requisition. The odds still kept at seventeen to one against my gallant steed Marmion; while Paul Clifford, an infinitely slower animal, was backed freely at seven and eight to one. This was a riddle I could not

at first solve, until the trainer told me, in a reply to my asking him who he thought would win, that it was quite impossible to say with gentleman jocks;" that "they were generally speaking such a very bad lot, all legs and arms, flying about like a Semaphore telegraph;" that "they went often much faster themselves than their horses," and that "with tumbling off or pumping their horses out in half the distance, it was quite a lottery. Moonraker ought to win; but Sir Harry knows no more about race-riding than my old woman does and as for your lordship, we aint seen many foreign gentlemen distinguish themselves much upon the race course or across the country." Flattering, thought I; while the trainer continued-"Young Lord Alfred, on Paul Clifford, won't be far behind; he is an undeniable good one for a gentleman; good judge of pace, and never gets flurried. And Lord George on Polker, as they call the grey mare, will take a deal to beat him; he goes as straight as an arrow, and the heavy ground's in his favour: he gets a matter of two or three stone from some of you." This statement was not very encouraging, still it did not unnerve me in the slightest degree, and having risen at daylight to take a gallop, just to get my hand and seat in, and having partaken of a slight breakfast, I found myself at eleven o'clock decked out in an orange-coloured jacket, booted and spurred, at the starting-post. We had all previously been weighed; and when I saw the concourse of people assembled, I began to think that steeple-chase riding was a rather more nervous affair than I had anticipated. We were now all drawn up in a line, and the articles read to us; the principal one of which was, that we were to keep within the two posts, and that upon no account were we to have a gate opened or a fence broke down for us, save and except such as might be smashed by some of those in the race. We were then led back some forty yards behind the starting post, and having previously decided our respective places by lot, the word was given to turn, and walking back to the starter, the word "off" was given, and away we all went, railway pace, across the first field, at the end of which, between the two posts, was as stiff a post and rail, with a ditch from it, as ever I wish to encounter. But our steeds were fresh, and we were all not a little inspired by the presence of the ladies from the park, who had placed themselves near this awful ox-rail; so screwing up our courage," as my Lady Macbeth says, "to the sticking place," we put "lots of powder" in, and took it without a mistake. We now all began to settle down to our work, and Polka, with her light weight, shot a-head, followed by Nell Gwynne, Paul Clifford, Coeur de Lion, and last, not least in my own estimation, the gallant Marmion; the rest of the horses waited patiently upon us. At the fourth fence the undaunted Richard came down, floored his rider, and the lion-hearted animal was put hors de combat. We now approached the artificial brook, a regular yawner; and here again were a party assembled to see whether we took to the water kindly. Polka took it like a deer, followed by Paul Clifford; Marmion third, and an outsider, Bacchus, fourth. Indeed my orders at starting were to wait upon Paul Clifford until the last field, and then try my speed with him. Polka it was imagined would dance herself out with the severe play her rider had determined to make.

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I

But to resume. All got well over the brook except Monkey, one of the horses not mentioned in the betting, who on landing missed his footing, and gave his rider a pretty fair specimen of the cold water cure. own my courage began to ooze out a little when I first saw the brook, and had it not been for the undaunted pluck of my steed I should inevitably have got a good ducking. There is a story told of Mat Milton, he of the mews, not muse, that when selling a hunter to a Leicestershire sportsman, he, after extolling his merits, said, "But, sir, he has one fault." "A fault?" responded the purchaser. "Yes, sir; if he does see water he will have it, there's no stopping him, be the brook ever so wide; he'll take no denial." Now whether Marmion was a descendant of this wonderful horse I know not, but certainly no sooner did he see the brook than he went at it with such downright earnestness that, resigning myself to my fate, I let him have his own way, and, greatly to my surprise and delight, found myself safely landed on terra firma. We kept our respective places for the next two fields, when symptoms of distress began to be felt by King Charles's beauty Nell, Faulconbridge, Moonraker, and the others, of whom may have been said in the betting

out.

"O no, we never mention them,"

