Racing and 'Chasing: a collection of sporting stories ... With illustrations by C. E. Brock, H. M. Brock, etc

Front matter

SPORTING STORIES THE MARE RESPONDED, AND WON CLEVER1Y BY A NECK RACING AND 'CHASING A COLLECTION OF SPORTING STORIE8 BY ALFBED E. T. WATSON -7C AUTHOR OF 'SKETCHES IN THE HUNTING FIELD 'RACE COURSE AND COVERT SIDE ' ETC. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY CHAELES E. BROCK, H. M. BROCK, G. H. JALLAND HARINGTON BIRD, & G. D. GILES LONGMANS, GBEEN, AND CO. 39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON NEW YORK AND BOMBAY 1897 All rights reserved To H. B. McCALMONT, Esq. M.P. &c. The good old fashion of dedication is a pleasant one, as it enables an author to associate his work with the name of a friend. For several years past I have been indebted to your kindness for so much sport and pastime, on land and sea, that I welcome the opportunity of inscribing my little collection of sporting stories to you — an owner of winners ranging from 'Isinglass' to 'Lemon Squash' 1 Yours ever, ALFRED E. T. WATSON.

Preface

In these days, when so many books are issued, some excuse seems to be required for the publication of a volume of reprints. I can only plead the cordial recep tion which was given to my former books, ' Sketches in the Hunting Field,' and 'Bace Course and Covert Side,' by the critics and the readers to whom I en deavoured specially to appeal. The world of sport may be a limited one, but that its limits are enormous cannot be doubted by anybody who surveys the crowd at Epsom on the Derby Day, or at Aintree when the horses are at the post for the Grand National. I have to return thanks to Sir William Ingram for the kind permission he gave me to republish those of the following stories and sketches which appeared in the ' Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News ' during the years that 1 edited that journal.

Palace Gate House, Kensington October 1897. CONTENTS TAGS A Question of Bits Phyllis and Ophelia in A Good Day 4U The Great Downshire Handicap gg His Own Petard o-^ A Short Head gg A Eux 118 The Wrong Man jga A Good Thing ■ . . . ■ j5- Too Clever ........ 178 Fox-hunting: a Sketch for Boys 202 A Lucky Mistake 213 A Morning at Newmarket ...... 233 Making the Running 252 Steeple-Chasing 27g The Derby 292 The Discomfiture of Mrs. Trimmings .... 31 c- An Over-reach P2q a LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FULL-PAGE The Mare responded, and won cleverly by a Neck . Frontispiece Refused with a deliberation which Spurs and Whip ARE POWERLESS TO AFFECT ..... to fClCC p. 8 Oakley held up his Handkerchief and shouted 'Go!' „ 14 Even when put side by side with the other, the Likeness was not lost ..... „ 28 Gradually drawing away 56 Fortunatus, going well within himself, is coming on Neck and Neck with Puzzle .... ,, 76 Hedworth was now Leading ....... „ 92 General Tbuffles, who merely Hunts for an Appetite, is busy ,, 120 It is wonderful how slippery Saddles are ... „ 124 One Man is placidly sitting on a Gate ... ,, 134 ' Any hope of seeing you up North, Sir George ? '. ,, 146 Hugh read the rest of the Letter to Himself . ,, 150 Passed the improvised Winning-post three lengths to the good ........ ,, 190 An angry Command from the Huntfman ... „ 208 ' You must go away from my Garden.

