almost all parts of the world, arid in every 
 variety of water, and don't think the Nile is 
 so particularly dangerous, although the natives 
 have an idea that if a man once dives down he 
 can never come up again alive. As for the 
 crocodile danger it is nil, at any rate at this 
 point in the river. Besides, crocodiles are like 
 bears they much prefer clearing out of a man's 
 way to attacking him. They invariably do so 
 on land, and, I believe, statements notwith- 
 standing to the contrary, that their behaviour 
 is much the same in the water. Sharks too 
 often act in a similar manner. When stationed 
 
THE CHESIL BEACH 307 
 
 at Barbadoes we used to bathe on one side of 
 the bay in perfect safety, though it would have 
 been great folly to bathe on the other, because 
 there the sharks fed on the offal from the 
 slaughter-house, and were ravenous for blood. 
 
 The Nile incident was talked about a great 
 deal at the time, and, so far as I know to the 
 contrary, it has never been repeated. But I 
 achieved a more difficult, though perhaps a 
 less sensational, bit of swimming once at 
 Portland. 
 
 There is a beach there called the Chesil, on 
 which the surf beats with great force. So 
 furious, when there is a sea on, is the suction of 
 the retreating waves, which tear down with them 
 the beach, that it has usually been considered 
 quite impossible for even the strongest swimmer 
 to effect a landing. When it was known that I 
 had resolved to essay the task, a boat was in 
 readiness to effect a rescue if necessary. A 
 tripper had got into trouble at the Chesil only 
 the day before, and it was therefore deemed 
 wise to take precautions. I went out through 
 the waves, and then in coming back hovered as 
 it were pretty close to the shingle, waiting for a 
 small wave to get in with. A few short, quick 
 strokes brought me in with the fifth or sixth 
 
308 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 wave a small one and I succeeded in running 
 up on to the beach, although the shingle rolled 
 away a good deal from under my feet. The use 
 of the head and the feet was more necessary 
 than that of the arms. Daring heavy storms 
 the strength of the waves at this place is pro- 
 digious ; and tradition has it that a ship was 
 once swept clean over the Chesil Beach and 
 into the Bay. 
 
 A good many people, having heard often 
 through unreliable sources of these and other 
 adventures, have chosen to set me down as either 
 a man quite reckless of life and limb, or an 
 advertiser on a big scale. To have won, even 
 without meriting it, either of, these reputations 
 is scarcely a matter to be " wept with tears of 
 blood." There is at least nothing dishonourable 
 in holding one's life cheap, however small the 
 stake played for ; whilst in an age of self- 
 advertisement some tolerance ought to be ex- 
 tended to one who makes himself known by 
 courting danger whether in earth, sea, or sky. 
 As a matter of fact, I cannot lay claim to either 
 distinction, having never actually courted danger 
 for its own sweet sake ; and never risked my life 
 and limb for the paltry purposes of self-advertise- 
 ment. However, there is a wide difference 
 
ENGLISHMEN'S INDIFFERENCE TO DANGER 309 
 
 between risking .your life through pure ignorance 
 of its value, and shunning danger when by so 
 doing you must soil the escutcheon of bravery, 
 which should be the most precious possession of 
 every good Englishman. Indifference to danger 
 in a good cause, and especially where a man's 
 honour is at stake, is absolutely essential. Could 
 our ancestors, the makers of England, had they 
 not been actuated by some such principle as this, 
 have put together this great Empire ? Surely 
 never ! 
 
 This may seem no more than a truism, save 
 perhaps to that miserable party of men known 
 as the " little Englanders." For myself, I must 
 go further, and declare that it is necessary, unless 
 we are to perish like the Eomans in the lap of 
 peace and luxury, that some of us should strive to 
 keep alive the reputation which Englishmen have 
 always had of greatly daring and suffering all 
 things. Surely where there is a daring deed to 
 be done in any part of the world, an Englishman 
 should leap to the front to accomplish it. 
 
 It needs but little reading between the lines 
 to discover a sentiment similar to this running 
 through much of the best patriotic literature of 
 our country, and through almost every page of 
 our history. Deeds of daring strewn so plenti- 
 
310 MEMOIRS OF SIU CLAUDE DE 
 
 fully through the story of England impart to it 
 an imperishable glamour. The heroic exploits of 
 Eichard the Lion-hearted must appeal to young 
 hearts for ever, as must the courage of Falkland 
 and many another great Englishman on the field 
 of battle. Even from those who swear by 
 Cromwell, and condemn the Stuarts and all their 
 ways, the despairing courage of the Cavaliers and 
 of the Jacobites may almost draw a tear. The 
 charge of the Light Brigade down the North 
 Valley, was it wild and useless ? Yes, it may 
 have been, but no brighter gem sparkles in the 
 crown of the nation. 
 
 Swimming and riding were "fcll very well in 
 their way, but it was not exactly for these 
 pursuits that I had come out to Egypt. It 
 was therefore a cause for rejoicing when 
 the message came from my wife that I was 
 appointed to act as Special Correspondent of 
 the East Anglian Daily Times. We had 
 already heard various rumours concerning 
 Njumi and his movements. One was to the 
 effect that his health was good, and that he 
 was still advancing ; whilst another asserted 
 that he was badly diseased, and had to be 
 carted about in a barrel of butter an awkward 
 position for the leader of a Dervish raid. It 
 
UP THE NILE IN A FELUCCA 311 
 
 would now be possible to get to the front, and 
 find out the true state of things. 
 
 So at length, after more than a week's anxious 
 waiting, I was able to tell De Montmorency of 
 my appointment, and on Saturday, August 3, to 
 wire to Grenfell to the same effect ; and then to 
 start up the Nile in a felucca from Shellal, which 
 was reached from Assouan by train. We reached 
 Abuhor, a distance of forty-eight) miles, on the 
 first day; Kostambe, a distance of sixty -three, 
 on the second; and Tabbel, eighty-eight miles, 
 on the third, which was Bank Holiday. Before 
 this a hitch had occurred. The crew got fairly 
 beaten owing to the-amount of work they had 
 to do when the wind dropped. What was to 
 be done ? The captain and owner of the 
 felucca recommended that the sheik of a village 
 we had reached should be asked to supply men 
 to tow us up to the next village. The sheik 
 was approached and declined, saying he had no 
 spare men. Fortunately I was armed with a 
 Colt's revolver, and I asked, " Shall I shoot the 
 fellow if he persists in his present attitude ? " 
 The reply was prompt and decisive, " Certainly, 
 shoot him." The rascally sheik was informed 
 of my intention to shoot him for insubordination 
 if he did not instantly alter his tactics. In a 
 
312 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 moment his demeanour underwent an entire 
 change. Nothing could exceed his desire to 
 oblige in every respect, and accommodate himself 
 to my requirements. After the revolver argu- 
 ment had entered into the controversy there 
 were any number of men at every village ready 
 to tow us along where a fair wind was lacking. 
 As a result we actually kept for awhile well 
 ahead of the Army of Occupation, which was 
 advancing in steamers under De Montmorency. 
 
 On my way up the Nile I seriously considered 
 whether it might not prove of real assistance to 
 Grenfell to cut the telegraph wires. It was 
 the recollection of the way in which Sir Evelyn 
 Wood had been hampered and harassed in Africa 
 by the Government a few years before, that made 
 me think about this ; but going into the matter, 
 it occurred to me that in the case of Sir Evelyn 
 Wood, Mr. Gladstone held the reins ; whilst Lord 
 Salisbury was now in power, and not very likely 
 to repeat the blunder of his predecessors. Had 
 Mr. Gladstone been in power I should most 
 certainly have set to work to cut the wires, and 
 burn down the telegraph-posts. My crew no 
 doubt would have rendered all the necessary 
 assistance. 
 
 When off Maharakka, on the evening of August 
 
THE END OF THE DERVISH RAID 313 
 
 5, I observed, first to my astonishment and 
 then to my intense vexation, a flotilla consisting 
 of steamers, barges, and a dahabeah, flying the 
 white flag with red cross coming down stream. 
 It must mean this, that it was all over " bar 
 shouting" with the Dervish raid and Njurni. 
 The ill fortune, which had on several occasions 
 pursued me when intent on seeing some active 
 service, once more dogged my footsteps, de- 
 spite the fine opportunity that had at length 
 apparently presented itself. We were hugging 
 the east shore at the time this flotilla came in 
 unwelcome sight. The boats were well in the 
 current on the other side of the river, and as the 
 Nile is not exactly a trout stream, there were no 
 means of communicating with them. Clinging 
 to the vain hope that my apprehensions might 
 be wrong, I carried on towards Korosko, resolving 
 to try and gain some reliable information on the 
 way. A few miles from Samooah we stopped at 
 a small village where there was an Egyptian 
 officer and man. As most of the Egyptian 
 officers speak either English or French, I looked 
 to this one for information. To my surprise, 
 however, it was not the officer, but the man, who 
 was able to reply in somewhat broken French to 
 my inquiries. We learnt from him that Njumi's 
 
314 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 force had been completely routed at Toski. Later 
 on further tidings came to hand, which told how 
 Njumi himself had been killed, together with 
 fifteen Emirs and fifteen hundred men, 1 at the 
 loss of a very few British troops. There were 
 probably amongst those who fell or fled at Toski 
 not a few fighting Dervishes, such as broke 
 into our squares a few years previously. The 
 genuine Dervish was an extraordinary specimen 
 of humanity. He and even his camp-followers 
 were utterly callous of pain, and laughed at am- 
 putations. A stranger told us of two incidents 
 which came under his personal observation in 
 relation to these folk, men and women. He was 
 ready to swear that he had one day found in a 
 palnx-tree a man whose leg he had amputated 
 twenty-four hours before, and that he had seen 
 a woman grinding corn the day subsequent to 
 his having taken off one of her legs at the thigh, 
 and one of her arms above the elbow ! He 
 succeeded in telling these tales without a smile. 
 
