FOOTNOTES:
[6] An excellent account of this adventurer is given by that gifted writer Mr. Theodore Andrea Cook, in Eclipse and O'Kelly, published two years ago.
Colonel Mellish—His early life and accomplishments—His equipage—A great gambler—£40,000 at a throw!—Posting—Mellish's racing career—His duel—In the Peninsula—Rural retirement and death—Colonel John Mordaunt—His youthful freaks—An ardent card-player—Becomes aide-de-camp to the Nawab of Oude—Anecdotes—Death from a duel—Zoffany in India and his picture of Mordaunt's cock-fight—Anecdotes of cock-fighting.
Amongst the sporting characters of the past who flung their fortunes to the winds at the gaming-table or on the race-course there were not a few who were possessed of considerable intelligence and charm. Such a one was the handsome, gallant, and accomplished Colonel Mellish, beyond all doubt the Admirable Crichton of his day.
The son of Mr. Charles Mellish, of Blyth Hall, near Doncaster, a gentleman devoted to antiquarian research and obviously of very different disposition from his son, Henry Mellish was born in 1780, and coming into his kingdom after a long minority, plunged at once with infinite zest into every form of patrician dissipation. It has been said that he was at Eton, but his name does not appear in the school lists. At any rate, whatever his school, he seems to have distinguished himself at it by a variety of escapades, which culminated in his running away and flatly refusing to return. In his seventeenth year he joined the 11th Light Dragoons, from which he exchanged into the 10th Hussars, the smartest light cavalry regiment of the day, with the Prince of Wales for its colonel. There is a tradition that Mellish was granted perpetual leave lest his extravagance should corrupt the young officers; but his subsequent career proves that he must at least have seen enough of soldiering to have learned his duty. After he had left the 10th Hussars, his name appears in the army list as an officer of the 87th Royal Irish Regiment, and also as a major of the Sicilian Legion, in which many Englishmen held honorary commissions. At the same time, his name figures in the list of Lieutenant-Colonels. Mellish was no mere fashionable spendthrift. He was a man of many accomplishments. Nature, indeed, seemed to have qualified him for taking the lead, and to have given him a temperament so ardent, as made it almost impossible for him ever "to come in second."
He understood music, and could draw, and paint in oil colours. As a companion he was always in high spirits, and talked with animation on every subject; whilst his conversation, if not abounding in wit, was ever full of interesting information founded on fact and experience. He had a manner of telling and acting a story that was perfectly dramatic. He was at home with all classes, and could talk with the gentleman and associate with the farmer.
In Mellish culminated all the best of these various qualities which were considered the appanage of a patrician sportsman of his day. A most expert whip, no man drove four-in-hand with more skill and with less labour than he did; and to display that skill he often selected very difficult horses to drive, satisfied if they were goers. As a rider he was equally eminent: for years after his death his memory lingered in many a hunt, where he had led all the light weights of Leicestershire, Rutlandshire, and Yorkshire, when he was himself riding fourteen stone. His was the art of making a horse do more than other riders, and he accustomed them, like himself, "to go at everything."
The following stanza, one of those in a famous hunting song composed when Lord Darlington, afterwards Duke of Cleveland, hunted the Badsworth country, commemorates the young sportsman, who was well-known as a daring rider with these hounds:—
Behold Harry Mellish, as wild as the wind,
On Lancaster mounted, leave numbers behind;
But lately returned from democrat France,
Where, forgetting to bet, he's been learning to dance.
A melancholy occurrence once gave him an opportunity of displaying, not only his filial affection, but also his determination as a horseman. Having heard the alarming intelligence of his mother's illness, he mounted one of his barouche-horses to proceed to London, and actually rode from Brighton to East Grinstead, a distance of twenty miles, in an hour and twenty minutes; the strain of this feat was so severe that on arrival at his destination the gallant horse which had carried him fell dead.
As a runner he was by no means to be despised. He beat Lord Frederick Bentinck (renowned for fleetness of foot) in a running match on Newmarket Heath. For everything connected with sport Colonel Mellish possessed a natural aptitude, as was universally recognised.
In appearance he was a big man, who even as a youth weighed some twelve stone. Nearly six feet high and admirably proportioned, the pallor of his complexion was rendered more noticeable by his black hair and brilliant eyes. In dress he had a great fondness for light hues and usually wore a white "boat hat,"[7] white trousers, and silk stockings of the same colour. When he arrived on the course at Newmarket his barouche, which he drove himself, was drawn by four beautiful white horses, whilst two out-riders in crimson liveries, also mounted on white steeds, preceded this brilliant turn-out. Behind rode another groom leading a thoroughbred hack, whilst yet another waited at the rubbing post with a spare horse in case of accidents.
At that time he had thirty-eight race-horses in training, seventeen coach-horses, twelve hunters, four chargers, and a number of ordinary hacks. The expenses of his establishment were enormous. Besides these he lost very large sums at the gaming-table, where he once staked £40,000 at a single throw and lost it. At his own home he gambled away vast sums, and a table was formerly preserved at Blyth on which its former owner had once lost £40,000 to the Prince Regent. At one sitting at a London Club—it is said at Brooks's, though Mellish's name does not appear in the list of former members—he rose the loser of £97,000, and was leaving the Club-house, when he met the Duke of Sussex, who, hearing what had happened, persuaded him to return and try his luck once more. This he did, and in two or three hours won £100,000 off the Duke, who paid as much of this sum as he could, promising to settle the rest by a life annuity of £4000. It would, however, seem somewhat doubtful whether the entire debt was ever liquidated.
