The Sun.
London, England, 1861-05-30 00:00:00

PO) AL OEOGRAPIIICAL SOCIETY.

Monday, at one o'clock, the anniversary meet-
ing of this society, which has of late been as-
suming a position commensurate with its great
objects, which are of universal interest, was held at
Burlington-house, Piccadilly. In the unavoidable
absence of Lord Ashburton, the president, Sir Ro-
derick Murchison was called to the chair. There
was a large attendance of members.
The accessions to the society since the last anni-
versary amount to the unprecedented number of
233 Fellows. Daring the same period the Council
have to record the decease of 30 ordinary members
and two corresponding—viz., the Chevalier Pedro
de Angelis, of Buenos Ayree, and M. Daussy, of
Paris. The society now comprises 1,510 Fellows
and 54 honorary and corresponding members.
Earl DE GREY had attended to receive, on
behalf of Captain John Henning Speke, of the
Indian army, the Founder's Medal which has
been awarded to him for his eminent geo-
graphical discoveries in Africa, his prudence and
intrepidity as a traveller, and more especially for
the discovery of the great lake Victoria Nyanza,
as illustrated by the map constructed for the jour-
nal of the society ; and lastly, for the zeal with which
he undertook, and is now carrying out, at the in-
stance of the society, the determination of the
northern limits of the lake Victoria Nyanza, and
the possible sources of the White Nile.
The CHAIRMAN having presented the medal in a
complimentary address,
Earl DE GREY expressed the very great pleasure
he:experienced in accepting on behalf of Captain
Speke that symbol of the high estimation in which
the Roy-al Geographical Society held the services
he had rendere, aad was still rendering, to geo-
graphical science. He cordially and entirely con-
curred in the course which the society had taken
in awarding that medal to Captain Speke. As presi-
dent of the society last year, he had the gratifica-
tion of presenting a similar medal to Capt. Burton,
also an officer in the Indian army ; and connected as
he (Earl de Grey) was with the Indian-office, it was a
source of pleasure to him to think that officers of the
old Indian army were amalgamating with the rest
of the service without yielding any portion of the
glorious heritage which, as travellers and geo-
graphers, seemed to be peculiarly their own. (Ap-
plause.)
The Duke of NEWCASTLE (to whom the Chair-
man presented the Patron's Gold Medal on behalf
lof Mr. John M'Douall Stuart, for his very remark-
able explorations in the interior of Australia, and
particularly for his last successful journey from
South Australia to the waterparting of Northern
Australia, as illustrated by his own maps) said it
afforded him great pldeasureto obey the .mvitation
of the President,
anxious to testify his Ashburton, to attend for that
purpose, for
two ore
society, of
ason.s—first, because he was
important society,
concurrence in the ob-
jneucmtsbolef tmheismber, and
the Imperial alsowhich he was a
to express on behalf of
the department over
and
Government,which
and more especially of
preside, their entire approvall
la
tlie had
tperseveringhe ahnodnoeunrtetro.
labours and exertions of that sympathy in the
enter-
prising explorer to whom that memorial
had been
awarded. Sir R. Murchison ha dll
former exploits of Captain Sturt
e'
theauded to the
Mr. Stuart in that field of enterP predecessor of
Duke of Newcastle) was sure there was n . Re
(the
who would feel less jealousy at the success ofo mar
Stuart than that eminent individual. Mr. Stuartr.
commenced his exploration under the auspices of Mr.