Sangaree, Azalia, Abelard, and Brilliant. The race now was between Polka, Paul Clifford, Bacchus, and Marmion; the former leading at a terrible pace. There were now only two fences to be jumped before the last flight of hurdles in the winning field. At the first of these fences Polka's lungs seemed to be a little disordered by the killing pace; and although she got over it, she floundered upon landing; the gallant young jockey gave her a pull, and tried to recover her wind. Paul Clifford now tried to take her place, but "bellows to mend" was also his cry. I now made all the running I could, and was closely pressed by the Bacchanalian monarch; we took the second fence together, Polka, slightly recovered, following a few yards behind us, with Paul Clifford still going. We approached the hurdles, and whether I or my steed was flurried I know not, but he rushed through them, getting entangled in the broken bars and some furze that was placed round them; this gave Bacchus and Polka a chance, for Paul Clifford was quite pumped These two now set to work in earnest, and the outsider being the freshest of the two, finally won a fine race by a neck; Polka second, and Marmion third. The fun, however, was not over; for a desperate struggle took place between the last flight, no one liking to pay the additional penalty attached to the last horse. Cœur de Lion, Monkey, and Faulconbridge were neck and neck at the last fence before the hurdles; they cleared it together; Monkey made for the gap that I had made, and was first in the winning field. The two other riders went gallantly at the hurdles ; "knee to knee" they landed at the same moment, and, setting to work in real Newmarket fashion, ran a dead heat for last; thus dividing equally the penalty, and mutually sharing the disgrace. The result of this steeple-chase amazed me not a little, for the still small voice of conscience told me that had I or my horse not blundered at the hurdles, the prize must have been mine; and I could hardly, in honesty, attribute that untoward event to my gallant steed-the fact is, for a moment I lost my head and my race. I was, however, delighted that the youngster had run second, as he pocketed

My

the twenty-eight guineas. As a matter of course, no other conversation took place the rest of that day, or during the evening, except as to the merits of the race; and I could plainly see that the general opinion was in favour of Marmion had he been properly piloted. No sooner had the ladies left the room after dinner than the whole race was run over again. This led to an animated discussion, which ended in a sweepstakes of twenty sovereigns each, same course and weights, between Bacchus, Marmion, and Polka; the only variation being, that the crack rider of Paul Clifford upon the first occasion, was upon the present one to take my place: the other jockeys as before. Some spirited betting then took place, for there was a diversity of opinion as to the winner. Some imagined that the rider of Bacchus did not possess the finest nerves in the world, and that he had, in the early part of the race, followed some of the tail through broken gates and fences, and that when it came to a race with three he might be found wanting. Lord Alfred, who was to ride Marmion, was an excellent workman; while his brother George was fancied by many-the continuance of rain, with the heaviness of the country, being all in favour of the light weight. After a good deal of talking, Marmion was backed as the first, Polka the second, and the late winner the third favourite. amour propre would not permit me to lay out my money upon the gentleman jockey who had unhorsed me, so I took the odds to a poney on Polka, most anxious not only for the sake of lucre, but for the young Nimrod, that he should prove successful. The race was to come off in a week, and, as the wet weather continued, Polka was now first favourite. The eventful day arrived, and, as the sun shone out beautifully, we were not surprised at seeing an immense concourse of people flocking through the park at an early hour towards the course. The fences had all been made up, the gates and hurdles repaired, and the brook was somewhat swelled out by the late rains. The young jockey now appeared, mounted on his famous mare, and there was a feeling and conviction, as well as a wish, fere libentur homines id quod volunt credent, that "the boy in yellow would win the day." Others were very sweet upon Marmion, as Lord Alfred cantered him before a line of carriages drawn up at the starting post. Bacchus had fewer friends than his former triumph ought to have entitled him to; with a first-rate man upon him, he would have been first in the odds."Don't take too much out of your mare at first, my lord," said the trainer to young Lord George, as he walked by the side of him; "the country is very heavy, you must make steady running to the brook, nurse the mare over the two next fields, and then get home as quick as you can without flurrying her or yourself." The horses were now drawn up in their places, the word "off" given, and away went Polka, leading at a smartish pace, Marmion waiting upon her at the distance of about two horses' lengths, and the "rosy monarch of the vine" acting as a sort of squire or follower to the "lord of Fontenaye.' It was evident, from the line young Lord George took, that he had not allowed the grass to grow under his feet (as the saying is) since the last steeple-chase, for morning, noon, and afternoon had he walked over the course, selecting the lightest ground; this, then, accounted for his steed not sinking fetlock high as the others, who were not up to this " artful dodge," now found their nags doing. They approach the brook, and the respective jockeys collecting their horses' strength, take it gallantly ;

