proposition met with their approbation; and the cordial and liberal manner in which it was responded to on their part was amply apparent from the fact of the immediate establishment of two new stakes, viz., the Municipal Stakes of 500 sovereigns each, 200 sovereigns forfeit, for two-year-olds, colts to carry 8st. 71b., and fillies 8st., Red House in; and the Great Yorkshire Handicap of 25 sovereigns each, 15 sovereigns forfeit, but only 5 if declared, &c., with 200 sovereigns added by the Corporation, the owner of the second horse to receive 200 sovereigns out of the stakes, the third to save his stake, and the winner to pay 20 sovs. to the judge. The loss of the St. Leger would have been a death-blow to the races; and that famous race, the great prize of the north, and the source of attraction to the whole country, not disregarding the sister kingdom, had a narrow escape from taking wing to Knavesmire. In that case, the best property of the Corporation would have been comparatively worthless, with the inevitable consequence of dilapidation and ruin.

The extraordinary interest attached to the decision of the race in 1842, BLUE BONNET's year, was strikingly apparent by the immense attendance, which appeared to equal Memnon's celebrated period. The problem had again to be solved whether another winner of the Derby could add to his reputation by winning the St. Leger also; or whether Attila, like his predecessors, Gustavus, Bloomsbury, Plenipo, and Coronation, was doomed to share the same fate. He continued

to maintain his position at the top of the betting-a position which seemed to be justified by the comparative ease with which he carried off the Epsom prize. But, although rumours prevailed that he had defeated all his stable companions at Pigburn in a trial which took place during the preceding week, many doubts were entertained, bearing in mind his defeat at Goodwood, as to his proving the victor at Doncaster. The number of subscribers amounted to one hundred and thirty-three, and seventeen competitors came to the post. Immediately on the appearance of Attila on the ground, all eyes were directed towards him. He appeared nervous, timid, and fretful, and it was evident that, whatever might have been his success with regard to the Derby, the charm of the Pigburn stable was about to be dissolved. Indeed, so fretful had the favourite become, that he was saddled in his own stable, previous to walking to the ground, and Scott had to mount him with extreme caution. Up to the last moment, however, he maintained his position at the head of the betting, although Blue Bonnet had "come very suddenly on the evening before the race, and was heavily backed by her party at "The Rooms.' At starting, the odds stood eleven to eight against Attila, seven to one against Balinkeel, eight to one against Blue Bonnet, ten to one against Cabrera, thirteen to one against Eboracum, fourteen to one against Fireaway, fourteen to one against Rosalind, the same against Policy, twenty to one against Sea-horse, and twenty-five to one against Master Thomas.

The seventeen competitors, when assembled together, presented a most beautiful racing picture, as they cautiously and anxiously advanced up to the post. Of course, the first attempt to get off was a failure. At the second, however, the whole seventeen sprang off in

admirable style, and the excitement from the immense multitude became intense. The eyes of one party were riveted on Sea-horse, and his position was deemed rather unfavourable. The lead was taken by Attila (W. Scott), at a tremendous pace, many thought very incautiously. Close at hand were Eboracum (R. Heseltine), Scalteen (Calloway), Maxim (J. Cartwright), Priscilla Tomboy (Oates), Happy-go-Lucky (Bradley), and Fireaway (Jaques). These were in a compact body, and close behind them were Sea-horse (Chapple), Cattonite (J. Day), and Ballinkeel (J. Robinson). They had not, however, proceeded far before Maxim and Priscilla Tomboy fell back, as if the first burst was too violent for them, and they took up a position in the rear of Sea-horse and Cattonite. Eboracum then made a most determined effort, apparently to defeat Attila at once. He passed Scalteen, and at the T.Y.C. he fairly coupled the great favourite. This movement was observed from the Grand Stand, and the general cry was, "Attila is in great difficulty!"-an opinion which was confirmed almost immediately; for they had not proceeded much farther before he was fairly beaten off, and every hope of his winning completely extinguished. All the horses, however, were now running in a compact body, and the race became doubly interesting. Attila fell back with Eboracum, who had already got a burster with Scalteen. In the meanwhile, Priscilla Tomboy had gradually kept up towards the front, along with Blue Bonnet (T. Lye). The running was then taken up by Fireaway, with a crowd of horses immediately behind. At the Red House, Blue Bonnet advanced from the throng, and her rider, perceiving a favourite opening next the ditch, laid her in that position, with Priscilla Tomboy close at hand. Attila's chance was now decidedly gone, and many remarks were immediately made that the charm of Pigburn was broken. The pace from the bend at the Red House to the end of the white rails was very quick. On reaching the latter point, Fireaway had the lead, and began to show his temper; but, in consequence of being ridden in the same colour as Attila, many persons were deceived in taking the Irish horse for the Derby winner. Fireaway, however, rushed along in gallant style, and looked like the winner. At the two-mile post, below the distance, Blue Bonnet next the rails and Priscilla Tomboy on the right were nearly even with Fireaway, and Cabrera (Noble) was immediately behind them; but, evidently, with little chance of reaching the extreme front. In the meanwhile, Seahorse had come away from the beaten horses, and, at the distance, seemed to be gaining ground with extraordinary rapidity. Blue Bonnet, however, did not slacken her speed for one moment; and, when within about two hundred yards from home, she took the lead from Fireaway, amid loud and bursting exclamations-" Lord Eglinton-Eglinton!" "Blue Bonnet wins!" Opposite the stand, too, Priscilla Tomboy got in advance of Fireaway. He was in difficulty: the whip and spur were applied; and he had no sooner felt either the one or the other, than he turned restive, and striking out behind, lost all chance of the race. Blue Bonnet held on her course, was never afterwards headed, and won the race by about a length. Before reaching the post Seahorse challenged Priscilla Tomboy, and defeated her for second place by half a length. Fireaway was run to a length