I cannot have People sitting here ! ' . . . . . . ,, 320 Sat on a Sofa and regaled the Girls with a Description of the Weather .... ,, 322 IN THE TEXT Osborne was naturally radiant as he received his Friends' Congratulations 37 'Any Advance on 150L ? ' 42 ' What's that ? ' I asked List of Illustrations XII J'AGE A NICE-LOOKING LITTLE BoY CAME FORWARD 64 The Chesnut swept by in his Canter ..... 74 They all disappeared from his view with amazing suddenness 94 Perkinson set off Walking Homewards 96 The little Black Beast • 107 That turn of the Head ......... 108 Fool that he had been ! 116 Tom turns round with a warning Finger . . . . • 122 A bad Seat and bad Hands 128 Neatly slips over a Rail that rises beyond . .... 133 On the look-out for Rustic Half-crowns 165 The two Animals were just going out 169 Fisherman is over First 173 ' A nice-looking One, that ! ' . . . . . . . . 188 Enraged to see the jubilant Look on the Face of Weekes . 198 The Boy had all his work to stop him 219 ' That little Chesnut Brute goes well ' . . . . . 223 ' Roquelaure Wins I Come on, Roquelaure ! ' . . . . 226 Morning Exercise 239 Cantering by on his Hack ........ 241 Between the Canters ......... 247 Won in a Canter 250 Drove Cecil to Waterloo ........ 258 ' You pull back a bit '......... 269 In the Paddock .......... 271 Since our Forefathers had Spins against each other . . 278 Started off on a Steeple-chase forthwith . . . . . 280 Caught his Horse by the Tail 283 He comes over in grand style ....... 289 Her Interview with his Worship ...... 318 It looked almost a Dead Heat 330 ' He looks well, doesn't he ? ' . 336 The Flag was up, and down it fell RACING AND 'CHASING A QUESTION OF BITS CHAPTEB I The Glebeshire Hunt does certainly for the most part fancy itself, as the phrase goes.

If you talked of provincial packs to a member of the hunt, it would never for a moment occur to him that you could by any possibility mean to include the Glebeshire, while a secret sentiment prevails in the bosom of many followers of these hounds that High Leicestershire is absurdly over-praised, and that what is called the cream of that famous country is very often only skim milk. There is cream to be found elsewhere, the Glebeshire men think, and there are those elsewhere who can appreciate cream. This pride is sufficiently praiseworthy if it be not excessive. It is well for a man to have a good opinion of his surroundings, and if Glebeshire is not all that fond admirers maintain, it is only fair to admit that a good pack, handled in a sportsmanlike way, run well after straightnecked foxes in a diversified district, and that a very fair proportion of the followers ride well to hounds.

Some men are always dissatisfied under every variety of circumstances, and Henry Lawford, who formed a !_*-> b prominent figure in a group by the covert side one day in early December, is an instance. Lawford bad every thing to make him cheerful, except, indeed, that he possessed a disposition which is well described by the word nasty. Whether scent depends on the condition of the ground, or on the temperature, whether Somerville is right, or whether Beckford has good ground for his criticism on the subject in the course of his remarks on the bard of ' The Chase,' is a point which need not be here discussed, especially as the writer's well-grounded (as he supposes) opinions of one season are frequently upset altogether the following year. Men generally think they know when scent will be good.

Very often they are wrong ; but there is comfort in the hope, and Common Down, the meet of the day, held out every promise. Furthermore, Lawford could ride, and he was mounted on a big bay mare, an ex-chaser that looked extremely like business. Lawford could un doubtedly ride. He had courage, and was thoroughly accustomed to the saddle. He fancied that he was a sound horseman, in thesense of understanding the animal and the delicacies of the art of riding him, and here Lawford was wrong ; but men sometimes are wrong in their own estimate of their knowledge of horses. Other instances have been known besides Lawford. Two or three acquaintances, conventionally called friends, were chatting in a group with him as they awaited the arrival of the hounds. There was a good attendance of sturdy Glebeshire farmers on strong, useful-looking animals — the Glebeshire farmer rides heavy ; a famous jockey and trainer on a young chaser was there with his daughter on a once famous handicap winner, now a family hunter, and a couple of his sons, one on a pony and the other on a thoroughbred, which the lad, evidently inheriting the paternal skill, handled with ease and adroitness.

