DOI Heft:
June 4, 1881
DOI Seite / Zitierlink: https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.17750#0260
Juke 4, 1881.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. 253
THE DERBY SKETCHED AND HEDGED.
The day was a glorious one—not too cold nor yet too
warm. Now would the sun emerge from the clouds and
flood all nature with a perfect bath of glory. Now the rain
would pour in torrents. Now the snow would fall lightly
upon thousands of ulsters and sealskins. And yet these
changes were so brightly blended that there were some who
did not see the sunshine, some who did not feel the rain,
some who did not notice the snow!
How to get to Epsom was the first thought of many a
Londoner on that ever-memorable Wednesday. Those who
liked leisurely progress went by road—those who preferred
speed betook themselves to the Railway Station.
It has been reported that many had to wait at the booking-
office at Waterloo Station several seconds before they could
secure a ticket. It has been also rumoured that, on more than
one occasion, the vehicles on the road had to walk slowly, on
account of the crowded appearance of the thoroughfare.
The incidents on the way down having been now fully
and exhaustively described, the aspect of the Course and its
surroundings claim attention. Something not unlike the
scene witnessed on Wednesday June the First had been gazed
upon before. This may appear a bold assertion when it is
remembered how unlike one Derby-Day is to another, and
yet such indeed was the fact. For instance, there were
several persons on the Grand Stand, and the Hill could not
be justly described as deserted. Here and there luncheon
was eaten on the top of a drag, and amongst the crowd were
recognised, now and again, a perambulating Ethiopian sere-
nader. Those who listened attentively, too, could hear dis-
tinctly the sound of voices.
But as it may be objected that the above remarks are almost
of a too general character, it may be as well to enter into
particulars. Nothing could have been more interesting than
the group collected on the Epsom Downs on Wednesday the
First of June. All the celebrities of the day, deserting the
Grand Stand and the drags, paraded by mutual consent on a
secluded portion of the Hill. Wishing as much as possible
to fall in with the desires of Sir Wilfrid Lawson, they
determined to treat the great race of the year with sovereign
contempt. Thus, when the finish was over as follows: —
1, The Winner; 2, The Derby Dog; 3, Policeman X; and
the remainder of the field nowhere, the most illustrious of
our Lords and Gentlemen were disporting themselves with
their backs turned to the Course in the most delightful man-
ner. It was at this the
supreme moment that Mr.
(7\ y Gladstone engaged in a
friendly contest with Sir
Stafford Northcote in
the exciting game of
" knock-'em-downs." The
Conservative Leader was supported by Sir John Astley and
Mr. W. H. Smith, while Mr. John Bright bravely took
odds about "the Striker." Mr. Chaplin, forgetting all
parliamentary animosities, generously officiated as stake-
holder. It was at this moment too that Lord Salisbury,
seeing Sir Stafford engaged "in another place," stealthily
invited a gipsy to tell him his fortune in his character of " a
pretty gentleman"—the Duke of Richmond, surnamed the
"Disappointed," regarding the group thus formed with
a feeling that it would take volumes to adequately ex-
press. Then Sir William Harcourt, always knowing
more about everything than anyone else, discovered the King
in the celebrated Card Trick to the admiration of all beholders.
Following the lead of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales and
Lord Alfred Paget, Lords Carrington and Rosebery
determined to have nothing to do with the race, and walked
away from the Downs as the horses passed the winning-post.
So splendid an act of self-denial was so greatly appreciated by
Sir Wilfrid Lawson, that the teetotal Baronet immediately
celebrated the event in a foaming glass of Zoedone, to the
languid astonishment of Mrs. Wheeler, Miss Ellen Terry,
and Mrs. Langtry, who evidently mistook the unvinous
but cheering beverage for genuine champagne. Then Mr.
Irving glanced at the race to see if he could obtain from it
fresh inspiration for the character of Othello ; while Cete-
wayo made a noted ^Esthete perfectly Wylde. Such was
the scene on the Hill, which might have been witnessed by
anyone—knowing where to find it!
But, after all, the Derby was the event of Wednesday the
First of June. It cannot but be felt that no account of this
remarkable twenty-four hours would be complete without
some report of the running.
Several of the horses appeared in the Paddock—nay, all
except those that were saddled at the starting-post. As the
papers have published a full list of the probable starters and
jockeys, it would be a waste of time, if not an evidence of
bad taste, to give the names of those that actually put in an
appearance. Such a catalogue would be invidious in the last
degree, and might lead to a great deal of disappointment.
Suffice it to say that all the horses that were intended to run
were brought before the starter several minutes before he
lowered his flag.
And here it would be well to stop, were it not that in an
ante-dated report it is more than usually interesting to spot
the winner. Well, then, they are off! They pass Tatten-
ham Corner! It is all over, and the race has been run in
more than a minute, and less than half an hour. There has
been a First, a Second, and a Third ! The name of the First
is the most important—and see, there is the Number on the
Board. Refer to your card, and all—yes, all—is, revealed
to you! aSsSc k '■' rA
^n i,Mi], i j. - , iimliifiiliiltU ..lO^^BM^^HHIi
mm
\\\
H3
9
70L. LXXX.
