n. He was in one of his
vicious humours. He insisted that Hyde Park should be the place of the
contest. In vain did Comyn and I plead for some less public spot on
account of the disagreeable advertisement the matter had received. His
Grace would be damned before he would yield; and Lewis, adding a more
forcible contingency, hinted that our side feared a public trial. Comyn
presently shut him up.

"Do you ride the horse after his Grace is thrown," says he, "and I
agree to get on after and he does not kill you. 'Sdeath! I am not of the
army," adds my Lord, cuttingly; "I am a seaman, and not supposed to know
a stirrup from a snaffle."

"'Od's blood!" yelled the captain, "you question my horsemanship, my
Lord? Do I understand your Lordship to question my courage?"

"After I am thrown!" cries his Grace, very ugly, and fingering the
jewels on his hilt.

Sir John was awakened by the noise, and turning heavily spilled the
whole of a pint of port on the duke's satin waist coat and breeches.
Whereat Chartersea in a rage flung the bottle at his head with a curse,
which it seems was a habit with his Grace. But the servants coming in,
headed by my old friend the chamberlain, they quieted down. And it was
presently agreed that the horse was to be at noon in the King's Old
Road, or Rotten Row (as it was then beginning to be called), in Hyde
Park.

I shall carry to the grave the memory of the next day. I was up betimes,
and over to the White Horse Cellar to see Pollux groomed, where I found
a crowd about the opening into the stable court. "The young American!"
called some one, and to my astonishment and no small annoyance I was
greeted with a "Huzzay for you, sir!" "My groat's on your honour!"

This good-will was owing wholly to the duke's unpopularity with all
classes. Inside, sporting gentlemen in hunting-frocks of red and green,
and velvet visored caps, were shouldering favoured 'ostlers from the
different noblemen's stables; and there was a liberal sprinkling of the
characters who attended the cock mains in Drury Lane and at Newmarket.
At the moment of my arrival the head 'ostler was rubbing down the
stallion's flank.

"Here's ten pounds to ride him, Saunders!" called one of the
hunting-frocks.

"Umph!" sniffed the 'ostler; "ride 'im is it, yere honour? Two hunner
beast eno', an' a Portugal crown i' th' boot. Sooner take me chaunces o'
Tyburn on 'Ounslow 'Eath. An' Miller waurna able to sit 'im, 'tis no for
th' likes o'