As a matter of fact such large sums were often lost at hazard that it was no infrequent thing for losers to compromise their debt by paying an annuity to fortunate opponents. The impression that in old days all gambling liabilities were scrupulously discharged on the spot is not based upon any very solid foundation, and winners sometimes had the greatest difficulty in getting their money. Under such circumstances defaulters were occasionally posted.
The expression "posting a man" for not having paid a debt of honour is now more or less figurative, but, as recently as the beginning of the nineteenth century, defaulters were publicly posted.
In September 1824, for instance, all Brighton was surprised to find the following placard posted up at Lucombe's Library and other places of the same sort:—
Brighton, September 8, 1824.
Twice have I applied to the Earl of S. for the settlement of a bet, and twice, having given him the offer of a reference, I was under the necessity of requesting the satisfaction of a gentleman, which he refused. As such, I post the Earl of S. as a man who constantly refuses to pay his debts of honour, and a coward.
W.T.
The above placard is said to have been induced by the refusal of a certain Peer to answer a demand of £2000, for which no satisfactory claim could be produced.
To guard against the possibility of a duel, warrants were issued against the nobleman and Mr. W.T. by the local magistrates. The Earl was easily found, and bound in a recognisance of the peace. Mr. W.T., however, could not be discovered, it being declared that he feared criminal proceedings being taken.
Most of the gamblers of a century ago were men of careless disposition, and Colonel Mellish in particular lived in such a whirl of excitement and gambled in such tremendous sums that a few thousands more or less were at this time very little to him. His life was devoted to frolics of every kind. On one occasion after a ball at Doncaster, Mellish and the Duke of Clarence sallied out for a lark and assisted in the arrest of a man who had been fighting in the street. When the party reached the prison, Mellish locked the Royal Duke in a cell and went off with the key, which he delivered to his brother the Prince of Wales. The Duke on his liberation took the joke very good-humouredly.
It may be added that, like most born gamblers, Colonel Mellish lost his money with the greatest coolness, ever accepting ill-luck with imperturbable equanimity. The hazardous joys of racing were to him an irresistible lure, and no more ardent supporter of the Turf than he ever lived. His career as an owner of racers only extended over about seven years, from 1801 to 1808, when financial difficulties obliged him to abandon the sport to which he was devoted. The greatest financial reverse he suffered was when Mr. Clifton's Fyldener won the St. Leger in 1806. Over a million guineas are said to have changed hands over this race, and Colonel Mellish lost an enormous sum. Nevertheless, as a judge of racing there was no man held to be his equal. If indeed judgment in such matters could preserve any one from ruin, then Mellish should have kept his fortune. Endowed with mental qualities far above those possessed by most sporting men, the owner of Blyth soon attained a remarkable knowledge of the intricacies of the Turf, and the best judges used to declare that they never knew a man who was better able to gauge the powers, the qualities, and capabilities of the racer, as well as the exact weights he could carry, and the precise distances he could run. Unfortunately there was one side of the Turf life of his day which he could not master, that was the rascality of those who took care not to leave to accident the chances which made ultimate success certain.
Colonel Mellish was not only a most excellent judge of a race-horse, but well acquainted with all the intricacies of managing a racing-stable. He was universally admitted to be possessed of an extraordinary capacity for making matches, and as a handicapper was declared to be supreme. A careful investigation, however, of the old Racing Calendars from 1805 to 1807 hardly confirms such an estimate of the Colonel's abilities in this direction. In those three years he won 38 and received forfeit for 15 matches, losing 57 and paying forfeit for 31; that is, he won £11,505 and lost £18,600 in stakes. In addition to this he must, of course, have lost very large sums in bets.
The most famous of all his matches was that between his Sancho and Lord Darlington's Pavilion. There were really three matches. In the New Claret Stakes at the Newmarket first Spring Meeting, 1805, Pavilion beat Sancho and some other horses (6 to 4 Sancho, 7 to 1 Pavilion). Mellish then challenged Lord Darlington, and a match was run in the summer at Lewes—four miles for three thousand guineas, Buckle riding Sancho and Chifney Pavilion. Sancho (the non-favourite, 2 to 1) won easily. Another match was run over the same distance on the same course for two thousand guineas, 6 to 4 on Sancho, who broke down badly. Mellish on this occasion lost altogether five thousand guineas, though at one moment before the race he had been offered twelve hundred to have it off. A third match for two thousand guineas over a mile at Brighton was made in the same year, but Sancho had to pay forfeit. Colonel Mellish's colours were white with crimson sleeves. His trainer was Bartle Atkinson, who from the time of entering his service in 1802, till 1807, turned out what was probably a greater number of winners than any other private trainer for one owner has ever done in the same period of time. In 1804 and 1805 he won the St. Leger with Sancho and Staveley, and trained many winners besides. In spite of all these successes, racing proved most disastrous to the Colonel's fortune, and like the vast majority of racing-men of this stamp, he left the Turf a ruined man. In his palmy days it is said that he never opened his mouth to make a bet under £500.
He wanted to be everything at once, and as the saying went, he was "at all in the ring"; till by deep play, by racing and expenses of every kind, and in every place, he found it necessary to part with his estate in order to satisfy the demands which obsessed him on all sides.