 The fun being all over, we turned back after 
 three days' real hard work in striving to keep 
 ahead of De Montmorency's troops. A large 
 percentage of head and light winds are but poor 
 allies in the business of overcoming a rising Nile 
 
 1 Another account put the slaughter at 2000 at the least. 
 
ARABIC BOAT-SONG 315 
 
 with constant rapids. At eight o'clock in the 
 evening, with a good moon, I resolved to head for 
 Assouan, thougn expecting remonstrances from 
 my boatmen. It turned out, however, that they 
 were one and all only too anxious to get back 
 again to their wives and homes. On we went 
 at once. The men rowed vigorously with such 
 oars too ! through the night, singing after 
 their quaint fashion. I had lately been enjoying 
 the melody of such artistes as Battistini, Nevada, 
 and Regina Paccini, so that the Arabic boat-song 
 palled a trifle after a while, but in its way it was 
 not devoid of a certain beauty. It took twenty- 
 four hours to do the eighty-two miles to Shellal, 
 notwithstanding the current and rapids in our 
 favour. We were caught in a vicious little squall 
 in the " Gates of Kalabsheh," and very nearly 
 capsized. This was the only incident of much 
 note during the homeward journey. I had 
 one most narrow shave, which made my blood 
 run cold when I thought of it for a long time 
 afterwards. On the look-out in the night for 
 game of any sort along the banks of the river, I 
 barely escaped putting a bullet into the head of 
 a camel which suddenly appeared behind a jackal 
 that offered a tempting shot on the sky-line. It 
 might have been hard to live down the ridicule 
 
316 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 sure to be attached to any one for shooting one 
 of these long-suffering and very non-combatant 
 beasts of burden. 
 
 In the Nile, some miles above Shellal, poor 
 Major Turnbull lost his life. He fell overboard 
 at night, and must have been taken under by a 
 whirlpool just after he had called to his com- 
 panions in the dahabeah that he was all right. 
 Early on the morning of August 7 we shot 
 the cataracts in the felucca in company with 
 Chaplain-General Collins ; recovered the body 
 of Turnbull terribly disfigured, and buried it 
 with all military honours at Assouan. The 
 body was in the shallows, where I had foretold 
 it would be found. It was discovered by his 
 company dog, who, with an intelligence rather 
 above that of an average human being, induced 
 some of the men to accompany him back to the 
 spot where the officer was lying. The Egyptian 
 question has been discussed a great deal of late. 
 This is scarcely the place to deal with such a 
 matter, but I cannot help remarking that my 
 experience of the country and its inhabitants 
 has led me to form a strong opinion against 
 evacuation. The Egyptians are utterly incapable 
 of self-government, and if left to themselves they 
 would speedily slip back again into all the old 
 
WITH DON CAELOS 317 
 
 evils of bribery and corruption, which appear to 
 be inherent in nations under Mussulman rule. 
 
 On August 12 I embarked at Alexandria on 
 board the Cathay, and was at Brindisi on the 
 15th. Here I wired to Don Carlos to expect 
 me in Venice in a couple of days, and upon 
 arrival there found a beautiful gondola waiting 
 to take me to his residence, the Palazzo Loredan. 
 The Palazzo, where Don Carlos has now resided 
 for a good number of years, is finely situated, 
 with extensive views of the Grand Canal ; and 
 it contains, amongst other interesting things, 
 one of the most perfect private armouries in 
 Europe. I was able to add to it on the occasion 
 of my visit in the shape of a Colt's revolver 
 the very one which had brought the unruly 
 sheik to his senses and a Dervish sword. 
 
 There was only the afternoon and evening to 
 spend at Venice ; but I was not at all averse to 
 my host's agreeable proposition that we should 
 bathe. At Lido we swam about for a good 
 while near the shore, when suddenly Don Carlos 
 exclaimed, " Now we will go for a swim," and 
 struck out as if with the intention of crossing 
 
 <T> 
 
 the Adriatic to Fiume. This was rather more 
 than I bargained for, as I was getting very cold, 
 and not unnaturally so after the grilling in 
 
318 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Egypt. After a time, however, my host 
 thoughtfully asked me whether I felt at all cold, 
 and upon my replying in the affirmative, some- 
 what to my relief instantly turned towards 
 the shore. Venice was left shortly before 
 midnight, and London reached on the evening 
 of August 19. 
 
 Don Carlos is now no longer a very young 
 man, though his tall handsome figure is still 
 perfectly erect ; and it is not thought likely that 
 he will himself make a high bid for the throne 
 of Spain. But his son is a young man of vigour 
 and determination, who, it is quite conceivable, 
 will by and by claim his own. More swords 
 than the outside world may be aware of, if a 
 favourable opportunity arose, would leap from 
 their scabbards in the Peninsula, and more 
 especially in the Basque Provinces, to strike a 
 blow on behalf of the rightful claimant to the 
 throne of Spain, if not of France into the 
 bargain. What I have seen of Don Carlos 
 confirms me in the belief that he is a brave 
 and upright man, and, as I took the opportunity 
 of telling him on the last occasion on which 
 we met, my sword, for what it may be worth, 
 is always at his service. Don Carlos, though 
 not great on the subject of horse-racing, is, 
 
A 1 MILL> WHILE HUNTING 319 
 
 besides being a swimmer, an excellent snot. He 
 is a capital conversationalist, full of interesting 
 experiences of the Kusso-Turkish War, as well 
 as of his own campaigns. His present wife, 
 who was the Princess Bertha of Kohan, is well 
 liked amongst the Spanish Legitimists, and 
 is doing not a little to keep alive her husband's 
 cause. 
 
 After my return from Egypt I contented 
 myself with hunting and shooting, taking 
 part in no steeplechasing whatever in the 
 autumn and winter of 1889. In the first few 
 months of 1890 I addressed myself to hunting, 
 chiefly in the New Forest, and in the spring 
 and early summer to cruising about the coast 
 in a small boat. 
 
 It does not often fall to one's lot to get 
 through a "mill" in the midst of a run. But 
 this rather novel experience did once fall to 
 my lot when out cubbing with the East Essex. 
 A friend, hearing of this book of reminiscences 
 the other day, reminded me of the incident, 
 and remarked, " Of course you will put that 
 in." Here it is. The hounds were running 
 
 O' 
 
 when I rode up to a gate, on the other side of 
 which were a ploughman and two men in a cart, 
 one of whom was a renowned local "bruiser." 
 
320 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNT 
 
 I remarked to the ploughman that he might have 
 opened the gate seeing the hounds running, and 
 the others took this in ill part, A volley of oaths 
 told me that one of them was more than my 
 match in blasphemy, so I made no further com- 
 ment, and intended to pass on without more ado. 
 However, to my surprise the man got out of 
 the cart in no time, and expressed a desire to 
 kick me. I dismounted of course, and prepared 
 to do battle. He was a huge fellow, fully six 
 feet in height, proportionately broad, and on 
 the upper ground. Eetreat, however, was out 
 of the question, and it only remained to make 
 the best of what looked like rather a bad 
 bargain, more especially as my right arm had not 
 recovered from a compound fracture. We went 
 for one another hammer and tongs, and at the 
 onset my antagonist got rather the best of it. 
 After the first burst we stopped instinctively 
 for a moment or two, glaring at each other 
 
 ' O O 
 
 in the way men do under such circumstances. 
 In that brief interim I saw that his great flanks 
 were heaving. " ho, my friend," thought I, 
 " at any rate I'm more than your match so far 
 as condition is concerned." Almost directly 
 afterwards I landed him one on " the point," 
 and the contest was over, He never showed fight 
 
A TRIP IN THE 'B'NITA' 321 
 
 after that, nor .did his companion, who was 
 invited to come down and try his fortune. 
 '' What's good enough for my friend/' he re- 
 marked, "will do for me." Several members 
 of the hunt had come up whilst we were at 
 it and formed a ring. The fight over, we 
 mounted and were able to rejoin the hounds, 
 which were still running. I cannot recollect 
 whether or no we killed our fox. 
 
 Later on in July, I took the B'nita from 
 Eyde to Folkestone, and then crossed the 
 Channel to Boulogne. The trip took four 
 days. It was not so eventful as one or two 
 other excursions of the kind which I have made 
 in small boats in the open sea ; but it may be 
 not without interest, in case others should desire 
 to make the same trip in fine weather, to give 
 the time of starting, and the number of miles 
 covered each day. On the first day we sailed 
 at 1.35 p.m. and arrived at Selsea Bill at 
 7.50 p.m., a distance of fourteen miles; on the 
 second day Selsea was left at 4.40 a.m. and 
 Brighton reached at 8.20 p.m. distance twenty- 
 three miles ; on the third day we left Brighton 
 at 3.35 a.m. and reached Folkestone at 4.30 p.m., 
 a distance of fifty-seven miles. Folkestone was 
 
 left at 4.10 p.m. on the fourth and last day, and 
 
 Y 
 
322 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Boulogne reached at 10 o'clock that night 
 distance twenty-five miles. Thus, the total 
 number of miles being one hundred and nineteen, 
 the average a day was just under thirty. 
 
 I was a good deal in Boulogne in July 
 and August of this year, and did some pigeon- 
 shooting, though the sport was not worthy of 
 much notice. One day, being in form, I 
 managed to knock my competitors, who were 
 Frenchmen, one and all well out of it. Thereat 
 arose a good deal of soreness and grumbling, 
 which was only stopped by some one explaining, 
 " Oh, but de Crespigny is one of ourselves. 
 His name should tell you that." 
 
 The year 1891 was an uneventful year so far as 
 steeplechasing was concerned, but next year it 
 was possible to settle down once more with a will 
 to cross-country sport. On March 24 I found 
 myself again on the steeplechase course that 
 ought to be at least as familiar to me as any in 
 the country Chelmsford. It is not easy to say 
 how many times I have ridden there, but I 
 know that seven years ago my total was sixteen, 
 covering about forty miles. The calculation 
 was then made for the purpose of showing that 
 steeplechasing was not nearly so dangerous a 
 pursuit so far as fatal accidents went as 
 
'CORRfiZE' 323 
 
 many seemed to imagine. In those sixteen 
 steeplechases I fell only twice, and was in neither 
 instance considerably hurt. At the same time 
 it has happened that my worst tumbles have 
 been on courses other than Chelmsford, such as 
 Lingfield and Hurst Park. 
 
