7 Eighteenth Sunday af, Trin, 919 7 41 3 46 4 6 s 5 2620 8 23 4 25 4 45 r 6 1221 9 13 5 8 5 29 8 M NEWMARKET SCND. OCT. MEET.S 5 212210 11 5 53 6 20 9T CESAREWITCH STAKES DAY. 10 W Oxford and Camb. Term begins. 11 T Old Michaelmas Day. 12 F NORTHALLERTON RACES. 13 S 14 Lineteenth Sun, af, Trinity. 16 T Wiltshire Coursing Meeting. 19 F 20 S 21 6 1623 r Morning. 6 47 7 21 7 56 8 40 r 6 1925 0 27 9 25 10 s 5 17 2411 15 9 Twentieth Sunday af. Trinity.r 6 36 5 22 M NEWMARKET HOUGHTON MEET. S 4 51 23 T North Berwick Coursing Meeting. r 6 40 24 W DowN ROYAL RACES. 25 TSt. Crispin. 26 F NURSERY STAKES DAY. 27 S r 6 43 9 Morning. s 4 43 10 0 49 8 9 47 r 6 4711 1 11 10 27 11 1 28 Twenty-first Sun, af. Trinity.s 4 3912 2 2011 31 W WORCESTER RACES. 3 32 3411 59 0 23 s 4 3514 4 47 0 451 6 r 6 54 F 5 59 1 25 1 44 RACES IN OCTOBER. Felton Macclesfield 1 Stirling & Cal. Hunt 3| Northallerton...... 12| Royal Down..... 24 .... Newmarket S. O. 8 The Curragh 30 ...... 31 THE RACING IN SEPTEMBER. BY CRAVEN. All my reports go with the modest truth- SHAKSPEARE. The moor anon the 1st Not that the The high turf season is over come the 12th of August. has then claimed many of the patrons of the course, and of September sends forth its summons to the stubble. pursuit of grouse or partridge is a more secure pleasure investment than that of plate or sweepstakes. "Dogs blink their covey, flints withhold the spark, And double barrels, d-n them, miss their mark." But variety is more than a pleasure, it is a natural necessity. "The seasons alter," so do men's tastes; some people grow fond of fishing with a float. Toujours perdrix is known from authority to be worse than workhouse fare. Racing changes its character towards autumn. Highland quarters have absorbed the noble and gentle that whilom graced its revels, and full many a good man from the counting-house is "wasting his sweetness' on Paris and Baden-Baden. Too much concern is expressed about the flat and unprofitable nature of certain meetings which occur at this period of the year. Mountain sport has latterly become eminently the fashion. Prince Albert and Mr. Scrope have set all the world deer-stalking. By "all the world" is meant "the twice two thousand" for whose use and enjoyment this sphere was especially made. It is convenient to preface the present article with something to this effect. The sport of horse-racing is as popular and as national as ever it was, despite the heavy blows and great discouragements to which in latter times it is exposed. If, haply, one meetng of account is tottering from its high estate, another will succeed, or most probably has already arisen in its stead. It is too much to expect that modern men will set up their staff in a country town, speaking some unknown hyperborean tongue, the space of a mortal week, for the abstract gratification of killing time by the Olympic process. Epsom struggles through its four days by means of dinners al fresco, with Tuesday's and Thursday's operas: Ascot is sure of half-a-dozen routes every evening: Goodwood bathes every morning in the sea, and leads an ambrosial life on emerald downs and silver sands. We have outlived the charm of the provincial "race week." Our grandfathers left town for York or Doncaster on Thursday, and returned on the Wednesday week following, delighted with their trip. We take less time in passing from this world to the new. Amateur aquatics also enjoy considerable prestige. Between shooting ashore and cruising afloat, your gentleman of England has a good many calls upon his time in the fall. He is missed from the ring; the odds go a begging; the soul of the leg is sad; his spirit groaneth that another gleaneth the field he hath reaped. This, however, is only an episode in the Olympian drama: the action goes on, and the catastrophe arrives as usual, albeit some of the dramatis personæ are absent from the scene. The minor meetings with which the month of August closed were, many of them, much above their ordinary average, especially Egham, which is obviously "going up." Indeed, the progress of certain lately established races has been without a parallel. Instance the Epsom Spring, which if rumour may be relied on, will next season come out with almost fabulous éclât. It is said that twelve hundred pounds are to be added to the Great Metropolitan Handicap; let us hope this news is not too good to be true. The past month began business at Warwick. The anniversary was under new auspices, and the programme the best 'ever previously put forth. 