JOHNA.SEAVERNS

WILLIAM DAY'S REMINISCENCES
OF THE TURF.

Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine
Cummmgs Schooi ot Veterinary Medicine at

Tufts

200 Westboro Road

North Grafton, MA 01 536

WILLIAM DAY'S REMINISCENCES

OP THE TURF.

ANECDOTES AND RECOLLECTIONS

OF ITS

principal Celebrities,

SECOND EDITION.

LONDON :

RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON

publishers in ©rfcjnsrg to "$n JRajestj the Queen.

1886.

[All Rights He-served.]

ERRATA.

Page 70. For ' Sylcanus Urban,' read ' Sylvanus.'
Pages v, 35, 38, 39, 40. For ' Veridas,' read ' Viridis.

PREFACE.

The very favourable reception accorded to ' The
Racehorse in Training ' induces me to appear before
the public again as the writer of my Reminiscences.
It is a work that aims to deal in a plain fashion with
matters of importance to all those who have an
interest in the turf, and relies solely for its success on
its truthful simplicity and its impartial mode of
dealing with the diverse subjects which come under
consideration. It is partly biographical, partly
anecdotal; and in the portions which treat of trials
and the stable, has its technical or professional side..

The biographical sketches have, I hope, in most cases
the charm of novelty to recommend them, either in
the subject itself or in their treatment. We must
remember, in forming a judgment of individual
character, that the men whose careers I venture to

iv PREFACE.

outline existed in an age of sensuality and of riotous
mirth, and that most of them lived uncontaminated
by the pernicious examples around them. The
anecdotes, when they are not on the face of them
fabulous, are true, or approximately true. Some of
them, indeed, may not be new, but in these cases
their applicability to the subject under discussion
will, I believe, readily excuse their introduction.
The matters of technical detail occasionally dealt
with have, I trust, the claim on the reader's attention
that is due to examples which in similar cases may be
safely followed. The method employed is that which,
in the author's opinion, is best calculated to relieve
the work from the weariness following monotony ;
whilst if its general merits should only prove
adequate to the truth it contains, he can have little
doubt of its being received with wide approbation.

W. D.

February, 1886.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Ml!. HENRY PADWICK.

PAGE

Wide interest in prominent figures on the turf — Erroneous con-
ceptions of Mr. Padwick — His origin — Business as a money-
lender— His home and friends — Introduction to racing —
Trains at Findon with my father — Purchase of Virago, and
her successes — Disappointed with Yellow Jack and St. Hubert
— A successful salesman — Three horses for £22,000 — No judge
of racing — Instances — Mistake in parting with Joe 1 filler —
Purchases Air edition from me ; thought ' too good ' — A story
to the point — My purchase of Blue Rock — Flying Duchess —
Mr. Greville repudiates a purchase — A gentleman's word, and
a lesson learned — Mr. Padwick as a borrower — Sharp practice,
and what it might have cost me - 1-22

CHAPTER II.

MR. henry padwick {continued).
The business of money-lending — Mr. Padwick's clients — His
share in the affair of The Earl and Lady Elizabeth • Admiral
Rous's interference — Conduct towards Mr. Whieldon ; repaid
in his own coin — Entrapped by a fair borrower — A necessitous
Duchess ; a loan on brickbats — Equal to the emergency — A
frail client — His character, method of dealing, all on one side
— How ancestral estates are lost — Attempt to sell a Derby
favourite on Sunday ; disastrous result ; the favourite miss-
ing— Connection with Cully and Hill — Insatiable for wealth
—His end .-..-. 23-34

CHAPTER III.

JOHN BAYNTON STARKEV, ESQ.

The turf injured by foolish supporters — Unaccountable disappear-
ance of Mr. Starkey's fortune — Purchase of Veridas — Disas-
trous defeat ; ' save us from our friends ' — Ownership of
Fisherman and Leamington — Aggregate winnings — No large

vi CONTENTS.

loser by racing or betting — Curious settlement of trainers'
accounts — Propensity to bet — First transaction with Mr.
Padwick — How a debt of £22,000 was created — Another deal
and its result — Mr. Padwick as owner of Spye Park — Bound
to ruin himself — Other examples and their lesson— Idiosyn-
crasies ; curious ' get-up ;' mode of travelling ; delight in
' attending a toilet ' — Personal experience of giving my
name ; a ' tidy ' practitioner — His end, and sale of Spye
Park ------- 35-52

CHAPTER IV.

M K. J O II N G U L L Y.

Connection with ' The Danebury Confederacy ' — Origin — Thrashes
a bully — Introduction to the Ring — Fights Pierce and Greg-
son — Owen Swift's trial — Personal appearance — Joint owner-
ship of A ndover, Mendicant, and Pyrrhus the First — ' Old John
Day's bitter pill '■ — The true story ; my father's real interest
in these — Mr. R. Tattersall and the purchase of Fortress for
Lord Caledon — The model auctioneer — Gully's assault on
Mr. Ridsdale— A ' view-holloa ' by the Bar — Duel with ' The
Squire ' — Interference between my father and brother ; dis-
ruption of the Danebury stud — Harry Hill turned out of
Whitewall — Danebury to-day — Gully and Hill's connection in
racing — Silent wisdom — The bull and the red-coat — Police-
men treated as nine-pins — His end - 53-6G

CHAPTER V.

'the danebury confederacy.'

Commissioners and their instructors — How Gully and Hill made

fortunes — Laying against ' dead uns ' — Gulling the public —

Universal temptation — A view of turf parasites in 1832 ;

Richardson, Bland, and others.

Harry Hill ; origin — 'A thimble and a pea' — Lord George's
contempt — Exposed by Mr. Rayuer — Disadvantages of lying
— Hill's dress and diversions ; loses £20,000 — Frank Butler
' carpeted ' — Caught on the Stock Exchange— ' An economic
principle ' — Intestacy and disappearance of his money.

Mr. Pedley as a bookmaker and songster — Wins the Derby
with Cossack— Subsequent poverty — An incident at Chester
races — Joshua Arnold — Saucebox sold below his value — Mr.
Turner, another of the clique — The moral, and a plea for it

67-79

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

PAGE

My knowledge of his lordship — Purchase of Bay Middleton —
Lameness cured hy my brother — Failure at the stud — A
Yorkshire view of him— His produce — Lease of Venison, and
attempt to get him back — Not a lucky breeder— Early races
and successes — Performances of Crucifix — Change of luck on
leaving Danebury — Amount of his winnings — Race between
Grey Momus and Bamboo — The running confirmed — Lord
Suffield's disappointment — A rival jockey~bids me win — Bay
Middleton1 s Derby — Lavish entry of yearlings — Crucifix trial
— Her breakdown — The secret kept — Tripoli in the Feather
Plate ; action of the Jockey Club — Horses run unprepared,
proved by in-and-out running — Gaper and Miss Elis — Castra-
tion of Naworth — A comparison - 80-95

CHAPTER VII.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK (continued).

The Derby of 1839 — Objection to Mr. Ridsdale's Bloomshury —
Lord George's defiance of the Jockey Club ; brought into
court ; result — Lord George's motive (?) — Exposure of the
Running Rein swindle ; his interest therein — Scourges minor
faults of the turf — Levanters — Conduct towards Glen the
baker — His wagering on Bay Middleton for the Derby
and on Elis for the St. Leger contrasted — False trial
of Cherokee— Behaviour to Mr. Wreford — Difference with
Mr. Greville — How Preserve simulated influenza — A coughing-
bridle— Wins £2,000 from Wm. Scott on Red Deer— Solici-
tude for morality of trainers not always carried out- — A race
in a fog and a curious decision — Am asked to swear to what
I do not know — Accuses ' The Squire ' of swindling — Episode
of the duel ; reflections thereon — Reputed munificence, but
faint proofs thereof — Takes back a gift - 96-113

CHAPTER VIII.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK {continued).

Personal appearance — Bold riding to hounds — Curious choice of
associates — Care for his paddocks — Raises Goodwood to a first-
class meeting — Mode of travelling — Visits to Danebury —
Performances in the saddle, and as a starter — Attitude to his
parents — Army career — His superior officer cashiered —

viii CONTENTS.

General disapproval of his conduct — Attacks Sir R. Peel —
Mr. Disraeli and ' the stable mind ' — Hasty sale of his stud —
Its real value, extent, and nomenclature — Mistaken judgment
of Gaper and Cottier stone — Separation from Danebury —
Erroneous reports of the real cause — Ill-feeling to my brother
— Crucifix and her clothing — Delay in settling his accounts —
Triumphs of the old stable, and effect upon him of continued
disappointment — Result of Mathematician? & defeat of Crazier ;
backs the wrong horse — Melancholy end - - 114-130

CHAPTER IX.

MEN OF PAST DAYS.

The Bentinck family — The old Duke — Proud but liked — Races
with Mr. Greville — Tiresias's Derby — The Duke offended —
Incident at Newmarket — A needful correction — Newmarket
then and now — Lord Henry as a sportsman — An adventure
on the moors — The late Duke as Lord Titchfield — Curious
di'ess in summer — Monastic seclusion of Welbeck — Lord
Ceorge and the fair sex.

Mr. Fulwar Craven ; oddity in dress — Deception ; in the
Oaks and Derby — The jockey interviewed ; a neat rejoinder —
Addicted to low company — Mr. Ramsay — Curious story told
of the two — Anecdote of his trainer, Mr. Dilly : ' the dead
alive ' — Sagacious dogs : a terror to tramps ; a home-comer ;
the signal-dog at Porchester Station — Drawing a bear.

Lord Glasgow's oddities — General Peel before the Two
Thousand — His indifferent stud — Delight in reckless matches
— Handicaps himself — Offers £1)0,000 against Gaper — Temper
and ill health — Bequeaths his stud.

Lord Exeter's personal peculiarities — His racing — Insist-
ance on trying and running his horses — Blue Rock proves not
unbroken — Sale of his Newmarket property — Sir Gilbert
Heathcote ; Amato's Derby; a racehorse as 'a heriot ' —
Baron J. de Teissier — Lord Jersey's successes — His view of
breeding ------- 131-157

CHAPTER X.

MR. PARKER.

Varied experiences — Commences racing — Purchase of One Act —
Her trial and our expectations — How defeated — Forestalled
and struck out — Running at Chester ; remarkable dream — Joe

CONTENTS. ix

PAGE

Miller in the Metropolitan — Winnings on the Chester Cup —
Mistake as to his condition — Brigantine another example — A
perilous journey — How Joe Miller was ruined — Noi.ii/, ill-luck
in the Chester Cup — Cedric — Sutherland's luck and subsequent
failure — Tame Deer in the Northampton Cup — Confidence of
his new owner, but well beaten — Bird on the Wing — Her
chance in the Oaks — Sam Rogers and Frank Butler — A reve-
lation in fashionable jockeys ... - 158-177

CHAPTER XI.
MR. PARKER (continued).
Joins his uncle in London — ' The pace that kills ' — Evenings at
Owen Swift's — Buying a watch— Skill with the gloves —
London ' life ' as it was — A good stock— Excellent judgment
of racing — An objection sustained — Jockeys and amateurs —
Nearly ' done ' by a welsher — An instance of enforced restitu-
tion—His belief in condition — Analogy from dog-training —
Fights between ' Pincher ' and ' Bullet ' — Admiral Rous on
Cedrics condition — Mr. Parker's belief in Farce, and our
parting — His life in retirement - 178-192

CHAPTER XII.

MR. FARRANCE.

Slothfulness not the happy mean— Origin and marriage — Far-
rance's Hotel — Patronage of Sir Robert Peel — Custom of an
afternoon — Attention to personal appearance — His early
racing ; my own start — Horses well sold — Maley at Shrews-
bury Steeplechase ; speed and heavy ground — Partnership
with Mr. Parker ; successes not his own — Suspicious conduct
and separation — Mysterious loss of fortune — A wretched end
— Anecdotes — ' The Tally-Ho ' without a coachman — How a
feather-bed may be lost — Mr. Wagstaff' s clock — Parting with
a suit of clothes — Alderman Cubitt's watch - - 193-205

CHAPTER XIII.

MEN OK MY TIME, OR DANEBURY PATRICIANS.
Example needed on the turf — Danebury patricians— Mr. Harry
Biggs ; love of sport — His horses— Little Red Rover— A bit
of advice— Esteem for his trainer -A night in a chalk-pit.

Lord Palmerston ; his horses — Iliona's name : she wins the
Cesarewitch — A welcome cheque — Buckthorn's performances ;

CONTENTS.

doubtful riding in the Ascot Stakes — Purchase of Iliona —
His lordship's habits— Gallops to Danebury — Story of my
father's visit to the House of Commons — The butcher and his
bill — Other peculiarities.

Sir Lewin Glyn — Gross libel on him and my father — Mr.
Farquharson — His original views of racing — 'As a sheep-
breeder ; adventure at a fair .... 206-220

CHAPTER XIV.

MEN OF MY TIME, OR DANEBURY PATRICIANS {continued).

Mr. Trelawney — Coldrenich favourite for the Derby — Officious
friends — ' John Davis looked up ' — The money hedged.

Mr. Wreford — Success as a breeder ; system pursued ; ex-
cellence of yearlings ; Wapiti — His horses ; mode of engage-
ment ; races won ; family disappointments — ' A dinner for
three ; disappearance of the goose ' — A hot breakfast and a
hot pudding — Shooting in Devonshire and Wiltshire com-
pared— The sheep and the Downs — A sad old age.

Sir E. B. Baker ; complacence when beaten ; removal to
Woodyates.

Sir J. B. Mills ; easily satisfied ; story of another philo-
sopher and a lazy trainer — Gout v. fishing — Visits to Dane-
bury ; love of cocking ----- 221-235

CHAPTER XV.

MEN OF MY TIME, OR DANEBURY PATRICIANS {continued).

Lord Howth — Acuteness in racing — His help in purchase of
Sultan — A thorough sportsman — Hawking — Shooting at
Boveridge — A novel 'get up' — A spoiled servant — Lord Sligo ;
Lord Glenlyon ; Mr. Pryse-Pryse.

Mr. Ralph Etwall — Appearance — Does much on limited
means — His stud and winnings — Success in coursing —
Remarkable purchase of greyhounds — My first red coat —
Objection to vails to servants — Management of Wild Dayrell
— Confidence of the stable — Expatriation — A visit to Chol-
derton.

Lord Dorchester— Produce of Little Red Rover mare —
Buccaneer — Cruiser— A body of wise men — My father at
Danebury — Love of his profession — A brief spin with the
hounds ------- 236-249

CONTENTS. xi

CHAPTER XVI.

MR. SWINDELL.

TAGE

Origin — Takes to the turf ; shrewdness and reticence — His first
'coup' with Mr. Merry's Chanticleer — Horses — Weatherbound
in the Cambridgeshire ; extraordinary trial ; his confidence
and the Admiral's disbelief — Sir Joseph Hawley's opinion of
Beacon; beat by Bevis — The match with the baronet ; the
latter pays forfeit ; diamond cut diamond — Brocket runs for
Ruby ; how Ruby was kept Derby favourite — Exposure of a
dishonest trainer.

Character— Employment of touts ; generosity ; business
capacity — The Burton Brewery — How we parted — Attitude
to his trainer — Rectitude — Non-interference — Instances of
coolness — Love of a good story — Examples — Adaptability —
Prudence — Last days - 250-277

CHAPTER XVII.

TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

Training at haphazard — The brothers Stebbing — Own Flatcatcher
and other good horses — Accidental success and ultimate
failure — Barber and Saxon — First association — Horses owned
conjointly and separately, and their doings — Mistakes in
selling — Oaks victory and subsequent decline — Saxon and the
thief.

Mr. Thomas Parr — First start — His patrons — A large stable
and few runners — Love of plating — A mystery ; how was it
done ? — Training from a hayloft— Sale of Fernhill and Isoline
— Embarrassments — A lucky release — Bovine appearance of
Rataplan — Disappointment in the St. Leger — Misuse of good
horses; Saucebox, Fisherman, and others— Mortimer'1 s defeat
at Chester — Curious excuse — How he got Weather gage ; un-
expected performances and curious treatment— Errors in
training — A word for George Hall - - 278-300

CHAPTER XVIII.

'lord of the isles.'

Doncaster Town Moor — A search for a yearling — Lord of the Isles
bought for Mr. Merry — Trial — Wins Lavant Stakes at
Oood wood ; Paradigm a good second — The ' owner's friend '

xii CONTENTS.

— Comments on my riding — My brother put up for the
second race — An invisible difference — Mr. Merry at Wood-
yates — Remarkable scene — Detailed trial for the Two Thou-
sand— The race — Rival owners and trainers ; heavy wagering
— In the saddling- ring —Mine wins — The owners after the
race — The Derby — Kingstoicn mysteriously backed — Why
did Lord of the Isles lose ? — A jockey's opinion — The real
facts 301-312

CHAPTER XIX.

A TRIAL FOR MR. MERRY.

I try Hobble Noble for the Cambridgeshire— Difference of opinion
as to weights — Results— Why he beat Joe Miller — Treatment
before the race — How it was lost — Another trial ; Weather-
gage for the Cesarewitch — A difference of opinion as to
distance — Something about Mr. Merry and his satellites —
His success at cocking — An old cockpit— Regret on his
leaving the turf — Buchanan and ' Tass ' Parker— Character-
istics and associations — Buchanan's betting— Loses himself in
a lawsuit against his employer — Different ending of the two
men — A doubtful gift — ' Betting on a certainty ;' but the
biter bit 313-323

CHAPTER XX.

THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

Eccentricity of manner — Chorister's St. Leger ; a reminiscence of
' the old Duke ' — The late Duke— Better known as Lord
William Powlett — Shrewdness in a bargain — Bad luck in
racing — Some of my ' deals ' with him — I sell him Cedric — A
long bargain, but a huge relief — Points left open, and their
settlement — Sale to him of Promised Land, and purchase of
Dulcibella — An intricate negotiation ; satisfactorily brought
off — Insurance money — Sam Rogers on the transaction —
Absurd charge of collusion — How Sam made a mistake — I
claim and keep Rouadus — His chancrs spoiled — A young
man's <n-atitude ------ 326-312

CONTENTS. xiii

CHAPTER XXI.

TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS — A COMPARISON OF THE OLD
AND THE NEW.

PAGE

Change inevitable — The new school — Advantage taken of im-
proved educational facilities — Improved social position —
Imitation in amaranthine pleasures of their betters — Travelled
experiences — ' The sea-horse ' — Increased duties — Rapid ad-
vance from stable-boy to trainer — ' Success is genius ' —
Changed habits — Greater care of health — Relaxation —
Absurdity of early rising — Advantage of the jockey's control
of horses — Legitimate gains from stable secrets — Trainers
properly set right in trials — Marvellous horsemanship — Carp-
ing owners — Improved habits — The whole secret of training
revealed by a light-weight jockey.

The modern stable — Added cares of the trainer — His needed
absence safeguarded — The vet. and the head-lad in sickness
— Condition balls and others — Flowers supersede the dung-
pit — Improvement in food and drink — Suggested additions —
Clemency of jockeys towards. owners— Apology for treating
the subject ______ 343-381

CHAPTER XXII.

ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

Excellent position as a banker — Perverse misuse of it — An
example at Newmarket — Turf career — Our joint ownership
of horses.

Traducer in the Two Thousand — The Gillies dead-heat
with Brick — The trial and the race — Manrico — Getting a
horse out of a well — A bet luckily recovered — Partial stud
successes — How a breeding establishment may be ruined —
Curious disposal of yearlings — Other costly occupations, and
result — A fortune saved on a pound a week — The teeth -test
with chickens and horses — How Delilah lost and won her
pedigree— Social attributes - 382-402

CHAPTER XXIII.

CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

Trial at Woodyates and Shipton, and performances in the race
of the following : AUbrool; Hobbie Noble, Weatherbound,

xiv CONTENTS.

PACK.

Catch 'em Alive, Sultan, and Foxhall — FoxhalVs wonderful
victory — Compared with Tristan and Iroquois — Need of a
' stayer ' in the Cambridgeshire — Value of trials — Story of
the fraud as to weight in Catch ''em Alive 's year — Jockeys in
trials — Jockeys and ' stable-boys ' in the saddle contrasted —
Instances and their teaching - 403-420

CHAPTER XXIV.

' PROMISED LAND ' AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

Happy Land — Purchase of Promised Land and joint ownership
with Mr. Robinson — How entered — Initial disappointment —
Improvement — Backed for the Derby — Beats and is beat by
North Lincoln — Two Thousand trial and race — Receives for-
feit from Musjid— How I lost the Derby — The candid friend
again — My ' emaciated ' condition — Home Tooke and ' Old
Smith's bullocks ' — Incidents in the Derby— My confidence
unabated — A stereotyped answer — "Wins the Goodwood Cup
— Beat in the St. Leger.

Despised Didcibella — Trial of Killigrew — Helping a friend
— Didcibella. s trials^— Mr. Copperthwaite's belief in Bevis —
Public view of Sutherland's chance — The Cesarewitch — My
dun pony second — K'dligreio's running — A grateful jockey —
Dulcibelkis subsequent doings - 421-44&

CHAPTER XXV.

MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

Glee, by Touchstone— Young Trumpeter and horses jointly owned
— Sale of Conductor-— Characteristics — A luncheon at High
Wycombe— As a story-teller— Examples : ' The farmer and
his wife' 'British brandy' — A levee at Newmarket; Mr.
Robinson in the chair — ' The changeable foxhound puppy ' —
An octogenarian breaking a colt — A tremendous jump —
Perilous coachmanship— Energy in old age—' A bright beacon
for imitation'— Conclusion - - - 449-466

WILLIAM DAY'S REMINISCENCES.

CHAPTER I.

ME. HENRY PADWICK.

Wide interest in prominent figures on the turf — Erroneous con-
ceptions of Mr. Padwick — His origin — Business as a money-
lender— His home and friends — Introduction to racing — Trains
at Findon with my father — Purchase of Virago, and her suc-
cesses— Disappointed with Yellow Jack and St. Hubert — A
successful salesman — Three horses for £22,000 — No judge of
racing— Instances — Mistake in parting with Joe Miller —
Purchases Alvediston from me ; thought ' too good ' — A story
to the point — My purchase of Blue Rod— Flying Duchess —
Mr. Greville repudiates a purchase — A gentleman's word, and
a lesson learned — Mr. Padwick as a borrower — Sharp practice,
and what it might have cost me.

The world is ever curious to learn all that can be
learned of the characteristics of those who have cut
a figure in it. In no section of society does this
eager thirst for information exist to a greater extent
than in that which comprehends the sporting, and
especially the racing, element. The sayings and
doings of the leading turfites are carefully recorded,
to be reproduced at all appropriate seasons ; and often,

1

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

it is to be feared, without that exactness which adds
real value to the records themselves. In adding my
quota to the mass of information thus obtained, I
feel, therefore, that I shall be addressing a sympa-
thetic audience ; the more so because I can relate
incidents of which I have personal knowledge, with-
out having resort to fable, and freed from the risk of
inaccuracy. With most of the characters that I shall
venture to introduce I have been on friendly, if not
intimate, terms ; whilst my facts, when not within my
own knowledge, have all been gathered at first-hand.

Amongst the notable characters connected with
the racing world within the last three decades, none
stood forth more conspicuously than did Mr. Henry
Padwick. I may say I knew him well. The success
of his string of horses trained at Findon by my father,
Mr. John Barnham Day, was remarkable. Besides, I
had many personal dealings with him ; whilst to me
he would unbosom himself on occasion as though
to his closest friend. Of no man in a similar position
have more erroneous notions been held. He has been
represented as a modern Shylock, a nineteenth-
century Machiavelli ; and his character and habits
surrounded with an impenetrable veil of mystery.
Yet he was, like most of us, but a human being, with
some of the failing's and some of the virtues of
humanity. He, at all events, achieved a notoriety
which will render all that may be set forth concerning
his idiosyncrasies and his actions of a double value ;

ORIGIN AND EDUCATION.

and in this sense justifies the prominence I give 10
one who made and left his mark upon the time in
which he lived.

