maggots in the sun-" of that class of speculation which bears reference to betting on horse races"-sic in prospectu-" and the proportionate addition to the number of betting lists in various parts of the metropolis, many of which are exhibited in places of a most ephemeral appearance, have induced a party of gentlemen of character and stability to form among themselves an institution, the objects of which are as follows...... First, For the purpose of guarding the public against being allured by extravagant promises of gain set forth by individuals without capital"—that's good sound vocabulary-" gentlemen of stability"-" individuals without capital" redolent of the philosophy of the showman of Charles Mathews' père" Stand back there, you ill-looking young blackguard with the stern out of your trousers: walk up! walk up! my pretty little darling-you with a sixpence in your hand "-" individuals without capital or means to fall back upon in the event of loss; and whose only motives are to aggrandize themselves at the expense of others." The rascals! it's the gentlemen of the Celestial—that is, the Imperial—who will show you how to behave yourselves. The prospectus then goes on to show, or rather to say, that the institution from which it issues has no such selfish views, and that "the public may depend upon receiving their winnings without any fear of defalcation on the day of payment." This, however, as they say in the newspaper paragraphs, wants confirmation. The promoters admit, while they lament, that betting has an immoral tendency; and they propose, in this dilemma, to place such pursuits upon the footing of as sure and honourable a security as is anyhow possible to be arrived at.' What more can they do? They help us to a grievous view of human nature in the year of the Great Exhibition. It has been urged that such establishments have an immoral tendency, and the more safe they are, serve only the more to foster the spirit of speculation and excitement so fatally alluring in schemes of hazard and chance; but it is, however, useless to combat the fact, that this spirit does exist, is annually on the increase, and will continue so long as any field is open for its exercise. The Legislature has attempted much to repress the exhibition of betting lists at houses of public entertainment; but, instead of this course obtaining the moral tendency of its wishes, it has, it is feared, had the exactly opposite effect." Verily, verily, this is a generation of vipers. I write it with shame and sorrow-and so we'll skip the rest. A word, and I have done, as ladies say at the commencement of the fourth sheet of a letter. The Imperial ukase is thus wound up 66 "CASHIER: Joseph Haystack, Esq." (it may be Haycock, or indeed anything else, for here my friend's hieroglyphics assumed the appearance of having been traced with his shaving brush). "BANKERS: The London and Westminster Bank, St. James's Square." "Don't you keep a banker somewhere in those parts? If you happen to take an interest in his welfare, just suggest to him to swap his walking stick for a lightning conductor, or some of these fine days he may get singed. And yet, despite all this, there is omen of a good time coming. This instant year of grace is to give us political reform; and why not a social movement in the same direction? We must have no disunion among the friends of the turf. Such sore feeling as the past season gave rise to, will, in the coming re-union, be atoned for and forgotten. The great moral compact of 1851 is destined, at no distant day, to fulfil its mission. . • Non! le temps n'est pas loin où sur chaque hémisphere, De par l'humanité l'homme sera le frère De tous les hommes-malgré ça !" The racing campaign of last year commenced with a mighty material; and, but that the day has gone by for being surprised at anything, one would wonder where consumption is found for the enormous supply of our thorough-bred stock. Whether this glut was a cause or a consequence, the spring meetings began at Candlemas, when, hard by the castled towns of Warwick, the genii of the ring-is the phrase of Froissart--" took their pleasure sadly after their fashion." This they continued to do steadfastly until-" longo post tempore "--the swallow saluted them on the hills of Surrey. The Spring Races at Epsom constitute a class meeting, at which the chief event is the Great Metropolitan Stakes. This is, in fact, a handicap on the licensed victuallers' foundation; they furnish the funds for the bonus, whereby it moves and has its being. It is no more "Metropolitan" than Change Alley is the City of London. The spring racing at Newmarket was a low average, -I lament to say in an extended application of the adjective. Wednesday, in the Craven, was distinguished by the three-year-old debût of the winner of the Derby. "You're nothing unless you are critical," so to save forfeit in nonentity I proceed to say, that the day being one of the first vernal occasions of which I had the fortune to partake, I was strolling towards the saddling stables when Teddington passed me, cantering after little Midas for the 200 Sovereign Sweepstakes: Ditch Mile. To call it a race would be to state that which is not fact. Teddington carried 8st. 12lbs., and 8 to 1 on him. The pony, Midas, 9st. 2lbs. It is odd that the winner did not gain favour for his Epsom engagement by this achievement. Was Sir Joseph Hawley's greatest victory actually a turn of luck? The Two Thousand Guineas race was, no doubt, influenced by the weather in which it was run. It struck me that all the lot-I think, without any exception-were too "big." Mountain Deer was fat, to the eye. The want of condition in