Brough ..... ........... 2 & 3 | South Lancashire .... 9 & 10 | Newcastle, NorthumberWinmarleigh ............ 7 Lytham .... ....... 15 land, and Union Club.. 26 Biggar Club .......... 8 Otterburn .......... 15 & 16 Broughton Open., 28, 29, & 30 Rokeby 9 . 22 High Leven and Scorton not fixed, THE RACING SEASON OF 1850.. BY CRAVEN. Cæteraque ingenio, non subeunda meo. We have just concluded a year without parallel in the annals of the turf-the term "geason" has gone out of date, for we now have racing from January to December. We are told by a French philosopher " Le monde est plein des fous, Et qui ne veut les voir, Et aussi sans miroir." A sweeping axiom, it is true, and moreover not particularly gracious; but one nevertheless which at these presents, it can scarce be gainsaid, applies at least to "the racing world.” From the very decided measures which had within the last few years been adopted for the suppression of “play,” not only in this country, but, with a few discreditablo exceptions, on the continent also, gambling, as a profession, upon a scale of any pretension, was confined to a confederation known in sporting parlance as the “ Ring.” The members of this association are called “legs”—whether from any propensity for the property peculiar to those limbs, or merely as a mauvaise plaisanterie, the reader will decide according to the data with which experience may have supplied him. They had indeed long been parcel of the machinery of the course-tolerated by all, countenanced by most of its aristocratic supporters. In mien, manners, and morals, infinitely below the average of the swell mob, you find “ that sublime of rascals," your “leg,”—at Newmarket, at Epsom, at Ascot, at Goodwood, at Doncaster-on terms the literal of free and easy with the nobles of the land; and, as one who gapes upon “a reel within a bottle,” “You wonder how the devil he got there !" He had no money to lose, no character to jeopardy-save one, whereof the loss would be a profit ; and not only was this the case, but it was a fact as well known as the existence of the sun in the firmament. Racing men were not at fault as to the cause of his appearance among them, or as to its consequence. He came to put money in his purse ; probably to do so honestly if he could, but certainly to accumulate. They knew that the era of miracles was gone by, and that no amount of human impudence could carry one of woman born annually to every point of this island, and fare him sumptuously at the most expensive places on the most expensive occasions, lacking the needful. They paid for the luxury of the ring—there is no accounting for taste-well, they could afford it. Such an effect comes within the imaginable limits of man's weakness......it was reserved for the middle of the nineteenth century to see it burst those bounds. Some three years ago there broke out simultaneously in every nook and corner of this kingdom a passion for what was jocosely called “speculating" in the odds, which threw into utter insignificance all the bubbles that the breath of mortal fatuity ever blew into popular favour. Persons of credit were at the head of the South Sea scheme, and half the peerage appeared upon the committees of railway announcements, but “ Sweeps" and “Betting Lists" made no pretension to such adventitious aids. Any rogue who was so minded stuck up, in the window of any Tom-and-Jerry shop whose locality suited him, a label stating that he laid the highest odds in the market on any race about to come off. He also duly advertized his intentions in the newspapers, columns of which were occupied with similar notices—just as the railway lines used to figure in supplements and double supplements of the daily and weekly journals. If he won, so much the better ; if he lost he "closed," and moved into another neighbourhood. Thereupon another rogue " opened” on the same window, and under the like circumstances adopted a like course ; for such is the understood routine of the business. And now dawned the leg's millennium. From mere " dejecta membra" each became the centre of a system. The craft grew and flourished exceedingly. Commissions flowed in "---- not single spies, But in battalions." to say nothing of the glut of private custom. Where formerly the circulating medium was “ tick,” it was now not only ready money, but payment in advance upon possible contingency. The leg laid his thousands—upon credit-against tens staked in current coin. Men in the ordinary concerns of life remarkable for their caution and clearsightedness, as regarded betting upon horse-races did that which would have justified their next friends in seeking to protect them by a motion in lunacy. These were not idle gentlemen, or persons of independent fortunes, seeking in excitement relief from ennui, but merchants; individuals connected with the learned professions; traders, wholesale and retail ; artisans in the towns, and bumpkins of all degrees in the rural districts ; in short, representatives of the whole human race, from the peer in purple and fine linen down to the professed pauper, as shown in the recent revelations of sporting in the Mary-le-bone workhouse. As aforesaid, this mania manifested itself some three years ago, and it has gone on gaining favour and proselytes upon the principle of compound interest to the present hour. What is destined to become of it is a myth, whose moral the future shall unfold. It has already given us a taste of Olympics, whose narrative should have no meaner interpreter than the muse of Pindar. For this reason I have prefaced these brief references to “ The Racing Season of 1850" with a confession that it produced much which they do not profess to comprehend...... Cæteraque ingenio, non subeunda meo. Half a score years ago, upon the foundation of the Grand National Steeple Chase, was laid the first stoue of the Liverpool Spring Meeting, now part and parcel of the legitimate turf season. This year, 1850, saw the curtain rise upon its Olympic Games on Aintree at the close of February. The spectacle was not one of high account; the only passage of any interest being the Cup, which Doubt unexpectedly won. Like their antecedent, Coventry and Doncaster Spring Races had a strong alloy—not however, to speak it disparagingly, of steeple-chasing—and it was not till March that, at Warwick, the turfite entered upon what is called " legitimate" business. Here again, Doubt being the fittest, accomplished another victory. Here the first two-year-olds of the year exhibited ; and it must be confessed the sample was not a very promising one. The best was Louis Napoleon. Let those who ask “ What's in a name?" be assured there is a great deal—the present instance is a prece dent. Here some of the sanguine drew a line for Alonzo, in reference to Clincher, which did not “ lead to fortune." The first days of Apri were devoted to the sports of Catterick