the end of the year by carrying off the Prendergast Stakes at Newmarket. Next year Sittingbourne ran second in the Two Thousand, and second in the Derby, both to West Australian, and was one of the best three-year-olds in England. In fact, if he had not met such a paragon as West Australian, he would have been inscribed on the roll of fame as winner of the Two Thousand, Derby, and St Leger. What happened to him in the latter race formed the subject of one of the late Mr F. Swindell's most amusing stories; but I cannot venture to describe what that famous raconteur used to unfold, or his admirable mimicry of Mr Gratwicke's look, gestures, and ejaculations when the race ended without Sittingbourne getting a place. It often happens that a couple of twoyear-olds meet on a T.Y.C. course, and that the smaller is the better of the two. Twelve additional months reverse their relations of form, and the big colt, having had time to grow and furnish, becomes the superior when both are three years old. This was what happened in the case of Pharos and Sittingbourne.

I have often made mention in this volume and elsewhere of the wisdom, nay the necessity, of making use of a good horse when he is well and fit to run. Never was this truth more forcibly exemplified than when Mr Gratwicke had Landgrave engaged in 1850 in the Four-year-old Triennial (First October Meeting at Newmarket), the Cesare

witch, and Cambridgeshire. This fine horse, a gelding got by Sir Hercules out of the Landgravine, was handicapped for the Cesarewitch at 6 st. 13 lb., and was rather freely backed by the stable, in whose interest £15,000 to £100 was taken that he won the three events-despite the fact that in the first he had to meet two good horses, Lord Eglinton's Elthiron and Sir Joseph Hawley's Vatican. When I saddled Landgrave for the Triennial, run from the Ditchin, Flatman asked how he should ride him. I said, "Take hold of his head, and come truly through till you reach the Turn of the Lands. Then steady him against the hill, and, take my word for it, your two opponents will have had enough of it before you get to the Duke's stand." My words were literally fulfilled, for Landgrave's tremendous stride (he stood 16 hands 1 inch high) told so effectually that in the end he won hands down, and became instantly a great favourite for the Cesarewitch, for which Fobert, the trainer of Elthiron, asserted that he was as well in as the Flying Dutchman would be at 7 st. 7 lb.

The next difficulty was to find a trustworthy jockey able to ride him at 6 st. 13 lb. At last Lord Enfield secured old Sam Mann, who, by reducing himself to the utmost, promised to get down to the weight. Unfortunately in the process he made himself so weak that before half the distance was run he could hardly keep his seat, and Landgrave, who required holding together, was sprawling all

over the course. In the end he was beaten half a length by Chapple upon Mr Payne's Glauca, a mare to whom he could have given a stone, and who gave him five pounds and a beating. Everybody saw that it was Sam Mann, not Landgrave, who lost the race, and the latter was installed first favourite for the Cambridgeshire at 6 st. 11 lb. Jemmy Chapple was engaged to ride him, and was told to come through; but instead of obeying orders he never got near the front until the last few yards, when he came and won by a head. My firm conviction is that if Flatman had ridden Landgrave in the Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire at 7 st. 8 lb. (his lowest weight), he would have won both as easily as he did the Four-year-old Triennial. It was perhaps the best thing that, in my long experience, I ever sent forth from the Goodwood stables, and the result proved how often horse and trainer are undeservedly baffled by the weakness or incompetency of a jockey.

I cannot conclude this brief memoir without mentioning that the fifth Duke of Richmond was, throughout life, a devoted and enthusiastic patron of agriculture, and took the greatest interest in his farms, cattle, and sheep. Never within my memory has there been a moment at which Goodwood Park and Downs were without a superb flock of Southdown sheep which called the reigning Duke their master. No expense or trouble have been spared in obtaining the best sheep that

money could buy, and countless were the gold and silver medals at the Smithfield Cattle Shows gained by Goodwood sheep. In the midst of a host of sheep - breeders, including the late Mr Ellman of Glynde, Mr Grantham, and Mr Jonas Webbe, his Grace was always prominent, and his flock was in request, not only among English, but also among French, Prussian, Austrian, Russian, and American connoisseurs.

With a quotation from the same source which has already furnished me with more than one passage, I draw near to the close of this humble tribute of grateful and respectful duty and affection, laid on the tomb of my beloved master : "The Duke of Richmond in domestic life realised truly the character of a Christian parent. He possessed a singleness of purpose which made his home the perfection of happiness; his children looked upon their father as their most sincere and loving friend. Their childish sports were never interrupted, and if they paused in their innocent games when their father entered the room, it was to welcome him with that outpouring of the heart which loving children can alone offer."

The only additional remark which I have to offer is, that his Grace's political career was on a par with his social life at Goodwood and at Gordon Castle, and with the courage, loyalty, and fidelity with which he discharged a soldier's duties in the Peninsular war. It is notorious that the

great Duke of Wellington entertained the greatest objection to military medals and decorations, which, in common with many other great captains of the past, he regarded as likely to induce ambitious young officers to indulge in ostentatious exhibitions of daring, which were of little or no benefit to the cause for which they fought, but, as the Iron Duke believed, were often undertaken in order to attract special notice to their perpetrators. Under these circumstances the medals for the Peninsula and Waterloo were not presented to the gallant soldiers who had so richly merited them, for more than thirty years after Waterloo was fought. At last the Duke of Richmond determined to strike in on behalf of those of his humble comrades whom in 1847 time had still spared. Rising in his place in the House of Lords in May 1847, the Duke indignantly replied to a sneering remark made by the Marquis of Londonderry, who deprecated "the prostitution of rewards which had recently been squeezed out of the Government." Nothing could have been more dignified and characteristic than the Duke of Richmond's reply. "After the attack,' he commenced, "which has been made by the noble and gallant Marquis, who has the audacity to speak of these medals and rewards as being prostituted, I claim your Lordships' kind indulgence while I attempt to reply to those insulting words. He says that these rewards are prosti