Anyone not knowing the sport-loving proclivities of the Irish cannot picture the excitement there was in the country over this event. Even the peasant women who knew nothing about racing but something about men, bet on their fancy, some for the one with the curly hair, others for the brave blue eyes, and so on.
Each of the brothers had to ride 12 stone and be on his own horse. The Beresford Blue was worn by them all. Lord Charles, being the eldest, donned the black cap, which sounds rather as if he were condemning someone to death; the others wore white and blue caps respectively to distinguish between them.
THE FAMOUS BERESFORD BROTHERS’ RACE
(1) LORD WILLIAM; (2) LORD MARCUS; (3) LORD CHARLES
Lord Charles thought he had a winner in the black thoroughbred he brought over from England for the race, named Night Walker, which had been bred by a man named Power, the sporting tenant of the course. Lord William rode his grey mare Woodlark, and Lord Marcus a bay gelding, The Weasel. I like to picture these affectionate, sporting brothers jogging off to the starting-post, all eager and happy.
They got away well without delay, and at a cracking pace. Riding boot to boot, charging each fence side by side until near the winning-post, all riding straight and square like the sportsmen they were. Soon the buzz of voices ceased, and a tense silence made itself felt, for the last fence was being neared, and still all were abreast, but now it became apparent that Night Walker had done enough. The struggle then remained between the Weasel and the Woodlark, the latter winning by a short head, so the crowd had some excitement in return for their long journeys and, in many cases, the night spent on the course to secure a good place.
Lord Charles thought his horse got a chill coming over on the boat, and was therefore not up to his best form. Lord Marcus remarked that while each fancied himself enormously he enthusiastically eulogised the other. The photograph of the race here reproduced is taken from the picture hanging at Curraghmore, Lady Waterford kindly having had it taken for me to use in this book. Other races were ridden in that day by the brothers, but not as winners. The tall hat and pink coat worn by Lord William in one of these races inaugurated, I believe, the now common custom of riding in pink at hunt meetings.
The Beresfords all seem to have the whisper understood by horses and dogs, for they have been able to make them do some wonderful things. Lord William’s uncle once jumped a hunter over a dining-room table at Melton one night for a bet. Lord Charles, in his book, tells the characteristic story of his having led a queer-tempered thoroughbred from the road in Eaton Square into the house, along a passage, round the dining-room table, and out again, without disaster. The only sign of rebellion or annoyance on the part of the horse was to kick at the fire in passing just by way of salutation, and to show there was no ill feeling. This enterprise, of course, Beresford like, was for a bet.
At many gymkhanas I have seen Lord William do extraordinary tricks and feats of horsemanship, but of that later.