The Liverpool Standard and General Commercial Advertiser.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1855-08-28 00:00:00

A YANKEE HORSE-RACER.

On the evening of the first day's races, I was returning
to Quebec, when a small, shrivelly man, with hollow
cheeks, black twinkling eyes, and long lanky hair; mounted
on a good bay horse, somewhat out of condition, overtook
me —and, drawing up, said—
" I guess, Mister, you're one of the Britishers that have
been racing on the plains ?"
" I am, sir," I replied, not a little surprised at the tone
of the new comer.

" Now, I calculate," be continued, " that you know
as much about racin' as a Chippewa Ingian does about a
pair of dancing pumps. But, to the point. I've a four-
year-old colt, which I raised—half-blood, though a perfect
pictur' of a horse—which, if you'll give me a little start,
I'll run any horse in the country ; winner to be sold for
three hundred dollars."

I replied that I would at once accommodate him, with a
slight alteration of his proposal—that instead of a little
start, I would make him a handsome allowance of weight
for age and breed. After some slight demur, the Yankee
agreed to run his four-year-old American colt Eagle, Bst.
llbs., against my thorough-bred English mare Camilla,
aged, list., best of heats; the first a mile, the second two
miles, and the third three miles ; for 200 dollars each, p.p.
stakes to be made that evening, at the Union Hotel.
As my f-iend trotted off, I fancied I heard him say—" I
reckon I'll slip into those Britishers, afore I've done, as
slick as a whistle. I calculate I can see as far into a mill-
stone as the best of 'em." The stakes were duly made,
the articles drawn up, and the following morning I was
proceeding to the race-course, when I heard a clatter be-
hind me, and, on looking round, saw my friend of the day
before.

Anxious not to have any further communication with him
for the present, I pushed my hack on faster and faster, to
his best trot.

" I guess that's a pretty considerable smart horse; legs
well under him—gathers all up snug—no rollin' or wab-
blin'—all steady," said the stranger, as he came beside
me, and apparently reined in, to prevent his horse passing
me.

I felt humbled ; my favourite trotting hack Dick Turpin
was beaten. This might be ominous of the fate hanging
over me. To continue this unequal contest was humiliating
—I yielded, therefore, before the victory was palpable, and
pulled up.
.. _ . .

" Yes," continued my tormentor—" a horse of pretty
considerable good action, and a fairish trotter, too, I guess."
These words cut me to the quick ; Dick Turpin to be
pronounced by a Yankee dealer to be merely " a fairish
trotter." Anxious to change the conversation, I made the
usual common-place English remark upon the weather, and
deservedly was I punished for this piece of nationality.
" It's generally allowed," said he, " our climate in
America can't be ditto'ed. And Canada, before you Bri-
t ishers spilt it, was none so bad; but in the States it
stumps the whole universal world. It whips English
weather by a long chalk. None of your hangin', shootin',
drowning, throat-cuttin' weather; but a clar sky, real
cheerfulsome."
We reached the race-course, and my "little unknown"
weighed and mounted. Eagle was a thin leggy animal,
very unlike his owner's description : " a real daisy, a per-
fect doll—dreadful pretty —a genuine clipper— could gallop
like the wind ; beat a cannon ball by a neck or so ; had an
eye like a weasel, and nostrils like Commodore Rodger's
speaking-trumpet."
The jockey was equipped in an old pair of dark-coloured
corduroy unmentionables, shoes and gaiters, a waistcoat
that once had been yellow, and a red silk pocket-handker-
chief tied round his head. No sooner was this American
" Chifney," as he thought himself, in his seat, than the
brute upon which he was mounted began rearing, kicking,
and plunging.
After one or two false starts, we both got away—the Eagle
making tremendous running ; before we had got half-a-mile,
however, he put his foot upon a stone, fell, and the rider
pitched over his head. As the Eagle had flown across the

SUPPL

plain, I of course pulled up, and expressed a hope that the
jockey was not hurt.
" Don't stand starin' and jawin' there'; Fed the prostrate
man, "but heir me up—l'm propel:tifta,—l blow like a
horse that has' go% the heaves;nd I giessithad better wash
my facefor:l'veslowed up the ground 'With my nose the
matter ar a foot or two:s'
Remembering the trick that haA been attempted on my
first appearance on the race-course, at Southsea Common,
I was too wary to dismount (which I afterwards ascertained
was the Yankee's object), as he hoped by that manoeuvre to
get me distanced ; so calling to some soldiers of the artillery
to help Jonathan to the weighing-stand, I cantered over the
course. No sooner was his trick seen through, than up he
jumped, and, mounting his horse, which had now been
caught and brought to him, tried to overtake me ; but that
was not to be done : I had passed the winning-post ere he
had arrived at the distance-flag, and he was declared dis-
tanced.

Of course the volumes are spiced with a good
deal of love-making, quadrilling, and ball and
drawing-room adventure. They also have sufficient
unction imparted to the loftier scenes by an ad-
mixture of the vulgar and the lowly, all of which
are hit off con amore and with spirit ; and the
author, even when handling subjects generally
garnished with vulgar writing, never loses the
tone and characteristics of a gentleman. As a
whole, Philip Courtenay is fully entitled to rank
among the clever and entertaining books of the
day.

The Poetical Works of William Lisle Bowles,
with Memoir, Critical Dissertation, and Ex-
planatory Notes, by the Rev. George Gilfllan.
Edinburgh : James Nichol.

The volumes before us constitute two of the
library series of the British Poets, which we have
had such frequent occasion to commend. In the
instance under contemplation, the liberal spirit of
the publisher has induced him to travel out of
the round of poetic literature which lay open to
his hand, and to select for republication a collec-
tion of poems, the copyright of which has not ex-
pired, thus adding materially to his outlay in
producing the work, but without enhancing in
any degtee the price of the volumes to his sub-
scribers or the public. Such liberality on his
part deserves, and will, without doubt, receive
encouragement and reward. The popularity of
this handsome series continues, we are happy to
learn, on the increase, and these two volumes
cannot fail to augment it. Besides a full collec-
tion of the excellent poetry of Bowles, which has
been far less popular than its merits entitled it to
be, we have, as is usual in these volumes, a brief
biographical memoir of their author, and an
elaborate, though not long, dissertation on the
character of his poetry, by the Rev. G. Gilfillan.
In this dissertation Mr. Gilfillan glances briefly
over the poetry of the last century, contrasting it
with .the more vigorous and energetic produc-
tions of the present. To the poetry of the
eighteenth century we think he does but scant
justice, and treats it with uncalled-for severity ;
it must, however, be conceded that much truth
is mingled with his censure. his theory is that
an earnest people creates an earnest literature iu
prose and poetry, and thus far he is right ; but
we scarcely feel warranted in conceding all he
demands in the following passage, in which, after
tracing•the dawn of a more earnest age than the
preceding, he says,—

The French Revolution lifted up its volcano voice, and
said to the world of literature and song, as well as to the
world at large, " Sleep no more."

From this date the character of poetry was changed,
and I)gan to assume that antagonistic attitude to the
school of Dryden and Pope, which we described in our
commencing remarks, and which yet continues. Britain
got engaged in a Titanic warfare, an earth-shaking contest
—a war of opinion, not of treaties—of people's, not of
kings; and instead of " Campaigns," our poets indited
Odes to France, to the Departing Year, hymns to
" Carnage, God's Daughter," and "VlSiOni of Don
Roderick." Our relision became more intense and earnest,
v
and this produced, 9u the one hand, the fine religious ernes