70 MEMORIES OF THE SHIRES 



a man who does not make a business of steeple- 

 chasing, and who only sports silk occasionally to 

 ride in hunt races, to have placed his name on the 

 roll of those who have won the Grand National is a 

 great feat. 



Known to his own intimates as " Hoppy," Lord 

 Manners was an exceptionally quiet man, and 

 probably his greatest friends never credited him 

 with the ability to win over the Aintree course. I 

 do not suppose that a bad rider has ever won or 

 ever will win that race, but I never considered him 

 quite in the first class as a horseman, and rather 

 strange to say, though a very Hght weight his 

 " hands " were not good. 



I was not at Liverpool that year, but have had 

 the story told me many times. It was a pouring 

 wet day, and as every one knows in a steeplechase 

 under those conditions, a pair of woollen gloves are 

 almost a necessity to get a firm grip on slippery reins. 

 The owner and rider of Seaman had no thought of 

 this, but a friend had grasped the situation, and 

 insisted on lending a pair. This friend happened 

 to be well over six feet four, and the gloves must 

 have been many sizes too big, but they answered 

 the purpose, and doubtless were an important factor 

 in the ultimate success. 



Leicestershire is always strongly represented at 

 Liverpool, and Lord Manners' many hunting friends 

 were there to wish him luck, though I think very 

 few expected to see him win. Needless to say they 

 were very enthusiastic over the result, and showered 

 congratulations on the mud-bespattered hero. Every 

 one was both excited and elated. I was told the 

 only cool person there was the man who had come 