Chambers, who provided funds for that purpose. Re
returned in August, 1859, from one of his expedi-
tions, having reason to believe he should eventually
succeed in the object ho had in view. Starting
again with fresh means and appliances, he ulti-
mately succeeded in reaching a point 100 miles fur-
ther north than that to which Gregory had
penetrated, when he was stopped by the hostility of
the natives. He had travelled a distance of 3,000
miles and undergone great hardships, having, for
instance, on one occasion passed 111 hours without
water, under a burning sun ; and, although he had
been driven back by the natives, he might fairly be
considered to have accomplished the object he had
at heart, which was to strike the north coast some-
where near Cambridge Gulf. It would be out of place
at that moment to raise any controversy on such a sub-
ject, but the result of Mr. Stuart's exertions, and the
anticipations they held out for the future, convinced
him (the Duke of Newcastle) that the Government
had for the present done
right in not forcing colo-
nisation on the northern shores of Australia. He
anticipated that those shores would now very soon
become peopled, though there might be some diffe-
rence of opinion as to the best means
est meane by which that
could be done. The last account of Mr. Stuart was
that he was about to start again, and the only eirr

re-
gretted in connection with the expedition, upon
cumstance which he (the Duke of Newcastle)
which by this time Mr. Stuart must have entered,
was that be had gone alone, without scientific com-
panions. But he anticipated that Mr. Stuart would
be successful even without these companions, and
he should have great pleasure in transmitting the
society's medal to him, conscious as he was of the
eminent services which that gentleman had ren-
dered to geographical science, and to the colony
and his country at large. (Cheers.)
Sir It. MURCHISON said—As our respected and
noble president, who has truly the interests of
our body at heart, has been compelled to leave Lon-
don for the north of Scotland, on account of the
alarming illness of the noble chieftainess, his lady's
mother, whose loss, if it should 'occur, will grieve
many a Highlander besides myself, I am unexpec-
tedly called upon to resume my old place as your
president. I regret his absence the more because I
feel certain that if Lord Ashburton had been pre-
sent he would have efficiently directed your atten-
tion to subjects of practical usefulness and import-
ance which are intimately connected with the pro-
gress of this society. Adverting to the death of the
Earl of Aberdeen, who was oneof the fellows of the
society, and a great benefactor of it, Sir Roderick
said—This is not the place in which the higher
qualities and great characteristics of this distin-
guished statesman can be appropriately recorded.
It is not here that we are entitled to trace, as was
most eloquently done in a powerful daily journal,
the main features even of his career. The
enlargement of these topics must be left to the
pen of the historian. Nor are we capable of analys-
ing the merits of the antiquary, who at an early
period of his life obtained the cognomen of " the
Travelled Thane, Athenian Aberdeen"—the man
whose classic attainments and elegant appreciation
of the fine arts rendered him for so many years a
chosen arbiter in all matters of good taste, whether
in architecture or sculpture, and constituted in him
an invaluable trustee of the British Museum.
(Hear, hear.) We may, however, in common with
many of our countrymen, declare that this accom-
plished nobleman conducted the foreign relations
of this country with such dignity, urbanity, and
good sense as to have earned for him the love of all
our allies, and the profound respect of even our
enemies. With a somewhat formal exterior, Lord
Aberdeen was endowed with a warmth of heart
and largeness of views which few but his intimate
friends could appreciate. In this assembly it
is, indeed, gratifying to make it known that the
oldest of his friends was one of our Fellows, who
still survives and continues to diffuse knowledge
and comfort around him. This is that learned
benevolent, and excellent man, Hudson Gurney,
who was the companion of Lord Aberdeen in the
year 1803, when they travelled from Paris into
southern climes, and who kept up an intimate cor-
respondence with him through life. Just as every
foreign Sovereign with whom he had intercourse
honoured Lord Aberdeen, our gracious Queen so
deeply- felt his value as an enlightened, honest, and
firm friend ; that while during his life she gave
himsthe strongest proofs of her friendship, she also
honoured his obsequies with special marks of her
affection. (Hear, hear.) The feature, however, in
his truly liberal character which most distinctly con-
nects Lord Aberdeen with this society is that he was
the Prime Minister who upon my own representa-
tion perceived the desirableness of granting an an-
nual sum of money to maintain our society in per-
petuity, and in thus constituting it the map-office
of the nation. Admitting that no scientific body
could have stronger claims upon the consideration
of the Government, most willingly did he approve
of the motion of that honest economist, Joseph
Hume, at whose instigation the House of Commons
voted the grant which first enabled us to meet the
difficulties of a rising society, and which has since
been continued to us annually. I have often dwelt
on the good influence exercised under our pro-
sperity by the grant, as obtained upon the admi-
nistration of my illustrious and noble friend, for it
was the turning point of the great advance we were
destined to make; and although it be but a small
item in the many virtues of a great statesman, it
is one which will always endear the name of
Aberdeen to every geographer. (Hear, hear.)
