r
heads, and stare, I know. But here we are. Cut round this corner, into
this Lane. Here it is; this is it to the right."
We entered a sort of coach-yard, which was filled with a motley and
mixed crowd of people. I was greatly disappointed in Tattersall's.
Indeed, few things in London have answered my expectations. They have
either exceeded or fallen short of the description I had heard of them.
I was prepared, both from what I was told by Mr. Slick, and heard, from
others, to find that there were but very few gentlemen-like looking men
there; and that by far the greater number neither were, nor affected to
be, any thing but "knowing ones." I was led to believe that there
would be a plentiful use of the terms _of art_, a variety of provincial
accent, and that the conversation of the jockeys and grooms would be
liberally garnished with appropriate slang.
The gentry portion of the throng, with some few exceptions, it was said,
wore a dissipated look, and had that peculiar appearance of incipient
disease, that indicates a life of late hours, of excitement, and
bodily exhaustion. Lower down in the scale of life, I was informed,
intemperance had left its indelible marks. And that still further down,
were to be found the worthless lees of this foul and polluted stream of
sporting gentlemen, spendthrifts, gamblers, bankrupts, sots, sharpers
and jockeys.
This was by no means the case. It was just what a man might have
expected to have found a great sporting exchange and auction mart, of
horses and carriages, to have been, in a great city like London, had he
been merely told that such was the object of the place, and then left
to imagine the scene. It was, as I have before said, a mixed and motley
crowd; and must necessarily be so, where agents attend to bid for their
principals, where servants are in waiting upon their masters, and above
all, where the ingress is open to every one.
It is, however, unquestionably the resort of gentlemen. In a great and
rich country like this, there must, unavoidably, be a Tattersall's; and
the wonder is, not that it is not better, but that it is not infinitely
worse. Lake all striking pictures, it had strong lights and shades.
Those who have suffered, are apt to retaliate; and a man who has been
duped, too often thinks he has a right to make reprisals. Tattersall's,
therefore, is not without its privateers. Many persons of rank and
character patronize sporting, from a patriotic but mista
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