Scott and Sebright

Front matter

LONDON

Frederick Warne & Co., Publishers.

SCIENCE SIMPLIFIED.

Preface

§ THIRD work of the same class scarcely calls for a preface, except as pure matter of form. In writing it I have adhered strictly to my original plan of endeavouring to fill up from oral evidence some blanks in the sporting history of the last seventy years; and where I have had the good fortune to meet with an especially well-known character, I have got him, Dick Christian fashion, to give the public the butt end of his mind in the first person. The three books must be taken as a whole, and hence any seeming omissions, or very slight notice of a celebrated man or horse in the present one, will generally be accounted for by reference to its predecessors. The difficulty of the task has been great, as no two men ever seemed to give precisely the same account of anything, and on some points I have despaired of getting more than an approximation to the exact _ truth, amid so many conflicting statements. The name of “ Post and Paddock” could cause no mistake, but “Silk and Scarlet” deluded a few into

Iv Preface.

the belief that it was a contribution to Church Polemics. When I had to think out a third title, I did hope that by adopting the names of two of their most accomplished practitioners as the types of The Turf and The Chase, I ran no risk of being misunderstood ; but still I found one of my old Rugby schoolfellows under the firm belief that by the heading “ Sebright” I must be taken to contemplate a treatise on Bantams.

As regards the first three chapters, I have nothing to remark, except that I have handled the great winners as nearly as possible in chronological order, and separated man from horse by a pony chapter, which, with about twenty pages more, has already appeared in print. “The Flag” part of the fourth chapter is a mere fragment, for the sake of illustrating the career of one of its most celebrated riders, when steeple-chasing really was a sport; and both “ The Stag” and “The Drag” might have been worked out much more fully if there had been space at command.

10, KENSINGTON SQUARE, Fune 10th, 1862.

Table Of Contents

CHAPTER &- TURF WORTHIES,

A word at starting—Horse traditions—Old sporting writers—Eccentric Turf characters—Old Q.—Colonel Thornton—The Swaffham Club —Cricketing and archery—The dawn of Goodwood—The driving era—Ascot qualification tickets—Doncaster Moor to wit—The Prince Regent at Bibury—Dr. Cyril Jackson on Bibury and Hunting —Dean Milner’s interview with Mendoza—Sir Tatton Sykes and his sheep tastes—His little difficulty with Mr. Baker of Elemore—His early days in London—His probation in Lincoln’s Inn—-Humours of the Yorkshire shrievalties—A word with Lord Thurlow—Sir Tatton’s race-riding—Visits to Doncaster—His rides to London—The old race of Turfites—The old Derby course—Early betting—The certainties of ’17—How they kept the course at Epsom—The year of Gustavus and Augusta—The Warren Hill parade—The Nomination night at York-—-The Leger eve at the Salutation—-Crutch Robinson’s sayings and doings—Michael Brunton—The old school of Yorkshire trainers : Thuytes—His views on tails and trainng—Mark Plews— His interview with the Marquis of Queensberry—John Smith—Mrs, Smith’s love for Middleham—Old Sykes and his cards inspection— Billy Pierse—-Mrs. Pierse’s training tact—His test of two-year-old form—Tact in stopping a quarrel—His studies in Political Economy —The Borodino tip in the bedroom—Old Forth—Buckle, Robinson, and Chifney—Grandfather Day and Tom Goodisson— Wheatley and Clift—Bill Arnull on money matters—William Edwards—Plot to make Orville run away—John Jackson—Ben Smith—Malaprop sayings of Ben—Early humours of Bob Johnson—First mount on General Chassé—His perpetual thirds for the St. Leger—His fall at Doncaster—Colloquies and correspondence with Mr. Ord—The

