Part 24

My RELATION connected with a certain WELL-KNOWN STABLE says, "Frank, my boy, get your money on at once; this is another 20 to 1 chance." A GOLD MINE is before us--miss this and you will miss a pile of GOLD and silver.

OWNER and TRAINER HAVE planked their money down; both will travel with the GRAND ANIMAL (the name of which I will forward for 5s.) to-morrow by special train.

Send a postal order and secure the name of the smartest three-year-old that ever came under the starters' orders or romped past the judge's box lengths ahead of all the favourites, winning clients and myself many HUNDREDS OF POUNDS.

Yet another offers infallible information if clients will merely put a small portion of their stake on for him. As some of the horses he gives must win he probably does fairly well. Whilst most of such tipsters are but sorry guides, some are undoubtedly honest men and try to do their best for their clients.

Such a one was Old Jack Dickinson, a thoroughly honest sporting tipster, who will be remembered by all race-goers of some years ago. This well-known character, who was a fine sprint runner in his day, bore a quite unblemished reputation, though a backer of horses and a professional vendor of tips. Old Jack was a regular church-goer in his own parish, where his death caused genuine sorrow. Though in his capacity as a Turf tipster he was at times compelled to issue his circulars on Sunday, this he did not like, and by way of salving his conscience in the matter he is said to have made a practice of devoting all the money he received from the Sunday information to church purposes, it being put into the collection box.

On the Turf, exclusive of betting men, jockeys, and trainers, there are three classes--men of large fortune, with well and old-established studs, fixtures as it were; sporting men of moderate fortune, who confine themselves to four or five horses at a time, and run merely in their own part of the world; and lastly, men of small or no fortune, who run for profit more than amusement. It is the conduct of many of this last class which has at times been injurious to the Turf.

The sporting owner, who has to pay large trainers' bills and meet the other inevitable charges incident to the sport of which he aspires to be a pillar, cannot reasonably hope to make a profit on his racing; even the sharp betting man is in many cases out of pocket at the end of a year. Expenses, such as travelling, hotel bills, and the like, amount to a considerable sum, and for this reason every supporter of the Turf is greatly handicapped before he even makes a bet.

Layers as well as backers have large disbursements which they cannot avoid--as a matter of fact the vast majority of bookmakers who have died rich men have made their fortunes through commercial enterprises, though, of course, the moderate capital originally invested was made in the Ring. To acquire any considerable sum in this manner is by no means an easy thing. Much is heard about successful bookmakers; little of those who fail and disappear.

If betting can ever be made profitable, it must be carried on in a most systematic and restrained manner. A few points in the odds make the difference often of some thousands; and it will require a man's whole time and attention to take advantage of any turn in the market.

A young man who goes racing with the idea of making money is of necessity quickly disillusioned in the most unpleasant of ways. If he knows no racing men he is, of course, hopelessly at sea; but should he have means of obtaining really good information, his fate is generally even more deplorable, for some untoward incident almost invariably happens when a big _coup_ is on and the good thing goes down.

Not a few, in despair at continual losses, make up their minds to wait for "absolute certainties," and lay heavy odds on some horse which it would seem cannot possibly be beaten, a method which usually proves very expensive in the end.

Of all meetings Ascot seems most fatal to gamblers of this description. A particularly disastrous meeting was that of 1879. In the Vase, Silvio, 9 to 4 on, fell before Isonomy; Peter, 5 to 2 on for the Fern Hill Stakes, was beaten by Douranee; Victor Chief, 7 to 4 on, was fourth to Philippine for the Seventeenth New Biennial; Valentino second for the Maiden Plate at 5 to 4 on; Silvio, 6 to 4 on, was beaten in the Hardwicke; and Aventurier, 2 to 1, was defeated by Royal for the Plate of one hundred sovereigns, which concluded this woeful meeting.

Another "Black Ascot" was that of 1882. 8 to 1 was laid on Geheimniss, which could only obtain second place in the Fernhill Stakes; 9 to 2 on St. Marguerite, third in the Coronation Stakes; 11 to 8 on Rookery, second in the New Stakes; and 9 to 4 on Foxhall, second in the Alexandra Plate. An appalling series of disasters for the unfortunate backer!

Layers of odds on again suffered at Ascot in 1894, when 5 to 1 was laid on Delphos for the All Aged Stakes, and 5 to 1 on La Flèche for the Hardwicke on the Friday. The odds in each case were upset, both being second.

