The Sun.
London, England, 1860-05-24 00:00:00

THE DERBY DAY.

The Derby Day, and all relating to it, is a tale
which has been told more or less completely for the
last 84 years, and, to do it justice, we may say it is
about the only tale that will bear telling so often.
One fine Derby Day is, in a general way, as like
another as two peas, yet even the most constant
frequenter of the race finds in its rush and whirl,
its fun, noise, toil, and hurried incidents, something
ever new. It is all nonsense to talk of it as a race
only. Will any man of a calculating turn of mind,
who looks at the dresses, the smart turns out with
heavily gorged hampers lashed behind, tell us that
racing is the object of it all, or will he not rather
be of our opinion, and regard it as the metropolitan
picnic, London's only Carnival and great day out ?
It is all very well to gloss the matter over by an
occasional reference to the " Kerrekt Kard," or
some mild talk of latest betting " at the Corner,"
odds," " fields," " favourites," " dark horses," and
other turfite " shaves." But the men who are going
to the Derby because every one else goes there, and
who evinced as much eagerness to be off as if they
owned half the starters, in reality would not much
care if the race was to be ruu in four-wheeled wag-
gons. The Epsom epidemic which seizes Lon-
doners on this occasion is a very subtle disease, the
influence of which is not felt in all its force " till
the sun gives promise of a goodly day." Then it is
that everybody yields to the mania, from the
little children carrying large ones who sit in
the dust and shout at everything on wheels, up
to those venturesome youths who are seized with
such sudden indisposition the night before as to be
quite incapable of attending to business, &c., and
who now show the rapid progress of their malady
by appearing behind cigars, white-hatted and little
dolled, dashing aside their blue veils with graceful
nonchalance, and making believe as if they did not
want to wear them. The Elephant and Castle is
the great rendezvous for such choice spirits. Not
that they care about the road; the road may do
well enough for ladies, but they go to see the race,
of course. As turfites and sporting characters,
therefore, they interchange third-rate racing scandal
loud enough to attract the notice of the seedy in-
dividuals who have been betting thousands with
ostentatious secrecy among themselves. Notwith-
standing the magnitude of their transactions, how-
ever, these betting men are very affable—very ;
and, though standing to win or lose ten thousand
pounds, they are nevertheless open to small offers,
and, addresses being exchanged, book bets of a
pound or 30s. with suspicious greediness. Coach-
load after coach-load of such frolicsome pets roll
away, some of whom have already so far antici-
pated the pleasures of the day that even thus early
they require a friendly hand to steady them in
their seats. It is ten o'clock, the traditional dust
has risen to its full height, the weather is hot, the
road swarming, and the Derby Day begins. It is
all very well to rail against the dust, but it is our
deliberate conviction that the Derby would be
a failure without it. People dress for it,
look for it, and almost like the taste of it, when
it comes. There may, however, have been a
little too much of it yesterday, for the road was
marked by a dense ridge of stony particles of such
consistency that it seemed hard to believe it would
ever disperse again, but remain suspended evermore
a permanent feature of the landscape. Each cortege
seemed to be waited on by its own particular si-
moom, which hung upon its track with suffocating
pertinacity, reducing " horses and colours of the
riders" to one dull arid hue, which rendered recog-
nition of friends or features difficult. Is it possible
to ascertain the precise number of luncheons lost
yesterday through:friends on the Downs being thus
disguised completely in gritty atoms ?
The road yesterday was much the same as here-
tofore—that is to say, as indescribable as ever. On
it might be seen everything that would go upon
wheels, and not a few which, as it eventually
tamed out, would not go at all. There was every-
thing in the way of vehicular contrivance—grand,
moderate, seedy, and used-up—from the very fast
drag down to the humble costermonger's cart, or
the not much better postchaise which had been a
pigeon roost any time these months past in the
worst inn's worst yard. The quadrupeds, as a
- matter of course, were as numerous and not less
varied, comprising a liberal percentage of those
that wouldn't go and those that couldn't, and
never should have been tried at all. All through
Clapham and Cheam the road was lively, and the
turnpikes as annoying and obstructive as ever.
The "villa residences" and "eligible family man-
sions" were stuccoed over with fair spectators,
beginning with young ladies in charming morning
costumes in the gardens, making believe to be in-
different to drags and guardsmen, and ending at the
upper windows with a perfect show of babes and
nurslings, apparently not a whit the less interested
because they knew nothing of the matter. All the
" Minerva Houses," and " young ladies' seminaries,"
too, were well represented, the young ones occa-
sionally darting across the road, as Punch's cab•
man would say, " as if it was their private gard-
ing," or pausing timorously upon the brink of the
path with such naire helplessness as engaged the
sympathy of the young men whirling by, and not
the less effectually because the belles appeared to
bear their check with cheerful patience. Passing
Merton, the evidences of mishaps became more
numerous, and now and then was met a party look-
ing wrathfully at the ill-conditioned brute that had
brought them to grief, and which was still contem-
plating his hoofs with unswerving obstinacy, or
else, as near the course, it was a bony animal who
had died outright, and reduced the blue-veiled
clerks to the unpleasant necessity of passing the
night under a hedge or getting into the shafts t CM-
selves. Of course, for these last there was no want
of consolation in the way of liberal effers from
the passers-by to let their friends know where
they were, that the servant might be sent for
them at bedtime, with friendly intimations
now and then that the lamented decease of the
quadruped would necessitate their calling for
" orders" next day on foot. It seems strange,
but it is no less true, that somehow or other it
is generally the very ambitions equipages which

