A WINNING YEAR
On Leave--At the Derby Once More--Lord Lansdowne Takes
Office--Conjurer’s Discomfort--A Gentle Reproach--Irishmen
in India--Another Racing Partnership--A Turf Club
Inquiry--Paperchasers--A Telegram from Lucknow--Lord William’s
Health--Jockey in Trouble Again
Three months is not a long leave to spend at home, it seems to be all
coming and going; it really was not long enough to pick Lord William
up properly--he was badly in need of English air and fare.
A good part of this brief holiday was spent racing and attending to
racing matters. He bought a horse called Pennant, winning a race
with him at Croydon value £200. Oberon was another he purchased, but
turned out rather unreliable. Clarion was also added to his string.
Being at home in time to see the Derby run, he was enthusiastically
greeted by all his old friends, and had a great time. I rather think
it was at this Derby or Ascot that Sir Claude De Crespigny coming up
behind what he recognised as a Beresford back, said “Good morning,
Marcus,” and then, seeing he had made a mistake and it was Lord
William, asked whom he should apologise to? Without an instant’s
hesitation came the reply, “Marcus, of course, you’ve taken the elder
brother for the younger.”
All the Beresford brothers were smart at repartee; indeed I think
they would be hard to beat. Someone asked Lord Charles which of his
brothers he considered the quickest at repartee. To which he replied:
“Marcus. It was only this morning when walking down Regent Street,
ahead of us was a doddering old Irish peer, one of the Backwoodsmen
who came over once a year to vote against Home Rule, I said, ‘Marcus,
if you were a despotic monarch would you keep that Irish nobleman in
your House of Lords?’ ‘Yes,’ said Marcus, ‘I think I should, but I
should fire him first on the _Coronet_.’”
The smartness of this may be lost upon people who are not horsy and
therefore do not know that the part of a horse’s anatomy between the
fetlock and the hoof is termed the coronet.
The Marquess of Lansdowne succeeded Lord Dufferin as Governor-General
of India, holding the office from 1888 to 1893. No events of great
importance occurred during his administration; there were some small
frontier expeditions, but we did not hear much about them.
[Illustration:
_Photo. Elliott & Fry_
THE MARQUIS OF LANSDOWNE]
In 1893, at the end of Lord Lansdowne’s reign, Sir Mortimer Durand,
then Foreign Secretary to the Indian Government, was sent on a
mission to Kabul with a view to defining the limits of influence of
the British Government and the Amir, with respect to the independent
tribes in the wide belt of country between Afghanistan and British
India. However, we are not yet dealing with 1893 but 1888, when Lord
Lansdowne had only just taken office. He was fond of horses and
racing, therefore watched his Military Secretary’s horses work
with sympathetic interest.
From 1888 to 1894 were Lord William’s best racing years in the East,
and all his spare time was devoted to it.
At the November Lucknow meeting his racing partner, His Highness of
Durbangah, won the Stewards’ Purse with FitzWilliam, Dunn up, Daphne
the Dilkoosha Stakes, Soheil, an Arab, the Pony Handicap. On the
third day, a pony named Brandy the Paddock Stakes for maiden ponies,
besides various others which I forget.
At the Calcutta chief meeting FitzWilliam won the Trials by way of a
good beginning. Eunice, who had at one time and another won a good
many races for Lord William, now won the Karnaul Stakes. Metal was
backed for a small fortune for the Viceroy’s Cup, when one of those
unexpected things happened which must always be reckoned with in
racing; he was beaten by his stable companion making the pace too hot
for him, and Myall King again romped in a winner. They also won races
with Pekoe and Shamhad, while a grey English mare named Venus, whom
nobody expected to do anything, won the Eclipse Stakes for them. Lord
Clyde and Clarion won a couple of races at the Extra Meeting, making
a tremendous winning year, but not a profitable one taking it all
round.
It was at this juncture that beautiful Arab pony Blitz came upon the
scenes; the charming picture of him was given to me by Admiral Sir
John Hext, who agreed with Lord Bill “he was one of the best that
ever looked through a bridle.” Lord William sold Metal about this
time for £500 to someone in Australia.
During the Simla season he rode a good many races himself on
Hardware, Nancy and Shamshad. He also won a match on Hakim against
Mr. Laureston’s Prince Charlie, 2000 rupees a side.
In July news reached Lord Bill of the death from heart disease of Mr.
Fitch, who for some years had looked after and conducted the Calcutta
lotteries, also acted as secretary to the Dehra Races. The poor man
died in England while home for a holiday. Lord William felt much
regret, for he had been closely associated with him, naturally, over
racing matters.