 Correze has turned out the best horse I 
 have ever had the fortune to own and train in 
 England. We bred him ourselves out of Wild 
 Georgie by Young Citadel, and he was the 
 mare's second foal. Wild Georgie was originally 
 bought to ride as a Yeomanry charger ; and 
 her pedigree has already been touched upon. 
 Young Citadel (1872) was a direct descendant 
 of Brutandorf, and a writer commenting on this 
 has remarked, "There are very few, if any, horses 
 now at the stud representing this line ; and so 
 good-looking is Correze that he will be valuable 
 for transmitting it, and so reviving an almost 
 extinct but very valuable branch of the Black- 
 lock family." Young Citadel was by Lambton, 
 son of The Cure, son of the Physician, son of 
 Brutandorf. We first made up our minds that 
 Correze was really useful when he won a four-mile 
 trial at Captain Aiken's, where he easily knocked 
 out Profit, a horse that went the first two miles 
 with him and also The Sikh. The latter would 
 
324 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 have been my mount at Liverpool, had he not 
 unhappily broken a blood-vessel in that trial. 
 
 Correze came out as a good horse rather 
 slowly ; at least he did nothing very much in 
 his first few races, though not always very lucky. 
 On April 18 I got a nasty fall on him on 
 the course outside the Cavalry Barracks at 
 Colchester. He crossed his legs after landing 
 over the brook, came down, and gave me con- 
 cussion of the brain. As I was carried past 
 my second son, a yokel remarked, " Wonder 
 whether he's gone to 'eaven." In about twenty 
 minutes I came round, not much the worse for 
 the toss. Two days afterwards, April 20, was 
 my forty-fifth birthday. It is pleasant to win 
 a race on one's birthday, if it can be managed. 
 It was managed on that day, for going down to 
 Woodbridge, I won the Orwell Hurdle Eace by 
 three lengths on Marcus Beresford's, now Lord 
 Decies', Amber, riding of course as one naturally 
 does on another man's horse unless told to 
 make your own race to orders. Gondola was 
 second ; Topper third. In the following year, 
 too, I won a race on my forty- sixth birthday. 
 
 From Woodbridge it is not a far cry to 
 Ipswich, where there was some steeplechasing 
 two days later. I did not excel there, but was 
 
VARIED LUCK 325 
 
 more in luck at Chelmsford, on the 28th 
 winning the Selling Steeplechase on Mr. Ditton's 
 Old Ben, beating the favourite Major Peter's 
 Barbiana, who was ridden by Mr. Cheney 
 by a length or so. 
 
 In the winter of 1892 Correze was not a very 
 good second in the Essex Open Steeplechase at 
 Chelmsford on Nov. 30, Mr. Clayton's Grab All, 
 the favourite, who was then in good form, being 
 too much for him. Correze indeed was not at 
 all fancied, and started a rank outsider. At 
 Bury, a week later, in the Suffolk County Steeple- 
 chase, Correze was going strong, and seemed a 
 winner all over, when, three fences from home, 
 Fugleman, whom I struck into, crossed, and this 
 brought us down. Next time I rode the horse 
 was at Hurst Park on Dec. 10, starting as 
 outsider in a field of five, and getting second to 
 Sensier, who won on Mr. KyalTs Kynaston. 
 This was over a three-mile course, as was also 
 the Essex Open Steeplechase. Correze has 
 always been rather a stayer than a speedy 
 horse, and does not run up to his form over 
 short courses such as two miles. 
 
 In the early part of 1893 it fell to my lot to 
 get knocked about a good deal on one or two 
 courses, but I was able fortunately to soon shake 
 
326 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 off the effects of my falls, and to enjoy a good 
 deal of sport. Birdseye fell with me at the 
 brook on a very greasy landing at Lingfield, 
 and, as mentioned at the commencement of 
 these reminiscences, concussion of the brain was 
 the result. A policeman on this occasion offered 
 to try his surgical skill on me, but I flatly 
 refused to submit myself to his tender mercies. 
 Ultimately they plastered me up, and, when I 
 arrived home, my own doctor bandaged and sewed 
 me up properly with cat-gut. Three or four days 
 later I was out and engaged in rolling my 
 cricket- ground, which, by the way, is an excellent 
 way of keeping oneself in condition. I followed 
 this up with a Turkish bath, and the day 
 after was, though still in bandages, quite fit 
 to ride Correze and Birdseye at Hurst Park. 
 But I did nothing, as the former fell in one 
 race at the ditch, and made such a hole in 
 the fence that my old friend, Sir Matthew Wood, 
 the then Secretary, threatened to send me in 
 a bill for damages ; whilst the latter only 
 managed to come in fourth in an open selling 
 race. Though now and again I have had a 
 little brush not of a particularly unfriendly 
 character with sporting writers, I have to grate- 
 fully acknowledge that the sporting press has, 
 
MY FALL AT LINGFIELD 327 
 
 on the whole, always dealt by me in a very kind 
 manner. There were some allusions to this 
 accident at Lingfield, one of which may be 
 reproduced : " Neither broken bones, concussion 
 of the brain, nor a severed artery can take the 
 gameness out of Sir Claude de Crespigny. What 
 with his ballooning, his boxing, his racing, and 
 his other lively pursuits, Sir Claude has been 
 knocked about as much as most people. Last 
 Saturday whilst riding in a steeplechase at Ling- 
 field, his horse fell, and he was kicked on the 
 head by another animal, sustaining concussion 
 of the brain and a severed artery. He was 
 carried home, and his wounds were found to be 
 of so severe a character that they had to be sewn 
 up. In less than twenty-four hours, however, 
 Sir Claude was writing to the editor, saying 
 that he was doing well and hoped to be in 
 the saddle again before long." The letter 
 referred to was the following : 
 
 " Turkish Bath, Nwthumberland Avenue, 
 
 " Jan. 25, 1893. 
 "DEAR SIR, 
 
 "My daughter, who has just started 
 for Exeter, has handed me your kind letter. 
 Yesterday my M.D. considered danger from 
 
328 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 erysipelas had passed, and let me out for an hour 
 (which I took on a stone roller on the Champion 
 Hill Cricket Ground). To-day I've had a good 
 spell in the Turkish bath ; to-morrow shall go 
 down to the country for a gallop, and on Friday 
 hope to sport silk at Hurst Park Steeplechases. 
 
 " C. CH. DE CRESPIGNY." 
 
 Aiken and I went down to Warwick on 
 Feb. 6, when I rode in the Warwick Handicap 
 Steeplechase, starting an outsider on The Sikh. 
 The horse however was placed second, though 
 well beaten by Wenty Hope Johnstone, whose 
 mount was Mr. Irving' s Champion, the second 
 favourite. This was described as quite an old 
 jockeys' race, for between us and our horses it 
 was calculated that our total ages amounted 
 to over a hundred years ! 
 
 After this race we tried to get up a match 
 between Wenty and myself over a four- mile 
 course at Sandown, and on the same horses. 
 Wenty was to give a stone for the beating. I 
 should have fancied The Sikh on these terms, 
 but the match never came off. 
 
 It will come as a surprise to some people to 
 learn that Wenty Hope Johnstone has now 
 been riding no less than thirty years. His 
 
NOTABLE SOLDIER RIDERS 329 
 
 average of wins throughout that long stretch 
 of time has not been less than one in every 
 three races. Amongst his more notable achieve- 
 ments were the Grand Military on Kiverescat, 
 Earl Marshall, and Lady Sneer well. In 1877 
 he headed the list of cross-country jockeys with 
 forty-seven wins, and in the following year with 
 fifty -five wins. 
 
 The Seventies, by the way, were particularly 
 rich in excellent soldier riders across country 
 and on the flat. In addition to Billy Morris 
 and Wenty Hope Johnstone, there were Curly 
 Knox, Tempest, Marcus Beresford, Pritchard 
 Rayner, Driver Browne, Magennis, Wing, Tip 
 Herbert, Nipper Willoughby, Daddy Annesley, 
 and a number of others. Not one of these 
 jockeys is riding to-day always excepting the 
 evergreen Wenty, and indeed not one of them, 
 to my knowledge, have been riding within the 
 last half-dozen years or so. At the same time, 
 their place has been filled by other good men 
 and true, though there is perhaps rather less 
 disposition now-a-days to ride anything and 
 everywhere than in the days of yore. 
 
 In those times the 7th Hussars the old 
 Regiment of both Wenty Hope Johnstone and 
 Billy Morris the 9th Lancers, and the Guards 
 
330 MEMOIES OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRE8PIGNY 
 
 supplied most of the soldier jockeys that could 
 hold their own both inside and outside the 
 military circle. When Eiverescat won the Grand 
 Military, the 7th had no less than five jockeys 
 riding in the race, namely, John Drye Barker, 
 Baby M'Calmont, Marcus Beresford, Billy 
 Morris, and Wenty Hope Johnstone. This 
 reminds one of Eton pretty well monopolizing 
 one of the 'Varsity boats, as she did last spring. 
 Probably no regiment has ever been quite so 
 strong in jockeys as the 7th was at that period. 
 
 Billy Morris known in the 7th as Billy 
 Morgan was, in my opinion, the finest soldier 
 jockey of his time, and he could ride under 
 ten stone, He rode more than once in the 
 Grand National, and when up on Downpatrick 
 was first on the racecourse. Twice he won 
 the Grand Military, each time on Chilblain, 
 and once the Irish Military on Witch Hazel. 
 Billy was immensely popular amongst all racing 
 men, amateur and professional alike. There is 
 a dark cloud about his end, which can now 
 never be thoroughly cleared away. It has 
 always been a belief with some of us that he 
 was hustled in the hunting-field where he came 
 by his death, and left to an untimely end. A 
 friend and soldier colleague of his says " Billy 
 
'CHILBLAIN' AND THE LAMB 331 
 
 was found lying with his collar and shirt 
 undone, and his pin stuck in his coat. His 
 neck was broken. Hard by, his horse was tied 
 to a paling. How it happened, or who saw it, is 
 a tale that has never been told. A bold horse- 
 man and a good soldier was poor Billy Morgan." 
 
