The Running Horse at Merrow, Surrey.

The first point of peculiarity that strikes the traveller on approaching the "Running Horse "is the pictorial anomaly on the front of the house-the sign represents a race-horse with a rider on its back; but the painter has given us a horse standing as still as most horses would be glad to do after having been running horses for more than half a century. Our "Running Horse" then, stands hard by the church in the village of Merrow, (olim Merewe,) about two miles from Guildford, in Surrey, on the road leading from the latter place to London by way of Epsom. It is at the intersection of the high roads leading to Epsom, to Guildford, to Stoke, and to Albury, Shere, and Dorking. The latter road passes over Merrow Downs, upon which, at the distance of a quarter of a mile from our hostel, is the course whereon Guildford races are annually held.

Guildford races formerly attracted a very numerous assemblage of spectators. The elderly inhabitants of the above-named ancient borough relate that, such was the influx of company, not a bed was to be had in Guildford unless secured some VOL. II.-50.

weeks before the sports commenced. From some cause, the nature of which the good people of Guildford have never been able satisfactorily to ascertain, the races have, for several years, gradually declined in celebrity and importance, and at present they are too often but thinly attended. The programme of the sports, which annually issues from the Guildford press, is embellished with a wood-cut, an impression I believe of the same block that has been used for the last century. The course is not considered by sportsmen a good one, but its situation, and the views it commands, are delightful.

When king George the First was at lord Onslow's at Clandon, (the adjoining parish,) he gave a plate of one hundred guineas to be run for; and this is now the principal attraction to the proprietors of horses. The members for the borough of Guildford also give a plate of fifty pounds, and there is generally a subscription plate besides.

Our hostel, the "Running Horse" at Merrow, is the place of rendezvous for all the "running horses." Its stable doors bear highly characteristic and interesting

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THE TABLE BOOK.

trophies of the honours obtained by their
The best
former temporary inmates.
formed pumps that ever trod the floors of
Almack's or the saloons of Carlton palace,
are not more delicately turned than the
shoes, (albeit they are of iron,) which, hav-
ing done their duty on the course, and
brought their high-mettled wearers first to
the winning-post, are now securely nailed
against the honoured portals, as memorials
of his success. They are placed heel to
heel, and within the oval is carved, in rude
characters, the name of the horse, with the
day on which he won for his master the
purse of gold. What an association of
ideas does the simple record convey! Here,
on a fine warm evening in June, the even-
ing preceding

-“ the great, th' important day,
Big with the fate of jockey and of horse,"
arrived the majestic "Cydnus." His fine
proportions were hid from vulgar gaze, by
As he walked
cloths of purest white.
slowly up the village street ridden by his
jockey, a stripling of sixteen, his approach
was hailed by the acclamations of the vil-
lage boys, and the calmer admiration of the
men, all looking forward to their holiday
"Here, I say;
on the succeeding day.
here, here;-here comes one of the racers!
-There's a purty creatur! law-look at
his long legs-law, Jem, I say, look what
long steps he do take-fancy how he must
gallop, if he walks so-purty fellur !—I'm
sure he'll win-mind if he don't now!"
Meanwhile the noble animal arrives at the
inn door-high breeding, whether in biped
or quadruped, is not to be kept waiting
out comes the host in an important bustle,
with the bright key of the stable door
swinging upon his finger. He shows the
way to the best stall, and then takes his
station at the door to keep out the inqui-
sitive gazers, while the jockey and trainer
commence their tender offices of cleaning
and refreshing the horse after his unusual
exercise of walking the public road. This
done, he is fed, clothed, and left to his
repose upon as soft a bed as clean straw
will make, while the jockey and trainer
adjourn to the house, the admiration of the
knot of idlers who are there assembled to
hear the pedigree, birth, parentage, educa-
tion, and merits of " the favourite." Other
horses soon arrive, and the conversation
takes a

more scientific turn, while the jockies make their own bets, and descant learnedly upon those of their masters, till they betake themselves to rest," perchance to dream" of the important event of the succeeding day.

Long before the dew has left the short herbage on the neighbouring downs, the jockies are busily engaged in the stables; and before the sun's heat has exceeded that of an April noon, they are mounted, and gently cantering over the turf, with the double object of airing their horses and showing them the course over which, in a few hours, they are urged, at their utmost speed, in the presence of admiring thousands. What an elating thought for the youthful rider of "the favourite ;" with what delight does he look forward to the hour when the horse and his rider will be the objects of attraction to hundreds of fair one's eyes glancing upon him with looks of admiration and interest; while, in his dapper silk jacket and cap of sky-blue and white, he rides slowly to the weighingplace, surrounded by lords and gentlemen Within a short space of high degree.' the vision is realized-more than realizedfor he has won the first heat" by a length.” In the next heat he comes in second, but only "half a neck" behind, and his horse is still fresh. The bell rings again for saddling; and the good steed is snuffing the air, and preparing for renewed exertions, while his rider "hails in his heart the triumph yet to come." The bell rings for starting-" They are off," cry a hundred voices at once. Blue and white soon takes "Three to one"" five to one" the lead. seven to one"-are the odds in his favour; while at the first rise in the ground he gives ample proof to the admiring "cognoscenti" that he "must win." Ă few minutes more, and a general hum of "Which is first?"-anxious voices announces that the horses are again in sight. "Oh, blue and white still."—" I knew it ; I was sure of it." Here comes the clerk of the course flogging out the intruders within the rails, and here comes the gallant bayfull two lengths before the only horse that, during the whole circuit of four miles, has been once within speaking distance of him. He keeps the lead, and wins the race without once feeling the whip. Here is a moment of triumph for his rider! he is weighed again, and receives from his master's hand the well-earned reward of his "excellent riding." The horse is carefully reclothed, and led back to his stable, where his feet are relieved from the shoes which are destined to assist in recording, to successive generations of jockies, the gallant feats, performed by