The doctor, on the animal that did duty between the shafts ; a few red coats, several blacks, and a sprinkling of tweeds, with a concourse of carriages in the green lane which bounded the covert on one side, formed details of the scene. ' So you had a fair thirty minutes on Tuesday ? ' Lawford says to a visitor from a neighbouring hunt, about which Glebeshire is not jealous — only, somehow, it does not accept very cordially the record of smart things. 'A very good forty,' is the reply. ' Yes, they say forty, I know ; but when I hear of runs I always knock off twenty-five per cent. I find you get nearer to it,' Lawford replies, sneeringly. ' You mean that you are likely to arrive at a more accurate estimate of the precise circumstances ? ' says Starchley, who has an unhappy taste for fine language.

Starchley, beautifully got up, never misses a meet, rides up early to the covert side, empties his flask, smokes a cigarette, and after cantering over a field or two, goes home under the impression that he has been hunting. ' You'll find mine a very useful rule,' Lawford continues. ' Bepeated experiences warrant its application ? ' Starchley suggests ; but no one answers him, so he has some sherry. The visitor knows Lawford, and does not care about arguing. ' What are you riding, Lawford ? Isn't that the beast that bolted with you last week ? ' another of the group inquires, after glancing down the lane to see if the hounds are in sight. b ' Lawford has set up an ironmonger's shop, and he's carrying samples in his horse's mouth,' someone else says, pointing to the mare's head, where, in fact, a good deal of metal is hanging. ' Yes, but I charge ready money, so I can't serve you, I'm afraid,' he replies to the last piece of mild chaff. ' She bolted with me last week, as you say, but I'll take care she doesn't do it this time.

Halloo ! what's that ? ' he continues, pointing to a field on the other side of the road, over which a handsome chesnut mare is progressing in a series of bucks and bounds. She is clearly in a very bad temper. Something has ruffled her equanimity — if she ever had any — and she is doing all she knows — her knowledge in this direction being extensive — to get rid of her rider, a groom who sits very tight and is not much disturbed. ' What a brute ! It's Chippenham's — there he is, in that phaeton, with the old lady, his aunt. I wonder how he likes the prospect of riding the chesnut ? ' a young man on a steady-looking cob remarks. ' It doesn't matter much to him. Now, he's a good man, Lawford,' Oakley says ; but Lawford does not answer. There is a good man, a very good man, in the hunt, Lawford is known to think ; only his name is not Chippenham. ' He went very straight on Tuesday, you'll admit ? ' 'He did.

Quite straight — through a line of open gates. Never turned away from one of them,' and the pointed ends of his moustache emphasised his sneering smile. ' He did, and so did Charlton,' Oakley replies, naming a famous steeplechase rider. ' He wasn't donkey enough to jump when it wasn't necessary. He also went over Merrow's farm without turning his head, though Charlton on Peeping Peggy nearly got into the brook beyond the spinney. But I forgot, my dear Lawford. You didn't see this, as your mare had put you down in a damp ditch some time before.' Lawford did not by any means relish the allusion. ' The mare clumsily jumped into a fence and came down,' he says, with a flush on his cheeks. ' It does happen that way sometimes, as you'll find out when you know a little more about it. Even Charlton, you see, was nearly in a mess on a perfect jumper.' ' Chippenham's sapience does not permit him to jeopardise his neck on that animal,' Starchley says, directing attention to the phaeton.

The chesnut mare, after refusing for a long time to go near the carriage, had been ridden up to it, and the result of a brief colloquy between master and man was that the mare's head was turned from the scene of action. She carried away a few yards of fence, refusing the gap and declining to jump, and was progressing sideways over the field she had previously crossed, apparently giving very spirited imitations of the severer exercises of the manege. The sneer on Lawford's face intensified. ' Your straight rider is evidently in a funk. He daren't get on that mare. Doesn't know how to manage her, though with a horseman on her back she'd go well enough. The art of horsemanship doesn't consist entirely of sitting over a fence. It implies a knowledge of the horse and its ways that everybody hasn't got who climbs into a saddle and hangs on by the reins.' Starchley was on the point of translating this sen tence into something elaborate to an uncommon degree when the hounds approached, trotted past the cottages at the doors of which women and children stood to watch, and so to the covert.