 Old Chilblain wound up his career in peace 
 and honour at Champion Lodge. He had his 
 horse-box, shed, and four acres of paddock, 
 and a companion for some time too in the shape 
 of a lamb. This animal followed Chilblain as 
 faithfully as that of the poet did Mary, and 
 a great affection sprang up between the two. 
 Whichever left the box first the other immedi- 
 ately followed, and at the same pace. The horse 
 and lamb grazed alongside of one another, and 
 when the horse lay down, the lamb followed 
 suit. They became, in fact, inseparable a 
 remarkable instance of Platonic affection between 
 two animals. 
 
 In several instances during the spring of this 
 year Correze had bad luck, losing races by little 
 unforeseen accidents. Thus on March 3 he was 
 leading in at Sandown Park in the National 
 Hunt, when he blundered at the brook, and went 
 on his head and knees. He recovered, but I had 
 to jump the next two fences without one of my 
 
332 MEMOIRS Off SIR CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 irons, After the blunder I felt the off leather 
 getting longer and longer, and speedily perceiving 
 what had occurred, made a desperate endeavour 
 as we were passing the stand to adjust the 
 buckle. This was ultimately done, but not till 
 we had passed the stand. Correze made a dash 
 for the big gate instead of bearing to the right, 
 and this lost so much ground that it was impos- 
 sible to make it up. The winner was Van der 
 Berg, with Cuthbert Slade up. Correze had 
 started an outsider ; subsequently he turned the 
 table on Van der Berg. 
 
 On March 8 we repaired to Gatwick, and I 
 rode Correze in the Harkaway Steeplechase, but 
 had to put up with a beating from Lily of the 
 Valley, with Dollery up. 
 
 In a hurdle race at Windsor on March 13 
 I came down pretty hard with Kobert Dudley. 
 It was a case of slight concussion ; but I jumped 
 up, interested to see what was winning, and 
 was so stupefied by the fall that I found myself 
 looking right in the opposite direction to the 
 winning-post. 
 
 The streak of bad luck which pursued me 
 for part of this spring season of 1893 was 
 not broken through on March 23. At Chelms- 
 ford, I went over the Galley wood course 
 
'ABYSSINIAN' IN DIFFICULTIES 333 
 
 carefully beforehand, and ought to have won 
 the Chelmsford Steeplechase. It sometimes 
 happens that when a horse has been doing stiff 
 fences, he fails altogether over a much easier 
 country. I feared this might happen at Chelms- 
 ford, and it did. Correze was going well, till 
 he took it into his head to hit the rail of the 
 fourth fence, not more than a foot above the 
 ground, and came down. It did the horse good, 
 and made him careful afterwards. 
 
 The next steeplechase of any note was at 
 Kempton early in April, when Correze was 
 second to Abyssinian in the Twickenham 
 Steeplechase. That race was lost by one of 
 those little chances which rarely get recorded 
 in the press reports, because they are not 
 noticed. Abyssinian was going very unkindly, 
 and he would have certainly gone clean into 
 the middle of the brook, if it had not been 
 a mere splash, and have probably finished up 
 the race there had I not come up alongside, 
 which helped to keep him straight. He then 
 got out of his difficulties. Dollery, who was 
 up on Abyssinian, saw how well I had served 
 him by accident, and said afterwards, "You 
 gave me that race, Sir Claude." 
 
 The same week Correze was tried again at 
 
334 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Lingfield, but was not placed in the Lingfield 
 Grand National, won by Excelsior. He had 
 not fully recovered from a slight touch of the 
 influenza, which attacks horses sometimes as it 
 does their riders. This race told me something, 
 as it enabled me to about gauge the Primate's 
 form, which came in useful later in the year. 
 
 Bewicke, Dollery, and I rode down to the post 
 just before this race, and commenting on Dollery's 
 success in the Grand National on Cloister, 
 Bewicke said, " By the way, I was the first to 
 tell you that you'd won that race." " Were 
 you indeed, sir ? J> quoth Dollery ; " well now, I 
 recollect I did hear somebody halloaing out, and 
 could not think where the sounds came from." 
 Bewicke had been shouting out from under- 
 neath his horse, the Primate, quite forgetful of 
 his fall in the excitement of the race. 
 
 At Woodbridge, on April 19, 1893, the ground 
 was so hard that for once in a way it was 
 actually necessary to decline mounts. This was 
 done not so much out of regard for my own 
 safety, but for that of two horses, Sprig of 
 Myrtle and Kobert Dudley, which had been 
 brought down for me to ride. They were 
 accordingly sent back to Ipswich for the Chases 
 to be held there a few days later. 
 
INCIDENT AT IPSWICH 335 
 
 On April 20 Correze won easily enough 
 in the Open Military Steeplechase in the 
 Household Brigade meeting at Hawthorn Hill. 
 He started favourite six to four on and was 
 well in, carrying 11 st. 4 Ibs. against Lord Tul- 
 libardine's Mazzard, 13 st. 3 Ibs. (ridden by 
 owner), and Mr. Tilney's Willoughby, 12 st. 
 7 Ibs., ridden by Captain Milner. At the same 
 time, two miles was not the proper distance for 
 Correze. He has always essentially been a stayer. 
 On March 10 of the same year, I rode him over 
 a two-mile course at Sandown in the Open 
 Handicap Steeplechase, won by Tenby. In this 
 race we knocked out a prominent G. N. 
 candidate, Sarsfield, who was served up a hot 
 favourite, but had apparently lost all form. 
 
 An incident that reminds one rather of the 
 kind of judging one looked for in India, when I 
 was steeplechasing and racing there, occurred 
 at Ipswich on April 21, 1893. I was riding 
 Eobert Dudley for Mr. Loftus le Champion. 
 He had backed the horse for a small sum for 
 a place, and had been so fortunate as to get 
 a very good price, something like five to 
 one. White Heather owner up was first; 
 Candytuft, second ; and Robert Dudley came 
 in third, having fallen at the water-jump. He 
 
336 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 was a hundred and fifty yards or thereabouts 
 behind the second horse. But the judge left 
 his box, and consequently Robert Dudley was 
 not given a place, though he was third. I re- 
 monstrated, but it was of no avail, and Mr. 
 le Champion not only did not receive, but 
 actually had to pay ! It was an act of culpable 
 carelessness. I went into the judge's box myself 
 after the race, and found that one could see 
 easily as far as Nacton corner. Now Robert 
 Dudley had passed that point long before the 
 winning horse passed the post, so there was really 
 no excuse whatever for not awarding him the 
 place he had fairly won. It need hardly be 
 said that it was merely an act of carelessness 
 on the part of the judge, but it was an un- 
 deniably gross one. A pretty uproar there 
 would have been if the public money had 
 been on the horse to any extent. That day 
 I was not altogether displeased to see a horse 
 disqualified. The owner had asked me to ride 
 for him some time previously, but said he could 
 not find me. As I had ridden in the previous 
 race, the excuse was somewhat lame. The 
 jockey, not having walked round the course, 
 missed a fence, and so the good thing fell through. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 A SPORTSMAN'S PARADISE 
 
 The Great Sandown Steeplechase Bewicke's marvellous 
 performance Advice to young riders Steeplechasing 
 close on nine degrees below zero To Spain once more 
 Pigeon-shooting " Colorado" A fox in the pen A 
 miss, and profanity An old Spanish custom After 
 bustard A fine forest keeper Cruelty of diligence 
 drivers " See Jerez and live " Literary steeple- 
 chasing A saddening reflection Not balloonists and 
 steeplechasers all A real pleasure, and a farewell. 
 
 THE racing memory, unlike the political, is not 
 by any means notorious for its shortness, so that 
 there is no need to do anything but skim very 
 lightly over the history of steeplechasing during 
 the remainder of this and the next two seasons. 
 April 1893 was one of the driest on record, and 
 the ground was like iron. I took part in no 
 more cross-country sport till the autumn, when 
 there fell to' my lot a win or two in a few 
 events, such as the Army and Navy Steeplechase 
 at Hawthorn Hill Correze's second win there 
 
 337 z 
 
338 MEMOIRS Off SIR CLAUDE DE C&ESP1GNY 
 
 and Dorman's Steeplechase at Lingfield. At 
 Hawthorn Hill, Correze got the better of Father 
 O'Flynn, ridden by Mr. C. Grenfell the owner, 
 and of Emin who started favourite, also ridden 
 by his owner, Lord Molyneux. 
 
 The biggest events in steeplechasing, even 
 including the Grand National, are, despite the 
 undoubted popularity of the sport, mere drops 
 in the ocean compared with the monster prizes 
 to be won on the flat. My own mounts have 
 rarely brought me in anything over two figures, 
 so that December 9, 1893, the date of the Great 
 Sandown Steeplechase which Correze won, was 
 quite a red-letter day in my calendar. Even here 
 the stakes are not excessive, but the event is a 
 big one in its way ; and what was particularly 
 satisfactory about the winning of it, from my 
 point of view, -was the fact that the Prince of 
 Wales cordially congratulated me on my success. 
 His Royal Highness was present at the dinner 
 given by the Sports' Club to Lord Dunraven, 
 and spoke to me most kindly about the race. 
 It was permissible to remind the Prince that 
 I had once had the honour of training in his 
 old stable, namely, that of Jack Jones. 
 
 Primate, carrying 12 st. 7 Ibs., and ridden 
 by Bewicke, started rather a warm favourite. 
 