the Two Thousand-if such there really existed-was made ample amends for by the field-or, at least, by a portion of it-in the One Thousand. Aphrodite and Iris were exquisite models of the natural and artificial characteristics of the English racer. I take leave to refer to my views of these two accountable events, given in the May number of this work. After stating that Hernandez won the Two Thousand "cleverly by a length," I theorized thus: "I don't think the field will furnish the winner of the Derby. The distance run was one mile and one yard, and the time given in the newspaper returns was one minute and fifty-two seconds." My notice of the One Thousand Guineas having reported Aphrodite the winner by a couple of lengths, goes on to say-" If she don't astonish the natives at Epsom, it's a pity." These predictions were fulfilled, both in the letter and the spirit. Chester Races constitute probably the greatest provincial money fair on the face of the earth at these presents. You could have backed anything in the Cup for California, and found thousands to lay you the odds, at its latest anniversary. "Every railway in the kingdom, direct or collateral, pours its freight in the direction of that locality where the Chester Cup-in which every one, in these days, has an interest—is to be brought to an issue." Thus writes a sound authority on the subject. There is a little old woman in a very white cap, who lives in a little old house as bright as a new pin on the Walls, not far from the Eastgate. She makes, and I believe has been making during the whole of the present century, the most miraculous mutton-pies in the world. I never lunch, except at Chester upon these paradisiacal patties, and then my only regret is that one can't lunch six times a day. On the day succeeding that of the Cup I had duly returned to my muttons, a little after noon. Good morrow, old lady," said I. "What's the news? Drove a roaring trade yesterday, I'll be bound? Ate you out of house and home, eh?" 66 No, sir," she replied. "not exactly; but it was a mercy they did na'. They thronged round t' place, tearing like crannibals. If I had na' lock'd t' door and shut t' shutters I should na' have been standing here now to tell the tale." As usual, the pot for the cup boiled over. The winner gave the course about the best animal of her year, and certainly not the least remarkable; of which anon. However, there is one golden excuse for the excesses of the Roodec-its representatives gave sixteen hundred pounds towards the sports. The York Spring Meeting rose like a giant refreshed, after I don't know how many years of fallow. It was put on the scene with such materials as had never graced the annals of the turf. Never before had there been a match between two horses, each having previously won both Derby and St. Leger. It would be a discourtesy to the reader to record the issue, but as an opinion is not in the same category, perhaps I may be permitted to observe that it seemed to me a race thrown away. Looking at the state of the ground, and that of Voltigeur on the day, coupled with the respective ages of the antagonists, the young one certainly ought not to have forced the pace to the uttermost of his capacity, which he did. The policy would have been, to have waited with him, and so to have made the distance shorter, as regarded the race de facto. As it was, the very best the Flying Dutchman could do was to get first past the post. The style in which, on the subsequent day, Nancy disposed of Voltigeur for the York and Ainsty Hunt Cup, prepared me for her performances later in the season. Bath, as a residence for “a certain time of life,' may challenge comparison with any city or town in the kingdom; and the Pulteney is a capital caravansera. But it is a long pull to the summit of Lansdowne, and so we'll make the best of our way into Surrey. Epsom races have passed their grand climacteric ; licensed victuallers being the landlords of sporting houses, are scarce qualified to become fitting successors of the patrons they have lost: I refrain-I trust in a spirit that will be rightly interpreted-from more direct mention of those patrons, now no more. It is wholly owing to extrinsic circumstances that Epsom has become a point of sporting attraction, commanding great popular favour. The course is a bad one, almost for races of every length; and the avenues of approach to it are worse than any that I am acquainted with. Still the Derby and Oaks are grand galas, that stand not on the order of their coming or going. But Epsom is flying at higher game than holiday patronage. It is aspiring to a Newmarket character, haud tali auxilio to attain it. Its autumn meeting in 1851 was a comment not to be neglected on the policy the directory is pursuing. The two fashionable stakes above named-part and parcel of the London season-failed, even in the year of the Great Exhibition, in their ultra eclât. A mighty mob, indeed, affected the Derby, but the quality was a low average, compared with bygone years. The race was literally no more than a canter over for the winner; while the public, even at the uttermost moment, would not invest sixpence upon him. That Teddington did not take his party-neither their circle-at unawares was pretty conclusively shown, as they backed him for a mint of money. What was he tried with? and when and where? It was a passage of very fine play-and it came off" the end crowns all.” Now and then there is a slip between the cup and the lip, as in Cotherstone's memorable case. The cards for the Oaks were held by the same hand; but the policy with which they were played was more obscure. The finesse with Aphrodite did not secure