False is the hope: no more shall Quantock's side, Or the rude broom-squire heard once more to say, Mann'd is the adventurous boat, and from the shore Till closely press'd, a rising surge betrays With skilful hand the knotted cord is thrown; Back to the land the parting carcass borne: With deafening shouts, that made the dark rocks ring, I will not particularise the riders on this notable occasion, where so many were good - it would be an invidious, and, at the same time, no easy task to do so. As I have said, the fences towards the latter part of the run were truly formidable; but what could stop such men on such a day? Mr. James, of Doniford, produced a hogshead of his fine ale, which was soon in reduced circumstances; and the little town of Watchet was alive with hospitality. Such a bustle and throng never before, I'll be free to say, was seen within it; we were a thirsty set, and you might as well have looked for a unicorn as a teetotaler. I must, before I "holloa" homewards, say one word about the fate of the gallant animal that had afforded so much sport, especially as I have taken a little liberty with it. "When he has luck, He'll bring back a buck, On his lusty shoulders home." So in this case; only six shoulders were requisite, in the place of the one pair of the song. The deer, having been for one hour and twenty minutes at sea, was like a dead thing; this, however, was owing entirely to the salt water he had swallowed, whilst he was towed towards shore. I have known one double the time out, and not much the worse for it. Taken to Watchet, he was surrounded by the people; and, amidst their hurras and twenty gallons of ale, he was proclaimed by Mr. Stowell a royal hart, and immediately conveyed to a place of security. On a cart being sent next morning, he was found quite well ; and the day after saw him restored to his native hills. Thus I have given a sketch, in a very humble way, of what we men of the West have been about; and so far so well; but we are in hopes of much better things and high patronage. The county offers what no other part of England can offer; and the Devon and Somerset stag-hunt should be ranked among the first in the land. It demands it from its antiquity and its character; and, beyond all, from its being the only existing remains of the sort of our forefathers. That it may long continue to be that of their children, is the wish of A SPORTSMAN OF THE WEST. A variety of the genus homo found on Quantock, living on whortleberries, dwarfbirch, &c. &c. Towards winter they frequent the lower grounds, and prey on game of all sorts, preferring that of their own killing. NEWMARKET HOUGHTON MEETING. BY THE EDITOR. As a novelist reserves his most striking incident for his catastrophe, and a playwright the coup de théâtre for the final scene, so the cunning of those on whom it devolved to organise the closing Olympics of the season at Newmarket was exhibited, energetically exerting itself to wind up the racing year with éclat. The success of their endeavours cannot be gainsaid. Without having recourse to comparisons, which are proverbially discourteous, the late Houghton Meeting was, at least, as brilliant as the average of similar anniversaries. "The spirit was willing;" and of a verity, "the horse-flesh was not weak." Monday ushered it in with a list of eight races, and Saturday bowed it out with a catalogue of five lots (one, indeed, a little damaged). Neither was the main incident without its episodes. While it must be allowed these might have given umbrage to the stickler for the proprieties of strict action, the majority, in the boon spirit of Voltaire's pleasant philosopher, pronounced the arrangement "all for the best." Well, then, it is to be recorded that we had a "fancy fair," and a fancy fight;" of which it remains to be said, that each was a variety, if both were not charming. Talking of philosophy, what ducks and drakes the bunglers have made of it, who, from the days of Eve (the first dabbler in loose logic), have gone on deducing consequences from false syllogisms! For instance, here is a text that passes current for a truism—"There is no accounting for taste." Your leave while we examine the pretension of this dogma. It was the tide of flood at the Newmarket Fancy Fair, and chance associated me with one on whom Nature had bestowed her rarest gifts, and the Graces delighted to nurture and embellish. He was, indeed, the ideal of a "very perfect gentle knight:" in the expression of his bright and noble countenance, high thoughts and generous sympathies might be read as in a book. I marked him closely, for none could meet such a mien and bearing without interest. I watched him well, as his glance encountered the beauty, the grace, the fascination, there arrayed to plead the cause of charity with an eloquence that had laughed to scorn the oratory of Cicero or Demosthenes. His eye now rested on the sylph-like form of the Countess of -; now flashed to the sunny smiles of the Lady radiance of the Hon. Mrs. ; or drooped before the lustrous Was not here a soul made to feel and acknowledge the sweetest amenities of life a spirit moulded for gentleness and love? Forty-eight hours before, "I met him at the Fancy Fight." Grim reader! wast ever at Hockley-in-the-Hole? didst ever hear the voice of the cubless tigress, or observe a fellowsinner under the Christian operation of being broken on the wheel? No? then, canst thou conceive neither the style, tone, nor gesture, of our cavalier, as, dancing in the ecstasy of delight, he screamed aloud, "Go it Caunt,* my god of war! (his tin was, no doubt, against Brassey.) "Cut him into collops, my boy of a million!" "Peg away at his pimple; it's as raw as a rump steak!" "Hit him a smack on the head, my tulip!