At King George’s coronation, Lord Kitchener rode another great race-horse Moifaa, the Liverpool winner in 1904, while the property of Mr. Spencer Gollan. The horse was afterwards sold to King Edward.
When Derby time came round again in 1901, Volodyovski fulfilled Lord William’s hopes and predictions, though, alas, not in his name, for the rules of racing are that death cancels the lease of a horse, therefore the luck of that Derby fell to Mr. W. C. Whitney, and I do not think there was a soul on that racecourse, including Mr. Whitney himself, who did not wish Lord William had been there, and the win his.
Some few weeks after Lord William’s death there was a good deal of discussion and some heated arguments between Lady William and Lady Meux as to the ownership of the horse, Lady William maintaining it was her late husband’s horse and therefore now hers; Lady Meux declared it was hers, and the Jockey Club were at last asked to decide; they adopted the usual course of leaving the disputants to have it settled by the law of the land. It came for hearing, fortunately, before that fine old sporting Judge Grantham, I say fortunately because he was perhaps in a position to give confidence to both parties in his judgment, owing to his racing knowledge and experience. He gave it as his opinion Lord William’s death cancelled the lease of the horse.
Lady Meux had bred Voly, being the only woman who has ever bred a Derby winner, and she was so excited at his winning that the moment he passed the winning-post she was out of her grand-stand box and claimed the right not usual to ladies of entering the weighing-in enclosure, and she then followed “Zee pet,” as she called him, down the course, through the crowd to the saddling paddock a good quarter of a mile away and then untied the little bit of blue and brown ribbon mixed up in the horse’s headgear, which he had carried throughout the race. While patting and caressing the horse she excitedly exclaimed, “It is my horse and I want the ribbons for my museum,” which I have not seen, but have been told it is a very entertaining place full of a variety of interesting things, now in the possession of Admiral Sir Hedworth Meux, well known as Ladysmith Lambton.
Mr. Whitney’s colours were similar to Lord William’s, being the same light blue jacket, but with a brown cap, which when at some distance looked very like Lord William’s black.
It may be wondered why in the course of these memories I have made no mention of Lord Delaval, the youngest Beresford brother; it is because he decided to seek fortune abroad and settled down in Mexico; the reason for this exodus being to win the object of his affection for his bride, which rested on whether he fulfilled his promise to make a fortune first. It is tragic that when nearing the point that he could return with his promise fulfilled, he was killed in a railway accident in the United States on December 26th, 1906.
With the usual Beresford spirit he had thrown his whole attention and energy into his work, and when he died owned 196,000 acres with nine miles of irrigation canals and several large reservoirs, having quickly grasped that what caused failure so often on ranches was want of water, without plenty of which cattle cannot thrive.
Lord William’s eldest brother died in 1895 at the early age of fifty-one; he had been ill a long time, the result of a hunting accident. Lord Bill felt his death very much. Out of these devoted brothers only two are left now, Lord Beresford and Lord Marcus.
Reluctantly I lay down my pen, it has been a pleasure writing of our dear friend, and living through some of the old times again.
I like to remember my earliest experience in First Aid was in patching up the head of a Beresford, a kinsman of Lord William’s and mine, though at the time he was a very small boy aged about eight years. A dear chubby-faced lad whose people lived at Bedale, not far from my old home in Yorkshire. Little Walter Beresford and his brother Henry, grandchildren of Admiral Sir John Beresford on their father’s side and Lord Denman on their mother’s, came to play with my young brother, and Walter took the opportunity to fall from top to bottom of the cellar stone stairs while playing hide and seek, though they were on forbidden ground. I was very proud of my work when I had done patching up the poor little head, and remember how plucky the lad was, but then he was a Beresford and what is born in the bread comes out in the butter. I fear this is not a correct quotation, but will do quite nicely.