At Ascot this year backers as usual did not fare particularly well, for notable upsets occurred in the Coventry Stakes, won by the Admiration colt at 20 to 1, and in the All Aged Stakes, in which 100 to 15 was laid on Hallaton which succumbed to his only rival Hillside.

When everything is said and done, there can be no doubt that the individual who starts out, either as bookmaker or backer, with the idea that he is going to make a fortune must, as an old racing character (Billy Pierse, whose father fought at Culloden) used to say, "want it here."

This expression was very popular with "T' au'd un" or the "Governor," as Billy was commonly designated on the Yorkshire courses. Once at Doncaster, when Sir John Byng had to decide a dispute as to jostling to the prejudice of a horse trained by "T' au'd un," the latter insisted that Sir John could not distinguish between a race and a charge of cavalry, and that he could by no earthly explanation be made to comprehend in what a "jostle" in racing consisted. So cantankerous was Billy on the subject that he accosted an old gentleman, whose erudition he held in high esteem, in the following manner: "Tell me, sir, wasn't this Sir J. Byng's father or grandfather hanged?" "No, Mr. Pierse," was the reply, "not hanged; probably you allude to the Admiral, who was shot." "I thowt," rejoined Billy, "it was sommat o' t' sowort, an' it's much of a muchness between hanging and shooting; but I'll uphoud ye that this Sir John Byng will never do for the Turf--he may be well enough for a General, but he'll never do for the Turf! He wants it here, sir," added Billy, putting his finger in a most expressive manner on his forehead, "he wants it here!"

The maxims of "T' au'd un" were held in great respect, and the Duke of Cleveland, for whom he won several races on Haphazard, used frequently to ask the old man (who had had his last mount in the St. Leger of 1819) to Raby. Concerning these visits Billy used to say, "I never forgot that I was Billy Pierse--I was useful or I wouldn't have been theer." This was to some extent true, for the Duke had a high opinion of his judgment in Turf matters. A favourite saying of Old Billy, and one which afforded him much comfort, was, "I've done as many as have done me." Nevertheless he was straight enough, according to the Turf ethics of his day.

Within the last twenty-five years there have been many changes in connection with Turf speculation. Ante-post betting, for instance, is now practically obsolete, whilst starting price betting, unknown in old days, has come into vogue; and, finally, the huge wagers formerly quite common have become things of the past, a state of affairs which would be little to the taste of men of the type of the fifth Lord Glasgow did they still exist. This nobleman's love of wagering enormous sums excited attention even in an age when high gambling was not generally viewed with anything like the severity which prevails to-day, when Stock Exchange speculation is the favourite mode of attaining complete and speedy impecuniosity.

The evening before the Derby of 1843 Lord Glasgow, then Lord Kelburne, was at Crockford's, when Lord George Bentinck inquired if any one would lay him three to one against his horse, Gaper. Lord Kelburne said he should be delighted.

"Remember," said Lord George, "I'm not after a small bet."

"Well," rejoined Lord Kelburne, "I suppose £90,000 to £30,000 will suit you."

This staggered the owner of Gaper, who was obliged to admit that he had never dreamt of taking such a large bet.

Lord Kelburne was rather annoyed. "I thought you wanted to do it 'to money,'" said he sharply; "however, I see I was wrong."

As early as 1823 this sporting peer had created a sensation at the Star Inn at Doncaster, by offering to lay 25 to 1 in hundreds against Brutandorf for the St. Leger, afterwards repeating the offer in thousands.

On the St. Leger of 1824 Jerry won him some £17,000, but three years later he lost £27,000, Mr. Gully's much-fancied Derby winner, Mameluke, being beaten by Matilda. The victory of this filly, which was very popular with the Yorkshire crowd, is commemorated at Stapleton Park, near Pontefract--where her owner, the Hon. E. Petre, lived--by a chiming clock placed over the stables, known as the "Matilda clock," which is appropriately surmounted by a "race-horse weathercock."

Lord George Bentinck is said to have won no less than £100,000 by betting in one year (1845), but his racing expenses amounted to an enormous sum. He won £12,000 by the victory of Cotherstone in the Derby, and it is said would have profited to the extent of some £135,000 had Gaper proved the winner of that classic race. His successes as an owner, though considerable, hardly compensated him for the immense amount of time, thought, and money which he expended upon racing matters. Crucifix, it is true, won the Two Thousand, the One Thousand, and the Oaks in 1840, but Lord George never won the Derby, though if he had not parted with his stud in 1846 he would in all probability have done so, for Mr. Mostyn in his purchase acquired Surplice, who became the winner in 1848. The victory much agitated his former owner when he heard of it.

