His Portrait.

Otago Witness, Issue 1890, 10 February 1888, Page 25

His Portrait.

His stature is sft lOin, his weight list 71b, his form as sinewy, yet graceful, as that of an ancient gladiator; his fine features are pale, but it is the pallor of an intellectual face, or of a Southern race, not of ill-health, as is evidenced by his quick, brilliant, black 'eyes;' this paleness is intensified by his wavy masses of raven hair ; while his long, drooping moustache, then worn only by cavalry men, gives a finishing touch to the romance of the countenance. In marked contrast to these sombre hues of Nature are those of his costume— a white hat, white trousers, white silk stockings, and a white overcoat, are his almost invariable summer WG3/X# The most celebrated of the Colonel's achievements on the turf was The Winning the Two Consecutive St. Lcgers of 1801 and 1805 with Sancho and Staveley. This led to the famous match for 3000 guineas a-side, over which old turfites used , to wax enthusiastic, between Sancho and I the Duke of Cleveland's Pavilion, in the following year. Sancho had been beaten at Newmarket by the Duke's horse in the previous autumn, but believing that the St. Leger winner had not shown his best form, the above match was made by his owner, and was arranged to be run over the Lewes course in the July of the year last named. Mellish had backed his horse to the tune of £20,000, yet Pavilion stood at 6to 4. The rival equines were ridden by two of the mosb famous jockeys of the day, Sam Chifney having the mount of Pavilion, and Frank Buckle that of his competitor. Though Sancho had hit his leg a few days before, up to the last mile he kept close to his opponent's quarters, then the injured limb gave way, and it was all over. The loss the magnificent Colonel treated as a mere bagatelle, and lunched at the Star at Brighton with the Prince and his royal brothers, and gambled away a few more thousands that same night with as much nonchalance as though he had been playing threepenny points at whist. At this period he never entered a bet of less than £500. But Mellish was not a mere betting owner ; he was One of Those Geniuses Who Excel in whatever they touch, even in the most opposite pursuits. He was an artist far above the best amateur ; and his friend, the Earl of Scarborough, used to relate the delight and astonishment he felt when the Colonel one day sent two disputatious Oxford divines right at a dinner table as to the exact place in Livy a certain passage was to be found. He would have taken " the whip hand " from Philip of Macedon ; in the perfection of his dress he almost out-Brummelled Brummell, and he beat Lord Frederick Bentinck, one of the finest amateur runners of the day, in a foot race over Newmarket Heath. In every field sport; he was facilcprinccps; during several seasons he led all the light-weights of Leicestershire, Rutlandshire, and Yorkshire, though, at one time he turned the scale at 14st. In a race at Newmarket in 1806 he performed a really astonishing feat. During the second heat the rider broke his stirrup leather and fell; Mellish happened to be standing close to the spot, and on the impulse of the moment caught the horse, leaped into the saddle, and got in second. He was the cleverest man of his day in handicapping and making matches, a scientific farmer, a dashing soldier, and one of undaunted courage. A story is told of him that well illustrates the hot-blooded humour of the time. He and Martin Hawke were returning in their carriages from a. Yorkshire election; they were opposed in politics, and were rival whips ; during the journey disputes took place upon both these points, words rose high, and expressions were used which, according to the code of honour of the day, could only be atoned in blood. 11 Why not decide our difference at once ?" suggested Mellish ; " our servants will be a sufficient witnesses." The proposition was readily assented to by Hawke, the horses were drawn up at the roadside, and the two combatants adjourned into a field close by, shots were exchanged, and Mellish was wounded in the arm ; as soon as he perceived this he ran up to his opponent and cried, " Hang it Hawke, you've winged me, but never mind, give me your hand." A cordial grasp put an end to the quarrel, the Colonel bound the wound up with his pocket handkerchief, the two remounted their horses, and friendly relations were thoroughly restored. Colonel Mellish was as ardent a patron of the Prize Ring as he was of the Turf ; it was he who backed John Gully on the threshold of his career, when the Bristol man was quite unknown, to fight "the Game Chicken;" this famous battle took place near Hailsham, in Sussex, in October 1805. The Colonel backed his hero for a very large sum, yet when he saw him bleeding and exhausted after a tremendous fight he insisted upon his throwing up the sponge, though the Westcountry hero was willing to fight while he had breath in his body. " The Meteor " was as well known among the canine " Fancy "as in pugilistic circles ; he owned a famous dog called Jack, who, it is said, won no fewer than 104 battles. There is a good story told of this four-legged gladiator. Lord Camelford was very desirous of possessing him, and pressed his owner so hard that at length the Colonel agreed to sell the dog by weight. Jack was gorged with tripe, and upon being put into the scale was found to weigh 421b ; but it was thought derogatory to so brave a champion to exchange him for filthy lucre, and accordingly a gun and a case of pistols, valued at 84 guineas, were used as a more worthy form of barter. Mellish once put a heavy sum upon a pig match. The manner in which he trained his porker was extremely artful. Every day he kept piggy very hungry, and at the end of the course to be run over was placed a wellfilled trough, so that, soon knowing what was in store for him, the grunter galloped his allotted space with all the activity that starvation could inspire. On the day of the race his fast was longer than usual, and his speed proportionate, and though he did not find his "bonne douche at the usual spot, he won his owner a large wager. Our Plunger's Career upon the Turf was as brief as it was sensational. Its meteorio splendour had commenced with the

