running, which was much below par. I have here frequently seen that popular sportsman, Delmé Radcliffe, carry off the best stakes, on that very fine mare, Lady Emily. Here, too, and here only, I saw the then renowned Captain Becher ride a race; and, although he was unsuccessful, I well recollect the great power he displayed in the setto. In fact, he seemed rather to bear the horse, than the horse him. I am afraid that his sun is set. I do not remember any of the Cantabs, with the exception of Jemmy Cookson, entering their horses at these races, and he made but poor work of it against the professionals. The club-house keepers (as they call themselves) made fine pickings, on these occasions, of the Cambridge pigeons, at the same time that they did it in fear and trembling. We were ready, at any time, to pounce like hawks upon them, knock the tents about their ears, and kick the proprietors off the course; and, upon more than one occasion, this had nearly been the case. Huntingdon Races I never attended; they were, I believe, indifferent (I mean the spring ones, the summer races were during vacation), and the same horse generally carried off all that was run for. The steeple-chase was becoming fashionable just at the time I left Cambridge, and only one or two of minor importance had taken place. Since then there has been an annual one at Bythorn, in Northamptonshire, over the land of Mr. George, who has kindly done his best to promote the amusement of the embryo masters of foxhounds. I am not now going to enter into a consideration of the advantages, or the contrary, of steeple-chasing. Whether it is a sportsmanlike, or a crud amusement, I will not pronounce; but it certainly is one in which men with small studs cannot indulge with success, without giving up bunting, as their horses require preparation, and, therefore, not likely ever to be much followed after at Cambridge. Besides, there is a degree of publicity about it, which, with all their wilful blindness and leniency, the dons cannot overlook. The steeple-races that I saw at Cambridge, were won by Nicholson, on Claxton, and on Rivulet, and the same gentleman was the winner of the first race at Bythorn, also on Claxton. I do not know who have since then been successful. was in returning from the race at Bythorn, that the drag, driven by young Peyton (nephew of Sir Henry) was upset, and many of the passengers injured, whilst turning the awkward corner at Godmanchester: the life of a gentleman, named Quick, a very heavy man, was, for some time, in danger. It Speaking of this accident reminds me of coaching in general, and here I must confess that Oxford certainly bears the palm, and is facile princeps. At the latter place fours-in-hand are very common; and in many stables, when I visited it, teams were kept for the sole purpose of working together. There were, therefore, many good whips, and few sporting men who could not drive a little. This was not at all the case at Cambridge, where I do not think there were a dozen men who could be reckoned safe. So little, indeed, was coaching the rage, that I do not recollect even a leader and a wheeler kept exclusively for tandem-driving-an affair, by the way, that always seemed to me rather a piece of tom-foolery. The only two occasions I ever ventured in that line, the leader made resolute efforts to get into the drag, as companion to myself and my friend; and I do not, to this moment, know what prevented him. The best man, as an under-graduate, I ever saw, in the coaching way, was Mr. Peyton, the gentleman I mentioned before; but, then, it must have come to him naturally. He, certainly, was very good, and a glorious exception. He is now, I think, pitching it into an elephant, in India, instead of working a four-in-hand, which would have been a much more congenial occupation to him. When I have mentioned Ridgway, and Willoughby, a son of Lord Willoughby d'Eresby, both of them fair performers, I do not think I can call to mind any one who deserves the name of coachman. This is to be wondered at, for there were some very good masters on the Cambridge and London road, and I cannot but think it a captivating amusement. Joe Walton, on the Star (I am speaking of past times), was a very powerful, good coachman. An extraordinary man that same Joseph Walton. He has, or had, at the time I speak of, driven a coach, daily, Sundays excepted, between Cambridge and London, and back again, being a distance of about 104 miles, for between twenty and thirty years, and it seemed to have made no impression on his iron frame. He was, at the time I was at Cambridge, rather unfortunate, having had the bad luck to run over two people in the same week, and much about the same place-the hill at Wade's Mill. For this, however, no blame was attached to him, for he was, as I said before, an excellent coachman. I know many men with more of the suaviter in modo, but few with more of the fortiter in re, than honest Joe. Reynolds, who worked the Telegraph on alternate days, was another very good coachman, and, mirabile dictu, as good on the boards as the box-I mean that he was a very good actor, and quite a lion in the Garrick Club. Morgan, however, was, I believe, the principal coaching tutor, which, I should think, he found no bad trade. He was on the Lynn coach, and has now an inn at Trumpington. If, however, we yield the palm to our brethren at Oxford, in the stadium, we justly claim it on the river and I am strongly of opinion that, whenever the friendly rivals come together, the Cantabs will be found superior. The reason for this is obvious enough. Boating is followed up much more heartily at Cambridge, than at Oxford; there are more than double the number of pullers, and, therefore, cæteris paribus, there is a better pick of men. Such, also, is likely to continue the case. At Cambridge, there is not the variety of amusement and occupation in which the Oxford men rejoice; billiards are not allowed in the town; and they have little temptation to idle away their time in the streets, so that many men who, at Oxford, would be dressy loungers, parading the High-street, at Cambridge betake themselves to