 | THE TURF. Georgia scenes |  |
THE TURF.
“Come,” said my friend Baldwin to me, a few months
ago, “let us go to the turf.”
“No,” said I, “I take no interest in its amusements.”
“Nor do I,” rejoined he; “but I visit it to acquire
a knowledge of the human character, as it exhibits itself
in the various scenes of life, and with the hope of turning
the knowledge thus acquired, to some good account. I
am the more desirous that you should accompany me,”
continued he, “because, as one pair of eyes and ears
cannot catch all that passes, within a scene so spacious,
I shall loose many instructing, interesting, or amusing
incidents, without the assistance of a friend; and therefore
I wish to enlist your services.”
“Well,” said I, “with this view, I will accompany
you.”
We went; and the following is the result of our joint
observations:
We went early, when as yet no one had reached the
ground but those who occupied the booths for the purpose
of traffic. It was not long, however, before crowds of
persons of all ages, sexes, conditions and complexions,
were seen moving towards the booths; some on foot,
some on horseback, some in gigs, some in carriages,
some in carts, and some in wagons. The carriages,
(generally filled with well dressed ladies,) arranged
themselves about thirty or forty paces from the starting
point, towards the centre of the turf. Around these,
circled many young gentlemen, each riding his prettiest,
whipping, spurring, and curbing his horse into the most
engaging antics, and giving visible token that he thought
every eye from the carriages was on him, and every
heart overpowered by his horsemanship. As many
more plied between the booths and carriages, bearing
and punch.
“But surely no lady drank the punch!”
“Yes, three of them did; and if I know what large
swallows mean, they loved it too—but they did'nt drink
long. The ladies ought to be informed, however, that a
countryman passing them, observed, `the way them women
love punch is nothing to nobody!”'
The gentlemen generally collected about the booths,
and employed themselves in loud talking and drinking.
Here I saw Maj. Close, who two hours before declared
he had not enough to pay a poor woman for the making
the vest he had on, treat a large company to a dollar
bowl of punch; and, ten minutes after, I saw the same
man stake fifty dollars on the race. I saw another gentleman
do the same, who, four days before, permitted his
endorser to lift his note in bank, for one hundred dollars,
which note the endorser still held. But, thought I, the
way these gentlemen treat their creditors, “is nothing to
nobody.” One thing I remarked upon this occasion,
which should not be passed in silence. I saw many gentlemen
drink spirits upon the turf, whom I never saw
taste it any where else—some, because it seemed fashionable;
and some, because they would bet nothing but
a glass of toddy, or a bowl of punch, and having bet it,
they must help drink it.
I had been employed, perhaps three quarters of an
hour, in making observations upon the scene which was
before me, when I observed a group of negroes and boys
enter one of the gates of the turf, following with much
seeming interest, a horse which was led by an aged
black, by whose side walked a little negro boy about
thirteen years of age, dressed in pink, throughout. I
had no doubt but that the horse was one which was
entered for the day's running; and as I was desirous of
meet him apart from the crowd. As soon as I approached
near enough to distinguish the features of the old
negro who led the animal, I discovered that he was a
gentleman who, upon that day at least, was to be approached
only with the most profound respect. His
step was martial, his eye looked directly forward, and
his countenance plainly indicated that he had many deep
things shut up in his brain, which the world had long
been trying to pry into, in vain. I concluded, however,
that I might venture to ask him a question, which all who
had read the morning's Chronicle could have answered.
I therefore took the liberty of addressing him, as soon
as he came near me, with “old man, what horse is that?”
The question seemed to come like a thunder-bolt among
his contemplations; and without speaking a word, he
bent upon me a look which I perfectly understood to
mean, “Pray, sir, where were you born and brought
up?” Having been thus foiled by the old man, I resolved
to try my luck with the rider; accordingly, I
repeated the question to him. He stopt, and was in the
act, as I thought, of answering, when the old man bawled
out to him, in an angry tone—
“Come along, you Bill; never keep behind you hoss,
when you fuss (first) come on the ground.”
Bill obeyed promptly, and took his position by his
majesty, who observed to him in an under tone, as he
came along side—
“Never tell de name you hoss; it's bad luck.”
Bill's confusion plainly showed that he ought to have
known a thing so obvious, from his infancy. I was as
much disconcerted as Bill; but was soon relieved by a
pert little blackmoor, who, rather to persuade me that he
was in all the secrets of the turf, than in charity to me,
addressed me with—
“Master, I'll tell you what hoss dat is.”
“Well, my boy,” said I, “what horse is it?”
“He young Butteram, son o' ole Butteram, dat usen to
belong to Mr. Swingletree.”
“And do you know all the horses that are going to
run do-day?” said I.
“La, yes sir;” said he: “I know ebery one dat's
gwine to run ebery day.”
I concluded I would take advantage of the boy's
knowledge; and therefore gave him twelve and a half
cents to stand by me, and give me the names of the racers
as they past; for by this time they were all on the
ground, and following the direction of the first.