Though the most popular of men, Colonel Mellish once had a serious altercation with the Honourable Martin Hawke, and the result was a duel, when the following conversation is said to have occurred—it shows the light-hearted spirit of the combatants.
Mellish. "Take care of yourself, Hawke, for by —— I shall hit you."
Hawke. "I will, my lad, and let me recommend you to take care of your own canister!"
The seconds, on hearing this, agreed that they should not take aim, but fire by signal, which was done. The Colonel missed, but Hawke's shot took effect, by passing round the rim of his opponent's stomach, and eventually penetrating his left arm; on which Mellish exclaimed, "Hawke, you have winged me! Lend me your neckcloth to tie up the broken pinion!" This was immediately complied with, and the arm being bound up, they both returned in the same chaise, as good friends as ever!
This duel was fought in 1807 in a field by the roadside, and originated in a quarrel about the Yorkshire election, from which both duellists were returning in their drags.
Mellish would appear to have run a great risk of being killed, for the Honourable Martin Hawke was a singularly gifted man and could do incredible things with a pistol. Indeed his skill in that direction was probably never equalled. His nerve and courage were of the highest order.
Mr. Hawke once fought a duel near Brussels with a certain Baron Smieten. Whilst the seconds were measuring out the distance, he amused himself by drawing a mail-coach with his stick on the bank of a sandy ditch. One of the seconds, a guardsman, came up just as the finishing touches were being put to the coachman's whip, and said "All's ready," to which Hawke replied, "Just let me put the lash to this fellow's whip." Having touched off this, he instantly proceeded to touch up his antagonist, mentioning that as he had put him to so much trouble (they fought over the frontiers) he must give him a touch, but would content himself with spoiling his waltzing for a little; naming where and how he would operate—and this he did to a hairbreadth.
At one time the patron of all the superior pugilists, Colonel Mellish first brought many of them into notice. He arranged the first battle ever fought by the famous Tom Cribb, who was matched by the Colonel against Nicholl, who beat him. Unfortunately for his gallant backer, Cribb on this occasion entered the ring very drunk, and, of course, fell an easy prey to an antagonist whom in future days the champion of England would have beaten in ten minutes. Colonel Mellish likewise made the match betwixt Gully and the Game Chicken; the former of whom he caused to "give in," much against his inclination. The Colonel's humanity on this occasion cost him a large sum, as he had backed Gully heavily. Nevertheless, he insisted upon his yielding, the man being reduced to such a state of weakness that his supporter was afraid of an accidental blow proving fatal.
At the time of the Peninsular campaign a regular crisis occurred in Mellish's affairs, and Sir Rowland Ferguson appointed him his aide-de-camp, and he went out to Spain. Previous to the battle of Vimeiro, as the general officers were dining together, one of them observed to Sir Rowland Ferguson that if the thing were not impossible, he should have declared that an officer he had seen was a gentleman whom he had left a week or two ago in the cockpit at York, with cocks engaged in the main there—his name he had understood was Mr. Mellish. "The very same man," returned Sir Rowland, "he is now my aide-de-camp, and I think you will say, when you have the opportunity of knowing more of him, a better officer will not be found," and this proved to be the case. On many different occasions, indeed, the Duke of Wellington declared that a better aide-de-camp than Mellish he had never observed. The undaunted manner with which he encountered danger, the quickness with which he rode, and the precision with which he delivered his orders, never making any mistake in any moment of hurry or confusion, were circumstances which excited much favourable comment from friend and foe alike.
After the battle of Busaco, Colonel Mellish was sent with a flag of truce to the French head-quarters, on a message respecting some prisoners. On his arrival at Leiria, Massena invited him to dinner, and treated him with great attention and respect.
After remaining some time with the army abroad, Colonel Mellish returned home, and after that period engaged no more in military duties. According to rumour his return was owing to the resumption of his former habits of play, which the Duke of Wellington had forbidden; but this is not certain.
The Prince Regent, who was so often accused of forgetting those who had served him, certainly did not justify this reproach in the case of Colonel Mellish; for on his having obtained a small appointment abroad in one of the conquered islands, the Prince made him his equerry, in order to enable him to enjoy the emoluments of it whilst remaining at home.
In addition to this the uncles of the Colonel, who had undertaken the management of his property when he was abroad, enabled him, by their arrangements, to take up his abode at Hodsock Priory, where he had occasionally lived before, and where at a comparatively early age he ended his days. On his way to this farm he had to pass the magnificent mansion and domain of Blyth, the seat of his ancestors and formerly his own, which the vicissitudes of a Turf career had obliged him to sell.
Colonel Mellish, however, accepted his lot with considerable equanimity, and lived at his somewhat modest abode without any mortifying regrets. Having married one of the daughters of the Marchioness of Lansdowne,[8] who brought him a very handsome fortune, his circumstances again became easy, and he was enabled to indulge in those rural pursuits which appear early and late to have been congenial to his disposition. He took to coursing and established a fine stud of greyhounds. He also bred cattle with great success, winning many prizes at northern cattle shows, and obtaining high prices for his stock, and more fortunate than most men of his disposition and tastes, ended his life in comfort and peace. His death, however, occurred at a comparatively early age, for he fell a victim to dropsy in his thirty-seventh year.
Another gallant sporting man, though of quite another description, was the Anglo-Indian Colonel John Mordaunt, a natural son of the Earl of Peterborough.