Sir Joseph Hawley was a very heavy better in his time, though at the end of his Turf career he began a crusade against the evils of plunging--nevertheless, not very long before, he had taken £40,000 to £600 about each of the fillies he had entered for the Derby.

The enormous bets made by the ill-timed Marquis of Hastings are notorious. Now and then he hit the Ring very hard--when Lecturer won the Cesarewitch, for instance, he was a gainer of no less than £75,000--and his Turf winnings in stakes were also considerable for two or three years. In 1864 they amounted to £10,000, in 1866 to £12,000, and in 1867 to over £30,000. Hermit's Derby, however, in the same year is said to have cost him £140,000; and even had Marksman, who was second, won, he would have lost £120,000.

This spendthrift nobleman was anything but shrewd as a plunger. He had made his book so badly that, though he stood to lose heavily, he would only have profited to the extent of a few thousands had Vauban, which was his best horse, been first past the post. In 1868 the Marquis, a broken-down, ruined man, passed to his grave at the early age of twenty-six.

There was very heavy betting in the old days. Davies, the celebrated bookmaker, for instance, more than once made a Derby book amounting to £100,000. As a matter of fact he is said to have generally lost money over the Derby and Oaks, and won it over the St. Leger. When Daniel O'Rourke won the Derby he lost about £50,000 (some say almost double this sum), having laid a great deal of money at 100 to 1. Catherine Hayes also hit him hard, and over West Australian he lost £48,000, of which £30,000 went to the owner, Mr. Bowes. In his latter years Davies rather avoided ante-post betting, especially on the Derby. The victory of Teddington in 1851 took something not far short of £90,000 out of his pockets, one cheque alone sent out by him to Mr. Greville being for £15,000. The Derby in question was very costly to the Ring in general, which lost something like £150,000. The most considerable sum, however, ever won by the great racing public of small means was when Voltigeur won the St. Leger in 1850. The excitement during the deciding heat with Russborough was probably the greatest ever seen on any race-course; and on the evening of the following day, when he won the Doncaster Cup, beating the Flying Dutchman, many of the Yorkshiremen caroused all night. As one of them said, "Who'd go to bed when Voltigeur's won the St. Leger and the Cup?"

Whilst racing possesses some claim to be considered a serious sport owing to the undoubted improvement which it has effected in the breed of horses, its most ardent supporters have been men of pleasure. The founder of the English Turf, indeed, was the "Merry Monarch," though there had been horse-racing for bells long before his time.

Charles the Second did everything he could to improve horsemanship in England. He it was who induced a celebrated French riding master, Foubert by name, to come over and settle in England. This Frenchman set up a riding academy near what is now Regent Street. His name is still perpetuated by "Foubert's Passage."

Charles, who knew a good deal about most things, possessed, it is said, much knowledge of horses, and was himself an experienced and able rider. He became a great supporter of the Turf, gave many prizes to be run for, and delighted in witnessing races. When he resided at Windsor the horses ran on Datchet-mead; but the most distinguished spot for these spectacles was Newmarket, a place which was first chosen on account of the firmness of the ground.

Remains of the house in which Charles lived at what became the head-quarters of the Turf still exist. It was originally purchased by the "Merry Monarch" from an Irish Peer, Lord Thomond.

Here it was that Nell Gwynne is supposed to have held her infant out of the window as Charles passed down the Palace Gardens to his stables, and apostrophised him to the effect that if the child was not made a Duke upon the spot she would drop it.

When the King went to see this palace, as it was called, which he had caused to be built at Newmarket, he thought the rooms too low; but the architect, Sir Christopher Wren, who was of small stature, did not agree. Walking through the rooms he looked up at the King and said, "Please your Majesty, I think they are high enough." The King squatted down to Sir Christopher's height, and creeping about in that posture, cried, "Aye, Sir Christopher, I think they are high enough."

During his visits to the little town Charles usually spent the morning in coursing or playing tennis, repairing to the Heath about three to witness racing, it being the custom for the King and his retinue of courtiers and ladies to ride alongside or after the contending steeds, which on their arrival at the winning post were saluted with the blare of trumpets and the beating of drums. Most of the races in Charles' day would appear to have consisted of matches to decide wagers previously laid.

