She loved the magnificent team of Suffolk Punches that appeared precisely as they do in the field, in harness adopted from all time by Suffolk agriculturists, drawing an old-fashioned Suffolk wagon, while the fact that they were led by men in smock frocks instead of being driven, and thus perfectly in character, and representative of "Old England," appealed strongly to the public, who cheered them to the echo.
With perfect simplicity the Suffolk farm hands demonstrated how heavy horses harnessed in twos, may be made to wheel in mazy figures by just talking to them. In true old country style, the man walking beside the leading animal, shouted in broad Suffolk his commands to him, "t'other waa," and "th' iver waa" (my way), the man walking beside the third horse repeating the commands, and at every order, round came the four in perfect style, not a hand on their harness to steady or lead them, wheeling their great wagon in wonderful evolutions, amid thunders of applause that would not be silenced.
From the horse-lover's point of view, the horses for mail and other phaetons was a noteworthy event, and closely watched by Tom Bulteel.
A most stirring competition of the nation was seen in the pairs. Mr. Vanderbilt entered three teams; Rensslaer drove his own horses, and the French appointments, for which 50 per cent. of the marks are given, were extremely smart. Such a show of pairs, or anything like it, had never been collected in any ring; indeed, said the experts, never had so perfect a class been brought together, and the work of the judges was herculean. The excitement was intense as the twenty-two were reduced to a select eight, including two of Rensslaer's, two of Mr. Vanderbilt's, and one of Mr. Bates'.
Lossie ever after viewed Rensslaer with more respect as the owner of the superb pair of carriage horses, named after a couple of popular sporting peers, that never appeared without creating a furore of admiration—she would above all things have liked them for her own, and Carlton to sit with her behind them.
He on his part viewed them with indifference, but gave unstinted praise to the class for American Trotters with records of 2.30 or better; fleet as Atlanta, slenderly beautiful as greyhounds, they were a revelation to him of what a horse could look and be, and he and Gay laughed heartily as they compared them with the quadrupeds that in all seriousness they had called Trotters, and he understood better now Rensslaer's prejudice against the sport as practised in England.
"By Jove!" exclaimed Chris, "he can drive!" as Rensslaer, for some time last of the competitors, crept up to the front, Storm Cloud beating them by the way he went round the very small turns at top speed, passing Sensation, and thus forcing the other to a break, and afterwards, when he had won, being driven round at full speed with his checker-rein, and over-draw bit taken off, so as to show what manners he had.
This was the same horse that displayed great speed in a pair in the parade before the King, being the only pair capable of taking their turns fast.
Yes, Gay decided that was her favourite day, when the sweetest and loveliest lady in all the land, sat with the King in the Royal box, and frankly showed her love for horses by the delight she evinced in their performances, and the frequent applause she gave them, laughing as heartily as Gay did, at the humours of the donkeys in the coster's show.
As if in answer to Tom Bulteel's pertinent remark that the saddle classes could not be satisfactorily judged, unless the judges took a turn in the saddle, one of them, himself a consummate horseman, rode the chargers in turn to judge of their capacities, and the public applauded loudly when he mounted Rensslaer's bay roan gelding, a charger so perfectly trained in the pretty action and deportment of the Haute École, that it performed a step-dance with all the precision possible in a creature with four legs.