BEWICKE'S MARVELLOUS PERFORMANCE 339 
 
 Correze, with 10 st. 13 Ibs., was backed at 
 nine to two Fairy Queen was second favourite 
 but I believed him to be better than Primate 
 at the weights, as I had had some opportunities 
 of judging, and was not much surprised, there- 
 fore, at the result. Then Primate did not behave 
 over well in the race, swerving at the first 
 fence, and never jumping too well. Correze, on 
 the other hand, jumped well, and stayed well. 
 Before the last fence was negotiated, Correze 
 had the favourite nicely settled, and Fairy 
 Queen being unable to stay home in the run 
 in, he won by a couple of lengths. Correze, 
 after this, began to be talked of a good deal 
 for the Grand National ; but a break-down 
 in training later on robbed him of the great 
 chance he would otherwise have had in that 
 classic steeplechase. 
 
 Of all the smart steeplechasing performances 
 I have ever seen and their name is legion 
 not one surpasses Bewicke's in this race. 
 Glancing round, one espied Primate down at 
 the fence by the pay-gate. He looked to me, 
 in the hasty glance which I was able to take, 
 stretched out almost spread-eagle fashion on 
 the ground. Yet the rider never lost his seat, 
 and scarcely had the cry of a fall gone forth 
 
340 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 amongst the spectators, than he had Primate 
 up again, and was pressing Correze hard, having 
 only lost a few lengths by the mishap. It 
 seemed, and it actually was, a marvellous 
 achievement of Bewicke's. No one with know- 
 ledge of steeplechasing, who saw the incident, 
 can ever forget it. 
 
 The Sportsman, in commenting on Correze's 
 win in the race, referred to his rider in tones 
 so eulogistic that my native modesty quite 
 prevents me reproducing them here ! But there 
 was one passage in the article in question which 
 was so much to the point, and so true, that 
 it may be well quoted for the guidance of 
 young and ambitious riders " His victory is, in 
 my humble opinion, a salutary example for the 
 younger division who are not unfrequently 
 lacking in go. ... Practical horsemen are well 
 aware that race-riding over a country or hurdles 
 is impossible except for a man who is thoroughly 
 fit and constantly taking riding exercise. But 
 the modern Sybarite is far too apt to luxuriate, 
 and try to ride at Sandown upon occasions, 
 when, as almost invariably happens, he makes 
 a lamentable show, and then, forsooth, complains 
 if he is criticized in the papers. These gentle- 
 men should understand that when they get up 
 
ADVICE TO YOUNG RIDEKX 341 
 
 to ride at a gate-money meeting they offer their 
 performances as value for the public's money, 
 and are therefore most legitimate objects of 
 criticism. If they would but make themselves 
 fit to ride if they want to ride as Sir Claude 
 de Crespigny does, we should have a better 
 prospect, and be spared that terrible barrenness 
 of soldier riders, which was marked when that 
 good horse Partisan could not run at Sandown 
 because there was no soldier capable of riding 
 him." Without going the length of this some- 
 what severe criticism of our soldier-riders, 
 it may be readily conceded that the reference 
 to men who try to ride without keeping them- 
 selves in the proper condition is quite justi- 
 fiable. 
 
 Throughout the winter season of 1893 and 
 '94, there was abundance of riding for me at 
 several meetings in the South, such as Hurst 
 Park, Kempton, Portsmouth, and Bury St. 
 Edmunds. At the last-named I met my old 
 friend the Duke of Hamilton, with whom I 
 have in days long past had many a pleasant 
 revel, for the last time on or off a racecourse. 
 He gave me a lift in his special. It seems but 
 yesterday that I saw his Grace, " the Mate/' and 
 C, Blanton (their trainer) chatting cheerily on 
 
342 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLA UDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 Stockbridge racecourse. " All, all are gone the 
 old familiar faces ! " " Angus," as he was 
 always called by his intimates, was one of 
 the kindest -hearted of men, and his loss will 
 be deeply felt round Easton. The cheers 
 which invariably went up when the cerise 
 and French grey caught the judge's eye in 
 the van showed how he was appreciated by 
 sport-loving Britons. 
 
 A bloodless victory was mine on Badmin- 
 ton at Hurst Park on January 3, 1894, when 
 the horse ridden by Gates, my single opponent, 
 bolted before the start. The brute actually ran 
 four and a half miles before the jockey regained 
 control over him, and was then totally unfit 
 to do any more racing that day. So Badminton 
 was permitted to walk over. 
 
 Perishingly cold, by the way, was that 
 third of January. The ground was so hard, 
 moreover, that very few jockeys would think 
 of riding. Of course I had to wait at the 
 starting-post with Arthur Coventry whilst Star 
 in the East went through this performance. 
 Before long my hands got so numbed that it 
 was difficult to keep hold of the reins. Seeing 
 this, the starter, with real good-nature and self- 
 sacrifice, lent me his gloves. What sort of 
 
'CORREZE' AT SANDOWN 343 
 
 weather it was may be judged by the fact 
 that on the following morning the thermometer 
 showed something like nine degrees below zero 
 in an exposed place. 
 
 We were offered seventeen hundred pounds for 
 Correze in Feb. 1894, just before his running 
 second to Nellie Gray in the Prince of Wales' 
 Steeplechase at Sanclown. I could not do better 
 in this race than leave Van der Berg behind; 
 but next month Correze ran prominently in 
 the Grand International at Sandown till he 
 pulled up lame after going two miles a great 
 disappointment. 
 
 Early during the present year the opportunity 
 offered of once more turning for sport to Spain. 
 I formed one of a jovial little party, and had 
 a great time in the land, which, though little 
 known to sportsmen, has turned out never- 
 theless a very paradise to the few who have 
 been fortunate enough to enjoy shooting and 
 fishing over the best preserved ground and 
 water. Some letters which were written to a 
 friend from the Peninsula, and during our voyage 
 home, will perhaps serve to give a fair idea 
 of the variety and novelty of a short sporting 
 trip in to use the words applied by Byron to 
 a contiguous country "this delicious land," 
 
344 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CBESPIGNY 
 
 "El Cuco, Jerez de la Fontera, 
 "Jan. 25, 1895. 
 
 "My DEAR D 
 
 " After a rough passage to Gibraltar, 
 and another to Cadiz via Tangiers, we have 
 duly arrived at Don Pedro's, who has not only 
 received us with princely hospitality, but has 
 also given us a suite of four rooms overlooking 
 the Bull-ring and the Alcazar of the Duke of 
 San Lorenzo, besides providing us with a great 
 variety of amusements prior to our starting on 
 Monday for the Palaccio de Onana, the Compte 
 de Medina Sidonia's hunting-seat in the Goto, 
 which marches with the big preserves of the 
 Comtesse de Paris. The Goto has an area of 
 two hundred and fifty square miles, so that 
 each gun requires two horses. Don Pedro's 
 stable is full of nags, and we have been trying 
 which we shall select for our trip. Dinner- 
 parties, dances, a masked ball, lawn-tennis, 
 pigeon -shooting, hunting, etc., made our stay 
 very pleasant ; but best of all, Don Guillermo 
 Garvey, the owner of the finest stud in this 
 part of Spain, if not in the whole country, 
 has placed his horses at my disposal. My 
 riding opportunities are therefore unlimited, 
 and my knees already as raw as mutton-chops. 
 
PIGEON-SHOOTING 345 
 
 To-morrow I am going to school Lindo a 
 grandson of the Duke of Hamilton's flying 
 Leonie whom I shall hope to ride in the big 
 steeplechase at Madrid, over a country adjoining 
 the Jerez racecourse. After the ride we intend 
 trying for a lot of snipe, which we flushed out 
 hunting this afternoon. I am also in hopes 
 of getting mounts at Cadiz, Jerez, San Lucar, 
 and Seville. Wild Spain, by Chapman and 
 Buck, gives a capital account of the Goto shoot. 
 
 "Yours, C. C. DEC." 
 
 "WCuco, Feb. 11, 1895. 
 
 "Yesterday we did our pigeon-shooting. In 
 the big prize two Spanish horses I had bad 
 luck, three of my birds falling dead just out 
 of bounds. However, I won the next sweep 
 in a field of thirteen, and then failed in two 
 others. There were only four birds left, and 
 the light had become so bad that we could 
 barely see the traps. I was in favour of stop- 
 ping, but O'S asked me to shoot for him 
 
 against their two crack shots. I consented, 
 and shot first. My bird a white one went up 
 like a rocket, and I got him with my second 
 barrel against the sky. The others were much 
 
346 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CItESPIGNY 
 
 less fortunate, getting dark, low-flying birds 
 that went straight away like rabbits ; so not un- 
 naturally they missed. Thus the shekels became 
 ' Colorado's/ as we now call him. 
 
 "The name arose this . way. The keepers 
 cannot pronounce our names, so adopt their own 
 nomenclature, and as the glare and constant ex- 
 posure have made O'S.'s jolly old face as red as 
 the rising sun, they have dubbed him ' Colorado/ 
 I am. ' El Baron/ We were rather amused the 
 
 other day. O'S had just shot a stag, a 
 
 fine beast, when one beater asked another to 
 whose gun it had fallen. ' Kubio's,' was the 
 reply. We arrived at the Palaccio after dark, 
 and at dinner a voluntary sweepstake of from 
 one to five dollars was agreed upon for each 
 beast shot with ball stag, boar, lynx, or fox. 
 I barred paying or receiving over the last- 
 named, but consented to shoot them, as they do 
 undoubtedly destroy many fawns and young pigs. 
 I don't know whether you are going to publish 
 this, but if so, trust it won't be welcomed as 
 a damaging admission on the part of an ardent 
 fox-hunter by enemies of Reynard at home. 
 You recollect that tale Townsend told us the 
 other day in Essex, about the farmer who was 
 ready to swear that owing to a dog-fox getting 
 
A MISS -AND PROFANITY 347 
 
 into the pen, half the young lambs were born 
 with fox heads ! But to return to Spain. A 
 fox did come racing past me, so, hardening my 
 heart, I put a ball from my smooth-bore behind 
 his shoulder, dropping him in his tracks. At 
 that moment, by way of judgment, a noble 
 stag trotted by on my other side. To drop 
 my gun and pick up a Keilly Express took 
 but little time, but instead of a steady broad- 
 side, it was a more hurried and diagonal one : 
 result, a miss, profanity, and a spirit of dejection. 
 Luckily I shortly afterwards got a ten-pointer. 
 . . . Nine hinds had passed me, when at length 
 I espied a stag. I was outside gun, and he 
 was just outside the pine- wood over seventy 
 yards off, with very uneven ground between 
 us, so that his head, neck, and top of shoulder 
 were alone visible. I heard my bullet strike 
 home, and saw the hinds going off without him, 
 so concluded it was all right. On going up 
 after the beat, there he .lay, the bullet having 
 entered just behind the ear, and fractured the 
 base of the skull." 
 