The Whip which is annually run for at Newmarket has sometimes been said to be the identical one which Charles II. (not George II.) was in the habit of riding with, and which he presented to some nobleman, whose arms it bears, as being the owner of the best horse in England.

The whip itself is of very antique appearance, and by no means "a splendid trophy." The handle, which is very heavy, is of silver, with a ring at the end of it for a wristband, which is made of the mane of Eclipse.

During this reign the Turf became a popular and aristocratic institution. The Merry Monarch even condescended to ride himself, and rode a match at Newmarket in 1671, on which occasion his horse Woodcock was beaten.

Charles kept and entered horses in his own name, and by his attention and generosity added importance and lustre to the institution over which he presided. Bells, the ancient reward of swiftness, were now no longer given; a silver bowl or cup of the value of one hundred guineas succeeded the tinkling prize. On this royal gift the exploits of the successful horse, together with his pedigree, were usually engraven to publish and perpetuate his fame.

James the Second is reputed to have been a good horseman, but his reign was too short and troublesome to permit him to indulge his inclinations as regards horses. He was a lover of hunting, and ever preferred English mounts, several of which he had always in his stables after he became an exile in France.

When William the Third ascended the throne, he not only added to the plates given at different places in the kingdom, but made every attempt at improving horsemanship. Though he was a monarch of considerable austerity, this king once matched a horse of his own for a stake of two thousand guineas.

Queen Anne continued the bounty of her predecessors, with the addition of several plates. Her Consort, George, Prince of Denmark, is said to have taken infinite delight in horse-racing, and to have obtained from the Queen the grant of several plates allotted to different places.

Towards the beginning of the eighteenth century a statute of Queen Anne was enacted with a view to the restriction of betting. Very great sums of money changed hands owing to a match run at Newmarket between the gentlemen of the South and those of the North. It is almost superfluous to add that the proverbial shrewdness of the Northerner was fully demonstrated on this occasion.

Queen Anne herself was, however, a supporter of the Turf, running horses in her own name in matches at Newmarket and York.

Towards the close of the reign of George the First he discontinued the plates, and in lieu of each gave the sum of one hundred guineas.

In the middle of the eighteenth century the Turf had fallen into some disrepute, but the Duke of Cumberland did much to revive the glories which had somewhat languished since the days of Charles II. He it was who first instituted the race meeting at Ascot.

The Duke was a born gambler, and used when out hunting to play at hazard with Lord Sandwich, throwing a main on every green hill and under every green tree whenever the hounds checked.

Though cheery enough in the hunting field, he was anything but tender-hearted when pursuing his avocation as a soldier; indeed his severity at times became cruelty, which gained for him the nickname of "the Butcher."

The day after the decisive battle of Culloden, in the year 1745, the General, or as he was popularly styled, Duke William, was riding over the scene of battle in company with his officers, among whom was Colonel Wolfe, afterwards the hero of Quebec, then a young man. Among the dead and dying stretched on the stricken field, one was so far recovered as to be able to sit upright. Looking at the poor wretch, the Duke said to the young Colonel by his side; "Wolfe, shoot me that rebel." Wolfe glared back at his prince and commander, and, with a flushed countenance which showed his indignation, replied: "Your Royal Highness, I am a soldier, not an executioner." The Duke turned his back upon Wolfe and did not utter another word.

If, however, the Duke, as the saying went, was a "very devil in his boots," he was all right out of them and good-natured enough when racing. Being at a Newmarket meeting just before the horses started, he missed his pocket-book, containing some bank-notes. When the knowing ones came about him and offered several bets, he said he had lost his money already and could not afford to venture any more that day. The horse which the Duke had intended to back was beaten, so he consoled himself, as he said, with the thought that the loss of his pocket-book only anticipated the evil, as if he had betted, he would have paid away as much to the worthies of the Turf. The race, however, was no sooner finished than a veteran half-pay officer presented His Royal Highness with his pocket-book, saying he had found it near the stand, but had not an opportunity of approaching him before. To this the Duke most generously replied; "I am glad it has fallen into such good hands--keep it. Had it not been for this accident, it would have been by this time among the blacklegs and thieves of Newmarket."

In 1764 the Duke of Cumberland matched his famous horse, King Herod, against the Duke of Grafton's Antinous for £1000 over the Beacon Course at Newmarket. This contest excited intense interest, and more than £100,000 is said to have changed hands over the victory of Herod, who won by what was then called half a neck. In the annals of the Turf, however, Duke William is best remembered on account of the fact that he bred the greatest horse of all time, "Eclipse."