Contents

Pilgrim’s rest at Gosforth—Sam Darling’s wastes—Mr. Horsley’s story of Sam—Winning the St. Leger on Rockingham—John and Sam Day’s first pony race—Sam in the crate—Grandfather Day— John Day as a jockey—His race on Amphitrite—His waste walk and Danebury discipline—Sir John Mills at Stockbridge races— Isaac Day— Uncle Sam in the Epsom paddock—Uncle Sam on the pipe—His lecture on wasting—His London practice—Early tuition of john and Bill Scott—Filho da’Puta’s match—Looking over the Squeers lot—The sporting bagman—Performances of Filho—Dispute about his name—John’s riding—Life on Sherwood Forest— Forest privileges—Birth of Matilda—Mr, Petre’s career—Biull Scott’s jockeyship—His riding of Attila—His amusements—Visit to Harrogate—Training of his colt, Sir Tatton Sykes—The Whitewall snuggery—Pictures of the cracks—The Whitewall dining-room—The guests at Whitewall—Baron Alderson’s visit—Old Cyprian—Langton Wold—The schoolmaster at home—‘‘ Ben” and the hounds— John Scott’s commentaries—Pavis and Conolly—lIsaac Day’s descent with Little Boy Blue—Jemmy Chapple—A word on Nat—Job Marson—Frank Butler’s surprise with The West—Colloquy with Isaac Walker on the Moors—The Old Victory jacket—Last days of Frank—Mr. Theobald of Stockwell—Camel—Mr. Bransby Cooper’s opinion of him—Stockwell sires—Mr. Theobald’s love of being in the fashion—His dress and dogs—Trap horses—Trips to Doncaster and Newmarket—The late Mr. Tattersall—Dislike to betting— His entry on the business—The yard at Tattersall’s—Mr. Tattersall’s connexion with the Prince—Difficulties with H.R.H. about a challenge—His Majesty’s care for old chums—Mr. Tattersall as a hunting man—Understanding with highwaymen—Sir Clement Dormer in difficulties—The stories of Slender Billy—RBoiling the exciseman— Billy’s warning voice, and his execution—Parson Harvey—Mr. Vernon on long preaching—Coaching, dogs, and fists—Theatre rows—The late John Warde—Mr. Tattersall’s Derby dinner—The first guests—Humours of Charles Mathews, sen.—Drawing the Derby Lottery—Frightening the Chelmsford postboy—Mr. Tattersall as a breeder of blood stock—Mr. Tattersall’s scrap-book—James Ward, R.A.—Mr. Fernely—Principal pictures—His habits—Visit to Mr. Herring at Meopham—Horse and donkey models—The Arab Imaum—Myr. Herring’s first efforts—Other subjects— Interior of his studio—Recollections of his ‘‘ Book of Beauty”— Painting Bay Middleton—Baron Petroffski—His love of sport—His racehorse breeding—Racing in Russia—Training tioubles

Contents, Vil

CHAPTER Lf, EXMOOR TO WIT.

Chapter I. Turf Worthies

‘¢Mr, Perceval and Lord Sidmouth were Premiers, and that is all that is known of them; but if they had been great racing men, there would have been hundreds of enthusiasts who would treasure up the minute descriptions in which a Turf writer would have collected all the traditionary stream of knowledge bearing on their physical and mental gifts, on their successes and failures, the way they carried their heads, and the way they turned out their feet.”

"LL ¢ell you what it 1s, my old friends,” A Word at

I said a candidate, when he had been _ Starting.

met at the station, and duly conducted to a dais at the end of his Committee Room ; “l’m not going to stand up here for a speech to-night, but [ll just come down and smoke a pipe with you.’ It was six to four on him at once, and the takers had the worst of it on the polling day. Such a homely solution of the starting difficulty might make the Jockey Club prick up its ears, and fill the author-world with the direst envy. It suits our own humour to a nicety. We want to settle down quickly into our stride, and tell from our note-book, as of yore, the post and paddock recollections of many an old English and Scottish worthy. Our appetite for moralizing is not sufficiently athletic to grapple with the morbid anatomy of The Turf, or

