Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour
Page 67
CHAPTER LXVII
HOW THEY GOT UP THE 'GRAND ARISTOCRATIC STEEPLE-CHASE'
There is no saying what advantages railway communication may confer upon acountry. But for the Granddiddle Junction, ----shire never would have had asteeple-chase--an 'Aristocratic,' at least--for it is observable that themore snobbish a thing is, the more certain they are to call itaristocratic. When it is too bad for anything, they call it 'Grand.' Well,as we said before, but for the Granddiddle Junction, ----shire would neverhave had a 'Grand Aristocratic Steeple-Chase.' A few friends or farmersmight have got up a quiet thing among themselves, but it would never haveseen a regular trade transaction, with its swell mob, sham captains, andall the paraphernalia of odd laying, 'secret tips,' and market rigging. Whowill deny the benefit that must accrue to any locality by the infusion ofall the loose fish of the kingdom?
Formerly the prize-fights were the perquisite of the publicans. They it waswho arranged for Shaggy Tom to pound Harry Billy's nob upon So-and-so'sland, the preference being given to the locality that subscribed the mostmoney to the fight. Since the decline of 'the ring,' steeple-chasing, andthat still smaller grade of gambling--coursing, have come to their aid.Nine-tenths of the steeple-chasing and coursing-matches are got up byinn-keepers, for the good of their houses. Some of the town publicans,indeed, seem to think that the country was just made for their matches tocome off in, and scarcely condescend to ask the leave of the landowners.
We saw an advertisement the other day, where a low publican, in amanufacturing town, assured the subscribers to his coursing-club that hewould take care to select open ground, with 'plenty of stout hares,' as ifall the estates in the neighbourhood were at his command. Anotheradvertised a steeple-chase in the centre of a good huntingcountry--'amateur and gentleman riders'--with a half-crown ordinary at theend! Fancy the respectability of a steeple-chase, with a half-crownordinary at the end!
Our 'Aristocratic' was got up on the good-of-the-house principle. Whateverbenefit the Granddiddle Junction conferred upon the country at large, ithad a very prejudicial effect upon the Old Duke of Cumberland Hotel andPosting House, which it left, high and dry, at an angle sufficiently nearto be tantalized by the whirr and the whistle of the trains, and yet toofar off to be benefited by the parties they brought. This oncewell-accustomed hostelry was kept by one Mr. Viney, a former butler in theScattercash family, and who still retained the usual 'old and faithfulservant' _entree_ of Nonsuch House, having his beefsteak and bottle of winein the steward's room whenever he chose to call. Viney had done good at theOld Duke of Cumberland; and no one, seeing him 'full fig,' would recognize,in the solemn grandeur of his stately person, the dirty knife-boy who hadfilled the place now occupied by the still dirtier Slarkey. But the days ofroad travelling departed, and Viney, who, beneath the Grecian-columnedportico of his country-house-looking hotel, modulated the ovations of hiscauliflower head to every description of traveller--from the lordlyoccupant of the barouche-and-four, down to the humble sitter in a gig--wascut off by one fell swoop from all further traffic. He was extinguishedlike a gaslight, and the pipe was laid on a fresh line.
Fortunately Mr. Viney was pretty warm; he had done pretty well; and havingenjoyed the intimacy of the great 'Jeames' of railway times, had got a hintnot to engage the hotel beyond the opening of the line. Consequently, henow had the great house for a mere nothing until such times as the ownercould convert it into that last refuge for deserted houses--an academy, ora 'young ladies' seminary.' Mr. Viney now, having plenty of leisure,frequently drove his 'missis' (once a lady's maid in a quality family) upto Nonsuch House, as well for the sake of the airing--for the road waspleasant and picturesque--as to see if he could get the 'little trifle' SirHarry owed him for post-horses, bottles of soda-water, and such trifles ascountry gentlemen run up scores for at their posting-houses--scores thatseldom get smaller by standing. In these excursions Mr. Viney made theacquaintance of Mr. Watchorn; and a huntsman being a character with whomeven the landlord of an inn--we beg pardon, hotel and posting-house--mayassociate without degradation, Viney and Watchorn became intimate. Watchornsympathized with Viney, and never failed to take a glass in passing, eitherat exercise or out hunting, to deplore that such a nice-looking house, so'near the station, too,' should be ruined as an inn. It was after a morethan usual libation that Watchorn, trotting merrily along with the hounds,having accomplished three blank days in succession, asked himself, as helooked upon the surrounding vale from the rising ground of Hammercock Hill,with the cream-coloured station and the rose-coloured hotel peeping throughthe trees, whether something might not be done to give the latter a lift.At first he thought of a pigeon match--a sweepstake open to allEngland--fifty members say, at two pound ten each, seven pigeons, sevensparrows, twenty-one yards rise, two ounces of shot, and so on. But then,again, he thought there would be a difficulty in getting guns. A coursingmatch--how would that do? Answer: 'No hares.' The farmers had made such anoutcry about the game, that the landowners had shot them all off, and nowthe farmers were grumbling that they couldn't get a course.