1

by Balinkeel. Cabrera was a few lengths behind. Then came the remainder, headed by Attila, Phamacopoeia (Nat), and Policy (J. Butler). Cattonite was defeated early in the struggle. The race was run in three minutes eighteen seconds. The value of the stakes to the winner, £3,600. Blue Bonnet was trained by Dawson.

Thus terminated one of the best-contested, one of the most splendid races ever witnessed. On the part of the respective jockeys there was manifested a firm determination to carry off the laurel of victory, especially after Attila had been defeated, and a struggle ensued which, while it brought into full exercise the skill and courage of each rider, brought out also the powers and capabilities of each horse; and it was evident that, however unexpected the result of the contest with regard to the winner, the best competitor proved the victor. That much disappointment was expressed by the friends of the Pigburn stable, was amply manifested; for, up to almost the last moment, full reliance continued to be placed upon the powers of the Derby winner-a reliance which seemed justified by the well-known skill and experience of his trainer, who had carried off the four St. Legers immediately preceding. The truth, however, appears to have been that Colonel Anson's horse (Attila), notwithstanding the encouraging reports from his training ground, got such a "sobbing" at Goodwood, with both whip and spur, carrying 8lb. more than his competitors of the same age, that he never recovered it and never forgot it. Even when he reached the town, on Sunday morning, from Pigburn, with the stable-boy upon his back, and his head held by one of the grooms, he sweated very much. He was fretful, uneasy, and nervous, staring alarmed at the crowd from side to side, with the greatest fear and anxiety. This state was also apparent when he paraded in front of the Grand Stand-a state, indeed, which justified the conclusion to which many attentive observers came, that he would be most wofully defeated. Attila was certainly not the horse he had been; and if any further proof of this opinion were required, after his defeat for the St. Leger-for he could not couple Sea-horse at the finish-it was presented in the fact that he cut a miserable figure in the race for the Cup on the following Thursday. But his starting for that race was only in accordance with the wish of his owner, to let the public see, fairly and openly, that his defeat for the St. Leger was solely to be attributed to his inability to win, and nothing else. If, perhaps, he had never started for Goodwood, he would have achieved the highest fame by carrying off the St. Leger in addition to the Derby. Nevertheless, looking at the result in another point of view, it was the occasion of much gratification to a large number of the lovers of the turf, not mixed up with the risks and perplexities of the betting ring, to witness the victory achieved by one whose uprightness, generosity, and strictly honourable bearing in every respect had never been surpassed, the Earl of Eglinton.

Blue Bonnet-who, by the way, was defeated on the Friday following, by Sally, for the Park Hill Stakes-stood fifteen hands two inches high, her colour a good bay, but rather plain in the head, with upright ears, powerful quarters, wide hips, rather roach-backed, splendid shoulders, excellent depth in the girth, and fine neck; on the whole, a fine, lengthy, racing-like animal.