thus fall short. The costermonger, with his family

of nine inside and a select circle of immediate
relatives on the shafts, manages to jog on well
enough. The hill up to the epurs.e is, however, the
great touchstone of equine merit, and at this point
it is astonishing the unanimity with which the
horses appear to entertain the idea that they have
done enough. The " gay " animals, that have been
entering short protests on their hind legs all the
way down, now come out in their true colours, and
the result is a dead stop for some 10 minutes, till

the refractory brute is lashed into a field, when it

is suddenly discovered that another animal—of
course in the narrowest part of the road—has be-
come so reconciled to standing still that it is diffi-
cult to persuade him to move on again. At last,
however, mingling with the crowd of pedestrians
from both_ railways, the whole stream pours ou to
the course, and settles down for a time, if we may
so term it, into'a vast metropolis, in all save the
houses. Yesterday it was crowded as we have seldom
seen it. The Hill, the Stand', the Corner were black
with one dense mass of human beings of every grade,
from peers to pickpockets ; and all numerous
" Aunt Sally's " were this time too many for their
admirers, and their battered countenances were left
unnoticed by the crop d who thronged in little
groups all over the course to gaze upon the real
battering of countenances afforded by a glove repe-
tition of the contest between Heenan and Sayers.
There is no disguising the fact that the " noble
art of self-defence," as exemplified yesterday by
the rainorhiminaries of the Ring, all over the ground,
was the attraction of the day. Even the light of
science paled before the excitement of "stopping,"
" feinting," or "hitting with the left," and the men
with voltaic batteries, hitb.erto so patron ised,in vain
besought the passers-by to take the most a:-,t ish-
jug shocks for "only one ha'penny." Punch and
Judy, performing monkeys and precocious children ;
dogs wearied and footsore, but still on their hind
through a weak performance in
legs staggering
spite of tempting morsels thrown them by the mis.
chievous, were all disregarded when a ring was
formed for fistic science. Theerowd at oneagathered
round the scene of the mimic combat, where the

