The Sun.
London, England, 1859-06-02 00:00:00

THE DERBY DAY.

The metropolitan pie nic.—London's one great
day out"—came off yesterday with such eclat,
such bustle, and such excitement as threw even
Mr. Frith's " Derby Day" into the shade. We have
been too much in the habit of regarding this na-
tional festival from a merely jovial point of view,
and quite overlook the immense field it opens up to
statistical inquirers. A return, easily obtainable
from the heads of city firms of the number of
aspiring clerks, who on this day are always confined
to their beds with violent colds, would, we think,
be an interesting document. A tabular statement
also of the per tentage of " sick relatives" and
" sudden sprains" would not be without its value,
especially if with it an approximation could be
given to the number of Derby Days in which each
young gentleman has been overtaken by similar
calamities. There. is much to be done also in the
subject of horses and vehicles. Who could be on
the road to the Downs yesterday without asking
himself a dozen times where all the horses came
from, and what was the charm which brought
about such an equine resurrection, and one so wide
spread and so simultaneous ? We don't speak of the
horses that had never been in harness before, or the
still larger number which it was perfectly evident
would never be in harness again, but the broken-
windedandspavined, the jibbers and roarers, where
do these come from, and above all where are the
people found each year to put their faith
rupe in them
one
on such a day ? Look at the bony quadds
sees indulging is imperfect reminiscences of a can-
ter, the feeble performance watched all the while
with vivid interest by a party of four, who exhibit
human credulity in its most aggravated form by
believing that the animal will take them to the
Derby. So, too, with the rather dashing turnout
which whirls past with its occupants, white-hatted,
blue-veiled, and little doll'd, and with all the other
fooleries of the day thick upon them, but -who,
in their happy ignorance of horseflesh, are all
unaware that the off-wheeler, a Kaman-nosed,
fiat-eared brute, will lie down with such de-
termination at the foot of the first hill he
comes to that a whole division of police, with Mr.
Rarey at their head, will fail to take him up again.
Such amusing contretemps, however, form, we sus-
pect, the major portion of the pleasure of the day.
Who can keep his gravity when he beholds a party
of small "swells" encamped under a hedge about
half way on the road, looking with dismay upon the
malignant brute which has brought them to such a
pass, and reduced them to the unpleasant necessity
of getting into the shafts themselves, or staying
where they are to receive ironical offers from the
passers-by of warm wraps " to make them com-
fortable for the night." Yesterday offered a constant
if not a pleasing variety of such scenes, for never
was the road more crowded, and the endless train
of carriages swept in a settled stream through
Clapham, Cheam, and Sutton, through fields purple
with rich clover, or glistening with buttercups.
The weather, we need scarce say, was glorious, and
all that could be wished. There was just sufficient
doubt about the look of the morning to make it a
decided relief when one or two ominous clouds
moved off, and every one's exhilaration rose in pro-
portion as the day settled down for " fair." We
may be hypercritical, but once or twice upon the
road we could scarcely help imagining that a lower
temperature would have been more pleasant. The
same thought, or something very similar again
. occurred when packed beyond the possibility of
moving in the Grand Stand.
If there is one weak point in a gentleman's temper
—and most of our fair readers will be inclined to
admit there is one, at least—the turnpike-gate at
Sutton on a Derby Day is pretty sure to find it out.
Roadside jokes, accordions played out of tune,
Nigger melodistss and German bands may be amus-
ing, though beyond the first half-hour or so their
united exertions, as a rule, have not that tendency,
and it is, therefore, with a sensation approaching to
relief that the bands and slang are at last left be-
hind, and the road to the Downs fairly open to all.
One remarkable circumsfane about the Sutton-gate
is the equanimity with which all the horses recon-
cile themselves to standing still. The gate is not
their ,place for. a display of , temper. The hill lead-
ing up to the Downs affords a better field, and it
is there that the least blemish in a horse's temper
comes out in the darkest colours. At this stage of
the journey many horses, especially single ones,
which have dragged down a heavy family chaise
with a family party, appear smitten with a pro-
found conviction that they have done enough. It is
seldom, however, that the driver is of precisely the
same mind, and the difference of opinion has to be
settled on the spot. Yesterday a wicked beast of
such kind, after a prefatory kick or two, coolly
backed down the hill into the stream of carriages,
alighting against one with a soft crushing noise
and subdued tinkling, which told the dismayed
family that the well-stocked hamper behind had
