A GENERATION has arisen that knew not (Sir) Joseph, but for the survivors of the one that did Mr. Porter's vivid reminiscences of his stable make us, after the manner of the Shakespearian chorus Think when he talks of horses that we see them Into an hour-glass. We are carried back in memory to Newmarket, Ascot, and other courses whose turf received the imprint of those proud hoofs; and most interesting is it, with these revelations of home doings before us, to follow the clue thus given, and see how far were foreshadowed the public results of private efforts, or, to put it simply, note what a master craftsman was Sir Joseph at trying, placing, and backing his horses, and how, in his case at any rate, wisdom was for the most part justified of her children. In order to make this sufficiently clear to those who may not have read Kingsclere,' it will be best to quote verbatim from that work wherever the trials are given-it is much to be regretted that there are so few of them. In 1867 Porter, whose only employer was then Sir Joseph Hawley, had amongst others under his charge three two-yearolds, Rosicrucian, Blue Gown, and Green Sleeve, and an old trial horse, Xi, about the top of the handicap tree as a sprinter, and in Porter's judgment one of the most absolutely trustworthy animals for putting a question that ever was stripped. He always got at the truth, and it was in consequence of a very satisfactory spin with him-curiously omitted from the book-that early in the above-mentioned year Sir Joseph resolved to run Blue Gown at the Ascot Spring Meeting-which, by the way, had only been started the previous year, and was not renewed after the one in question. On the principle of the more the merrier, Xi and Satyr went to keep the two-year-old company, and each of the three won a race; in the case of Blue Gown, though it was his maiden effort, his reputation had preceded him, and the odds were 6 to 4 on him. Perhaps it would be better to say here at once, before going further into the story of those far-off days, that Mr. Byron Webber, who is Porter's collaborator and interpreter, would have done wisely to have left betting alone-i.e. to have refrained from giving details or indeed touching upon Sir Joseph's transactions in that line. It is no part of a trainer's duty to know anything about his employer's betting, and, as Sir Joseph was not a communicative man, Porter probably knew very little of that part of the business-anyhow what Mr. Webber says as to the wagering is generally wrong. One or two instances will suffice. Naturally he alludes, though only incidentally, to Argonaut's City and Suburban in 1865, and says 'the stable were not at all sanguine, a conclusion at which he arrives from the starting price-25 to 1. Now as a matter of fact Sir Joseph was very sanguine indeed, and he was his own stable' if ever a man was in the world. The story is rather a curious one, as illustrating the virtue and reward of patience. His commissioner, whose task was a heavy one, having sounded the Ring, was satisfied that they had not laid, wanted to lay, but were not yet up to the 33 to 1 mark at which he aimed. Up went the numbers, and still he made no sign. Sir Joseph returned from the paddock, sought him out, and said, 'Well, is it on?' 'Not a penny,' was the reply. Then there was an outburst. 'What are you about? I shall win, and win nothing-the old story. My fathers! (a favourite adjuration), &c. &c. He was told, Make yourself easy; it will be all right.' And he returned growling to the Admiral's stand. Meanwhile the horses had gone to the post, and, not withstanding his assurance, the commissioner began to be a trifle nervous. So he once more approached the bookmakers, who at last, not at all wishing to miss the horse, opened out, and laid a few thousands to thirty. At that moment there was a cry of 'They're off,' and it did look as if the Baronet was to be justified in his pessimism. It was, however, a false start and alarm, and, to cut the story short, before the flag fell the whole of the commission was executed at the satisfactory average of over 25 to 1. Argonaut won, and Sir Joseph descended still fuming from his perch, rushed up to his friend, and began at once: Of course I'm not on-won nothing, of course?' but the answer, Every shilling is on, and at a much better price than you deserve for your impatience and want of faith,' quickly turned mourning into joy, and once more everything was couleur de cherry. Again, the story of Satyr's Hunt Cup is wonderful enough, but it is not the case, as Mr. Webber declares it to be, that the horse was sent to Ascot for hedging purposes, though hedging was found impossible, for he was not backed at all by Sir Joseph till about two hours before the start for the race, when a fair price. ranging from 20 to 12 to 1 was realised. Satyr was undoubtedly infirm, but is not his condition just a little exaggerated? Moreover, it is not at all within my recollection of Sir Joseph's character that he was a man to go in for the sort of hedging thus attributed to him, which in fact would amount to little less than laying against one out of his own stable that he knew to have no chance. The bet made with Mr. Chaplin at Sir F. Johnstone's dinnerparty-Palmer v. Hermit-was 20,000l., not 50,000l., as stated by Mr. Webber, a difference which may seem hardly worth cavil— on paper-but becomes very material on settling day. Furthermore, the Champagne Stakes' starting price was not 2 to 1 on Blue Gown but 2 to 1 against. Sir Joseph had 1,000l. on at 5 to 2; still, the 3,600l. which Wells cost him