THE RACING SEASON, 18;J8. 1 -^1 



splendid race ; and the crack North country favourite of 

 last year, Melbourne, won his race in a canter. By the 

 lamented death of the Duke of Leeds, York Races lost a 

 patron of the first class, and, indeed, the vacuum caused 

 by the noble Duke's death in the North will not be easily 

 filled up. 



The grand emporium of the year in the racing world, 

 was the Epsom Races. Passing over the Tuesday as a day 

 of no consequence, we come at once to the Derby. Few 

 events could exceed the excitement in the rinof on the 

 eventful morning. To some the declaration of Lord 

 George Bentinck's that he meant " to win with Grey Mo- 

 mus if he could,''' had an effect something like being struck 

 with lightning. Hundreds had wrapped up their fates in 

 D'Egville, and until the declaration was publicly made, felt 

 peisuaded that he was the horse. The admirers of Phoenix 

 stuck to him to the last, despite the opinions of some good 

 judges, as to his condition, and the state of the course. 

 Cobham maintained his place in the odds until the Grey 

 was " declared to win," and then he receded scarcely a 

 point. Ion rose in the estimation of the public immediately 

 upon his making his appearance, and several engagements 

 were entered into at odds as low as 10 to 1, the ring having 

 broken up leaving him at 13 to 1. The race was run to 

 suit Grey Momus (and, as it chanced, Amato), in fact 

 " honest John" knew his only chance was to take the lead 

 and keep it if possible. We think that it was the quickest 

 thing ever run over the Derby course, and this verified John 

 Day's observation to a brother jock, in the Warren : " You 

 will see the Derby run for in less time than ever you did 'if 

 I am heatenT The hill and the pace choked off the weedy- 

 speedy ones instanter, and it was only the stout and honest 

 runners that persevered to the end. It was a singularly 

 true run race, as subsequent running sufficiently proved. 