John Mordaunt, as a boy, was too wild to learn much at school, his whole time being devoted to playing the truant; as he often said, "one half of his days were spent in being flogged for the other half." Devoted to cards from youth, he received many a castigation in consequence. "You may shuffle, Mordaunt, but I can cut," was the remark made to him by his schoolmaster on more than one occasion.
In consequence of this unsatisfactory behaviour, when the boy left school he was about as learned as when he first was sent there. His guardians were very much annoyed at this and blamed his master, upon which young Mordaunt very handsomely stepped forward to exculpate the latter, whose attention he declared to have been unparalleled. Slipping off his clothes, he exhibited the earnestness of the good man's endeavours; humorously observing, that as nothing could be got into his brains, his master had done his best to impress his instructions on the opposite seat of learning.
When the moment came for the youth to pass muster before the India directors he could not be found, and it was nearly too late when he was at last discovered playing marbles in Dean's Yard. No time, however, was wasted in driving him up to Leadenhall Street, where, more bent on frivolity than on answering the grave questions put by his examiners, he was near being rejected as an idiot, when one of the quorum, who understood such a disposition well and who probably wished to see John appointed, asked him if he understood cribbage. In an instant young Mordaunt's attention was thoroughly roused, his eyes glistened, and regardless of every matter relative to his appointment, he pulled out a pack of cards, so greasy as scarcely to be distinguished, and offered "to play the gentleman for any sum he chose!"
The youth now felt himself at home, and speedily convinced his examiners that, however ignorant he might be of the classics, he was a match for any of them at cards! He was passed, and despatched to Portsmouth to embark on an Indiaman ready to sail with the first fair wind; but as there seemed no likelihood of this for some days, the person who had charge of him put him on board and returned to town. Needless to say, Mordaunt at once got away to shore, where he played a number of pranks before the ship eventually set sail.
On arriving at Madras young Mordaunt was received with open arms by all his countrymen; but General Sir John Clavering, who was then Commander-in-Chief in India, and who was, accordingly, second on the council at Calcutta, having promised to provide for him, Mordaunt went on to Bengal, where he was appointed an honorary aide-de-camp to that officer, still retaining his rank on the Madras establishment. In consequence of this he was afterwards subjected to much ill-will.
The young soldier unfortunately was quite uneducated, not being able even to write an ordinary letter without making many mistakes. Study was little to his taste, and he made scarcely any effort to remedy this disadvantage or improve himself. Nevertheless, he excelled in most things which he undertook entirely by natural intuition. His ignorance of writing was the more remarkable as he spoke English with an excellent diction and even refinement of phrase, though he could not write two lines of it correctly. He spoke the Hindoo language fluently, and was a tolerable Persian scholar. Mordaunt's weakness as a writer was once strikingly demonstrated on an occasion where a friend, having borrowed a horse from him for a day or two, wrote to ask if he might keep it a little longer. The Colonel's reply was, "You may kip the hos as long as you lick."
Subjected to a good deal of chaff on account of this failing, which he himself realised, Mordaunt was generally very good-tempered, though quick with an answer when any one he did not care for attempted to make him a butt. On one occasion a very worthy young gentleman of the name of James P——, who was rather of the more silly order of beings, thinking he could take the liberty of playing with, or rather upon him, called out to Mordaunt, before a large party, desiring him to say what was the Latin for a goose. The answer was brief. "I don't know the Latin for it, but the English is James P——."
It should be mentioned that the above question was put to Mordaunt in consequence of his having, in a note sent to a person who had offended him, required "an immediate anser by the bearer." The gentleman addressed, wishing to terminate the matter amicably, construed the word literally, and sent a goose by the bearer; stating also that he would partake of it the next day. This, to a man of Mordaunt's disposition, was the high road to reconciliation; though to nine persons in ten, and especially to those labouring under such a desperate deficiency in point of orthography, it would have appeared highly insulting!
In addition to his almost complete ignorance of calligraphy, Colonel Mordaunt knew absolutely nothing of the ordinary rules of arithmetic. He kept no books, but all his accounts were done on scraps of paper in such an eccentric manner that the figures were only intelligible to himself. It was necessary for him at times to register large financial transactions, and he had immense losses and gains to register in the I.O.U. way. Yet even the most intricate cases never puzzled him; and, at settling times, he was rarely, if ever, found to be in error. This was one of the points in which he was apt to be peremptory; for no sooner did he hear a claim stated, which did not tally with his own peculiar mode of calculation, than he condemned it, in round terms, and would scarcely hear the attempt to substantiate that which he so decidedly denied.
He was a man of most masterful disposition, very impatient of contradiction, especially from his brother Harry, who was in India at the same time. The latter possessed little social charm or originality, but John always treated him with particular consideration. When, however, Harry tried to oppose or argue with him, the Colonel would soon check him with, "Hold your tongue, Harry, you are a puny little fool, and fit for nothing but to be a lord."
Excelling at most things which he attempted, Mordaunt was so much master of his racket, and was so vigorous, that he would always wager on hitting the line from the over-all, a distance of thirty yards, once in three times. As a matter of fact he could beat most people with a common round ruler.