Passing on, among other topics, to the exploration
of M. Du Chaillu in Western Equatorial Africa and
the," gorilla" district, Sir Roderick proceeded to say,
—Among the great desiderata which remained to
be worked out in South Africa, one of striking in-
terest, which was alluded to at our last anniversary,
has been answered by M. Du Chaillu, a Frenchman
by birth and education, and now a naturalised citi-
zen of New York. We have since had an opportu-
nity of hearing from the traveller himself an account
of his strange experience, of seeing his collection
of huge anthropoid apes, quadrupeds, reptilia, and
numerous birds, and of reading a detailed narrative
of his eventful wanderings. Livingstone was the
first to reveal to us the great and important
fact that the region of Central Africa, extending
northwards from the Cape Colony to 8 deg. of south
latitude, is a plateau—land occupiedby great lakes,
the waters of which, as previously suggested by
myself, would be found to escape-to the sea through
gorges in subtending mountain chains of greater
altitude than the central watery plains. Du
Chaillu; on his part, has so extended his adventu-
rous explorations from the Western Coast north
and south of the Equator as to describe for the first
time the complicated river drainage near the coast,
which he has laid down on a map, and also to demon-
strate that a lofty wooded chain extends so far into
the heart of the continent as apparently to form a
band of separation between Northern and Southern
Africa. In many a tract to the north of this
lofty zone Mahomedanism has extended its sway;
but to the south of it, in these meridians, no green
flag of the Prophet has yet been unfurled, while a
few zealous missionaries, living on the coasts under
the Equator and on both sides of the mouth of the
river Gaboon have found centres whence to propa-
gate the gospel of Christ. It was in one of those
seats of the missionaries that young Du Chaillu,
taken thither by his father, who traded in the pro-
ducts of the country, first learnt the rudiments of
the native language of the adjacent tribes, and ob-
tained sufficient information to induce him on his
return to his adopted home to fit himself out with
p
upon
r e se no tnse, mu
fe d
the
hc ien es a , nd a
boldest
venturesrm s, ad then nwhichmtaoneenvteerr
undertook. (Applause.) In vain had the mission-
aries and trading blacks dissuaded him from such
an undertaking by depicting to him the savage
character of the tribe of men (many of them canni-
bals) among whom he must trust himself, to say
nothing of the ferocity of the quadrupeds and the
impenetrable nature of the densely-wooded jungles
and forests he would have to traverse. An intense
love of natural history led him to plunge into these
hitherto unexplored wilds. The giant anthi opoid ape
gorilla, specimens of which had a few years only been
for the first time brought to Europe by traders on the
coast, was known to flourish in all his pristine vigour
in the interior, and many a curious quadruped
and bird were described as being common to that
region. The die was, therefore, resolutely cast by
the young naturalist, and, with a few black ear-
-1 riers and canoes, and without one white attendant,
he dashed into thickets where no European had
ever put his foot. Gaining the goodwill of chief
after chief, and being at length considered by their
sable majesties as a white spirit whose wrath
might be fatal to them, and whom they therefore
propitiated, he has been enabled, not merely to de-
scribe the singular habits of these people, but also
to make a sketch map of the region, and to define
the course of the chief rivers, both before and
after they unite in a network of streams as they
approach the coast. When at the extreme eastern
point of his tour, the information he derived from
the natives led him to believe that the rocky and
densely wooded mountains really extended for-so
great a distance to the east that they might be very
well supposed to send out embranchments into
those highlands north of the Uniayembe Lake of
Burton and Speke, which these authors called the
Mountains of the Moon. Including periods of re-
turn to his friends the missionaries on the coast,
and his voyages to and fro, he occupied nearly
four years in these arduous explorations, and got
together a greater quantity:of apes, quadrupeds, and
birds (many of them never before seen) than pro-
bably ever fell to the lot of any one traveller. It
is not our province here to estimate the relative
value of these animals, but we know that, in the
StoSouth
Africa,
