his racing days were over. The Duke of Richmond's team shewed well; Reel that won the Hopeful also carrying off the Clearwell very cleverly. This buying of racing stock is no bad spec. Grey Momus and Reel have very tolerably repaid the investments in both their cases: the filly cost £250 at the Hampton Court sale. In this meeting the case of Loutherbourg, winner of the Goodwood Stakes, which were withheld on a question of pedigree, was decided, and the nomination declared good. Appended to the decision was this observation :—“ It is the opinion of this club (the Jockey), that it is necessary to declare their extreme disapprobation of horses being started for races without the intention, on the part of their owners, of trying to win with them." It is a thing much to be desired, that the rules of the Jockey Club underwent a careful revision, and that the code was more comprehensive and distinct. The very matter of their "extreme disapprobation," in this instance, was that for which a bonus was offered in the articles of the great Shield at Goodwood, and of which the winner, Colonel Peel,' the most honourable of all the upright on the turf, avowedly took advantage. Without staying to examine the doings in the provinces, good in themselves, but not prominent enough for a renewed notice, we come to the season's finale, the Houghton. This was, as usual, a week's racing; that is to say, from Monday to Saturday inclusive. Nothing appeared, however, to affect, in any degree, the speculation for the great Spring events. For the bettors round-the industrious classes-the present winter ought to be a productive one, as, no doubt, a very large field of horses will be in the market, at "excellent prices," for the Derby. The Criterion, a fair race, intrinsically, went no farther; Cara, though she beat a good field on paper, had still the penalties on Reel and Bulwark all on her side. The remainder of the sport, made up of stakes of various kinds and matches, had no prospective interest, and therefore is not germane to our present purpose.

With this epitome of its events, the notice of the season closes; the past has been told; the future is beyond our speculation. Like the worthy, in the German romance, its career has been terminated without a shadow.

AN INQUIRY INTO THE ORIGIN OF STEEPLE-CHASES ;

WITH AN AUTHENTIC ACCOUNT OF THE EARLIEST

STEEPLE-CHASE ON RECORD.

66

"Away! away! and on we dash,

Torrents, less rapid, and less rash.”—Byron.

MAN is a most inquisitive animal. Accounting himself at the very tip-top of creation, he seems continually anxious to come to the bottom of every thing. Each one we meet is but another individual of the same primitive species. From the beginning of the world, search has produced research, and they have most pride who have pried most. How many a restless spirit, not contented with the enjoyment of effects,

Advisedly, I say "authentic," for my authority is that of an eye-witness; and the names constitute the only fiction of my narrative.-S. C.

(if he have any) enrols himself, a briefless barrister of nature, for ever seeking after and accepting the most trivial causes. Priapus was a favourite god among the Heathen, who celebrated the renown of Priam. More modern times have upheld all the spirit of the inquisition. The primary essay of our young intellect, is in the primer. The stay of our land is in the law of primogeniture. The hope of the highest is in the private council. The clergy look up to their primate and all the proudest in nobility and rank, still boast of their priority.

Methinks I see the reader wondering what all this "a priori" sophism has to do with the subject. But the best huntsmen often make the widest casts, and it is my intention farther to excite his innate curiosity, in shewing how a man becomes a medical operator upon words, which open all their secrets to the sharpset edge of etymology. Every one is, in heart, an admirer of this inquisitorial art. No matter what new subject may be brought before him, forthwith he' sets about dissecting it ;-searching into its causes, analysing its contents, and following up its consequences;-prying into means, supposing motives, and attributing ends, until, from the success of many operations, he is enabled to leave off his labours, and build up for himself a notable fabric of strong truth, cemented with most plastic falsehoods ; adorning it with pleasant ornaments of fancy. But now, behold! a subtler inquirer comes, and with the searching breath of criticism, loosening the weak construction of his wit, shakes the whole heap, and hurls all reason and reduction indiscriminately down, in ruin irretrievable.

How often has this been the fate of the undaunted etymologist! and yet, "since I profess to give authentic record of the rise of a most fashionably followed sport, some of its present spirit might, perhaps, be lost through slurring over its first origin.