Card-playing, however, was the Colonel's particular passion. He was an expert at most games, being besides acquainted with all the ordinary tricks in the shuffling, cutting, and dealing way. The following is an instance of his skill. On a certain occasion Mordaunt observed that one of his adversaries at whist was remarkably fortunate in his own deals; and, as he was rather a doubtful character, thought it needful to watch him. When Mordaunt came to deal, he gave himself thirteen trumps! This excited the curiosity of all, but particularly of the gentleman in question, who was very pointed in his observations on the singularity of the case. Mordaunt briefly said, "Sir, this was to show you that you should not have all the fun to yourself," and rising from his seat, left the blackleg to ruminate on the obvious necessity of quitting India! Here, however, Mordaunt's goodness of heart showed itself, for he obtained a promise from the whole party to keep the secret, provided the offender instantly left the country; which he did by the first conveyance.
It was well known that the Colonel could arrange the cards according to his pleasure, yet such was the universal opinion of his honour, that no one hesitated to play with him, sober or otherwise, for their usual stakes. His decision, in cases of differences, was generally accepted as final, and many references were made to him, by letter, from very distant places, regarding doubtful points connected with gaming.
It may readily be supposed that Mordaunt was more ornamental than useful in General Clavering's office; however, the latter could not help esteeming him, and had he lived, would probably have effected Mordaunt's removal from the Madras to the Bengal army. The Madras officers never failed to comment, sometimes, indeed, in rather harsh terms, upon the injustice of having on their rolls an officer who never joined his regiment for nearly twenty years, and whose whole time was passed in the lap of dissipation.
Being on a party of pleasure to the northward, and near to Lucknow, the capital of Oude, and the residence of the Nawab of Oude, Asoph ud Doulah, the young soldier was naturally curious to see this potentate and his Court. The free, open temper of Asoph pleased Mordaunt, whose figure and manner made a great impression on his illustrious host, who was devoted to most forms of gambling and sport.
The Nawab in question was an original character. Being desirous of becoming a highly efficient swordsman, he determined to get the best practice possible and exercise his arm to some purpose. For some time he used daily to order from his stables five horses and a couple of bullocks, which he would cut down; the same fate befell five tigers, the same number of bears, and two or three nylgaus.
In a short time Mordaunt became such a favourite, that he was retained by the Nawab at his Court, in the capacity of aide-de-camp, though he never attended at the Palace except when in the mood to do so, or for the purpose of shooting or gambling with its ruler. During this period the various sarcastic attacks directed against Mordaunt, as an absentee from his corps for so many years—amusing himself a good two thousand miles away—were disregarded both by himself and by the supreme Government, of which all the members were personally attached to the Colonel.
Mordaunt was now in the receipt of a handsome salary, and possessed many distinguished privileges under the patronage of the Nawab, who often used to refer Europeans to him on occasions requiring his advice; this he not infrequently did when he needed an excuse for not complying with some demand.
Mordaunt's influence, it should be added, was generally used in a very kindly manner. Old Zoffany, who had come out to India and resided at Lucknow as Court Painter to the Nawab, once, in a humorous moment, painted a full-length picture of that potentate in high caricature. Zoffany lived at Colonel Martine's, whose house was frequented by immense numbers of natives, a number of whom, when the Nawab wanted money, took his jewels to the Colonel's to be pledged. The picture, of course, was seen by some of these men, and it was not long before the Nawab was informed of the joke. The latter, in the first moments of irritation, was disposed to shorten the painter by a head, and to dismiss the Colonel, who was his chief engineer, and had the charge of his arsenal. He was, however, unwilling to do anything without his "dear friend Mordaunt" to whom a message was despatched, requiring his immediate attendance, on "matters of the utmost importance." This being a very usual mode of summoning his favourite, who would attend, or rather visit, only when it pleased himself. As a matter of fact the message would probably have been disregarded, had not the bearer stated that the Nawab was incensed against Martine and Zoffany. Accordingly the Colonel betook himself to the Palace, where he found the Nawab foaming with rage, and about to proceed with a host of rabble attendants to the Colonel's. Mordaunt, however, having got the story out of the Nawab as well as he could, argued him into a state of calmness, sufficient to let his sinister purpose be suspended until the next day, and retired as soon as he could prudently do so; he then, as privately as possible, sent a note to Zoffany warning him of the intended visit.
The bold painter lost no time, and the laughable caricature was in a few hours changed by his gifted hand into a superb portrait of a most decorative kind, bearing far more resemblance to the Nawab than any hitherto painted at regular sittings. Next day the potentate arrived, his mind full of anxiety for the honour of his dignified person. He was attended by Mordaunt, whose feelings for his friend's fate were speedily dissipated, when, on entering the portrait-chamber, the picture in question shone forth so superbly as to astonish and delight the Nawab, who, beaming with pleasure, hurried the picture home, gave Zoffany ten thousand rupees for it, and ordered the person who had informed him of the supposed caricature to have his nose and ears cut off. Mordaunt, however, again interposed, and was equally successful in obtaining the poor fellow's pardon; and as the Nawab declined to keep him as a servant, very generously made him one of his own pensioners.
At another time, the barber who cut the Nawab's hair happened by a slip to draw blood. This was considered an offence of the highest atrocity, because at that time crowned heads throughout India became degraded if one drop of their blood were spilt by a barber. A drawn sword was always held above a barber performing his duty, to remind him of his fate in case of the slightest incision.
In consequence of this prejudice the barber had been condemned to be baked to death in an oven, when Mordaunt applied for his pardon. He could only obtain it conditionally, and certainly the condition was both ludicrous and whimsical. Balloons were just invented when this happened, and Colonel Martine being very ingenious, had made one which had taken up a considerable weight for short distances.