on that occasion comes tolerably near to Mr. Webber's figure. The But enough has been said to prove the contention that the authors of Kingsclere' would have done well to leave the betting book out of their records. Let us return to the mighty pair, the Dioscuroi of Kingsclere-Rosicrucian and Blue Gown. latter's next effort was not a success, for at Bath he was beaten by Lady Elizabeth and Grimston, who were both real flyers then. What a roar there was when her ladyship just got home! There could be no doubt that Danebury and Badminton had the claque on their side, and what a rush the Hastingsites made to the Duke's luncheon room to drink the winner's health! To do them justice, they were always ready for that-win or lose. Blue Gown's running-he was third-was quite good enough to tell them at home what they wanted to know about Rosicrucian, who acquitted himself so well in the trial that Sir Joseph, who had a special partiality for maiden plates, entered him for the one which invariably formed part of Tuesday's programme at the Ascot Summer Meeting. There were twentytwo starters, but the public, as usual, knew as much or more than the owner, and declaring themselves on at once, the betting actually opened at 2 to 1 against Rosicrucian. Sir F. Johnstone, then a very heavy bettor, soon came to the rescue of the market with a horse called Banditto, and Sir Joseph at last contrived to invest his monkey at 4 to 1 or a trifle over. Wells had the mount, and appeared to be winning in a canter, when in the last few strides he was nearly caught by Lord Stamford's Charnwood, owing to the saddle slipping round, or, as the jockey put it: 'I finished on the horse's back, and the saddle was under his belly.' It did not so appear to the spectators, and Wells was ever a little prone to the picturesque in narrative. Blue Gown followed up the luck by easily defeating his erstwhile conqueror Grimston, on whom they laid 6 to 4, in the Fernhill, and Sir Joseph from that moment became convinced that he had a real good horse in Rosicrucian, a belief from which it is well known nothing ever made him swerve for an instant. The next appearance of Blue Gown was at Doncaster in the historical Champagne Stakes, the weighing-in for which Mr. Webber describes most graphically, though he does not mention the excellent advice given by one of the crowd.' It was a very hot day, the little weighing room was crammed with excited on-lookers, and Wells as he sat in the scales, knowing and dreading what was to come, fairly dripped with perspiration, when an encouraging voice from the back shouted, Sit tight, Tiny, you'll soon be the right weight.' Unluckily sufficient time. was not allowed for the Turkish bath; at that instant the Admiral strode in, the fatal 2 lb. was placed in the scale, and-bump went Wells. Rous, on the spur of the moment, exclaiming in his most majestic manner, Seven pounds over weight, I should think.' Now this random utterance, as such utterances often do, took hold of men's minds. It was more than once quoted by the newspapers during the winter, the public caught on to it, and it had considerable effect in causing their persistent backing of Blue Gown for the Derby; the fact that on the Friday in that Doncaster week he had in Custance's hands been easily beaten by Pace, Courtmantle, and others, and was last of the lot, influenced his admirers not at all; they merely said that Wells was the only jockey who could ride him. Then came the preparation for that marvellous Newmarket campaign, and the trial thus fully given in 'Kingsclere' : A length, five lengths, and a length being the separating distances. With no wish to be hypercritical, it is yet impossible to overlook Mr. Webber's vagueness as to Xi's age. He is described as two years old in 1866, but in 1867 he becomes six years and four years old, which latter he actually was. Anyhow, his private and public form were unimpeachable, so that allowing 3 lb. for a length, Rosicrucian came out actually 3 lb. better than the old one, and Green Sleeve only 6 lb. worse. Truly an incredible smartness, had not subsequent performances proved it to be correct. Without needlessly dilating on the series of triumphs during what must have been the best week Sir Joseph ever had, for are they not written in the book of 'Kingsclere '? one or two little items I would fain interpolate. Pace Porter.-Was not a mare called Adosinda in that great trial-beaten off? Certainly Sir Joseph took her to Newmarket, as I had believed more or less to check the home gallop. He put her into a maiden plate of 701., winner to be sold for 100l., a race of no public interest whatever had not Lord Hastings selected it for one of his 10,000l. plunges with a filly Naïveté by name, who was done a neck by Lord G. Manners' St. Angela, and only beat Adosinda by a head. After the race Lord Hastings made eager inquiry as to this mare's form, and was greatly disappointed at hearing that she was a very bad one. Sir Joseph, needless to say, was rather more than satisfied. Neither do our authors lay sufficient stress on the quality of the field which was behind Green Sleeve and Rosicrucian in the Middle Park, though it is made clear that Rosicrucian ought to have won easily, and that Huxtable thought he had done so. То begin with Lady Elizabeth-she was unbeaten, and had already placed eleven consecutive races to Lord Hastings' account, nor can it be urged that she was training off in the least; on the contrary, she was in her very best form, which she proved two NO. XIV. 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