B to trace every dark episode in its annals. We simply feel proud, that an institution, so fraught with temptation, and exposed to the ken of so many millions of ignorant or crusty critics from within and from without, should continue to furnish us with Premiers, and to show such wonderful fibre and endurance under the chronic onslaughts of that lop-sided morality, which almost denies the existence of an honest owner, trainer, or jockey. | Horse Tra- But second-hand homilies are not in ditions. vogue, and nearly every tradition for good or evil has been already moulded into shape. We may have to take the Venerable Bede on trust, when he tells us that in 631 the “ English first began to saddle horses ;” but the same genius of stable gossip which was at hand to note for posterity how Lord Falkland’s son bartered away his father’s library for a horse and a mare, has stayed the two centuries well, A rich harvest of facts, down to I’Anson’s last Leger orders to Challoner, never to raise his hands from Caller Ou’s withers, has been gathered in by its agency, but there is still much work for the gleaner. And if our version of some events differs in a measure from that which was given of them at the time, it may be that we have traced them more thoroughly to the fountain head, when all motive on the part of the actors for gloss or concealment had long passed away. Old Sporting “’Tis seventy years ago” is a phrase Writers. of edge not to be matched now, and we may well not care to go back further.

We can still teach by the light of living memory (the only book we have cared much to consult), that great historic age of “Genius Genuine,’ the Prince Regent, and John Bull. Of thousands of good sportsmen, who rode the hill towards Black Hambleton, on the King’s Plate day, to see the judges place 16 out of 31 for posterity behind the Belvoir “Bonny Black,” or decide the delicate question between five Marys, we must fain be content with the simple record that they were born and died. No newspaper had then made sporting its specialty, and the Old Sporting Magazine only began in 1792 to “woo the votaries of Dian and the frequenters of Newmarket,” with intelligence and “ lyric compositions of the sylvan, rustic, and Anacreontic kind.” The field of Turf literature had lain comparatively fallow, and when the writers did begin to work it again, they stuck too much to one kind of cropping. They were careless of the fame of great horses, or considered them to be sufficiently provided for in the Racing Calendar, which extended its earliest favours to Jamaica as well as Great Britain ; and embalmed the Royal Rules of Cockfighting as solemnly as the pedigree of Coughing Peggy, or Skipjack from Old Mother Neesome. Men who had completed a zealous novitiate of folly or eccentricity, and risen to the dignity of a character; the careless cassock, fonder of brewing an October posset than writing a fifteen-minutes sermon, and yet ready, like his ancestors, to melt his last tankard for Church and King; and the wealthy Corinthian who had run the gauntlet of the coffeehouses before he was three-and-twenty, were the subjects they delighted to honour.

The Prince Regent was their Mzecenas, Eccentric Turf and Sir Harry Vane their Suwarrow of Characters. the turf. Lord Barrymore, who was known as “Cripplegate,” while another brother became “ Newgate,” and a third owned to a still warmer and more expressive title, was a most fruitful study with them. Inspired by the account of the countryman, who consumed a pound of salt, a cabbage, and a cabbagenet at a sitting, his lordship made a bet Lord Barrythat he would produce a man who was mores Bets. equal to eating a live cat ; and he won bya few yards at Brighton, when he challenged the Duke of York to try who could wade farthest into the sea. Well might his Boswell exclaim, on hearing of his early death,

B 2

“Could the emotions of grief restore his vital heat, my lamentations should fatigue Echo.” Earl Orford’s eccentricities, wrote another, “ are too firmly indented upon the tablet of the memory, ever to be obliterated from the diversified rays of retrospection,” and then feeling refreshed by this prelude, he proceeds, with his usual kindness to give them in detail. Major Topham earned a mention both for the drama’s and Snowball’s sake. Sir John Lade (who “stood in” with “ Leader, the great coach-builder of Liquor Pond Street,’) was a fund in himself for them, whether he was driving his phaeton and four across the ice of the Thames, or riding his mule for a thousand pound match over the Ditch In; and they loved to tell how O’Kelly would fumble among a quire of banknotes just to set the caster, when he had got every floating guinea in the bank.