been suddenly called upon to do duty as a "buffer"
for them all. Others took to settled kicking, when
the drivers were of course overwhelmed with a
thousand infallible receipts for such contingencies,
amid the multiplicity of which they contented
themselves with the best and simplest, that of hold-
ing the brute fast and getting him out of harness
as soon as possible.
But the Downs, in spite of all, ale reached at
last, and here all the streams by road and rail con-
verge, every minute adding thousands to the
thousands already there. Most of our readers have
seen a Derby Day, and doubtless a fair per tentage
have attempted to describe it, although it is as in-
describable as space—a scene which no pen or
pencil has ever yet truly realised. It is London
without its houses ; London without its strange
melange of rich and pOor, squalor and luxury,
mirth, vice, and festivity; London in the broad
open day, with all its pleasure-seekers, profit-
hunters, tradesmen, knaves, and fools ; the army
and navy, the west-end drawing-rooms, and east-
end dens, all find their representatives here, and
for once and a way stand face to face upon the
course. The population is, indeed, motley enough.
Here are the regular stock gipsies one meets at
every race, the possessors in prophecy of untold
wealth, yet always draggling through dust and dirt
for the sixpences of the credulous. Look at that
little group between two booths, where a red
haired man, with an indescribable appearance
of slang in the very buttons of his waistcoat,
sits upon the grass and manipulates three
cards, inviting in the blandest terms the bystaVers
to name any when they fall. Two or three unex-
ceptionable " gents" are eager in the matter, and
can scarcely be withheld from staking £lO-notes,
till a scarcely perceptible voice says " Hedge,"
when all rise in earnest conversation, mingle toge-
ther, and are gone none know why' or where till
innocent spectators find themselves objects of grave
suspicion to the police who have strolled to the
spot, of course too late. Lower down, next to a
group of Ethiopians grinninr, with the dental
" abandon" peculiar to their race, a man with a coil
machine and battery (such is the march of science !)
gives small shocks for a penny, and finds mo
• - re
customers for torture at this low charge than he
can well accommodate Acrobats, minstrels, organ
grinders, infant bands, performing monkeys, and
precocious children abound in all directions.
Dogs, imitating their betters, -walk about on their
fore-paws for halfpence, tumblers arc doing every-
thing but stand like human beings ; weighing
machines cover the course (how is it that the
stoutest gentlemen arc always so particular about
being weighed ?) and children that can scarcely
walk upon 'their feet are made to strut 'about on
stilts or b ilancc on their heads in wooden platters.
But greatest among the amusements of the day is
" Aunt Sally," which all young gentlemen now
affect to such an extent that we meet her battered
countenance and short clay pipe at every step, and
none too hi.h to do her honour. The exercise is
not interesting, but is not the less fashionable for
that, and the old lady seems getting so much in
vogue that we quite expect, when next Mrs. Brown
announces to the beau monde her " At home," that
a corner of the card as ill be devoted to " Aunt Sally
at 10." The booths too, in their way, are quite as
curious as the heterogeneous assemblage, from the
vile dens where Jones and Angell announce to the
. nobility and gentry that " they are there," up to
the quiet, unobtrusive places where privately " on
fait le jeu." Here are booths set apart for the
sallow votaries of the prize ring, whose battered
countenances fill the spectator, if he is anything
of a physiognomist, with unpleasing forebodings
as to the 'Means which will cut short their un-
timely fates. Out-side -lounge the smaller lumi-
naries—the men-who constantly challenge all the
world (including the Clerkenwell Chicken and
Bermondsey Brinser), and who always discover
-'that their fighting weight is just nine ounces below
that of the individual who accepts their offer, and
therefore " business" is out of the question. Yet
even
these small vagabonds have their admirers,,
and. amonga certain circle yesterday were inferior
in interest only to the grooms and stable-boys who
of course possessed the secret of the winning horse.
There is a whole population of itinerant vendors
of everything, fromsun-dried buns, hot oranges,
impracticable 100 and repulsive sand-
wiches, with a fair smart equestrians
front town, and rather clumsy ones from the coun-
try. Detachments of the swell mob appear keenly
alivf, to the merits of the scene, and even deign to
notice such small ware as the •
eapm,••• countrymen
WhC) are gathered round a little model of ;a hy
deal 'lie machine, submitting their fingersto its
pressure, though without the slightest faith in
water being its motive power. The day draws on,
the hill in front of the Stand is covered with thou-
sam:s upon thousands, the Stand itself is full liter-
ally t o suffocation, and the course is hidden by the
dens c mass which swarms up and down it in all