Mr. Fitch was another of the many men his lordship had befriended; in
fact had been set on his feet and owed all his success in life to him.
The season was jogging along much in the usual fashion, plunging
from the sublime to the ridiculous and the ridiculous to the sublime
all the time. In India we all become dual natured, whether it is the
climate, the atmosphere we live in, or the desire to leave no time
_to think_ I do not know; but we may in the morning be told, someone
with whom we have been in daily touch is dead--we say how sad, open
our letters, and make all our arrangements for the day’s amusements,
which we fulfil, leaving just time to pay a last tribute to one
whose hand we have so often held, whose voice and laughter is still
sounding in our ears; we then hurry home from the cemetery and go
out to dinner, or to the theatre, and home to bed late, hoping to be
so tired that sleep will claim us immediately. It is not that we are
callous really, far from it; the sad news in the morning has left
a lonesome feeling in our hearts, an aching for the poor body who
such a short time ago was full of all he or she were going to do when
they went “home,” it makes home seem very far away and the present so
full of prickling possibilities, and we feel we must laugh or cry,
and our English objection to wearing our hearts on our sleeves makes
us appear gay, and thus we are pitch-forked from the sublime to the
ridiculous and vice versa, still if we never reached the sublime we
should miss the picturesqueness.
I once asked Lord Bill when we were speaking of this very matter,
that is to say, the amount of feeling we contrived to hide in our
everyday life, when he told me of several strange things that had
happened in his life of which he had had strong pre-sentiments; one
was in connection with racing, and the others purely private matters;
this led me to ask him if he was superstitious; he replied, “I like
to think I am not, but I am always very careful not to wound people’s
susceptibilities on that point, having some of that feeling which is
supposed to make us wondrous kind.”
Superstition is a thing I suppose that can hardly be described or
accounted for, as some of the happenings in our lives refuse to be
explained by any hitherto understood methods or any rules or lines of
our acquaintance; and also there are times when we are not ourselves,
oh strange and bitter paradox!
Lord William’s way of keeping people in order was very much to the
point generally, and yet he did it very charmingly. An A.D.C. once
had been hauled over the coals by him, and at the end of it said,
“What a good fellow Lord Bill is, how thoroughly he rubbed me down,
and yet how like a gentleman.”
Another rather amusing instance was when the Rajah of Nabha was
giving a party or entertainment to Lord Lansdowne. A conjurer had
been engaged to amuse those present; he was a rather persistent
personage, at that time wandering round India seeking a living, and
performing at native courts.
Lord William, who of course had the arranging of all this sort of
functions, told this professor his entertainment must not last more
than twenty minutes; this he strongly objected to, declaring it
would entirely spoil his show, did not give him a chance, and so
on, he would require at least an hour. While expressing his sorrow
at causing so much annoyance and disappointment, Lord Bill stuck to
his point and said not more than twenty minutes could possibly be
allowed; he evidently saw defiance in the man’s attitude, and made
his arrangements accordingly.
The performance began, Lord William looking on, watch in hand. At
the end of a quarter of an hour the British magician was warned he
had only five minutes more. He took no notice, and continued his
lofty way. At the end of twenty minutes he was told to stop. Still
he took no notice, continuing his tricks and patter, when at a sign
from Lord William a native conjurer, who had been watching huddled
up in a corner, bounded into the middle of the floor with a tom-tom
and commenced a most deafening and unearthly noise. A tom-tom, it
should be explained, is a rattling sort of thing rather like a drum
gone wrong. The native had been waiting for the sign of command,
watching the conjurer much as a terrier watches a rat, waiting to be
told to “Go.” This indignity was too much for the white performer, he
collapsed, and the native then proceeded to make mango trees grow in
a few seconds out of stones and from under flower-pots, etc. Those
present were much tickled at the whole proceeding.
One more of Lord William’s gentle reproaches. This time it was
addressed to a youth fresh out from home, where he had been much
spoilt; he was complaining about the disrespectful way the regiment
he had just joined treated him, he was not accustomed to be treated
in such a manner. The poor lad was learning that painful but
wholesome lesson, his value in public opinion, and he did not like
it. Thinking he had a sympathetic listener in Lord William, and not
knowing him as well as some of us did, the twinkle in his eye did not
act as a warning, and at last the lad worked himself up to such a
pitch of feeling over his wrongs that he said he should write to his
mother and tell her he should return home at once. No words had come
from Lord Bill, who appeared to be full of interest and sympathy,
but when he was told that the unhappy youth meant to return to his
mother, he said sweetly and quietly, “But, my dear chap! think what
a disappointment it would be to her!” Even then the young lad did
not at first grasp what was meant, but when Lord Bill added, “After
fixing you up with new shirts and pocket handkerchiefs, to have you
back on her hands so soon.”
