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A c.o.c.k sometimes took a long time to recover from his wounds--as, indeed, may be well supposed from the terrible 'punishment' which he necessarily received; and so our professor goes on to say:--'If after you have put out your wounded c.o.c.k to their walks, and visiting them a month or two after, you find about their head any swollen bunches, hard and blackish at one end, you may then conclude that in such bunches there are unsound cores, which must be opened and crushed out with your thumbs; and after this, you must suck out the corruption, and filling the holes full of fresh b.u.t.ter, you need not doubt a cure.'
A poetical description of a c.o.c.k-fight, by Dr R. Wild, written at the commencement of the last century, will give an idea of the 'diversion.'
'No sooner were the doubtful people set, The match made up, and all that would had bet, But straight the skilful judges of the play; Brought forth their sharp-heel'd warriors, and they Were both in linnen bags--as if 'twere meet, Before they died, to have their winding-sheet.
Into the pit they're brought, and being there, Upon the stage, the Norfolk Chanticleer Looks stoutly at his ne'er before seen foe, And like a challenger began to crow, And clap his wings, as if he would display His warlike colours, which were black and grey.
'Meantime, the wary Wisbich walks and breathes His active body, and in fury wreathes His comely crest, and often with a sound, He whets his angry beak upon the ground.
This done, they meet, not like that coward breed Of Aesop; these can better fight than feed: They scorn the dunghill; 'tis their only prize TO DIG FOR PEARLS WITHIN EACH OTHER'S EYES.
'They fought so nimbly that 'twas hard to know, E'en to the skill'd, whether they fought or no; If that the blood which dyed the fatal floor Had not borne witness of 't. Yet fought they more; As if each wound were but a spur to p.r.i.c.k Their fury forward. Lightning's not more quick, Or red, than were their eyes: 'twas hard to know Whether 'twas blood or anger made them so.
I'm sure they had been out had they not stood More safe by being fenced in with blood.
Thus they vied blows; but yet (alas!) at length, Altho' their courage was full tried, their strength And blood began to ebb.
Their wings, which lately at each blow they clapp'd (As if they did applaud themselves), now flapp'd.
And having lost th' advantage of the heel, Drunk with each other's blood, they only reel.
From either eyes such drops of blood did fall As if they wept them for their funeral.
And yet they fain would fight; they came so near, Methought they meant into each other's ear TO WHISPER WOUNDS; and when they could not rise, They lay and look'd blows into each other's eyes.
But now the tragic part! After this fit, When Norfolk c.o.c.k had got the best of it, And Wisbich lay a dying, so that none, Tho' sober, but might venture Seven to One; Contracting, like a dying taper, all His strength, intending with the blow to fall, He struggles up, and having taken wind, Ventures a blow, and strikes the other blind!
'And now poor Norfolk, having lost his eyes, Fights only guided by antipathies: With him, alas! the proverb holds not true-- The blows his eyes ne'er saw his heart most rue.
At length, by chance, he stumbled on his foe, Not having any power to strike a blow.
He falls upon him with his wounded head, And makes his conqueror's wings his feather-bed; Where lying sick, his friends were very chary Of him, and fetch'd in haste a Pothecary; But all in vain! His body did so blister That 'twas incapable of any glyster; Wherefore, at length, opening his fainting bill, He call'd a scriv'ner and thus made his Will.
'IMPRIMIS--Let it never be forgot, My body freely I bequeath to th' pot, Decently to be boil'd.
ITEM: Executors I will have none But he that on my side laid Seven to One; And, like a gentleman that he may live, To him, and to his heirs, my COMB I give, Together with my brains, that all may know That oftentimes his brains did use to crow.
To him that 's dull I do my SPURS impart, And to the coward I bequeath my HEART.
To ladies that are light, it is my will My FEATHERS shall be given; and for my BILL I'd give 't a tailor, but it is so short, That I'm afraid he'll rather curse me for 't: ****
Lastly, because I feel my life decay, I yield and give to Wisbich c.o.c.k THE DAY!'(70)
(70) The pa.s.sages left out in the Will, as marked by asterisks, though witty, are rather too gross for modern eyes.
To quote from Pegge once more:--What aggravates the reproach and disgrace upon us Englishmen, are those species of fighting which are called--"the battle royal and the Welsh main"--known nowhere in the world, as I think, but here; neither in China, nor in Persia, nor in Malacca, nor among the savage tribes of America. These are scenes so b.l.o.o.d.y as almost to be too shocking to relate; and yet as many may not be acquainted with the horrible nature of them, it may be proper, for the excitement of our aversion and detestation, to describe them in a few words.
