The merry days, when we were young!
Sang the ladye fayre. I can hear the clear rich tones even now. Ah me! what days were those! Why will they not come back? We are scarcely of such hoar antiquity1 that we may not enjoy the present reasonably, when "gracieuses" dames2 and demoiselles look brightly on us with those haunting eyes of theirs. But, oh! the awakening3 at dawn, that is when we find the difference. How glorious was it to regain5 consciousness from out a realm of poet dreams, with the certainty of a day of stirring world-strife before us. At the réveille of that enchanted6 time, how gaily7 the knight8 donned harness and mounted steed, serenely9 conscious of his ability to perform his devoir "right manful under shield," confident of winning his guerdon, even, perchance, a smile from the Queen of Beauty herself.
Now, alas10, the sky seems lowering and sad-coloured, the lines of the foe11 ever serried12 and close[Pg 188] ranked, the blows come shrewder and more difficult of parry. More than once has the knight been, by trusty squire14 or faithful friend,
Dragged from amid the horses' feet,
With dinted shield and helmet beat.
We were ever and anon minded to answer in the affirmative to the "rendez vous!" of Fate so persistently15 repeated. Yet will we forward still, parrying lance-thrust here, fending16 sword-play there. Many a trusty comrade is down; we miss the cheery tones of a voice that sounded never far from our right arm, in feast or in foray. Yet still en avant seems more natural than halt or retreat.
Ye gods! what a spring morning was that on which we hurled17 ourselves out of bed at Woodlands, with the full, absorbing, wildly-exciting knowledge, even in that first moment of consciousness, that The Steeplechase was to be run that day—an Olympic game in which we were to share. A truly classic conflict in which the competitors were mostly men of mark, where the spectators were friends, relatives, and sympathisers, and where divine personages in the shape of various ladies of the period, lovely and beloved, were to gaze upon our prowess, thrill at our daring, and "weep when a warrior19 nobly falls."
We had a warrior, Colonel Acland Anderson—poor fellow; we had four squatters, Molesworth and Rawdon Greene, Edmund M'Neill, and "the duffer who writes this" reminiscence. Last, not least, we had a Chief-Justice in posse. He wasn't Sir William in those days, only a hard-riding, hard-working, manifestly rising barrister, perhaps not inaptly[Pg 189] described by a maid-servant from the Emerald Isle21, at a house where he had called, and who, in the fluster22 of the interview, had forgotten his name, as "a mighty23 plisant young man with foxy whiskers."
We were a goodly company, all staying at Woodlands for a week or two—have people leisure and inclination24 to do this sort of thing now?—and this steeplechase had been improvised25 to take place on the plain before Woodlands House, as an acceptable variation of the ordinary programme, which comprised other entertainments besides the orthodox dance which ended the day. Was there not also another legal celebrity26 not as yet graced with the accolade27? Cheery, cultured, courteous28 Redmond Barry—did he not write a charade29 duly enacted30 by us youths and maidens31, besides coaching us in "The Chough and Crow" and divers32 glees and part-songs?
In that Arcadian period what a nice place Woodlands was! Somehow one could afford to take life more easily in those days. The sons of the house were sometimes up the country at their stations, especially at shearing33 time, but managed to be a good deal at the old home. And when they were there the chatelaine wisely took heed35 to make home a pleasant place; to that end inviting36 friends and well-wishers, among whom I had the privilege to be inscribed37. Great were the doings done, and very pleasant the days we spent there.
Thus Woodlands stands before me, looking back over those half-forgotten days, as "the country-house" par13 excellence38 of the period.
Neither a farm nor yet a large estate, it was something between the two, while the household and[Pg 190] the ménage generally were more in accordance with the habitudes of English country-house life than often obtains in Australia.
Mr. Pomeroy Greene, resolving to make Victoria his future home, had emigrated after a comprehensive fashion—not now so common. He brought with him, in addition to his large family, a house, with men-servants and maid-servants, horses and carriages, farm tools and implements39, nearly everything which he could have needed had he proceeded to free-select an uninhabited island. Was there not "Rory O'More," a son of "Irish Birdcatcher"; "Nora Creina," dam by "Drone"; the graceful41 "Taglioni," and the hunter "Pickwick," a big, powerful, Galway-looking nag18, up to any weight over any height, and not too refined to draw a cart or do a day's harrowing on a pinch? An exceedingly useful stamp of horse in a new country, most of us will admit, and quite worth his passage money.
Also, in this connection, came Tom Brannigan, an active, resolute42, humorous young Irishman, with a decided43 family likeness44 to one Mickey Free about him. He was stud groom45, and a model retainer during the first years of the settlement of Woodlands. Let me not forget Smith, the butler, a decorous, solemn personage of staid demeanour and faultless accuracy of get-up, an occasional twinkle of the eye only at times betraying that he belonged to the Milesian and not the Saxon branch of his widely-dispersed family and vocation46.
