ANGRAM'S LAST JUMP 183 



did the Jack Spraggon report, and it will doubtless be printed 

 just as it is written. The Cardinal (late Angram) was by Pontifex 

 (brother of Surplice) out of a mare with many crosses of blood. 

 He was bred by the late John Coates, of Angram Hall, near 

 Coxwold, and as a five-year-old was ridden to hounds several 

 times by my sister. He was only six when his fatal accident in 

 the Christ Church " grind " occurred, and from the form he had 

 shown and was then showing it is practically certain that he had 

 the makings of a very great horse indeed. Mr Newton does not 

 remember who won that last race, but I do very well. It was 

 Merlin, and a good one he was. From where I was, on a hack, 

 in the winning field, you could not see the last fence but one, or 

 about fifty yards on either side of it. I watched our horse go 

 out of sight, striding away with a long lead, and then waited for 

 him to reappear, but he never did, and at last there came Merlin, 

 who had been going second, and then, of course, I knew, and rode 

 off post haste to the fatal spot, where was Lindsay Smith standing 

 by his horse and the usual gaping crowd around him. A vet 

 turned up and soon diagnosed a broken back, so that ended it. 



Of Merlin it may be remembered that he ran third to 

 Reugny and Chimney Sweep, for the Grand National of 

 1874, Defence being fourth, with Disturbance, Congress 

 and Casse Tete unplaced. 



I even wrote a book called Angram, or Hidden Talent, 

 as Mr Newton states, and it ends thus : 



Almost all the facts of this narrative are literally true, and will 

 be well remembered by many of the actors in the scenes described. 

 The name of the Cardinal will long be spoken of with admiration 

 and regret, even as the poet who launched out into verse on his 

 untimely end, concluded : 



And let me give him still his due, 

 Now he has broken life's short tether ; 

 A better horse I seldom knew, 

 A kinder ne'er was lapped in leather. 



It was certainly a very grievous downfall to our bright 

 hopes, and in the despondency of the next week or two 

 we felt more than half inclined to read seriously for 

 Mods., but that feeling passed very soon. 



Follies of the old irresponsible sort once more became 



