The Sun.
London, England, 1837-12-25 00:00:00

PICTURE OF TATTERSALL'S.

(From the Spectator.)
I started when I'd skimnied the POST,
To TSTTERSALL'S in high condition.—C. Dibdin the Younger.
Though Tattersall's is to the London sporting man better known than
St. Paul's, it is an undiscovered country to some of onr staid metropo-
litan, and to most of our provincial readers. Before endeavouring to
give a sketch of Tattersall's as it is, we will say a word or two of Tatter-
sall's as it was. Be not alarmed, gentle reader, we are not going into a
biography of the late Mr. Tattersall ; if you wish for anecdotes of him
you will find them in a little volume entitled "The Fruits of Expe-
rience," whers he is described " in his habit as he lived " in byegonte
days; when the now expanded glories of Highfiyer-hall were but in
the bud. In the late Mr. Tattersall's time powder gave a look of
respectability to those who lack adventitious aid to enable them
to pass current. Pigtails were plentiful then, and leather un-
mentionables abounded. Now, unless it be old Becher (father
of the steeple chaser), we seldom see even the latter sported
here. Old Mr. Tattersall had rather more rhetorical flourish
than his successors, and in his bright blue coat and white neck-
cloth, that looked like a young tablecloth, might have passed muster as
a candidate at a county election. In appearance the yard looked better
in the olden time, but the conduct was worse; we, happily, have little
or any of the cursing and wrangling of those days ; the curses now are
not " loud, but deep." In all, save externals and the observance of a
little more decorum, the corner is as it was, and with what it is we have
to do. Firstly, WHERE ? At Hyde-park-corner take the first turning
on the left hand side, end past a large white building you will perceive
a narrow way, very mews-like and unimportant, follow your nose, and
on your right hand you will find the place you seek; a large door such
as you see at inns, with a closeable doorway in it, lets you into the yard;
on the tight is a counting-house, in front of you the place where Mr.
Tattersall erects his pulpit, and to your left the room where fortunes
have been made and lost, and will again and again, unless Mr. Owen's
schemes, or the Millenium, comes to pass. Of the sales here jr
is needless to speak, save that they embrace every class of
11

iorse from the " crack" of Newmarket to the " screw" of Smith-
field. "The room" Is no splendid salon but a dingy, uncom.
fortable, unfurnished, uncarpeted apartment, small and inconvenient,
yet no one complains or seems to feel this. Secondly when, on Mon-
days and Thursdays this room (and frequently the yard besides) may
be seen crowded with persons of different stations and callings, and with
those who have perhaps neither station nor calling, but who, having al-
ways proved correct at the corner; take their stand as fearlessly as my
lord. The " great creatures" of the turf seldom show ;they are content to
make their bets through agents, but though dukes are rarities, men of
wealth and of consequence are not. It is strange to see how distinctions
are forgotten when once the portal is passed; the (elsewhere) haughty
aristocrat bets freely with the pork-butcher and the publican, and
nothing appears to be thought of but " getting money on;" or if too
deep already, " getting it oft:" In the room are many whom the major
part of the frequenters of Tattersales remember in the most menial situa.
tions, and outside the room, perhaps outside the gate, you may behold
many a squalid loiterer whom all also remember as having been amid the
busiest of the betters. Gentlemen do not now array themselves like
coachmen ; there is therefore nothing very peculiar about the appear-
ance of the subscribers in general, though to this remark Old Spring
(the ci-devant box-keeper), and one or two more, form exceptions. In
the yard, however, are generally a number of persons who look like
grooms out of employ; horse-dealers, run to seed; and victuallers
no longer licensed; they appear every bit as much interested us
tho.e who have' thousands depending. Opposite the gate is a paddock,
where the trotting out sometimes takes place ; by the gateway of this is,
a small cabaret, called the Turf Tavern, where a class of betters are ge-
nerally waiting to hear what are the odds in the room. Many attend
there who do not choose to become subscribers, and many, perhaps, who
might not feel very comfortable in "the room" itselE The physiogno-
mist, the actor, the painter, the sculptor, would find some admirable
studies here on the grand musters. Take the settling day of the Derby,
for instance :—Mark the haggard, sleepless, and care.worn look, of yon-
der loser—observe how his lips, pale even to blueness, quiver, and his
fingers work convulsively as he falters out an excuse to the winner,
who stands with his eyes cast sulkily down, and his teeth clenched, as if
he had predetermined to have the money, or—see with what non.
chalance yonder two high-born, but reckless-looking, young men, pay
and receive. Cast your eyes upon that group, all muttering in a corner
—what think ye they are discussing ? The probability of X—, who is
in all their books, showing or levanting. Look at the subscribers, as they
depart—do you pause to ascertain the winners? How G— bounds
into his cab ; B-- gives a playful pat to his pony, that says, as plain
as doe-skin can, " I've done the trick;" R-- walks, or rather creeps,
slowly away, with a wayless luok, that implies that it matters not whi-
ther he turns, for ruin stares from every corner. The only unconcerned
creature being the reporter, who wears now the face he wore when he
entered—what is it to him ?—he is the notcr of the doings of others—
not a angler in the busy scene itself It would be easy to pursue the
picture of winners and losers—to trace the former, pouring his riches
into the lap of loveliness, and being paid by a smbe, which the lady
lives by martlng—to see the latter return to his home, to his wife
who is now ponnyless, to babes whom he has beggared. Such things,
however, happen after visits to other places than Tattersall's.
Messrs. T—, one of whom is lame, are rather below the middle
size, and what becomes observable in such a place, usually wears silk
stockings and pumps : there is no appearance of assumption or effo tin
or out of the rostrum ; and those who only look at the owners of " the
corner" and at " the corner" itself, would have no idea of the wealth of *.
ie former or the importance of the latter.
In the lane where the yard is situated, dog fanciers, &c., commonly