St. Leger of 1804, and it ended with the great Doncaster event of 1806. Never, certainly, did more money go upon a single race than upon this. Two months before it came off it was confidently asserted* on good authority, that upwards of a million guineas had been already laid. The triumph of Fyldner scattered rain broadcast, and among the most notable victims was the gallant Colonel. Yet> had not his fortune been terribly shaken, he could have easily recovered from the blow, heavy as it was.

But it was not the Turf, after all, that ruined him; it was the gaming table. Of hj'A reckless play almost fabulous tales are told. He once staked '£40,000 upon a single throw of the dice, and lost. One night he lost £97,000 at Brookes' at a sitting. As he was dejectedly leaving the club, he was met by the Duke of Sussex, who, noticing the expression of his countenance, asked him what was the matter. " I've lost everything I I'm ruined ! " was fche reply. " Nonsense 1 " said the Duke; "come back and have another try, and your luck will turn. He clid so, and within a few hours had won £100,000 from his Royal Highness. The sons of George the Third were very poor, and were very bad paymasters as well; it was utterly impossible for the Duke to pay such an. enormous sum, so, giving as much as he could, he promised to settle an annuity of £4000 a year upon the winner for life. It need hardly be said that the latter got very little by the bargain. In the December of that fatal year 180G, the Master of Blythe was compelled to sell off his stud and leave the country. As he still held a commission in his Majesty's service, he attached himself to Sir Robert Fergusson as aide-de-camp, and Jollied tbe English Army In The

Peninsula. Sir Robert, upon arriving in Spain, was very much surprised to find his aide theie before him. " Why, I left him in a rat-pit at York three weeks ago, and he told me he should be there another 10 days," said Fergusson. While serving with the troops in that arduous campaign the ruined gambler greatly distinguished himself in action, and won the warm eulogiums of Wellington for his undaunted courage, splendid riding, and the wonderful intelligence he showed in carrying out orders. He was as reckless of his life as he was of his money. One morning he appeared, mounted on such a wretchedlooking hack that a brother officer remarked he would not get £5 for it. 11 I'll wager you a couple of ponies I'll get £45 for him." "Done 1" said the other. No sooner was the bet booked than Mellish, putting spars to the beast's flanks, galloped direct for the enemy's outposts. The sentinels fired upon him, but he pressed fearlessly on until a bullet brought down his Rosinante. Then he got back to his own lines as well as he could, though pursued by a rain of shot. He had won his wager, as the Government gave £45 for every horse killed in action ; but such a desperate means of winning a bet has few parallels. No course of life, no excitement could guard him from the gambling fiend. Even amidst all the horrors of the battlefield he could not restrain his passion for the dice and cards. Lord Wellington had a detestation for this vice, and, much as he valued the Colonel's services, he advised him to return home, as he feared his example would demoralise the camp. Such a suggestion was equivalent to a command, and had to be obeyed. When he got back to England, little was left of his once splendid patrimony — only a small farm called Hudseck Priory. But the fallen man had too grand a spirit not to endure with fortitude the misfortunes which had been of his own seeking, and he settled down as a quiet country gentleman, with at least the outward appearance of content, upon his wife's income — Lady Mellish being a daughter of the Marquis of Lansdowne— which was sufficient at least for comfort. He now returned to those cultured tastes which had almost rusted during his sporting career. Books, music, painting, once more became his delight ; farming, in which he greatly excelled, his business ; and field sports his recreation. With his fine physique a life so regular promised a long span of years ; but alas I the excesses of his youth had not only destroyed his fortune, but his constitution as well. After a while his health began to fail ; the doctors gave little hope from the first, and early in the year 1817, at the age of 37, the end came to a career which might well be said To point a moral or adorn a tale.