'In the battle royal, an unlimited number of fowls are pitted; and after they have slaughtered one another, for the diversion (dii boni!) of the otherwise generous and humane Englishman, the single surviving bird is to be esteemed the victor, and carries away the prize. The Welsh main consists, we will suppose, of sixteen pairs of c.o.c.ks; of these the sixteen conquerors are pitted a second time; and, lastly, the two conquerors of these are pitted a fifth time; so that (incredible barbarity!) thirty-one c.o.c.ks are sure to be most inhumanly murdered for the sport and pleasure, the noise and nonsense, nay, I may say the profane cursing and swearing, of those who have the effrontery to call themselves, with all these b.l.o.o.d.y doings, and with all this impiety about them--Christians!' Moreover, this ungenerous diversion was the bane and destruction of thousands, who thus dissipated their patrimonial fortunes. That its attractions were irresistible is evident from the difficulty experienced in suppressing the practice. Down to a very recent date c.o.c.k-fighting was carried on in secret,--the police now and then breaking into the secret pits, dispersing and chasing a motley crew of n.o.blemen, gentlemen, and 'the sc.u.m of rascaldom.'
The practice is very far from having died out; mains are still fought in various parts of the country; but of course the greatest precautions are taken to insure secrecy and to prevent the interference of the police.
In connection with c.o.c.k-fighting I remember a horrible incident that occurred in the West Indies. A gentleman who was pa.s.sionately fond of the sport, and prided himself on the victories of his c.o.c.ks, had the misfortune to see one of his birds so terribly wounded in the first onset that, although not killed, it was impossible for it to continue the fight. His rage at the mishap knew no bounds, and he vented it madly on the poor creature. He roasted it alive--standing by and hearing its piteous cries. In the midst of the horrible torture the wretched man became so excited that a fit of apoplexy supervened, and he positively expired before the poor bird at the fire!
CHAPTER XII. THE TURF, HISTORICAL, SOCIAL, MORAL.
It appears that horse-races were customary at public festivals even as early as the times of the patriarchs. They originated among the eastern nations, who were the first to discover the physical apt.i.tudes of the n.o.ble animal and the spirited emulation of which he is capable. The Persians, the Greeks, the Romans, in succession, all indulged in the excitement; and it is a curious fact that the Romans, like the English jockeys of the present day, rode in different colours.
Horse-racing began very early in England. Fitz-Stephen, who wrote in the time of Henry VIII., mentions the delight taken by the citizens of London in the diversion. In the reign of Queen Elizabeth it appears to have greatly flourished, and to have been carried to such an excess as to have ruined many of the n.o.bility.
The celebrated George, Earl of c.u.mberland, is said to have wasted more of his estates than any of his ancestors, and princ.i.p.ally by his love of the turf and the tilt-yard. In the reign of James I., Croydon in the South, and Garterly in the North, were celebrated courses. Camden also states that in 1607 there were meetings near York, and the prize was a small golden bell; hence the origin of the saying 'bearing off the bell.'
Lord Herbert of Cherbury denounced the practice. 'The exercise,'
says this gallant philosopher, 'I do not approve of is running of horses--there being much CHEATING in that kind,--neither do I see why a brave man should delight in a creature whose chief use is to help him to run away.' As far as the cheating is concerned, the philosopher may be right, but most a.s.suredly his views of the horse do no credit to his Lordship's understanding.
It appears that the turf-men of those days went on breeding for shape and speed alone, without considering 'bottom,' until the reign of Queen Anne; when a public-spirited n.o.bleman left thirteen plates or purses to be run for, at such places as the Crown should appoint, upon condition that every horse should carry twelve stone for the best of three heats--four miles. By this means a stronger horse was raised, who, if he was not good enough upon the race-course, made a hunter.
The Merry Monarch, Charles II., had given cups or bowls, estimated at one hundred guineas value, and upon which the names of the winning horses, the winner, and jockey were usually engraved. William III. added to the plates, as did Queen Anne; but in 1720 George I. discontinued this royal encouragement to the sport, apparently through sheer meanness. Since that period 'King's Plates' and 'Queen's Plates' have been paid in specie.
In the reign of Charles I. races were performed in Hyde Park; and until a very recent period 'the Ring' in the Park was the rendezvous of gentlemen's servants, for the purpose of betting or making up their betting books.
