And so it turned out.
From the first things went badly.

John Westonhaugh's fresh pony was very wild, and he had to take him a breather half over the ground before he could take his place for the charge.

When at last the first stroke was made, the ball went low along the ground, spinning and twisting to right and left.

Both Kildare and Isaacs missed it and wheeled across to return, when a prolonged scrimmage ensued less than thirty yards from their goal.

Every one played his best, and we wheeled and spun round in a way that reminded one of a cavalry skirmish.