but opinion of some of the first zoologists of Europe
stkmerica, M, Du Chan' has not only added greatly
opre-existing
ls ai
clubainy htaisnecleeawr iatnhdtahneimfaauttelda
of
descriptions, convinced
them that he has been as
close an eye-witness of the habits of the gorilla
and his associates as he proved himself to be their
successful assailant,
and(Applause.) Strikingly at-
tractivewonderful
as were his descriptions,
they all carry in themselvesfthi an impress of sub-
stantial truthfulness. O
the acquaintance of M. Du sno one who has formed
Chaillu, and looked into
met lu
hisopen countenance and •
sh • right and piercing
eye, can for a moment doubt. Bear.(
the faithful description of a region) Aware that
trava-
gently exuberant in many natural
and
inhabited by gigantic apes, and in one part by a
cannibal race, would probably be doubted by some
cavillers, M. Du Chaillu is quite prepared to meet
such objectors. He knows as well as we do that
many of the discoveries of Bruce in the last cen-
tury were repudiated and treated as fables. But,
with the advancement of geographical research,
the detractors of Bruce have had their own names
consigned to oblivion, while the wonderful and so-
called " travellers' tales" of the great Abyssinian
explorer have been verified by his followers. Know-
ledge is indeed much more diffused than in the days
of Bruce, and to the honour of the contemporary
press, the narrative of Du Chaillu has met with

one severe critic only, while all the weekly periodi-i
cals of the last fortnight and the great leading
journal, the Times, have treated his work with
that praise to which, in the opinion of Professor
Owen, as well as of many geographers, it is emi-
nently entitled. (Cheers.) His numerous friends
and admirers have now only to express a hope that
the work on Equatorial Africa may bring much
profit as well as reputation to the undaunted ex-
plorer, who, despite of numerous fevers, has gone
over some thousands of miles of hitherto unknown
lands, and has brought to us unanswerable evidence
of his fidelity of observation—evidence which the
council of this society has considerately allowed him
to exhibit to the public in our own apartments in
Whitehall-place.
In the evening the members of the society and a
considerable body of invited guests, to the number
in all of about 300, dined together at the Freema-
sons' Tavern.

SPORTING INTELLIGE.ATE.

THE DERBY.

The French Derby at Chantilly, from all we hear of it,
must have partaken more of the nature of a well-selected
fete champetre than a great national race. No noise was
there, we are told, of "discordant travelling bands," "no
pushing card seller," "no shouts, no riotous crowd." Even
bets were quietly booked, and the coe.ceurse, if we may apply
so rude a term to the elite of Paris, were ruled by a handful
of policemen. It must, of course, arise from a depravity of
taste on our part, but after hearing such a description we
confess to entertaining a strong opinion that the French
Derby must have been aAlull, slow, and solemn affair; and,
when the historian adds, in a moralising mood, that "it is
strange so small a slip of water shou'd keep up such a dif-
ference in the manners of two great nations," we feel, on
the whole, by no means remorseful, out rather inclined to
congratulate ourselves on being on the right side of the
water in this matter. Fancy Epsom Downs arranged
after the French style—bandless, niggerless, devoid
alike of sharpers and their prey, without tumblers, con-
jurors, organ grinders, gipsies, performing monkeys, or pre-
cocious children. Under such a regime in Surrey yesterday
what would have become of the sallow vagabonds who now
for a trifling consideration knock their battered visages
about in mimic repetition of the great Sayers contest ? Have
not that numerous and influential class who derive an inde-
pendence from tho patrons of Aunt Sally vested interests in
the ground ? Perhaps, under French arrangements. their
claims might be compromised by making them cheektakers,
to see that every one went to his proper seat round the
course, or enrolling them to act in a body under Mr. Super-
intendent Beaunash, to prevent any one not in evening
dress from entering the Grand Stand. With a few such
minor alterations and improvements, such as making blue)
veils and little dolls misdemeanours, and " three throws a
penny" felony, without benefit of clergy, the Downs might
be made a most orderly place, and even invalids go down to
Epsom to drink its celebrated salts, and afterwards witness
a mild and dispassionate Derby frmi their easy chairs.