Z
THE DERBY SKETCHED AND HEDGED.
The day was a glorious one—not too cold nor yet too
warm. Now would the sun emerge from the clouds and
flood all nature with a perfect bath of glory. Now the rain
would pour in torrents. Now the snow would fall lightly
upon thousands of ulsters and sealskins. And yet these
changes were so brightly blended that there were some who
did not see the sunshine, some who did not feel the rain,
some who did not notice the snow!
How to get to Epsom was the first thought of many a
Londoner on that ever-memorable Wednesday. Those who
liked leisurely progress went by road—those who preferred
speed betook themselves to the Railway Station.
It has been reported that many had to wait at the booking-
office at Waterloo Station several seconds before they could
secure a ticket. It has been also rumoured that, on more than
one occasion, the vehicles on the road had to walk slowly, on
account of the crowded appearance of the thoroughfare.
The incidents on the way down having been now fully
and exhaustively described, the aspect of the Course and its
surroundings claim attention. Something not unlike the
scene witnessed on Wednesday June the First had been gazed
upon before. This may appear a bold assertion when it is
remembered how unlike one Derby-Day is to another, and
yet such indeed was the fact. For instance, there were
several persons on the Grand Stand, and the Hill could not
be justly described as deserted. Here and there luncheon
was eaten on the top of a drag, and amongst the crowd were
recognised, now and again, a perambulating Ethiopian sere-
nader. Those who listened attentively, too, could hear dis-
tinctly the sound of voices.
But as it may be objected that the above remarks are almost
of a too general character, it may be as well to enter into
particulars. Nothing could have been more interesting than
the group collected on the Epsom Downs on Wednesday the
First of June. All the celebrities of the day, deserting the
Grand Stand and the drags, paraded by mutual consent on a
secluded portion of the Hill. Wishing as much as possible
to fall in with the desires of Sir Wilfrid Lawson, they
determined to treat the great race of the year with sovereign
contempt. Thus, when the finish was over as follows: —
1, The Winner; 2, The Derby Dog; 3, Policeman X; and
the remainder of the field nowhere, the most illustrious of
our Lords and Gentlemen were disporting themselves with
their backs turned to the Course in the most delightful man-
ner. It was at this the
supreme moment that Mr.
(7\ y Gladstone engaged in a
friendly contest with Sir
Stafford Northcote in
the exciting game of
" knock-'em-downs." The
Conservative Leader was supported by Sir John Astley and
Mr. W. H. Smith, while Mr. John Bright bravely took
odds about "the Striker." Mr. Chaplin, forgetting all
parliamentary animosities, generously officiated as stake-
holder. It was at this moment too that Lord Salisbury,
seeing Sir Stafford engaged "in another place," stealthily
invited a gipsy to tell him his fortune in his character of " a
pretty gentleman"—the Duke of Richmond, surnamed the
"Disappointed," regarding the group thus formed with
a feeling that it would take volumes to adequately ex-
press. Then Sir William Harcourt, always knowing
more about everything than anyone else, discovered the King
in the celebrated Card Trick to the admiration of all beholders.
Following the lead of H.R.H. the Prince of Wales and
Lord Alfred Paget, Lords Carrington and Rosebery
determined to have nothing to do with the race, and walked
away from the Downs as the horses passed the winning-post.
So splendid an act of self-denial was so greatly appreciated by
Sir Wilfrid Lawson, that the teetotal Baronet immediately
celebrated the event in a foaming glass of Zoedone, to the
languid astonishment of Mrs. Wheeler, Miss Ellen Terry,
and Mrs. Langtry, who evidently mistook the unvinous
but cheering beverage for genuine champagne. Then Mr.
Irving glanced at the race to see if he could obtain from it
fresh inspiration for the character of Othello ; while Cete-
wayo made a noted ^Esthete perfectly Wylde. Such was
the scene on the Hill, which might have been witnessed by
anyone—knowing where to find it!
But, after all, the Derby was the event of Wednesday the
First of June. It cannot but be felt that no account of this
remarkable twenty-four hours would be complete without
some report of the running.
Several of the horses appeared in the Paddock—nay, all
except those that were saddled at the starting-post. As the
papers have published a full list of the probable starters and
jockeys, it would be a waste of time, if not an evidence of
bad taste, to give the names of those that actually put in an
appearance. Such a catalogue would be invidious in the last
degree, and might lead to a great deal of disappointment.
Suffice it to say that all the horses that were intended to run
were brought before the starter several minutes before he
lowered his flag.
And here it would be well to stop, were it not that in an
ante-dated report it is more than usually interesting to spot
the winner. Well, then, they are off! They pass Tatten-
ham Corner! It is all over, and the race has been run in
more than a minute, and less than half an hour. There has
been a First, a Second, and a Third ! The name of the First
is the most important—and see, there is the Number on the
Board. Refer to your card, and all—yes, all—is, revealed
to you! aSsSc k '■' rA
^n i,Mi], i j. - , iimliifiiliiltU ..lO^^BM^^HHIi
mm
\\\
H3
9
70L. LXXX.
Z