Etymologists differ much as to the most correct derivation and consequent spelling of the word "Steeple-chase," though all seem to agree that the present is a corruption of some other arrangement of compound words. Thus, some suppose it to have originated in the county of Surrey, where even the very mole-hills are "breathers," and every pebble a large flint; from which supposititious data they deduce "steep-hill," whence the present "steeple-chase." Others have respectively suggested "step-all," "stop-all," "step ill," or "stop-ill," as the probable originals. An Irish "commontatur" has asserted that it would be rightly written "staple-chase," because this was originally the "staple" sport in Ireland, by which they tried their celebrated jumpers. Others again, doubtlessly influenced in their opinions by dearly bought experience, have variously decided it to be corrupted from "steep-pull," "steed-pull," and "steed-pill." A more homely disputant, deriving it from the malpractices of sporting "grooms," grooms," and larking "boys;" and, at the same time, making a most sweeping change in the orthography, reduces it to "stable-chase," whilst the last, though not by any means the least ingenious derivata given, declare it to have been abbreviated from " cit-ape-all," or (as would seem more likely), "cit-appall-chace." Happy am I however, in that I have the means of setting all to rights, by proving all quite wrong; and enlightening on this interesting subject the minds of all who will peruse the following correct and full particulars, of the earliest recorded" steeple-chase."

That "barrack society" sometimes falls far short of the gaiety and light-heartedness, naturally to be expected from the effervescent nature of the spirits of which it is composed, the most careless observer might readily have seen on a certain evening in the month of December, one thousand eight hundred and three; when the mess room of the cavalry officers, then in winter quarters at Ipswich, presented a picture of most undeniable dulness. The last new witticism (four days old), had been repeated twice, without a shadow of a smile, or an echo of a laugh. The approaching Christmas county-ball seemed to afford no topic of anticipation: and even the presence of a visitor, a brother officer of the artillery, failed to arouse them from their drowsy apathy.

"Come, Subden," yawned Lieutenant Lounger, to a young "sub," who sat opposite to him, slowly sipping his wine with his eyes shut ; "say something funny-do, there's a good fellow, Captain Cannonball is going to sleep."

"I shall not say anything funny," replied Subden; "you have not any of you laughed at my last joke yet: and that was a good twenty minutes ago."

"Then I shall plead the statute of limitations," interposed Major Medley, "I am not going to waste my shot when the game is out of range. Simpson's snoring."

"A base insinuation," replied Captain Simpson, "I am very melancholy Harry Hansum has killed Timms's cat."

"Killed Timms's cat!" exclaimed they altogether.

“Quite accidental, I assure you, gentlemen," pleaded the accused : "handled my pistols badly-aimed at her tail-hit her head-very sorry quite unintentional."

"There is an end of all my fun," moaned the Major; "that cat has been my only practising mark for the last three months."

"I had just got my hand into hitting her," echoed the Lieutenant. "And I had touched the wall twice within an inch of her body," added Subden.

"Gentlemen," said Harry, with a grave solemnity, "I am prepared to make the amende honorable.' Let us drink a bumper to the memory of Timms's cat."

And having drank the toast in silence, they relapsed into wholesome meditation.

This state of quietude, however, could not last long, and soon the whole party adjourned, with the officer on duty, from the dining-room to the stables.

"How is that grey screw which you bought last week of old San. Chouser, Harry ?" asked the Major.

"Fresh as new milk, Major," answered Hansum. old one-eyed, broken-kneed brute of a troop-horse?" "Troop-horse, Harry! don't be so sacrilegious. hunter in all Suffolk."

"How is your

He is the best

"Legs as big as my body—and bowed like a new moon," insinuated Hansum.

"Fine as silk-and firm as a new mast," replied Medley. "One eye out, and his tail in a sling," continued the Captain. "That one working on both sides of his head though," retorted

the Major; "and as for his crupper, I dare say you see that much oftener than his martingal."

"You dare not take either of them off, for fear he should tumble down."

day."

'Harry, you are a braggart, and I will take it out of you some shall run any horse

Pooh, Major," answered Hansum, "my grey

in the regiment, four miles a cross country, for a pony." "Done! done! done!" cried all in chorus: "Where? how? when?"

"Four miles and a half, under the saddle, from here to Nacton Church; now!" was the ready reply,

"Now?" echoed his companions.

"Yes, now; when shall we find a better opportunity? a moonlight night, in open weather-and the country clear-who will have the match ?"