Lord William, seeing the boy was nearly tearful, walked off with
him, arm-in-arm, talked it all over quietly, gave some good advice,
and, I understand, left the poor boy happier and probably much wiser.
What a number of Irishmen have ruled in India and been famous there.
Lord Mayo, born in Dublin, who in 1868 succeeded Lord Lawrence. I
should think he was the only Governor-General who had farmed for his
livelihood, and be it noted made enough to live upon. When he came
of age he was Mr. Bourke. His father, whose eldest brother was then
living, could not afford him any sort of allowance, but rented one of
his farms to him to try and make what he could out of it, and I have
been given to understand he did make it pay, which is more than many
gentlemen farmers do, methinks!
Lord Mayo is reported to have said, “And many a long day have I stood
in the market selling my beasts.”
Then there was Lord Connemara, Governor of Madras, responsible for
the well-being and happiness of thirty million souls; Lord Lansdowne,
a Kerry nobleman; Lord Roberts, a Waterford hero of Kandahar fame;
Lord William Beresford, V.C., the unequalled Military Secretary and
patron of the turf; Sir George White, V.C., who brought Burmah into
order; Sir David Barbour, a perfect juggler in figures, who brought
the much feared and dreaded financial deficit of the country to a
considerable surplus, and many more if there were time and space to
recount them.
The Annandale Racecourse was now enlarged and levelled. It had cost
large sums of money, but was satisfactory, and the races now began
to draw horses from Umballa and Meerut. The lotteries on the first
day’s racing after the new course was “declared open,” as they say at
bazaars, amounted to 20,000 rupees, so Lord William hoped it would
not be long before the debt on the ground was paid off. A little
lady, who was one of Lord William’s most devoted admirers (aged six),
was crying one day at Simla when he happened to look in on the way
down to one of the gymkhanas, and when he asked her what was the
matter and took her on his knee, she threw her arms round his neck
weeping salt tears down his collar, saying, “Mover won’t let me go
and see you run in your pyjamas.” This required a little explanation.
He gathered she had heard her mother and friends talking about some
race they hoped he would win at the coming gymkhana. Not having been
very long in the country she had got a little mixed between gymkhana
and pyjamas. Lord Bill pleaded so hard for his little friend to be
allowed to go to the meeting, consent was at last given, and he said
he could see in the child’s eyes how disappointed she was that he did
not appear in pyjamas after all.
In October the usual exodus took place, and Lord Bill found time
to see some of his horses win races at the November 1889 Lucknow
meeting. Blitz, beautiful Blitz, won the Dilkoosha Stakes; Nellie the
Little Go Chase, FitzWilliam the Bar Cup, Betsy the Standard Plate.
At Dehra, Meerut and Umballa he won four races. He rode in the Meerut
Charger Race himself, winning on Jim. At Pindi he rode one of the
races, winning on Landshart II; the other two were won by Daphne and
Ensign. Four races in one day to the credit of his stable.
A little later, at the Calcutta 1889-90 races his Euclid seemed to be
losing form, but Pennant was going strong and won the Trials; Chester
also won the Pony Cup.
Lord William’s racing partner, His Highness the Maharajah of
Durbangah, was most anxious to be a winner of the Viceroy’s Cup, and
Pennant being in Lord William’s opinion the likely winner, with his
characteristic kindliness sold the horse to His Highness just before
the race, so that the Durbangah colours might be carried. The horse
won easily, greatly to his new owner’s pleasure.
That wonderful pony, Lord Clyde, won the International Pony Race.
Speaking at the Turf Club dinner Lord William confessed he thought a
_big_ stable a mistake. In spite of having gained this experience,
which led people to imagine he intended to reduce his stable, he
added to it, and for the first time sent some of his horses to Madras
to see what he could do there. At the Autumn Meerut Meeting he had
no luck this year with his horses, chiefly owing, no doubt, to their
usual jockey, Dunn, who knew their temperaments and little ways,
being away at the time ill, which was hard on the horses and hard on
their owner.
[Illustration: BEAUTIFUL BLITZ]
[Illustration: PILOTEER WINNING A TROTTING PRIZE]
The big Calcutta meeting on December 26th, 1889, saw the beginning
of the Presto row, which most racing people will remember. The horse
was entered for the Walter Locke Cup, and was expected to win, Dunn
riding, but was not even placed! It was suggested that it was the
result of getting off badly at the start, the horse swerving
round, losing several lengths. This caused some comment and much
disappointment, which reached boiling point two days later, when on
the 28th Presto again ran with Dunn up for the Kooch Behar Cup, 1¼
miles, winning easily, there never being a moment’s doubt from start
to finish that the race was his, even leaving Moorhouse, a very fast
horse, and several others hopelessly behind.
