n6 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK. 



His leg slightly giving way after the race, he hunted 

 him that same year. One day when he was riding 

 him, the hounds — the Tedworth (Mr. T. Assheton 

 Smith's) — met at Clatford Oakcuts, which was drawn 

 blank. They trotted off to Red Rice, Mr. Best's, 

 where a good fox was soon unkennelled, and made 

 the best of his way to Grately Gorse, skirting the 

 Marquis of Winchester's coverts on the right, scent 

 being breast-high. Still going at a rattling pace 

 under Quarley Hill, the line taken passed Cholderton 

 Lodge (where I last trained) to Wilbury Lodge, 

 where the hounds ran into him in front of the house, 

 Lord George being the first up, having charged the 

 park palings on his little thoroughbred, and got safely 

 over, and so set the field. 



We have heard, and have good reason for believing, 

 that Lord George Bentinck was proud of his birth, 

 his position, and his talents. Withal he showed 

 curious contrariety. For he associated with Gaily 

 and Hill, and even took up the cudgels for Crockford, 

 the itinerant fishmonger, against his own Newmarket 

 jockey in the Ratan affair. He even thought it not 

 below his dignity to parade in front of the stand on 

 the lawn at Goodwood, arm-in-arm with Johnny 

 O'Brien, as he was usually called, a foppish base 

 adventurer, the son of a washer- woman. It will be 

 conceded, I think, that few of the nobility of those 

 days, or of the present time, would have so far 

 demeaned themselves. As a rule, I think they show 



