The Daily Times.
Liverpool, Merseyside, England, 1860-05-23 00:00:00

prodigies, tnniblers, performing dogs, pigs, cats
and mice, *eighing machines, stilt-stalkers, and
" Aunt Sallys." Booths of all sorts put forth
claims to the patronage of all classes. At last etery
available space is occupied, and we are much
mistaken if a very cursory survey of the tens of
thousands assembled to-day on the hill in front of
the stand, in the grand stand itself, and all over
the course, does not show that the " Derby Day"
Of 1860 possesses more interest and importance,
in the estimation of the: people than that of any

former year.
Before the start, the admirers of the race horse
Will hdve the finest possible opportunity to-day
of studying rim in the highest state of perfection,
in the WAAR6, viliere the horses are saddled
and mounted. It is a small but piettireeque spot,.
kept up in the forest style, and enclosed by n
wall, open to all. To see the Most celebrated
jockeys, to be in company with half the a risto-
eraey of England; and to observe all the keenest
sporting Men in die Nkorld, drixidusly inspecting
the horses as they walk round this 5'6.4 of tiral
circus, and observing the condition of their fa-
vourites with a sharp eye to the probable result,
is a_ sight worth much more than the shilling
charged for admission.
Now for the start. As a betting race, the
Derby of 1860 has seldom, if ever, had an equal;
but owing to various accidental causes the field
to-day, it is expected, will not be so extensive as
that of last year : and it is supposed that when
the bell is rung this afternoon there will not be
above twenty-five found at the starting-post.
But just think, for a moment, of the consequences
involved in this simple act of starting the noble
animals! How many tens on tens of thousands
of poUnds depend Off it and oh the result,—
how much ruin perhaps to itially Failby so
Many as twenty-five horses-=only three-year-old
colts, looking like sii-year-olds, with the bloom:
of condition on their shining coats, drawn up in
a glorious line at the all-interest-a.btorbing start-
ing-post, with the picked lackeys of all England
on their backs. They are of ! "NO', NO," cries
one jockey, whose horse turns his tail to the
others just as the word " Go" was given. It is
a false start. " COME BACK," cries the starter.
Some are pilled up shortly, others go twice as
far, and another is fa'r on to the well-known
Tattenham corner before he ears be restrained.
By and by they are all back again. cif the post
and each rider trying to secure a good place, and
quietly manmuvring to obtain an inside position,
and coaxingly patting their horses on the neck,
themselves calm but thoughtful. Each has much
to think of, for he and his confederates have
thousands on the race, and he is running it
in his mind's eye. These men sit horsed side by
side, each heavily backed to win. esee how some
of these horsemen are wasted to bring themselves
to weight,—some of them slim young jockeys,
with high cheek bones and long necks as if in a
gallopping consumption. They are of again !
A beautiful start and a still more beautiful sight.
All the hues of the rainbow may be seen in the
colours of the riders and in the complexions of
their horses! What a spectacle for the sports-
Men Who take their stand on the hill on the
coursd to See the first part of the race, and to
observe the places their favourites have gotten.
They are all in a cluster, and look as if a sheet
might cover them. The Jockeys cast furtive and
anxious glances at each other's horses, for they
dare do no more. By and by, the rapidity of the
pace and the severity of the ground throw the
soft-hearted ones behind, and the riders are a
little more at their ease. At Tattenham corner
there is even room for observation. " I think I
can win," says one to himself, " for I know I
hove the speed of all here—but I must take a
strong pull on this hill." The next horse is going
sweetly, and the next is lying well up. Another
crack one is coming—creeping up in his usual
form. Another and another presses on. It is a
terrible race. There are, we shall suppose, eight
in front, NUTBOURNE, THE WIZARD, BUCCANEER,
HIGH TREASON, THORMANBY, UMPIRE, TOM BOW-
LINE, and RESTES, and nothing else has a chance
to win. The set-to now begins ; they are all
good ones ; the last four fall behind: and then,
we fancy, THE WIZARD and HIGH TREASON leave
the winning to be disputed by NUTBOURNE and
BUCCANEER,—but some say WIZARD and UMPIRE.
Whips are at work—the people shout—hearts
throb—ladies faint—the winning-post is passed.
HURRAH ! WHO HAS WON ?
In a few brief hours the Derby of 1860 will be
run and won ; and the telegraph will enable us
to announce the result in a later edition.