Yesterday, however, there seemed net the remotest disposi-
tion to approach this beau ideal of a French race. There
was shouting and noise and pushing card••sellers, while the
bands were certainly more numeroas, and, if possible, more
discordant than ever, amid the din of which one was only
able to discern that by far the greater number supported
" Dixie's Land," though a formidable minority rallied
round " Bob Ridley," and rather spoiled the general effect of
both. The road down was as crowded and dusty as the road
always is on a Derby-day, which is saying a very great deal
in a very few words. The great southern centre of bustle
and confusion, the Elephant and Castle, was as thronged
and as beset as ever. Everything seemed to muster there
previous to starting, from swell drags, crowded outside
with fast young men, and inside with turnip radishes with
which to pelt the lieges coming back; there, too, aspiring
clerks assembled and donned blue veils preparatory to going
quietly down by rail ; and there also were young fellows who
had so anticipated matters as even thus early in the morning
to require ahelping hand to steady them on the oofs of busses.
Foreigners ascribe our great metropolitan exodus on the
Derby • day to the national love of racing, which we all know
is moonshine. If all the Downs were polled yesterday
three-fourths would rather have missed seeing the race than
seeing the road.

What, in the name of goodness, would the race be with-
out the road to it, and the pie-nics and little parties, and
the not little hampers? The Derby-day is, in fact, Lon-
don's carnival and great day out. It is looked forward to
as such, and the race, pc se, is a mere item of amusement,
to which the dust, hurry, confusion, noise, whirl, laughter,
champagne, raised pies, salads, and fowls are all recessary
adjuncts. It is rather the fashion to say that the glories of
the road are falling off, though, to our mind, as far as the
style and number of equipages go, they seem to increase
each year, and never were they greater than yesterday.
Through Clapham, where, as usual, all the upper windows
were stuccoed over with babies and nurslings, and the
drawingrooms and gardens filled with the brightest of belles,
who made believe not to notice the passers-by, the stream
of vehicles was dense and apparently interminable. Nor
was it a whit less varied than numerous. Everything that
could go on wheels, and very many also, as the event proved,
that could not, seemed pressed into the service. •Postchaises
that had done duty any time these months past as pigeon
roosts in the worst inn's worst yard came clattering along,
the horses, ♦warranted three inrts blood and the other corn,
indulging in an imperfect recollection of r. canter; a feeble
reminiscence which the old postillion fosters to the utmost
by rising in his saddle now acid then as if the animals really
galloped. These, however, though slow, are sure, and, in
the event of surviving the journey down, are more to be
relied upon than the gay animal that is put to with his fore
leg tied up, and will is ertain to come out in his true
colours on the first favourabb opportunity. This, unfor-
tunately, he is sure to find in the narrowest part of the
road, where the bewildered diver can only fall back upon
the advice, tendered in penmptory directions, to " pull
a' one side," or in sarcastic reminders that " the coachman"
must come out next time, as he is sure to be wanted in the
hayfield—observations which occasion a state of mind quite
unsuitable to administering ai the eccentricities of a jib
horse. We have often wondered where all the bad horses
come from on a Derby day, mid how it is that such very
unexceptionable turns-out cow." to grief, or, in polite par-
lance, are " plunged in desponOency," while a costermonger
with all his family in a nckett: barrow, and a select party
of immediate relatives on the 'hafts, gets down safely and