O14 O. Sonneteers and satirists all laid violent hands on Old Q, who still stuck to his Picadilly bow window, his green wzs-d-vis with black horses and long tails, his Richmond beauties, his muff, and defied them. His body physician had only to look in the Morning Post occasionally to be reminded that he had strictly a life-interest in his patient, and that his prescriptions of a warm milk bath scented with almond powder, and a veal cutlet at 3 A.M, might as well have been posted at Charing Cross. Colonel Thom- Colonel Thornton’s thirst for notoriety

om was also slaked to the full. If he sat down next to Oliver Goldsmith at the Seavoir Vivre Club, or jumped a five-foot-seven gate, or ran down a hare on horseback, or coursed a bustard, or shot a dotteril, or unhooded Sans Quartier amid the elastic wold breezes round Falconer’s Hall, the feat never lacked a chronicler. His greyhound Major, his beaele Merryman, and his terrier Pitch were all accepted types of their order; and Juno, whose fame caused Lord Grantley to pay half-forfeit in a match of thoun *

Turf Worthres. 5 sands, was the queen of the twenty brace of setters and thirty-five pointers, which composed his “partridge preparations.”

Lord Orford’s kennel was worsted by ‘The Swaffham the Snowball blood over the Wharram Club. Wolds, but the plains of Swaffham had no mightier champion. It was at his bidding, that the club was limited to the number of letters in the alphabet, and each member selected a colour. If The Heath knew well the orange and black cap of the dashing matchmaker Grosvenor, the green and white stripes of Foley and Fox, and the mazarine blue of Standish, coursing men watched with equal zest in Norfolk, whether brimstone, quaker, or pompadour would be the steward’s cockade for the week.

While the turf and the leash thus held cricketing ana their alternate six months’ sway, the Archery. Marchioness of Salisbury was tasting the delights of the chase and the quiver. A golden bugle-horn was sometimes the Hatfield prize, and it sounded the veveillé for many a county muster of the Woodmen of Arden, the Bowmen of Cheviot Chase, and the Hainault Foresters in their green and buff. While the Essex archers were keeping summer trysts at Fairlop Oak, the Men of Kent knew well how to handle the willow. Earls Winchilsea, Darnley, and two more dashing spirits thought nothing of pitting county elevens against each other at Lord’s for a thousand guineas ; and in 1792, fourteen matches were played for that sum, and six for half of it. The cricketing picture of the period is strange to look upon. The players are attired in round hats, knee-breeches, and pig-tails; the umpires are all frill, and two scorers sit contentedly with slates on a form.

Goodwood subsequently achieved re- The Dawn of nown, as the spot where Lillywhite and Goedwood. James Broadbridge first took the hint for their round bowling from Lambert. In 1801 its racing was of a very lowly kind. One writer, in fact, seems to have carried away nothing more than an indefinite idea of “five or six roving tents, and plenty of ice and pickpockets.” Ascot basked earlier in the smiles of royalty ; its sports were regularly opened by beat of drum, and its cords bounded South by & O tables, some fifty strong, and North by four-in-hands. Never were the pigeons more heavily and more openly winged, and one & Oite, plaintively referring to his rich dividends of the previous year, seemed almost to consider that ina bad summer he was entitled to compensation from the Crown on its native heather, for “the poverty of one, the death of a second, and the compulsive abdication of a third.” The Driving | The new driving era was just beginning Haas to dawn in ’93, and the procession of a score of freshly-painted mail-coaches up St. James Street from the Bull-and-Mouth and The-Swan-with- Two-Necks, &c., after the birthday drawing-room, on June 4th, with their drivers and guards in new scarlets, and the horses in parti-coloured streamers, was becoming one of the most popular sights of the season. The Driving and the Whip Clubs were not then in being. The landlord of the Black Dog, at Bedfont, had no visions for himself or his successors, of eleven teams of bays at his door, with Mr. Villebois, Mr. John Warde, and Sir Thomas Mostyn on the box. The Buxton bit, and the Hawke head territ still slumbered in the brains of their inventors, and the wildest dreams of the future “ Baron Stultz,”—who gained Beau Brummell’s love by putting a 100/-note into each of his dress-coat pockets, and destroyed ’Schweizer’s and Dawson’s monopoly by the two hussar-jackets which he begged to make as a favour for “The Seventh,” in Lord Anglesey’s time,—did not as yet compass that double-breasted drab driving coat, with three tiers of pockets, and Spanish five-dollar pieces for buttons, in which Sir Godfrey Webster found no

