of it: "It was a slow thing altogether, both as regarded the performances and the performers."

THE SECOND OCTOBER MEETING began and continued as brilliant a course as ever fell to the lot of any of its predecessors within my memory. The weather was all that can be imagined of the perfection of an English autumn, and the attendance such as became the metropolis of the English Turf. The sport will best grace its own tale, and it needs little introduction: indeed, till the hour named for the heath, little or nothing was done, save a few offers about the Cesarewitch, which engrossed the entire attention of the betting division. The Jockey Club have decided upon keeping the Russian gold altogether at Newmarket, instead of running the handicap in alternate years at Ascot. This was wisely done: the autumn meetings at the former required one or two extra sporting races, which they have obtained in the Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire stakes. Regal Ascot needed no attraction beyond that which it already possessed.

The week's business opened with a Twenty-sovereigns' Sweepstakes (handicap), in which the whole half-dozen were placed; some, indeed, very badly placed, considering there was an attempt made to bring them together. The next, a little half-hundred across the flat, was a pretty quartet, of which Janus was the leader. To this succeeded a match, in which St. Francis gave Amurath two stone and a half, and got beaten according to the Ascot running, the old one had the best of the bargain; but this Amurath, with his great slashing stride, is as honest a parcel of horseflesh as ever sniffed the breeze of the Warren Hill. A sweepstakes of five sovereigns, with "a pony" added, brought out half-a-score of the working sort; which Pickwick won, and was claimed. He is a useful nag, and very cheap at £150. The Garden Stakes Flambeau won (the second time), beating Feather, to whom he gave two stone and a half for his year. Surely the sooner Lord Lichfield gets rid of such a pensioner the better. Tuesday, after a couple of matches, and a Fifty-pound Plate (won by Mr. Greville's Myrtle at a speed that will a tale unfold yet), brought the Clearwell, with six to start for it, including Wahab-and one backed at odds! The event justified the betting, Cameleon winning with ease, and a long string of the others: so much for weight for age races in "the fall." This evening the meeting of the Club was held, to settle the important question whether the Autumn Meetings should, or should not, be reduced to two. The negative was carried by acclamation; and from the form in which the "noes shewed, it is my opinion that had the question been "Shall there be four October Meetings instead of three?" the ayes would have had it. The whip was not challenged for.

Wednesday, that dawned in London on a fog which prevented the solitary sons of the whip, who still do homage to the morning abreast of the "Cellar" and the "Elephant," from seeing the tails of their leaders, burst into light and life over the velvet-spread heaths and downs of Newmarket, in all the beauty and radiance of summer. That this was the gala of the week soon became manifest, for before breakfast-hour the town had assumed a bustle and a holyday appearance eloquent of good things for the mature day. As the list contained but two races, and an extensive sale of horses was announced to commence at noon, the running was fixed for two o'clock;

and at that hour the heath was as full of the élite of the sporting world as it has been for many years. Indeed I cannot call to mind any occasion, since the meeting in which Osbaldeston's match came off, that it was so populous or so brilliant. A little ten-sovereign sweepstakes (won by Wilderness, cleverly), preceded the great event; and no sooner was it over, than the most extensive and energetic ring of the year was formed, and men fell to wagering away as though it was the last opportunity their lives might afford. There has rarely been a handicap achieved that obtained more general favour than the Cesarewitch; and few deserved it better. As far as public performance can be a criterion (and no other should ever be regarded), a field could scarce have been brought together with greater skill or in a fairer spirit. Still, there was a point given away, as it struck me, by the backers of the light weights; and that was, the character of the course over which the race was to be run. The only opinion I ever hazarded upon the event was this rather general one to the question, "Well, who do you pick out for a winner?" (the querist, at the same time, informing me he had laid against every horse in the race except Clarion!) "I think it will be won by a race-horse with a jockey on

his back."

The start, with a field of nineteen, was accomplished at the first attempt, all going off in a cluster, save Bloomsbury, who lost a few lengths, but was well with his horses before they reached "Choke Jade." As they came through the Ditch, I-am-not-aware was making the running in front, with The Ruler, Bosphorus, Janus, Fitzroy, and The Corsair, next him; the others well up, except Mervan and Perdita, who were already out of it, the latter having led the first halfmile. I stood on the rise opposite the bushes, and as they passed me I-am-not-aware was still leading, and forcing the pace; Fitzroy, half a length behind him on the inside; Janus next; Calypso, pulling hard, third; one or two to the left of these; then Bloomsbury and Clarion, neither looking well; and behind them a scattering group, at the head of which was Isaac, and Sam Darling trying what virtue there might be in steel. Down the fall Clarion and Bloomsbury mended their places, and the favourite was beaten ;* the front rank beginning to break, and the pace and distance to tell on all. As they entered the cords, nothing remained in the race except I-am-not-aware, Bosphorus, Clarion, and Bloomsbury, running in the order in which I have put them. About a distance from home, Chifney made his final effort with the winner of the Derby, and succeeded in getting his head in front for a moment. It was but for a moment, however: the weight held him he hung to his horses-at the instant Robinson made his rush, and with one dying effort landed Clarion, a winner by a neck. It was the finest finish seen for a handicap since the electrical one for the Portland by the same extraordinary rider, and as splendid an exhibition of jockeyship between the two great rivals as Newmarket has seen for years. I cannot dismiss my notice of this race without alluding to the pace for the first mile and a half. It was said to have been run at score: I am persuaded of the contrary. There was, I