The public were now thoroughly upset, though on the face of the thing
it seemed natural that if the horse lost so many lengths at the
start in the race on the 26th, it would quite account for relative
positions at the end of the two races. There were, however, those
who considered Dunn’s riding was at fault, therefore the Stewards of
the Turf Club held an enquiry into it. Mr. Gasper, the clever lawyer
who has already been introduced, and from whom Lord William bought
Mercury, appeared to uphold the complaint. Whether Dunn was in any
way to blame for this different running of Presto I am not able to
state, but be that as it may, he stood very little chance in any case
with Mr. Gasper up against him, he being the most brilliant criminal
lawyer Calcutta had ever seen, and he at any rate believed Dunn to
blame, and waxed eloquent in consequence.
After a long and tedious investigation, over which there had been
some feeling, the Stewards fully exonerated Lord William, and while
not stating Dunn pulled, they were of the opinion he deserved censure
for bad riding, which had certainly justified the enquiry.
The whole affair was much to be regretted, and makes one wonder how
a man can be found who cares to have his honour resting in the hands
of paid servants like jockeys, trainers, and so forth, when any day
what a man prizes more than anything else in the world may be thrown
to the winds, through absolutely no fault of his own.
The course at Calcutta had been expanded, and the buildings improved,
greatly owing to the efforts of the sporting and popular merchant Mr.
Charles Moore, who took great interest in racing and the bettering of
all its conditions.
Following the Calcutta meeting came Tollygunge, where the stable
finished the season well, Blitz winning the Belvedere Stakes in
January 18th, 1893, Gold Leaf the Sensation Handicap, Traveller the
Long Distance Handicap, FitzWilliam the Spring Purse, and Nellie the
Pony Chase.
I had almost forgotten the cold weather paper-chases, having so much
of interest to recount in the way of racing. Lord Bill was very fond
of riding after paper, and the Calcutta Paperchases were no child’s
play. He ran second in the Cup in the cold weather of 1880-81, riding
Oliver Twist, third on Mariner 1881-82, first on Premier in 1882-83,
first on Diamond in 1887-88.
Captain Muir, commanding the Body Guard, who has already been
mentioned as having been left in charge of Lord Bill’s affairs when
he started for Zululand, won the Calcutta Paperchase Cup three years
running on his Warwickshire Lad, I believe, in the cold weather of
1877-78--1878-79--1879-80. The only person that I know of with such a
record.
I ought perhaps to explain that the Viceroy and each Governor has a
Body Guard for escorts, guards, sentries, etc., much the same as the
Household Cavalry in England with the King.
The Viceroy’s Body Guard was very impressive with its scarlet uniform
and lances.
What a gift it is to be able to speak well. Lord Bill was a happy
speaker, always to the point, and always amusing, and how people
do like to be amused. We have only to look at the money made by
humorists like Mr. George Robey, who earns £200 a week to make people
laugh, and is worth it, or he would not receive that handsome money;
Little Tich with his £250 a week, or Cissy Loftus, the mimic, who
received £250 a week for her services.
Compare with this the pay of some of our Indian officials, toiling in
the heat, often separated from all that makes life lovely. Truly it
is better to be funny than great, but then after all it is great to
be funny. Lord William thought every boy ought to be taught to speak,
and considered debating societies excellent practice for them, which
no doubt they are, teaching them not only to think, but to express
themselves intelligibly and to frame their sentences.
As Lord William expressed it, “Everybody has not got the gift of the
gab,” but most can acquire it, and no doubt this is true to a great
extent; some great speakers have been miserable failures to begin
with, though overflowing with things they wanted to say. Disraeli was
an example. His first speech in the House of Commons was an utter
failure, possibly partially from nervousness, also want of practice;
eventually his phraseology was both forceful and picturesque.
While Huxley, giving his first lecture at the Royal Institute, I
am told, was quite painful, so much so, that he received a letter
imploring him never to speak again, which was not encouraging.
Some can speak and cannot write, others can write and cannot speak.
This has been brought home to me lately while turning over old
letters and documents searching for those relating to the subject of
these memories.
I have come across forgotten letters that I have received at
different times from India, Afghanistan, Zululand, Burmah, South
Africa, East Africa, Russia, France, Egypt, in fact from most of the
places where there have been stirring times during my life.