Newmarket races were established by Charles II., in 1667. Epsom, by Mr Parkhurst, in 1711. Ascot, by the Duke of c.u.mberland, uncle to George III. Doncaster, by Colonel St Leger, in 1778. Goodwood, by the Duke of Richmond, who died in 1806.
The Jockey Club began in the time of George II. Its latest rules, by which races are regulated, were enacted in 1828.
Tattersall's, the 'High Change of Horse-flesh,' was established by Richard Tattersall, near Hyde Park Corner--hence termed 'The Corner'--in 1766, for the sale of horses. The lease of the ground having expired, the new premises at Brompton were erected, and opened for business, in 1803.
On the accession of Queen Victoria the Royal stud was sold for L16,476, in Oct., 1837.(71)
(71) Haydon, Book of Dates.
Among the distinguished men who have supported the turf in this country may be mentioned George IV.(72) and William IV.; the late Duke of York; the Dukes of Richmond, Cleveland, Grafton, Bedford, and Beaufort; Marquises of Exeter and Westminster; Earls of Glasgow, Stradbrooke, Wilton, Chesterfield, Eglintoun, Verulam, and Lonsdale; Lords George Bentinck, Foley, Kinnaird, &c.; and last, though not least, the Right Honourable Charles James Fox. As to the turf, Fox used always to animadvert on his losses, and repeatedly observed--that 'his horses had as much bottom as other people's, but that they were such slow, good ones that they never went fast enough to tire themselves.' He had, however, the gratification of experiencing some few exceptions to this imaginary rule. In April, 1772, he was so lucky at Newmarket as to win nearly L16,000--the greater part of which he got by betting against the celebrated Pincher, who lost the match by only half a neck. The odds at STARTING were two to one on the losing horse. At the spring meeting at Newmarket, in 1789, Fox is said to have won not less than L50,000; and at the October meeting, at the same place, the following year, he sold two of his horses--Seagull and Chanticleer--for 4400 guineas. In the course of 1788 Fox and the Duke of Bedford won 8000 guineas between them at the Newmarket spring meeting, and during these races Fox and Lord Barrymore had a heavy match, which was given as a dead heat, and the bets were off.
(72) For some period previous to 1790, George IV. had patronized horse-racing and pugilism; but in that year, having attended a prize fight in which one of the boxers was killed, he ceased to support the ring, declaring that he would never be present at such a scene of murder again; and in 1791 he disposed of his stud, on account of some apparently groundless suspicion being attached to his conduct with regard to a race, in the event of which he had little or no real interest.
On coming into office with Lord North, in 1783, Mr Fox sold his horses, and erased his name from several of the clubs of which he was a member.
It was not long, however, before he again purchased a stud, and in October he attended the Newmarket meeting. The king's messenger was obliged to appear on the course, to seek one of the ministers of England among the sportsmen on the heath, in order to deliver despatches upon which perhaps the fate of the country might have depended. The messenger on these occasions had his badge of office, the greyhound, not liking that the world should know that the king's adviser was amusing himself at Newmarket, when he should have been serving him in the metropolis.
But Charles Fox preferred the betting rooms to Downing Street.
Again, in the year 1790, his horse Seagull won the Oatlands stakes at Ascot, of 100 guineas (19 subscribers), beating the Prince of Wales's Escape, Serpent, and several of the very best horses of that year--to the great mortification of His Royal Highness, who immediately matched Magpie against him, to run four days afterwards, two miles, for 500 guineas. This match, on which immense sums were depending, was won with ease by Seagull. At this period Lord Foley and Mr Fox were confederates.
In those days the plates averaged from L50 to L100.
Lord Foley, who died in 1793, entered upon the turf with a clear estate of L1800 a year, and L100,000 ready money, which was considerably diminished by his losses at Newmarket, Ascot, and Epsom.
The race-horse of this country excels those of the whole world, not only for speed, but bottom. There is a great difference, however, between the present race and that of fifty or sixty years ago; for in those days four-mile heats were the fashion. The sporting records at the end of the last century give the following exploits of horses of that and previous periods.
Childers, known by the name of Flying Childers, the property of the Duke of Devonshire, was looked upon as the fleetest horse that ever was bred.
He was never beaten; the sire of this celebrated horse was an Arabian.
Dorimont, belonging to Lord Ossory, won prizes to the amount of L13,360.
Eclipse was allowed to be the fastest horse that ever ran in England since the time of Childers. After winning largely for his owner, he covered, by subscription, forty mares at 30 guineas each, or 1200 guineas.