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1800 ; but how long previously the function—to adopt the fashionable phrase—had been instituted is not known. But that convivial chronicle of ninety years must be interesting reading. There is, we may be sure, a goodly number of old West-country names on that yearly dining list. The maintenance of even a popular institution requires a fostering and organising hand. In the case of the Bath Wykehamist dinner, Mr. W. S. M. Goodenough (whom many cricketers will know as the secretary of the Lansdown Cricket Club) is at present the controlling spirit.
the residence of the late General Peel, is shortly HUIL Twicks to be sold. It was built for Lady Suffolk (who enham, died there in 1767, leaving the Hall to her nephew,
Lord Buckinghamshire), and early in this century this historic house was occupied by the “ Lass of Richmond Hill” (Mrs. Fitzherbert), for whom a royal lover sang, “ I'd crowns resign to call her mine," and for whom music has made a melody likely to outlast the old mansion. .
The county balls of 1890 have been well attended, County Balls. notably the Herefordshire, Monmouthshire Hunt,
and Newbury. Sandringham inititated the return to favour of “square" dances. The quadrille was honoured by opening the evening. Truly many a dame and gallant, who must look back to “ forty" with oft-reverted eyes, yet like dancing for its own sake-its rhythm and motion-but who find the swift galops and spinning waltzes a trifle exhausting. The .minuet must yet return. The dance programme must be for all ages, since the young like it, and our fine old English gentleman at seventy can “sprightly lead the ball.” The Market Harborough Ball, held February 6th, was a great success, having the largest attendance on record, many visitors coming from a distance by special trains. Stamford Hall, Rocking, ham Castle, Great Oakley Hall, and most of the big houses in the neighbourhood, furnished large contingents of dames and gallants of high degree.
Notabilities crop up sometimes in unexpected Country towns quarters and in curious associations. The quaint as they look ,- little town of Wallingford is well known to fre
quenters of the river, but mostly in summer-time. Truth to tell, its attractions in winter may seem to the critical non-resident less. But there is a certain amount of delusiveness about the assumed hibernation of a country town. Among other resources in Wallingford, for instance, appears to be a Social and Debating Society, at which, no doubt, all the problems of the universe are in turn discussed, and more or less satisfactorily settled. At a recent meeting, the subjec to fdebate was, “ Which exercises the most influence on mankind-music or poetry?" The opener of the debate took the side of poetry, and he was followed on the other side--as they say in the Law Courts-by Mr. G. D. Leslie, R.A., author of “Our River.” Unfortunately I am unable to report the arguments with which Mr. Leslie championed the cause of music, but it is interesting to note that they prevailed; for the “Heavenly maid ” won on a division by a substantial majority of 22 votes to 14. Who says we are not a musical nation?
not so dull
216 Derby Captain E. R. Owen..
217 Hurst Park Indian Birds
219 News from Leicestershire Our Lost Aquatic Supremacy 226 Arab Blood in Hunters That Fox Again!
231 The Hertfordshire “Old Lady” Bunting
242 Lord Rothschild's .. Falls and Fair Fences
248 Notes from Gloucestershire
The East Sussex Foxhounds
257 Flowers of the Hunt A New Pursuit
:: 260 “ As You Like It!” **Our Van”.
“A Pair of Spectacles “Cease, Rude Boreas"
264 A Chelsea Studio The Shire Horse Show
264 River Resorts—Upper Thames Individual Specimens
265 University Boat Race and Sports The Spring Horse Show
267 Roundabout County Papers Thoroughbreds
267 Correspondence The Hackneys
269 Odds and Ends
Portrait of Captain E. R. Owex.
270 271 271 272 273 274 275 276 276 277 277 279 280 281 281 282 285 288
Captain E. R. Owen. THE readers of BAILY will not have much difficulty in recognising the portrait which this month serves as a frontispiece. It is that of Captain E. R. Owen, than whom none of our gentlemen jockeys is better known or more appreciated. By his friends—the public, too, perhaps-he is generally spoken of as “ Roddy Owen,” in order to distinguish him from an elder brother (Hugh Owen), who also has been regarded for a long time as being, in the same capacity, in the very first rank.
Captain E. R. Owen was born in 1856, of a good old Pembrokeshire family, which settled in Cheltenham some five-andVOL. LIII.NO. 362.
twenty years back. “Roddy”—to give him his familiar name -after fighting his way through Eton, selected the army as a profession. By the help of various tutors he achieved his ambition, and in 1876 was gazetted to the 20th Regiment of Foot, now known as the Lancashire Regiment. His life in the army has not been that of a carpet warrior, for on joining he was at once shipped off to Bermuda. Since, besides a short period in Ireland, he has served in Nova Scotia, Cyprus, Malta, and finally in India, where he had the honour of being A.D.C. to the Viceroy.
It is, however, with Captain Owen in his character of a sportsman that we here have to deal. Ever since 1883, when he came back from India, he has kept his silk jacket, boots, and breeches in constant wear. In fact, he is, on a racecourse, the acknowledged head of the active soldier brigade. So keen and constant is he to his work, that no distance or fatigue is allowed to come between him and a promised mount. Without, perhaps, emulating the fine style of Captain Arthur Coventry, he certainly beats him on a country course, or with an awkward horse ; for Roddy will not be denied so long as his horse can stand upon its legs.
In the matter of winning great steeplechases he has, however, had rather hard luck. As events have since proved, he should-had things gone right with him-have been hailed a winner of the Grand National both on Kilworth (10 st. 12 lb.) and on Ballot Box (10 st. 8 lb.) On Kilworth he has often distinguished himself; in fact, no one can ride as Roddy can that good but shifty customer. At Sandown, Roddy is generally in the front, and he has won many a cheer from the Members' Stand, as he has, from the last fence, artistically handled home the winner. Gradually but surely he has crept into the front rank of winning gentlemen jockeys, until, at the close of 1889, he was found to have made a dead-heat for first place.
It would fill the pages of the magazine to enumerate one-half of Captain Owen's successes. It must suffice to say that at Aldershot he is quite at home; and that he is a terror to the less practised hands that often there don silk. A highly valued correspondent — to whom we owe the information which we have just put on record about Captain Owen's lifegives this little personal reminiscence, which we are sure that our readers will peruse with interest:
“How well I remember Roddy's first attempt at race-riding. He was then quite a boy; still, as I believe, at Eton. In my charge, he came to some polo races at Llandrindod Wells. In compliance with his earnest entreaty I put him on a pony-a very nasty one to ride. So well did he acquit himself-winning cleverly—that soon after the race I told his brother Hugh that he would turn out a second Archer. We all know that poor Fred won his first race in the same