94 THE TURF 



hue his neat white hat, white trousers, 

 white silk stockings, ay, and we may add, 

 his white, but handsome, face. There was 

 nothing black about him but his hair and 

 his mustachios, which he wore by virtue 

 of his commission, and which to him were 

 an ornament. The like of his style of 

 coming on the race-course at Newmarket 

 was never witnessed there before him, nor 

 since. He drove his barouche himself, 

 drawn by four beautiful white horses, with 

 two outriders on matches to them, ridden 

 in harness bridles. In his rear was a 

 saddle-horse groom, leading a thorough- 

 bred hack, and at the rubbing-post on the 

 heath was another groom all in crimson 

 liveries waiting with a second hack. But 

 we marvel when we think of his establish- 

 ment. We remember him with thirty-eight 

 race-horses in training; seventeen coach- 

 horses, twelve hunters in Leicestershire, 

 four chargers at Brighton, and not a few 

 hacks ! But the worst is yet to come. By 

 his racing speculations he was a gainer, 

 his judgment pulling him through ; but 

 when we had heard that he would play to 

 the extent of forty thousand pounds at a 