Bridge. They included the per formances of a very middling company of two-year-olds, headed by England's Glory ; indeed the whole mise en scène went to show that the per: formers would have been the better of a little more rehearsing. Northampton was an overflow, the profession mustering in vast multitudes; anthey had their reward. Bee-hunter, backed at “stunning” odds, wa bowled over by Clelia and Priestess in the Great Northamptonshird Stakes, without the chorus of “and no mistake.” Moreover, Payment brought grist to the fielder's mill, winning against the cracks in a canter. The Cup Stakes fell to the form of Doubt ; and a right good meeting came of this morceau. AH was done artistically and upon the most liberal principle. If any one desires to know the results of such a policy, let him look at what it has done for Epsom in Mr. Henry Dorling's hands, and contrast its present position in the racing world with its status in the good old times of the committee. Croxton Park—albeit with a strong dash of amateur chivalry–had a good professional bit in the Granby Handicap, an easy triumph for Backbiter. Close on its kibes came Epsom Spring Meeting, with its colossal cockney stakes—the Metropolitan. To this handicap the licensed victuallers of the capital and its vicinities contributed a "bonus" of £500, and the “sweeps" and lists a popular paroxysm-which its most enthusiastic promoters would find it difficult to prove a bonus also. With an experienced appreciation of the vast importance of “ form' or present condition to a race-horse, the gallant owner of Backbiter, upon his success at Croxton Park, lost no time in transferring his trump to Surrey, Cheerful was "the pot” for the great event, but because as it was subsequently argued, it was " badly” run-Backbiter won. To my thinking, as much “play” was made for the favourite as was found agreeable. The minor issues scarcely call for any notice. The Two-year-old Stakes Buckhound had the best of—but bad was the best. The third week of April was given to the Craven Meeting at New. market, under anything but propitious “skiey influences.” Neither were its practical results much more kindly. The victory of Clincher won him golden opinions, which turned out far from profitable ; and the Newmarket Handicap, won by Cheerful, did that for the Nigger, whereof came loss to those who adopted it as their touchstone. It was a bad Craven, most especially as regarded the stock that was the cynosure of all observers—not excepting Nutshell or Hardinge. Those who re member the tryst on Lansdowne, in the spring of 1849, will understand how the question of postponing the Bath Races till the summer was received upon their last anniversary. It possessed—that is, the anniversary, not the question—some features of interest. Among them was the début of a certain Derby nomination, hight Deicoon. He won the Dyrham Park Stakes ; and there was considerable gossip, as brother Jonathan might say, “about this here coon." His friends contended that a finer animal never was seen of his age; scandalous tongues hinted that they had often seen as fine a four-year-old, et cetera. The proof of the pudding was reserved for a future occasion. Sauter-la-coupe carried off the Somersetshire Handicap. It should seem, from data of a later date, that this was a slice of good fortune, independent of the closer which destroyed the halo of the Ring. Contemporary with Bath occurred Malton Races: but beyond its local habitation their account did not extend. Once more the venue is laid on Newmarket Heath, it is the First Spring Meeting. Of its five days, that which fell in the middle was May-day, whereof the temperature was such as navigators tell us prevails in winter at the North Pole. Easterly winds, more bitter than “ man's ingratitude"-aye, than Pio Nono's oblivion of Emancipationcut you in twain, congealed your blood, froze into your fibres the lesson you had at your finger's ends—the extremity of cold. Tuesday,--the gala--was remarkable for its superfluity of rabble. There was indeed no lack of gentle company; but alas ! for the reverse of the medal. The Two Thousand brought half a dozen to the post ; in quality a sad falling off, contrasted with the fields which that stake is wont to gather together. It “ pitted” however the champions of some of the leading stables, and consequently excited a large portion of observance. Beehunter was expected to retrieve his tottering reputation, but it was otherwise decreed. Pitsford, the winner, subsequently at Epsom did more than his Newmarket performance augured, and was kept going during the remainder of the season with a pertinacity which showed that he did not come from quarters where they keep cats without requiring them to kill mice, or at least to make the attempt. By Thursday the heath; by stress of drying winds, had become as hard as a turnpike-road. It was merrily rattled over for The One Thousand Guineas Stakes; a close shave for winner between Lord Orford's filly by Slane out of Exotic and Tiff, but giving the first place to the former. Payment also added another item to her season's “tottle” of six races. For the Newmarket Stakes the “pot” boiled over with a vengeance. Nutshell, backed at all sorts of odds, was beaten by Cariboo, destined to make a still greater sensation at no very distant day. A more pleasureless, comfortless, First Spring week I never passed at the metropolis of racing, and so here I bring my record of it to an end. We now turn our attention to the great provincial tryst on the banks of the Dee. The weather, unfortunately, was no improvement upon that of the preceding week ; but, nevertheless, as the million went thither for business, and would have done so had an earthquake awaited them, the attendance was prodigious. It would be a twice-told tale to reeur in these pages to the story of that mighty mercantile handicapThe Cup. Of course it was of the "diamond cut diamond” order: everybody sought to put his neighbour " in the hole," and his friend's money in his own pocket. Some actual casualties there were, such as the mischance that befell Essedarius, when it was too late, moreover, to escape by means of a decent retreat. Well, Mounseer won ; and after putting å handsome stake to his owner's credit died, while yet his laurels were green. If every race-horse should follow suit, the turf would be a safer speculation than it is. Bee-hunter's easy victory for the Dee left the “ lines” for his backers quite as obscure as they were before it came off. The sport—that is to say, the running and the betting about it—was plentiful, and the Chester week of 1850 was a goodly anniversary. But it threw neither lights nor "shadows before ;" so the curtain falls, to rise upon another scene. It is the privilege of the historian to anticipate, when such a course serves his purpose ; so, before descending once more into Cambridge |