It was a bit late, so that after exchanging a few hasty greetings with his friends, the Master nodded to the huntsman, who in turn waved to the pack. In a very few seconds they are in the well-grown coppice, the thick undergrowth of which looked just the place for a fox. As for Chippenham, it was obvious that he did not intend to ride. We had fancied, and somehow or other had hoped, that the chesnut, which unquestionably had been behaving badly, was merely being ridden about till the sport began. Chippenham, however, sat holding the reins of the phaeton horses, as if with no intention of leaving the seat. The chesnut did not reappear. Lawford watched with a contemptuous grin till he entered the covert, which the huntsman was losing no time in drawing up wind. Of Chippenham we knew little. He had been abroad for a long time, and had only come a few weeks before to stay with his aunt, Lady Stockbridge ; but, whatever Lawford might say, Chippenham rode the three or four hunters he had brought down with much skill and courage.

We felt that he was a sportsman, and knew that he was a gentleman, while, straight as Lawford did undoubtedly ride, we did not feel that he, with his constant habit of detracting from everyone's good points, could be granted either of those enviable titles which were Chippenham's due. Something is astir in the covert. A loud halloo resounds from the far end, and the remarks the hunts man is muttering to himself as he canters down the ride a moment afterwards show what opinion he holds of the young enthusiast who did not know when to hold his tongue. If there were time, and our excellent Joe had the opportunity of five minutes' conversation with the gentleman who hallooed, the latter's ideas concerning the rudiments of fox-hunting would be materially changed. A yell of another kind, however, evidently means business.

The joylul shout of the first whip is not to be mistaken, and he would not shout unless there was good reason. A couple of notes on the horn inform hounds that the occasion for their best energies has arisen, and away we pour down the ride and through tbe hand gate, except some few who turn to the left through a belt of trees and scramble over the fence, which gives them no advantage, however, as hounds speedily swing round to the right. Starchley, with much regret, throws away a half-smoked cigarette and trots after the field, now half across a big stubble, out of which a couple of hares have just cantered with the easy stride of hares which perfectly well understand that they are not wanted, and nobody will interfere with them. At the end of the field, separating the stubble from a wide expanse of grass, is a very comfortable fence, a hedge and ditch, just one of those little places which give the timid man confidence as his horse glides quietly over.

If by chance there is a stiff post and rail, or a well-grown, thickly fledged bullfinch at the beginning of a run before the man who is not quite certain of his horse, and possibly still less certain of himself, demorali sation is not unlikely to set in. To begin well is to do much. In some parts the fence consists simply of a few twigs ; in others it is thicker, near to the description of a ' lair hunting fence,' and it is to one of the latter places that Lawford makes his way. As the mare crosses the stubble it is obvious that she would bolt for two pins — supposing that two pins would be anything in the nature of an inducement to a well-schooled mare that has won steeplechases. Chippenham is standing in his trap, watching ; Starchley, after looking up and down for the gate, spies one and very placidly trots towards it.

The leading division jump the fence as if it were not there, most of the farmers go without looking twice, the trainer and his daughter take no notice of it, but the boy on the thoroughbred blunders in consequence of his eager horse taking off too soon, whereupon the other boy on the cob, the trainer's younger son, chuckles merrily. With much movement of arms and legs a stranger in a frock coat and a beautiful pair of light trousers, rucked half-way up to his knees already, canters up and gets over ; truly, he lands on his horse's neck, loses a stirrup and drops his hat and whip ; but he jumped it. The fence was not the terrific and almost insurmountable obstacle it will be made to appear in his thrilling narration of the incident when he gets back to London. There he is the right side, however, which is much, and in the saddle too, which is more.