Mr. Padwick may be said to have shared with
the late Mr. Frederick Swindell, of Brighton, the
reputation of being the most successful man on the
turf in his day. He was born in Horsham, Sussex, at
which place his father was a butcher. He was not,
as we know, the first example of an exalted rise from
such an origin. His birth, if homely, proved, indeed,
no drawback to his getting on in life. He had one
advantage ; he was carefully educated, the result
being shown in the acquirement of the manners and
tastes of a gentleman. He was brought up to the
profession of the law, and in due time became a
magistrate and deputy -lieutenant of his county.
Indeed, I may say, he never looked better than when
he appeared in uniform with cocked-hat and feathers
at the opening of the Great Exhibition of 1851, at
which, in his official position, he was in attendance
on Prince Albert. He had all the advantage of a
good presence ; for though short in stature he was of
handsome and pleasing appearance, and was quite the
finished gentleman in the suavity of his manner, and
with the power, when he liked, to make himself the
best company in the world.

Henry Padwick gave to the study of the law, I
suspect, only that attention which it suited him to
give for the practical aims of his life. He certainly

1—2

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

never followed it as a profession. The business he
devoted himself to was money-lending, which he
carried on in a much larger way than any man of his
day. He had his own method of transacting business,
and would take for securities things that the staid
banker would reject as too risky. And he was
justified in the result, for he amassed a very large
fortune. He commenced business in Davis Street,
Berkeley Square ; there, at all events, I first became
acquainted with him — a house as well known to needy
politicians, noblemen, minors, and the owners of
ancestral but encumbered estates, as is Capel Court to
City men who must have the excitement of gambling
in some form — the danger of which, I may add, Mr.
Pad wick, astute as he was, learned to his sorrow at
one period of his life. As a money-lender Mr.
Padwick had, I need scarcely say, many more cus-
tomers than he chose, or indeed was able to supply,
despite the large resources at his back ; for he
worked other capital besides his own. From
Messrs. Hill and Gully, when the latter had
money, and from sundry private banking firms
and joint-stock banks, both town and country,
he received liberal supplies. To these the 10 per
cent, which Padwick could afford to pay, was an
irresistible bait when money was at 1 or lj per
cent. ; not that it is to be supposed the money was
advanced without ample security in the shape of
deposit of mortgage-deeds, or at least bills with the

HOME AND FRIENDS.

endorsement of approved names. His thoroughly
business-like habits soon won him the confidence of
these capitalists, so that he could from one source or
another command an unlimited supply of the precious
metal. His success led to an early move from Davis
Street, to a more pretentious abode, No. 2, Hill
Street, Berkeley Square — a house he resided in until
his death.

In his home Mr. Padwick lived luxuriously. He
was particular in his selection of a chef, and his table
was almost burdened with every delicacy of the season
that money could purchase. He set up also as a gour-
met ; and indeed his taste in wine was excellent, and
his cellar expensively, if not extravagantly, supplied
with the choicest vintages. Of this custom I ought to
have a grateful recollection, for he once made me a
present of some 1820 port, and of some madeira that
had been to Calcutta and back twice. I do not pretend
to be a connoisseur myself, but have sufficiently often
partaken of his hospitality to speak with some autho-
rity of his judgment. As he used to say to me in his
characteristic way, ' I can poison myself much quicker
and cheaper than by drinking bad port.' His affability
and generous disposition soon brought him a host of
friends ; or I should perhaps more advisedly put it,
added immensely to his stock of acquaintances. For
I am reminded of the story of the gentleman who,
when boasting of his numerous friends, was told ' that
whilst the church itself would not hold his acquaint-

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

ances, his friends could be put in the pulpit without
inconvenience.' At all events, one thing I can affirm —
Mr. Padwick knew everyone that was worth money,
or that had it to lend, or that wanted to borrow it.

Mr. Padwick commenced racing in 1849, when he
ran his horses in the familiar black jacket and orange
cap, and assumed the aristocratic nom cle plume of
Howard. He began by buying a large number of
yearlings, for most of which he paid high prices.
These were sent to Danebury ; but not one of his,
nor indeed of any others sent there that year — over
forty in number — proved worth anything, except
Prestige, and she only won for him three races of
moderate value the following year. Such ill luck
would have daunted any but the most enthusiastic ;
but it redoubled his ardour. From that time he
became the man of the day amongst turfites. At all
the best yearling sales Mr. Padwick was to be seen,
my father by his side, giving 1,000 guineas for this
and 1,200 guineas for that, and fairly astounding the
ring of would-be buyers by the prices he bid. Yellow
Jack and Queens Head were bought out of the
Queen's or Mr. Greville's sale for these sums exactly,
if I remember rightly, the mare fetching the most.
His horses did not remain long at Danebury after
this, being transferred in 1853 to Findon, where my
father had still the management of his now small but
choice stable. Mr. Padwick had bought a property
here and built some excellent stabling, and from it he

'VIRAGO'S' SUCCESSES.

raced with extraordinary success — such success as he
never had before or after, or indeed as scarcely any-
one else has ever enjoyed.

It was at Findon that Virago was trained in 1853.
She was bought for Mr. Padwick bymy father privately
from Mr. Stephenson when a yearling for £300, but
had to go through the sale-ring at Doncaster, when
he once more, ostensibly, became her owner at this
figure or thereabouts. I remember my father saying,
before he bought her, that he had seen the finest
yearling in the world, and that he should buy her for
Mr. Padwick, cost what she might. He did, and she
turned out the best three-year-old in England, or
indeed in the world. She was by Pyrrhus the First,
out of Virginia, by Rowton. She was a beautiful,
rich, but rather dark coloured chestnut, with a little
white on her off-hind pastern, standing about sixteen
hands high, very powerful and lengthy ; a small and
generous head, with a short straight neck, but a little
upright in her fore-legs ; very quiet, and having fine
temper. Take her all in all she was a splendid mare,
and quite as good as she looked. She ran only once
as a two-year-old at Shrewsbury Autumn Meeting ;
winner to be sold for £80, and unplaced. I should
remind my readers that in those clays it was only the
winner that could be bought or claimed, or she would
not have run, as her merits were too well known at
the time to her party, to run the least risk of losing
her. As a three-year-old she commenced her victorious

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

career by winning the City and Suburban and Metro-
politan Stakes at Epsom, a thing never done before or
since on the same day. In the latter she beat Mus-
covite, a five-year-old, at 21 lb., and he won the
Cesare witch Stakes easy, carrying 8 st. 3 lb. The
same year, at York, she won both the Great Northern
and Flying Dutchman Handicaps ; the 1,000 Guineas
Stake at Newmarket ; the Goodwood Cup and Nassau
Stakes ; the Yorkshire Oaks ; the Warwick and Don-
caster Cups — winning ten stakes out of eleven, of the
collective value of £9,750, beating seventy-six horses
and being herself only beat in one race (T. Y. C.) by
Ellermire, a two-year-old and very fast, at York
August meeting.

Viragos defeat on this occasion may, I think, be
readily accounted for. She had already run and won
so many long races that her speed must have been a
bit diminished, and it was an entire mistake to run
her at all over so short a course. But then the owner
had to be considered ; and Mr. Padwick could never
keep a horse in the stable if he thought he had the
least chance of winning a ribbon — in which idiosyn-
crasy he followed the practice of that renowned and
original trainer, Mr. T. Parr— of whom more later ;
and I may add, of the late Mr. Osborne. Virago, I
should name, was tried at Findon before the Epsom
Spring Meeting with Little Harry, a five-year-old, at
10 lb., and beat him easy two and a quarter miles, myself
riding the old one, who was second, and the rest beat

'YELLOW JACK' AND '57. HUBERT: 9

a long way. This at least proved how good she was,
if we may take it that she was Little Harry s equal at
even weights, and he afterwards won the Ascot
Stakes, carrying 8 st. 7 lb., beating Kingston, the
same age, at 7 lb., and fourteen others. In the winter
of 1854 she wTent a roarer ; yet in the spring of the
following year won the Port Stakes at Newmarket,
beating Acrobat. After this she gradually got worse,
and never was again a winner, though she ran well in
both the Koyal Hunt and Ascot Cups. Ultimately,
after running ingloriously unplaced in the Craven
Stakes at Goodwood in 1855, she left the exciting
scenes of the turf, where she had so often been
victorious, for rest at the stud, but proved the reverse
of a success. Lord Stradbrooke bought her of
Mr. Padwick after her last race at Goodwood for
£500. Had it not been for her roaring; she would
have fetched four times as much. She was the dam
of Thalestris — which, carrying a light weight, won the
Cesarewitch for Lord Coventry — probably the best she
ever bred. She died in 1869.

Mr. Padwick owned other good horses. Amongst
these was Scythian, bought of Colonel Anson after
being beat at Goodwood, who won many races, in-
cluding the Chester Cup of 1855, on which Mr. Pad-
wick landed a good stake ; Cheval oV Industrie, Little
Harry, Theodora, Vaidtress, Eclipse, St. Hubert,
Kangaroo and Alvediston. Yellow Jack and Queens
Head I have already named. Of these, just as Virago

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

was his best, Yellow Jack and St. Hubert were the
unlucky ones. As for the former, it is true a glorious
future appeared to be before him when he won as a
two-year-old at Newmarket ; but the next year he was
actually second in every race he ran : to Fazzoletto
for the Two Thousand ; to One Act for the Chester
Cup ; to Ellington for the Derby, and to Fly-by-
Night for the Ascot Derby ; to Rogerthorpe — his
(Padwick's) own friend Hill's horse — for the Goodwood
Cup ; and finished up his awful career by running
second (shall it be told !) even to Barber's horse, The
Prince of Orange, in a Sweepstakes £200 each, at
Doncaster. St. Hubert, another good horse, never
absolutely won Mr. Padwick a race. For the Two
Thousand he was backed for a heavy stake with odds
of 7 to 4 on him, when he ran second to Lord of the-
Isles, beating Kingstown ; and again with odds on him
he was beaten at Goodwood, and never ran after.
Eclipse, another of his horses, ran a dead-heat with
Beadsman for the Newmarket Stakes, and divided.
Beadsman, however, beat him in the Derby. I there-
fore presume Eclipse could not stay, or must have
been unwell on the day they met for the big event.
He was afterwards sold to Mr. Ten Broeck. He
never, however, did anything for his last purchaser,
beyond receiving forfeit on a small match ; and was
sent to America, where, I believe, he got some fair
stock.

We have seen that Mr. Padwick exercised special

A SUCCESSFUL SALESMAN.

discrimination, not perhaps unaided by good fortune,
in his purchases. I have now to show that the same
shrewdness or good luck attended his sales. Kangaroo
was the sensational horse at Newmarket when he beat
the Duke of Beaufort's Koenig and eighteen others for
the Newmarket Biennial in the Craven Meeting ; and
the Marquis of Hastings purchased him of Mr. Pad wick
for £11,000, the highest price ever given for a three-
year-old in this or any other country, so far as I have
been able to ascertain. Strange to say, though I
imagine a very sound horse, Kangaroo never won a
£50 race after, being no doubt a bad one, and not
within twenty-one pounds of a racehorse. He started
for the Derby at 1,000 to 10, and was beat easily in
that and other smaller races. Again, another of his
horses, Elmstliorpe, which won him the Molecombe at
Goodwood and the Paitlancl Stakes at Newmarket,
was sold to Mr. Geo. "Whieldon for £3,000 ; and,
unluckily for his new owner, died mad, just after he
had purchased him, from disease of the brain, which
was found on a post-mortem examination to have
softened to a semi-fluid state. And if, with his
purchase of Oulston, Mr. Elwes was rather more
fortunate — for he afterwards won him the Drawing-
room Stakes at Goodwood, and so brought him back
some of the £8,000 he gave Mr. Padwick for him — yet
in no other race did he carry his new owner's colour
to victory.

These, it may be said, are some of the extraordinary

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

incidents in racing for which no satisfactory account
can be given by anyone. Nevertheless, in these
transactions Mr. Pad wick may be adjudged the
salesman without an equal, in having got rid of three
horses in training for the extraordinary sum of £22,000,
or an average of £7,333 each ; and not only credited
with having thus secured a small fortune, but also
with the judgment shown in selecting the time for
parting with them — just when they had done all the
good they were likely to do for him or anyone else,
and had shown public form sufficient to enhance their
value in the eyes of eager purchasers.

Nevertheless, with all his acumen, Mr. Padwick
was not a good judge of racing. His study had been
the study of mankind and the state of their exchequer,
rather than the merits of his horses and where to
place them with the best chance of success. One
instance that came under my own observation will
serve to show this disability on his part. In the
spring of 1861 he came to see Ahediston, who was
then very big (if any of my horses in training were
ever thought to be so), not having to run early. On
his return the next day he wrote and expressed his
wish that the horse should run shortly after at Epsom
in the "Woodcote Stakes. I reasoned with him on the
impropriety of doing anything so indiscreet ; but to
entreaty he remained inexorable. The horse ran, was
well beaten, and he lost his money, as he richly deserved
to do. He then arranged that the horse should be

MISTAKE WITH 'JOE MILLER: 13

kept for his Stockbridge engagements. But the resolve
had no sooner been made than it was broken. For
suddenly, at all risks, he would have him run at
Ascot, where he was sent about three parts fit, having
had but a hurried preparation. Luckily he just won
the New Stakes ; plainly showing, as I have before
said, all that Mr. Padwick wanted was to see his
horses kept running. The condition they were in
was to him of little consequence, notwithstanding that
he was sure to back them for a good stake. "Now this
was not, in my opinion, the action of a clever, nor,
indeed, of a discreet man.

In another instance, that of Joe Miller, he showed
a similar faulty judgment. When this horse was two
years old, he was the property of Messrs. Padwick,
Parker and Farrance. I thought well of him, and
backed him for his race at Stockbridge, as they did.
Here he met Chief Baron Nicholson (called after the
presiding genius of 'the Coal-hole') and Kingston.
At the distance, I thought the former would win
easily ; and as I did not want to be second, or run up
a good third, I did not persevere with my horse,
knowing I could not win. The result was a dead-
heat between The Baron and Kingston, the former,
through want of condition, standing still in the last
hundred yards. This I told Mr. Padwick. It was
run off, ending in a second dead-heat and a division.
This result would go to prove that the condition of
Chief Baron Nicholson was as good as that of the

i4 MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

other. But I hold that the pace was not so good in
the second race, of which a dead-heat was made owing
to the riding of my brother Alfred, who was up, care-
full}" nursing the horse to the last and coming with
one rush. That this was so, was proved in the follow-
ing year, when The Baron beat both Kingston and
Joe Miller easily in the Derby, running third to
Daniel G'Rourhe and Barbarian; a race, however,
which seemed to have upset him, insomuch that he
could beat nothing after, and was indeed beat in turn
in a canter at Stockbridge by the others.

Joe Miller was second to Frantic for the Goodwood
Nursery Stakes, and would have won had he not been
shut in opposite the stand. Yet Mr. Padwick would
not see his merits even here, and asked Alfred to ride
him for the King John Stakes at Egham, when he
was last. Now the latter, it pleased Mr. Padwick to
conclude, was his true form ; that, in short, the horse
was good for nothing, and that he would be wise to
get rid of his share in him. Mr. Francis Clarke (the
' Argus ' of BelVs Life in those days), a friend of all
parties, was called in to say what Mr. Padwick's share
was worth, and he put it at £750, or about double
what it would have fetched at public auction. Yet,
as it turned out the next year, this proved to be but
a tithe of his value ; for he won among other races
the Chester Cup, beating forty-two other horses, and
the Emperor's Plate at Ascot, in which Voltigeur,
Hobbie Noble, and six others were behind him, £3,830

lA SPRAT TO CATCH A MACKEREL: 15

being the value of the stakes. Fortunately Mr. Padwick
backed him for the Cup, and thus had a little salve to
his hasty indiscretion in parting with him.

I have referred to the mistake he made with
Alvediston. In connection with his purchase of this
animal from me, at the time being known as The
Crossfire Colt, Mr. Padwick's subsequent attitude was
characteristic if original. In the autumn of 18 GO he
came with Lord Westmoreland to buy two horses —
Schism and The Crossfire Colt. His lordship took
the former for £1,500, and Mr. Padwick the colt for
£600, with the proviso that £400 more should be
paid on his winning £1,000 — a sum duly paid over
the New Stakes at Ascot. Schism's performances
were well known, and from them his lordship could
judge of her value, and in taking her at the sum as
usual committed no error in judgment; for he recouped
himself the outlay, and a considerable sum besides, in
winning the Handicap in the Second October Meeting
over the Cesarewitch course no great time after. But
with The Crossfire Colt or Alvediston it was a very
different thing. Here Mr. Padwick took my word,
and believed him to be what I thought and said he
was ; and he was not disappointed. For after winning,
as before related, the New Stakes at Ascot and a
Stake at Stockbridge, he refused £6,500 — a sum I
strongly recommended him to take, as I thought the
horse was too furnished and small, to improve much
with ag;e. Mr. Padwick, however, would not take

1 6 MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

less than £7.000. On the second day he ran a dead-
heat with Mr. Merry's Costa, which stake was divided,
and was then sold for a very much less sum and left me
— only winning once at Goodwood after — and finished
his career ingloriously by being beat, as an aged geld-
ing;, in a Selling; race, winner to be sold for £20.

Whether or not Mr. Padwick thought, to use an
inelegant but apt illustration, I had ' set a sprat to
catch a mackerel/ and sold him a horse for £1,000,
knowing him to be worth £5,000 at the time, in the
vain hope of inducing him to give that sum or more
for one not worth a guinea, and conceived me to
be as well versed as himself in an art in which he
was so eminently proficient, I am not prepared to
say. But as he never bought another of me, I pre-
sume he was not well pleased with his meditations on
the subject, and thought himself deceived. However,
wTe always remained friends in the common acceptation
of the word.

This easy assumption by Mr. Padwick that decep-
tion of any kind was practised in the matter,
irresistibly brings to mind the story of the astute
young gentleman, who having freely anticipated his
fortune, applied to a rich uncle to oblige him with a
temporary loan of £1,000 — a request readily assented
to. With a deep ulterior motive, the money was
promptly repaid, with thanks. The nephew concluded
he had hit upon a veritable gold mine. The ready
compliance with the first request ; the straightforward

'BLUE ROCK' AND 'FLYING DUCHESS.' 17

repayment of the advance — gave assurance doubly
sure that the dear, generous old uncle could deny the
nephew nothing. So a second application was con-
fidently made, this time for the loan of a couple of
thousand. To the nephew's great astonishment the
request met with a flat refusal.

' No,' said the uncle ; ' you deceived me.'

1 How V answered the nephew hastily. ' I repaid
you punctually.'

' Yes, indeed,' retorted the other ; ' but I never
expected you would!

One word more concerning the sale of Alvediston,
which horse had been called after the place where
I was living. The sale was duly set forth in the
local paper, and a Mr. H. Parham, a farmer in the
neighbourhood, wrote to me and inquired, ' if I
did not want to farm it myself, would I be good
enough to ask Mr. Padwick if he would give him the
offer of it to rent V I need not say Mr. Parham was
not a racing man.

Of other dealings direct or indirect with Mr. Pad-
wick, I call to mind the following : On the occasion
of his purchase of Lord Exeter's stud by private
contract, the horses were resold by public auction, or
in other ways. One of them, Blue Mock, I bought as
a yearling for ten guineas at Tattersall's. He proved
a good investment, winning the Great Eastern Handi-
cap, the Cup at Shrewsbury, and other races. The
then Lord Anglesey was also fortunate in buying at

9

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

the same time and place the Flying Duchess, which,
after winning a nice stake or two for him, was in my
stud at Alvediston, and later became the dam of the
famous Derby winner Galopin, now such a fashionable
sire at Blankney, where he is located with Mr.
Chaplin's prince of stallions, Hermit, whose dam, by
the way, Seclusion, was also with me as a yearling.
On another occasion I bought with him Mr. Simpson's
yearlings, forty-five in number, at £40 each. But
long before the day appointed for their resale by
public auction, he withdrew from the contract ; and
rather than hold him to his verbal engagement, I took
them over myself. The sale, which took place at
Alvediston, was a fair one, and I had no cause to
regret the course I had taken ; and as to the result of
it, no one was more surprised perhaps than Mr.
Padwick himself.

In connection with this sale, I should mention one,
to me, very disagreeable incident. When Brother
to Seclusion came up to the ring, a horse on which I
had put a reserve of 1,000 guineas, asking my brother
John to bid to that price for me, I noticed that he
went beyond that figure, and when some one had bid
1,050 guineas, he bid 1,100 guineas for him, at which
price, as I afterwards learned, he had bought him for
Mr. C. C. Greville. But this gentleman refused to

take him. He declared that ' he was told I had run
him up ' (which was utterly untrue), and ' that he
was not worth the money ' (a thing he could not

A GENTLEMAN'S WORD. 19

possibly have known). He begged my brother's
acceptance of a hundred-pound note for his trouble,
and asked him to keep the horse, which John did, and
won a race or two at Newmarket with him, though
he was never very good.

I must say that Mr. Greville's action on this occasion
was a great surprise to me. He was just the last
person in the world that I should have thought
would have been guilty of anything of the kind.
For supposing, which is quite possible, that instead of
one horse, he had instructed my brother to purchase
ten horses at the same or even a larger price, the
latter would as undoubtedly have faithfully executed
the commission, as Mr. Greville would as assuredly,
I may take it, have repudiated the whole transaction
without regard to the result, which might have been
my brother's ruin. This is one instance, of which I
fear there may be too many, when the word of a
gentleman unfortunately is not always to be taken in
its bare simplicity ; and proves that in this, as in
other things, ' the great ones of the earth ' will be
found very much like the rest of mankind.

This was the first time I found Mr. Padwick run
from his word, in which I had implicitly trusted ; for
had he not trusted me in the same frank way in the
purchase of Alvediston? and could I let 'ingratitude
so besmear me ' as to be less confiding in him ?
However, it taught me a lesson that has been useful
in after life and to the present day. We have all

2—2

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

heard of ' A horse kicking, a dog biting, and a
gentleman's word without his handwriting ;' and I
should no doubt have had a proper stamped agree-
ment, attested by an independent witness. The
lesson, at all events, saved me £500 shortly after-
wards in another transaction I had with him, an
account of which will fitly find a place here.

In my dealings with Mr. Padwick, I have been both
a borrower and a lender. His charge to strangers
was 50 per cent., rising sometimes, as in the case of
poor Starkey, to 500 per cent. ; but to friends he would
charge the not very unreasonable rate of 20 per cent.
He was willing himself to pay 10 per cent, for the
use of the needful funds, and at this rate I once lent
him £2,000 on his own bill of exchange. It was just
after Weatherbound had won the Cambridgeshire,
when I was of course in funds ; although I mention
the fact merely to show the method of repayment, and
that whilst it was easy enough to part with the money
in one sum, it was only recoverable in driblets, and
after considerable trouble in gaining repossession of it
at all.

The last instalment of the loan, now represented
by his acceptance for £500, was falling due, when he
came all the way to Woodyates to settle it. As he
could just as readily have concluded the matter by
sending me, through the post, his own cheque crossed
to my banker, the method adopted somewhat excited
my suspicion, as in the end it served to create con-

SHARP PRACTICE.

siderable distrust. He dined with rne, and was to
sleep at Woody ates ; but the subject that brought
him there was not broached until we were just pre-
paring to go to bed. Then he began with perfect
nonchalance.