usual formalities of the Ring were observed with
droll precision, and where, somewhat moved by ap-
plause, but greatly animated by subscriptions, the
men proceeded to hit each other with a skill and
vigour that drew blood freely from both mouth and
nose. Acrobats, organ-boys, gaily-dressed Italian
peasants from Whitechapel, gipsies dispensing shil-
ling fortunes (chequered, however, w.th.:large fami-
lies and lawsuits), nigger melodists and German
bands, prick-the-garter and conjurors, painted
clowns, performing birds, and even the red-haired
villain with the three cards, who laughs at the
police and always reaps such a rich harvest on
these days, become as things of no account when
" two big ones" set to. In some encounters there
was a very fair amount of skill shown, and, con-
sidering that the day was hot, the hitting hard,
and that the sallow vagabonds had been at
it all the day, exhibition of endurance was not the
least astonishing part of it.
The first race on the Derby Day is very much
akin to the first dull piece on a Boxing-night. It
enables people to take their places, and nothing
more. Yesterday it seemed scarcely to answer even
this slight purpose, for the course was again thronged
as soon as the horses passed. It was not till the
clamour of the bell warned people that the event
was near at hand that the multitude fairly settled
down for that great race, on which, one way or the
other throughout the country, more than a million
is annually staked. The course gets cleared at last
even of the wretched dogs who are so worried, and
the very stout gentleman who pants along the line,
amid ironical queries as to which horse he is going
to ride, and offers of odds that he will be in plenty
of time for the Oaks. The police in vain say, "You
must go out here, Sir," pointing to an impenetrable
mass of spectators thronging round the spot where
there was once an opening. The stout gentleman
expostulates, and the people laugh till all minor
squabbles cease as the horses canter up the course in
twos and threes. Some take it leisurely as if they
ran for the Derby once a week, others skim the
ground like frightened deer, bounding along with
heaving nostrils and distended eyes in spite of every
effort of their jockeys to pull them in. Of course all
want to see the favourites, and consult their cards
forthwith, forgetting in their haste whether the
rider had a pink jacket with scarlet seams, cherry-
coloured stitches, and red cap, or whether it was
only a red jacket, with vermillion stitches, cherry-
coloured sleeves, and crimson cap. In the meantime
others come fast upon the field, Tiger looking al-
most the best of any, though Mainstone, Wizard,
Thormanby, Umpire, and Largesse of course com-
mand the most attention. They scamper away up
the course and come back in groups, flying like the
wind, and stretching their long necks as if all alive
to the racing value of even half a head. As they go
to the starting point a great hush comes upon the
multitude, who seem feverish with expectation, and
the silence is only broken by the gratuitous an-
nouncements of mouldy scamps outside the course
that they " bet on this race to win or lose," what-
ever that may mean. At last there is a hoarse cry
of "They're off!" and sure enough a group of horse-
men, showing, in their coloured jackets, like a par-
terre of flowers, struggle up the hill and then stop.
It is a false start, after all. But the delay is only
for a moment—again they dash forth—the bell rings
a warning peal, and the race for the Derby has
commenced. For a few seconds, which seem like
hours, the group is hidden, but at last it emerges on
the hill a little restless knot, which apparently a
tablecloth might cover. The hum of expectation
deepens into a roar of delight and wild excitement,
and, as the dull reverberation of the hoofs is heard
coming up the straight, there is a shout of " Hats
off !" and some 200,000 people stand bare-headed,
with their white faces all glancing in the sun, as
they strain their gaze with painful eagerness down
the course. Nearer and nearer comes the ruck of
horses. Men shout, they don't know why, as the bright
group, with some few horses leading, and all goaded
to their maddest speed, come flying up. Hats go into
the air, handkerchiefs are waved with cries and
cheers and clapping of hands as they thunder up and
past. It's Wizard !—it's Thormanby !—it's Umpire!
shout the crowd, as they overwhelm the police
and follow madly after them. No one knows any-
thing till pigeons are seen flying in all directions,
and there is great cheering at the chair as a black
and white number goes up at the post. It is Thor-
manby after all—and the Derby of 1860 is as much
a thing of the past as the first race that was ever
seen at Epsom.
The defeat of Umpire was a great discourage-
ment to the Auletluau party, Whu had calculated
with much confidence upon being enabled to carry
the Champion's belt and the Blue Riband of the
turf to America. Prior to the race the owner of
Nutbourne lodged an objection against Umpire, on
the ground that the horse was not of the age de-
scribed. Mr. Merry was warmly congratulated on
the success of his horse, and it is said that he wins,
in bets alone, upwards of £70,000. Nutbourne
broke down when running very prominently.

(The numbers prefixed to the horses' names correspond
with those on the card.)
The EPSOM TOWN PLATE, of 50 sovs. (Handicap), fora:
ages. Winners extra. One mile.
13. Mr. Savile's Parmesan, by Sweetmeat, 3 yrs, 6st
101 b (A. Edwards)
1- -