'Dash my buttons!' exclaimed Watchorn; 'it would be the very thing for asteeple-chase! There's old Puff's hounds, and old Scamp's hounds, and thesehounds,' looking down on the ill-sorted lot around him; 'and the deuce isin it if we couldn't give the thing such a start as would bring down thelads of the "village," and a vast amount of good business might be done.I'm dashed if it isn't the very country for a steeple-chase!' continuedWatchorn, casting his eye over Cloverly Park, round the enclosure ofLangworth Grange, and up the rising ground of Lark Lodge.
The more Watchorn thought of it, the more he was satisfied of itsfeasibility, and he trotted over, the next day, to the Old Duke ofCumberland, to see his friend on the subject. Viney, like most victuallers,was more given to games of skill--billiards, shuttlecock, skittles,dominoes, and so on--than to the rude out-of-door chances of flood andfield, and at first he doubted his ability to grapple with the details; buton Mr. Watchorn's assurance that he would keep him straight, he gave Mrs.Viney a key, desiring her to go into the inner cellar, and bring out abottle of the green seal. This was ninety-shilling sherry--very good stuffto take; and, by the time they got into the second bottle, they had gotinto the middle of the scheme too. Viney was cautious and thoughtful. Hehad a high opinion of Watchorn's sagacity, and so long as Watchorn confinedhimself to weights, and stakes, and forfeits, and so on, he was content toleave himself in the hands of the huntsman; but when Watchorn came to talkof 'stewards,' putting this person and that together, Viney's experiencecame in aid. Viney knew a good deal. He had not stood twisting a napkinnegligently before a plate-loaded sideboard without picking up a good manywaifs and strays in the shape of those ins and outs, those likings anddislikings, those hatreds and jealousies, that foolish people let fall sofreely before servants, as if for all the world the servants weresideboards themselves; and he had kept up his stock of service-gainedknowledge by a liberal, though not a dignity-compromising intercourse--forthere is no greater aristocrat than your out-of-livery servant--among theupper servants of all the families in the neighbourhood, so that he knew toa nicety who would pull together, and who wouldn't, whose name it would notdo to mention to this person, and who it would not do to apply to beforethat.
Neither Watchorn nor Viney being sportsmen, they thought they had nothingto do but apply to two friends who were; and after thinking over who huntedin couples, they were unfortunate enough to select our Flat Hat friends,Fyle and Fossick. Fyle was indignant beyond measure at being asked to besteward to a steeple-chase, and thrust the application into the fire; whileFossick just wrote below, 'I'll see you hanged first,' and sent it backwithout putting even a fresh head on the envelope. Nothing daunted,however, they returned to the charge, and without troubling the reader withunnecessary detail, we think it will be generally admitted that they atlength made an excellent selection in Mr. Puffington, Guano, and TomWashball.
MR. VINEY AND MR. WATCHORN GETTING UP 'THE GRANDARISTOCRATIC']
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br /> Fortune favoured them also in getting a locality to run in, for TimothyScourgefield, of Broom Hill, whose farm commanded a good circular threemiles of country, with every variety of obstacle, having thrown up hislease for a thirty-per-cent reduction--a giving up that had been mostunhandsomely accepted by his landlord--Timothy was most anxious to pay himoff by doing every conceivable injury to the farm, than which nothing canbe more promising than having a steeple-chase run over it. Scourgefield,therefore, readily agreed to let Viney and Watchorn do whatever they liked,on condition that he received entrance-money at the gate.