' Oh ! William,' he said, ' I have Mr. Isaacson's bill
for £500. It falls due on the 4th'— laying it
on the table as he spoke. ' Here it is, and it is as
good as a Bank of England note. Have you mine by
you V

I replied in the affirmative, and added that I had
no doubt Mr. Isaacson's name would be good enough
with his endorsement added.

' Yes,' he said, in the most innocent way ; ' but for
private reasons I would rather not have my name
appear to it just now ; and your bank, you know, will
take it with your endorsement.'

I had, however, my own very particular, if not
private reasons, causing me to decline to take the bill
without his signature ; and ultimately he endorsed it,
and the matter was concluded, he taking one bill and
I the other, when we parted for the night. Both the
drawer and the acceptor of the bill he gave me proved
to be, as I suspected at the time, although they were
strangers to me, men of straw, and in a few days the
bill came back dishonoured ; on being apprised of
which Mr. Padwick promptly sent me his cheque for
the amount. I should add that the acceptor, Mr.
Isaacson, within a week shot himself with a pistol at

MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

Datchet ; and had it not been for my precaution in
having Mr. Padwick's valuable autograph to the docu-
ment, I should assuredly have lost the money. Some
may think Mr. Pad*vick would have seen me through.
But I suspect he would have treated it, in his pleasant
way, ' as a matter of business ;' and if I had been
foolish enough to take an unendorsed bill, would have
left me to stand the racket of it.

CHAPTER II.

MR. HENRY PADWICK (cO)ltinued).

The business of money-lending— Mr. Padwick's clients— His
share in the affair of The Earl and Lady Elizabeth ; Admiral
Eous's interference— Conduct towards Mr. Whieldon ; repaid
in his own coin — Entrapped by a fair borrower — The Duchess

of N ; a loan on brickbats— Equal to the emergency— A

frail client— His character, method of dealing, all on one side-
How ancestral estates are lost — Attempt to sell a Derby
favourite on Sunday ; disastrous result ; the favourite missing —
Connection with Gully and Hill— Insatiable for wealth— His
end.

I have given two instances of my dealings with Mr.
Henry Padwick in which everything was not entirely
above suspicion. Yet, in justice to his memory, I
should add that both before and after, I had many
important business transactions with him in which
there was no cause whatever for distrust. The rates
of interest charged were no doubt always high. But
this is a matter with which I have nothing to do ;
nor do I think other people had much right to com-
plain. For it should be remembered that it is the
borrowers who seek the money-lender, and not he
who goes to them. There is no compulsion. If they

24 MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

think his terms too high, they can decline them and
go elsewhere. The usury laws have long since been
abolished, and if the money-lender is not generous, he
is, it must be recollected, carrying on business at very
considerable risk, and must exercise care in the way
he thinks best suited to his own interest, which of
necessity precludes any great regard for the interests
of others.

I do not wish to champion in the least a fraternity
I dislike. Yet I think it more often happens that
men are injured through their own innate stupidity
or carelessness, than by the extortionate charges of
the usurer. When the friendly banker and family
solicitor refuse further advances, then recourse is had
to the money-lender, whose timely aid has saved
many a one — that is, when the money so raised has
been judiciously applied to business purposes. And
in such cases, if the extra risk which he runs be taken
into account, no one would grudge the lender a little
interest beyond the current rate.

Mr. Padwick had for his clients the shrewd and the
simple, the noble and the ignoble ; and though on the
whole he must have had the best of his business trans-
actions, yet it cannot be doubted that at times he met
more than his match ' and caught a tartar.' He
assured me that he lost over £17,000 (cash lent) by
the late Duke of Newcastle, and much more by other
specimens of the august type of borrowers. The
part he played in the case of the notorious Lady

ADMIRAL ROUS AND 'THE EARL.' 25

Elizabeth and her stable companion, the equally
memorable The Earl, does not concern me, or perhaps
anyone else, so long as the owner, the late Lord
Hastings, was satisfied. And that he wras satisfied,
his manly letter written at the time amply testifies.
In fact, the affair gained its unpleasant and prominent
publicity entirely through what I feel constrained to
term the imbecile officiousness of the late Admiral
Eous, in writing a hasty and ill-judged letter to the
Times on the scratching of The Earl in that year's
Derby, for which Messrs. Padwick and Hill were
generally held responsible. It was this letter that
drew from Lord Hastings the reply I have mentioned,
and cost my brother John £800 to defend himself
against its injustice. As for the Admiral's part in the
matter — to say the least of it, he had no occasion to
have anything whatever to do with it ; for his valuable
opinion not having been asked, he need not have
given it. His interference was, indeed, in strict
keeping with his fondness for censuring some one,
and zeal for reforming turf abuses, or what he con-
sidered such, without waiting for proof of any kind.
Of this curious predilection on the Admiral's part it
may well be said : ' All's not offence that indiscretion
finds and dotage terms so.'

Amongst Mr. Pad wick's most gentlemanly and
pleasant visitors on business was Mr. Whieldon, of
Wyke House, Gillingham. Unlucky, as others have
been, this gentleman failed to meet his engagements,

26 MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

and fearing the consequences, left his native land and
reached the shores of France — in safety, as he fondly
supposed. But guess his astonishment to find that,
on reaching the hoped-for asylum, he was immediately
taken into custody and incarcerated in a French
prison, little better than a dungeon. It appeared
that one of his creditors, Mr. Padwick, had been equal
to the occasion, and ostensibly selling his debt to a
Frenchman, secured the arrest of the debtor. This
was, however, no greater penalty than anyone may
look to be called upon to pay who has dealings with a
sharp practitioner ; and what money-lender does not
fall within the category ? Nevertheless, as what
follows will tell us, Mr. Padwick, with all his smart-
ness, received, in turn, a Poland for his Oliver.

I should preface what I am about to relate by
observing that Mr. Padwick had one weakness. He
was, in his own opinion, a gallant of no ordinary
type, the very personification of chivalry, and hand-
some and bewitching as Cupid. Whether driven to
the step by actual need, or merely prompted by anger
to revenge the wretched treatment which her husband
had received, Mrs. Whieldon, fascinatingly dressed,
called on Mr. Padwick at his house in Hill Street, and
besought his aid in a very delicate and most im-
portant affair. The lady was possessed of considerable
personal attractions, aided by most charming manners,
and also had the assistance, in her design, of the
possession of property apart from her husband. It is

ENTRAPPED BY A FAIR BORROWER. 27

needless to say that in the hands of this special
pleader and excellent judge of character, the astute
money-lender had no chance. He was not proof
against the influence of such charming naivete and
eloquence, and the favour sought was no sooner named
than granted. Eight thousand pounds on mortgage
was business to him, and, on an emergency of this
kind, the rate of interest was a matter of no conse-
quence to the lady. A cheque for the amount was
drawn on the spur of the moment, and the bargain
concluded— save the mortgage, which was to follow.

His charming; visitor having- left him, Mr. Padwick
indulged in a pleasant reverie, having for its subject
the short and exciting interview just ended. But
suddenly waking to his customary sober, business-like
habits, he prudently and immediately sent to stop
payment of the cheque ; only to learn, with great
disgust, on the return of the messenger that it had
already been presented and paid. He now began to
see that he had been cajoled into the belief that the
lady had been acting in her own behalf, instead of at
the instigation of her husband. The upshot of the
affair was that he lost his money, and was very sore
about it. Ever after, in referring to the subject, he
declared ' he always felt a pain in his stomach when
it crossed his mind.' This anecdote, as most others I
relate, I give without embellishment or mutilation on
the authority of Mr. Padwick himself; and in its truth
I thoroughly believe, as I do in that of the following

28 MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

alarming incident, in which a fair one was again a
borrower, though to his great delight it ended harm-
lessly.

A necessitous Duchess called on him with her
casket of jewels, which, for safety's sake, she had
sealed with her own signet, which latter, in the
hurry, she had left at home. It would therefore be
impossible to see them ; but as the casket contained
valuables to the extent of something like £50,000,
her word might be taken that it was ample security
for a loan of £5,000 ; and as it was viewed in the
same generous light by Mr. Padwick, he advanced the
trifle. Time wore on, and the money was not forth-
coming as expected. Wanting it for other purposes,
the lender grew impatient at the numberless trivial
excuses made, and ultimately resolved to ascertain, if
possible, the nature of the contents of the box. Mr.
Padwick skilfully contrived to have just a peep, and,
horror-stricken, saw enough to convince him that
instead of jewellery, it contained nothing but small
brickbats. But here his self-possession was equal to
the occasion, for, carefully refastening the box, he
adroitly managed to get repaid, by holding out the
alluring bait, ' that at any other time her Grace could
always have double the sum on giving a few days'
notice.' I need not say that when the money ivas
paid over, he gave up the so-called security with
marvellous alacrity.

Report credits Mr. Padwick with having had yet

A LOAN ON BRICKBATS. 29

another fair client of prepossessing appearance, and
manners most irresistible. Nellie Holmes was a well-
known character, who by her condescending behaviour
not only gathered riches together, but contrived to
raise herself from obscurity to the Peerage, and
became in Eotten Eow for many seasons the observed
of all gentleman observers. Like other fair, frail
ones, she died in poverty ; and her experience of this
life was probably much the same as that of most of
her compeers, one of utter barrenness in the effort
and result —

' To beguile many, and be beguiled by one.'

At all events, if rumour be believed, one of these
fair creatures was in the clays of her affluence a
fortunate acquisition to the gallant money-lender's
list of clients. For she left in his hands the sum of
£10,000 for safe keeping at the usual rate of interest,
10 per cent., which undoubtedly would be well taken
care of till wTanted, and made to bring forth increase
in the interval.

Moving in all grades of society, Mr. Padwick never
seemed out of his sphere. In the company of either
sex he was always welcome, for he was irresistibly
suasive and plausible. He was witty and clever,
although, no doubt, he often found himself with
others who knew more than himself. He was, how-
ever, impatient under defeat, and accustomed to deal
with the suspicious, became suspicious himself. I do

3o MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

not know whether the failing was inherent in his
character ; but it was one that he cherished to the
end, leading him unfortunately into both loss and
trouble. Necessarily, in his calling he was no stranger
to litigation. Yet he must have always been well
advised to work behind the scenes, for I do not
remember his appearance in the witness-box, where
many of his craft are too often seen to their disgrace.
He did not believe in the adage, ' Neither a borrower
nor a lender be,' for he was both. Indeed, to borrow
with one hand and lend with the other to his own
advantage was the one object of his life, to which all
other motives were made secondary. I do not profess
to be able to describe exactly his modus operandi ;
but I should think the following would represent
what he would consider a good transaction, and one
dear to his heart. The advance of a few thousands
at the outset would soon be doubled and trebled by
accumulated interest and expenses into a formidable
sum. To this would be added a few race-horses at his
own prices, some houses perhaps, or a few acres of
land of which he wanted to be rid ; and these would
form the sole consideration for which the title-deeds
of an ancestral estate would pass from the hands of
the luckless borrower into his own. In this, or a
similar way, he became possessed of Spye Park, one
of the most beautiful and romantic estates in Wilt-
shire ; and of how many more nobody knows, although
Mr. Forbes Bentley, the purchaser of Mr. Pad wick's

A DERBY FAVOURITE MISSING. 31

stud, and of his house and stables at Find on, could
probably enlighten us on the subject.

I had almost omitted to mention one incident
illustrative of Mr. Padwick's eagerness for ' a deal ' in
horseflesh, and its curiously unfortunate result. In
the last days of my father's management of Findon,
Mr. Padwick came on a Sunday with a party to see
his Derby favourite, Belgrade, at exercise. Now my
father of late years, like myself, never exercised his
horses on Sunday. But Mr. Padwick was urgent.
' It would make,' he said, ' thousands of pounds
difference to him if his friends saw his horse out and
his beautiful action when extended, instead of seeing
him merely in the stable, picture as he was ' ; or, as
the dealers would say, ' his very shadow on the wall
was of untold value.' My father would not give
way.

' Belgrade is your horse,' he said, ' as well as the
rest, and you can do as you like with them. But if
you take them out, Goater may go with you if he
likes, but you must excuse me.'

This was enough. Belgrade and a few more were
at once taken to the Downs and cantered, when a
scene occurred which Mr. Padwick could never have
forgotten to his dying day, nor his astonished friends
either. Galloping with an old horse, Belgrade became
frightened at nothing, or at nothing that could be
seen. Generally of a docile disposition, he now became
suddenly unmanageable, and dashed off at a furious

32 MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

rate down a steep hill, little short of a precipice. The
boy in a fright threw himself off, and the horse was
left to pursue his headlong career. Goater on his
hack and the gentlemen in their carriage went madly
after him. But all to no purpose. Belgrade soon
outdistanced them and was lost to sight, after divest-
ing himself of his saddle and bridle and every particle
of clothing except his boots. As nothing could be seen
or heard of him, Goater returned in the evening to
relate the catastrophe to my father, intending the next
morning again to scour the country in search of the
missing Derby favourite. This trouble he was, how-
ever, saved ; for some one called to know ' if a horse
had been lost, as one was caught in his yard late last
night, and was now in the end of the barn tied up
with a halter.' A man was soon sent with clothing,
and the horse was brought back in a terrible plight.

Thus ended Mr. Padwick's attempt to show off a
Derby favourite on a Sunday, with a view to his
advantageous sale, simply preventing a result he could
easily have attained on any other day. Whether the
horse was good for anything before, or whether the
Sunday gallop ruined him, I never heard; but certainly
he was never good for anything after. And it was
Mr. Padwick's last visit to Findon on a Sunday whilst
my father trained for him.

Mr. Padwick was at heart a gambler. He was as
great an adept at cards, betting, or dice as he was at
racing, or even in his special business. Of this gambling

CONNECTION WITH GULLY AND HILL. 35

propensity he gave sufficient proof on one occasion.
He won on Virago as a three-year-old £80,000 in
bets, and lost this immense amount or more the same
year on the Stock Exchange, on information that an
astute City man would have scouted as slender as a
thread. He was undoubtedly a confederate with John
Gully in Andover and other horses, and was even
reputed to have been connected in the same way with
the redoubtable Harry Hill, although my brother
John always assured me there was no truth in the
latter report. He was often at Danebury when Hill
was there, which fact may have given rise to the
rumour. The three were often seen on the race-
course in company, although both Gully and Hill
were too clever to accompany Mr. Padwick to the
gaming-tables at the different race-meetings and other
places, to whose incomings he must have been a mine
of wealth.

He trained at White wall, Danebury, Epsom, and
other places ; but never with the success he attained
at Findon, where shortly after the episode above
related, my father, on retiring from active life, was
succeeded by Mr. William Goater, an unpretending
but accomplished trainer and an estimable man, who
did him justice with the rest of his clients. Mr.
Padwick had other trainers, and his restless spirit
was always seeking some new venture for the useless
purpose of adding further store to his accumulated
wealth. But virtually his racing career was at an

3

34 MR. HENRY PAD WICK.

end. He had but few or no good horses afterwards,
nor cared to give much in making further purchases.

He was undoubtedly a most successful and exceed-
ingly clever man ; but the risk he was continually
running in his multifarious and gigantic transactions
made him irritable, and even his doubtful pleasure
could have been but ' restless ecstasy,' whilst his
disquietude must have been often lasting and painful.
A complication of diseases, gout (to which he was a
martyr), and bronchitis, brought his fitful life to a
close in the autumn of 1880 at his town residence,
Hill Street, Berkeley Square, after suffering much
pain, leaving a wife and son to lament his loss.

CHAPTER III.

JOHN BAYNTON STARKKY, ESQ.

The turf injured by foolish supporters — Unaccountable disappear-
ance of Mr. Starkey's fortune — Purchase of Veridas — Disastrous
defeat ; ' save us from our friends ' — Ownership of Fisherman
and Leamington — Aggregate winnings — No large loser by racing
or betting — Curious settlement of trainers' accounts — Propensity
to bet — First transaction with Mr. Padwick — How a debt of
£22,000 was created — Another deal and its result — Mr. Padwick
as owner of Spye Park — Bound to ruin himself — Other examples
and their lesson — Idiosj'ncrasies ; curious ' get-up j' mode of
travelling ; delight in 'attending a toilet' — Personal experience
of giving my name ; a ' tidy ' practitioner — His end, and sale
of Spye Park.

In the previous chapter I have described the career of
one of the most successful men of his day upon the
turf. Now in turn, and by way of contrast, I may
give a brief outline of the life of one of the most un-
fortunate of those who have ever had to do with
racing. Yet in describing Mr. J. B. Starkey as unfor-
tunate, I must be careful to say that he was the origin
of all the trouble he brought upon himself. We have
been told that knowledge is nothing to him that is not
known by others to possess it : and that perpetual

3—2

36 JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

levity, though it may fire the spirits for an hour, will
make life short and miserable. Amongst the numerous
and varied characters who have figured in the racing
world, no doubt many have shown the possession of
wisdom and subtilty. Yet the existence of these
qualities will scarcely, I think, equal the rival claims
to notice of the folly, the indiscretion which in the
same arena has 'made virtue itself turn vice when
misapplied ;' and every attempted display of know-
ledge has proved but a betrayal to greater errors in
the prosecution of chimerical and immature schemes.

In the racing community there exist two classes of
men, whose aims, though diametrically opposed, are
yet equally injurious to its true interests. The first
class comprises those impecunious adventurers and
reckless gamblers who, having nothing to lose but
a thing, their possession of which no one will ever dis-
cover— character, to wit — stop at nothing that will
brine ' grist to the mill.' The other is the thoughtless
gentleman, who, having all the attainments needful
to make racing and the racecourse a scene of enjoy-
ment as great to others as himself, yet for the lack of
discretion mars the most praiseworthy intentions, to
the detriment of the sport itself. Indeed, I am not
prepared to say that the latter is not, unconsciously,
the more harmful of the two. For he sets an example
followed by those who look up to him as a pillar of
the turf, and one of its most honourable supporters.
The adventurer, pure and simple, on the other hand,

DISAPPEARANCE OF HIS FORTUNE. 37

is a character too well known to have the power to
influence either the sport itself or other people. So
long as he keeps within the pale of the broad rules
which regulate racing — and the peculiar shrewdness
of the class enables it generally to manage to do
so — whatever the adventurer may do is little noticed
and certainly not openly canvassed.

Mr. John Baynton Starkey may be taken as an
illustrative example of the class I refer to — the racing
gentleman who, if he possesses the power of dis-
criminating between good and evil, for some fortuitous
or unaccountable reasons elects to follow the latter.
For the short time he was with us no man could
have been better known, or more universally respected,
until the period of his utter collapse, when it was dis-
covered that he was shrouded in embarrassments and
unable to pay his way or face his troubles. Then he
presented the pitiable spectacle of the man who has
inflicted loss on all with whom he has been, connected,
without the palliation of becoming so reduced through
unavoidable misfortune. Mr. Starkey was well edu-
cated, generous to a degree, if eccentric to folly. To
this eccentricity perhaps his downfall may be attri-
buted. He was markedly unostentatious in his mode
of living, and had no apparent means of spending
£1,000 a year ; and yet in the course of some half-
dozen years he managed to get rid of a fortune of
£300,000, or at the rate of £50,000 per annum.
This is almost incredible. And as he raced, his mis-

38 JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

fortunes have naturally been attributed to following
sport in this form. Yet I think I can show that its
thoughtless votaries, such as Mr. Starkey was, do
more injury to the repute of our national pastime
than all the avowed gamblers and unscrupulous
schemers that are its real plague-spots. For I can
prove beyond doubt that in his connection with the
turf Mr. Starkey was by no means, at any time, a
heavy loser.

Amongst other horses, he was the owner of Venclas,
which he bought at Mr. Blenkiron's sale. He bought
her, it may be said, almost by accident, or at all
events on the spur of the moment. In his good-
natured way he did not, as he said, ' like to partake of
his host's hospitalit}^ without making a bid for some-
thing.' And he showed this sense of gratitude in
action better than words. For when the animal was
brought into the ring he made the only bid, £210,
and to his surprise and dismay the hammer fell, as he
himself nearly fell too at the shock. The first use he
made of this good animal was to his own destruction
and heavy loss. In the Danebury Nursery he had
another horse running, Land Tax, which he had
backed for a lot of money. But he entered the mare
also, according to his own account, to make a field,
which was already large and respectable enough for
the purpose ; and she came and won, whilst Land Tax
was second. I really believe he was rather pleased
than otherwise with the result. At all events, he

OWNERSHIP OF 'LEAMINGTON: 39

appeared delighted, as we may be sure were the
fielders ; but not so his friends and followers, who
were dreadfully crestfallen at such an unlooked-for
and disastrous result.

Fisherman again, though he ran in the name of
Mr. T. Parr and Mr. Higgins, as well as his own,
belonged, Mr. Starkey assured me, to himself ; and I
think it very probable it was so. In four years he
won sixty-nine races of the value of £10,517., and was
sold for, I believe, £1,500 to go abroad. If to this
£12,000 we add £3,000 for the winnings of Land
Tax, Veridas, and his other horses, it would give a
total gain of £15,000. Moreover, I have Mr. Starkey's
authority for believing that Leamington was always
his. He ran, it is true, in Mr. Higgins's name, as did
Fisherman at times also. But as there were extensive
monetary transactions between the two gentlemen, it
is fair to assume that when the horses passed into
Mr. Higgins's hands for money advanced, and from
him to Mr. Starkey, most likely for a deferred pay-
ment in the shape of a bill not met at maturity, they
would ostensibly reappear as Mr. Higgins's property ;
and in spite of the many changes of ownership, they
would really always have remained the redeemable
property of Mr. Starkey, as he always positively
asserted they were. Leamington won the Chester
Cup twice, besides other large stakes, and was
ultimately sold to go to America, where, like another
expatriated horse, Buccaneer, who got Kisber in

4o JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

Austria, he became the sire of a Derby winner in
Iroquois.

If we value Leamington and his earnings at the
moderate figure of £10,000, we have a total of £25,000
as representing Mr. Starkey's winnings. Thus it
appears that racing in itself could not have cost him
anything, or perhaps I should say ought not to have
done so. And this more particularly because he was
never known to have backed a horse for anything
above £10, or at the outside for a pony — except on
Veridas at Stockbridge, when, as the plungers say,
he plunged like the rest of them. But generally he
was content to put on a couple of sovereigns ; and
often his horses ran without his having a shilling on
them. If they were fortunate enough to win, if only
a £50 Plate, he was as pleased as though he had won
a thousand, not seeing or recognising that in exposing
a good horse he had thrown away the chance of
winning ten times that amount. On such races, at all
events, his winnings must have exceeded his losses.
In short, I may say he raced but a few years with
a stud that might have been purchased and kept the
whole of the time for about £20,000, and, judiciously
managed, might have recouped its owner both capital
and expenditure and a large sum by way of profit —
and did, in fact, as I have shown, return Mr. Starkey
more than this amount in stakes. And yet we find
the turf loaded with the opprobrium of having, in
this brief time, ruined an intelligent, generous, and

CURIOUS TRAINER'S BILL. 41

wealthy young man, for I do not think he was more
than twenty-six or twenty-seven at the time of his
collapse.

We must look, therefore, to some other cause than
racing to find the source of this gentleman's un-
mitigated ruin. I may observe that in one minor
respect, and true to his character, he never handled
one shilling of his winnings. The cost of training,
stakes, and travelling — necessarily heavy, with now
and then the loss of a bet kindly put on for him by
his trainer, would just nicely balance the bill. He
was thus saved the trouble of ever having a debtor
and creditor account submitted for his inspection ;
just as his trainer, Mr. T. Parr, was saved the trouble
of making out a document so complicated and useless.
Nevertheless, it is a regrettable incident that, for the
ease of one man, an account so amusing and instructive
should have been lost to the rest of the world. The
curious items in it, extending over four years, would
doubtless have been intensely edifying — an account
which would have been set forth with methodical
order and admirable perspicuity ; yet in the algebraic
characters defining the problem, would have formed a
puzzle that would have defied any mathematician of
less ability than Colenso himself. So that, after all,
the reader, by a mystical figure of speech, ' in its great
loss will lose but little.'