But what has become of Lawford, meantime ? He, unfortunately, is not the right side. WTith vivid remembrances of his last day on the mare h_ has brought a cutting whip instead of a hunting crop, hoping, perhaps, that it may remind her of former expeditions between the flags ; and this be plies with a will. She has simply cantered up to the fence and refused to jump, refused with a deliberation which spurs and whip are powerless to affect. Lawford is left by himself, and has sufficient judgment to see that for the moment he cannot have his way in opposition to the mare. A couple of farmers are making for a gate away REFUSED WITH A DELIBERATION WHICH SPURS AND WHIP ARE POWERLESS TO AFFECT to the right. Towards this hounds have swung. As they are going, one side of the fence is as good as the other, so, no doubt with bitter reluctance, he follows after the farmers, goes through the gate — the mare does not mind this — and is not quite the last into the covert for which the fox has made.

This covert is newly planted, and the quarry does not dwell. Charlton, who is just before him, turns abruptly to the left. The trainer and his children, Oakley, and one or two more follow, as does Lawford, and before the latter knows where he is he has jumped a really awkward fence, newly and strongly made up, with a ditch on both sides. So they go, well up with hounds, towards a low post and rails, which the leaders clear in their stride. As they approach Lawford feels a hesitation in the mare's gallop ; a cut from the whip and a vicious dig of the spurs she only answers by a shake of the head. She comes down to it, and deliberately refuses. There is no gate here ; it is a very long way to hounds by any other road except over, and over the mare will not go. He does all he knows, but he does not know enough to succeed.

It was in consequence of her form in the hunting-field, in no way spoilt by her experiences between the flags, that Lawford had bought her, for a long price, when she got a bit too slow for chasing. She had never gone quite kindly with him. They had enjoyed some fair runs — she seemed to like it, but lately had got more and more awkward ; had refused to jump, and bolted with him, an occurrence the repetition of which he determined to prevent by providing the severest bit he could come across. Yet she could jump, as her manner of crossing that fence out of the plantation had shown. Lawford used strong language in vain. When hounds were out of sight his energetic addresses to the animal — vocal and instru mental — had done no good, and in the end, the whole hunt having disappeared, he was constrained to turn round and trot off homewards, the mare bending her head up and down in a regular rhythm, which soon provoked an angry tug at the reins.

CHAPTEB II The next night a number of us dined with the Master of the Glebeshire, Lord Fallowmere. Lawford had by no means recovered that little good temper which occasionally he possessed. His morning occupation had not improved his humour. It was not a hunting day, but he had caused the mare to be saddled, and had set him self to find out what was the matter with her. She was obviously sound enough in herself. Often when horses refuse to jump there is something wrong — a strain, a sprain, some hurt which perhaps leaves little or no out ward indication, but is enough to make them shrink from the exertion of a leap. She galloped so strong and well that this could not be the cause of her persistent refusals. She did not go kindly, perhaps, but clearly there was nothing physically wrong. Nevertheless, irritating and perplexing as the morning's work had been, before we went into dinner Lawford had found something to amuse him.

Somebody had said that Chippenham, keen and fearless, would just have liked ' taking it out of ' the chesnut mare we had seen' mis behaving at the meet, only that an old servant of the family who had nursed him when he was a child was very ill, and he had given up his day's fun in order to drive Lady Stockbridge over to see her. ' Too thin, my dear fellow, a very great deal too thin,' Lawford replied. ' If he had been mounted on a steady-going cob, you may depend upon it he would have let his nurse slide. Nurse! That's a good joke. The ardour of his desire to see his nurse was in proportion to that chesnut mare's kicks. Your straight rider is a fraud ! ' ' Well, you know, you only rode straight as far as the first fence yesterday, and then you and your mare got as crooked as you could be,' Oakley rejoined, nettled at the sarcasm directed at his friend.

Conversation in their corner of the drawing-room was checked by the entrance of the subject of their remarks, Chippenham himself, and soon after a move was made downstairs, where for a couple of hours the horse and the hound, together with that sporting little beast who is the occasion for so much sport in others, Beynard the Fox, were scarcely mentioned. With the departure of the ladies men began to talk as they will talk in a hunting country at the table of a M.F.H. Oakley was chaffed about hunting in a green coat when green was not the colour of the hunt, the explanation of which was that he had lately jumped into a very weedy duck-pond, with so thick a layer of vegeta tion on the surface that, being very short-sighted, and having dropped his glass out of his eye, he had fancied he was landing on to a smooth bit of turf, whereas he was not landing at all.