66 Maxim, "in tempore venit," which, as we have read (it is to be supposed) in the Eton grammar, rerum omnium est primum." The autumnal racing at Warwick precedes, and, so to speak, anticipates Doncaster. The mountain has its accouchement, and the mouse sees the light. This year, it was barren; no shadows foretold the event about to happen i' the north. The whole ring, however, had hastened to the birth, or to the hope of it: the gathering of the legs was a stupendous rendezvous. Of course, all due preparation was made for their reception. The enclosure of the Stand contained increased convenience for the despatch of business, but at an increased charge for admission. This was robbing Peter to pay Paul. The ring wants customers-as much comfort and ease as can be had as accessories; but first, and before all else, customers. Apropos of this matter, both at Warwick and Doncaster, during the late meetings, very great annoyance, if not worse, resulted from the hordes of dirty and disreputable persons who found their way into the Grand Stands, more particularly at the latter place on the latter day. At Doncaster daytickets are not issued; consequently you must either absent yourself altogether from the culminating point of the sporting and fashionable, or pay your guinea for a four days' privilege of entrée. Now, not one in a score of those who purchase take out the worth of their money. Four days are too many at Doncaster, or anywhere else, with nothing but turmoil, and crushing, and confusion, and "roughing it" from morning till night, except a couple of hours' moderate sport; and such. was Doncaster on the recent occasion of its great festival. Therefore a considerable proportion of its visitors had disappeared without waiting for the Cup: these either left their tickets upon their tables, or gave them to their servants, and Friday's admission the Grand Stand was hawked about the streets at a shilling ahead. Thus the tag, rag, and bobtail got in, some for nothing-some for twelvepence-and "You wondered how the devil they got there?" It must be reformed altogether. This is not exactly the epoch in which aristocratic principles may very conveniently be mooted, but nevertheless it is not necessary for the happiness of society that a lady patroness of Almack's should at Doncaster or Epsom Races sit next to a "tout," without a terminus to his trousers. The notice of the Warwick meeting was thus prefaced in a sporting paper:-"There was a large accession of visitors, chiefly sporting men, by the morning express train from town, which, it is almost superfluous to add, was considerably behind time." It is a trite saying, but a true, 66 66 when you're down, down with you." The " rail" is on the inclined plane, so it's all right and natural to give it another kick. The French are a philosophical people, and they have an old saying among them— "Comme il plait à Dieu"-by which they mean "Leave everything to chance." The maxim especially applies to railway travelling. The more care you take of yourself or your plunder," the more sure you are of some mischance. The other day a pressing occasion called me to Epsom. I went to the station at London Bridge, took a return ticket, and accosting the superintendent-a most mature and civil personage whom I met with on the platform-requested, to prevent the possibility of an error, to be put into a carriage bound for that destination. The superintendent bowed, opened a door, and to the question "How soon do we start?" replied, "In five or six minutes." Well, ten minutes or more had elapsed, when, seeing the polite superintendent in the vicinity, I observed, jocularly— "Long six minutes, eh ?" "Are you waiting for a train, sir?" said the mature man, touching his hat. "I'm going to Epsom," I replied; " and I thought we should have been off before this." "Train went five minutes ago," was the answer; "and there aint another for three hours." "Gone!" I cried-" Gone without me! What did you put me here for? You opened this door, and put me into this carriage, and told me it would start for Epsom in five or six minutes. What's the meaning of all this?" "I can't think," rejoined the superintendent, "unless they've been and let the train go without screwing on this here first-class.' Of course I flew into a rage, and sought for the Secretary, who politely sent to say he was engaged, and couldn't attend to me; and I returned as I went to the London-bridge station of the Epsom Railway, five shillings minus for cab-hire. Had I given the guard the wink, and a shilling for a light for my cigar (that is the regular smoking-fee now on all the lines), I should have attained my end—a happier and a richer man. More of this anon. Tuesday, the 