The habit by which Mr. Starkey really lost himself,
was his eccentric propensity to borrow from irregular

42 JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

practitioners. Before ever he commenced racing, lie
made a lucky hit, as he himself phrased it, in the
discovery of a rich friend in the money-lending way
of business, as pleasant as he was polite, and as
generous as he was obliging, from whom he borrowed
£16,000 ; and was equally fortunate in getting rid of
the liability through the assistance of another dis-
interested member of the same gracious fraternity, as
he afterwards expressed himself to me, ' satisfactorily,
on my own terms.' These satisfactory terms were
more or less the following : The £16,000 he had
borrowed, or rather, I should say, had become liable

for, to a Mr. H . Wishing to pay him off, he

called on Mr. Padwick with a view of obtaining his
assistance in doing so. With the instinct of his craft,
the latter soon discovered that, in actual cash, Mr.
Starkey had received but little ; and at once offered

Mr. H his cheque for £12,000 for the bills

representing Mr. Starkey's debt. With the usual
preliminary story that ' he had had to borrow the
cash from an unconscionable old rip at a high rate of
interest, and would lose money by the transaction if
he took off a farthing,' and with well-feigned reluctance
to the last, the offer was accepted and the matter
ended. Well may Mr. Starkey have exclaimed that
' Mr. Padwick was his friend, for he had saved him
£4,000,' for apparently and actually he had done
so ; and well may his generous feelings have been
awakened, as shown in what followed.

HOW A DEBT WAS CREATED. 43

' Now,' said Mr. Padwick, ' what am I to have for
my services % I leave it entirely to you to say what
I am entitled to.'

' Ten thousand pounds,' was Starkey's laconic reply,
without any reference to a ready-reckoner to assist
him in the computation.

And so the matter was settled. It may appear a
large sum for such services ; but we must not forget
that Mr. Padwick had actually saved him nearly half
of it, besides paying the amount which Mr. Starkey
would assuredly have had to provide. Of the truth
of the above there cannot be any reasonable doubt.
I have had the facts as set forth substantially repre-
sented to me in good faith by each party at different
times, with seeming satisfaction to both.

Mr. Starkey once paid me a visit and stopped the
night at my house ; on which occasion he informed
me that he wished to raise a little money, and asked
my advice as to the best way of doing it. I recom-
mended him to go to my bank (the Wilts and Dorset,
head office, Salisbury), where I told him he would
find an agreeable manager who knew how to take
care of himself, and I did not doubt would be equally
solicitous for his welfare. There I said I believed he
could, by lodging his deeds, get anything he wanted
at 5 per cent. Mr. Starkey thought the plan a good
one, and said he would act upon it. But the next
morning he fancied he would rather have it of Mr.
Padwick — or, as he called him, ' Old Paddy ' — than of

44 JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

any banker. It did not occur to me at the time that
the deeds were probably deposited with that excellent
personage for the loan of £22,000, representing an
actual payment of £12,000 before mentioned.

Another method by which Mr. Starkey added to
his liabilities was the ingenious plan by which he
increased his stud — a plan entirely of his own con-
ception, dispensing with cash and represented by a
deferred payment with his autograph attached. He
would generally get this document done through one
of his friends, by the simple process of handing it on
to three well-known West End money-lending firms.
In the end he had to apply to his friend Mr. Padwick
for a loan ; when the following colloquy took place :

' I want £10,000, Padwick.'

' What for 1 Racing, I suppose V

' Yes.'

' You can have it if you will take ray stud. I am
tired of it, and have too much business to be able to
attend to it.'

A seemingly moderate price for the little stud was
named, and at once agreed to ; and the £10,000 ad-
vanced. With this advance added to the sum already
due, interest and other accumulations and the horses
thrown in, the debt may now be set down at about
£50,000. The little stud consisted of Drogheda, a
blind stallion, half a dozen brood-mares, a like number
of horses in training, including Theodora (after she
was useless as a racehorse, of course). The new owner

THE REAL OWNER OF SPYE PARK. 45

was singularly unfortunate with them. I think the
whole were a failure ; but this, of course, no one could
help, not even the generous seller.

From what Mr. Starkey himself told me. I should
think that from first to last he never received from
those friends who so generously helped him in every
time of need, much, if anything, above £50,000 in
cash and £5,000 in horseflesh — a statement borne oat
by what his chief creditor himself has told me. And
yet for this trivial sum his ancestral estate of Spye
Park passed from the hands of this misguided man to
those of his trusted friend Mr. Padwick, who, on the
same authority I hear, ultimately sold it for £275,000,
leaving its owner without sufficient means to pay his
debts, beside a small annuity previously secured for
his widow and children. I believe that at one time
£300,000 was offered and refused for the estate. The
offer, I am perhaps correct in saying, was made on
behalf of the Prince of Wales before the purchase of
Sandringham was decided upon. At the time its
owner proudly said, ' He would never go out of it till
he was carried to the churchyard.' But he thought
better of this, or Mr. Padwick did so for him ; for it
was the latter who made the bargain for the sale of
the property. For a long time before that event, the
legend —

' Henry Padwick, Esq.,
' Spye Park,

' Wilts/

46 JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

might have been seen blazoned in a defiant, bold
hand, on all the carts, waggons, etc., on the estate ;
and every head of cattle, horses, sheep, or swine, had
been transferred into the same gentleman's name.
Curiously he, Mr. Starkey, seemed rather proud of
this. I know when I was visiting him for some
shooting, he pointed the name out to me with an air
of great satisfaction, saying :

' There, they will be safe now.'

1 Yes,' thought I, ' safe surely enough ; but safe
for some one else, not you.'

This brief history of his career will justify what I
have said concerning the greater injury done to the
repute of the turf by men of his weak type, than by
even the most designing scoundrels. Mr. Starkey
kept few servants, neither hunters nor carriage-
horses, and saw no company, and yet contrived to get
rid of a princely fortune. I am satisfied myself that
he would as readily have got rid of it over half-a-dozen
cows, or some sheep and pigs, or even a dog, as over
horses and racing, if he had only the coveted assist-
ance of his money-lending friends. No ; he did more
harm to the turf by his ill example than racing ever
did to him. The moralist tells us that ' Every man,
in whatever station, has, or endeavours to have, his
followers, admirers, and imitators, and has therefore
the influence of his example to watch with care.'
But what example did Mr. Starkey set % or who shall
say how many were led astray by following in the

BOUND TO RUIN. 47

path in which he foreran ? Men such as he, and
Forbes Bentley, and Wyndham of Fellbrigg Hall,
and, in olden times, Mytton, who ' set his shirt-tails
on fire to drive away the hiccups,' did more injury to
racing than all the sharp practitioners of a degraded
type. The late Lord Maidstone is another instance.
A few years ago he fell into the hands of equally
obliging friends, who gave him, in exchange for bills
for £2,000, a box of cigars of the full value of a
five-pound note, quality and condition unguaranteed.
Gentlemen at least should be a little more discreet in
their public deportment for the good of those socially
beneath them, and as a tribute of respect to their
equals. Mr. Starkey, early doomed to the fate of an
unsuspecting and foolish man, lived only to feed the
rapacity of sharks ; and in the end had to leave his
wife and family to the tender mercies of a rude
and suspicious world, whilst, hopelessly ruined and
despondent, he himself sought refuge in a distant
land.

I think I have said enough to show that men can
lose fortunes without keeping a large string of horses,
without betting, without the infatuation of gaming,
and, in other respects, without expensive habits — a
mystery only to be accounted for by the possession
of an innate stupidity akin to madness. And I
hope sufficient has been said to deter the rising
generation from following in footsteps that surely
lead to ruin. If money be wanted for reasonable

48 JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

pleasures, let the would-be borrower go to his own or
some other banker. Never mind how unpleasant it
may be to hear a homily from a crotchety old fellow
on the value of money, and the certain ruin attending
dissipation ; but pocket the affront with the money,
and make the latter last as long as it will, rather than
risk being in the power of those who live for nothing
beyond adding to their miserable store by the destruc-
tion of their fellow-beings.

But I must have done with moralizing. My readers
will be better pleased if I can give them a few personal
reminiscences of a remarkable, if unwise, character.
His very dress ' proclaimed the man.' It was scarcely
neat enough to deserve the epithet of ' horsey,' if it
aspired to that description. Imagine a drab-coloured
frock-coat of coarse fabric, a very long waistcoat,
breeches and gaiters of the same material, or long
black boots with hunting-spurs, the whole shadowed
by a billycock hat in excellent keeping to dwarf his
diminutive figure, which was nearly as broad as long.
Apparelled thus like a groom, he always for com-
panionship carried a large hunting-whip with a big
lash. For economy's sake he travelled to the different
places he wished to visit on a black cob, something
like an ancient pack-horse, as he took his wardrobe
with him, not a very extensive or valuable affair, in
saddle-bags fastened across the saddle, making with
his own weight some sixteen stone — a burden not
inconsiderable, if insufficient to bring him under

ATTENDING A TOILET. 49

Martin's Act for preventing cruelty to dumb animals.
His friends must at times have been startled by his
appearance, when they would see him ride up to their
front-door ; for their first idea would be that some
ill-mannered groom with a note from his master had
forgotten that it should be delivered at the back or
side entrance. A nearer view would, however, show
them who was their eccentric visitor.

Mr. Starkey both bought and bred horses, but
raced them with no particular amount of luck. He
had as many trainers as he had horses, about six of
one and half a dozen of the other, and mostly raced
them in the trainers' names. I don't think he ever
fished or shot except on very rare occasions, and his
hunting was of the same limited character. His
delight was to see his horses run, and specially to
attend to their toilet beforehand. He generally, by
some strange confusion of ideas, managed to get the
smallest boy to ride the very heaviest weight, or vice
versd ; and for about two hours before the appointed
time for starting, he might have been seen in a profuse
state of perspiration excitedly in search of the largest
saddle and the greatest number of heavy saddle-cloths
to enable the lad to draw the weight. This done, he
immediately commenced hunting for the horse ; and
for fear of losing any of the innumerable saddle-
cloths, or lest in a moment of abstraction he should
mistake another for the right saddle, he would
carry the whole of the things with him. The animal

4

5o JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

was seldom found until the last minute, and lie him-
self out of breath and nearly dead with exhaustion.
In the consequent haste his horse was generally
saddled and despatched on the chance of its reaching
the starting-point in time to take part in the race,
with the greater chance of losing half the saddle-
cloths, or the jockey, before facing the starter.

I was on one or two occasions mixed up with the
transactions between Mr. Starkey and his amiable
friends, the money-lenders ; never, I need scarcely
say, to my own benefit, but merely to assist a friend.
My last assistance to him of this kind proved disas-
trous to myself. Some twelve months before he
finally left England, ruined and despondent, I gave
him my name to an acceptance for £300. As might
have been expected, it was not paid, but had to be
renewed, the old bill being cancelled and forwarded to
me and destroyed. It was subsequently renewed
several times ; but unfortunately the last bill was not
given up at the time of renewal, I being satisfied with
Mr. Starkey's assurance, over and over again, that it
should be forthcoming. The circumstance was for-
gotten, until it was brought to my memory in the
following unpleasant way : On the first day of Stock-
bridge Eaces, a polite, suasive, and half-gentlemanly-
looking, bald-headed little man in sober attire, ' tidy
and respectable ' — such as are generally engaged to
look after property that belongs to other people,
having none of their own — came to me and said:

A ' TID Y ' PR A C TITIONER . 5 1

' Mr. William Day, I think V

On being informed that he had made a good guess
— that I was in reality the very person, and that I
wished to know the nature of the business he had with
me, if any, he said :

' I am the holder of a bill of yours for £300, over-
due.'

I was annoyed, and replied plainly :

' If you hold such a document it is a forgery, for I
have but one bill out in the world, and that is one to
Mr. J. B. Starkey for £300, which is not due.'

To this he immediately replied :

' There are two ; come to my office and I will show
both of them to you. '

' If you have a second one,' I answered, ' it must
be an old bill that has been already paid.'

' No,' he said ; ' there are two, and I have advanced
the money on both.'

This I knew to be an untruth, contradicted as it
afterwards was by Mr. Starkey himself. He (Mr.
Starkey) assured me over and over again he would
see his 'tidy' little friend, who would immediately
give up the old one, which should be forwarded to me.
On this understanding, unfortunately, I allowed the
matter to drift, till I had a writ. Starkey then came
and implored me to take no notice of it, assuring me
that the bill should be paid, and that the old and new
bills should be given up together. I foolishly trusted
to his word, allowing the thing to remain open until

4—2

52 JOHN BAYNTON STARKEY, ESQ.

judgment was signed ; and as it was then inconvenient
for me to find £600, and as Mr. Starkey could not or
would not pay the money, I had, in order to save un-
pleasant consequences always best avoided, to make
terms with the kind-hearted West-End scrivener;
which ended in my having to pay him £725 — the
odd £125 for expenses and interest, for a few weeks'
delay, notwithstanding that I never directly or in-
directly benefited one shilling by the transaction.
And I need not say I never had any redress ; for
Mr. Starkey decamped, and left me to fight the battle
single-handed, as best I could.

Mr. Starkey was born in 1834, he sailed for
Australia in 1870, and died at Singleton, New South
Wales, in September, 1872. On his attaining his
majority he is supposed to have come into but little
ready-money, certainly some. The estate, however,
was entirely unencumbered. His stud was sold by
Messrs. Tattersall (at Spye Park) in 1863, and the
next year the estate followed it. The Deny Hill and
Brougham portions brought £175,000 together, the
former being bought by the then Lord Lansdowne
and Mr. Golding, and the latter passing into the
hands of the Crown. And I believe Major Spicer
gave £100,000 for Spye Park and the remainder of
the property, making the total, as I have said,
£275,000.

CHAPTER IV.

ME. JOHN GULLY.

Connection with 'The Danebury Confederacy' — Origin — Thrashes
a bully — Introduction to the Ring — Fights Pierce and Gregson
— Owen Swift's trial — Personal appearance — Joint ownership
of Andover, Mendicant, and Pyrrhus the First — ' Old John Day's
bitter pill ' — The true story ; my father's real interest in these
— Mr. E. Tattersall and the purchase of Fortress for Lord
Caledon — The model auctioneer — Gully's assault on Mr. Eidsdale
— A ' view-holloa ' by the Bar — Duel with ' The Squire ' —
Interference between my father and brother ; disruption of the
Danebury stud — Harry Hill turned out of "VVhitewall —
Danebury to-day — Gully and Hill's connection in racing —
Silent wisdom — The bull and the red-coat — Policemen treated
as nine-pins — His end.

Truthfully it is said by an anonymous writer of the
last century that 'If it be more grateful to an in-
genuous mind to celebrate the praises of humanity, it
is no less necessary to expose the vices that deform it.
In enumerating the excellences of men, we present a
model to imitate ; in detecting their depravity, we
hold out an example to deter. In either case the
attempt is equally useful and commendable. To hold
the mirror up to nature, to show vice its own image, is

54 MR. JOHN GULLY

one part of the design ; the other, that in doing so it
may tempt some and restrain others following in the
wake of such pernicious examples.'

The men, some incidents of whose career I shall now
set forth, are examples useful in the foregoing sense, as
those whose practices should be rather shunned than
followed. Messrs. Gully, Hill, Pedley, Arnold and
Turner were known at one time as ' The Danebury
Confederacy.' Certainly the most prominent and re-
markable of the group was Mr. John Gully, ex-prize-
fighter and erstwhile legislator. Mr. Gully was a
Gloucestershire man. He was born at the Crown
Inn, Wick, midway between Bath and Bristol —
kept by his parents. Afterwards his father became a
butcher at Bath, if Gully himself did not, for some
time, take an active part in the same business. The
first public action I can remember to have heard told
of him, was his soundly thrashing a big bully at Bristol
for unfairly setting his dog at a bull they were then
baiting. Gully, to his great surprise and delight,
afterwards heard that his defeated opponent was a
prize-fighter, the terror of the neighbourhood.

Not improbably this initial success gave him the
love for ' the Noble Art,' for shortly afterwards we
hear of his entering the gladiatorial arena ; although
in a measure he was induced to do so through the
force of circumstances. For certain liabilities incurred
and forgotten, or which could not be met, he found
himself in a debtors' prison, from which he was

FIGHTS WITH PIERCE AND GREGSON. 55

released for a special purpose, through the kindness of
the celebrated Colonel Mellish. Gully's greatest
frieud at the time was Pierce, alias 'the Game
Chicken,' a Bristol man. Pierce used to visit him in
gaol, and spar with him for hours daily. On leaving
him, after having more than an ordinary ' set-to,' he
said coolly :

' Gully, fight me. It will make your fortune. I
don't know which will win. but I think I may. Still,
it is sure to be a very close and exciting thing.'

From this very circumstance Colonel Mellish was
induced to find the money for Gully's debts, and the
match was made. The combat ended as Pierce had
predicted it would ; for after a desperate and
sanguinary fight, Gully was obliged to give in or
1 throw up the sponge,' in the elegant language of the
P. K. Gully always said he did this at the instiga-
tion of his backer, Colonel Mellish ; for at the time
he was not thoroughly beaten, though very much
punished, being covered with blood. Pierce knew
no equal, and Gully only this defeat. After this wre
find him so poor that he was compelled to start for
Doncaster on foot, but got a lift in Mr. Thos. Thorn-
hill's carriage the latter part of the journey. Subse-
quently he was taken in hand by some racing-men,
who also patronized the P. E., and he was matched
against Gregson for the belt, and fought at Six Mile
Bottom, near Newmarket, in 1807, and again in the
following year in Sir John Sebright's park in Hertford-

5 6 MR. JOHN GULLY.

shire ; on both of which occasions Gully was proclaimed
the victor, and retired from the ring and turned 'Boni-
face,' as did many others of the same lively occupa-
tion that came after him.

I can hardly see, myself, that Gully as a pugilist
was deserving of the high reputation which he en-
joyed. He only fought two men ; the one he beat,
and the other beat him. It is true he beat Gregson
twice ; but at one time the fight was a near thing,
occupying a full hour, and Gregson would not have
made another match. Dutch Sam, Tom Crib, and
many others, were much better men in their
day, to my thinking. Again, Owen Swift, if I re-
member rightly, actually killed three men, Anthony
Noon being one of them, in a fight which took place
near the Queen Charlotte public-house, close to
Andover, for which he stood his trial some time after.
But the witness for the prosecution failed to identify
him, as his face and hands were darkly stained with
the green bark of walnuts, and so got him acquitted.
It is also remarkable that few champions of the ring
lived to a peaceful end. Nat Langham, Owen Swift,
the two Brooms, John and Harry, all came to untimely
grief. The Brooms, early in life, severed their jugular
veins with a carving-knife, whilst the others drank
themselves to death, or sought shelter from starvation
in alms-houses, an infliction which Gully only escaped
by the friendly hand of death.

He had before I knew him adopted a modern style

'MENDICANT' AND 'PYRRHUS THE FIRST.' 57

of dress, and left off his kerseymere breeches and top-
boots, for trousers, frock-coat, and blue neck-tie. He
is thus described by c Druid ' in ' Post and Paddock :'
' His fame at the Corner was at its zenith about the
year 1830, when he was a betting partner with Kids-
dale. His countenance was calm, but defiant ; and
whether on horseback or on foot, his carriage was disc-
nified and manly — such as few would excel ; and he
was said to be one of the finest men that ever lived.'
Mr. Gully was a heavy backer of horses, and kept
a few in several stables ; but mostly ran them in
assumed names of mythical persons, until, when
racing at White wall and afterwards at Danebury, he
ran them in his own name. He lost a good horse

o

in The Era, when he ran in a Selling Plate at
Doncaster out of the Whitewall stable. He was only
part-owner of Andover with Mr. Pad wick, when the
horse won the Derby of 1854. Nor had he ever more
than a half-share in Mendicant and Pyrrhus the
First, which shares my father sold him when they
were yearlings, after Lord George Bentinck refused
to take the former, for whom she was originally
bought of Mr. Whitworth, of Bury, Lancashire, for
£300. After winning the Derby and Oaks in 1846,
the One Thousand Guineas, and other stakes, they
were sold, the one to Mr. Elwes, and the mare to Sir
Joseph Hawley, in whose hands, in course of time,
she became the founder of his celebrated stud, and
dam of Beadsman, the Derbv winner in 1858.

5 8 MR. JOHN GULLY.

Up to the time they were thus parted with, they
were, like Andover, trained at Danebury, and both
were, as I have said, the joint property of my father
and Mr. Gully. But just to show how history is
sometimes written, I may mention that in respect to
the ownership of these two celebrities, the following
appeared in the pages of an anonymous contemporary :
■ He, Gully, was formidable with Weatherbit and
Old England, and in 1846 won the Derby with
Pyrrhus the First, and the Oaks with Mendicant, an
exploit which has only once been accomplished before,
when Sir Charles Bunbury's Eleanor carried off both
trophies. The victory of Pyrrhus the First must
have been a bitter pill for old John Day, who had
purchased him at Doncaster as a yearling, Mr. Gully
agreeing to go halves with him. The horse never
ran as a two-year-old, and John Day, being in want
of money, valued his share of Pyrrhus at the end of
the year at £100, which Mr. Gully promptly gave
him.'

Now, whatever knowledge the writer may have
had of this matter, without the charge of egotism I
may say I am likely to know more, and may not
therefore be thought critically captious in stating
the actual facts. Pyrrhus the First was never at
Doncaster, and therefore could not have been bought
there as a yearling. Having thus disposed of the
writer's assertion as to where he was bought, by show-
ing where he was not bought, I come to answer that

'OLD JOHN DAY'S BITTER PILL.' 59

of Mr. Gully's ever having had more than a half-share
in the horse, and the possibility of his having given
my father £100 for the remaining half-share. It is
not at all unlikely that my father, like other trainers
before and after him, may have been in temporary
need of money. But no one can for a moment
suppose that he would have done anything so
fatuously absurd as to have accepted £100 for his
half-share of the horse from the ex-pugilist, when,
had he felt disposed to part with it at the time, he
could readily have got twenty times the amount by
offering it to anyone else. But I will go further and
show, in the most conclusive manner, how my father
became possessed of Pyrrhus the First, and what he
gave for him and his dam.

In 1843 he bought Old England (or, as he was
then called, The Fortress Colt) of Colonel Bouverie,
of Delapre Abbey, Northamptonshire, for £150, as a
yearling ; and liked him so much (probably having
had a taste of his merit), that, in the autumn of that
year, he went and saw the Colonel again and asked
him what he would take for the colt-foal by Epirus,
then by the side of his dam. The answer was :
' John, I will sell you the mare Fortress and foal for
£250, if you like to have them ;' and at that price
my father bought them, and they went straight to
Danebury ; which spot the colt, the future Pyrrhus the
First, never left until he was sold after winning the
Derby. So I have no need to repeat that the horse

6o MR. JOHN GULLY.

was never the sole property of Gully ; and it will be
seen that ' the bitter pill,' so genially spoken of as
having been taken by ' old John Day,' was never
administered ; but instead a sweet oblivious antidote
in the shape of his retention intact of a share in a
valuable animal. So, too, in respect to Old England,
although undoubtedly Gully was pleased to call the
horse his own, and to usurp a discreditable control
over him which he was not entitled to exercise — an
attitude of which, I believe, he lived to repent —
during the whole period of his running, my father
had a half-share in him.

It strikes me here to relate an interesting incident
in connection with the re-sale of Fortress herself.
Before leaving Danebury, on his temporary retire-
ment from business, my father sold his horses in
training, and mares and foals. The then Mr. Kichard
Tattersall, father of the late gentleman of that name,
was officiating. Before the sale, Lord Caledon wrote
to my father to say he wished he would go as far as
2,000 guineas for Fortress for him, he having offered
previously that sum for her. This he agreed to do ;
but forgot all about it till near the fall of the hammer,
before the limit was half reached ; when my father,
naturally in some haste, made one bid, and bought
her. He at once informed Mr. Tattersall that the
mare was bought for Lord Caledon. But the great
salesman was mightily annoyed.