-down he goes, like a shot!-it's all dickey!" "You're knocked him into the week after next!"...... The fact is, nothing is more easily accounted for than the varieties of taste. Our dispositions are mirrors to our circumstances · our tastes the offspring of our fortunes: rules, of course, subject to exceptions, but not the less rules on that account. These will be unpalatable inferences to some-they are subjects of deep consideration to all: philosophy has had many of its hypotheses worse illustrated than by the influence of circumstances upon character shewn in the hero of the Fancy Fair and the Fancy Fight. : Fine weather, and a company to correspond, were good omens for the opening day. Monday's ample list summoned us to business betimes, though the first half-dozen events were of little general interest. A lot of cheap matches between indifferent horses calls for no notice beyond that afforded by the Turf Register; we will, therefore, proceed to the lion of the meeting, the Cambridgeshire Stakes. The principal attractions of the autumn business at Newmarket in the present day are the two great handicaps, of which these stakes are one. Their intrinsic claims consist in bringing together a greater number of bad horses, ridden by bad jockeys, than any other event of the season. Here, those who look only on the surface, may find it difficult to account for such taste the solution of the mystery is simple enough. The class known as "betting men" is now in the ascendant on the turf. These persons give the tone to racing: a handicap to them is an annuity it is their interest to invest such a race with all possible éclat they halloa on— -the million follow the body politic is carried away by the "legs" politic. Let us look at the merits of the Cambridgeshire Stakes-at their claim to excite the interest that is undoubtedly attached to them. Their nominations consisted of sixty-four, of which thirteen started this baker's dozen, to say the best of it, boasting two second-rate plate-horses in the "ruck.' Of the race itself, little can be said: it was a poor affair: the favourite was beaten from the first stride; and the winner was the remotest of the outsiders. The Ruler was at the top of the betting; upon the public grounds, apparently, of having lost the Cesarewitch (for which he was first favourite), and the private claims of being dead amiss; while Roscius was at the fag-end of the list, because he was a likely looking fouryear-old, carrying 7 st. 3 lb., and having a jockey upon his back at least, there was no other obvious reason. It will be seen, that the two great handicaps of the year were won by the only two horses in each race that public opinion regarded as utterly without a chance for either: a fact which goes to prove that the weights were apportioned in gross ignorance, or that the results were accomplished by superior jockeyship. The proprietor of Roscius is the most extensive breeder On the Tuesday of this meeting, a prize-fight took place at Six-mile Bottom, between two pugilists of the names of Caunt and Brassey, in which the latter was beaten. 66 of racing stock in Ireland. I asked what their probable amount might be? of one of the followers of the stable, and his reply was, By the hole o' me coat! he's the full iv a county on 'em! The Criterion was an event of infinitely greater legitimate interest, and terminated in support of the opinion I had ventured to give of the two-year-olds which the October meetings had brought out that they were troubled with "the slows." The weight did not help the favourite, certainly; but he never shewed like one that " endeavoured to deserve success. He was beaten "like a sack," as the phrase goes; and when all was over, the discovery was made that he had been "coughing" for a week before. The defeat of Cameleon opens the Derby betting, and has already made business brisk: there can be little doubt that a large field will be in the market for it during the winter. Tuesday, after a night and morning of heavy rain, broke cheerily when the hour named in the lists arrived. The racing was confined to two events: the first, a handicap, in which a fair average field was engaged at all sorts of weights, to be sure, but so as to promise a turn to the industrious. The course, the Ditch In, is about the most severe at Newmarket, because the distance being moderate, ensures a strong pace all through; and the finish is a criterion, and no mistake. The result, which