In the morning my master was up early, but he did not go to market, and it was quite nine o’clock when he harnessed me to the cart and drove round to the front door. There was a small knot of neighbours interested in our starting, and I found that a plumber and his wife were going with us. Two chairs were put into the back of the cart for the use of the ladies, and the men sat in front, with the two eldest Bunter children on the floor, making the party six in number. In addition to this was a bag of cut hay and corn for my consumption, and a large hamper of food and drink for the party.
I gathered from the conversation of the men that they were both fond of betting, and that Mr. King had received overnight a ‘tip,’ that is, information concerning a certain horse, which would enable him to make a large sum of money that day.
‘I am told that Melrose is sure to win,’ he whispered in a confidential tone to my master while they were waiting for 51the ladies. ‘Wigen wrote to me to put every penny I have upon it.’
‘I go with you,’ returned Benjamin Bunter. ‘I always thought there was something meant with Melrose. Now then, here is the missis; give her a hand, will you.’
Mr. King gallantly helped the ladies to their seats, then put the children in, and we started. A few idle boys gave us a cheer, the neighbours waved their hands, and then we went through the streets at a smart pace.
The load behind me was rather heavy, but I did not mind that, as there was, in addition to my curiosity being aroused, the prospect of a peep at the green fields and a few hours’ fresh air. In half an hour we had left the worst part of the bricks and mortar behind us, and were travelling among the neat suburban villas of prosperous tradesmen.
It was a bright fresh morning, and everything looked nice—villas, trees, flowers, everything, down to the butchers’ carts which we came upon now and then waiting at the garden gates of the houses. My party enjoyed everything; they were all in high spirits, and I have no doubt that Mrs. Bunter made the most of her bonnet, which was a far superior thing to the article worn by her friend Mrs. King. In spite of this, however, the ladies were excellent friends.
About eight miles from town we pulled up at a roadside inn, and my master fetched out a pot of beer. I felt this to be the first hitch in a promising day; not that I personally object to beer, for I do not know even the taste of it, but I have seen the effects of it upon man, and they are anything but pleasant. Never by any chance does it elevate or improve, and too often it ruins and degrades—and yet men will drink it. Here is something which I am sure man himself fails to comprehend.
Our halt was brief, and we went on through quiet lanes and broad, well-kept roads garnished with fragrant hedges and tall, graceful trees, sometimes passing and at other times being passed by other parties greater or smaller in number, and they all seemed to be in the highest possible spirits, shouting and laughing as if the world had nothing in it beyond going to the 52races, and they had left no sorrow or sin or shame in the great city behind them.
By-and-by we came upon a stupendous hill, and here a boy sitting upon a horse volunteered to help us up the hill for sixpence. Benjamin Bunter was in an excellent humour, and the offer was accepted; the horse was attached to the shafts of the cart, and we moved forward.
Now I do not wish to speak ill of any of my race, but I must out with the truth at all times—that helping horse was a disgrace to his fellows. He was as cunning as a fox, and made a deal of show, pretending to strain his muscles and spluttering his feet about, but he did not pull a bit. He was as bad as the boy upon his back, who shouted and pretended to urge him on, while he really encouraged him to hold back. I ventured to remonstrate in a whisper to my helper, but he only answered with a short contemptuous laugh, which I have no doubt Benjamin Bunter interpreted as a cough, and I had to do the work of the hill in reality alone. At the top my master paid the boy the sixpence, and the precious pair went back in search of other victims.
After a brief rest we proceeded, and presently came upon the downs where the races were held, and my master guided me past a long line of white booths, erected for refreshment and various purposes. In some I have been told men gamble and fight, but I have never seen such things, and I only pretend to give the results of my actual experience. There was one large wooden erection which Benjamin Bunter pointed out to his wife as the Grand Stand; it was empty then, but I saw it later filled with ladies and gentlemen most magnificently dressed.
We were very early, and my master secured a good place near the ropes, after paying ten shillings for the privilege. He and Mr. King then got down and went away, and Mrs. Bunter brought out a bottle full of rum. She had a sip, Mrs. King had a sip, and the children were induced to wet their lips with it. All this seemed to me to be very shocking, but there were many cartloads of people around doing much the same thing, and nobody cried out against it.