4,, Mr. Dreimmond's YOoicks, 3 yrs, 7st (W. Bottom) 2
2. Mr. Nichol's Bel Esperanza, 6 yrs, 9at (Bullock) 3
4. Mr. C. Thorp's Barege, 5 yrs, Bst 61b (Prior) 0
5, Mr. An ell's The Greek, 4 yrs, Bst 41b (perry) 0
7. Mr. S. Jacob's Estella, aged, Bst (Potter) 0
8. Mr. Matthew's Merry Monk, 3 yrs, 17st 71b (W
Johnson)
14. Mr. Mellish's Mercury, 2 yrs, 6st (Chapman).
16. Mr. T. Brown's f by Teddington-The Abbess of
St. Mary, 2 yrs, sst 111 b (car. Est 11b) (H. Grim-
shaw)
19. Mr. Neville's La Roux, 2 yrs, sst (Parsons) 0
Betting.-7 to 4 agst Parmesan, 7to 2 agst Yooicks, 5
to 1 agst Bel Esperanza, 8 to 1 agst The Greek.
They got away at the first attempt, Bel Esperanza lead-
ing for about a hundred yards. On settling down to their
work Parmesan took up the running, and held a long lead
round Tattenham-corner, Bel Esperanza going second ;
after crossing the road Yooicks joined them first, the first
two and Bel Esperanza dropping away beaten at the dis-
tance; he made a good effort to head Parmesan, but never
quite got, and was beaten by half a length ; a very bad
third. Estella, Barege, Abbess of St. Mary filly, and
La Reux were next pulling up.
The DERBY STAKES of 50 sovs each, h ft, for 3-yr-olds ;
colts, Bst 71b ; fillies, Bst 31b. The second to receive
100 ROW out of the stakes. Last mile and a-half. 224
subs.
21. Mr. Merry's Thormanby, by Melbourne or Wind-
hound-Alice Hawthorn, Bst 71b (enhance) .. 1
3. Mr. Nichol's The Wizard,:by West Australian, dam
by the Cure-Elphin, Bst 71b (A. French) 2
19, Captain Christie's Horror, by Wild Dayrell-Sally,
Bst 71b. (Challoner)
.. 3
5. Count F. De _Lagrange's Dangu, by Fitz Gladiator,
Bst 71b. (carried Bst 81b.) (J. Quinton) .. 0
1. Lord Palmerston's Mail:W.ons, by King Tom, Bst 71b
(S. Rogers) .._ .. • • • 0
2. Mr. I'Anson's Cramond, by Andover, Bst 711)
(Robertson) .. • . 0
4. Mr. Tute's The Drone, Bst 71b (G. Fordham) .. 0
6. Mr. Wyatt's Nutbourne, by The Nabob, Est 71b
(D. Hughes) .. .. • • .. 0
7. Mr. Harland's Sutton, by the Flying Dutchman,
Bst 71b (J. Osborne) .. 0
8. Lord Stamford's Bentinck, by the Flying Dutchman
Bst 71b (A. Edwards) .. 0
9. Lord Strathmore's Leprochaun, by Daniel O'Rourke 0
Bst 71b (Covey) .. 0
10. Mr. T. Dawson's Sir William, by Knight of Avenel,
Bst 71b (Bullock) ..
11. Baron Rothschild's Restes, by Orestes, Bst 711 a
(Charlton) .. 0
12. Lord Derby's Cape Flyaway, by the Flying Dutch-
-man, Bst 71b (Clement) 0
13. Mr. Howard's The Rap, by West Australian, Bst 71b
.(W. Boyce) • • • • • ' •
14. Mr. Gibb's Wallace, by Malcolm, Bst 71b (E. Sharp) 0
15. Mr. Heslop's The Tiger, by Newminster, Bst 71b (J.
Snowden)
..
0
16. Mr. Sutton's Man at Arms, by Kingston, Bst 71b
(Perry) • •
0
17. Lord Portsmoutla Buccaneer, by Dayr ell, Bst
71b (J. Goater)
18. Lord Glasgow's Tom Bowline, by the
Flying Flying Dutch-
man Bst 71b (Aldcroft)
0
21. Lord Zetland'a Lanchester, by Voltigeur, Bst 7•lb
(Marchant) • • 0
22. Sir C. Monk's Vesta, by Stockwell, Bst 21b (Hibbard) 0
23. Mr. R. Ten Broeck's Umpire, by Leconapte, Bst 71b
(L. Snowden) .. • • • 0
25. Mr. Merry's Brother to Rainbow, by Chanticleer,
Bat 71b (J. Sharp) • • • • • • • •
27. Sir J. Hawley's Loiterer, by Stockwell, Bst 71b (Wells) 1)
28. Sir J. Hawley's Largesse, by Pyrrhus the First, Bst
21b (Payter) 0
29. Mr. Crawfurd's Winton, by the Flying Dutchman,
Bst 71b (Norman) . . 0
30. Mr. Copperthwaite's The Rising Sun, by Bandy, Bst
71b (J. Mann) .. 0
31. Mr. Gratwicke's Ebony, by Robert de Gorham, Bst
71b (D. Plumb) .. 0
33. Mr. Jacques's High Treason, by-Mildew, Bst 71b
(Withington) 0
BETTING.
•
sto 2 agst 'the Wizard (offered)
sto 1 agst Thormanby (taken freely)
sto 1 agst Umpire (offered)
7to 1 agst Nutbourne (taken)
100 to 1 agst Buccaneer (taken)
20 to 1 agat Horror
25 to 1 agst High Treason
30 to 1 agst The Drone
30 to 1 agst Restes
40 to 1 agst Crammond
40 to 1 agat Mainstone
50 to 1 agst Wallace :
50 to 1 agst Lanchester
66 to 1 agst Sutton
THE RACE.

At exactly 25 minutes prior to the tinia.,of starting, the
numbers of filo 30 competitorswere displayed on the tele-
graph board. The horses assembled at the post with the