' Sir,' he said, in a towering passion, addressing

THE MODEL AUCTIONEER. 61

himself to my father — ' sir, it is the first public lie I
have ever been made to tell !' — referring, we must
presume, to the fact that the sale was without reserve ;
and assuming, also, that my father had, in this open
fashion, put a reserve on the animal.

I could not then, I cannot now, see the justice of
this uncalled-for attack on an employer by a man in
his business capacity. The horses, advertised to be
sold without reserve, were absolutely sold as advertised.
Lord Caledon was but a public purchaser like others.
Would the imperious auctioneer demand that he must
first consult him ? Or why should Lord Caledon not
give my father, as well as anyone else, the commission
to buy for him 1 I do not say it was politic on the
part of the seller to accept the office, but it was more
injurious to him than to the purchaser ; and if it had
any other result it was advantageous to the public to
his detriment, in having a depressing effect upon the
remaining part of the sale. And that the sale suffered
through the ungenerous imputation, I do not doubt.

I may not agree with the truth of the assertion,
though it is as old as the hills, that auctioneers are
paid for saying things in the truth of which they
do not believe — thus falsely describing matters and
things entrusted to them for disposal as a matter of
duty. But I may ask, who ever heard of a piece of
furniture, old and useless, being described in any other
way than as ' this beautiful piece of antique furniture,
strong and extremely useful, which seldom falls to

62 MR. JOHN GULLY.

the lot of any auctioneer to have the honour of sub-
mitting for public competition ' ? Was there ever a
hack so old and infirm but has been said to be ' well-
seasoned and quiet ' ? And when ever was a thorough-
bred one sold, that was not pronounced by the astute
auctioneer, before the fall of the hammer, to be ' worth
double what he was going for, as many of the great
races were entirely at his mercy, and at the stud alone
he would be worth considerably more than the trifle
he was offered at ' 1 '

Gully's character was certainly blackened by one of
the gravest faults — ingratitude to those who assisted
him when he could not assist himself. This blemish
was especially glaring in the case of his friend Mr.
Ridsdale, whom he insulted and horsewhipped in the
hunting-field. The incident is thus recorded by a
contemporary :

' The success with which Gully and Mr. Ridsdale
met did not cement their friendship, and their quarrel
came at last to a climax in a personal encounter in
the hunting-field, when Gully mercilessly thrashed
his former partner, after which Mr. Ridsdale brought
an action for assault that terminated in a verdict with
£500 damages for the plaintiff — a decision which met
with so much approval from the bulk of the spectators
in the crowded court, most of them hunting-men with
whom " Bobby " was very popular, that they gave a
rattling; view holloa, in which the learned brethren
of the Bar and the eminent Judge himself were

BEHAVIOUR TO MY FATHER. 63

maliciously reported at the time to have cordially
joined.'

The same authority goes on to say : ' This was not
the only serious contretemps in which Gully was
engaged, for he and Mr. Osbaldeston had words on
one occasion. The Squire challenged Gully, had him
" out," and sent a ball through his hat. " But better
through my hat than my head/' said the ex-prize-
fighter, as he picked up his headgear and coolly
surveyed the bullet-hole, his own taking no effect. '

The ex-bruiser, I should think, would know as much
about handling a pistol as a cow would a musket ; and
in firing it would be as likely to hurt himself as his
brave, but injured, little opponent. The causes of the
quarrels he had with others I need not mention. It
must be sufficient to say that he was of a tyrannical
and overbearing disposition, extremely avaricious,
and, like men of his class, not over-scrupulously nice
in the acquirement of wealth. He knew how to
worship the rising sun. Of his quarrel with my
father I may perhaps say a word, needless though
any explanation is. He contrived to set his son John
against him, making a small rift end in an open
rupture, which would have been peacefully concluded
but for his ' blowing the coal,' aided and abetted in
this disgraceful business by his faithful ally, Harry
Hill. I must admit with sorrow, not altogether
mingled with shame, that to the machinations of this
worthy pair the downfall of once glorious Danebury

64 MR. JOHN GULLY.

must be attributed. It is but poor consolation to
know that retribution overtook them soon after the
completion of this sorry work, and brought with it
' an end of all their greatness ;' whilst on their retire-
ment from the scene of their former glory, they were
but little missed and soon forgotten altogether.

Of Harry Hill and other members of the con-
federacy, I shall have something to say later. But I
may here tell how he was the cause of much unpleasant-
ness at Whitewall, when Mr. Scott was for the time
somewhat indebted to him. It was, I believe, in
West Australian's year ; and the then Lord Derby
getting an inkling of what was going on, smartly
settled both the difficulty and the man, by giving the
latter a cheque for what was due to him, and thus
cutting adrift his connection with that formidable
stable. As for Danebury itself, like the Stockbridge
Market of old, it ' now starts from its slumber in
vigour again.' It has of late undergone a thorough
renovating, and is one of the most complete and
prettiest racing establishments in England ; and under
the guiding hand of the talented jockey, the lessee,
his friends hope it will triumphantly excel in glory
even the palmiest days of yore.

I should here observe that though Gully had many
horses of his own, as also had Hill, which were
worked independently, the two were confederates,
and may be said on the whole to have been successful
(I am speaking of the time since I knew them).

THE BULL AND THE RED COAT. 65

Amongst those they owned jointly were, I think,
Pitsford, Cymba, Hermit by Bay Middleton, Little
Harry, Trumpeter, and other serviceable horses,
which would have made fortunes for moderate men.
But they were insatiable, and felt poor from not
having more, and took the doubtful methods to
increase their store to which I must presently refer.
I must not omit to say of Gully, before concluding my
notice of him, that he was by no means popular with
those who knew him best on the turf; and though
not a bad judge of a horse, was often ' reputed wise
for saying nothing.' For he would muse for hours
over his bia: cigar without uttering a word, and
was as reticent in all his affairs as he was in ' the
House ' when an honourable member. The barrels of
beer that he had placed in the streets of Wakefield
did more towards securing him a seat in Parliament
than his powerful oratory in appealing to the good
sense and honourable feelings of the independent
Liberal electors.

In private life he was reputed to have been a
moderate liver. He was specially fond of carving his
own joints, a habit doubtless acquired in early life
when he was in the purveying business. He hunted,
and this amusement on one occasion nearly cost him
his life. Before changing his dress for dinner he went
to one of the sheds to look at some beasts he had ' up
feeding.' One of them, disliking, I suppose, the colour
of his red coat, turned on him, and but for the timely

5

66 MR. JOHN GULLY.

assistance of the herdsman, the attack would have
proved fatal. He never struck a man with his fist
after leaving the P. K. ; but once with his elbow
pushed half a dozen policemen who were standing in
a row, down like so many nine-pins. For what reason
he did this extraordinary feat is not recorded, nor
what was the consequence of his interference with
a body of intelligent and active officers whilst on
duty. But we may, perhaps, assume that, with their
accustomed indulgence to a public character, they let
him off, rather than run him in.

Gully was twice married, and had a large family ;
thousfh I believe but one or two sons survive him.

o

He died at a good old age, about eighty, after losing
most of his money and parting with Ackworth Park
to his dear and generous friend Hill. He was buried
in ground consecrated for the purpose near the house,
his last dying request to Hill being to see this done,
that he might not be laid by the side of his wife.
For being a Unitarian he was not fond of the Eoman
Catholics, a religion which, when living, she pro-
fessed.

CHAPTER V.

'the danebury confederacy.'

Commissioners and their instructors— How Gully and Hill made
fortunes — Laying against 'dead uns ' — Gulling the public-
Universal temptation — A view of turf parasites in 1832 ;
Richardson, Bland, and others.

Harry Hill ; origin—' A thimble and a pea ' — Lord George's
contempt — Exposed by Mr. Rayner — Disadvantages of lying
— Hill's dress and diversions ; loses £20,000 — Frank Butler
'carpeted' — Caught on the Stock Exchange — 'An economic
principle ' — Intestacy and disappearance of his money.

Mr. Pedley as a bookmaker and songster — Wins the Derby
with Cossack — Subsequent poverty — An incident at Chester races
— Joshua Arnold — Saucebox sold below his value — Mr. Turner,
another of the clique — The moral, and a plea for it.

In my reference to the ' Danebury Confederates,' in
the last chapter, I observed that Messrs. Gully and
Hill were not satisfied with the large legitimate re-
ceipts of their joint ownership of racehorses. Without
receivers there would be no thieves, we know, or at
least are assured. This trite proverb has doubtless
much truth. But more assuredly, I may affirm, there
would be no dishonest racing ' commissioners ' did
not men moving in a social circle above these their

5—2

63 'THE DANEBURY CONFEDERACY:

poor tools, dishonestly instruct them. Men calling
themselves gentlemen were found as unscrupulous in
days gone by as any that exist to-day ; and probably
will be so found until the end of time. I, at all
events, see no power that may be counted upon to
crush out of life this regrettable feature in racing
matters. It is an evil not easily detected, although
well known to exist ; and too powerful, I fear, to be
grappled with at present.

As a matter of fact, we may be content to know
that Messrs. Gully and Hill did not amass the enormous
sums which they at one time put together, by the
innocent process of backing their own horses, or even
by laying against them in the rare instances in which
such a course is justifiable. Yet this always doubtful
practice cannot, in any sense, be considered other than
dishonest in the case in which laying commissions
are accepted. For the agents, who receive them, know
that the horses so laid against will not run ; and,
indeed, it is their own interest to see that they do not.
Thus the backers have no chance of winning, which
makes the transaction as dishonest, according to the
rules of racing, as it must be odious in the sight of
every man of principle.

As for the practices of Messrs. Gully, Hill and Co.,
we may learn something from what appeared recently
in the columns of the Sporting World. The writer
says : ' In fact, it was out of the " dead uns," which
used to be the chief source of profit to the operator in

LAYING AGAINST 'DEAD UNS.' 69

the days prior to the telegraph and training reports,
that Fred Swindell, like Harry Hill and others, derived
the bulk of his lame fortune.'

CD

And well may the result named have been attained.
For with Hill offering to lay, and Gully to back, and
Joshua Arnold willing to do either or both — all being
confederates — the public was completely mystified by
the adroit art of these professors, and could not pos-
sibly know what would be the course which, in their
own interest, it would be best to pursue. So far, per-
haps, there was nothing illegitimate in such action.
But we must remember that many of those employed,
partly from innate dishonesty, and partly from the
example set them by their employers, become worse
than their instructors ; and not content with laying
against ' dead uns,' took to laying on their own
account against the horses they had undertaken to
back for their owners. Moreover, to carry the system
to success, it became necessary to bring into requisi-
tion the services of stable-boys, jockeys, and others.
And their aid was secured in a manner to defy detec-
tion. What evil motives have not been, as the result
of these nefarious practices, rightly or wrongly im-
puted to well-known jockeys, who, in consequence,
have suffered the severest penalties ? Or it may be
again asked, how many disreputable ' commissioners '
have not made their fortunes out of these dishonest
manoeuvres at the expense of their confiding patrons %

To Messrs. Gully, Hill, and their confederates may

7o 'THE DANEBURY CONFEDERACY:

be attributed, if not the initiation, at least the
perfecting of this pernicious system. As to the state
of the turf at the time, and the manners of these its
parasites, let us hear what ' Sylvanus Urban ' has to
say, writing of the scene presented at Doncaster in
1832 :

' We remember the scene in the betting-rooms at
Doncaster in Margrave's year, when old Frank
Eichardson, the blacksmith, a noted turfite, a man
who once confessed to a friend that nothing but
sobriety had kept him from being hanged, was tabled
in the room with the Bonds. The Bonds had a horse
in the St. Leger called Ludlow, and caused such a
scene in the room at Doncaster as will not be readily
forgotten by those who took part in it. These men
were tabled, with old Beardsworth of Birmingham —
formerly driver of a hackney-coach, but then keeper
of livery stables — Frank Eichardson, just named, and
a man called Wagstaff, an audacious fellow, whose
teeth literally fitted into each other, like two cross-cut
saws set together as a shark's ; and surely such a lot,
though magnates of the ring and turf, taking all in
all, were never brought before the public even at a
race-meeting. This was on the eve of the St. Leger,
when the din made by the Margrave clique, the Lud-
low tribe, and the Scott division, all yelling and blas-
pheming in concert, or rather discord, might, nay were,
heard in the theatre, though the building is situated
many streets distant from the boiling pandemonium.

TURF PARASITES IN 1832. 71

' It was said the old Duke of Cleveland partly
pulled the wires to this sweet tableau vivant. And
to see his white sardonic countenance, and Gully's
threatening, overcharged brow, with Crockey's satanic
smile and working jaw, surrounding the table, as the
party explained, was to view a picture worthy the
pencil of Eembrandt. Old Ord, of Beeswing notoriety,
also mounted the table, being howling drunk, as usual,
and unshaved for a fortnight, and denounced the
whole gang as a crew of robbers and miscreants, for
whom the gallows would be too good ; at which the
room only applauded ironically or groaned approval.
Then old Jemmv Bland, an atrocious "leg" of the ancient
top-booted, semi-highwayman school, and old Crockey
got set by the ears like two worn-out mastiffs, and
had a few words through their false teeth. The
quasi fishmonger, paddling his arms in his peculiar
way, brought some of his early Billingsgate to bear,
and floored old Jemmy, after a few rounds, with
some withering slang and not-to-be parried innuendo,
though the opponents made a fight of it to the last.'

If we are to judge of a man from the company he
keeps, I don't think that Mr. Gully would stand very
high in the esteem of his countrymen in the present
day, if there be any truth in what I have transcribed.
Nor would his doubtful reputation be enhanced by
the fact of his close connection with the renowned
Harry Hill, of whose personality and doings I may
now say something.

72 'THE DANEBURY CONFEDERACY:

Like Messrs. Padwick and Gully, Hill kept many
horses at other places than Danebury ; but how
many in number, or what they were, it was difficult
to ascertain. Tradition speaks of his origin as being
a boots at a public-house. It runs thus : ' Mr. Henry
Unwell, a racing star of the first magnitude, notwith-
standing he was erewhile an under-boots at an hotel
in Manchester, and made his way up to town on foot,
carrying his furniture — then but a small table and
thimble, with a few peas — on his person.'

The same authority goes on to say that Lord
George Bentinck would sooner himself keep on his
feet in his own apartments for half a day, than let a
fellow like Hill sit down in his presence. From this
circumstance we may infer that Hill, like Gully, used
to bet for his lordship, and I presume for or against
his own horses. However, he soon made money, and
was allowed to associate with men quite as particular
in the selection of their* company as was Lord George
himself ; though it is not unlikely that, in many cases,
the association in this way was more from necessity
than choice.

On one occasion Harry Hill was fairly caught and
publicly shown up. A Mr. Eayner, of histrionic fame,
was, like many men, fond of dabbling in the seductive
game of betting, and usually entrusted his commission
to Hill, whom he was foolish enough to look upon as
' his friend.' Meeting at the rooms at Newmarket,
where bettors most do congregate, Mr. Eayner asked

HARRY HILL BROUGHT TO BOOK. 73

Hill to put him a pony on a certain horse, which the
latter agreed to do. The horse won ; and the next
day Hill was asked for the money, according to
custom, at the White Hart, opposite the rooms, in the
presence of a motley group.

' I did not put it on,' was the reply, ' and forgot to
declare so before the race.'

The excuse was too lame to be admitted for a
moment ; and, in an intolerable if natural rage, Mr.
Rayner denounced him in no measured terms as a
scoundrel, and the very prince of the low profession
he so ably represented. Hill made no reply. He
stood mute and motionless, his countenance blanched
with fear. He felt the accusation keenly, although it
is likely it was not the first occasion on which his
word had been questioned.

' The wretch that often has deceived,
Though truth he speak, is ne'er believed.'

I do not introduce the couplet with any intention to
suggest that Hill was likely to be speaking the truth ;
but merely to show that, owing to his antecedents, he
would not have been believed if he had done so. The
truth of this incident is undoubted. T had it from a
gentleman still living, who witnessed the scene and
heard every word that passed. This, with other
things, will give a pretty clear notion of what Mr.
Hill's character was even in his business transactions,
in which it behoves men the most dishonest to be
circumspect and correct in their dealings with their

74 'THE DANEBURY CONFEDERACY.'

customers, or they would soon have none to deal
with.

From betting, and his other curious transactions on
the turf, Harry Hill soon amassed a princely fortune,
the whole of which, miser-like as he was, he did not
retain to the end. He was always to be seen in the
evening at the Coach and Horses, Dover Street,
Piccadilly, not in the most select company. He was
slovenly in his dress, wearing a faded black suit that
appeared to have been made for his grandfather, so ill
it fitted him. He was not particular as to cleanliness,
and his hard features were too surely an index of the
working of his mind. His conversation was licentious
and vulgar ; though I do not doubt that he himself
may have esteemed his vile wit the essence of clever-
ness. ' Indebted to his memory for his wit, and to
his imagination for his facts,' he would crack his sides
with laughter at his own personal and ill-timed gibes,
not being ashamed to utter what others would blush
to hear.

' Fate never wounds more deep the gen'rous heart
Than when a blockhead insult points the dart.'

In spite of lack of education and a dense ignorance
of most things, he had common-sense in the knowledge
of how to look after his money. Yet, like others
more deserving, he had his reverses. His heaviest
loss was in the St. Leger, in West Australians year,
when Frank Butler was carpeted before Colonel
Anson and Mr. Bowes, and told his fate if he did

CAUGHT ON THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 75

not win. This summary and very needful pro-
cedure naturally upset the plans of Hill and his col-
leagues, by which, in the method described, they had
made sure of benefiting themselves at the expense of
the unwary. Hill at once changed his tactics, hedging
all he could, which was but little, it not being easy then
to find anyone that would lay. This incident led to his
expulsion from the Whitewall stable, as I have before
related, and to his losing £20,000 on the race. Once,
on the Stock Exchange, like Mr. Padwick, he thought
he knew something — in fact, more than those accus-
tomed to the speculative amusement of dealing in
scrip — but found, after losing £40,000 in one year,
that however clever he was, he was now matched with
others who knew more, and was never afterwards
seen in the vicinity of Capel Court.

He lived some years in retirement after the death
of his friend Gully. He would be seen occasionally
at the Hampton Court sale of yearlings, indulging, to
the last, his rude familiarities both in the sale-ring
and at the luncheon-table. For Hill, like Diogenes,
was fond of drinking the wines that cost him nothing,
and feasting on the same economic principle. But
when it came to touching his own pocket, it may
truly be said he lived in affluence without enjoying
its comforts. The last time I saw him was at Mr.
Rice's Medical Hall, Piccadilly, nearly blind, and as
full of complaints and trouble as ever. He left no will ;
at least, none was ever proved, having, it is surmised,

76 'THE DANEBURY CONFEDERACY:

but little to leave, much to the surprise of those who
knew the immense wealth he once possessed — Ack-
worth Park being the only property left by him at the
time of his death. The disappearance of his ready-
money may be variously accounted for. Probably
the number of his lady favourites may have had
something to do with the economic disposal of it ;
for that in such transactions they would be the
greatest gainers few people will dispute. It is also
said that, in order to save Succession Duty, he dis-
posed of the remainder of his property to his son
by deed of gift in his expiring moments, thus showing
that the ruling passion — love of money — like his
intellect, was strong in death.

Mr. Pedley, another of the confederacy, was a
North-countryman, hailing from Huddersfield, and
also rose from the ranks. He commenced betting,
like all the rest of his class, with the smallest possible
capital, and soon reached the coveted dignity of a
professional. He was in his calling reputable, and
made a large book. He was well known from his
ungainly figure and stentorian voice. He could be
heard shouting all over the ring, ' I'll lay against the
favourite : two monkeys to one against anything !' in a
thundering tone. Yet his voice was a musical one,
and he was fond of singing. Of the possession of the
gift, some proof has reached us in an account of a
party given by Gully at Newmarket. ' Pedley,' so it
runs, ' in due course roared out like old Boreas, sub-

AN INCIDENT AT CHESTER RACES. 77

clued to a baritone, " The Cats on the Housetops are
Mewing, Love." Gully lighted a cigar, Bill Scott a
clay, the latter remarking that if Pedley was not
audible at Cambridge it was not for want of bellows,
and that he was a real stunner at a chorus.'

With the acute sagacity of all his class, Pedley was
never known to lay more than the proper odds, except
in the case of ' sickness.' Then he would be a little
more liberal in his terms ; sometimes, indeed, even to
rashness in desperate cases. He had several horses,
which he trained at Danebury, and won the Derby with
Cossack in 1847. The victory appears to have done
him but a temporary service, as he came to grief
shortly afterwards. I learned he was poor quite
accidentally. I saw him at Chester in Our Mary
Ann's year, 1870, and he asked me what I would
advise him to back. I told him to have £100 on her,
as I thought she would win, and was worth the in-
vestment. With mournful significance he replied, ' I
wish I could ;' and added, ' Things now with me are
very different from what they used to be.' After the
race he came and heartily thanked me. He had won
£500, which he took to a pony, as he could afford to
stand to lose no more, and it had saved him. This was
the last time I ever saw him. He married one of Mr.
Gully's daughters, and so became a member of the
Danebury Kacing Confederacy ; and died shortly after
the event I have just related, in anything but
flourishing circumstances. I may mention that

78 'THE DANEBURY CONFEDERACY:

amongst his creditors was Mr. Fred Swindell, for
£300, money lent. The amount was taken out in
wines, which had the reputation of being of rare
vintages, and very choice ; and probably truly so, if
they were taken by Mr. Swindell for his own con-
sumption, for that gentleman was not only a good
judge of wine, but drank the best always, cost what
it would.

Joshua Arnold was another of the group, of whom
little need be said, as his light was soon obscured by
the dazzling effulgence of the master-spirits. He was
by occupation a bookmaker and commissioner, in
which capacity he worked for and with Gully and
Hill ; and, like his masters, trained horses at Dane-
bury. The best horse he ever owned was Saucebox,
which, after his death, Harry Hill, with his usual
kindness, took possession of ; but, in ignorance of his
merits, disposed of this really good horse to Mr. T.
Parr. In the following year he won the St. Leger,
and many other good races. From some cause or other
Arnold became deranged in his intellect, and was
placed under restraint, and died soon afterwards in an
asylum.

Mr. Turner was another of these so-called Danebury
patrons, of whom I confess I know but little. He
was, I believe, a bill-discounter of an eminent West-
End type, and kept a few horses, more, as may be
guessed, for the sake of the company he might meet
in racing, than for what he might win by means of the

THE MORAL, AND A PLEA FOR IT. 79

animals themselves. I think few, if any, of his horses
ran in his own name. I am therefore unable to
describe or even name them. But if any did, I am
afraid their achievements were not great, or I should
probably have seen or heard something of them.

In this chapter I have described but a few of the
many doughty acts in which the renowned Danebury
confederacy played so conspicuous and unenviable a
part. I do not for a moment profess to vouch for the
accuracy of every statement. Yet so far as I can
judge, the facts set forth may be relied upon as being
substantially correct. Many of them are given from
my own personal knowledge, and in so far are literally
correct, as I have endeavoured to set them forth with
candour, and without partiality, to the best of my recol-
lection. If in their narration I have felt bound to ex-
press myself in no measured terms, it is, I must trust
to the reader to believe, rather from a conviction that
deeds of the kind exercise a most baneful influence
on our national sport, than from any desire to be
arbitrarily critical. My motive, and the risk I run in
carrying it out, have before been expressed in better
words than any I can pretend to give :

' E'en I must raise my voice, e'en I must feel
Such scenes, such men, destroy the public weal ;
Although some kind, censorious friend will say,
" What art thou better, meddling fool, than they V
And every brother rake will smile to see
That miracle, a moralist, in me.'