the game-at least, so it was said. Iris was certainly the finest-looking filly of the lot, and, next to the winner, most took my fancy in the Thousand Guinea race. Why Breba was "booked" to be a flyer, is of course known to those that entered her. She is what is called “a mean looking mare," and when brought to the hammer at Tattersall's exhibited very few of the conventional characteristics of 6 to 4 for the Oaks. The Royal Meeting had its ups and downs. Among the latter was this same Breba's capsize for the Queen's Vase. The chiefest elevation was that for which the winner of the New Stakes was destined. This promising animal ran with 6 to 5 on him, in a field of a dozen, and with a little tickling contrived to win. He was then-that is to say consequent upon them-sold for a horseload of money; called "Hobbie Noble," and made a pot for the Derby at your service. The New Stakes were run for on the great day, the anniversary of the Cup, on this occasion full of bitterness-both Cup and company. There never was such rain seen-not even, I believe in my conscience, at a Chiswick Flower Show. Thus bad begins, and worse remains behind. For the Emperor's Piece of Plate-a right imperial trophy, worth £500 sterling, to say nothing of the glory-four went, as "scratch" a team to look at as you might expect to meet on Moulsey Hurst, or in leather plating generally. Now it came to pass that one of those exemplary men who make a practice of frequenting race courses with lobster-sallads and edibles, asked me to lunch with him at the conclusion of this issue, indicating the geographical position of his "trap" at the same time. As we "pecked," I heard a cockney contralto repeat the following words :"I think I should like to dip my beak into a tumbler of iced champagne." And looking up discovered that they proceeded from a-a lady in a Brougham and a Bloomer-hard by. Beside her sate a youth, with minute moustaches, beneath which he was inserting what appeared to be the fragment of a Strasburg biscuit. "Now then, Chaules," said the-the lady-" how about them gloves? What's won the what-d'ye-call it-the Hemprors something?" "Oh! aye, yes, to be sure," replied the friend, "the winner? It's Greenwich, or Woolwich, or Blackwall, or that sort of thing. I'm not certain it is'nt Gravesend.". The number of races appointed for July almost equalled the days of the month. For this reason we take an abrupt leave of June, and can but devote a passing word to its successor. The leviathan meetings were those at Liverpool and Goodwood: the time has come when even Newmarket July must class among the second-rates! At Aintree there was a bumper, but some of its accustomed flavour was missed. Here the Mountain Deer once more broke the word of promise to the hope : he was easily disposed of for the St. Leger by Ariosto. Surely some eminent mistake must have anticipated this conclusion. The Cup was, both in fact and fancy, an Olympic myth. Russborough, at £2,000 currency, is nowhere; Windischgratz a miserable third. The month closed with the noble Sussex tryst in Goodwood Park. Recent rumours -let us hope they are no more-have invested this meeting with even greater interest than had previously attached to it. On its latest anniversary, brilliant as the sport was in some instances, in others matter of regret abounded. The part played by Cariboo in the stakes and cup was the subject of very strong animadversion. While betting continues upon the bad principle by which it is at present governed, it is out of reason to expect that its course should run smooth. Cariboo was "scratched" for the stakes-as, I suppose, his backers were also. Then came the Cup, and its antecedents. On the first day an objection urged against Nancy's qualification to start for the Cup, on the grounds that she was the property of "notorious defaulters," was overruled by the stewards, who decided that she was entitled to run. This she did, Thereupon, to the surprise of those who were qualified to form an opinion upon the question, the owner of the second horse in the race called upon the stewards to have her mouth examined. This was done by Mr. Field, the oracle of equestrian physique, who pronounced, "I am of opinion that the said mare is three years old.” Under all the circumstances, Mr. Martinson may think himself fortunate he was not called upon to show that there was nothing done in the "bishoping" line, before Mr. Field was introduced to Nancy's mouth. As to calling on the stewards of races to investigate such a subtlety as the fee-simple of a horse, you must first invest them with the powers and privileges bestowed by special act of Parliament upon the St. Alban's Bribery Commission, and then extend them a thousandfold. The title-deeds of a filly!-an oblong strip of paper, with a five-shilling stamp on one end of it, that two pair of hands could pass, "backwards and forwards," sixty times in a minute. The gentlemen were heavy losers here. Haply the logician may thence deduce that it was only a restitution of their Epsom receipts: an impotent conclusion...... and won. "A 'book' presents two perils for your choosing: If I might suggest a seasonable present from a "governor" to a son with a taste for Tattersall's, it would be a ring, with the posy-" Don't you wish you may get it?"...... At York August races Nancy cantered away with the Ebor Handicap and the Great Yorkshire Stakes; and Newminster was beaten to fits for the Ebor St. Leger, by the Calculator!...... In September there were about twice as many race meetings as in the preceding month. At one of the first of these took place a contretemps, which was disposed of in a wa that admits of being interpreted |