128 SPORTING STORIES 



important point connected with next day's race. I met 

 him, and he said that, as such an enormous sum was 

 pending on the match, we ought to start with as few open- 

 ings for a wrangle as possible ; that in a flat-race cross- 

 ing or jostling was not allowed, but that to-morrow he 

 thought it would be best that we should do just as we 

 pleased. ' In short,' I replied, ' I understand that we may 

 ride over each other and kill each other if we can. Is it 

 so?' 'Just so,' was his Lordship's answer. Oddly enough, 

 the first jump was a five-barred gate. I lay with Clinker's 

 head about opposite to Douglas's knee. When within, 

 say, forty or fifty yards of the gate, I saw clearly that 

 Radical meant to refuse, and, recollecting last night's 

 bargain, I held Clinker well in hand. Radical, as I 

 expected, when close to the gate, turned right across 

 Clinker. I stuck the spurs in, knocked Douglas over the 

 gate, and sent Radical heels over head, and lying on this 

 side of it. Douglas did not lose his horse — his reins were 

 fastened to his wrist — and he was soon up again and mounted; 

 but it finished the match effectually. I turned round, 

 jumped the corner of the fence, and gained such a lead that 

 he never got near me again. I suppose in these days kill- 

 ing a man in that way would be brought in * Wilful Murder.' 

 Not so in 1826: the verdict would have been 'Justifiable 

 Homicide !" 



I remember, once, at Bromley Steeplechases seeing a 

 very dastardly outrage perpetrated on Charles Lawrence, 

 the cross-country jockey. He was struck in the face by a 

 brick flung by a rufiian, no doubt paid to do it, and was 

 felled like an ox. When Lawrence recovered conscious- 

 ness, he said bitterly, " He might have saved himself the 

 trouble. I was the worst of the four that started, and 

 could not have won anyhow, bar accidents." I am sorry 

 to say that the blackguard who flung the brick escaped, 

 and the outrage was never brought home to anyone. 



There were some queer scenes in the hunting-field years 

 ago, when the whip occasionally played the part I have 

 described it as playing in the hands of some old-time 

 jockeys. Dick Christian, the famous rough-rider, used to 

 tell a story of how he and Bill Wright got on bad terms 