in good time too. Such, however, is too often the fact,
and some especially neat gets-tp were yesterday backed off
the road into a hedge, leaving their disconsolate occupants
no other alternative, if they wished to reach the Downs,
save that of getting into the shafts themselves. At the
Merton pike there was the useal obstruction, annoyance,
and delay. When will some ore devise a method bywhich
this intolerable nuisance may le mitigated or at least its
avoidance compounded for:
The Downs were crowded to an extent that we have sel-
dom seen. The hill opposite the stand and far past the
' paddock, and up on the left to the "corner," was one dense
black mass of carriages and people—a houselese population
as numerous in its crowds and as varied in its elements as
that of the metropolis itself. It was a real Derby gathering,
and, if possible, a Derby gathering exaggerated with all its
queer nielailge of high and low—blacklegs and lords, card-
sharpers and countrymen, gentlemen and ladies, knaves,
fools, showmen, holiday folks, foreigners, trampers, lame,
halt, and blind ; all, in shalt, whom toil or money could
bring toga ther near London, and what does that not com-
prise? Here is a blind man reading the Scripture, while
near him two other blind men led by dogs are playing so
vehemently on whistles as unconsciously to drown his
voice ; beyond these is a juvenile band whose performances
one cannot overlook or pardon, even on account of their
youth, and to these, after a brief interval of Aunt Sallys
and cocoa-nuts, succeeds a conjuror, apparently swallow-
ing whole reams of coloured paper, and whose hard case
we earnestly recommend to hon. members in the approach-
ing discussion on paper duties as a novel illustration of the
manner in which this impost presses on some consumers.

Towards two o'clock the huge concourse begins to settle
down, and the " business" of the day begins, on the part of
the public with lunch, and on the part of that small mino-
rity, the " racing public," with prepirations for what is
never mentioned at Epsom but as "the great event."
In the matters incident to this latter we might fairly take
a hint from the French Derby, where, we hear, the riders
are weighed in a pretty and convenient kind of sum mer-
house. Under the Grand Stand is a sort of disused wine-
cellar, whitewashed clean enough, but as small, as ill-
placed, and as inconvenient as can well be imagined. Here
the visitor finds himself among apparently a new race of
pigmy men, with their gay-coloured silks shining brightly
underneath great overcoats, who converse by winks and
nudges of the elbow, and who, with bridle and saddle round
their necks, proceed with solemn gravity to scat themselves
in the scales and test in an amateur manner their precise
weight before weighing by the proper authorities. There
is nothing in the whole proceeding that is of interest, ex-
cept as suggestive of being capable of much improvement
in regard to the vault where it takes place. From the
weighing-room there is always a general move to the pa'-
dock, the cool quiet of which pretty meadow comes in like
a rest after the turmoil of the course. There is an odd
muster always here—peers, trainers, jockeys, owners,
backers, betters, all more or less engaged with note-making
on little slips of paper or small books, and all on the look-
out for authorities, "horsey" men, and what not. A queei -
looking man, wko ;0 attire, though good, is "slangy," and
suggestive somehow of the stable, approaches the largest
group and says something., at which they disperse as if a
shell had burst among them :—" Dundee has been cough-
ing.," and in a minute every one is commencing either
to get the odds or give them, and at the mention
of he' favourite's name puts on a grave air and looks
on the first glance
out in the distance, as if Dundee had eaten his groom,
and his name was rather a painful subject than otherwise.
