THE DUKES OF GRAFTON. 31 



have dictated to his daughter as she sat pen in hand, ' The shadow 

 of him on the vail is vorth all the money I axes for him. He can 

 put up his feet and go and catch a bird.'" His brother, Whalebone, 

 on the other hand, was as shal^by to the eye as old Prunella herself. 

 He had rather a Turkish-pony look, and was broad and strong, with 

 a shortish neck. His own feet grew very pumiced, and his mares 

 lost their speed early. Unlike Whisker, it was on his sons he had 

 to rely, and Moses, Camel, Lapdog, Spaniel, Waverley, Sir Hercules 

 and Defence sufficiently proved his excellence as a sne. But both 

 sons of Waxy did rare service to the State in their time, and for that 

 reason, if for no other, the British turf has cause to be profoundly 

 and everlastingly grateful to the Dukes of Grafton. 



We may appropriately close our sketch of the fourth Duke of 

 Grafton with two anecdotes, which admirably illustrate his cha- 

 racter. It is told of him, that on one occasion, when out hunting, he 

 was thrown from his horse and fell into a ditch, at the same moment 

 a hard-riding young curate was taking the fence, and roaring out, 

 " Lie still, your grace, and I'll clear you I" leapt over the prostrate 

 nobleman, and, without looking back, galloped after the hounds. 

 Some of those who witnessed the incident were disposed to severely 

 censure the curate for his want of feeling. Not so the duke, for, on 

 being assisted to remount, he remarked, " That young man shall 

 have the first good living that falls to my disposal : had he stopped 

 to take care of me I would never have patronised him." His grace 

 was delighted with an ardour for sport similar to his own ; and, 

 perhaps, also with a spirit that would not stoop to flatter. It is 

 pleasant to know that the duke kept his resolution, and presented 

 the young clergyman to the first of the Grafton livings that fell 

 vacant. 



One more anecdote, and we have done. We have already alluded 

 to the duke's connection with old John Day; and, perhaps, the 

 greatest triumph the Hampshire patriarch ever had was winning the 

 Oaks on Oxygen for his good old master, the Duke of Grafton. 

 Every judge of riding who saw it vowed that John ought to have 

 been created Lord Danebury, in his "all scarlet," on the spot. His 

 fortunes were made when, in 1826, the duke, who was the first to 

 see what stuff he was made of, put him up, though but a mere raw 

 country lad in the opinion of the Newmarket connoisseurs, to ride 

 Dervise for the Two Thousand and Problem for the One Thousand. 

 Buckle was then in the height of his fame, and the young country 

 jockey thought that it was only hoping against hope to dream of 

 beating the favourite with that splendid horseman in the saddle. 

 " I saw Buckle," old John used to say, when telling the story in after 

 days, " preparing to go ; and it seemed as if something told me that 

 if I went first I should beat him. And I did — I got the first run 

 and I beat him. Then I won both races for his grace. He sent for 

 me, and I came to the door, with my hat in my hand. ' Come in, 

 John Day.' So I did, and I stood on the mat. ' John Day, I'm going 