“This one,” said my Mentor, as the next approached,
“name Flory Randle; she b'long to Mr. Pet; but I
don't know what hoss he daddy, though.”
“This one,” (as the next came up) name Sir William;
he come all de way from Virginy, and I tink dey say he
got by Virginy too.”
“And this,” (as the last approached) “name Clipse;
by jokey, he look to me like he could clip it too; and
I be swinged if I don't go my seb'n-pence on him any
how.”
Thus I learned that the four horses which were to
run, were Bertrand, Flora Randolph, Sir William, and
Eclipse. At this moment, a voice from the Judges'
stand cried, “Prepare your horses!” and in an instant
the grooms were engaged in saddling the animals. This
preliminary was soon disposed of, and the owners proceeded
to give the riders their instructions.
“Now, Bob,” said Mr. Pet, “I know that I have the
heels of any horse on the turf, but I'm a little afraid of
my bottom; therefore, save your wind as much as possible.
Trail the leading horse upon a hard rein, about
a half distance behind, until you come to the last half
you pass the leading horse about a length, bear your
rein, and don't come in more than a length ahead.”
“Sam,” said the owner of Sir William, “you've got
none to fear but Bertrand, and you've got the bottom of
him; therefore give him no rest from the word “go!”—
unless you find that your heels are as good as his; and
if so, you need'nt waste your wind. Feel Bertrand at
the first rise of the course; if he stands it pretty well,
try how you can move with him, going down the hill;
and if you find that you are too hard for him, either at
the rises or falls, pinch him hard at all of them places—
and when you come to the last half mile of each heat,
run his heart, liver, lights, and soul-case out of him.”
“Ned,” said the owner of Eclipse, “you are not to
run for the first heat at all, unless you find you can take
it very easy. Let Sir William take the first heat.—
You can beat the others when you please, and William
can't stand a push for two heats; therefore, just play
along side of him handsomely, for the first three miles,
and at the coming in, just drop in the distance pole.
The next heat take the track, and press him from the
start.”
“Bill,” said the owner of Bertrand, “do you take the
track at the start, and keep it, and run only just fast
enough to keep it.”
Here the roll of the drum, and a cry from the Judges'
stand, put the horses in motion for the starting point.
Over this point, I now observed suspended from a pole,
a beautiful blue silk purse, spangled with silver, and
embroidered with gold, on both sides of which were
marked in golden characters, “$500”!!!
It would require a volume to describe the scene which
now ensued. “Captain, do you run Bertrand for the
heat?” “I do, sir.” “Five hundred dollars, Bertrand
run for the heat?” “No, sir.” “One hundred to fifty,
that Flora Randolph beats Eclipse the first heat!” “Done,
sir”—“Done, sir”—“Done, sir.” “I took the bet first.”
“No, sir, I took it first.” “No matter, gentlemen, I'll
go you all fifty apiece.” “It's a bet, sir”—“It's a
bet”—“A bet, sir.” “Here, Uncle Sam, hold dese
trups”—“Now mind de bet. Bob, he bet dat Flory
Randle take de fus heat. I bet he take no heat at all.”
“Yes, dat de bet—you hear him, Uncle Sam?”
“Tell him over agin, le' me listen.” “Well, dis him:
If Florey take de fus heat, Bob win—if he take no heat
at all, I win.” “Berry well, I got him now fass in my
head.”
“Pa, give me a quarter to bet.” “What horse do
you want to bet upon, my son?” “Eclipse.” “Oh
no—there's a quarter—bet it upon Bertrand.”
“Well, Miss Flora, don't you wish to bet?” “Yes,
sir, I'll bet you a pair of gloves.” “Well, what horse
will you take?” “Oh, my namesake, of course.” “It's
a bet—you take Flora against the field, of course.”
“To be sure I do.”
Thus it went—men, women and children, whites and
blacks, all betting.
Such was the bustle, confusion and uproar among the
men, that I could hardly see or hear any thing distinctly;
and therefore I resolved to take my position among the
carriages, in order to observe the ladies under the delights
of the turf.
The signal was now given, and off went the horses—
Flora ahead, Bertrand next, Sir William next, and
Eclipse in the rear.
“Only look at that rascal,” said Mr. Pet, as he charged
by us at full speed; “how he is riding. Hold her
in, you rascal, or I'll give you five hundred lashes as
puppy, or I'll cut your throat.” Bob did his best to
restrain her, for he bore upon the rein until his back came
nearly in contact with Flora's; but to no purpose.—
Ahead she would go for the first two miles.
“Only see, mamma,” said Miss Flora, “how beautifully
Flora runs!” “Oh, that dear little rider,” (a negro,)
“how handsomely he carries himself. I knew I should
win my gloves.”
At the completion of the second mile, Flora became
more manageable, and the other horses passed her in
their order. As the last gained about a length of her—
“now,” said Pet, “keep her at that.” The rider straightened
himself in the saddle, but the space widened, perceptibly,
between him and Eclipse. “Don't bear upon the
rein so hard,” said Pet. “Let her play easy.” Bob slackened
the rein; but Flora seemed not to improve her
liberty. “Look how you're dropping behind,” continued
Pet. “Let her out, I tell you!” Bob let her out,
but she would not go out. “Let her out, I tell you, or
I will blow your brains out.” Here Bob gave her a
cut—“You infernal rascal you, don't give her the whip!