Just thirteen miles from Melbourne, Woodlands was a pleasant morning or afternoon's ride—an easy drive. You left Melbourne by the Flemington road, traversed the Moonee Ponds, finally [Pg 191]debouching upon the plain, whence you saw the house, built bungalow47 fashion upon a wooded slope, with flanking wings and a courtyard, verandah-encircled likewise, facing eastward48 towards Sunbury, and on the west having an extensive outlook over plain and forest, with the sea in the distance. The landscape was extensive, "wide and wild, and open to the air," but sufficiently49 wooded to prevent the expression of bleakness51. These thoughts possibly do not occur to me as I dress provisionally in shooting coat, slippers52, etc., and rush out to the stables to look at the gallant53 steed that is to carry C?sar and his fortunes, a game-looking Arab grey, fast and a good fencer, the property of one John Fitzgerald Leslie Foster—a guest at the time, and lent to me for the occasion. Only been a few days off grass, though otherwise in good buckle54. The certainty of his being short of condition does not weigh with me, however, so anxious am I to have a throw in and sport my tops and cords. Tom Brannigan thinks "he has a great spring in him entirely," and encourages me to hope that a lucky chance may land me a winner. He relates an anecdote55 of his brother Jim, a well-known steeplechase jock, in a race where the fences were terrific. One of the country people was heard to say, "Sure the most of them would break their necks, but Jim Brannigan and the ould mare56 would have a leg to spare, somehow or somehow." Much comforted by this apposite reference, I shut the door, and inspect the rest of the stable. It is not a very small one.
Having a look for the hundredth time at "Rory O'More"—a beautiful brown horse, showing great quality, with a strong likeness to "The Premier57" in[Pg 192] more than one of his points, and glancing at a couple of yearlings—I betake myself to an inspection58 of the battle-steeds of the day.
They are a goodish lot, and in that state and condition of life which impress on me the idea that, unless under the favouring accident of a general bouleversement, my chance of winning is slender indeed. First of all stands an elegant blood-looking grey, the property of the heir-apparent, sheeted, hooded59, and done up in great style. He is as "fit as a fiddle," and will have on his back an exceedingly cool and determined60 rider—who, like Mr. Stripes, "will not throw a chance away."
Next to him is a powerful, hunter-looking bay, an animal which would fetch about four hundred guineas in England. Let me describe him—remembering as I do every hair in his skin. I had ridden him more than once, and the reader, if he has been home lately, will note if I have overrated his price. A three-quarter or four-fifths bred horse, bay with black points, save one white hind61 leg. A light, well-shaped head, a good neck, and shoulders so oblique62 that it took the length of the snaffle bridle63 to pay out for rein40; flat and clean bone under the knee, deep across the heart, powerful quarter, with muscular thighs64 and well-bent hocks. He would have been quite in the English fashion of the present day, as he had a shortish pulled tail. Height about fifteen hands three inches, on short legs.
This was "Thur'mpogue," the property of Edmund M'Neill, of the firm of Hall and M'Neill, near Daisy Hill. The portrait is that of a weight-carrier,[Pg 193] doubtless. And so he needed to be, the aforesaid Edmund being of the unusual height of six and a half feet. Though not particularly broad, it will be seen that he could not be a very light man. In another box stands a long, low, blood-like chestnut65 horse. He winces66 and lays back his ears after a fashion which indicates temper, as the boy pulls the sheet off at my instigation. The test is a true one. What little he has is proverbially bad, and he has deposited so many riders in unexpected localities by "mount, and stream, and sea," that a less resolute horseman than the Chief would have fought shy of him as an investment. He is in great form, however, and as hard as nails, his close bright golden coat shining like shot satin. I involuntarily give vent50 to an exclamation67, which denotes that my own and other people's chances have receded68 since interviewing "The Master of the Rolls," for such is the legal luminary69 I now behold70.
Back to bedroom and bath; for by this time dressing71 has set in seriously all over the house, and the bachelors' apartments, in a separate wing, resound72 with the careless talk and frequent laughter which are sure to emanate73 from a number of friends in the golden prime. All sorts of opinions are volunteered about the merits of each other's horses, sarcastic74 hints as to horsemanship and condition, laughing retorts and confident anticipations76, are to be heard on every side, welling out from the bed-chambers and along the corridors, into which, with the exuberance77 of youth, the inmates78, in various stages of apparelling, likewise overflow79.
We all met at breakfast, of course. Talk about[Pg 194] suppers! There may be, doubtless, a fair share of enjoyable "causerie," or even serious love-making, at supper, "when wit and wine sparkle instead of the sun"; but for real, honest, hearty80 enjoyment81, when all is sanguine82 anticipation75 of excitement or success, with good weather, good spirits, and good company, commend me to a country-house at breakfast time, where the sexes are judiciously83 mingled84, and a hunt, a steeplechase, or a picnic is on the cards. There may be a few things better in this life of ours. If so, I have seldom come across them.