boating-first as an occupation, and then as their greatest amusement. The dressy style of man is seldom seen, and then only to be ridiculed and despised. There were, in my time, not fewer than twenty-two eight-oars kept for the purpose of racing, giving a choice of nearly 200 men for the University boat, besides several others which did not engage in such contests. It is customary to laugh at the idea of pulling on the Cam, and to ridicule the follow-yourneighbour system there pursued. But I maintain that, as far as the "pulling" is concerned, our river is equal to the Thames, and this is fully proved by the manner in which the Cambridge men can come direct from their own river, and run a good race with the Leander, the finest crew in London. I do not know how they are getting on now, but, in my time, there were some excellent pullers at Cambridge. Granville, captain of the Corpus boat (at that time head of the river, who pulled stroke in the University boat, in 1837, when she beat the Oxford boat), was a regular multum in parvo, very strong, with a beautiful stroke, and capital pluck. Shapland, however, was always my favourite; a lathy fellow, with a very long reach, and immense power. I am afraid he will never distinguish himself as much with the quill as he did with the oar, but I sincerely hope he may. Frank Simpson, too, the popular Frank, equally good at everything, and now settled down into the useful country parson. Tommy Green, John Keane, captain of the 1st Trinity, Stanley, of Jesus, who pulled stroke in the last race with the Leander, were all excellent pullers, and will long be held up by their respective clubs, as examples for those who come after. There was a generous rivalry subsisting in those days, which is not, I hope, diminished; whilst the members of the different clubs were linked together more strongly than brothers. More than one of your readers will remember the Round of Beef Club, the members of which used to dine together once a week, upon a round of beef, and everything else that was good. Rowing is a manly exercise, and I hope that the sons of Granta may long retain their fame in the boating world. At cricket I was never much of a proficient, and cannot, therefore, throw much light upon the subject; but Parker's Piece was, in those days, a place of much interest, and I have seen some excellent play there. The University Club was very strong, and numbered, amongst others, Charles Taylor, one of the best gentleman players in England; Ponsonby; and Thackeray, without exception, the quickest fielder I ever saw. Caldecot, Redgate, and, generally speaking, some other of the crack professional players, used to be at Cambridge in the beginning of the season, and made a pretty good thing of it. They were engaged by the University Club. Besides this, there were several other clubs, and the Piece used to be covered with players. I have often been astonished that so few accidents occurred, as the balls used to fly about in all directions. There were some very good players in the town also, but a man of the name of Fuller is the only one I can at present recollect. I have now, pretty nearly, worked through all our amusements. Shooting was absurd, and only calculated to teach patience and perseverance. I have frequently known men walk down into the fens, ten or twelve miles, for the chance of getting a shot at a snipe, and come back again-tired, wet, and unsuccessful; but these things were soon forgotten in the pleasant wind up, and an engagement made for another day, with as much alacrity as if they had returned with a cart load of woodcocks. Cambridgeshire is an excellent game country, and, where well preserved, there is an abundance of it. In this, any of my brother poachers, who have had a skurry through Colonel Pemberton's preserves, within two miles of Cambridge, will bear me out; but I must now conclude these, my recollections. Cambridge is a pleasant place, and with £300 per annum, and economy, a man may enjoy, moderately, all of which I have spoken of. The great secret is paying the ready. There is, no doubt, a great difference in colleges. Trinity, at the same time that it is the most correct, is also the most expensive by far, but still not so expensive as a good college at Oxford. All I can say is, I wish I had my time to come over again:-I shall never see such days again. MR. FARQUHARSON'S HUNT. THE very extensive district to which the accompanying map relates, has been hunted by its present occupant, Mr. Farquharson, for six-and-thirty seasons, that gentleman having commenced his career as a master of hounds in December, 1806. With the differences that now unhappily exist, between him and Mr. Drax, on the question of territory, we do not purpose to deal here. Courtesy and conciliation are the elements upon which fox-hunting depends for its existence : "You take its life When you disturb the means whereby it lives." At the head of Mr. Farquharson's establishment is James Treadwell, for several years huntsman to Mr. Codrington, who then hunted Mr. Hall's hounds, for two seasons, and entered upon his present employment in 1837. The first whip is William Penny; the second, Harry Strange. Mr. Farquharson hunts regularly four davs a week, but very frequently five, when his hounds are at their stock kennel. His season opens from the Eastbury kennel, five miles from Blandford, and his hounds nearly go to their Cattistock country, before the end of October, or beginning of November, as it will not admit of cub-hunting. The periods for hunting the Cattistock country are from seven to eight weeks before the 20th of December, and six weeks after the 1st of February. The strength of the kennel is usually from fifty-five to sixty couples of hunting hounds; the head quarters of the establishment being at the Eastbury kennel, within four miles of Langton, the seat of the proprietor. The subjoined list of the various fixtures was furnished by Mr. Farquharson, to whom we beg to offer our best acknowledgments for his polite and ready courtesy. List of Meets of Mr. Farquharson's Hounds, with their distances from the kennels appropriated to their districts. |