The Nawab changed suddenly from great wrath to a wild hilarity, which continued so long as to alarm Mordaunt; who at last was relieved to hear that instead of being baked, the barber was to mount in the balloon, and to brush through the air according as chance might direct him.
In due course the balloon was sent up in front of the palace, and the barber carried through the air more dead than alive at a prodigious rate. The poor man, however, sustained no injury, the balloon finally descending to earth some five miles from the city of Lucknow.
Mordaunt never allowed the Nawab to treat him with the least disrespect or with hauteur; indeed, such was the estimation in which he was held by that prince, that, in all probability, the latter never showed any sign of wishing to exert his authority. Mordaunt's independence is shown by the following anecdote. The Nawab wanted some alterations to be made in the howdah of his state elephant, and asked Mordaunt's opinion as to the best mode of securing it; the latter very laconically told the Nawab he understood nothing of the matter, he having been born and bred a gentleman, but that probably his blacksmith (pointing to Colonel Martine) could inform him how the howdah ought to be fastened.
This sneer, no doubt, gratified Mordaunt, who, though extremely intimate with Martine, and in the habit of addressing him by various ludicrous but sarcastic nicknames, seemed not to relish that fondness for money, and other doubtful practices, of which he was said to be guilty.
Lord Cornwallis was either unwilling to compel Mordaunt to return to the Madras establishment, or was prevailed on by the Nawab to let him remain on his staff. The Marquis, one day, seeing Mordaunt at his levee, asked him if he did not long to join his regiment. "No, my Lord," answered Mordaunt, "not in the least." "But," continued he, "your services may perhaps be wanted." "Indeed, my Lord," rejoined Mordaunt, "I cannot do you half the service there, that I can in keeping the Nawab amused, while you ease him of his money."
As a bon-vivant, as a master of the revels, or at the head of his own table, few could give greater variety or more complete satisfaction than Mordaunt. He had the best of wines, and spared no expense, though he would take very little personal trouble in providing whatever was choice or rare. He stood on little ceremony, especially at his own house, and, at his friends', never allowed anything to incommode him from a bashful reserve. Whatever was in his opinion wrong, he did not hesitate to condemn.
These observations were very quick, and generally not devoid of humour. His old friend, Captain Waugh, dining with him one day, made such a hole in a fine goose as to excite the attention of Mordaunt, who, turning to his head servant, ordered aloud that whenever Captain Waugh dined at his house, there should always be two geese on the table, one for the Captain, the other for the company.
Colonel Mordaunt was an excellent pistol shot, who could hit the head of a small nail at fifteen yards. Nevertheless when he and a friend engaged in a quarrel of a very serious nature with a third, whom they had accused of some improper conduct at cards, he missed his adversary, who, on the other hand, wounded both Mordaunt and his friend desperately. This was not owing to agitation, but, as Mordaunt expressed in very curious terms at the moment of missing, to the pistol being too highly charged.
The Colonel never entirely recovered from the effects of the pistol shot which he had received in his breast, and though possessed of a vigorous constitution, seemed to descend, as it were, down a precipice into his grave. A very Rochester of his day, inordinately fond of women, he seemed, when at length stricken down, to regret his condition chiefly as depriving him of their society. For some time before this, actuated by that mistaken pride which so often urges men who have done wonders not to allow their decrease of vigour to be noticed or suspected, he had attempted to continue his usual mode of life, and neglecting the warnings given him by one or two serious attacks on his liver, had thus hastened his approach to a most untimely end.
He died in the fortieth year of his age, beloved and regretted by a number of friends to whom his many genuine qualities were known.
An especial reason for the influence enjoyed by Mordaunt over the Nawab was the latter's intimate knowledge of everything connected with the branch of barbarity known as cock-fighting. So devoted was the Prince in question to this form of sport that he often neglected to attend to important business with the residents at his Court in order to indulge in a "main" with him whom he called his "dear friend Mordaunt."
The well-known print representing Colonel Mordaunt's cock-fight depicts a famous battle fought at Lucknow in 1786. Amongst the figures are the Nawab, Colonel Mordaunt, and Colonel Martine, who founded the Martine colleges at Lucknow, Calcutta, and Lyons, and Zoffany himself. The picture, which was painted for Warren Hastings, was carefully preserved in the Palace at Lucknow, but most unfortunately met with a disastrous fate during the Mutiny, when with others of great value it was destroyed.
A water-colour drawing of "The Cock-fight" was, however, made under the last King of Oude in 1853, by "Masawar Khan," a Court miniature-painter, and other copies also exist. The mezzotint of this picture, together with the scarce engraved key published in May 1794, are here reproduced.
Zoffany was a great favourite of Royalty. After the establishment of his reputation in England, he passed many years of his life in India, though in spite of the favour of the Nawab he does not seem to have returned from Lucknow in very opulent circumstances, his industry not having equalled either his reputation or his ability. An excessive devotion to women, and to the Asiatic customs and luxuries, totally precluded the execution of many works which would have brought this painter prosperity. Many of his pictures, however, achieved great popularity. This was especially the case with the "Water Cress Girl," which is engraved. The model, it may not be generally known, was a girl of about sixteen who had achieved a certain notoriety by having been one of a group of nymphs, who ran from the fields of Paddington, to their lodgings in the vicinity of St. Giles's, at noonday, unencumbered with one single habiliment or rag, from head to foot. It was in the summer season, and they had been bathing in a pond, when some wicked wag bundled up and made off with the whole of their clothes.