Lurf Worthtes. 7 followers. Sir Henry Peyton had not brought four ereys, of Squire Annesley four strawberry roans with “ Harlequin” as off-leader, into fashion; and a really crack team seldom showed at Ascot, except each horse was of a different colour.

Nothing pleased “ Farmer George” so Ascot Qualifimuch as to find that there was a good “tion Tickets. entry for his four-mile Hunter Plate. His Majesty on his white horse, which did duty long before Hob was foaled, never missed the Windsor Forest Meet, on Holyrood Day (September 26th) : and until the melancholy twilight of his powers stole on, he cared quite as much to calculate how many of the horses were about to try for their ten qualification tickets, as to look at his hounds and men. Owners or grooms might ride them, but it was a size qué nox that the Royal Huntsman should see them, both at the uncarting and the take of the deer. It made no matter how forward they might be during the run, if both those cardinal rules were not complied with. If three horses succeeded in winning their tickets at the end of a severe chase, it was thought to be a good day’s work ; but in an ordinary run, very few failed, and Mr. Davis has granted one, as an especial honour, to a lad on a pony.

The early history of the Ascot of the Doncaster Moor North has been told so often, that there to wit. is no need for us to go back to the 54 5s., which was voted by its corporate body in 1681, for five years, to encourage the sport on their Town Moor. The return list began in 1728; and the meetings were held in July, and after shifting all over the summer months, they finally settled down into September, about 1750. Eight-and-twenty years after, the uncle of “ Handsome Jack St. Leger” gave his name to the race, and so the ball has been kept rolling to the present day. In 1794 the light skirmishes between the mayor and the gamblers began, but His Worship won, and like another Lord Elgin, at Pekin, burnt the E O tables in front of the Mansion House. Less martial mayors » succeeded, and in 1825 another civic sally had to be made, or the very mace and meat-jack would have been in danger. The skulking which that defeat entailed upon the E Ojites exasperated them to such an extent, that they joined forces with the thimbleriggers, and on Monday, September 14th, 1829, was fought that sixteenth “decisive battle of the world,” on Doncaster Moor, between the “ Confederates,” with legs of tables on the one side, and His Worship, with mounted constabulary, militia, yeomanry, volunteers, and a posse comitatus on the other, which eventuated in a series of exciting chases and prodigies of private valour, whose recital still furnishes many of the older inhabitants with an annually lengthening story over their wine and walnuts.

The Bibury Club was also in great force each June, with Lord Sackville, the Hon. George Germaine, Delmé Radcliffe, Ferdinando Bullock, and “ Splitpost Douglas” (an undying name conferred on him by the Prince Regent himself) at the head of its silks. It was there, too, that John Scott, when quite a little Oxford lad, had his first glimpse of Sir Tatton in the The Prince Re- Saddle. The Prince Regent seldom failed gent at Bibury. to show, and never passed the gate of Christ Church without calling upon his old tutor, Dr. . Cyril Jackson. On one occasion he presented himself in his full Club uniform of green coat, buckskins, and top-boots. The Dean was as cordial as ever, but he felt, that in those cloistered precincts, discipline must

Dr, Cyril Jack. D€ maintained even with The Heir Apsonon Bibury parent. His stately hint at parting was

and Hunting. on this wise:—“ Vow, remember I'm always glad to see you, except when yowre dressed for Bibury, and then I dowt know that Your Royal Highness exists.’ Racing was a different matter, but the Dean did not in his heart object to hunting, and rather held the belief that a few fast men were not without their use to the hard readers in a large college, by giving them something to talk about. In fact, with rare and beautiful candour, he went so far as to say to Lord Foley, at the beginning of an October term: “Well, youve come back amongst us, my lord, I suppose youve brought your red rag with you.” Hence under his dynasty, and before the Duke of Bedford’s political “crops” became legion, or the Duke of Rutland’s raven wig was voted the best scratch in New Bond Street, those who wanted a gallop with Lord Sefton could do the thing correctly, and have their pigtails powdered for the field, after morning chapel, in peace.