"Hearts that then beat high for praise,
But feel that pulse no more.”

Our hostel, however, must not be thus quitted. The date inscribed within the circle above the centre window is, I think, 1617. (I have a memorandum of it some where, but have mislaid it.) The house is plastered and washed with yellow; but its gables, Elizabethan chimnies, and project ing bay window, (a very proper kind of window for a "running horse,") render it a much more picturesque building than I have been able to represent it on the small scale of my drawing. In front of it, at about the distance of thirty yards, there was formerly a well of more than a hundred feet in depth; the landlord used to repair this well, receiving a contribution from all who made use of it; but other wells have of late years been dug in the neighbourhood, and the use of this has subsequently been confined to the inmates of the public-house. The church of Merrow, of which there is a glimpse in the background, is worthy of further notice than I have the means of affording in the present communication. November, 1827. PHILIPPOS.

WILLIAM CAPON,
THE SCENE PAINTER.

To the Editor.

Sir,-Presuming you may not have been acquainted with the late Mr. William Capon, whose excellence as a gothic architectural scene-painter has not been equalled by any of his compeers, I venture a few particulars respecting him.

My acquaintance with Mr. Capon commenced within only the last five or six years, but his frank intimacy and hearty good-will were the same as if our intercourse had been of longer date. A memoir of him, in the "Gentleman's Magazine," seems to me somewhat déficient in its representation of those qualities.

The memoir just noticed assigns the date of his birth at Norwich to have been October 6, 1757; and truly represents, that though wanting but ten days of arriving at the seventieth year of his age when he died, his hale appearance gave little indication of such a protracted existence. He laboured under an asthmatic affection, of which he was accustomed to complain, while his fund of anecdote, and his jocular naïveté in recitation, were highly amusing. His manner of relating many of the follies of theatrical monarchs, now defunct, was wont to set the table in a roar; and could his reminiscences be remembered, they would present a detail quite as amusing

as some that have recently diverted the town. Kemble he deified; he confessed that he could not get rid of old prejudices in favour of his old friend; and, to use his own phrase," there never was an actor like him." I have often seen him in ecstasy unlock the glazed front of the frame over his drawing-room chimney-piece, that enclosed a singularly beautiful enamel portrait of that distinguished actor, which will shortly be competed for under the auctioneer's hammer. Some of his finest drawings of the Painted Chamber at Westminster, framed with the richness of olden times, also decorated this room, which adjoined his study on the same floor. His larger drawings had green silk curtains before them; and these he would not care to draw, unless he thought his visitors' ideas corresponded with his own respecting the scenes he had thus depicted. The most valuable portion of his collection was a series of drawings of those portions of the ancient city of Westminster, which modern improvements have wholly annihilated. During the course of demolition, he often rose at daybreak, to work undisturbed in his darling object; and hence, some of the tones of morning twilight are so strictly represented, as to yield a hard and unartistlike appearance.

It was a source of disquiet to Mr. Capon that the liberality of publishers did not extend to such enlargements of Smith's Westminster, as his own knowledge would have supplied. In fact, such a work could not be accomplished without a numerous list of subscribers; and as he never issued a prospectus, the whole of his abundant antiquarian knowledge has died with him, and the pictorial details alone remain.

Mr. Capon was, greatly to his incon venience, a creditor of the late Richard Brinsley Sheridan, of whom he was accustomed to speak with evident vexation. He had been induced to enter into the compromise offered him by the committee of management of Drury-lane theatre, and give a receipt barring all future claims. This galled him exceedingly; and more than once he hinted suspicions respecting the conflagration of the theatre, which evinced that he had brooded over his losses till his judgment had become morbid.

But he is gone, and in him society has lost an amiable and respected individual. To the regret of numerous friends he expired on the 26th of September at his residence, No. 4, North-street, Westminster, I am, &c., A. W.

November 3, 1827.

[From "Brutus of Alba," a Tragedy, by He found me pensive in a desart glin, Nahum Tate, 1678.]

Ragusa, and four more Witches, about to

Ragusa, with the other Witches, having is a legend attaching to this circumstance. finished the bracelet.

[From the "Fatal Union," a Tragedy; another question; one thing is certain, the Author Unknown.]