From Lord Hardinge's statue to Kidderpore Bridge ex tends the Course, the oldest road in the Maidan, so called from being two miles in length." It is described in 1768 as being " out of town in a sort of angle made to take the air in " ; though an old song states that those who frequented it " swallowed ten mouthfuls of dust for one of fresh air." On the east side of the road runs a broad gravelled walk known as the Secretary's walk, so called--a sarcastic pamphleteer informs us—from being the place where secre taries and their sycophants discuss the news of an evening. At the south end of the Secretary's Walk, standing in the centre of the spot where four roads meet, rises the statue of Frederick Temple, Marquis of Dufferin and Ava. It is meretricious, like much of Boehm's latter work ; but the sculptor has caught the striking air and manner which distinguished the statesman who, with conspicuous tact and energy, governed our Indian Empire.
Some little distance south of the Dufferin statue is the racecourse. At a very early period the English transplanted to the East their national sport. On January 2, 1794, there appeared in a Calcutta paper the following advertisement : " The Stewards present their compliments to the subscribers to the races, and take this opportunity to inform them, that a breakfast with music will be provided in tents on the course after the races on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, the i6th, 17th and i8th of January, and a ball and supper at the theatre on Wednesday, the 18th, when they hope for the honour of their company." The races run for were for (I) the Plate, (2) the Hunters' Plate, (3) the Ladies' Plate. " After the race of each morning," to use the words of the chronicler of the day, " the company of upwards of one hundred and fifty sat down to a public breakfast," and " after breakfast the company ad journed to an adjoining tent of very capacious dimensions, handsomely fitted up and boarded, for the purpose of danc ing. Country dances commenced in two sets, and were kept up with the utmost gaiety till two in the afternoon." A century elapses, and a very different spectacle presents itself at the Calcutta races. It is two in the afternoon, and the grand stand is filled with noble dames from England, from America, and all parts of the world, who have come with their spouses to visit the Indian Empire. In the paddock is a noble duke, a few lords, one or two millionaires from America, and some serious politicians, who have visited the land to study the Opium Question, and feel ashamed of being seen at a racecourse. The air resounds with the cries of the bookmaker, and an eager crowd surges around the totalisator— for on the Viceroy's Cup day even the most cautious bank manager feels bound to have one bet. Beyond the grand stand, on the other side of the course, the wide plain is covered with beings dressed in brilliant garments— crimson, blue and orange are mingled together. Men, women and children have walked many a mile to see the tamasha, or show. They are all so happy and good-tempered, and to purchase some bright piece of cloth for the ebony dot by their side is the sum of happiness. A few sweetmeats and a little handful of grain is to them a handsome lunch. All of a sudden the hum of voices ceases and all eyes are turned to a corner of the racecourse. A cavalcade ap proaches. At a fair trot come the troopers of the Body Guard in scarlet uniforms—magnificent men on splendid horses ; a carriage and four containing the Viceroy and the Vice-Queen follows. " Wah ! wah ! " exclaims the native
crowd. Loud cheers burst forth as the carriage draws up opposite the grand stand, for no man is more respected than the Marquis of Lansdowne, and no woman more popu lar than the noble lady by his side. When the Viceregal party are settled in their box, the horses about to run for the Cup, given every year by the reigning Viceroy, are paraded before them. Some have been victors at Melbourne, some on an English course. After the preliminary canters they are marshalled before the starter, and after one or two at tempts the cry rises, " They are off ! " and they thunder by the grand stand.
Leaving the racecourse and proceeding south, we come to a bridge leading to the Zoological Gardens, which Calcutta owes to the great energy of Sir Richard Temple, a strong administrator and a man of genius. He found a swamp, with a few native huts on it, and converted it into a garden with lawns, flower-beds, and wide walks, lined by the endless variety of shrubs and plants to be found in the East. The waters of the swamp have been converted into an artificial lake, by whose banks palms are growing in the greatest luxuriance.
A short distance beyond the Zoo stands Belvedere, the official residence of the Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal, in large grounds of its own, with trees which, in shape and foliage, would do credit to an English park. At the west entrance of Belvedere was fought the famous duel between Warren Hastings and Francis. On September 27, 178o, Mrs. Fay writes : " The bad news I hinted at some time ago is already avenged, and a much more serious affair has happened since ; but for the present I must relate what has occupied a good deal of attention for some days past—no less than a duel between the Governor-General and the first in Council, Mr. Francis. There were two shots fired, and the Governor's second fire took effect. He immediately ran up to his antagonist and expressed his sorrow for what had happened, which I daresay was sincere, for he is said to be a very amiable man. Happily the ball was soon extracted, and if he escape fever, there is no doubt of his speedy recovery. What gave occasion to the quarrel is said to have been an offensive minute entered on the Council books by Mr. Francis, which he refused to rescind ; but being unacquainted with the particulars, I have as little right as inclination to make any comments on the subject. It always vexes me to hear of such things." Not far from the spot where the duel took place stands Hastings' House. It is fast crumbling into ruin, hut it should be purchased by Government, repaired and con verted into a public institution. It was the favourite resi dence of the man whose far sight first saw, and whose brave and confident patience realized, the romantic idea of his country founding an empire in the East. When he returned to England he always remembered with fond affection the house at Alipore, the paddocks in which he bred his Arab horses, and the grounds which he planted with rare trees from all parts of Asia. On the bank of the Thames he erected a house after the model of his home at Alipore, and when he retired to Daylesford he laid out the grounds after the fashion of his Indian country seat.