Nasby in Exile: or, Six Months of Travel in England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Germany, Switzerland and Belgium, with many things not of travel — John Locke — John Shaqi
Nasby in Exile: or, Six Months of Travel in England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Germany, Switzerland and Belgium, with many things not of travel
John Locke · en
The sight of the field was indescribable. There were people by the
hundred thousand. The railroads brought down one hundred and twenty-five
thousand, and nobody goes to the "Darby" by train if he can help it.
Many prefer to walk the sixteen miles to going by rail. These either
haven't the money to pay their fares, or shrink from giving money to
railroads so long as there is beer to be had. The grand stand, an
immense three-story structure, was black with people, and as far as the
eye could reach there was nothing but people. And, as it is in America,
the people were there for everything except to see the races, which is
proper. For if there be anything under heaven that is exasperating it
is a horse race, unless it be a regatta. Except as an excuse for
something else, I never could see why people went to either. To sit or
stand for an hoar under a hot sun, while a lot of jockeys are
undertaking to swindle each other, simply to see a field of horses run
or trot for a minute or two, or a parcel of boats start and come to the
finish, always did seem to me to be the very acme of absurdity. But when
you have thirty jolly fellows with you, who make good talk, a wild
profusion of lunch, and oceans of wine, it is quite another thing, that
is if you like lunch, wine, and talk.
The principal race this year, and the one on which the interest
centered, was between "Peregrine," the English favorite, and "Iroquois,"
the American horse. There were others in the field, but these two
absorbed the entire attention of the throng. It was a national matter,
and a vast amount of money was lost and won on the event. As is known,
"Iroquois" won the race by a very small majority, and the American eagle
screamed with delight, and the British lion hung its head. The English
felt more humiliated than they did when they lost the Colonies, and
Archer, the English jockey who rode "Iroquois" to victory, was
considered a very unpatriotic man. The English found one consolation:
"Well, you know, the blarsted Yankee 'oss couldn't 'ave won the 'eat if
a Hinglish jockey hadn't ridden 'im." This was the remark that I heard
everywhere.
[Sidenote: SHOWS AND BEGGARS.]