Of course it was then and there arranged who were to drive whom—what traps, carriages, hacks86, and so on were to be requisitioned. The organisation87 even went so far—if my memory serves me—as that every knight should be presented with the colours of some ladye fayre—after humble88 petition on bended knee—by my halidome!—which he doubtless swore to carry to the front, or nobly fall.
I don't retain a clear account of the preliminaries on the morning of the "Grand National"; but I think we must have made as much fuss and given as much trouble. When, about mid-day, we turned out on the plain below Woodlands House, where the carriages were drawn89 up and the spectators assembled in expectation of our appearance, the excitement had passed from the stage of tireless energy to that of fervent90 concentration. Each man wore an aspect of settled, unflinching resolution, such as might have befitted, in an after-time,[Pg 195]
Those who ran the tilt91 that day
With Death, and bore their lives away
From the Balaclava Charge!
Out we came at last, a fairish field to look at, men and horses, though I say it. I should premise92 that the leaps were composed of two-railed fences, brushed underneath93, about fifteen in all, from four feet to four feet six in height, and sufficiently stiff, as the event proved.
On the upper or eastern side of the course, where shade was procurable94, were entrenched95 the carriages and non-combatants, among whom Mr. Redmond Barry, Mr. Leslie Foster, William Anderson, "Count" Ogilby, and other disengaged cavaliers, who did their devoir in entertaining the ladies and judiciously criticising the field. Jimmy Ellis, friend and pastoral partner of one William Stawell, a brisk, black-bearded, hard-riding little Milesian, was starter and clerk of the course. Here we came up for the last time, more or less soberly or skittishly96, to the post, with cords and tops, silk jackets and caps, "accoutred proper," full jockey costume being de rigueur. A correct card of the race would probably have read as follows. The colours of the riders may have partially97 faded out of memory's ken4, inasmuch as "it was many and many a year ago."
1. Mr. Molesworth Greene's grey horse "Trifle," four years, pink and white—ridden by owner.
2. Mr. Stawell's "Master of the Rolls," aged34 chestnut, scarlet98 and black—owner.
3. Mr. E. M'Neill's bay horse "Thur'mpogue," blue and silver—owner.
4. Mr. Acland Anderson's bay horse "Spider," ridden by Mr. Rawdon Greene—crimson and gold.
[Pg 196]
5. Mr. William Anderson's chestnut horse "Murgah," ridden by Mr. Acland Anderson—maroon jacket, black cap.
6. Mr. Leslie Foster's grey horse "Achmet," ridden by Mr. Rolf Boldrewood—white and magenta99.
We are marshalled in line by Jimmy Ellis, and a good start not being so vitally important as in a flat race, we get comfortably away.
Pretty close together we charge the first fence, which is negotiated with "ease to the riders and satisfaction to the lookers-on." The turf is green and firm, and the distance to the next fence rather greater, so we make the pace better, and, as we near it, blood begins to tell.
The brothers Greene are first over, followed by "Thur'mpogue," the rider of the "Master of the Rolls" lying off, and evidently doing a little generalship. In the second division come my grey and William Anderson's chestnut. Both clear the fence well, and pull double, as we try to keep what wind they have, available for the finish.
So we fare on; each fence shows that the race will mainly lie between Molesworth Greene's grey and the chestnut of Mr. Stawell, the latter taking all his fences in stride, and looking as resolute as at the first. Rawdon Greene, Acland Anderson, and M'Neill are riding jealously for second place.
The pace is now as good as we can make it. We are all at the second fence from home. The grey and the chestnut, almost neck and neck, are taking their leaps together, "Trifle" with a slight lead. We are all going our best. It has come to the do-or-die stage, and every man sets his teeth and rides[Pg 197] for his life. We are in full view of the grand stand too. I have been taking a pull at my grey, and manage, by a rush, to send him up into respectable prominence100, when Rawdon Greene's horse hits a top-rail a terrible clout101, which flies up and disturbs "Thur'mpogue's" sensitive nerves as he measures his distance for the leap. Half looking back, half jumping, he strikes the rail close to the post. It bends, but does not break. The big horse balances for a moment, and then falls, rolling heavily over his rider. "Thur'mpogue" rises in a moment, and makes a beeline—head up and rein flying—for the nearest road to Daisy Hill—a practice "quite frequent" with him whenever he happens to get loose. His rider does not rise, or indeed move for a few minutes. He has broken a rib20, and, like Mr. Tupman, had all the temporary supply of breath knocked out of his body. The rest of the field finish creditably close, Molesworth Greene's grey being beaten on the post by the "Master of the Rolls."
