280 SPORTING STORIES 



He had medals on his breast, and amongst them the little 

 gun-metal cross which bears the simple inscription, " For 

 Valour." I got into conversation with the man, and found 

 that he was Sergeant Holwell, the hero of Lucknow, who 

 was acting as outside attendant at the shop. I had more 

 than one conversation with him afterwards, and then lost 

 sight of him. I believe he has been dead many years. 

 I wonder how many of the ladies whose carriage doors he 

 opened guessed what a valiant soldier was rendering them 

 his humble services. 



I was a constant attendant at the old Wimbledon 

 meetings, and have seen rifle-shooting make wonderful 

 strides since Edward Ross won the Queen's Prize with a 

 score of 24 out of a possible 30 at 800, 900, and 1000 yards. 

 But there were no centres at the long ranges in those days. 

 A bull's-eye counted two, and an outer one, so that to make 

 even an average of outers was no mean performance. The 

 most remarkable sight I ever saw at Wimbledon was the 

 shooting for the Queen's Prize in 1873. Sergeant Menzies, 

 of the ist Edinburgh, had made 65 ; Private Pullman, of a 

 Somerset corps, was only one point behind, and had three 

 shots to fire. He had only to hit the target once in three 

 shots, and the prize was his. Some rash friend acquainted 

 him with this fact. The excitement was too much for him ; 

 he missed every shot, and lost the coveted prize just when 

 it seemed within his grasp. But three years later Pullman, 

 then a sergeant in the 2nd Middlesex, wiped out the 

 memory of that failure by winning the blue riband of 

 Wimbledon in gallant style. 



Angus Cameron, of the 6th Inverness, a jeweller by trade, 

 was up to the year 1900 — when Ward of Devon, a coach- 

 builder, rivalled his great feat — 'the only man who had won 

 the Queen's Prize twice ; and each time he was credited with 

 a higher score than had previously been made in the com- 

 petition. But the remarkable point about this feat was 

 that between his first and second triumph he lost the 

 sight of his right eye, and had to shoot from the left 

 shoulder instead of the right as before. Subsequently, the 

 sight of the left eye became so defective that his shooting 

 days came to an untimely end. Cameron was a teetotaller, 