directions. ' There is no mistake about it, in spite
of all that has been 6said and written to the con-
trary, the Derby Day increases in interest and im-
portance each year. Nor does the influx of railway
passengers seem at all to influence the attendance
of the elite of the course.
Every place, however, is equally crowded, the
day is hot, and all are getting impatient, as the
bell rings, and the police at last set to work to
clear the course, a work apparently of superhuman
difficulty, but which is at last accomplished, and
the Aunt Sallys, stalls, weighing machines, hawk-
ers, dogs, and booths are successively ejected. Then
comes the first race, about which no one cares a
straw, which people only look at because they are
tired of looking at one another, just as they
do now and then at " Jane Shore," on a
boxing night before the pantomime. A little in-
terval and again the course is cleared, and the ex-
citement begins to rise. By and by, amid a hum
of expectation and anxiety, the" horses came out
in twos and threes. Promised Land is watched with
breathless interest by
sandsthousa as he skims over
the ground, looking, as he one of the most per-
fect racehorses that ever strode upon the Downs.
He is followed at a little distance by Musjid, who,
with his immense stride, seems going faster than
is prudent before a great contest. Trumpeter,
Electric, Ticket-of-Leave, and a host of others come
in the wake, with long taper limbs, bounding over
the sward like greyhounds, and their coats groomed
till they glitter like metal in the sun. After a rather
long scamper, they return in twos and threes, quite
as fast, some of them, as they ran in the great race
afterwards. The excitement grows deeper and deeper
as they range themselves at the starting-post, where
a good deal of difficulty is experienced in getting
them into line, so much so that it is 20 minutes to 4
ere the flag falls definitely, and, amid a deep silence,
away they go, emerging in a few seconds on the top
of the hill in a cluster which apparently a sheet
would suffice to cover. Another second and the
cry is "Hats off!" and the vast multitude, lookinc,
white with upturned faces, stand bareheaded in the
sun. The horses sweep by like a whirlwind, and
almost within a minute, the Derby is run and won.

SPORTING IN7'ELLIGENCE.

,v4poom MEETING—WEDNESDAY.
THE DERBY DAY.

The morning gill': roused travel-stained tramps from their
dark lairs under the elledgerows, roused little brown gipsy
children, who came erbleping out from under the tents
amongst the furze, like rabi:itsi, and stirred into increased
activity and energy the waiters a-nd workmen at the booths.
Then came racehorses on to the cOurse to exercise, and
then a thick mist rose, hiding every object from the view,
and compelling the early strollers on the :Downs to listen
for the clank of hammers and the shouts of men to guide
their steps. By eight o'clock, however, the mist rose gra-
dually, and the whole landscape was left bright and glis-
tening in the sun. The heavy rain of the preceding after-
noon had rendered the atmosphere cool and fragrant, and
prevented the dust from rising under the wheels of car-
riages and the tramp of pedestrians. Soon after daylight
the stream of people set in towards Epsom, and it rapidly
swelled as noon approached, blocking up the street and
byways to the course, until it broke and spread upon the
Downs.