For the odds, I refer the reader to the account of the meeting in the Turf Register.

believe, a rather severe burst to the Ditch, but from that point to the bushes the speed was not true. Isaac, to whom distance makes no difference, was with his horses till they were set a-going in earnest, and then he at once fell astern: till they reached the rise of the bushes, the lot was too compact—though it was a handicap-for the distance, had any thing like severe play been made from the start. A more beautiful race, in every meaning of the phrase, cannot be conceived as the compact body of horses, with their party-coloured riders, swept across the Flat, gleaming in the sunlight, it appeared like the flying ray of some colossal prism.

The spirit that distinguished the anniversary of the Cesarewitch had lost little of its sparkle on Thursday. The heath was well attended, and the weather lovely. As the field won, the settling for the previous day had been upon velvet; the amateurs being the chief losers. The sport opened with a Hundred-pound Plate (handicap), for which nine went A. F. In my usual survey before the start, at the saddling stables, I made it my business especially to observe Calypso. A finer frame never had life in shape of a racer: speed and power were her sole characteristics; but her condition was wretched. Her coat looked as if she had just been brought up after a winter's run: to the eyes she was dead amiss for all purposes of the course. Very different, however, was the result, as evinced in her performance: it was all Lye could do, every yard they went, to prevent the running over her horses her rate and style of disposing of the field were things not seen every day. If her Doncaster form resembled that in which she went at Newmarket, her place for the Leger is one of those subtleties to which my discernment does not extend. The dead heat between Amurath and Perseus, of which I have before spoken (the gamest struggle that ever was seen on the part of Amurath, who was beaten the first half mile); and a Fifty-pound Plate, won after a fine race by Marialva, a slapping mare, beating a field of seven by a head, closed the day's business.

Friday's list exhibited three matches of no interest beyond the results which are given in the Turf Register, and the Prendergast, an affair of some concern; though the field was short, two of the élite of the young ones were engaged. The pace at which these stakes were run has been generally pronounced excellent: my opinion is the reverse. The running was certainly made by Wahab at his best; but the speed was not of that character. As the race may be considered to have been a match between him and Cameleon (Mobarek and Col. White's wretched brute Lampos being out of it before half the distance was done), it may be enough to say that the winner of the Clearwell waited till close on the post, where he came away and finished in front by a length it was a poor affair. Thus terminated a brilliant week:-a triumphant reply to the question mooted during its progress—an answer "that all who run may read,”—the glory of Newmarket shall not pass away !

TATTERSALL'S LIST.

BETTING'S FOR OCTOBER.

THE Two-years old Stakes and Great Handicaps at Newmarket, all of which have now been decided, occupied the principal share of business here during the past month. The subjoined quotations shew that the field for the Derby was a limited one; but they must not be taken as any indication of its probable strength during the winter. The result of the Criterion Stakes in the Houghton meeting will, no question, have the effect of giving considerable spirit to the betting, which looked seedy enough at the close of the second October. Indeed, the running of the past season holds out powerful motives to the industry of the bookmakers. The worst favourites won both the great handicaps!· who would not back the field after such warnings as those? The following were the prices at Tattersall's: the country business was of too desultory a character for recapitulation here, with the exception of the latest odds laid at Newmarket, which are given below::

The following was the betting at Newmarket on Wednesday night, the 28th ult.

PORTRAITS OF LAUNCELOT AND MAROON, FIRST AND SECOND FOR THE DONCASTER st. leger, 1840.

"Shall it be we, then?"- Story of the Organist und Bellows-blower.

In accordance with our practice of giving portraits of the winners of the Derby, Oaks, and St. Leger, it became our duty to offer a presentment of the victor in the latter great race in the present Number of THE SPORTING REVIEW. The object of those portraits is to hand down to posterity a pictorial history of the most celebrated and the best horses of their day. We felt that, had we confined our record in the present instance to the winner of the Doncaster St. Leger in the year 1840, we should not have borne witness of that event in a fair spirit. There can be no doubt that, on the day, Maroon was the best horse in the race. With this conviction we have held it but justice that he "share posterity" with his contemporary Launcelot.