SIR TATTON SYKES. 85 



manner ; after which, bruised and bleeding, the two hulking bullies 

 slunk away like whipped curs. His face was a singularly pleasing 

 one — frank, open, honest, handsome. He was extremely plain in 

 his dress, and was seldom seen without top boots and drab kersey- 

 mere breeches. No one in his day could equal him in the saddle 

 across country, and he invariably headed the field with his own 

 hounds, which he hunted without subscription for years. His 

 exploits as a jockey were numerous. He won his maiden race in 

 " the orange body, blue sleeves and cap " of Sledmere, on his 

 brother Mark's Sir Pertinax, at Beverley. Sir Tatton had on 

 that occasion to ride 13st., but eleven was his regular racing 

 weight, and he scaled ten-and-a-half over Morpeth at a pinch. No 

 one ever loved a mount better, and he rode until he was upwards of 

 sixty for anyone who asked him, without a thought of fatigue 

 or distance. On one occasion, after riding sixty-three miles from 

 Sledmere that morning, he was second to 5lr. Lindlow in the four- 

 mile Macaroni Stakes at Pontefract, slejDt at Doncaster that night, 

 and was beaten in another four-mile heat race against " Splitpost 

 Douglas" at Lincoln next day. Another time, in 1817, he journeyed 

 from Sledmere to Aberdeen with his racing jacket under his waistcoat, 

 and a clean shirt and a razor in his pocket, for the sake of a mount 

 on the Marquis of Huntley's Kutosofif (in Sir Tatton's opinion the 

 best horse he ever mounted), when the Welter Stakes was the 

 greatest race in Scotland, and without stopping to dine, went back 

 to sleep that night at Brechin, eventually reaching Doncaster after 

 a six days' ride just in time to see Blacklock beaten for the St. 

 Leger. The 720 miles were done principally in the forenoon on 

 a little blood-mare, and, with the exception of a slight stiffness, 

 she seemed none the worse for the feat. Caller Ou's St. Leger in 

 1861 was the seventy-sixth Sir Tatton had seen, with only one break 

 from illness, in 1839, when Charles XII. and Euclid ran their 

 memorable dead-heat; and he lodged for forty years with a cow- 

 keeper in Sheffield Lane, who offered him a bed by accident when 

 he arrived late one night, and not another roosting-place was to be had 

 in the town, ^^^len his old huntsman, Tom Carter, died in 1854, 

 Sir Tatton ceased to ride to Doncaster ; but when Tom was at his 

 side, they used to meet at Pocklington, come through between four 

 and five, and sleep at Booth Ferry on the "Cup" evening. The 

 first of his rides to London was in 1805, when he sat for his portrait 

 to Sir Thomas Lawrence in the scarlet coat and black silk breeches, 

 &c., which formed the evening costume of the Castle Howard Hunt. 

 Sir Mark and Lady Sykes, who are also in the group, returned from 

 the easel to the north with him. It was Christmas week, and his 

 little blood-mare required " frosting " twice a day. The second ride, 

 three-and-forty years later, to Sir Francis Grant's studio was accom- 

 plished in June on his black horse, by Colwick, from Lord Chester- 

 field's grey mare. Mad Moll, which, with its rider, numbered 108 years, 

 when Sir Tatton was last on its back at the covert side. It is no doubt 