The aspect of a Derby Day has been presented to our
readers in so many shapes that we may be spared the task
of elaborate description. Frith has painted the scene, and
Montalembert has sketched it. The Grand Stand was more
crowded than ever—the crush of carriages larger—the
excitement deeper, and the fug and hilarity more bois-
terous than ever our remembrance. can parallel. The first
race excited no attention ; like a Princess's vaudeville, it
merely played the people in, and gave them time to take
their places and prepare themselves for the grand spectacle
that was to follow. With that promptitude and discipline
for which the A division of police is celebrated, the course
was soon cleared, and it stretched green and bright
through the serried ranks of people, which extended
from Tattenham-corner to the " rubbing-house." The
numbers were hoisted on the telegraph board, sweepstakes
hastily formed amongst the occupants of carriages on the
hill, and the hum of excitement and anxiety swelled into a
roar, which might have been heard for miles round. Froln
the Grand Stand enclosure rose shouts which were distinct
above every other sound. Bookmakers: were engaged in
"getting round," and backers of horses in "getting out,"
and they were quite indifferent to the scene in which they
were playing not unprominent parts. The three leading
favourites were'pretty firm, and Newcastle was also brought
with some force into the market. After 10 to 1 had been
taken about him to money, he receded to 14 to 1 offered.
No incident of speculation, however, was so important as
that which marked the steadiness of the three leading fa-
vourites. Sir Joseph Hawley and Wells were fortunate--
the former in owning the winner of a Derby two years in
succession, and the latter in being able to ride it. Wells,
who met with a fearful accident at Chester, was quite re-
covered from his hurts. George Manning, who comes of a
racing family, and who is the youngest brother of the well-
known clerk of the scales, has had a share of fortune which
rarely befalls any trainer. He has had Sir J. Hawley's
horses under his care for barely three years, and during
that time he has won two Derbies, and some of the princi-
pal weight for age races. The "ring" arc, of course, the
chief losers by the result of the race.
The business of the meeting was well conducted. The
police were under the orders of Superintendent Walker,
Inspectors Bray, Grant, Butt, Eccles, and Jackson. Mr.
Coppard was on duty at the private stand, and Mr.
Charles Martin superintended the out-door arrangements.
Amongst the company on the stand we noticed the
following :—Duke of Beaufort, Marquis of Ailesbury,
Lord D. Kennedy, Earl of Airlie, Mr. M. Archdall, Sir' G.
Armytage, Major Bagot, Capt. Baillie, Mr. C. Balfourf
Mr. C. Bernard, Lord Bateman, Marquis of Bath, Earl of
Bessborough, Sir George Boswell, Mr. J. Bowes, Hon. G.
Byng, M.P., Earl of Bective, Duke of Cambridge,Viscount
Canterbury, Col. Carlton, Earl of Chesterfield, Capt.
Christie, Viscount Clifden, Sir W. Codrington, Marquis of
Conyngham, Alderman Copeland, Lord Courtenay, Mr. J.
S. Crawford, Viscount Curzon, Hon. Capt. Curzon, Earl
of Dalkeith, Colonel de Horsey, Sir H. des Vceux, Mr. H.
N. des Vceu.x, Mr. H. D. Drummond; Lord de Manley,
Hon. L. Ellis, Viscount Enfield, Earl of Euston, Marquis
of Exeter, Viscount Exmouth, Sir M. Farquhar, M.P.,
Mons. Fould, Colonel Ferguson, Lord F. Fitzroy, Hon. G.
Fitzwilliam, Hon. H. Forester, Mr. W. L. Gilmour, Earl
of Glasgow, Earl Granville, Mr. C. Greville, Earl of Hare-
wood, Marquis of Hartington, Sir Joseph Hawley, Colonel
Higgins, Lord Villiers, Mr. J. Ives, Earl of Jersey, Mr.
R. Knightley, M.P., Lord A. Lennox, Earl of Lichfield,
Earl of Lincoln, Captain Little, Mr. H. Lowther, Hon. J.
Macdonald, Mr. F. Magennis, Mr. C. Martin, Mr. E.
Mills, Mr. J. Merry, M.P., Viscount Newport, M.P., Col.
Newton, Mr. R. Onslow, Mr. G. Payne, General Peel,
M.P., Sir R. Peel, M.P., Earl of Portsmouth, Mr. R.
Read, Hon. Admiral Rous, Mr. H. Saville, Earl of Scar-
borough, Lord John Scott, Mr. R. Shafto, M.P., Hon. F.
Stanhope, Earl of Strathmore, Mr. G. Sturt, M.P., Mr.
Napier, M.P., Earl of Stamford, Colonel Taylor, M.P.,
Viscount Torrington, Mr. Talor, Hon. G. Vaughan, Mr.
T. Wallaee, Mr. H. Weller, Mr. W. Wells, M.P., Earl of
Winchelsea, Sir:W. W. Wynn, Lord Grey de Wilton, Sir
Lydston Newman, &c.

The Bentinck Plate of 50 sous (Handicap) ; winners extra.
Three-quarters of a mile.