53Turning from Mrs. Bunter and her friend, I took a look at the scene around me. Like the great city, it defies description. Early as it was thousands had already assembled, and the air was full of shouts and laughter, and cries that some might have thought the outburst of joy; but I could detect a wail beneath it which told me that the joy was after all but a hollow thing. I was now old enough and had seen enough to read man at a glance, and as the thousands walked by I scanned their faces and read no real satisfaction there. They were hilarious it is true, but they lacked the contented expression which true happiness brings. But even the apparently happy were in the minority; the main part of this throng were eager, restless creatures, who walked quickly up and down, and talked in low whispers to their friends, or scanned little pocket-books with a forlorn look, as if they read their doom therein. ‘Knave and gamester’ were written in the looks of many—alas! too many—of the young as well as old. Every amusement presented by the itinerant took the gambling form—betting was the order of the day, from pence to pounds. Some held up purses and talked of large sums to be sold for a shilling, and the thoughtless, untutored novice in race-course ways bought them, to find themselves deceived, and to hear the laughter of those who find fun in a miserable lie. Wheels of fortune, spinning jennies, cards, dice, all were there, and vice, forgetting her shame, walked boldly in the sunlight.
Opposite, the big wooden stand and others on either side were filling, and a babel of voices rose from the shifting mass. This, I was told afterwards, was the noise of betting men, who risked their money—some all their wealth, honour, good name—on the race to come. Some of the noblest names in our land have been blackened in the betting ring. Some of the richest among the people have left their all upon the race-course, and gone home to shame and ruin. And yet men call racing ‘pleasure;’ but who can reason with them on the subject when they call pigeon-slaughter by the name of ‘sport’?
It was a strange motley scene, interesting in many points, but painful in most, for I could see that there was more folly than fun in everything around me; and folly, every thinking 54creature, horse and man, knows, is but the herald of ruin and shame.
I was musing on the scene when my thoughts were interrupted by a carriage which drew up beside me; it was open, and contained two young fellows barely arrived at the recognised age of manhood. Both were well dressed and in the highest possible spirits. I was immediately interested in them; but my attention was withdrawn by the horse in the brougham, who was in front of me—we stood in fact face to face.
There was a form a little more developed than I had hitherto known it, but quite familiar, from the tip of the well-shaped nose to the end of the ample tail. No need for that amused expression of face to guide me to a recognition; I knew him at once—it was my old friend Rip, and involuntarily I uttered a loud neigh of joyful surprise.
‘Hush! pray do,’ remonstrated Rip. ‘Don’t be so vulgar. You really astonish me with your want of breeding.’
‘I was overcome with joy,’ I apologised. ‘Oh, Rip! how often have I longed for such an hour as this!’
‘Dear old Blossom,’ said Rip affectionately, ‘it is just like you to think of your old friends. No one, looking at your quiet ways, would imagine that you had half the emotion in you; but your sort of emotion is like still water—it runs deep.’
‘But where have you been—and what sort of masters have you had?’ I asked.
‘I have had only one master since I knew you,’ replied Rip. ‘Squire Tracey bought me of Mr. Bayne, and I am with Squire Tracey still. I have brought his two eldest sons here to-day.’
‘From Upton?’ I exclaimed.
‘Stupid old Blossom,’ said Rip, with a good-natured smile in his eyes. ‘No, Upton is a deal too far away; we came from town this morning. We always spend the fashionable months in the great metropolis—West-end of course. I have never cast eyes upon the east side of Temple Bar.’
‘And they treat you well, Rip?’
‘Nobly—from the squire to the groom,’ replied Rip. ‘As for the groom, he is so kind to me that I positively love the fellow. He carries a whip as part of the furniture of a brougham, but I really cannot tell you if there is a lash upon it or not.’
‘I congratulate you upon your good fortune,’ I said, repressing a sigh. ‘My lot has not been so pleasant as I could wish, but I won’t complain.’
‘There never was such a horse as you to endure,’ returned Rip; ‘and yet it’s not from want of spirit; you have a tremendous deal of work in you, and you always did your duty nobly.’
‘It is only right to do so, Rip,’ I said, feeling rather foolish over this unmerited praise; and then at his request I gave him a brief outline of my life, and just as I concluded, Benjamin Bunter and his friend the plumber returned.
‘Melrose is first favourite,’ he said to his wife. ‘I have put the money in, and we are safe to win. The men who ought to know say he can’t lose;’ and the man’s face beamed as if the race was already over and he a winner.
‘Poor fool,’............