take their station, and anxiously endeavour to catch the eye of some
sporting gent, who may do the liberal for a bit of fancy. Formerly.
during the monkey.mania, baboons, apes, &c., were vended, and parrots
continually. We have seen it stated in an old book on sporting, that
Colonel O'Keliy bought his celebrated parrot here, but such was riot
the fact.
On Mondays and Thurdays business generally commences between
two and three, and ends at five, though in spring it is sometimes be.
tween six and seven ere the company separate. It Is noticeable that
one or two ersons make a practice of remaining in the room for about
an hour, and then going out, and returning again to the charge, when
they generally go resolutely to work. Whether these parties go for
orders or advice is "nothing to nobody." The quantity of business
transacted, and the rapidity with which it is effected, is astoundi-ag,
Here; as everywhere else, many, we may almost say the matarity,
trust less to their own judgment than to that of some luminary of the
race-course. The bets of Mr. Greville, Mr. Batson, and others, are
generally forerunners of similar ones by those who knord nothing of
the data on which these gentlemen have formed their tpinions. Many
attend who do not bet on their own account, but whose em.
ployers either instruct them, ofctake their agents' judgment in pre_
Terence to their own. When these agents prove heavy losers, it Is
quite edifying to behold the equanimity they display. The usual fee-
qu:niters of Tatteisall's are of course what is understood by the term
"sporting men," yet not a few merchants may occasionally be ftell—lite_
rary men now and then, generally those who hover lightly round
the muses—actors, but few ; indeed this class, though always at races,
seldom bet much. The late Lewis was here in the olden time. and
George Colman; Jack Johnstone, too, in his younger days. We have seen
Mathews the elder, and Decamp, Jones (we th ink), and Rayner here,
but the scene seems to present little attraction to an actor.
Though the stock betting is upon races, public events, elections, na-
tional calamities, &c., are sometimes speculated upon. When the
pa ize.ring was at its height, " Cribb" and " Molyneux" were as com-
monly named as Early Bird and Grey Momus now.
The name of Tattersall is ktiJwn in every quarter of the civilised
world. Dighton, by his semi-caricuure print, made the face of the
late Mr. Tattersall familiar to all London, :rod i.oale great unknown at
the Adelphi Theatre enacted the present one in " Tom and Jed ry."
Dighton's was a good likeness, the histrionic gentleman's a failure. To
' conclude, reader, we wish thee a merry Christmas, and a happy new
year ; if thou has: never been to " the corner," and " Intendest" to
go, or if thou has often been and intendest to go again, or if thou in-
tendest to go so more, all we wish is, that now and hereafter thou
may'st be able tiatiAl' as we can—" I have no reason to regret going to.
Tattersall's,"

Miss Angela Burdett is in treaty for the purchase
of Worksop manor from the Duke of Norfolk. This will. be.
a splendid residence for one of the richest ladies in the king,* ,m•