Dean Milner, the President of Queen’s, had also rather scandalized the Cambridge dons at this period, by the report that he had, on crossing over in the packet boat from Hull to Barton, been observed by curious eyes to make his way towards p,.n Mitner's Mendoza, and enter, with his wonted Interview with energy, into a long conversation on box- Mendoza. ing with him. However, he would brook no admonition on the point, and curtly replied to his questionists: “Ah! I knew he was at the head of his profession, and I wanted to get something out of him.” Mendoza’s conqueror, Humphreys, had (as Tom Cribb did afterwards) retired into the coal line, near the Temple, and Mendoza, after joining a party of “The Fancy” at the Lyceum, had accepted office as a sutler in the Notts Militia. The regiment was then (1798) encamped on Dorlington Heights, and “Jack Musters,” who was considered, when blue coats and leathers came in, to divide with Brummell the honour of being the best dressed man on town, was helping, as ensign, to keep the coast from Bridlington to Spurn Point.

When the Dean and the Professor held ¢.-ratton Sie their discussion, Sir Tatton Sykes was a and his Sheep young banker in Hull, and employing 1*es.

his intervals of business between the camp and his Leicesters. Seven years before, Barton Ferry had been a memorable spot to him in connexion with his first purchase of ewes. He had been smitten at twenty-one with a desire to have some pure Bakewells from the late Mr. Sanday’s flock; and after selecting half-a-score at twenty guineas apiece, he met them afterwards at Lincoln, where they arrived from Holmpierrepont by waggon, and drove them home in person, a three days’ journey, to Barton. He soon became a ram-letter, and September, 1861, was the fifty-eighth anniversary of his show; and until he was upwards of eighty, he never missed his annual June ride into the Midlands, to Burgess’s, Buckley’s, and Stone’s. This love of Leicesters has always fought hard for supremacy with thoroughbreds at Sledmere.. It peeped out in the naming of the bay colt, “ Holmpierrepont,’ on which Sim Templeman in his seven-stone days was beaten in a canter, at York, by the dam of Charles XII.; and a somewhat expensive complication arose because of it at Cat- ALittleDifficulty terick. Mr. Baker, of Elemore, in his with Mr. Baker chagrin at being defeated for a Hunter’s of Elemore. Stake, construed Sir Tatton’s: gallame wave of his whip to the ladies on the Stand, into an expression of triumph over himself, and accordingly made matters so hot for him at Mr. Robert Collings’s sheep sale, that he had to pay 156 guineas for the shearling Ajax.

His Early Days The forty miles behind his ewes from in London, Lincoln was as nothing in Sir Tatton’s eyes, as he had walked from London to Epsom and back to see Eager’s Derby in ’9g1, starting at four on that June Thursday, and landing back at Lamb’s Conduitstreet about eleven at night. Next year he rode down to see Buckle win it on John Bull, and he never went to Epsom afterwards. He had first looked on London as a Westminster boy, with his brothers

Mark and Christopher; and it was a cherished recollection with the three, that after often lingering for that purpose at their tailor’s, in Bolt Court, they once caught a glimpse of Dr. Johnson, as he handed a visitor to her carriage. In Sir Tatton’s case, a probation with Messrs. Farrar and Atkinson, the solicitors of Lincoln’s Inn Fields, followed hard upon Westminster and Brasenose. Edwin as Jemmy Jumps, Ranelagh, or the rope-dancing at Sadler's Wells, where a pint of punch, “and very good punch too,” was dispensed to every box visitor, after. the third act, might be the evening’s amusement, but the young clerk had no easy time of it by day. When he was not indirectly fostering his future Holmpierrepont tastes among the sheep-skins in the office, he was dutifully bearing the green bag after Mr. Farrar to Westminster Hall, or to consultations His Probation in at chambers, in one of which Erskine Lincoln's Inn, and the two Scotts were engaged. Holroyd was then great as a special pleader, Kenyon and Buller were on the Bench, and Thurlow’s tenure of the Great Seal was rapidly waning to its close.