Captain Christie's Orchehill, 4 yrs, Bst 51b (inc. 51b ex.)
(Fordham) 1
Mr. Jackson's Knayton, 2 yrs, 4st 71b (carried sst)
(Grimshaw) 2
Mr. Mundy's Confectioner, 2 yrs, 4st 71b.... (Parsons) 3
The following also ran :—Villaret, Gargrave, Amster-
darn, Conductor, Vulture, Infanta, and Foretop.
Betting-6 to 4 agst Orchehill, 3to 1 agst Knayton,
and 6 to 1 agst any other. After one failure, caused:by
Knayton, who broke away, and ran round Tattenham-corner
before he was stopped, they got away, Knayton making
the running, with Villaret second, and at about six lengths
behind them were Orchehill and Confectioner. Orchehill
waited until about half a distance from home, when he
headed Knayton, and won in a canter by a length and a
half ; bad third, and worse fourth. After passing the post,
Confectioner overpowered Parsons, jumped the hedge at
the paddocks, and threw Parsons, who was stunned and
bruised about the face.

The Derby Stakes of 50 sovs each, h ft, for three-yr .olds ;
colts, Bst 71b ; fillies, Bst 21b ; the second to receive 100
sovs out of the stakes. Mile and a half. 246 subs.
Sir J. Hawley's Musjid, by Newminster, Bst 71b (Wells) 1
Colonel Townley 's Ticket-of-Leave, Bst 71b .. (G. Oates) 2
Mr. H. Hill's Trumpeter,. Bst 71b ............ (A. Day) 3
Mr. W. Day's The Promised Land, Bst 71b . (W. Day) 4
The following also ran :
Lord Chesterfield's Volcano, Bst 71b (Ashman)
Sir J. Hawley's Gallus, Bst 71b (Cresswell) •
l‘Ciarp.tloin Gray's
iins tone nbsG3lleariounuck Bst
ette,7Blb (Hammond)st7lb
(S.
uoers)
Mr. G. Payne's colt by Cotherstone, out of Glenluce, Bst 71b
(Charlton)
Mr. T. Walker's Bankrupt, Bst 71b (Aldcroft)
Mr. Wentworth's Schuloff, gst 71b (Pearl)
Baron Rothschild's Brother to Sydney, Bst 71b (Musgrove)
Mr. A. Nichol's Phantom Bst 71b (Templeman)
Mr. Barrat's Electric, Bst 71b (J. Golder))
Mr. Ford's Polonius, Bst 71b (T. Sherwood)
Mr. J. Hawkins's Enfield, Bst 71b (C. Marlow)
Mr. C. Capel's Highwayman, Bst 81b (J. Mann)

•
Dir. Pare; Gaspard, Bst 71b (W. Boyce)
Sir C. Monk's Gamester, Bst 71b (Withington)
Colonel Townley's Gladiolus, Bst 71b (J. Snowden)
Mr. Parker's Nhurod, Sst 71b (Roe)
Lord Dorchester's Reynard, Bst 71b (French)
Mr. A. Worsley's Newcastle, Est 71b (Fordham)
Mr. W. I'Ansen's Balnamoon' Bst 71b (Kendal)
Mr. Saxon's Defender, Bst 71b (L. Snowden)
Mr. J. Osborne's Red Eagle, Bst 71b (J. Osborne)
Mr. C. Peek's Napoleon, Sst 71b (Bamby)
Mr. Mercy's Lord of the Manor, Bst 71b (Plumb)
Mr. J. Hawkins's Sir Hercules, Bst 71b (E. Sharp)

Mr. Fergusson's Lovett, Bst 71b (Bullock)
BETTING AT STARTING.

2 to 1 agst 1 agst Promised Land ; 7 to 2
agst Trumpeter; 12 to 1 agst Balnamoon ; 14 to 1 agst New-
castle; 20 to 1 agst Ticket-of-Leave; 20 to 1 agst Marion-
nette ; 25 to 1 agst Glenbuck ; 30 to 1 agst Phantom ; 40 to
1 agst Gamester ; 40 to 1 agst Electric ; 50 to 1 agst Defen-
der ; 1,000 to 15 agst Lovett ; 1,000 to 10 agst Red Eagle ;
1,000 to 10 agst Glenluce Colt; 1,000 to 5 agst Enfield.