A minute after and there is a great rush made as if the as-
semblage were fielding at cricket, and a brown, leggy horse
stalks in with such a very little stable boy on his back that
Soon(ehaofrtseer afterwards, mean,ds, t yaablireing,hatndtwo
you would imagine people were going to
onuogtht the
t little
im boy)e
ti.h assistance lest he should fall off and be killed. This
minutes after Itoyalieu is nowhere ill the betting books.
chest-
nut colt comes into the field, light, yet powerful in its step,
holding its head Well up, with a full inquiring sort of eye
it: lily:

and wide tremulous nostril. There is rather a movemen t
made towards him, till the word is passed from mouth to
mouth, when the followers at once drop off, and it turns into
a corner of the meadow, almost unattended save by a few
determined admirers. it is not Diophantus, not even Rouge
Dragon—it is only Kettledrum, who is forthwith consigned
to a betting limbo almost as deep as that of Royalieu.
Another dreadful rumour, and a good horse is reported bad
in the hocks just as Dictator, Klarikoff, and the Dragon
make their appearance. Dictator, a beautiful and powerful
colt, rises in the market, and Klarikofl is quoted at an im-
provement, with a tendency to go up, all of which his superb
appearance justified. All this while Kettledrum walks
round in a corner with Yorkminster, the Drake, Kildonan,
and others almost as good, and quite as unnoticed. Every
one is waiting for the favourites, and at last they enter from
opposite hides of the paddock, Diophantus, an exquisite
chestnut colt, and Dundee, if possible, a still more beautiful
black. Their condition was the perfection of training; their
skins glistened with the sheen of silk, and eve. y muscle of
their bodies stood out in smooth, broad bands that seemed
to expand with power at each movement. Diophantus
was the most admired, as, with a lithe soft step, he came
into the paddock neighing and tossing his head, looking
round upon his rivals with a high, disdainful air, as one
who should say, " Cave, chum." The rumoured cough
of Dundee was still echoing round the paddock, so
that other horses were, in racing terms, "inquired
after," though, nevertheless, both favourites kept ahead
of all. Their appearance, as we have said, justified this
preference, for two finer animals have never been beaten at
the Derby.

Gently, and with the utmost care, the process of saddling
for the race was gone through ; though, quietly as it was
managed, there were some horses whom it appeared to
alarm and distress, and whom Mr. Rare), would have sad-
dled more quietly, though perhaps with more time. Time,
however, on a Derby day is more than money; it is name
and fame as well to both horse and owner, and when the
boll is clanging and the course all but cleared, there are but
very few minutes to spare. Only 18 horses started yester-
day, in number certainly a falling off compared with other
years, when sometimes there were as many as 30 starters.
They came out from the paddock in a little knot out upon
the course amid the great mass of spectators, and, instinc-
tively, all broke into a canter and then a gallop. The course
was not quite cleared. There were the traditional dogs
(three this time) who ran an impromptu Derby of their own,
howled at and worried into incipient rabies. There was the
stout gentleman, too, whom no ono would let under the
ropes, sweltering up the greensward amid derisive shouts to
"Ge in and win I" " What were the odds against him F"
and ironical queries as to whether he is to ride Mr. Spur-
geon's horse. But the noise stops as Dundee goes down like
a hind moving over the turf with a long silent stride like the
shadow of a horse. No one notices Kettledrum, but Rouge
Dragon makes a great spurt and becomes popular among
the "know-nothings." In a few minutes after the colours
assemble at the starting-post, and go suddenly up the hill,
amid a hoarse cry of "They're off!" and " Hats off I" But
the course bell gives no sign, and after a minute of intense
expectation they come back again. Another start and the
Derby has begun as the little mass disappears behind the
hill. Yet another minute for last feverish bets and the group
emerges upon the horizon, all well together, like a group of
flowers. The pace seems tremendous, yet all keep well up
to the corner, when the leaders draw ahead; the hum
deepens into a roar as the colours of Dundee and Diophan-
tus seem well in front—every one waves something as
they rush thundering up the course—the jockeys call on
their horses, who make desperate efforts. At the last an
unknown horse is leading, but the favourites rush in with
a pace that puts their backers quite at ease, and the race is
over in a minute, and No. 8 goes up at the post, and the
winner is—Kettledrum.