4th ult., put the Warwick Autumn Meeting on the scene with ample matter, as will be seen in the sequel. The Trial Stakes, for all ages, began the battle. The four subscribers all "went," Cossachia, in Mr. Rolt's colours, being the favourite, at 5 to 4 on her. This she justified, beating Rochester (second) by a length, in a canter, Chat and Conquest bringing up the rear. The Foal Stakes, 15 subscribers, brought to the post three of those nominations: 7 to 4 on Docility. The finish was altogether between the favourite and Syrup, the pair running up the straight ground stride for stride and Docility winning on the post by a neck. The Handicap of the meetingthe Leamington Stakes-came next. There were 132 subscribers, whereof 100 declared, and 16 came to the post. An awful torrent of rain greeted them there; but, though sharp, it was short. The last odds quoted were 7 to 4 against Fernhill, 7 to 1 Miss Ann, 10 to 1 Collingwood, the same against Sotterley, ditto The Dart, 12 to 1 Ellerdale, and several others at nominal outside prices. The distance is a little over two miles. Without going into details, it will be enough to say that it was a very true-run race, and a fair test of the pretensions-of course, reference being had to the weights-of the animals engaged in it. Miss Ann, carrying 5st. 2lb., won, with Grief (same ages-both three-year-olds), 5st., next, beaten half a length. The favourite, with 7st. 5lbs. up, was "nowhere." Perhaps the pace did not suit him; perhaps he did not like the mud. The winner was said to have backed his horse heavily-£3,000 from the great London chiffonnier of the odds. The Corinthian Stakes, a handicap, in heats, had five nominations, and four runners, the amateur jockeys having three rides for their money. Mr. Jennings won, on his horse Subduer, beating Lord Strathmore, on Miss Burns (second), Morton, on Sister to The Bird of Paradise (third), and Mr. Osbaldeston, on Joc o' Sot (last). The Castle Park Stakes, 13 subscribers, and five to go, introduced Jack Briggs to the consideration of the ring, with 5 to 4 against him. They laid 3 to 1 against Hood, and 5 to 1 against Arena. The favourite won by a neck, thus keeping up the run upon the fielders. The Queen's Plate was a match between Glenalvon and Captain Parrywon by the former in a canter, as he pleased. Lord Exeter's horse, having taken to running, or having been induced thereto by sufficient reasons, has latterly been earning his hay and corn in a praiseworthy fashion. I might here say some smart things about the Newmarket handicaps; but I believe, on such subjects, the less that is said the better, now. Wednesday was uninterruptedly fine, and the attendance unusually good. The list ran over with excellent promise. Business was introduced with a "dodge-a discreditable dodge-doubly detestable at a time when gloomy anticipations were the natural growth of a heavy visitation. At Doncaster it was repeated in the shape of a report that Lord Exeter had fallen a victim to the epidemic. Soon after it reached me, as I passed to the course, I saw some of the ladies who sell the lists engaged in treating a gentleman of the same profession to a bath in a horse-pond by the roadside. It is a practice that might be much more generally had recourse to in cases extra judicial—but crying aloud for atonement. The sports began with the Borough Handicap, 13 subs., and three to run; they laid 5 to 2 on Midia; nothing else named; the result crowned the anticipation, the favourite winning cleverly by half a length. The Avon Stakes, for two and three year olds, had seven nominations and four starters; the odds were 6 to 4 against The Monk, 7 to 4 against the filly out of Gamclass, and a point or two more against either of the others; it was a slashing finish, the favourite only beating Rienzi by a head. The Warwick Gold Cup had originally eleven subscribers, the lot diminishing, however, to a trio at the post. Chanticleer very naturally had " the call" in the ring-the takers being slack at 6 to 4 betted on him; Glenalvon was also much fancied, but Eagle's Plume had no friends. Glenalvon-as the custom is in Lord Exeter's stable-went off with the lead, and, lasting better than the crack, beat him from the turn-in in a canter. Deductions might be artistically drawn from this result-but cui bono? The Great Warwickshire Stakes (?) of ten sovs. each, for three years old, 11 subs., were left for three to contest-Glauca with 6 to 1 on her; it was but a canter over for that good mare; like all else, the course hath its" meal and bran." The County Stakes of 100 sovs., added to a Handicap of 20 |