George Morland 



animal ; by that means he exhausted himself, and I soon had the 

 mortification to see them come galloping past me, hissing and 

 laughing, while I was spurring his guts out." 



It seemed no laughing matter, however, to those who had placed 

 their money on the poor beast, and the rage of the crowd became 

 very threatening. 



"A mob of horsemen," continued Morland in his letter, "then 

 gathered round, telling me I could not ride, which is always the way 

 if you lose the heat ; they began at last to use their whips, and, 

 finding I could not get away, I directly pulled off my jacket and laid 

 hold of the bridle, and offered battle to the man who began first, 

 though he was big enough to eat me ; several gentlemen rode in, 

 and all the mob turned over to me, and I was led away in triumph 

 with shouts." 



On another occasion, when he played the jockey again at 

 Margate, he rode so furiously that when he came to the winning-post 

 the other riders were nearly half a mile behind. Again, this did not 

 please those who had backed other horses, and it is a commentary 

 on the manners of the turf in the eighteenth century to find that 

 the winner of the race was nearly killed by a crowd of sailors, 

 smugglers, and policemen, who set on him with sticks, stones, 

 wagoners' whips, and fisticuffs, and nearly killed him. Finally, " a 

 party of my horsemen, and several gentlemen and their servants, 

 some postboys, hairdressers, bakers, and several other people I 

 knew, armed themselves with sticks, etc., ran in to my assistance, 

 and brought me a horse, though the mob pressed so hard it was 

 long before I could mount." 



When the season was over at Margate, Mrs. Hill, who still 

 " protected" him (though it appears from his letters that he had little 

 love for her, and no gratitude), carried the riotous young artist to 

 France. Upon leaving Margate, his popularity was proved by the 

 many valuable presents and tokens of affection he received from 

 his many acquaintances. 



At Calais, and afterwards at St. Omer, where he stayed with 

 Mrs. Hill, he was handsomely welcomed by French and English 

 families of distinction, who seemed to have already heard of his 

 genius. Commissions for portraits were pressed upon him " by many 



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