 ElCuco,Feb. 14, 1895. 
 
 "We leave here on Monday for Gibraltar, 
 driving by special diligence from St. Fernando 
 
348 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 to Algiers, and take Orient boat on Tuesday 
 for England, arriving in London probably on 
 Saturday. There was a ball here to-night, and 
 one close by yesterday after some theatricals, 
 through which I slept profoundly ; in fact they 
 do say that I snored so loud that two friends 
 led me from the room to an adjoining one, 
 where I lost gloves to the belle of Jerez. 
 
 "There is an old custom much appreciated at 
 Goto, and that is crowning a man who has 
 killed his first stag, either at the Palaccio, or 
 Marismilla. A crown composed of paper and 
 forest flowers is made, and placed on his head 
 by the local beauty. The successful sportsman 
 sits in a chair of state, and the beauty having 
 crowned him, the musicians with their mando- 
 lins, playing the Royal March, head a procession 
 
 comprising Don P 's army of retainers and 
 
 all their women folks. Then the fun commences, 
 and sevillanas and songs last till the small 
 hours, the women being provided with wine 
 and cake, and the men with wine and cigars. 
 
 ' O 
 
 Both males and females, the latter playing 
 castanets, dance with considerable grace, and 
 much delight the onlookers. 
 
 " When ' Colorado's' 'Rubito' (little fair one) 
 a woman called him yesterday in Seville turn 
 
AN OLD SPANISH CUSTOM 349 
 
 came, he was splendid, his good-humoured face 
 smiling all over the sun and unlimited '47 
 Solera, which we drank like water, had made 
 it mahogany-coloured with a Henry Clay 
 Sobremesa, as big as a spinnaker-boom, in his 
 inouth, and his crown worn like a forage cap. 
 His head being swollen by mosquito-bites, he 
 looked a perfect picture of King Cole. At 
 the finish the procession departs as it entered, 
 playing the Royal March. On our last day 
 ladies joined us from Jerez, one of whom shared 
 my butt during the two drives she was with us 
 in order to see the sport. Twelve hinds, two 
 fawns, and a stag passed us. I got the stag, 
 though he did not fall to the gun. He was a 
 long shot, and had both bullets through him, 
 but a bit far back and low. He crossed a lagoon, 
 where a dog bayed him. We followed, horse 
 and foot, but before we got up he broke his bay, 
 when we were obliged to race our hacks to our 
 felucca on the Guadalquiver, in order not to 
 miss the train to Bonanza. However, Manuel 
 the keeper tracked this wounded stag for three 
 miles, and finally secured him. During our first 
 drive, an officer of the French Cuirassiers, who 
 accompanied the ladies, not only fired at hinds 
 whenever he had a chance, but also down the 
 
350 MEMOIRS OF Sift CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 line, which was quite contrary to regulation. 
 His first shot whistled just over our heads, 
 whilst the second struck a tree very near us. 
 It was lucky that his other cartridges misfired. 
 
 " One day Pepe Larios, a keeper, and I had 
 rather a good gallop after an ape which was 
 to be turned down, but which got away with 
 a chain and collar. Pepe had a hog-spear, and 
 tried, but unsuccessfully, to pin the chain to 
 the ground. We eventually pumped our quarry, 
 who ran under a low pine-bush. I jumped off 
 the faithful Saturno (who has carried me for 
 so many miles, and whom I saw again to-day 
 apparently none the worse for all his hard work), 
 and gripped the chain, whilst Pepe slipped his 
 long Jerez knife under the collar, and set him 
 at liberty." 
 
 S. S. Himalaya, Feb. 20, 1895. 
 
 " We left Gib yesterday, and are having a 
 fine passage, so, bar accidents, may expect to 
 reach Plymouth on Friday morning, and Tilbury 
 about noon on Saturday. On Sunday we had 
 a day at the bustard, and found great quantities, 
 but unhappily they flew too high. Our party, 
 including one lady, started at 8 a.m. for a point 
 about fifteen miles from the Cuco, and Don 
 
AFTER BUSTARD 351 
 
 P drove a. team with a party of ladies to 
 
 lunch, which we thoroughly enjoyed on a hill- 
 side in most perfect weather. Eiding to our 
 last drive I came across a dead snake, not killed, 
 so far as I know, by one of our party. This 
 was only the second I'd come across, the other 
 being in the Goto ; Jose followed its track in 
 the sand, and halved it with his big knife. 
 
 " It was getting dark when W killed his 
 
 first bustard. Benitez, his shikari, is considered 
 the best bustard hunter in the Jerez district. 
 He has an exceptionally fine collection of eggs, 
 and I should think could supply collectors with 
 rare specimens at a moderate price. 
 
 " Our nags had done a hard day's work in the 
 deepest of ground, and we were many miles 
 from home. I and a companion, being merciful 
 to our beasts, lagged so far behind that one of 
 the party came back to ascertain whether an 
 accident had occurred, or we had been tackled 
 by anarchists, who are pretty numerous just 
 now, owing in some degree, no doubt, to the 
 fact that the recent heavy rains have thrown 
 many men out of work. Not long since four 
 were garroted in the big square. It was with 
 a certain relief that at 8 p.m., after a very long 
 day, I led Saturno up to the stables, where 
 
352 MEMOIRS OF SIM CLAUDE DE CEESPIGNY 
 
 he had a well-earned rest ; to my surprise 
 he had all his shoes on. When at daybreak 
 next day I went round to bid the horse 
 farewell, it seemed like parting with an old 
 friend. Our return was welcomed by frantic 
 bounds and barks by gallant little Vampiro. 
 The dog received no less than twenty-one wounds 
 from a boar, whilst defending his master, Don 
 
 P , who was on his back fighting with heels 
 
 and fists, till at length when all but exhausted 
 he got the brute by the hind legs, and threw 
 him on his side. Luckily Juanillo came up in 
 
 time to hang on to the boar, whilst Don P 
 
 slipped his knife into him, and so ended a 
 desperate encounter. Poor little Vampiro's en- 
 trails were out, and his life was despaired of. 
 However, the wounded canine hero was sewn up, 
 and, marvellous to relate, recovered. He is now 
 an honoured pensioner, but is never allowed to 
 go to the Goto, for they are sure he would be as 
 willing to give his life in defence of his beloved 
 master, should occasion arise, in the future as 
 he was in the past. That boar's head is the 
 first trophy of the chase which catches your 
 eye in the entrance-hall of the * Cuco.' 
 
 "Juanillo is the finest specimen of a Spanish 
 forest-keeper I ever came across. He is always 
 
A FINE FOREST KEEPER 353 
 
 ready with his dogs (only two or three mongrels) 
 to tackle any boar on foot. To watch his 
 opportunity, have the boar by the hind legs 
 on his side, and a knife into his ribs, lungs, 
 or heart, is the work of an instant. It is 
 not difficult to guess the penalty of failure 
 with an old tusker. The other day when the 
 boar was on foot, it was a refreshing sight to 
 see Juanillo slip off his mule and keep abreast 
 of the dogs, watching his opportunity to dash 
 into the jungle the moment the quarry was 
 bayed. When one looked at that simple brave 
 forester, and recollected some of the feeble 
 specimens of manhood that -are to be seen 
 crawling about Piccadilly and Regent Street, a 
 feeling of contempt and indignation arose, 
 impossible to suppress. 
 
 "The pace was pretty warm in the above- 
 mentioned run, and no less than three guns 
 were in jeopardy of being lost. First I jumped 
 over a gallant Colonel's gun as he wore an 
 eye-glass he was dubbed by the keepers ' Look- 
 ing-glass ' (in Spanish) ; then I saw ' Colorado's ' 
 second horseman with his gun turn end over end 
 on his horse. After killing the boar, Don Pablo 
 
 D on looking into his bucket found it 
 
 empty; but that keen sportsman, Delmd Ead- 
 
 A A 
 
354 MEMOIES OF SIE CLAUDE DE GRESPIGNY 
 
 cliffe, rode his heel line back for three-quarters 
 of a mile and recovered the gun. 
 
 " On Monday we left by an early train for San 
 Fernando both direct boat and train service 
 with Gibraltar having broken down and where 
 a special diligence was awaiting us. With five 
 mixed teams of horses and mules we covered 
 the fifty- eight miles to Algeciras in under ten 
 hours, the usual time being fifteen. The roads 
 here and there were awful composed of soft 
 deep clay with pine boughs stretched across ; 
 but the main part of the distance would have 
 been fairly sound travelling had it not been for 
 occasional large holes, which not only jolted the 
 vehicle till it nearly capsized, but strained the 
 springs to their utmost. The country between 
 San Fernando and Algeciras is decidedly varied. 
 At the start many parts reminded one of the 
 Goto ; then the lake opposite Mariana and 
 the mountains beyond recalled memories of 
 Switzerland. 
 