"I-II-I," and away they all went to make instant preparation. "Major," cried Subden, whilst the grinning grooms were getting their horses ready for this novel race; "I fancy that we should look interesting, if we all wore clean night shirts over our uniforms, with cotton night-caps on our heads; what do you think?"

"A most original expedient," replied the Major, "whereby, we shall not only see each other better; but also ourselves remain unknown to vulgar eyes, if any such behold us."

The question was forthwith proposed and carried by acclamation. Oh! for a pencil, practised to present before the eye that which the pen must fail in such a case to give ;-the moon-lit gathering of these midnight Nimrods in the watering place behind the barracks. In the centre stood the grey champion, ridden by the challenger, armed " cap-à-pie," in strict accordance with the prescribed array of "night-shirt overall"-his servant taking up another link in the curbchain; whilst the Major, standing beside his black "old trooper," returned him full rations of his raillery. Lieutenant Lounger's nag appeared to be gazing in wonder at the many shadows thrown by the grass-blades waving in the moonlight; and, in an opposite direction, the white top-knot of young Subden's night-cap might just be seen peeping above his saddle-bow, as, with one foot already in the stirrup, he stood prepared to mount. Captains Cannonball and Simpson, together with two other right "good men, and true," made up a complement of eight, and a strong body of the troopers gathered in the background, completed a most novel and amusing scene, well worthy of a record in the pictorial annals of the chase.

Whoop hoh! and away they went! all off at score, making strong running for the lead. Anybody's race, and all lying well together for the first burst. But the large field near Biles's corner shook up the bag of luck, and brought some into difficulties-Subden was here the first over the fence, a sturdy wattle, with a double fosse : but his lot was not cast with a "white" bean, for horse and rider turned a summerset together, and rolled incontinently into one dirty ditch; whilst Major Medley stood upon the fence, and flung his shirttail to the wind, as he tugged at the "old trooper," who was stuck fast in the other. Lounger was the first safely landed-next to him,

Hansum on the grey-then Cannonball on a hot bay, whose head and tail were always stuck up high in mid-air;—and lastly, Simpson and two others, who still lived in this "most goodly company."

With many ups and downs-quick changes-and queer chances, the distance was soon accomplished up to Nacton Heath. But the last fence and field presented a most vivid picture of the varied features of this moonlight "flit." Cannonball, on his "gunpowder" horse, challenging the Champion to a struggle for the lead;-they charged the last fence together, and while "the great gun" jumped smash through the middle of the gate, the grey, still hand in hand, stepped neatly over the strong hurdle fence and bank, by a jump on and off. Subden came

third-then Lounger's horse, kicking his heels up at his master, and careless of his woeful cries-Simpson was making a good line of his own across the field; and two, dismounted in the distance, were exercising alike their patience, ingenuity, and powers of persuasion, in the subjection of their refractory steeds.

The finish was as equivocally satisfactory as all such matches have been ever since, up to the present day. To Nacton Church five of them came, Cannonball (the visitor), shewing them all the wayby which arrangement Hansum, who arrived second, still kept the grey up as the champion of his regiment. The Major had not yet got out of the deep ditch at Biles's corner, and history has forgot to add whether he ever eventually did so or not. Subden had covered, but never recovered his ground from his first fall. Lounger had lost his horse, and all the others would most certainly have won, if something had not happened to prevent them.

Yah! yah! yah! screaming and whooping like devil-rid maniacs, they clattered through the quiet village; Cannonball first; Lounger next:-on one side of him, Simpson, on the other, Hansum and the grey, who still proved himself at the top of the tree in timberleaping, by taking a fallen elm in his stride. Subden brought up the rear, with shrill and echoing shrieks which brought the villagers affrighted from their beds; half dreaming, half awake; so that they scarce believed their startled senses as they gazed on the strange vision of the passing troop. And even to this day some good-wives will repeat, with many a holy hope, and charitable fear, the well-known Legend of "the Phantom Riders of Nacton."

"On the breath of the blast,

They are come,-they are past,—

Beating the ground,

With a dead, dull sound,

As they speed on their midnight errand so fast:

The steam of their steeds,

Like a mist of the meads,

Veiled the moon in a curtain of cloud;

And the stars so bright,

Shuddered in light,

As the unhallowed troop, in their shadowy shroud,

Galloping, whooping, and yelling aloud,

Fast, and unfailing, and furious in flight,

Rattled on like the hail-storm, and vanished in night."

SIDNEY COOPER.