The name occupied their attention some time, for it did not begin as the'Aristocratic.' The 'Great National,' the 'Grand Naval and Military,' the'Sports-man,' the 'Talli-ho,' the 'Out-and-Outer,' the 'Swell,' were allconsidered and canvassed, and its being called the 'Aristocratic' at lengthturned upon whether they got Lord Scamperdale to subscribe or not. This wasaccomplished by a deferential call by Mr. Viney upon Mr. Spraggon, with alittle bill for three pound odd, which he presented, with the most urgentrequest that Jack wouldn't think of it then--any time that was mostconvenient to Mr. Spraggon--and then the introduction of the neatly-headedsheet-list. It was lucky that Viney was so easily satisfied, for poor Jackhad only thirty shillings, of which he owed his washerwoman eight, and hewas very glad to stuff Viney's bill into his stunner jacket-pocket, andapply himself exclusively to the contemplated steeple-chase.
Like most of us, Jack had no objection to make a little money; and as hesquinted his frightful eyes inside out at the paper, he thought over whathorses they had in the stable that were like the thing; and then he soundedViney as to whether he would put him one up for nothing, if he could inducehis lordship to send. This, of course, Viney readily assented to, and againrequesting Jack not to _think_ of his little bill till it was _perfectly_convenient to him--a favour that Jack was pretty sure to accord him--Mr.Viney took his departure, Jack undertaking to write him the result. Thenext day's post brought Viney the document--unpaid, of course--with a great'Scamperdale' scrawled across the top; and forthwith it was decided thatthe steeple-chase should be called the 'Grand Aristocratic.' Other namesquickly followed, and it soon assumed an importance. Advertisementsappeared in all the sporting and would-be sporting papers, headed with theimposing names of the stewards, secretary, and clerk of the course, Mr.Viney. The 'Grand Aristocratic Stakes,' of 20 sovs. each, half-forfeit, andL5 only if declared, &c. The winner to give two dozen of champagne to theordinary, and the second horse to save his stake. Gentlemen riders (titledones to be allowed 3 lb.). Over about three miles of fine hunting country,under the usual steeple-chase conditions.
Then the game of the 'Peeping Toms,' and 'Sly Sams,' and 'Infallible Joes,'and 'Wideawake Jems,' with their tips and distribution of prints began; Tomcounselling his numerous and daily increasing clients to get well on to No.9, Sardanapalus (the Bart., as Watchorn called him), while 'Infallible Joe'recommended his friends and patrons to be sweet on No. 6 (Hercules), and'Wide-awake Jem' was all for something else. A gentleman who took thetrouble of getting tips from half a dozen of them, found that no two ofthem agreed in any particular. What information to make books upon!
'But what good,' as our excellent friend Thackeray eloquently asks, 'evercame out of, or went into, a betting book? If I could be CALIPHOMAR for a week,' says he, 'I would pitch every one of thosedespicable manuscripts into the flames; from my-lord's, who is "in" withJack Snaffle's stable, and is overreaching worse-informed rogues, andswindling greenhorns, down to Sam's, the butcher's boy, who bookseighteen-penny odds in the tap-room, and stands to win five-and-twentybob.' We say ditto to that, and are not sure that we wouldn't hang a 'leg'or a 'list' man or two into the bargain.
Watchorn had a prophet of his own, one Enoch Wriggle, who, having tried hishand unsuccessfully first at tailoring, next as an accountant, then in thewatercress, afterwards in the buy ''at-box, bonnet-box,' and lastly in thestale lobster and periwinkle line, had set up as an oracle on turf matters,forwarding the most accurate and infallible information to flats inexchange for half-crowns, heading his advertisements, 'If it be a sin tocovet honour, I am the most offending soul alive!' Enoch did a considerablestroke of business, and couched his advice in such dubious terms, asgenerally to be able to claim a victory whichever way the thing went. Sothe 'offending soul' prospered; and from scarcely having shoes to his feet,he very soon set up a gig.