Many of the letters written by the chief actors, others from those
who at the time of writing were taught “not to think, but to do as
they were told--thinking was for their superiors!”
It has interested me placing them side by side and studying the
different views held by the writers of the various situations they
were dealing with, not all the facts being by any means in accordance
with the accounts that have been handed down for our digestion.
Some of these writers could have thrown very vivid light on various
situations, but they have carried their griefs and in some cases
their injustices with them to their lonely, uncared-for graves.
Amongst these letters are a few written in bald John Bull,
plum-puddingy jerky sentences, like roughly sketched in pictures to
be filled in later; possibly they found speaking easier than writing.
Then there are the letters dealing with the same situations, so
eloquent, so full of human sympathy and yet so dramatic that it is
almost like living through the experiences oneself.
I suppose mistakes are not sins when people have honestly done their
best, but then the best is sometimes painfully foolish, and it is
poor consolation to those who have suffered in consequence of it,
that it was all a mistake!
We must now hark back to Lord William’s racing. He was hoping to win
the Civil Service Cup at Lucknow, the best pony race in India. He and
all the staff who could possibly get away from Calcutta went to see
it run. Two of Lord William’s ponies were entered for it, namely, the
famous Arab Blitz and an English pony named Bustle. The former was a
strong favourite, and Lord William thought it a certain win.
Before leaving Calcutta he promised Lady Lansdowne to telegraph to
her the result of the race. At dinner that night Sir John Hext asked
Lady Lansdowne if she had heard from Lord William as was arranged.
She replied “No; I am rather disappointed.” Dinner had not proceeded
very far when the expected telegram arrived. After reading it Her
Excellency burst out laughing, and handed it to Sir John, who read,
“Bustle _in front_ this time.” So the English pony had won the Cup.
Myall King won the Horse Handicap, there being nothing there that
could touch him.
Lord William’s health was again troubling him. He had in fact had
enough of India and its climate, though he would not allow it. He was
advised to go home on leave for a while, which he agreed to do, but
did not take long enough to benefit him materially, that curse of
India, dysentery, claiming him at intervals.
Before leaving for home he sold Euclid (whom he considered no longer
of much racing value) to Count Poloki for £700.
While Lord Bill was at home Weekes, who it will be remembered
bought Myall King for him, bought another horse in July for the
Durbangah-Beresford stable for 800 guineas. Various items of news
reached Lord Bill while at home which were worrying. One being that
anthrax had broken out at Dehra in the stables. Those who have had
any experience of that disease will be able to picture his feelings
on receiving this news, it being quite on the cards that every horse
might be dead in a few hours. Poor Shamshad was the first of the
victims. Fortunately stringent measures were taken by Willson, Lord
William’s trainer, before many had succumbed.
Then followed the unpleasant news that Dunn was in trouble again,
for the confederacy stable was active, though Lord Bill was away.
This time it appears Dunn’s riding was so peculiar from the moment he
left the paddock that the Stewards felt it imperative to institute
another enquiry, regarding the running of Cumberland, and they came
to the conclusion he had not ridden the horse to win, in consequence
of which he was suspended for twelve months, rather taking his breath
away, riding being his means of livelihood. This punishment was later
added to by disqualification for life, for which no one could feel
sorry, if he was unable to serve faithfully such a good master he did
not deserve any mercy.
I believe in 1892, thinking Dunn had suffered enough, his sentence
was remitted.
Lord William now engaged the services of that first-rate jockey
Vinall, and he was out in India by October, when his lordship
returned, looking much better for his visit to the German Spas, where
he had amongst other things been drinking the waters.
In December racing people’s breath was taken away by finding
Lord Bill had bought and landed in the country a couple of South
American horses, which under the then existing rules were rated
as country-breds and carried weight with that class. Vixen and
Westminster were the names of these surprise packets.
At the Calcutta second meeting Escapade, Labby and Goldleaf won
races. Pamela also won her first prize, the Walter Locke Cup, while
good old Myall King romped away with the Viceroy’s Cup for the third
time, value 5850 rupees.
The brilliant lawyer, Mr. Gasper, died in December of this year on
the way to England for a holiday; if I remember rightly he died of
heart failure. Lord William at once wrote a kindly, sympathetic
letter to his wife, which, considering he cannot have felt very
warmly towards her husband after the bitter tone he took up against
his jockey and horses, was good of him, and I hope the lady
appreciated the spirit that prompted him to do this gentle act.
Gentle courtly manners are the fruit of noble natures and loyal minds.
January 1st, 1891, saw Lord William gazetted a full-blown colonel and
K.C.I.E.