We did not wait there long, every one being anxious about the precise amount of damage sustained by "Emun Mhor," or Long Edmund, as we heard he was called by the tenantry of the estate after his return to Ireland. Knowing that if he did not die on the field, he would naturally be anxious for the safety of such a horse as "Thur'mpogue," and an extremely swell102 Wilkinson and Kidd saddle, I started off on the track, and was lucky enough to run him down just as he was preparing to cross the Deep Creek103. As I led him back I encountered Jimmy Ellis, also running the trail like a black tracker, with his head so low to the ground that he did not see me[Pg 198] till I was close on top of him. When we returned to the scene of our contest the wounded warrior was being conveyed to the house in Mrs. Anderson's barouche, doubtless receiving an amount of sympathy which fully104 compensated105 for the pain and inconvenience of his mishap106.
He was not able to join in the dance which delightfully107 finished up the day's entertainment, or, indeed, to leave his room; but he was an interesting personage thenceforth, with his arm in a sling108, and gained prestige and consideration during the remainder of the revels109.
The worst of these brief sketches110, roughed off at intervals111 snatched from a busy life when
Mournful memory sitteth singing
Of the days that are no more,
is that melancholy112 reflections will obtrude113 themselves. How many of one's comrades who made the joy of that pleasant time are no more! Of that same cheery gathering114, how many lie low—how small a party should we now make could we meet—how different would be our greetings!
It boots not to grieve. If we don't ride steeplechases, or try conclusions with the half-tamed steed, we still find a warm place in our hearts for a good hack85. His Honour Sir William Stawell doesn't do much in the four-in-hand line nowadays, but I hear that he can walk up a mountain yet, and do his share of bush travelling in vacation. Life is but a battlefield at best, and we, the survivors115 of more than one decisive action, must bow to the merciful fate which has kept us so far unscathed, while in[Pg 199] secret we make moan over those who lie beneath green turf or murmuring wave, desert sand or wild-wood tree; whose place in our hearts, spite of careless speech and smiling brow, may never be filled up.
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1
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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dames
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| n.（在英国）夫人（一种封号），夫人（爵士妻子的称号）( dame的名词复数 )；女人 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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6
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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7
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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10
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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serried
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| adj.拥挤的；密集的 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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14
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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fending
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| v.独立生活，照料自己( fend的现在分词 )；挡开，避开 | |
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17
hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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nag
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| v.(对…)不停地唠叨；n.爱唠叨的人 | |
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warrior
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| n.勇士，武士，斗士 | |
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rib
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| n.肋骨，肋状物 | |
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isle
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| n.小岛，岛 | |
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fluster
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| adj.慌乱，狼狈，混乱，激动 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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celebrity
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| n.名人，名流；著名，名声，名望 | |
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accolade
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| n.推崇备至，赞扬 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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charade
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| n.用动作等表演文字意义的字谜游戏 | |
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enacted
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| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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32
divers
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| adj.不同的；种种的 | |
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33
shearing
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| n.剪羊毛，剪取的羊毛v.剪羊毛( shear的现在分词 )；切断；剪切 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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45
groom
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| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
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46
vocation
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| n.职业，行业 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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51
bleakness
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| adj. 萧瑟的, 严寒的, 阴郁的 | |
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52
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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53
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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54
buckle
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| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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57
premier
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| adj.首要的；n.总理，首相 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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hind
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| adj.后面的，后部的 | |
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oblique
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| adj.斜的，倾斜的，无诚意的，不坦率的 | |
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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winces
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| 避开，畏缩( wince的名词复数 ) | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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receded
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的过去式和过去分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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luminary
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| n.名人，天体 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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resound
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| v.回响 | |
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emanate
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| v.发自，来自，出自 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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anticipations
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| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
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exuberance
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| n.丰富；繁荣 | |
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inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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overflow
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| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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sanguine
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| adj.充满希望的，乐观的，血红色的 | |
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judiciously
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| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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hacks
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| 黑客 | |
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organisation
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| n.组织，安排，团体，有机休 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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premise
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| n.前提；v.提论，预述 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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procurable
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| adj.可得到的，得手的 | |
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entrenched
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| adj.确立的，不容易改的(风俗习惯) | |
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skittishly
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partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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magenta
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| n..紫红色（的染料）；adj.紫红色的 | |
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prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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101
clout
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| n.用手猛击；权力，影响力 | |
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102
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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compensated
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| 补偿，报酬( compensate的过去式和过去分词 )； 给（某人）赔偿（或赔款） | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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108
sling
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| vt.扔；悬挂；n.挂带；吊索，吊兜；弹弓 | |
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revels
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| n.作乐( revel的名词复数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉v.作乐( revel的第三人称单数 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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112
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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113
obtrude
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| v.闯入；侵入；打扰 | |
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114
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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115
survivors
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| 幸存者，残存者，生还者( survivor的名词复数 ) | |
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