The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1885-11-12
OUR NEW YORK LETTER.
From Our Regular Correspondent
NEW YnRK Nov. z. 1885.


From our Regular Correspondent
New York, Nov. Z, 1885.
The season which has just closed has
been one of the most remarkable for
horse. racing that ne have had for many
years not SO much for the superior
character of the horses as the great num-
bers of all sorts of people that have at
tended them. Pool selling is forbidden
by law, but pools have been sold on every
race since the commencement of the sea-
son; not blacklegs and professional
gamblers only have put up their money
on the result, but fine ladies have been
seen day after day stalking hundreds and
hundreds on the races. Now, when l say
fine ladies mean it; I do not mean the
questionable consorts Of sporting men,
who wear fine diamonds, rich silks, cost
ly furs, and camel's hair shawls, but re-
spectacle wives and honored mothers,
who have attended the races every day
this season rain or shine. When the
races opened at Sheepshead Bay early in
the Spring, lady and her daughter ap-
peared on the Grand Stand. There was
nothing loud or unbecoming about them ;
they made no acquaintances, male or
female; they conducted themselves with
the most perfect propriety, but they
would bet their money on the races.
Both mother and daughter had book,
and each made it up after careful re-
view of the horses. They never seemed
to exchange notes, but each played o
lone hand on her own judgment. Losses
were paid with the GOODNESS of an ice
berg, and winnings were raked in with a
nonchalance that would have moved the
heart of Sir Charles Coldstream with
envy. At Jerome Park, where Crnsus
scatters his gold upon the turf, these two
women we're the observed of all obser-
vers, and that is saying great deal, for
on the Grand Stand at Jerome Park,
may be seen on any good racing day,
much of the beauty and fashion of which
New York boasts. There we're many
races this season when the rain fell and
the wind blew, and none but the tough
est old sport could face the weather; but
every day from first to last Mrs. L. and
her blooming daughter we're there, and
they occupied their favorite seats on the
front in the middle of the Grand Stand
the last racing day. fcould learn moth.
ing about them, except that they were
from the South-that they occupied mag
njfceDt apartments in a splendid uptown
Aat-that they had lots of money and no
acquaintances, and were passionately
fond ofgood horses. A sharp bookmaker
told me that the old lady had bsgged
about fifteen thousand dollars, and the
daughter about five.
uOne afternoon I saw l9dy take off
her magnificent diamond brooch, earrings,
and finger rings, to bet on race. Fortu.
nately for her she won, and walked off
with thousand dollars.
We are fond of moralizing on our
splendid advantages and our superior
civilization. We deprecate Spanish
Bullfght, and we execrate and condemn
the Gladiatorial slaughters of the Ro.
mans. We wonder that any race of men
and women could ever have existed with
nerves of steel and hearts of stone, and
who could sit by and see fellow crea-
ture slaughtered without quiyer. Yet
only week ago there was a splendid
company at jerome Park beauty, fash.
ion and wealth we're there. On the turf
amid the fashionable equipages might be
seen the gay turnouts of FIVE or six we'll
known preachers, who never take dust
on the boulevard from anything under
2:25. The day was damp and cloudy,
and the course heavy and wet; these
however, were only mere incidents, and
were weighed with regard to the betting.
The Jockeys are all mounted, and a gal
liant looking crew they were on their an
imals, lank as greyhounds with hides
like FURNISHED gold. Everything is at
fever heat, the horses champ and feel as
if eager to be of, and the sharp eyed
youngsters on their backs are watching
every chance for an opening. Tie Gag
is dropped and away they sweep like
lightning. In all of that wild excited
throng there is not one that thinks of
danger, all are bent on victory-behind
that victory are the loud shouts of ap-
plaudiug thousands and yellow shining
gold. Men and women are worked to a
phrenzy of madness. On they sweep
and now they are at the turn-then
comes wild cry of pain, and in an in
slant dozen horses and riders are on
the ground rolling over and over in mad
confusion. The winners hurry on to the
Grand Stand, and dash under the string,
while the shouts of the crazed tbrong
reud the air. On the far side of the
track lay six mangled wretches, one
already dead, and some of the others
dying. The rough friends of the dead
Jockey Ia fair haired little fellow bore
him tenderly to the stable, and laid him
on the straw, but his young life has gone
out for the amusement of the fine ladies
and gentlemen who fill the Grand Stand,
and the blacklegs and sporting men who
are now loudly calling for the second
race. Few, if any think Of the dead
and mangled boys lying on the stable
floor; sacrificed, unthinkingly as ever
Gladiator was butchered to grace q Ro-
man holiday. Several jockeys have been
killed at Jerome Park and Sheepshead
Bay this season, and a number wounded;
but be it recorded to the honor of our ex-
alted civilization, that the death or
wounding of q jockey, or the broken
neck or limbs of a horse, has never
stopped race. Let us moralize no more
on Spanish Bullfghts or Roman holidays.
The art season is upon us again. The
artists who hayo been sketching in the
mountains and the valleys arc back home
with their portfolios full and some of
the new canvasses are of SURPRISING
merit. The exhibition of water color5
at the rooms of the Society Of Fine Arts
on 23rd Street, is the best water color
exhibition that we have had in New
York; we are also making wonderful
progress in black and white. 1t is only
O few years since the first attempt at