Then the conversation turned on horses that ' looked like jumping.' ' That bay mare of Lawford's looks like jumping till she gets to the fences,' Oakley remarked. ' Now, how are we to judge her ? What about a mare that looks like jumping under those circumstances, and won't jump ? ' ' Her conformation is noteworthy for the points on which Lord Fallowmere insists,'- Starchley rejoins. ' That chesnut animal of yours must look awfully like jumping, Chippenham, for she jumps all over the place when you don't want her to. She ought to be a regular model of a jumper,' Oakley cheerily puts in. ' Inconveniently like jumping, Mr. Chippenham, I should fancy,' Lawford goes on, with intention. ' Happy is the man who has the driving seat of a mail phaeton, which does not jump, to fly to.' ' My mare is rather young at it, but she promises well when she isn't upset,' Chippenham quietly replied. ' I should like to see a match between the pair of them, Chippenham's and Lawford's, if I had nothing to do for the next fortnight.

In that time Lawford would get three miles or so if he had luck and went just a bit faster than he did to-day. I haven't seen enough of Chippenham's, but your beast does look like a jumper, Lawford,' Oakley said. ' Yes, I don't remember to have seen one that looks more like it,' Chippenham said, innocently enough ; but the speech touched Lawford on the raw. If the horse looked like jumping and did not jump, the inference — whether intended or not — was that the fault lay with the rider. Lawford, as already observed, fancied himself, not without some sort of reason, and it was a very sore point with him that he had been left at the fence over which such a rider as that young man in the frock coat had succeeded in crossing. His dinner had not done him any good, and he was quite ready to differ from anybody.

If he could persuade Chippenham, of whom the others seemed to hold an absurdly good opinion, to get on the mare which so steadily refused to do what he had bought her to do, his character as a horseman would be to a great extent vindicated, and a man of whom he had conceived a violent jealousy would be humiliated. Moreover, he was convinced that the story of the nurse was a fiction, and that Chippenham had in truth funked. ' If you think my mare looks so much like jumping, Mr. Chippenham, no doubt you can make her jumj). She carried me well enough early in the season, and if you are a horseman, she \yill probably carry you equally well, though she was awkward yesterday. Look here, I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll bet you a hundred she refuses with you if you ride her next time we are out ; or I'll bet you another hundred you don't get her over the course the point-to-point chase was run across last month ; or — yes, here's an idea — I'll ride you a match.

I've got old Crusader at home ; he's just about the mare's form — perhaps a bit worse — it's a very near thing be tween them. I'll ride you a match for a monkey, if you like. You on my mare that you seem to think so well of.' ' I don't bet hundreds and monkeys, thanks,' Chippenham answered. ' I only remember your mare when Gates had her, and she was useful then in moderate company. I saw her jump out of a covert yesterday as if she were sound enough.' Gates, it should be remarked, is a gentleman rider who trains a few horses for his friends, has a great many of his own, and through whose stables nearly all the second-class chasers on the turf pass during their career. ' Then let's have some fun,' Lawford, whose idea of fun was rather saturnine, responded ; ' and we can't if you go hunting with ladies in phaetons.

It's safe, I know, but it's less amusing, I should think. Come ! let's make a match of some kind.' ' Go on,' Oakley said, encouragingly. ' I should like to see what you could do with Lawford's mare. Bide her against Crusader.' ' I have no objection, if you think it will entertain you,' Chippenham said, and terms were arranged. The match was to be for 25L a-side, as Chippenham was not a betting man. He was to have the mare for a week under his charge — she was already pretty fit to go — and on the following Thursday he was to ride over the point-to point course against Lawford on his horse Crusader. Not without satisfaction Lawford remembered that the course in question included two of the jumps which his mare had very decidedly refused with him ; and where a horse refuses once it is very apt to refuse again.