CHAPTER VI.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

My knowledge of his lordship — Purchase of Bay Middhton —
Lameness cured by my brother — Failure at the stud — A York-
shire view of him — His produce — Lease of Venison, and attempt
to get him back — Not a lucky breeder — Early races and successes
— Performances of Crucifix — Change of luck on leaving Danebury
— Amount of his winnings — Race between Grey Momus and
Bamboo — The running confirmed — Lord Suffield's disappoint-
ment— A rival jockey bids me win — Bay Middleton's Derby —
Lavish entry of yearlings — Crucifix trial — Her breakdown —
The secret kept — Tripoli in the Feather Plate ; action of the
Jockey Club — Horses run unprepared, proved by in-and-out
running — Gaper and Miss Elis — Castration of Naworth — A com-
parison.

Of the Hon. William George Frederick Cavendish
Bentinck, commonly called and familiarly known as
Lord George Bentinck, so much has been written by
abler hands than mine, that I feel diffident in at-
tempting to add more to the existing records of his
life. Yet I feel I may be able to contribute some-
thing of interest to the better knowledge of one of
the most conspicuous characters that ever graced the

FALLACY OF POPULAR OPINION. Si

turf. It is far from my intention to attempt to dis-
prove anything that has been written concerning
himself, his actions, his honour, or his honesty. I
may find it needful and serviceable to correct certain
errors of fact, such as that into which Admiral Rous
fell concerning the weight carried by Tripoli for the
Feather Plate at Newmarket. But I may be allowed
to say that not a little has appeared on the subject of
the doings of this nobleman, which, far from being
literally true, would bear a very different significance
if the circumstances connected with them were
thoroughly understood.

I may say, at the outset, that I do not intend for a
moment to expatiate in exaggerated terms on the
matter, or to paint the facts in any other than their
true colours. If it be my fate in what I have to tell
to run counter to the preconceived notions of the
attributes of this patrician, I must say in excuse that
a glowing eulogy on all that he did or said would be,
in the present day, an outrage to common-sense. But
just as Johnson tells us that 'no man can teach others
anything of which he himself is ignorant,' I hold I
shall not be trespassing beyond common fairness if I
write of the man only such things as, in my opinion,
may serviceably instruct or interest a later generation ;
whilst beino- careful to advance nothing as an ascer-
tained fact for which I have not the voucher of either
personal experience or unassailable authority ; remem-
bering, too, I hope, that lesson which tells us :

6

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

' Nor in the critic let the man be lost.
Good nature and good sense must ever join ;
To err is human, to forgive divine.'

My first recollection of racing and racing men dates
back from 1836, when Bay Middleton won the Derby,
and was soon afterwards transferred from Newmarket
to Danebury, Lord Jersey having sold him, after his
racing career, to Lord George Bentinck for £4,000,
then considered an enormous sum for a stallion. This
event will serve as a fit introduction of the latter's
connection with the Danebury stable. On the horse's
arrival he was found to be lame, but as nothing could
be seen to account for it, the lameness was attributed
to rheumatism. He was consequently once more put
to work, which soon betrayed the seat of the injury.
Bay Middleton had very high action when galloping
slow, and it was discovered that he continually struck
the inside of his off-knee with his near fore- foot. It
may be remembered that Lecturer did much the same
in later years, and had to be run in tips, or half-shoes,
which prevented or minimized the self-inflicted injury.
The discovery was made by my brother John, who
effected a cure by letting the horse wear a peculiarly
constructed boot. On hearing of this, Lord George,
in writing to my father, said : ' For his skill in de-
tecting the injury lie [John] ought to have a crown of
erold as a fittino; tribute for such eminent services.'
But how did he show his gratitude ? By, within a
very short space of time, persecuting him with the

'BAY middleton: 83

most bitter malignity, until his lordship left Dane-
bury, and even after !

At the stud Bay Middleton was a gigantic failure.
I remember that when the man who came to Dane-
bury to take him to Doncaster, where most of his
lordship's mares were kept — ' a tyke,' I need not say
— saw him, he remarked derisively :

' If he was not Bay Middleton, he would have to
beg his bread in Yorkshire.'

I cannot call to mind so good a horse with such

o

running blood in his veins, so bad a sire. He was
the largest thoroughbred I ever saw, very tall, nearly
seventeen hands high, with a bad middle, being as
shallow in his fore-ribs as he was light in his back, and
stood wretchedly bad on his fore-legs — upright as a
walking-stick — and light below the knee. He had
forty to fifty of the best mares put to him for many
years, and, if I remember right, got very few good
ones for his lordship himself. Of his produce, Flying
Dutchman, the winner of the Derby and St. Leger,
was Lord Eglinton's ; and Andover, also a Derby
winner, was bred by Mr. William Etwall, of Long-
stock, Hants — once a Blue-coat boy. Nor were
Hermit, Aphrodite, or Vanderdecken bred by Lord
George. But the following: two were : Farintosh out
of Camarine 's dam, a most beautiful yearling, and
heavily engaged — but he went a roarer, and was good
for nothing ; and Gaper, who could run, but was far
from a good horse. Several of the rest he bred won

G— 2

84 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

many races, but none were first-class, and nothing
like so good as their sire, though many closely re-
sembled him in shape and lightness under the knee.

On the other hand, his really good stud-horse,
Venison, was let by his lordship to Mr. Sadler for
three years at £300 a year, with the option of pur-
chase for £1,500 at the expiration of the time. In
connection with the lease of this stallion I have to
give the first instance of his lordship's peculiar
notions of dealing with others. Seeing how blood-
like was the stock which Venison got, his lord-
ship wanted to have him back again, and adopted the
following ingenious method to Q-ain his end. Calling;
on Mr. Sadler in one of his most affable moods, he
said :

' By the way, I have a foreigner who wishes to buy
Venison, of whom I can get a fair price ; and as I don't
suppose you would like to keep him, I shall esteem it
a favour if you will let me have him.'

But genial as was the request, Mr. Sadler naturally
did not see the force of it. It was at the time sup-
posed, and most probably rightly, that his lordship
wanted him for himself. Very shortly after the failure
of this attempt to recover him, Venison passed into
the hands of my father and his son-in-law, Mr. George
Dixon, whose joint property he remained until his
death from fever of the feet, at Broughton, near
Stockbridge.

In fact, had not Lord George bought as well as

EARLY RACES AND SUCCESSES. 85

bred yearlings, his racing career, I suspect, would
have been short and disastrous. Crucifix, the best
mare he ever owned, was bought with Octaviana, her
dam, of Lord Chesterfield for £60. Grey Momus
came from Sir Tatton Sykes' stud. Venison my father
bought for him for a small sum from Lord Lonsdale.
He also bought UEgville for £500, and most of his
lordship's yearlings at that time. I should add that
his lordship was a most extensive breeder, having over
sixty brood mares, and the most costly stud in England,
if not in the world.

Lord George, so far as is known, commenced racing
in 1835 or 1836, under favourable circumstances. In
the latter year he won his first Leger with Elis, trained
at Newmarket by Mr. John Doe, and ridden by my
father. The following successful horses were trained
at Danebury : Venison, who won for him twelve races
out of the fourteen he ran for as a three-year-old,
feats of endurance little less than some of the horses
trained by Mr. T. Parr himself were called upon to
undergo. He was only beat by Bay Micldleton for the
Derby, and by the five-year-old Touchstone for the
Doncaster Cup. Drummer, Chapeau UEspagne, and
Foozool were other horses that ran, and each was a
winner. With a stud increased to nine, in 1836 five of
his horses carried his colours to victory. In 1838 Grey
Momus won him the Two Thousand, the Ascot Cup,
and five other races ; Chapeau UEspagne the 300 sov.
Sweepstakes at Goodwood (Queen's Plate course) ;

86 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

whilst Foozool, Seth, Mulberry Wine, and Ratsbane
were all winners. For several years success followed
success, for we find his lordship with Crucifix winning
seven of the best two-year-old races, and dividing the
eighth, the Criterion Stakes, with General Yates's
Gibraltar, after running a dead heat. Grey Momus
followed his success of the previous year by winning
the Post Stakes. Capote, Sal Volatile, and D'JEgville
were also winners. Grey Milton ran in two races,
which were won by his lordship's other horses.
Dormouse was the only horse that ran once and was
beat ; but with this exception every other horse was
either a winner or was only beaten in races in which
the winner was some other horse in the same interest.
Such luck year after year seems almost incredible,
and too good to last. Yet the following year may
almost be said to have eclipsed its predecessor. The
Two Thousand, One Thousand, and the Oaks fell to
Crucifix, making eleven races in which she had
not suffered defeat, and her winnings alone over
£11,000. Whilst of his remaining ten horses only
two were beat, or, I should more correctly say, were
not winners. Success, however, had only the effect
of making his lordship utterly impatient of defeat,
and next year caused him, on almost his earliest
reverses, to leave Danebury for Goodwood. But the
change was not satisfactory, and must have reminded
Lord Georg-e of a certain ' discontented little fish
which jumped out of the frying-pan into the fire.'

AMOUNT OF HIS WINNINGS. Sy

For at Goodwood, with a string increased threefold,
he met with nothing like the same good fortune. It
is true that he won many races and some important
stakes with Miss Elis ; but on the whole the results,
due to his own mismanagement, must be considered
very much below what might have been expected from
one of the very best studs in the whole world.

As to his winnings, there can be no doubt that he
won more over Crucifix, when she won the Oaks, than
over any other race. On this occasion he seriously
crippled the ring, which, amongst other little accom-
plishments, he sincerely hoped and tried to break.
But the recuperative powers of the magic circle are
inexhaustible, and it still reigns supreme, and is likely
to hold undisputed sway. In all her two-year-old
races, as I have said, Crucifix ran a winner, and in
every race he backed her heavily outright and for
the Oaks coupled ; repeating the same tactics the
following year on the Two Thousand, and One Thou-
sand. I see one authority puts him down as having
won £20,000 over the Oaks alone. This I consider
very much below the mark. If we double the sum
and add £60,000 for his winnings on her in other
races, we should not be over- shooting it.

With this outline of the general result of his lord-
ship's racing career, I may now offer some interesting
particulars of individual races. When Grey Momus
won for him the Two Thousand, ridden in straw-
coloured satin, Mr. Thornhill's Saint foin was second,

8S LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

whilst the third, Lord Suffield's Bamboo, was a horse
that the Newmarket people thought could not be
equalled, much less beaten. The race was a memor-
able one. It was run at a good pace all the way,
Bamboo leading several lengths to the bushes and
across the bottom; but he tired on ascending the hill,
and was beat. Lord Suffield and many other people,
including Mr. Boyce, the trainer, said that the jockey,
Arthur Pavis, lost it from bad riding. Indeed, the
race itself was a show. Trainers were seen riding
wildly excited, their hats waving in the airland shouting
at the top of their stentorian voices, ' There he goes !
There he goes ! They will never catch him !' believing
it impossible they should do. But he tired to nothing.
In the evening, Lord Suffield, not being satisfied with
the result of the race, challenged Lord George to run
again for £1,000 a side at the same weights over the
same course in the October Meeting. My father
being consulted, said :

1 Make the match now, and we shall win ; but if
you wait till October, when Bamboo is .made better
from condition, we shall lose.'

The match was accordingly made for the Friday,
for £1,000 a side — though ostensibly for £300 only
— as Lord George was afraid it might come to his
father's ears, who would not have liked his matching
for so large a sum. The race was run at the best pace, by
which the others hoped to correct the supposed error
made in the running of the first event, Bamboo

MATCH BETWEEN 'GREY MOM US' AND 'BAMBOO.' 89

leading to the bushes, when he again stood still from
the severity of the pace, and Grey Momus won much
more easily than he did before — a result certain,
indeed, from the way in which the race was run. It
was bad enough to get beat with a good horse unpre-
pared, but much worse not to have known it ; and
the height of folly to make running with a horse in
such a condition, after seeing how he tired in the
first race. There was much betting on both events,
particularly on the Two Thousand Guinea Stakes, and
the excitement great. I think the amount of money
Lord Suffield lost over the two races was the cause of
his temporary retirement from the turf ; but he after-
wards had his revenge, for Caravan beat Grey Momus
in the Houghton Meeting, over the T. M. M., in a match
for 1,000 sovereigns ; as did Vulture, Colonel Peel's
mare, for the same sum when he was a two-year-old.

Lord George did not, on the whole, get much by
his matching for heavy sums ; for I do not re-
member that he ever matched any of his other horses
for so large a stake, though he made many matches for
less. With respect to Grey Momus, I should perhaps
tell that when he won the Ascot Cup, beating
Caravan and Epirus, the jockey of the latter must, I
think, have backed the gallant grey which I was
riding. For just as we entered the straight he rode
up beside me, and shouted excitedly in his well-known
tongue, ' Go on, go on, or you will be beat !' and then
disappeared like a shooting-star from the front, and I

9o LORD GEORGE BENT IN CK.

won easily, [t was said that Lord George won £20,000
on this race. He also won a large stake over Bay
Middleton for the Derby, entirely from his beating
Elis in the Two Thousand. In the latter, although
Bay Middleton won only by a neck, my father, who
rode Elis, always declared he won in a common
canter, and attributed the closeness of the finish to
his * slipping ' James Eobinson, and nearly snatching
the race out of the fire. Nor was he singular in this
opinion, for others thought so too, and subsequent
running proved the truth of his belief.

When Lord George knew the form of Crucifix as a
yearling at Danebury, he entered her in every race
worth running for that he could find unclosed ; and
not only her, but with her all the rest of his
horses of the same age, so that no one should know
which he thought the best. She was cried with ISeth,
an old horse, at two stone, with several other year-
lings that were beat a long way, myself up, my father
riding the old one. Just as we started, we saw three
or four chimney-sweeps standing in the way ; and as
they would not move till we got close to them,
Crucifix, who was leading — for I could not keep her
back — took fright, and ran out of the course, and we
finished at the back instead of the front of the stand
as we had intended — she winning easily. Lord
George's notion of engaging all his yearlings, good
and bad together, for such a purpose as keeping the
public in the dark as to his plans, might have been a

'CRUCIFIX'— A SECRET KEPT. 91

very costly experiment. For had Crucifix broken
down before running, or gone amiss early, the amount
he would have had to pay in stakes and forfeits would
have been enormous.

Shortly after Crucifix won the Oaks she did break
down. This misfortune served to throw some light on
the peculiar racing ethics held by his lordship, and
showed that he was not incajmble of doughty deeds
hardly worthy the great Mentor, 'The Napoleon of
the Turf,' and most noble supporter of its moral
rectitude. The secret was so well kept that the mare
remained for a long time afterwards first favourite
for the Leger ; and there can be no doubt that his
lordship succeeded in laying a large stake against her",
either personally or through agents. Moreover, the
fact that he could not secure my father's co-operation
in his plan was one of the causes of his leaving
Danebury, as I shall show when I have an oppor-
tunity of relating the particulars of the rupture.

From this point we must, I fear, come to the con-
sideration of some of the more doubtful actions in the
racing career of this nobleman, if we would arrive at
a true estimate of his character, and of his influence
on turf morality. In the memorable race at New-
market for the Feather Plate — the last three miles of
the Beacon Course — Tripoli was entered, and ridden
by Bob West, a lad in our stable, carrying 7 st. 10 lb.
Here I have to correct the mistake before referred to,
made by the Admiral, who, in his book, gives the

92 LORD GEORGE BENT IN CK.

weight as 7 st. 5 lb. Tripoli made the running, and
was beaten a long way. This was done, as will be at
once recognised, to deceive the handicapper and the
public at large ; for these would naturally suppose,
without knowing to the contrary, that the horse
carried the weight of the other two-year-olds — about
3 st. 10 lb. or 4 st. But carrying the weight he did,
his form as shown was utterly untrue. Who would
suppose that this high-minded nobleman could have
done a thing which compelled the Jockey Club to
look on it with disgust, and in order to prevent a
repetition of the offence, to substitute fresh conditions
for those he had violated ? "We see this paragon of
perfection, for the sake of conquest and the achieve-
ment of an object wretched in itself, practising the
very thing which in others he sternly condemned.

On the point, I take the following from Admiral
Eous's work on horse-racing : ' The chief alterations
are the specification of feather-weights (Rule 3), which
in the olden time were considered to be 4 st. ; and
feather, like catch weights, were not called into the
scales until it was discovered, in 1841, that Tripoli'
(Lord George's horse) ' carried 7 st. 5 lb. in the
Feather Plate — last three miles B. C Lord George's
brilliant talent, usually so effectively displayed, was
not shown to advantage over this affair ; for the flimsy
trick was seen through, and his worthy intentions
frustrated by his own folly. The light- weighted
Tripoli won the Somersetshire Stakes at Bath the

'TRIPOLI1 IN THE FEATHER PLATE. 93

following year, carrying a real feather — not a 7st. 10 lb.
one ; but to his lordship's unutterable disgust the
public had the money, as whenever he wanted to
back him, at whatever price, there was always some
one before him offering to take it, or a less price ;
though after all he only won by a head, beating my
brother-in-law Wm. Sadler's mare, Bellissima, which
I rode, carrying 7 st. 13 lb.

There is no doubt that many of his lordship's
horses, with his knowledge, ran unprepared, for the
purpose of deceiving, not only the world at large,
but his friends also, in order that on a future and
fixed occasion he might reap alone the full reward
of this policy. Indeed, he was frank enough to say,
perhaps not altogether without reason : ' If you wish
to have anything made public write it to your friend
in confidence — everyone will soon hear of it.' To
prove his predilection for this curious method, it is
only needful to refer to the in and out running of a
few of his horses. Gaper, for instance, the sensa-
tional Derby favourite of 1843, in the previous year
ran last in his first race and first in his last race,
notwithstanding that in the latter ran Cotherstone
himself, who afterwards won the Derby. Who can
reconcile this difference ? Again, Miss Elis, in
1844, as a two-year-old, ran five races, and was
beaten in every one of them — though to save appear-
ances she won a little match carrying 5 st. — and in
the following year ran equally badly until she reached

94 . LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

Goodwood, when she astonished everyone by winning
the Stakes and Cup, beating Weatherbit, who was
always 7 lb. better than Old England and other
good horses. I think if horses belonging to anyone
else had run in such a suspicious way as these and
many others that I could mention which belonged to
his lordship, he would have been the first to have
caused a searching inquiry into all the circumstances ;
and if the least doubt had appeared to exist as to the
honesty of the purpose for which they were started,
all connected with the matter would have been
mercilessly condemned. For the sake of the reputa-
tion of Danebury, it must be remembered that all
this conflicting running took place when his horses
were trained at Goodwood, except in the cases of
Tripoli and Naworth, the former of which I have
accounted for, as the latter readily can be. For
Naworth, in order to qualify, was castrated, and ran
shortly after, whilst smarting from the unhealed
wTounds caused by the painful operation, only to lose,
the race he started for. This incident calls to mind
another which has been duly recorded in the follow-
ing words :

' Tregonwell Frampton was an accomplished
scoundrel and thorough rogue, although a wealthy
man and Master of the Horse in several reigns ; and
has all the appearance of villainy in his features, if
a portrait we have seen of him in an old mansion in
Yorkshire at all resembles the original. The old

CASTRATION OF 'NAWORTH: 95

wretch is there drawn coolly superintending the
castrating of his horse Dragon on the very race-
course, in order to qualify him for the race in which
he had, as it is currently recorded, to struggle,
mangled, bleeding and humiliated as he was. It is
farther reported that he won, and died immediately
after.'

I have no wish to attribute any of the charac-
teristics so plainly given to this worthy to our own
paragon, who in personal appearance at all events
was very dissimilar. But in the sentiment nnd
principle of the two actions, what is there that
differs ? The one did it for an immediate gain, which
he secured at the cruel loss of his horse ; the other
for a deferred one, which he missed whilst running his
own tortured animal totally for the purpose of deceit.

CHAPTEE VII.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK (continued).

The Derby of 1839— Objection to Mr. Eidsdale's Bloomsbury—
Lord George's defiance of the Jockey Club ; brought into court ;
result — Lord George's motive (?) — Exposure of the Running
Rein swindle; his interest therein — Scourges minor faults of
the turf — Levanters — Conduct towards Glen the baker — -His
wagering on Bay Middleton for the Derby and on Elis for the
St. Leger contrasted — False trial of Cherokee — Behaviour to
Mr. "VVreford — Difference with Mr. Greville — How Preserve
simulated influenza — A coughing-bridle — Wins £2,000 from
Wm. Scott on Red Deer — Solicitude for morality of trainers not
always carried out — A race in a fog, and curious decision — ■
Am asked to swear to what I do not know — Accuses ' The
Squire ' of swindling — Episode of the duel ; reflections thereon
—Reputed munificence, but faint proofs thereof — Takes back a
gift.

It will now, perhaps, not be amiss to examine some
of the laudable actions by which Lord George Bentinck
aimed to benefit the turf, and to see if such a con-
struction can be put upon them as will fairly entitle
him to be considered entirely disinterested in what he
undertook to do. I may begin with a prominent
case, in which, entirely at his own expense and risk,
as should be well known to his contemporaries, he

OBJECTION TO ' BLOOMSBURY.' 97

essayed to deprive Mr. Eidsdale of the fruits of the
victory of his horse Bloomsbury in the Derby of 1839.
The ground of his complaint was a false and in-
sufficient entry, and Lord George chivalrously claimed
the race for Deception, quite against the wishes of her
owner, Mr. Fulwar Craven, and brought an action to
prove his case. He was defeated, and to anyone but
a tyro, such a result would appear inevitable. For
in that year Rule 58, summarised, stood as follows :
' If any horse is objected to before ten o'clock in the
morning of the day of starting, the owner must pro-
duce a certificate or other document to the stewards
or other authorities ; but should the qualification of a
horse be objected to after that time, the person making
the objection must prove the disqualification.' In the
case of Bloomsbury, the injustice of the objection is
most apparent. The two stewards, gentlemen of the
highest honour, were invited by Lord George to
invert, and in fact did invert, the order of things ; and
instead of leaving him, as acting for Mr. Craven, or,
in truth, for himself, to prove this alleged disqualifi-
cation, as the rule referred to directed, called upon
Mr. Eidsdale to prove his qualification. With this
demand Mr. Eidsdale, though under no compulsion
to do so, readily complies, proves his case to the satis-
faction of the stewards, and the race is awarded to
the winner — to put it in the only correct way.

In justice to the stewards, I submit the account of
this business that appeared in the ' Racing Calendar'

7

98 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

of that year, which it will be seen does not in any
material point alter the case as I have represented it :
1 On the Friday after the race the owner of Deception
made an objection to the pedigree of Bloomsbury, and
requested that the stakes might be withheld to give
time to investigate the matter, to which the stewards
assented. On Tuesday morning Messrs. Weatherby
received the following letter from the stewards :

' Epsom,

1 May 21, 1839.
' To Messrs. Weatherby,

' We, the stewards of Epsom Eaces, considering

that although, by Rule 58, when the qualification of

any horse is objected to after the race, the onus of

proof lies upon the party objecting, yet that we are

not thereby precluded from receiving proof of such

qualification from the owner of the horse objected to,

if he shall see fit to tender it, we have this day, at

the request of Mr. Ridsdale, examined the evidence

tendered by him in support of the qualification of his

horse Bloomsbury, and are of opinion that the entry

in the Calendar is correct, that Bloomsbury was

qualified to start for the Derby, and that the owner

is entitled to the stake.

(Signed) ' Gilbert Heathcote,

' J. de Teissier.'

Now most people would think that an authoritative
decision of this kind would have been final. But

A POSSIBLE MOTIVE.