 " Both ' Colorado ' and I agreed that never 
 again, if it could be avoided, would we make 
 a forced march by diligence, as the cruelty of 
 the driver and his assistant, who keeps jumping 
 off to flog, and prod with a pointed stick, the 
 unfortunate team, passes credulity. It only 
 
CRUELTY OF DILIGENCE DRIVERS 355 
 
 confirmed my .oft- expressed belief that to be 
 killed, even if death was not immediate, in the 
 bull-ring, is kindness itself compared to the 
 sufferings of a hackney horse in Spain. Take, 
 for instance, our last team from Tarifa to 
 Algeciras, the most severe stage of our journey. 
 These were the most ragged lot of the five, 
 consisting of three mules and three horses ; 
 had all been down, and were galled all over. 
 At starting the team could scarcely move, despite 
 the free application of stick and whipcord. Long 
 before reaching our destination the galls on 
 each wretched beast of burden had become open 
 wounds, and woe betide the animal that stumbled ; 
 when the near leader did so, and cut open his 
 already blemished near fetlock, it passed our 
 comprehension how he recovered, and was able 
 to continue the horrible journey. Having 
 knocked the piratical porters down from seventy- 
 five pasetas to sixty-two and a half for trans- 
 porting ourselves and baggage about three 
 hundred yards to our launch, for which ten 
 would have been ample remuneration, we steamed 
 over to Gibraltar, where Delme Kadcliffe, the 
 worthy scion of a fine old sporting stock, 
 hospitably entertained us at a farewell dinner 
 at the Bristol. This Delme is a grandson of 
 
356 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 the author of that noble work on fox-hunting, 
 and, you will recollect, near relatives of his lived 
 in the Tedworth country. The hospitality and 
 kindness we received at Jerez were quite beyond 
 praise. ' See Naples and die ! ' What nonsense ! 
 ' See Jerez and live ! ' is much more to the 
 point." 
 
 After my return from Spain I availed myself 
 of such opportunities as arose for steeplechasing 
 last spring. Several good friends offered me 
 mounts. A rather severe attack of influenza, or 
 something of the kind, got a grip of me in March, 
 but shaking it off without great difficulty I went 
 almost straight from my bed to the saddle with- 
 out any evil effects, and rode in two steeple- 
 chases and a hurdle race at the Sports' Club 
 meeting at Hurst Park. No good there ; but 
 better fortune at Warwick last May, where I won 
 a race on Fred Cotton's Sophism, a real good 
 thing. Curiously enough, Wenty Hope Johnstone 
 and I who may now be about regarded as the 
 doyens of cross-country riders scored in the 
 first and last races respectively of the Warwick 
 meeting. May 10 was rather an interesting day 
 from a family point of view, as my son and I 
 were pitted against one another in a match at 
 
LITERARY STEEPLECHASING 357 
 
 the Plumpton meeting. He had beaten me in a 
 steeplechase not such a long while before, but 
 I had my revenge in this match. Cotton's 
 Burgundy, my mount, started a very hot 
 favourite, and indeed my son had no chance 
 whatever on Mr. Erskine's Sappho, who refused 
 at the first fence, and never finished the course. 
 
 Our old friend "the Mate" told us in his 
 volume of reminiscences how the labour of putting 
 together that book cost him upwards of two stone 
 in weight. I don't know that my own weight 
 is less by a pound than last year, when it 
 was first suggested to me that some of my 
 sporting experiences and adventures in the 
 heavens above and on the earth beneath might 
 make a readable book ; but I cannot answer 
 in the same matter for the friend who started 
 me in this literary steeplechase. There has been 
 occasionally a worn and worried look about him. 
 When, for instance, one morning before this book 
 was half finished the good news was brought to 
 him that I was off to Spain on a shooting 
 expedition for a month or six weeks, he looked 
 as though he had had a bad fall on hard ground. 
 Nor has he waxed enthusiastic when I have 
 talked about another ballooning trip, or a project 
 that several of us have more than once discussed 
 
358 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 for following the course of a stream under the 
 caves of Han in Belgium, which the natives say 
 no man has ever done or ever will do. As it 
 is, the putting together of this book has entailed 
 a good deal of steeplechasing, and the obstacles 
 have been neither few nor far between. 
 
 The chases at Plumpton bring me within 
 very measurable distance of the present time. 
 Most riders, whether on the flat or cross country, 
 must begin to think about winding up their 
 racing and chasing careers when they have 
 stepped across the borderland of middle age. 
 The rather saddening reflection that there may, 
 in the ordinary course of nature, come a time 
 when I shall have to address myself to tamer 
 pursuits than steeplechasing and other more 
 or less hazardous forms of sport, has flashed 
 unwelcome across my mind once or twice of 
 late years. At the same time, I cannot re* 
 member ever feeling more fit, more proof 
 against fatigue, than during the spring chasing 
 season of 1895. Many men deteriorate in 
 various provinces of sport, steeplechasing cer- 
 tainly amongst others, because after reaching 
 the meridian of life they incline too much to ease 
 and even slothfulness ; but, on the other hand, 
 what can be done by those who keep themselves 
 
STILL FIT FOR THE SADDLE 359 
 
 up to the mark, is shown by the example of men 
 like W. G. Grace in the cricketing, and Wenty 
 Hope Johnstone in the racing, world. For my 
 part I hope to stick to the saddle yet awhile, 
 and try and show riders that they sometimes 
 give up too soon. 
 
 "How dull it is to pause, to make an end, 
 To rest unburnished," 
 
 when the joints are yet far from stiff, and the 
 frame still hardened against fatigues ! 
 
 Therefore it will be my endeavour, after the 
 example of not a few good men I have known 
 and heard of, to see the thing out, and in the 
 world of sport, like them, to drink " life to the 
 lees." 
 
 What the public will think of a man who 
 has not fully sown his wild oats though close 
 upon half a century old, and of a life which 
 has been almost entirely given up to various 
 sports and adventures in all parts of the 
 world, it is not for me to predict. It may 
 be that the verdict will be that such a life 
 has been chiefly misspent, for it is an age 
 rather devoted to the carking cares, the 
 ceaseless anxieties, and the restlessness of 
 business, than to exploit and adventure; 
 
360 MEMOIRS OF SIR CLAUDE DE CRESPIGNY 
 
 and in the work of "getting and spending," 
 in the piling up as well as in the losing 
 of fortunes, the powers and thoughts of very 
 many of us are centred. Such things indeed 
 must be : a drone myself, so far as the strictly 
 work-a-day and commercial side of life is 
 concerned, I fully recognize this. It would 
 not do for us to be steeplechasers and balloonists 
 all. Yet there are many who share with me 
 the belief in sport, in its even more robust 
 and adventuresome side, as necessary to the 
 development and prowess of the rising gener- 
 ation of Englishmen ; and they, at any rate, 
 will perhaps regard with leniency some of the 
 escapades herein set forth with all endeavour 
 to avoid exaggeration and inaccuracy. In con- 
 clusion, I will admit that the extreme frequency 
 with which the first person singular has come 
 to the surface throughout these reminiscences 
 has somewhat discomforted me once or twice. 
 But in a book of this kind it is not possible 
 to altogether avoid conveying the impression 
 of being rather an egoist. It has been a real 
 pleasure to turn from my own doings to those 
 of the host of sportsmen and good fellows, 
 whose ways have from time to time been my 
 ways. If anything has been related of these 
 
A FAEEWELL 361 
 
 comrades likely, to give unintentional pain, I 
 trust they may pass an act of oblivion, and 
 I ask them to feel assured that nothing has been 
 set down in malice. For the rest 
 
 " What is writ is writ, 
 Would it were worthier." 
 
APPENDIX 
 
 STEEPLECHASING IN INDIA 
 
 A HOT discussion was going on during the 
 time I spent in India concerning the breeding of 
 horses in the East, and the relative merits of the 
 various kinds. A table given below throws light 
 on the question, but it by no means served to 
 satisfy everybody. Some swore by the Arab, 
 whilst others asserted that it was not a race- 
 horse at all, and was a long way behind the 
 country-bred at that period, whatever it might 
 have been in the past. It was not, however, to 
 be denied, even by those who set the country-bred 
 far above the Arab, that the Calcutta Derby, 
 confined to the latter, was one of the prettiest 
 races to be seen in the country. 
 
 INDIAN RACING AND CHASING. 
 
 THE following scale of weights was adopted 
 by the Calcutta Turf Club, about five-and-twenty 
 years ago : 
 
 362 
 
APPENDIX 363 
 
 WEIGHT FOR AGE. 
 
 SIX YEARS 
 
 THREE YEARS. FOUR YEARS. FIVE YEARS. 
 
 AND AGED. 
 
 English ... 8 st. lib. 8 st. 12 Ibs. 9 st. lib. 9 st. 3 Ibs. 
 Australian and 
 
 Tasmanian... 7 2 ,, 8 6 8 13 ,, ,, 
 
 Cape ... 7 3 ,, 8 5 8 12 ,, 
 
 Country-breds 7 ,, 7 ,, 8 ,, 4 8 12 ,, 
 
 Arabs ... 7 7 ,, 8 4 8 12 
 
 (For each class when running without any other class.) 
 
 WEIGHT FOR AGE AND CLASS. 
 
 THREE YEARS. FOUR YEARS. FIVE YEARS. AM) AGED 
 
 English ... 8 st. 12 Ibs. 9 st. 9 Ibs. 9 st. 12 Ibs. 10 st. Olbs. 
 Australian and 
 
 Tasmanian ... 
 
 7 
 
 5 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 9 
 
 2 
 
 9 
 
 6 
 
 > > 
 
 Cape 
 
 6 
 
 12 
 
 8 
 
 o 
 
 8 
 
 7 !', 
 
 8 
 
 ,,12 
 
 ,, 
 
 Country-breds 
 
 6 
 
 10 
 
 7 
 
 ,, 7 ,, 
 
 8 
 
 1 ,, 
 
 8 
 
 ,, 6 
 
 ,, 
 
 Arabs 
 
 5 
 
 10 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 7 ,, 
 
 1 ,, 
 
 7 
 
 6 
 
 > 
 
 (When more than one class run together, colonial-breds and Arabs to 
 be raised 10 Ibs. when running together without any other class.) 
 
 WEIGHT FOR CLASS. 
 
