the cost of keeping them at Reigate came
to L150 a day. The course, a stretch of five miles of road, over which
horses were to be driven in the four different styles was measured from
Kennersley Manor, three miles south of the White Hart, nearly into
Crawley. Snow fell on the tenth, the day before the match; Lord Lonsdale
borrowed a snow plough and sent it over the road. At noon on the day of
the race the horses and carriages were taken to the course; at five and
twenty minutes to one Lord Lonsdale drove up in a pair-horse brougham;
at one o'clock to the second he trotted his single horse, War Paint, to
the starting-point, and War Paint bounded down the road. War Paint took
13 minutes 39-1/5 seconds over the five miles; it would have been twenty
seconds less, but a brewer's dray had blocked the road. The pair-horse
was waiting with Blue and Yellow, two Americans, in it; the change took
three seconds, and Blue and Yellow galloped back to the start in 12
minutes 51-2/5 seconds. It was the turn for the coach, and it took
36-3/5 seconds to change across; a groom drove the team to the starting
point, a yard before it Lord Lonsdale caught up the reins, and the four
horses swept up the rise to Crawley again. Fifteen minutes and nine
seconds and two-fifths the four horses took; the leaders were Silk and
Everton King, the wheelers Conservative and Whitechapel, and they left
their driver something over seventeen minutes to ride postillion back.
It took 40-2/5 seconds to change from coat and hat for riding, and
exactly at seventeen minutes to the hour Lord Lonsdale rode off on
Draper, a chestnut, with a bay mare, Violetta, for the pair. Draper and
Violetta went over the last five miles in 13 minutes 55-4/5 seconds, and
in 56 minutes 55-4/5 seconds the twenty miles were covered. And so the
great race ended.

The Pilgrims' Way dropping down like white ribands over the shoulder of
the down into Reigate we have already seen. On the other side of the
town the high road climbs up again to the crest of the ridge--a road
paved and metalled to stand the perpetual wear of shod wheels grating
down the hill. At the highest point of the road is one of the finest
views in England; one of the finest, Cobbett thought, in all the world.
The red roofs of the town cluster among trees below; beyond is all the
Weald to the Devil's Dyke and Chanctonbury Ring, best of all landmarks
of the Sussex downs. The separate views of the Weald along the chalk
rid