99

this was not the result with the prime mover in this
matter. The namer of Deception gave notice to the
stake -holder not to pay over the stakes, and they
were withheld ; and the question wTas brought into
a court of law and tried at the Liverpool Assizes in
August, wiien a verdict was found for Mr. Ridsdale,
the stakes meantime having been paid into the Court
of Exchequer. The actual question in dispute,
I should perhaps add, was whether Bloomsburij
should not have been described as ■ by Tramp or
Mulatto.''

As affectino; Lord George himself, the matter was
one of motive. What, I may ask, induced him to
hurl defiance at the stewards, and by impugning their
decision and trying to set it aside in a court of law,
bring contempt upon the whole body of the Jockey
Club ? Like another amiable character, Lord George,
I am afraid, ' was nothing if not critical,' and like him
also ofttimes ' his jealousies found faults that were
not.' In this case no roguery was complained of, nor
sinister motive imputed to anyone. What then, it
may be inquired, was the aim of the objection ?
Surely we shall not presume to think, as some un-
charitable persons have suggested, that Lord George
was a heavy loser on the horse that won, and would
have gained a large sum if only he could have, rightly
or wrongly, got the race given to his friend's mare.
In this view of it, the stake was a good one, and
worth playing for, though he missed it. Rather is it

7—2

ioo LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

not more charitable to attribute the interference to an
innate uncontrollable desire to meddle with other
people's affairs, and not always, as we may compla-
cently conclude, for the good of the turf ?

But I must not forget that Lord George was the
cause of bringing to light the plot of which Running
Rein, alias Maccabius, and Mr. Goodman Levy were
the heroes, in the Derby of 1844. The story is too
well known to bear repetition. As the result of his
victory, Lord George received the united thanks of
the public in recognition of his fierce desire, like
another Hercules, ' to cleanse the Augean stable ;' and
moreover was heartily congratulated on the successful
termination of the trial by his old and close friend,
the gallant Colonel (afterwards General) Peel, the
owner of Orlando, to whom the race was finally
awarded. Without wishing in the least to imply, in
this instance, the existence of any motive beyond
' the fierce desire ' to which I have referred, it is at
least not unfair to point out that such a thing as his
lordship's having stood a large sum of money on his
old friend's horse was within the range of probability.
And the malignant might urge that this may have, in
some way, acted as a stimulus to the vigorous prose-
cution of this diabolical offence. At all events, I
cannot believe, nor will anyone else, that his lordship
backed Running Rein, knowing his dislike to all ple-
beian owners, wdiom, had he had but the power, he
would have swept off the face of the earth ' in one fell

GLEN THE BAKER.

swoop.' In this light, the reversal of the places may
not have been altogether unwelcome, for another
reason than the vindication of turf morality.

That his lordship also hugely benefited the morals
of the turf in other directions I am the last to deny.
Witness his action in fining the clerk of the course at
Goodwood five shillings for every minute he was
behind time in having the horses ready to start. It
is true the unfortunate man's watch was to be regu-
lated by the clock at Goodwood, a mile from the scene
of action, and that this proviso may have slightly
interfered with the accurate carrying out of the rule.
But as punctuality was always strictly attended to,
the rule not being broken was never enforced, and no
longer exists. Nevertheless, if admirable intentions
be the basis of our judgment, his lordship in this
case must undoubtedly be regarded as a true reformer
of racing abuses.

We must remember, too, that his magnanimous
deeds extended to that erratic and most objectionable
class called ' Levanters,' with sweeping severity.
Here, again, his lordship did good service to the
cause he so heartily espoused — the dignity and honour
of the turf. In this respect one instance must suffice
to show the cause and effect of what he did, and how
and for what purpose he did it. Glen, the well-known
* baker,' then living in Regent Street (if I mistake
not), lost to his lordship £2,000, and offered to pay
him half, saying he ' would give him the rest as soon

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

as possible.' But his lordship's dignified reply was,
though curt, to the purpose.

' No, sir,' he said ; ' men have no business to bet
that have not the means to pay if they lose, and at
the proper time, punctually ; and unless you do so at
once, I shall proclaim and denounce you as a de-
faulter.'

I believe that in this case Lord George, for the
good of the turf, of which he was the great etiological
exponent, pursued the best possible plan in order to
keep it free from defaulters — and, which of course was
a mere bagatelle in his eyes, of getting his own money.
He knew Glen stood well with the ring, and had a
good business ; that to be a defaulter in the one, or to
lose the other, would be his ruin ; and that rather than
either disastrous event should happen, he would, in
some way or other, find the money and pay the debt.
This expected result, however, did not come off. We
are told that after the solemn words of admonition
fell from his lordship's lips, Glen, in uttering the
words ' Impossible, my lord,' gave an audible porten-
tous coarse sort of sigh or sob, which, like yawning,
proved catching. For at the very moment of his
expressing his inability to pay, his lordship became
— like his horse — a gaper, and ' gave a sort of superb
groan,' an involuntary expression of which Mr. Disraeli
may have been thinking when he made use of the
same words. But a disappointment of the kind could
not, any more than other annoyances, be brooked by so

WAGERING ON ' ELIS.' 103

august a personage ; and his lordship added to the
turf a defaulter, and lost his own money. This he
did, as some may think, by a refinement of cruelty.
For both results might have been averted, but for the
slight mistake he made in the imperious way in which
he tried to enforce the fulfilment of his moral tenets.

I have said his lordship was always a heavy better,
and won largely over Bay Middleton on the Derby.
Indeed, he won most of the money. The owner, Lord
Jersey, found himself in the pleasing position of being
able to win very little, Lord George having forestalled
him in every direction, as no doubt he had a perfect
right to do. But how, may we ask, did Lord George
himself act over the Leger when, as the owner of
Ells, he found himself in a similar position ? More
astute than Lord Jersey had been, he declared that he
had been forestalled, and vowed that unless he had
what he was pleased to term fair odds laid him to a
certain sum — and that not a small one — against his
horse, he should scratch him. Elis, for the St. Leger,
was as much a public horse as was Bay Middleton for
the Derby ; and the public had as perfect a right to
back the one as the other. Yet in this different way of
treating the same subject by two equally high-minded
noblemen, I have never heard Lord Jersey praised for
his straightforward conduct, nor Lord George censured
for what some may regard as his successful attempt
' to ride roughshod over the community,' when, having
the whiphand of them, he compelled the public to

io4 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

give up to him bets they had taken for themselves, as
they had a perfect right to do. Or it may have been
but an illustration of the familiar adage that ' one
man may steal a horse, whilst another may not look
over the gate.'

Lord George was unfortunate in other ways. Who
so forward to impose fines on others % or who broke
the restrictions more frequently in the spirit, if
not in the letter, than himself? We can easily
imagine how galling was the compulsory payment of
a £5 penalty, which he had to pay at Goodwood for
inattention to, or the wilful disregard of, one of his
own enactments. Again, false trials were then, as now,
got up to mislead the touts and deceive the news-
mongers. Such things are justifiable, I allow, in cases
when one's interest is unfairly assailed. Yet, unless
such forcible reason exists, in instances when friends as
well as enemies are deceived, the case is different,
especially when patricians descend to such subterfuges.
Ill-natured remarks were made at the time to the
effect that Cherokee, a mare of his lordship's, was
tried in a manner to lead to the suspicion that all was
not aboveboard ; and as the result of the race and
the betting went to prove that the surmise was
correct, we should hardly expect that noblemen con-
descending to such a practice should receive the
unqualified approbation of their equals, or indeed of
honest men of any position. Nor can entire admira-
tion be evoked by the urbanity displayed in a quarrel

'PRESERVE'S' INFLUENZA. 105

which Lord George had with Mr. Wreford, who was a
confederate with my father in the horses he bred.
The dispute occurred about the time his lordship
commenced to train at Danebury. The quarrel was
something more than a wrangle ; but Mr. Wreford
expressed himself unwilling to go to law, and proposed
that the point in dispute should be left to arbitration.
To this suggestion Lord George tauntingly replied,
with natural delicacy of feeling, in reference to a
domestic misfortune which had nothing whatever to
do with the matter in question :

' I thought, sir, you had enough of arbitration in
your daughter's case.'

I do not pretend to be so well acquainted with the
early part of Lord George's career, when he was con-
federate with Mr. C. C. Greville, as with the middle
and latter portion of it. But I remember that in
reference to certain matters which led to their separa-
tion, things were said of him, and allowed to go un-
contradicted, that were not entirely complimentary.
In the year 1834 Mr. Greville's Preserve won all her
two-year-old engagements, and was undoubtedly a
very good mare. Her dam was Mustard, the dam of
Mango, who won the St. Leger. The following year
she naturally became a great favourite for the Oaks-
To assist as much as possible in driving her back in
the betting, some one hit upon the following novel
and well-devised stratagem. Her nostrils were painted
inside and out with a mixture of starch, flour, and

106 LORD GEORGE BENT IN CK.

colouring matter to resemble mucus, before going to
exercise — a perfectly harmless mixture in itself, which
could easily be removed on returning to the stable.
Then by giving out that she was suffering from in-
fluenza, whoever it was that did the trick was enabled
effectually to carry out his design. Yet this tem-
porary success was afterwards deeply regretted ; for
the mare was beat by The Queen of Trumps, and
Lord George for once lost a heavy stake over the event,
and was therefore possibly one who, on this occasion,
afforded the sport of exhibiting the engineer ' hoist
with his own petard.'

Curiously, at the same date Lord George was
credited, but I may hope quite unfairly, with the
invention of a strangely constructed bridle, having a
long porch reaching nearly to the orifice of the gullet,
for the purpose of making a horse cough when wearing
it. This, in combination with the other stratagem
above mentioned, must have had a truly wonderful
effect, and have embraced all that was desirable, or
that ingenuity could devise, to reduce a healthy
animal temporarily to the last stage of the severest
cold. I have been told that this instrument in shape
closely resembled the bridle known as Lord George's,
which is still in use, and is a good one for hard pullers.
In fact, it will stop any horse in the least possible
time, whether on the racecourse or anywhere else. It
was such a bridle that Lord George's hacks generally
wore, and sometimes his racehorses. As for the

WINS TWO THOUSAND POUNDS ON lRED DEER.' roy

original bridle, I am afraid that its use as well as
invention is lost to posterity, for even the maker's
name is unknown, so for as I have been able to
discover.

I cannot refrain from reciting here one instance of
his lordship's generosity in giving others a chance to
take a good bet. When Bed Deer was favourite for
the St. Leger, on the Rugby platform, whilst the
train stopped for a few minutes, Lord George fished
out Mr. William Scott, having possibly heard that
the latter was in a complacent mood, or, probably,
hoping to find him so ; and after telling him how
greatly Bed Deer had improved, kindly laid him
£7,000 to £2,000 against the horse, 'just to save
him the trouble of collecting it in small sums,' as a
facetious writer once put it. Xow Bed Deer, if he
was not Lord George's own horse, belonged to the
Duke of Richmond, over whose stable he had, as is
well known, absolute control. Bed Deer started at
seven to one, and was nowhere. In our day, any-
one laying £7,000 to £2,000 against his own horse
would be looked upon with grave suspicion. But
who could then, or will now, be inclined to suspect
the illustrious nobleman of doing any other than
an honourable action ! At Doncaster, after the race
was run, William Scott met him in the rooms at
night, and gave him the £2,000.

' Here, my lord,' he said, ' is your money. It is
but the price of a few dirty acres of land.'

10S LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

To which, in his mincing, half-ironical, half-sincere
way, his lordship replied :

' Thank you, Mr. Scott ; thank you very much.'

Lord George, indeed, seemed rather fond of betting
with trainers and jockeys, and for large sums, about
horses of which he had the control ; and, like the
young lady, was easily led for good or for evil.
Nevertheless, it should, in justice to him, be frankly
admitted that he was always most anxious for their
welfare. To keep them untainted from the world
and betting was his chief aim and greatest delight.
Wagering, he would truly and sympathetically tell
them, is a temptation the pernicious effects of which
few are able to withstand ; and he would in other
ways and more forcible terms impress upon them
the danger of indulging in the practice. The instances
in which he won a few thousands from my father and
from Mr. William Scott in the manner I have related,
are the only exceptions to this valuable and excellent
precept that I ever heard of his lordship's making ;
and that he considered them exceptions we may judge
from the fact that, when taking the money, he did
not think it necessary to give them gratuitously a
moral lecture on the enormity of the offence they had
committed.

On one occasion his lordship was not altogether
pleased with myself. Before his horses were re-
moved to Goodwood, Ratsbane ran for and won
the Brighton Stakes in a thick fog. But, on return-

A RACE IN A FOG. 109

ing to the scales, he was objected to on the ground
that he had gone the wrong side of a post. After
examination, the stewards decided that it was not
intended that the horse should go round this parti-
cular post, and awarded the race to the winner. An
hour or so afterwards Toby Wakefield (or, as he was
facetiously styled, 'the Vicar') came up on Sir John,
then Mr., Shelley's Tawny Old, and claimed the race,
he having in it bolted to some neiodibourinof village.
He declared that he was the only one that had gone
the right course ; and, strange as it may appear, the
stewards reversed their former decision, and there and
then awarded the race to him ; but for what reason I
could never see. Lord G-eorge was naturally greatly
annoyed, and had me up to London before lawyers and
others to swear I went the right course. This I could
not, and would not, do ; and consequently he had to
give up the suit which he had commenced against the
stewards for the recovery of the stakes, and thought
but little of me afterwards. Yet was his lordship
quite in the right in wanting, indeed almost insisting
upon me swearing — I was but a boy at the time — to
a thing that he must have been well aware it was
impossible for me to know ? For who could see the
exact course he went in a fog so thick as to have
been almost absolute darkness ?

On one occasion, it may be remembered, Lord
George accused Mr. George Osbaldeston, of all people
in the world, of swindling, and immediately received

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

a challenge which he was obliged to accept. This
incident is thus recorded by a contemporary : ' We
alluded, in the early part of our sketch, to Lord
George's detestation of duelling. Nevertheless, he
was once obliged to go out, and his opponent was
none other than the redoubtable Squire Osbaldeston.
The quarrel originated in a betting transaction
between the parties at Heaton Park. At Newmarket
Craven Meeting, Mr. Osbaldeston, riding up to
Lord George Bentinck, said : " Lord George, I want
£400, won of you at Heaton Park." To this the
reply was : " You want £400 that you swindled me
out of at Heaton Park." Such a rejoinder hardly
admitted of an apology, and after the usual pre-
liminary arrangements, they met to fight a duel. It
fell to Lord George's lot to fire first. His pistol
missed fire, whereupon, without any appearance of
excitement, he said to his adversary : " Now, squire,
it is two to one in your favour." " Is it ?" said his
opponent. " Why, then, the bet's off," and dis-
charged the contents of his pistol in the air.'

With all due deference to the writer, my impression
is that this unpleasant affair originated, not at Heaton
Park, but at Croxton Park, when the squire was beat
on one of his horses on the first day, and riding the
same horse on the next day, Avon, when he had taken
Lord George's £400 to £100 that he would do
so. But surely there is nothing that could be called
swindling about such an occurrence, which we may

DUEL WITH THE SQUIRE.

see every day, unless, indeed, we put all the -world
down as swindlers, And I cannot but think, and
many will think Avrith me, that Lord George -was in
the wrong in making so grave an accusation without
being able to substantiate it. It would seem rather
to have been a novel and good way of settling one's
debts without payment. I am sure that no one who
ever knew 'the Squire,' will imagine for a moment
that he was capable of doing anything approaching
an ungentlemanly action. That he was constantly
in the habit of doing foolish ones, I admit, and
was oftener swindled, and in a variety of ways, than
most men, and, indeed, lost a fortune through the
duplicity of others. But he remained to the last,
though poor, an upright, straightforward, honest
English gentleman, and would never have asked
Lord George, or anyone else, for anything that he
did not know he was fairly entitled to receive. To
my thinking, and I shall not be alone in the con-
clusion, his lordship should either have paid the
squire, or given proof that he was not indebted to
him in some other way than the brusque one of
saying, ' You swindled me out of it.' His behaviour
in the duel itself, on the other hand, gave proof, not
needed, of the possession of courage and a superb
nonchalance. But so much cannot be said as to the
origin of it. For his lordship, if he felt himself
aggrieved, could have appealed to the tribunal that is
open to other people who have disputed bets. That

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

he did not object to such an appeal, we have proof in
the Ridsdale affair; and therefore we may suppose
that he would have had recourse to the same remedy,
had he thought himself in the right. One thing
appears certain, that if his lordship could not win or
run a dead-heat, he could always raise a wrangle — in
which art he was more an adept on the racecourse
than at college.

There is a wide belief that his lordship was
generous, and I am not going to contravene the
truth of the conclusion. Indeed, he has been repre-
sented as the most liberal of patrons. His last
trainer might possibly put a different complexion
on the matter, and I have my own personal
experience on the point. I certainly do not blame,
but rather commend him, in that he was not so
lavish and indiscriminate in his gifts as more recent
owners of racehorses have been. I certainly was
never the recipient of his bounty, in all the trials I
rode and the many races I won for him. Nor do I
remember having heard that anyone else received
munificent gifts from him. No doubt it should be
recorded that he gave a few presents to the lads in the
stable and to others when Crucifix won the Oaks, and
Chapeau TJEspagne and Ratsbane won two races at
Exeter. Nor should I forget to relate that on the
second day of the same meeting, when my brother
John entered the last-named horse for the Gold Cup,
value 50 guineas, and won it, his lordship was

TAKES BACK A GIFT. ir3

mightily pleased ; and on coming to Danebury, with his
customary munificence, made my mother a present of
the Cup, which she kept for several years — in fact,
until the horses left Danebury, when he demanded it
back again, saying that ' he had never given it her,
nor had he ever the idea even of doino- such a thing1 ' —
and the trophy was returned.

CHAPTER VIII.

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK (continued).

Personal appearance — Bold riding to hounds — Curious choice of
associates — Care for his paddocks — -Kaises Goodwood to a first-
class meeting — Mode of travelling— Visits to Danebury — Per-
formances in the saddle, and as a starter — Attitude to his
parents — Army career — His superior officer cashiered — General
disapproval of his conduct — Attacks Sir R. Peel — Mr. Disraeli
and ' the stable mind ' — Hasty sale of his stud — Its real value,
extent, and nomenclature — Mistaken judgment of Gaper and
Cotherstone — Separation from Danebury — Erroneous reports
of the real cause — Ill-feeling to my brother — Crucifix and her
clothing — Delay in settling his accounts — Triumphs of the old
stable, and effect upon him of continued disappointment —
Result of Mathematician' 's defeat of Crazier ; backs the wrong
horse — Melancholy end.

I have been content in what I have bad to relate,
so far, concerning Lord George Bentinck, to deal with
bis attitude towards the turf, and those he was con-
nected with upon it. But I may now give some
details of his personal appearance and characteristics
in other respects. And though the subject is a well-
worn one, I may yet be able to add some novelty to
it, if not correct some preconceived notions.

PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. n5

This distinguished nobleman, in height, was con-
siderably over six feet, and well jjroportioned. He
walked erect with a stately movement, proud and
distant, quite in keeping with the ancient pride of his
most noble ancestry. His dress was peculiar. His
tight-fitting buckskin trousers were in admirable
contrast to a claret-coloured coat, with brass or gilt
buttons. The massive gold chain shone brilliantly
on a dark velvet waistcoat. His necktie was always
of a spotless white or cream-coloured satin, and very
long and full ; and in it a neat pearl pin was always
to be seen. A fashionable hat, much the same as is
worn in the present day, completed his everyday
costume. I have heard him described as ' dressed in
buckskin breeches ;' and even seen a sketch of him in
top-boots, by Count d'Orsay. But I think it must
have been his hunting costume ; for on no other
occasion did I ever see him so attired. So far, at
least, as I am able to describe it, such as I have
depicted was the dress and bearing of one of the
most powerful and imperious autocrats that ever
ruled his compeers, or towered over a prostrate foe
in ' the insolence of conquest.'

I never heard of his beino- fond of shooting or
fishing, though he hunted occasionally, and was a
bold if not very judicious rider. Of this courage the
following episode will do for a proof. He bought of
Mr. Wreford a little black horse, called Wintonian,
which was afterwards first favourite for the Derby.

8—2

n6 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

His leg slightly giving way after the race, he hunted
him that same year. One day when he was riding
him, the hounds — the Tedworth (Mr. T. Assheton
Smith's) — met at Clatford Oakcuts, which was drawn
blank. They trotted off to Red Rice, Mr. Best's,
where a good fox was soon unkennelled, and made
the best of his way to Grately Gorse, skirting the
Marquis of Winchester's coverts on the right, scent
being breast-high. Still going at a rattling pace
under Quarley Hill, the line taken passed Cholderton
Lodge (where I last trained) to Wilbury Lodge,
where the hounds ran into him in front of the house,
Lord George being the first up, having charged the
park palings on his little thoroughbred, and got safely
over, and so set the field.

We have heard, and have good reason for believing,
that Lord George Bentinck was proud of his birth,
his position, and his talents. Withal he showed
curious contrariety. For he associated with Gaily
and Hill, and even took up the cudgels for Crockford,
the itinerant fishmonger, against his own Newmarket
jockey in the Ratan affair. He even thought it not
below his dignity to parade in front of the stand on
the lawn at Goodwood, arm-in-arm with Johnny
O'Brien, as he was usually called, a foppish base
adventurer, the son of a washer- woman. It will be
conceded, I think, that few of the nobility of those
days, or of the present time, would have so far
demeaned themselves. As a rule, I think they show

VISITS TO DANEBURY. 117

their respect for their friends and their exalted
position in the choice of less ignoble associates.

Lord George, as is known, commenced racing in
the names of Lord Lichfield and Mr. Bowes, the
latter an hotel-keeper. He, early in his career,
elected to ran in the name of John Day, and again
changed for that of the Duke of Richmond, and
ultimately raced in his own. He did nothing by
halves, and whatever he did was sure to be well
done. He made large paddocks ; and, for shelter,
planted a deep belt of fir-trees round them. He
made new gallops, watered and tanned them. The
tan he spread thinly over the ground, so that the
grass might come through it, and not as we see tan-
gallops nowadays. To Mr. Wreford was due the
suggestion of the use of water-carts, and the keeping
the sheep off the downs, which greatly improved
them. Lord George when at Goodwood did much
to benefit the training-ground there, and also the
racecourse, particularly the last half-mile, which he
widened and levelled at a very great expense. In
short, it was entirely due to his lordship's untiring
energy and lavish expenditure that glorious Good-
wood was raised from a plating to a first-class
meeting.

He usually travelled by night to Newmarket and
other race meetings. When visiting Danebury he
came in his large yellow carriage to the Star Hotel,
Andover, where he rested for a few hours, and then

n8 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

rode his grey mare on to the downs in time to see
the horses at exercise at five o'clock a.m. After
staying the day he rode his mare back to Andover,
and returned by night to town. My father generally
travelled with him inside the carriage ; whilst I had
to ride (when his light-weight jockey) with Free-
borough, his valet, on the back seat, often half starved
with cold or drenched with rain. He drove always
at a great pace, and rode, like Lord Palmerston,
furiously without judgment, whether on the road,
across country, or on the downs. As for railways, in
those days many of them were not finished, and
some of those now completed were not even thought
of; and stage-coaches and posting, though costly
(two shillings a mile), were the most expeditious and
best means of travelling to and from the several
meetings. The Drummer and Elis had, in 1836, the
honour of being taken to Doncaster in a van, drawn
b}~ four horses, made for the express purpose by
Herring, of the Xew Road, London, though the fashion
of it was due to his lordship's inventive faculty.

