102 The Book of the Horse, 



of al!) certain enormous quadrupeds, only seen to perfection in our native isle, led about by 

 dapper grooms, their manes ribboned, and their tails curiously clubbed and balled. ' Ha, ha ! 

 — how distinctly do they say, ' Ha, ha ! ' An old man draws nigh. He is mounted on a lean 

 pony, and he leads by the bridle one of these animals ; nothing very remarkable about that 

 creature, unless in being smaller than the rest, and gentle, which they are not ; he is almost 

 dun, and over one eye a thick film has gathered. But, stay; there is something remarkable 

 about that horse ; there is something in his action in which he differs from all the rest. As he 

 advances the clamour is hushed, all eyes are turned upon him. What looks of interest — of 

 respect ! And what is this ? People are taking off their hats ; surely, not to that steed t Yes, 

 verily, men, especially old men, are taking off their hats to that one-eyed steed ; and I hear 

 more than one deep-drawn ' Ah ! ' ' What horse is that t ' I said to a very old fellow, the 

 counterpart of the old man on the pony, save that the last wore a faded suit of velveteen, 

 and this one was dressed in a white frock. 'The best in mother England,' said the very old 

 man, taking a knobbed stick from his mouth, and looking me in the face, at first carelessly, but 

 presently with something like interest. ' He is old, like myself, but can still trot his twenty 

 miles an hour. You won't live long, my swain — tall and overgrown ones like thee never does — - 

 yet if you should chance to reach my years, you may boast to thy great-grand-boys thou hast 

 seen Marshland Shales.' I did for the horse what I would neither do for carl or baron — doffed 

 my hat ; yes, I doffed my hat to the wondrous horse, the fast trotter, the best in mother 

 England. And I, too, drew a deep ' Ah !' and repeated the words of the old fellows around : 

 ' Such a horse as this we shall never see again ; a pity that he is so old ! ' " 



Mr. Euren, of the Norivich Mercury, in the course of his investigations of the pedigrees 

 of Norfolk trotters, has recently traced the pedigree of Marshland Shales up to Eclipse. 



Market Weighton, in Yorkshire, was formerly celebrated for its trotters, but they seem to 

 have come originally from Lincolnshire or Norfolk, or both, as they bear the familiar names 

 of Performers, Merrylegs, Roan Phcnomenons, Norfolk Phenomenons, Prickwillows, Fireaways — 

 all names found on the cards of Norfolk sires. 



The type of a Norfolk trotter is not over 15 hands 2 inches high, made like a refined 

 edition of a Suffolk Punch or Clydesdale cart-horse, with extravagant action, which varies from 

 the rate of fourteen miles to seventeen miles an hour for short distances. Their weight renders 

 long distances at a great pace on hard roads impossible. Silver and red roan are favourite 

 and hereditary colours. There are also bays, browns, and chestnuts, which are more valued 

 by foreign purchasers if entirely without white. The prejudice against white marks in a 

 chestnut or bay trotter sire is curious, because in thoroughbred horses, and even in Arabs, 

 white marks are common, and neither as a rule transmit their colours like a pedigree bull, 

 Shorthorn, or Alderney. Trotters are not a distinct breed at all, but the result of judicious 

 crosses and careful selection, maintained by alternate crosses on the cart or the blood side, as 

 occasion required. They are used with very well-bred not quite thoroughbred mares, when 

 more strength is required than is often found in the thoroughbred stallions that cover at a 

 farmer's price, and especially when harness-action is an object. Lord Calthorpe's celebrated 

 hack, Don Carlos, which is the subject of a coloured illustration of this chapter, was the pro- 

 duce of a Norfolk sire and a well-bred pony. The following is an extract from a letter 

 addressed to the writer by a well-known Suffolk exhibitor and prize-winner with both trotting 

 and thoroughbred sires : — 



" I feel sure that the counties of York and Norfolk imported the first roadsters from 

 Lincolnshire. The old roadster is reviving again in favour with our breeders; thanks to a very 