made Isaac the winner, was a performance of no ordinary character. I do not think there was another horse at Newmarket on the day that could have beaten the field at the weight. The Fiftypound Plate, for horses of all ages, last three miles of the B. C., was well filled, though not with flyers. The winner was Evelyn, a nice filly engaged in the Oaks but this achievement let out none of the secret of her pretension. She waited all through, and finished in front by some lengths, in a canter. She was claimed, it was said to go abroad, for Lord H. Seymour, and was a bargain at the price-300 guineas. Wednesday, with its novel attraction of a Fancy Fair, was quite a gala: "many and beautiful" were the gentle votaries of "melting Charity," who sought her shrine at Kingston House on that occasion. It is no part of our province to chronicle this episode in Newmarket story, albeit it would be a task of love. A glorious sight it was to look upon the fairest and the noblest of the land busied in a work of goodwill and benevolence; but then it is no novelty for record: are not such the everyday occupations of the daughters of England? The races, which were mediocre in character, though productive of some interesting running, commenced with a Ten-sovereign Sweepstakes for two and three-year-olds, won by Caution, a filly of Roger's, claimed for the £150. The next was a Match between Perseus and Nicholas, the latter receiving 5 lbs., which the fine riding of Robinson made a dead heat. Then came a Match between Remnant, backed at 6 to 4, and Menalippe, won by the latter solely through the splendid jockeyship of Chifney; of whose riding, since his return to the turf, I purpose some notice in another place. A Fifty-pound Plate, for two and three-year-olds, was won by Protection, a filly of Isaac Sadler's in the Derby and Oaks; but it was no remarkable performance, and the sport closed with a Handicap, A. F., of which, as I cannot write with patience, I say nothing, except the winner received three stones four pounds from a filly of her own year; and if that is not a case for Mr. Thomas, the Animals' Cruelty Society man, then, indeed, may we "hit them hard, for they have no friends.” Thursday brought plenty of rain and racing: lots of running of both kinds: neither much to the general taste. I pass a cheap Sweepstakes and a couple of Matches to arrive at the event of the day – -a Sweepstakes of Fifty Sovereigns each (thirteen subscribers), reduced to a Match between Thistle Whipper and Cameleon, 6 to 4 on the first. The early part of the race determined the result, as Thistle Whipper, hard held, had clearly the best of it, although his adversary kept him good company. At the fall of the hill, however, Cameleon, finding the pace too good, bodily "shut up," and was beaten to fits by a length, the consequence being his dismissal to Coventry in the Derby betting. A Subscription Handicap Plate for £50, won by Chasseur, a three-year-old, carrying 5 st. 7 lb., ended the morning's business: some of the unfortunate semi-swamped called it "a fine race." How easily some people are accommodated with a prime article! Friday was just the reverse of yesterday: the weather was fine, the attendance very good, and the racing excellent. It commenced with a Handicap, for which the worst pair made all the running, and finished first and second; while Scroggins, with 9 st. 8 lb. upon him, had about as much chance as would his namesake's ghost had it been there. For the Nursery Stakes a field of ten, of but middling pretensions, started and made a slashing race, which Simoom, at 8 st. 3 lb., won by a head; but he is not a Derby nag, in any sense of the term. The Audley End Stakes was the most interesting affair of the day, if not of the meeting. It brought out four: I-am-not-aware, Janus, Bosphorus, and Roscius; the latter giving the first 10 lb. and his year. From end to end the Irish horse had it his own way, winning by three lengths in a canter; whence it became tolerably obvious, that those who put 7 st. 3 lb. upon his back for the Cambridgeshire Stakes, as also those who laid 30 to 1 against him for the same event, were a little out in their reckonings. A few races having been made for Saturday, a small body of the industrious and zealous remained, and the heath was not wholly uninhabited. The sport was not of a character to call for observation, save in one instance; and, as I was not present, my notice must be confined to the reports which have appeared of it in the newspapers. A Match for £50, D. M., was run between Mr. Goodman's Mungo Park, and Mr. Lichtwald's Shark (no misnomer it would seem), 4 to 1 being laid upon the former. He won; but the loser, ridden by Macdonald, was pull'd double all the way," and the result excited the strongest indignation. The subject is to be brought before the Jockey Club; and, until the circumstances are all developed at that tribunal, it is better to say no more about it. Thus closed the Houghton for 1840, one of the most brilliant meetings, both in the quantity and the quality of the sport, that Newmarket has seen for many years. 66 |