 English 10 st. Olbs. 
 
 Australian and Tasmanian ... ... 9 ,, 6 ,, 
 
 Cape 8 12 ,, 
 
 Country-breds ... ... ... 8 ,, 6 ,, 
 
 Arabs ... ... ... ... ... 7 ,, 6 ,, 
 
 India in some respects offered excellent facilities 
 to those taking an active interest in the subject 
 of horse-breeding. The formation of a good 
 stud was not nearly so expensive a thing as in 
 England. Land was cheap, and the climate 
 without the cold driving rain, snow, and frost 
 
364 APPENDIX 
 
 which is such a drawback here. The banks of a 
 river with a gentle slope and with sweet water 
 was a capital position, provided there was plenty 
 of shelter from the sun. Extensive paddocks for 
 the weaned foals cost no very considerable sum, 
 and they could easily be planted with an Indian 
 grass called, I fancy, the herriala an excellent 
 substitute for ordinary English pasture. Barley 
 and some of the other Indian cereals were, it is 
 true, expensive, but a species of maize, known as 
 New England corn, was cheap and quite service- 
 able. During the rainy season it throve, and 
 could also be made to grow during both the cold 
 and hot weather by means of artificial irrigation. 
 At a very moderate cost of about eight rupees or 
 so, an acre's crop would give a horse about 5 Ibs. 
 of corn a day. Oats too could be grown, and 
 if allowed as a cold-weather crop to go to ear, 
 made good hay. The most considerable item in 
 making a stud in India was permanent airy 
 stabling for the stallions, and even this was not 
 a very extravagant one. 
 
APPENDIX 365 
 
 PEDESTRIANISM. 
 
 THE details of Cotton's great walk from 
 Ashbourne in Derbyshire to Auchlyne in 
 Perthshire may be best supplied by the follow- 
 ing notes which he took himself at the time : 
 "Left Ashbourne 12.8 a.m. on Monday, August 
 15, 1881, accompanied by Pegg of Derby, 
 the best man of his age in England at fair 
 walking on a road. Keached Leek (fifteen miles) 
 at 3.41 : pace for first seven miles poor, as it 
 blew hard in our teeth. Did not halt at Leek, 
 but went on to Bosley (seven miles), which we 
 reached at 5.29. Halted at the Sun for half- 
 an-hour, had four glasses of milk and bread-and- 
 butter ; had boots off, and feet attended to. 
 Left at six o'clock and reached Allington (thirty- 
 four miles from the start), at 8.32. Had tub, 
 and breakfasted in bed, after which got an hour 
 and a half s sleep and woke feeling very fit : 
 no pain in the feet. Took it easy till 3.30. 
 Pegg very angry, saying that I was wasting 
 too much time, and that we ought to have 
 started at 12 o'clock. I was in capital form, 
 and walked to Manchester (fifteen miles) in 
 three hours and seven minutes. Stopped 
 
366 APPENDIX 
 
 fifteen minutes, and went on to Halshaw 
 Moor (nine miles), which we reached at 9.7. Had 
 hot tub then, which freshened me up very much ; 
 feet very painful though, as from Haselgrove 
 through Stockport to Manchester and all the 
 way from Halshaw Moor the roads were 
 paved, 1 and in some places very badly paved 
 too. Got to bed at 11.30, but could not sleep 
 as my feet were awful : may possibly have 
 slept two hours, but certainly not more than 
 that. Pegg came to my room at 4.30, attended 
 to my feet, and improved them. But when I 
 first stood on them it seemed utterly impossible 
 that I could ever walk the three miles into 
 Bolton. However, after a basin of bread-and- 
 milk, I started at 6.30 (Tuesday morning) for 
 Preston. At a small inn, eight miles beyond 
 Bolton and thirteen from Preston, I halted, 
 had both boots changed, and feet, which were 
 worse than ever, attended to. After one hour's 
 rest I went on, and after eight hours of great 
 pain reached Preston at 2.30. Eested at Bull 
 Hotel till four o'clock, when I started for 
 Garstang (eleven miles) on the Lancaster Koad. 
 Fainted twice. Pegg begged me stop, and give 
 it up. However, I managed to reach Garstang 
 1 Owing to the very heavy traffic in this district, 
 
APPENDIX 367 
 
 at 7.55. Lay down ; was looked after by Pegg ; 
 had two strong cups of green tea, which did 
 wonders for me ; had eggs and chops, and started 
 for Lancaster (eleven miles more) at 9 o'clock. 
 This was far the worst stage of the whole week's 
 walk, as I was frequently nearly doubled up with 
 cramp ; and had Pegg not rubbed me every two 
 hundred yards or so for the last three miles, I 
 could never have reached Lancaster. At 1.15 
 a.m. I arrived at the County Hotel, Lancaster. 
 Went at once to bed, and after an hour's 
 attention Pegg left me. I slept from 3 till 
 6.30, when Pegg came. Strange to say, my feet, 
 though very bad and terribly swollen, were not 
 quite so painful as the previous day, and I began 
 to think that it was just possible I might win 
 after all. At 10.45 I started for Kendal 
 (twenty-two and a half miles), reached the King's 
 Arms Hotel at 5 o'clock. Lay down ; had tea 
 and eggs ; feet no worse ; spirits getting well 
 up. Started again at 7.15 for Penrith (twenty- 
 six miles). I felt wonderfully fresh and well 
 except for my feet. However, I gradually lost 
 my pace, and suffered terribly from cramp. Pegg 
 was most attentive, and again constantly rubbed 
 me. Back of neck intensely painful; could 
 hardly hold head up at all. Arrived at Hotel 
 
368 APPENDIX 
 
 at 3 o'clock a.m. ; straight to bed ; did not 
 get up till 9 ; had six and a half hours' sleep, 
 and woke wonderfully fresh and well. Felt that 
 I should win. Started for Carlisle at 11, and 
 reached it (eighteen miles) at 3.48. Walked 
 better than I had since Monday. Eested at 
 Carlisle ; had tea, chops, and poached eggs. 
 Left at 6 for Lockerbie (twenty-six miles), 
 which I reached at 2.15, after resting for an 
 hour on the way. Went to bed at King's Arms 
 Hotel; slept from 2.30 till 6.30, when Pegg 
 came ; feet no worse, but right ankle badly 
 swollen and very painful. Bound it tightly. 
 Started at 10.45 for Beattrell (fourteen miles), 
 which I reached at one minute to 2. Felt so 
 fresh, did not halt, but went on sixteen miles 
 more to Crawford, which I reached at 6.3, having 
 done the thirty miles in pouring rain, with a mac- 
 kintosh on, in seven hours and sixteen minutes. 
 Felt very fit the whole time. Got close to 
 a roaring fire, and was well rubbed ; had hot 
 whisky-and-water, chops, eggs, and tea. A man 
 who was shooting there kindly sent me a bottle 
 of Bollinger, which I polished off just before 
 I started again. Left for Lanark (twenty- one 
 miles) at 9 o'clock, which I reached very beat 
 (having rested for half-an-hour in a building 
 
APPENDIX 369 
 
 by the roadside) at 3.18. Knees and right ankle 
 gave me great pain. Had to be helped to bed ; 
 could see that Pegg thought I had no chance 
 of finishing the journey. However, he fomented 
 my ankle well, which gave great relief, and 
 left me at 4 a.m. I started again, feeling 
 awfully stale, for Airdrie (nineteen miles) at 
 9.15. After a rest for half-an-hour, I got there 
 at 3.45, very much exhausted, and in great pain. 
 I was so cold that I had seven blankets on me, 
 and drank two glasses of hot brandy -and- water. 
 Nearly wired to say I was beaten. However, 
 I had an hour's sleep, and woke like a new man. 
 Had a good feed, and started again at 6.30 for 
 Bridge of Allan. This was a mistake, as I ought 
 to have stopped at Stirling instead of going 
 up to Bridge of Allan, which lengthened the 
 journey. After resting for twenty-five minutes at 
 a roadside inn, I reached Bridge of Allan at 1.48. 
 Dead beat, and ankle very painful. Had supper 
 and a hot mustard bath, which had a marvellous 
 effect. Pegg left me at 3 a.m., and I slept till 
 G.30. When he came, my ankle was decidedly 
 better. Started at eight o'clock exactly, and 
 reached Callander (fourteen and a half miles) at 
 11.7. Felt sure I should win then; rested at 
 Hotel for one hour and fifteen minutes, had soup, 
 
 B B 
 
370 APPENDIX 
 
 and started at 12.20 for Lochearnhead. Stopped 
 at Strathyre, where Frank Arkwright has a 
 shoot. Had capital lunch. Started again at 
 4.25, and reached Auchlyne at 8.30. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 " This short account of the walk will show 
 clearly how little sleep can on an emergency be 
 sufficient. I am quite sure that in the 164 
 hours and twenty-two minutes that I was on 
 my journey I did not sleep twenty-five hours. 
 It also shows that however beat a man may 
 be, there is always a bit left if he will only 
 harden his heart. Never say die. I did not 
 drink ten shillings' worth of anything stronger 
 than tea the whole time, with the exception of 
 the bottle of champagne given me at Craw- 
 ford by a good Samaritan, who was staying 
 there. The horse that accompanied me with 
 a dog-cart, and took my luggage from place to 
 place, was beaten three days before the finish, 
 and I had to leave it and hire another. 
 
 " F. C." 
 
APPENDIX 371 
 
 BALLOONING. 
 
 ON September 31, 1874, Monsieur Durouf 
 and his wife, in order to satisfy a disappointed 
 crowd at Calais, made a balloon ascent from 
 that town. They were carried away in a 
 north-easterly direction across the Channel. 
 After many narrow escapes in the darkness 
 which had overtaken them, as they were rash 
 enough to make the ascent at a late hour in 
 the day, the aeronauts were picked up near 
 the Doggerbank in an almost lifeless condition, 
 and conveyed in a fishing-smack to Grimsby. 
 
RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED, 
 LONDON* & BUNGAY. 
 
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