Bring her up to Eclipse.” Bob gave her the lash again;
but Flora obstinately refused to keep company with
Eclipse. “Very well, sir,” said Pet, “ride your own
way, and I'll whip mine when you get home; I see how
it is.” Bob seemed to hear only the first member of
the sentence, and he gave the whip without mercy.
“Why, Pet,” said a gentleman, “what is the matter
with Flora to-day?” “What's the matter with her, sir!
Don't you see that I can't make Bob do any thing I tell
him? I'll learn him how to take a bride in future.”
As Flora received the twentieth cut she switched her
tail. “Ah!” said Mr. Dimple, “I fear you've lost your
gloves Miss Flora—see, your favorite switches her tail.”
“Mamma, Mr. Dimple says Flora switches her tail?”
“Does Flora Switch her tail?” said Mrs. Blue. “Does
Flora switch her tail?” said Miss Emma. “Oh, what
a pity!”
The horses preserved their order through the heat.
Flora was distanced; but her rider maintained his grace
and dignity to the last, and rode as if perfectly satisfied
that every eye was upon him, and that all were saying:
“to be sure Flora is beaten; but her rider is decidedly
the best on the ground.” In spite of his cry of “clear
the track!” however, the crowd closed in between him
and the foremost horses, extinguished his graces from
general view, and forced him to come in, in the mere
character of a spectator.
Between the first and second heats, I saw the owners
of Sir William and Eclipse in a pleasing conversation;
but I did not hear what they said.
After a rest of about a quarter of an hour, the horses
were again brought to the starting point; and at the tap
of the drum went off with great velocity. Bertrand took
the lead as before, and William pursued him very closely.
They kept within two lengths of each other for
three miles and a half, when William locked his adversary,
and both riders commenced giving the whip and
spur without mercy. When they came in, it was evident
to my eye, that Bertrand's rider (for I could not see the
horses' heads) was more than his width ahead of William's;
but the judges decided that William won the
heat by two inches and a quarter. Eclipse just saved
his distance. At the close of the heat the two former
exhibited a pitiable spectacle. There was not a dry
hair upon either of them, and the blood streamed from
the flanks and sides of both.
“Mr. Dimple,” said Miss Emma, “which horse shall
I bet on next time? Which seems the most distressed?”
“I declare, Miss,” said Dimple, “I don't know—they
both seem to be very much distressed; but I think William
seems to be in rather the worse plight.”
Between this and the following heat, two little boys
engaged in a fight, and not less than fifty grown men
gathered around them to witness the conflict, with as
great an uproar as if a town were on fire. This fight
produced two more between grown persons; one of
whom was carried from the turf with a fractured scull,
as it was thought, from the blow of a stick. But none of
the ladies went to the fights.
Again the horses were brought up and put off. Bertrand
once more led the way, and Eclipse followed close
at his heels, for about a mile and three quarters, when
William ran up under whip, nose and tail to Bertrand.
Eclipse fell some distance behind, and continued so for a
mile and a half, when he came up and nearly locked
Bertrand. Thus they ran three fourths of the remaining
distance. On the last stretch they came side to side,
and so continued through. On this heat, I concurred
with the judges, that it was a draw race. William was
double distanced.
Bertrand and Eclipse put off upon the fourth heat:
Bertrand still taking the lead by about half his length.
Eclipse now pushed for the track; but Bertrand maintained
it. For two miles did the riders continue so close
together that they might have joined hands. They had
entered upon the third mile in this way, when at the first
turn of the course from the judges' stand, Eclipse fell and
killed his rider. Bertrand being now left without a
competitor, galloped slowly round to the goal, where
with great pomp and ceremony, the pole which held the
purse was bent down to his rider, who dislodged it, and
booth, to the sound of drum, fife and violin.
“I declare,” said Mrs. Blue, as her carriage wheeled
off, “had it not been for that little accident, the sport
would have been delightful.”
I left the turf in company with a large number of gentlemen,
all of whom concurred in the opinion, that they
had never witnessed such sport in all their lives. “What
a pity it is,” said General Grubbs, “that this amusement
is not more encouraged! We never shall have a fine
breed of horses until the turf is more patronized.”
I returned home, and had been seated perhaps an
hour, when Baldwin entered. “Well,” said he, “I
have just been favored with a sight of the contents of
that beautiful purse which Bertrand won—and what do
you think it contained?”
“Why, five hundred dollars, certainly,” returned I.
“No,” continued he, “it contained two half eagles,
sixteen dollars in silver, twelve one dollar bills, and a
subscription paper, which the owner offered to the largest
subscriber on it, for one hundred and fifty dollars, and
it was refused. It is but right to observe, however, that
the gentleman to whom the offer was made assured the
owner that it was as good as gold.”
HALL.
| THE TURF. Georgia scenes | |