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Polka still leading, the others lying well behind. And now the youthful sportsman remembers his instructions, of getting home as quick as he can, and away he flies, a second Mazeppa, "upon the pinions of the wind." For a few fields his competitors keep still well in the race; when within half a mile from home it was quite clear that Bacchus's chance was up, he had fully proved the truth of the Leicestershire saying, "it's the pace that kills:" still he kept on, upon the chance of any accident happening to the leading horses. They now near the last fence, and Marmion, "wet with sweat and mire," takes it, but not without a fall; Polka is some twenty yards a-head. The hurdles alone are to be got over, and the mare flies them like a deer: shouts re-echo through the park as the young Lord George passes the winning post. But where is the flower of English land? Of him we might say, in the words of "Unnurtured Blount,' good night to Marmion;" for so dead beat was he at the last fence, that he floundered at it, fell, and was some minutes before he could recover sufficient strength even to make a walk of it. This, I am illnatured enough to admit, delighted me; for it clearly proved that accidents will occur, not only, as the proverb says, "in the best regulated families," but also to first as well as to second-rate gentlemen-jockeys. In the latter I class myself; I lost the first race by one fatal error towards the end; and Lord Alfred, who was No. 1, letter A, in the pigskin, lost the second by taking too much out of his horse at starting, thereby bringing him to a stand-still before he reached home. We were all delighted with Polka's success, and the steadiness and judgment displayed by her jockey in nursing her sufficiently to keep up her pace throughout the race. I must here put on my seven-league boots, and step from my winter country life to the Goodwood Races of the following summer; and suffice it to say, that my anticipations of Goodwood were more than realized, for there I found the élite of horses, the élite of company, and the élite of all race courses in England, both as to beauty of scenery and the excellence of the turf. There was everything that could be wished for; a superabundance of sport for the sportsman; and a galaxy of beauty that no other country could produce. The arrangements, too, were of the first order; there were no unnecessary delays; and at the moment fixed for the weighing and starting, woe to the trainer or jockey who was late-a heavy fine, or, worse than that, the certainty of not being waited for, attended the offender. There was something too about the noble owner's manner that delighted me he was gracious and affable to all; from the prince of the blood to the most humble labourer the Duke of Richmond had a kind word for each. Το say that his Grace is popular in his own county is to say little; he is respected and adored by every friend to the soil, and it was highly gratifying to hear his praises echoed forth whenever I went in the county of Sussex. One tribute, though couched in simple language, and emanating from a tiller of the land, made a lasting impression upon me. Upon mentioning the name of the Duke, the peasant said, "He's a brave man; a good, generous, and liberal landlord. He fought and bled for his country when others of his class were eating the bread of idleness; and now he clings to the soil, from which he derives his wealth, like a limpet to the rock, and is as kind-hearted to the ploughboy as he is to his richest tenant." This sentiment, which, although varied in letter, is kept up in spirit throughout the county, has entitled the duke

to the name of the "farmer's friend ;" and never was an appellation more truly deserved. I must now return to the races, which certainly were conducted in the most admirable manner. The sport was first-rate, and could not be surpassed; while, at the same time, the races were finished each day at a reasonable hour. Both the trainers and professional and amateur jockeys were kept strictly to time, and in default of which a five pound fine was exacted. Without entering into detail of the races themselves, I will merely give an abstract of the number and value of the prizes contended for :

In the above are included forfeits, walks over, and the winners' stakes, but not dead heats, or more than one heat for the plates; amounting, in addition, to seven races. Open house is kept at Goodwood during the races, and there are few of the ancestral homes of England where unostentatious hospitality is more carried on than at the above mansion. The noble and distinguished hostess is endowed with that natural graceful manner which wins the hearts of all, and, added to her extreme beauty, renders her an object of universal admiration, The Duke, too, is the very essence of affability, and has a peculiar charm of interesting his hearers by discoursing to them upon subjects nearest their hearts; thus, whether the question of racing, hunting, shooting, farming, politics, corn-laws, poor-rates, military affairs are agitated, his Grace (to use a sporting phrase) is sure to be there, or thereabouts. During this gay week covers are daily laid for sixty in the ball-room, and the manner in which the feasts are conducted reminds one of the Philoxenia of former days, with the additional refinement of those we live in. The sideboard is worthy of Haddon Hall in the olden time; the noble haunches of venison, the splendid pastries, the Southdown mutton, would gladden the heart of every gourmnet from Apicius down to the late Dr. Kitchener; while to those who like the "foreign aid of ornament," his Grace's culinary artist furnishes plats worthy a Beauvillier, Ude, or Francatelli. The temporary banquet room is a noble apartment, ninety feet in length and thirty in width; the walls are covered with white silk edged with gold, and have a very chaste appearance. The marble pieces came from the palace of the modern Sardanapalus, George IV.; and, if they could speak, what tales would they tell us of the royal orgies kept up at Carlton House, when the prince-" the prince of princes at the time"-fully deserved the eulogium of Wraxall-"Convivial as well as social in his temper, destitute of all reserve, and affable even to familiarity in his reception of every person who had the honour to approach him!" But return we to the banquet. The plate is gorgeous; in the centre may be seen a superb candelabra, presented by the farmers of Sussex to the present Duke. By its side is a vase, formed of the gold snuff boxes which were given to his late noble father during his lord lieutenantcy of Ireland, from the corporations of the following towns:-Bandon Bridge, Cork, Clonmel, Dundalk, Dublin, Kilkenny, Limerick, Londonderry, Youghal, Waterford, and the Goldsmiths'