This year (1842), the turf sustained great loss in the demise of two of its most generous supporters-the Duke of Cleveland and Christopher Wilson, Esq. His Grace expired in London, January 29th, in the seventy-sixth year of his age; and Mr. Wilson on the 25th of May, in his seventy-ninth year. The noble Duke won the St. Leger in 1831, with Chorister. Mr. Wilson bore the title of the Father of the Turf; and up to that time, the only gentleman who had won the Derby and St. Leger with the same horse, Champion, in 1800; and it is a remarkable circumstance that the Father of the Turf breathed his last on the Derby day.

In a former number I gave my readers an article entitled "Wanted a Yacht," and I now proceed to point out the delights and miseries I experienced when I found my name entered in the list of the Royal Thames Yacht Club, as owner of the Highland Lassie cutter of forty-five

tons.

The Highland Lassie had been built in the Clyde as a wager boat ; albeit, fortunately for me, the shipwright had united strength with speed, and, notwithstanding her crankness from being overmasted, no vessel proved herself more seaworthy than did this little craft, after I had bought my experience at some little cost, and reduced her spars and mainsail by many feet and cloths. My sailing master, called par excellence, the Captain, had donned a new suit of nauticals, and, with a gold laced cap, strutted the deck as proud as any peacock I ever beheld, as the gig, containing my own dear self, and manned by two athletic young sailors, pulled alongside the yacht. "Weigh enough. In bow!" I exclaimed in a pompous tone, but not in time to save my yacht's copper from a severe blow from the stem of my boat. The "skipper" gave a look of horror, and, shrugging up his shoulders, seemed to imply "What a land-lubber!" In a minute, however, he recovered his self-possession, and took off his cap, as for the first time I trod the well-cleaned deck of my own vessel.

"Well, Captain," I said, somewhat vauntingly, "I hope you have found the Highland Lassie answer the description I got of her from her late owner."

"There's no denying, my Lord, that she is a very fine vessel," he

replied; "but there are yet many things to be done before she will be perfect."

"How?" I eagerly enquired.

"Why at present she's overmasted, and her boom is large enough for a yacht of nearly double her tonnage; by reducing both she will become a wholesome vessel, while at the present time she is so crank, that I should not like to trust myself in her outside the Isle of Wight; in the least bubble of a sea she's rail under; and it was only yesterday, when I brought her from Lymington, that we were under a close-reefed mainsail and storm jib, when the " Lively," of five-and-thirty tons, was standing well up under a whole mainsail and gaff topsail; that aint altogether right.' "In other respects I trust she is all could expect." you Pretty well, "her decks are rather thin; Lord," responded he : and the starboard bulwarks, which were stove in last season off Greenwich, have been shockingly repaired-all paint and putty. The chain cable, too, is so choked with rust in the locker, that it must be put in the fire and be galvanized; for woe betide us if we get alongside a barge or collier in the river, and wish to let go our anchor with any range of cable."

my

"I'll see to those things, Captain," I responded, when he proceeded : "The standing and running rigging is very defective, and the mainsail won't stand a puff."

"What do you mean?" I enquired. "I understood her stores to be in perfect order."

"Why the truth is, my Lord, she's been very badly looked after; everything was put away in a hurry, and the sail loft was rather leaky. I don't think she could have had a breath of air let into her during the winter, and the gig and dingy have been most scandalously treated; you will have, I fear, to order two new boats."

Whilst this conversation was going on, the truth of the statement was made apparent to me; for one man was employed baling out the gig, while the other two hands showed me the thin parts of the mainsail. Disgusted with what I had seen on deck, I dived below, and there found I had only escaped from Scylla to be wrecked on Charybdis.

"The after-cabin leaks a little," proceeded Captain Miles, " and the bull's-eye in the state-room has got damaged somehow; it's a sad pity, but by rights she ought to have been thoroughly caulked before the new chintz was put up." I looked round, and found my beautiful new lining covered with mouldy marks. "The painter, too, has not made a good job of it; he ought to have scraped off the old coating and ironed it down; you see the stains show through the white; and the bulwarks and companion, to which I forgot to call your attention, are full of blisters; they had not time to dry, so the least touch or chafing will ruin them." I looked aghast, as I saw the white-and-gold after-cabin speckled with buff-coloured marks of iron, giving the appearance of one of Batty's best-trained skewbald horses. "The china door-handles don't exactly fit, and one of the plates was cracked in putting on; they ought to have had a lining of thin wash-leather."

I was dumbfounded at the catalogue of grievances, when my tormentor continued: "I have made out a sort of a list, and an estimate of what is necessary"