Hullock and Bayley were still hard working stuffs, but Sir Tatton met them both in their ermine, when it became his turn to put four bays into the “ Chameleon carriage,” at York Assizes. That wonderful county conveyance was popularly supposed to have heard some of “The Squire’s” best hunting stories, as he conveyed his learned charges and his chaplain to and from the Castle, and to have been the scene of that inward resolve to challenge Clinker four miles over Leicestershire with Clasher, which he reduced into his own queer manuscript before he had been ten minutes in court. It is also in the recollection of some of its annual masters, how at gyumours of the the magistrates’ dinners, Baron Hullock Yorkshire invariably proved himself fonder efit: <p pele bottles than one, and quizzed “my Brother Bayley,”

whenever he lighted by mistake on his special bottle of toast-and-water; and how strict the latter was with Sir Tatton and every other High Sheriff about conducting him home to his lodgings after a late sitting, lest, as he was wont to phrase it, “there should be an assassin behind the door.”

While these stories were current of the Puisnes, Lord Thurlow earned no mean fame in the eyes of Sir Tatton and the Holderness men by his conduct in the little affair of Spaxton Vicarage. The Chancellor

A Word with had sworn up to his usual mark, when a

Lord Thurlow. young clergyman (Mr. Jaques) encountered him on the sands at Scarborough, and asked him, without the smallest introduction and with a very slight preface, for the then vacant living. “ But [wont go about my business,” rejoined the intrepid divine, “and what's more, it now becomes my duty, as a clergyman, to reprove you for swearing.’ The man of the awful eyebrows was fairly brought to his bearings, at last. “ W272 you, indeed?” he began; but “hang it, I see youre a—— good fellow—you shall have tt,” was the rest of the sentence, and the Chancellor shook hands over it and kept his word.

Sir Tatton’s But we must glance off from these

Race-riding. woolsack recollections to the saddle, and the “orange body, blue sleeves, and cap” of Sledmere, in which the then Mr. Tatton Sykes won his maiden race, on his brother’s Sir Pertinax, at Beverley. “Bob Lascelles,’ of Thirsk, was second, and Sir Henry Boynton, Mr. Burton, and “Hamlet Thompson’s” father were in the ruck. Sir Tatton had on that occasion to ride 13st., but eleven was his regular racing weight, and he scaled ten-and-a-half over Morpeth, at a pinch. No one ever loved a mount better, and he rode until he was above sixty for any one who asked him, without a thought about fatigue or distance. On one occasion, after riding 63 miles from Sledmere that morning he was second to Mr.

Turf Worthees. Ee

Lindow (half-brother to Mr. Rawlinson, the owner of Coronation), in the four-mile Macaroni Stakes, at Pontefract, slept at Doncaster that night, and was beaten in another four-mile heat race against “ Splitpost Douglas,” at Lincoln next day. Twice over he journeyed from Sledmere to Aberdeen, with his racing jacket under his waistcoat, and a clean shirt and a razor in his pocket, for the sake of a mount on the Marquis of Huntley’s Kutusoff, and Sir David Moncrieff’s Harlequin, when the Welter Stakes was the greatest race in Scotland; and without stopping to dine went back to sleep at Brechin that night, and reached Doncaster after a six days’ ride, just in time to see Blacklock beat for the St. Leger. Kutusoff, whom he thought to be decidedly the best he was ever on, did not win that bout, but the victory in “the white and black cap” of Sir David, in ’22, squared up his Scottish luck. The 360 miles were done, principally in the forenoon, on a little blood mare, and with the exception of a slight stiffness she seemed no worse.