"The Cock-fight" was certainly one of the most successful works ever executed by Zoffany; the portrait of Mordaunt in particular, according to those who knew him, giving an excellent idea of his manly and elegant appearance.
The Cock-fight at Lucknow.
Engraved by R. Earlom, after Zoffany.
From a Print in the possession of Messrs. Robson & Co., 23 Coventry Street, W.
Key to the Cock-fight.
The Colonel is represented as in the act of handing a cock, which he has backed heavily, in opposition to a bird belonging to the Nawab, who is portrayed in a loose undress on the opposite side of the pit.
Colonel Mordaunt's taste for cock-fighting had, of course, originally been acquired in England, where this somewhat brutal sport would appear to have been most popular towards the middle of the eighteenth century. At that time it was no unusual circumstance to insert clauses in the leases of farms and cottages, which ensured the right of walking a certain number of game-cocks. As the century waned the cockpit began rather to fall into disrepute, but about the years 1793-1794 a revival occurred. Great patrons of cock-fighting were Lord Lonsdale (when Sir James Lowther); the Duke of Northumberland, who fought regular annual mains against Mr. Fenwick at Alnwick and Hexham, as did Lord Mexborough with Sir P. Warburton and Mr. Halton at Manchester; the Duke of Hamilton with Sir H.G. Liddell at Newcastle, and Lord Derby with Mr. Wharton at Preston.
Amongst other lovers of cock-fighting were Colonel Lowther, Mr. Holford, Mr. Bullock, Captain Dennisthorpe, and Mr. George Onslow, out-ranger[9] of Windsor Forest, who was known as "Cocking George."
In 1793 the Cock Pit Royal, St. James's Park, was the scene of more subscription matches than had occurred for some years before, an extra battle, fought on the 13th of December between two red cocks belonging to Colonel Lowther and Vauxhall Clarke for forty guineas, causing particular excitement. Throughout this combat the odds were constantly varying, till Colonel Lowther's cock was suddenly struck down dead at a moment when odds of four and five to one were being laid upon his opponent.
One of the most horrible anecdotes connected with cock-fighting was that of a certain Mr. Ardesoif, the son of a rich cheesemonger, who was at one time well-known in the streets of London, it having been his peculiar hobby to drive his phaeton through those thoroughfares which were the most crowded with traffic. Mr. Ardesoif lived at Tottenham, where he kept a number of game-cocks. One of these birds having refused to fight, the cruel owner savagely had him roasted to death, whilst entertaining his friends. The company, alarmed by the dreadful shrieks of the poor victim, interfered, but were resisted by Ardesoif, who threatened death to any who should oppose him; and in a storm of raging and vindictive delirium, and uttering the most horrid imprecations, he dropped down dead.
A cockpit was a scene not easily matched. On a race or a prize-fight, the betting is nearly finished when the sport begins; but the same state of affairs did not prevail at a cock-fight, where no one backed a cock till he had had a good look at him. In consequence of this all the betting had to be done in a short time, and the noise and apparent confusion of layers and backers were quite bewildering. The betting changed with considerable rapidity—in many a battle the odds would veer round from 100 to 1 on one cock, to 40 to 1 against the same.
The issue of a cock-fight is never quite certain till a cock is actually killed, an apparently moribund bird sometimes proving the unexpected winner.
A very striking instance of this once occurred at Mr. Loftus's cockpit at Newcastle, where a gentleman, on a cock being pounded, betted ten guineas to a crown, which he lost in nearly the space of a minute, as the pounded cock, while his antagonist was pecking in triumph, rose, and after a stroke or two, laid him dead. As luck would have it, while the same gentleman was going from the cockpit to the race-course in his carriage, accompanied by some other gentlemen, one of them observed the absurdity of buying money so dear, to which the other replied, he would bet the same on anything, if he thought he could win; the former gentleman said he would take it. "Done," says the gentleman, "I will bet £10 to a crown that my carriage does not break down on 'going or returning from the race-course.'" The bet was accepted; and after going about 100 yards farther, down came the carriage. And thus, in the course of the same day, he lost his two bets of £10 to 5s. In the course of this week's fighting, there were several guineas betted to shillings, and lost, on the various battles.
Cock-fights as a rule took place in the evening, seven having been the usual hour appointed for the sport to commence.
In the palmy days of cock-fighting there were several celebrated pits in London, the chief of which, of course, was the Cock Pit Royal, which had been much frequented by Charles II. and his courtiers. Another well-known cockpit existed at Moss Alley, Bankside, Southwark, where great battles were contested. At the New Pit, Hoxton, in January, 1794, a number of spirited mains were fought, the gentlemen of Islington having challenged the gentlemen of Hackney for five guineas a battle and fifty guineas the odd battle. Hackney easily proved victorious.
The Royal Cockpit in St. James's Park was taken down in 1810, never again to be rebuilt. The Governors and Trustees of Christ's Hospital, to whom the ground belonged, met on the spot, the very day the lease expired; and, as might naturally be expected from the patrons of such an institution, gave directions for the immediate demolition of the building.
A curious custom which was long ago sometimes enforced at cock-fights prescribed that any one indulging in foul play or not paying his bets should be put into a large basket and drawn up to the roof of the cockpit. This was called being basketed. A man well-known to the sporting world, being once in this predicament, and notwithstanding that he had no money in his pocket and could not expect his bets to be taken, had the fever of betting so strong upon him that in spite of his situation in the basket, he could not help vociferating, as the odds varied, "I'll lay six to four—two to one—five to two—three to one—four to one—five to one—a guinea to a shilling—the long odds, ten pounds to a crown," to the no small diversion of the auditors and spectators, who, at length, commiserating his case and attributing his imprudence to an insurmountable passion for play, shortened his punishment; and when a gentleman present gave him a small sum he took the long odds all the way through, went off with a hundred guineas in his pocket, and from this source alone became a very distinguished character on the Turf.
In Hogarth's print of the cockpit, published in 1759, a shadow of mysterious contour is thrown upon the floor of the pit, the origin of which may be seen to be a gambler who, having been basketed for not paying his debts, is vainly offering his watch as a pledge so that he may be let down and allowed to take his place among the somewhat ill-favoured crowd which is watching the battle. The principal figure in this print represents a nobleman (Lord Bertie) who, though stone-blind, was a zealous patron of cock-fighting, though it is difficult to see how, under these unfavourable circumstances, the sport could have had any attraction for him.
The Preston race-meetings used to be a great rendezvous for cock-fighters. Lord Derby long held a distinguished place among the patrons of the sod, and was reckoned one of the best judges of a cock in England. The excellent walks which his Lordship owned on his own estates, and the number of cocks he bred, ensured him a plentiful supply of fine young birds; consequently his birds never had a feather wrong; this, joined to their true blood, which made them show fight to the last, and the skill of Paul Potter, his feeder, caused Lord Derby to be the winner of many a Preston main.
The following is a specimen of a challenge to a cock match:—
CHALLENGE
The gentlemen of Windsor Forest having lost their annual opponent (who is gone to reside in Somersetshire), wish to show thirty-one in the main for five guineas a battle, and twenty the odds. Adding 10 byes at two guineas a battle for two days' play, to fight at Wokingham, Berks, between the present day and Whitsuntide. Any acceptance of the terms may be made through the medium of this communication, which shall be instantly acceded to and the necessary regulations made in proper form.
C.W.T. & M.
February 22nd, 1794.
Though cock-fighting is now forbidden by law in England, a certain amount of it still goes on in secret, whilst the sport flourishes openly in the North of France and in Spain.
In former days there were regular families of cock-feeders or trainers. The greatest authority on cock-fighting is said to have been Joe Gilliver, who fought cocks for George III. and George IV. in the Royal Cockpit at Windsor. He it was who fought the famous main at Lincoln in 1815. On the occasion there were seven battles for five thousand guineas the main and a thousand guineas a battle. Five battles were won by Gilliver's birds.
The great-nephew of old Joe Gilliver still lives—the last of the cock-fighters—at Cockspur, Polesworth. Over sixty years ago this veteran[10] fought and won a main against Lord Berkeley in Battersea fields, and within the last two decades he vindicated the honour of the English game-cock at Lille, where some birds he took over proved victorious—a particularly fine cock after a successful battle leaping upon the body of its conquered opponent and emitting a series of lusty crows.
Game-cocks are extraordinarily bold birds, and records exist of their having even attacked men. A gentleman, for instance, passing down Park Street was once surprised to find something fluttering about his head, and turning round, received the spur of a game-cock in his cheek. He beat off his antagonist, who, however, instantly returned to the charge, and wounded him again in the shoulder. Another gentleman, passing by at the same time, was also attacked by this feathered desperado.
A game-cock bred by Mr. Hunt of Compton Pauncefoot, Somerset, in 1814, displayed extraordinary courage when three years old. A fox having seized a hen, her cries drew the attention of the cock, who, discovering the fox in the act of carrying off his prey, flew at reynard, and at one blow killed him on the spot, and saved the life of the hen. In 1820 this cock fought a gallant battle at Epsom Races, and won at high odds against him.
The high spirit of the game-cock was once strikingly manifested in a naval action.
By some mistake or other a particularly fine bird was sold with a number of other fowls to Captain Berkeley of the Marlborough, 74, for his sea-stock. The purchase was made previous to the departure of the British fleet that sailed under the gallant Lord Howe, in the month of May 1794, about which time the cock was deposited in the coops on board, for the purpose of being brought to table. On the glorious 1st of June, the fate of the above ship, the intrepid bravery of whose crew led her into the hottest scene of action, hung in the balance. The enemy's shot had destroyed all the convenience made on her poop for keeping the live stock, and the fowls were flying about in different parts of the ship. Some time after the engagement had commenced, all her masts were shot away by the board, and smoke, hurry, and alarm were general. When the main-mast went, broken off about eight feet from the deck, the cock immediately flew to the stump, where he began to flutter his wings, and to crow with all the exultation so commonly observed in a conquering bird; a circumstance so singular in its nature, that the tars who were viewing it conceived a noble resolution from the example, and actually maintained the same sense of triumph as did the cock, until victory and glory crowned the gallant contest.
The spirit of the noble bird became the subject of much observation when the ship arrived in the Hamoaze, and many curious spectators came from different parts of the country to see the feathered hero who had so proudly vindicated the conquering spirit of Old England.
Some time after a silver medal was struck by the orders of Admiral Berkeley; it was hung upon the neck of the old game-cock, who in the parks and around the princely halls of Goodwood passed the remainder of his downy days in honoured ease.