He never rode but twice in public as a jockey, that
I remember. In 1824 he rode and won, after two
dead-heats, a little race at Goodwood, on Olive, a
horse belonging to a Mr. Poyntz. But subsequently,
on Captain Cool', at the same place, over the Cup
course, he made such an exhibition of himself in the
match with Larry McHazl, having Lord Maidstone,
now the Earl of Winchilsea and Nottingham, for his

ATTITUDE TO HIS PARENTS. 119

opponent, that, as if conscious of his own incapacity,
he never sported silk again. Then, also, his per-
formance as a starter, so much talked of at the time,
was not a grand success. The wonder is, and ever
will be, that he should have undertaken to teach
the starter his duties, without knowing anything
whatever of them himself. But these, if failings,
were but foibles that anyone may be guilty of with-
out reproach.

In his family and social relations he betrayed
certain idiosyncrasies not usually regarded as the
complement of a noble mind. The Duchess of Port-
land was buried, I think, on the Monday in Doncaster
race-week. On this occasion Lord George, writing
to his trainer, said : ' As my mother will be buried
before the races, the event will make no difference to
the running of my horses, so take them as before
arranged.' In being prompted to this course, it is,
perhaps, difficult to discern the existence of the
tender susceptibilities of a mother's favourite son,
in respecting the memory of the loved parent from
whom he derived the greater portion, if not the whole,
of his income. ISTor will it be said there was greater
evidence of filial respect in his conduct to his father,
in keeping horses and running them in fictitious
names, after he had solemnly declared that he had
sold them to his ducal friend.

In his early life, we shall find an example of how
he studied etiquette and those rules of good breeding

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

which mark the different grades of society, and dis-
tinguish the educated from the unlettered. No doubt
at a youthful age his innate inclination to rule others
was discovered by his parents ; and hence, probably,
the army was selected as a profession wherein he
might be taught respect to his superiors and behaviour
at home, ' where most he owed obedience.' But he
seems to have defied restraint.

Whilst holding; a subordinate commission as a
cornet, he disobeyed the orders of his superior officer
and insulted him, for which discourteous act he (Lord
George) ought to, and assuredly would, have been
cashiered but for beino- the son of a duke — a degrada-
tion imposed on the captain instead of the cornet.
The following are extracts taken from ' The Bye-ways
and Downs of England ' on the subject :

' During his short service in the army, Lord George
had an unfortunate misunderstanding with his supe-
rior, Captain Kerr — a personal friend of the writer,
and an extremely gallant little fellow in all respects
■ — which led to the cashiering of the latter, and con-
siderable animadversion on the part played by the
junior, as openly expressed by most military men.'
This provoked a challenge from the captain to his
subordinate, and Calais was proposed as the place of
meeting. But Lord George would not accept the
challenge. On this the same author says : ' If this
statement be correct, and I have no reason to doubt
its accuracy, Lord George Bentinck, on refusing to

ATTACKS SIR R. PEEL.

meet the man he had unequivocally impugned, if not
insulted, in thus making the retort to the other's
reproof, given in the course of duty, harshly as it
was delivered, should at least have made a decided
step towards a reconciliation, and have withdrawn the
word " dared " from the offensive expression.'

On this matter there can, I think, but be one
opinion ; that, in refusing to meet the man who had
suffered the injury, Lord George showed the pos-
session of little moral courage — in this instance at
least.

As touching his career as a politician, it is recorded
of him that ' on the occasion when he addressed Sir
Robert Peel as having1 " wounded his illustrious
relative, Canning, to death," accusing him of pre-
meditated tergiversation in reference to the emancipa-
tion of the Roman Catholics, the language of the
Conservative leader assumed a tone impassioned,
fierce, and scornful as an onslaught of Fox or Pitt,
and effectually startled the House and honourable
baronets from everything like a disposition to som-
nolency on that especial evening.'

Here, again, we can scarcely admire the license given
to the tongue in the use of 'fierce invective and scornful
words ' to one whose recognised abilities, oratorical
powers, and good sense were so infinitely superior to
his own. Some may think it rather betrayed the
weakness of a light character. Mr. Disraeli may have
held a similar opinion of him ; for when in the House

LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

he told him ' he was a man of stable mind,' he was
no more laughing at him than when he penned the
celebrated line previously quoted, ' He gave a sort of
superb groan.' ' It is the blue ribbon of the turf,' he
slowly repeated to himself, and sitting down at the
table, buried himself in a folio of statistics.

An unequivocal example that his lordship possessed
a spirit not always under control, was given on the
occasion when, piqued by defeat on the racecourse
on Crozier losing, he offered his entire stud for sale.
When the deciding heat was given against him, in a
raging temper he offered to sell every horse he had,
comprising the whole of his stud — brood-mares, foals,
yearlings, and stallions, as well as his horses in train-
ing, with their engagements — to Mr. George Payne
for £10,000. After three days' reflection, the offer
was declined, and the stipulated forfeit of £300 paid.
But his lordship continued of the same mind, and
subsequently Lord Clifden and Mr. Mostyn were
allowed to have them conjointly for the same price.
In the lot were Surplice, winner of the Derby and St.
Leger, and other good races ; Loadstone, and a host of
other winners. The total stud may be put down as
having consisted of 208 animals — viz. : 50 horses in
training, 70 brood-mares, 40 yearlings, 45 foals, and
3 stallions ; and was worth over £100,000 at the
time he thus recklessly sold it.

The following will suffice to give some idea of the
magnitude of his lordship's racing establishment. In

JUDGMENT OF RACING. 123

the four days' racing at Goodwood in 1846, there were
thirty-one races, besides three walks-over. In these
races his lordship had horses in twenty-eight — the
three exceptions being the Queen's Plate, the Orange
Prize, and a small sweepstakes. In the twenty-eight
races he started as many as forty-four times, three
horses sometimes running in one race — in the Good-
wood Stakes to wit, where none of them were placed.
He won eight races only. And I think I may affirm
that no man ever ran so many horses in four days in
so many races with much worse success.

The following little relic is merely given as a
most curious specimen that, as in everything else
he undertook to do, he gave that deep study which
enabled him to master all difficulties, even to the
intricate matter of finding names for his horses. They
are but a few selections, but sufficient, I hope, to
indicate the general elegance of the nomenclature :
Black Gentleman, Coal Black Rose, Devil to Pay, Put
on the Pot says Greedy Gut, Devil-me-care, Nightcap,
Such a Getting up Stairs, Here I go with my Eye out,
Stop awhile says Sloiv, To bed to bed says Sleepyhead,
and All Round my Hat.

Few will be of opinion that Lord George may have
been an indifferent judge of racing. I confess I have
long been amongst the suspicious minority. He was
certainly far off the mark when he thought that
Gaper, as a three-year-old, had the slightest chance
of winning the Derby with Cotherstone in it. My

i24 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

father at all events did not think so, and laid against
him, as anyone had a right to do who was prepared
to meet the consequences. From sheer vindictiveness
Lord George commenced backing him ; and by the
weight of money he put on made the horse a favourite,
forcing my father, from prudential motives, to hedge,
and causing him to lose in this way something over
£1,000. But if he lost, Lord George did not come
out a winner ; for it must have cost him double this
amount in accomplishing his aim of keeping the horse
in the market. This was but the Crucifix business
over again, transferred from the son to the father, and
enacted at Goodwood.

This display of vindictiveness on his lordship's
part brings me to the consideration of a subject — the
cause of Lord George's leaving Danebury — which I
would willingly leave untouched, content with what I
have said on the subject in my previous work, were it
not that the matter has been grievously misrepre-
sented. I may at all events relate some of the more
interesting and important circumstances connected
with this memorable event. There were many reasons
given for his leaving his old quarters, and, as in other
like cases, those that seemed the most plausible and
probable were wrong. Rumour asserted my brother
John betted more than he ought to have done, and in
doing so betrayed the secrets of the stable. But this
did not consequentially follow. Furthermore, it has
been said that he had written two letters, one to his

SEPARATION FROM DANEBURY. 125

commissioner and one to Lord George on the same
subject, but in different terms. To the former he
said!: ' Lay against So and So for me ; he is hors de
combat, and won't run;' and to his lordship he said :
1 So and So is "well, and I recommend you strongly to
back him.' The letters, as a novelist would say, by
some unknown, strange, and overpowering agency,
found their way into envelopes for which they were
not intended, and the treachery complained of was
discovered. Now, as I lived at Danebury at the
time, if such a thing had occurred, I should most
likely have heard something of it ; but I must confess
I never did, until reading it many years after in
Mr. Rice's misleading book, fc The History of the
British Turf I do not impute to the memory of a
genial and accomplished writer on other matters, any
ill intention beyond that of writing in utter ignorance
on a painful matter.

In sum, the whole story is a fabrication pure and
simple from one end of it to the other. That my
brother did bet, I admit, and also that for doing so
Lord George disliked him very much, and continually
pestered my father to get rid of him ; but not only for
betting, but for many other visionary misdeeds of
which everyone knew he was entirely innocent. But
as the accusation was made on the bare word of his
lordship, whose statements my father had found out
were often of a very ex parte nature, and in this
case entirely uncorroborated, my father would not com-

i26 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

ply with his wish. This was the first cause leading to
the separation, and the next completed it. Nothing, I
imagine, can be more clear to an unbiassed mind
than that Lord George would not have cared who was
laying against Crucifix (or his other horses), if he
himself was not doing so, at the time when he knew
she was lame, or would be if she galloped ; for in
such a case he would sustain neither loss nor injury.
On the other hand, if he was laying against his own
horse, he may, indeed, have disapproved of anyone
getting a part of what he hoped to get for himself,
and of 'the interference with his rights,' if any such
rights he had, of which he so bitterly complained,
foro'ettino: that 'those that live in Mass-houses should
not throw stones.' He wanted her [Crucifix) to be
sent home from exercise, and have her clothing
changed, for the purpose of deceiving old Mr. Sadler
and the touts ; but my father would not consent.
Lastly, altercations took place between them and
before me, which ended by my father saying : ' If
your lordship insists upon this being done, you
may take your horses to Goodwood or wherever you
please.' To which his lordship ironically replied :
' Perhaps, sir, I ma}r.'

These facts have come within my own knowledge
— I vouch for their accuracy, and have no hesitation
in relating them as a matter of history, and as a flat
contradiction to Mr. Rice's account.

It was not till a very long while after the horses

SUBSEQUENT REVERSES. 127

left Danebury that Lord George could be induced to
settle his account, which heretofore was always paid
with business-like promptitude. Everything before so
correct, was now stated to be wrong, and most of
the items challenged, though they differed in nothing
from former accounts. Among these was disputed
the charge of one guinea for the boys riding in trials,
on the ground, he said, that the then Duke of Rich-
mond only paid his boys five shillings each for ridinc
in trials ; yet other trainers charged the regulation
price of two guineas. Many other items even of a
more trivial nature formed the subject of a fierce and
prolonged dispute ; but in the end his lordship had
to pay the account as it was delivered, and the cost
of a heavy lawsuit into the bargain ; which can
scarcely be regarded as a clever performance on his
part.

As to the. reasons for his leaving Danebury, I think
I have pretty conclusively shown the actual facts.
And how strange it is to find that the man who
devoted the whole of his energy in the latter part of
his life to ruin another, should by that very action
have ruined himself. But it is true. For it will be
quite easy to show that it was the first step to the
bitter disappointment which drove him distracted
from the turf altogether. It was said, and widely
believed, that he gave up racing in order to have
more leisure for the earnest prosecution of his Parlia-
mentary duties. If it were so, it should be recorded

i28 LORD GEORGE BENTINCK.

in his favour ; but, unfortunately, it is a fiction. Ill-
success in racing; drove him from the turf, and de-
stroyed his peace of mind — if he ever had any after
leaving Danebury. The successes of the stable he
had abandoned dealt the blows that destroyed him.
The victories of Pyrrhus the First, Mendicant, and
Hero, in all of which my father was deeply interested,
first undermined his self-confidence, followed up as
they were by Cossack's triumph in the Derby of next
year ; whilst the final stroke was given by the success
of Mathematician, which was also my father's horse.
This latter event drove him broken-hearted from the
turf, and hastened his death, if it were not the absolute
cause of it.

The scene was at his favourite Goodwood, in a
race for a 200 sov. sweepstake, all the money or
P.P. Lord George ran two horses — Crozier, out of
his prized mare Crucifix, and King of Morvin, the
latter being run to assist the other, which was thought
the better of the two and good enough to win, and
heavily backed. My father had Mathematician, brother
to Euclid, in the race, a horse he had bought at Mr.
Thornhill's sale, when a foal, for 400 guineas; nothing
very good, though thought well of, the Danebury
stable being at that time powerful, so that the weight
of money made him favourite, in spite of the heavy
sums that Lord George had piled on his own choice.
Mathematician and Lord George's horse ran a dead-
heat — but with the wrong animal, so far as his lord-

DEFEAT OF 'CROZIER.' 129

ship's interests were concerned. It was, indeed, a
virtual defeat to Lord George, for he had, as I have
said, backed Crazier, and so lost; thus completely
shattering his reputation for judgment in backing the
worse horse of the two. On this he became furiously
excited ; and when the dead-heat between Mathe-
matician and King of Morvin was run off, betted with
still more extravagant recklessness than he had done
before ; and being beat again, gave rein to his uncon-
trollable temper — as I have previously related — and
offered to sell, and ultimately sold, every horse he
had for £10,000.

In conclusion, I may perhaps describe the career of
this illustrious nobleman as that of a disappointed
man. If, like Mr. Osbaldeston, he could do many
things well, on all great occasions he found some one
who could do them better. I do not even consider he
was successful in racing, considering the laro'e stud he
had, and the ample means of supporting it. After
leaving Danebury, he was entirely unlucky. He dis-
played singular want of judgment both in parting
with his stud for a tithe of its value, and in backing
one of his own horses against another and a better
one. As a soldier, he showed himself captious.
His political career was not brilliant. If he was by
nature justifiably haughty, he displayed little mag-
nanimity on more than one occasion ; and showed
himself capable of descending to plebeian vices with-

9

130 LORD GEORGE DENTIN CK.

out the excuse of necessity. He died on the 21st of
September, 1848, in the forty-seventh year of his age,
in one of his father's meadows near Welbeck Abbey,
and was buried in Marylebone, London, where much
of the family property is situated.

CHAPTER IX.

MEN OF PAST DAYS.

The Bentinck family— The old Duke— Proud but liked— Races
with Mr. Greville — Tiresias's Derby— The Duke offended —
Incident at Newmarket — A needful correction — Newmarket
then and now — Lord Henry as a sportsman — An adventure on
the moors — The late Duke as Lord Titchfield — Curious dress
in summer — Monastic seclusion of Welbeck — Lord George and
the fair sex.

Mr. Fulwar Craven; oddity in dress — Deception; in the Oaks
and Derby — The jockey interviewed; a neat rejoinder — Addicted
to Ioav company — Mr. Ramsay — Curious stories told of the two
— Anecdote of his trainer, Mr. Dilly : ' the dead alive ' —
Sagacious dogs : a terror to tramps ; a home-comer ; the signal-
dog at Porchester Station — Drawing a bear.

Lord Glasgow's oddities — General Peel before the Two
Thousand — His indifferent stud — Delight in reckless matches
— Handicaps himself — Offers £90,000 against Gaper — Temper
and ill health — Bequeaths his stud.

Lord Exeter's personal peculiarities — His racing — Insistence
on trying and running his horses — Blue Rock proves not un-
broken— Sale of his Newmarket property — Sir Gilbert Heath-
cote ; Amato's Derby ; a racehorse as ' a heriot ' — Baron J. de
Teissier — Lord Jersey's successes — His view of breeding.

I closed my last chapter with an account of the
lamentable death of Lord George Bentinck. I cannot
do better in this one, than set down some of my

9— 2

i32 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

recollections of the other members of his august
family. I may commence with some account of the
personal appearance and characteristics of the Duke,
his father. His Grace, who was diminutive in stature,
used, in my time, to be seen riding over the Newmarket
heath in a peculiar and distinctive dress. He wore
top-boots, buckskin breeches, a chocolate-coloured
coat, and tall black hat ; and his servant, who always
rode at a respectful distance behind him, was similarly
attired, except that round his waist he wore a broad
leathern belt, in which to secure his Grace's overcoat,
in case of wet weather. The Duke always rode beauti-
ful hacks, steady and good steppers, mostly about
fifteen hands high, rather under than over, all bays
with black legs. Like his son, Lord George, he
was reputed to be one of the worst-tempered men
then living. He was as distant and reserved to his
equals as to those he employed. But he must have
possessed many cardinal virtues which more than
counterbalanced these blemishes of character ; for he
was generally liked by all classes, and was an honest
and thorough sportsman in all matters with which he
had to do in connection with the turf. His wealth,
I should add, if jnossible, exceeded his pride.

He was as fond of racing as his son Lord Henry
was of fishing and shooting, and kept a stud which in
those days was considered large. He had as con-
federate in it, Mr. C. C. Greville, a gentleman much
younger than himself, and considered a very good

THE OLD DUKE OF PORTLAND. 133

judge of racing. The horses were trained by Mr.
.Richard Prince, at Newmarket, and generally ridden
by my father. All his horses were run, as they
should be, in the most straightforward way. He
disliked a jade, and ran his horses long courses,
insisting on the most being made of them. He had
Skip Jack, Indus, Stainborough, Screw, Tiresias, Comi-
cal, Theban, and others. In 1819, Tiresias won him
his only Derb}^. The victory was said, at the time,
to have been due to the number of false starts ; and it
was, moreover, alleged that these had been pre-arranged
from sinister motives. But the Duke, we may be
sure, had no hand in any such manoeuvring, if it
did take place. Indeed, so annoyed was he at the
rumour, that he never ran a horse in the race after-
wards, thus keeping to his word expressed at the
time. This, of course, occurred before I knew his
Grace ; but I give it on the authority of my father,
who was likely to know the truth of the matter.

I have now to relate one amusing and characteristic
incident in relation to his racing. When Ampliiaraus
won for him at Newmarket, he rode up to the old
Red Stand saddling enclosure, to which in those days
privileged persons on horseback had the entree, a
right now done away with, and waited until my
father returned from weighing, and had mounted his
hack. Then, before all the people, his Grace ex-
claimed, in an audible and solemn voice :

' John Day, you are a thief !' and, without waiting

i34 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

for a reply, but smiling graciously, added : ' You
stole that race for rue.'

This was the only occasion on which I ever
remember even to have heard of any attempt on his
Grace's part to be witty ; or, under any circum-
stances, to be in the least familiar with either trainer
or jockey.

I should say, in relation to this anecdote, that it
is recorded by ' Druid,' in ' Silk and Scarlet,' dif-
ferently, he attributing the speech to the Duke of
Grafton. But he is mistaken, as the words were
undoubtedly those of the Duke of Portland, and
uttered exactly in the manner I have related. I
should also perhaps observe that this usually correct
writer also falls into another error, in writing of the
Duke of Grafton being about to make a present to
my father. The true story I have already given in
' The Racehorse in Training.' I then said it was
Lord George Fitzroy, acting for his brother, the Duke,
who made the present in these notable words :

' In the Duke's name, and for him, I present you
with two five-pound notes on the Bank of Bury St.
Edmund's, and beg you will take care of them.'

The Duke of Grafton himself was an invalid, or
thought himself one ; and for many years would not
leave his bedroom. On one occasion, on my father's
asking him if he intended going to the races, his
Grace replied :

' No ; I am too comfortable here, John.'

NEWMARKET AS IT WAS. 135

Lord George Fitzroy had the management of his
stud ; but the Duke himself I never saw.

Talking of the old days at Newmarket calls vividly
to mind the difference between the amusement
afforded then and now. Then, to canter to the
Ditch stable to see the horses saddled and take their
preliminary canter before starting, and return to
the winning-post in ample time to see the finish, was
real enjoyment. Then you could catch more than a
glimpse of any horse you wished to see. Now many
are invisible altogether, or, at any rate, to those who
may be specially interested in them. How changed,
indeed, for the worse to-day is almost everything con-
nected with the ancient place, as well as the racing
itself ! Instead of riding on to the course on hacks,
most people now start from the Coffee Room in
close carriages, and are set down at the back of the
Stand, which they seldom leave during the races,
unless it be to visit the adjacent ' Birdcage,' where
their wishes may be gratified, or their hopes disap-
pointed, just as they may or may not see the favourite,
or any other horse ; as there is no certainty, but the
reverse, that the particular horse may not be saddled
elsewhere. I am not the only one that thinks so. I
have heard many of the old sporting habitues of the
place say the same, and that they now prefer Epsom
and Ascot to Newmarket in its altered form.

But I must return to my recollections of the
Bentinck family. The Duke's son, Lord Henry, I

136 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

have referred to as being extremely fond of hunting
and shooting. Of the former sport he was always a
staunch supporter, being for many }Tears a master of
hounds. He was a bold and hard rider, and per-
formed many cross-country exploits of great difficulty,
in spite of the fact that he had defective sight and
always wore spectacles. Nor was this disability a
drawback to his shooting, in which sport he also ex-
celled. I have heard he could kill two-thirds of any
number of rooks on the wing that he fired at with a
pea-rifle ; and his aim was as unerring at long dis-
tances at a stationary object. No doubt this mastery
of them created and kept alive his fondness for these
pleasurable pursuits.

He spent much time upon the moors; and it was
whilst so engaged that a curious adventure is recorded
as having happened to him. After walking from an
early hour in the morning till late in the evening, he
at last waded a brook up to his arrnpits to enable him
to get within reach, unobserved, of a herd of well-
antlered deer. This he accomplished satisfactorily.
But, to his great disgust, on pulling the trigger he
found that his keeper by some unaccountable thought-
lessness had not loaded his rifle. For this neglect
the unfortunate man paid a heavy penalty.

I have not yet spoken of the eldest brother, the late
Duke, in those days known as the Marquis of Titch-
field. I never remember to have heard that he had
any love for, or was in any way connected with, field-

THE LATE DUKE OF PORTLAND. 137

sports. But ill-health probably was the cause of this,
rather than want of inclination. At all events, I never
saw him on a racecourse, or heard of his making a
bet. He once came to Danebury in the height of
summer, dressed in a long, heavy sable-fur coat, that
nearly touched the ground when he stood erect — a
garment, I should have thought, more calculated to
resist the inclemency of a Siberian winter than the
overpowering heat of a midsummer-day ; but perhaps,
like a certain person I have heard of, he ' thought
what would keep the cold out, would the heat as
well.' He was, I always understood, generous, and a
good landlord. He allowed each of his tenants a key,
that they might drive round the park or through it
whenever it suited either their pleasure or conveni-
ence. On the other hand, in order to shelter himself
from their observation, or from the sight of anyone
else, he hid himself under a large umbrella, which he
always carried with him for the purpose.

The world has learned something about his sub-
terranean buildings at Welbeck Abbey. They are
extremely beautiful and extensive, and possibly the
most costly buildings in the country.

He carried his shyness to such an extent, that in
his later years he would scarcely see anyone except a
few of his old domestics. I have some remembrance
of his town residence, Harcourt House, Cavendish
Square, for it was the first house I ever slept at in
London. I stayed there when on my way to New-

138 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

market. Here, too, his Grace carried his mania for
seclusion to an extreme pitch ; for he had the
"wall at the back raised to a height that absolutely pre-
cluded his neighbours from overlooking either himself
or his mansion. ' A creaking door hangs long on its
hinges;' and the late Duke, who was always an invalid,
lived to see the deaths of his two robust brothers,
Lord Henry and Lord George.

None of the three were ever married — a circum-
stance which is the more strange, because all of them
had money and position, and one at least possessed the
fascinations which attract the regard of the fair sex.
Lord George, in particular, could make himself one of
their most agreeable companions. He was not only
one of the finest men that was to be seen, but he
was extremely handsome ; and his politeness to ladies
was proverbial, and excited their general admiration.
And he was more fond of them than is, perhaps,
generally supposed; and of this partiality I had
many opportunities of forming an opinion on the
occasions when his lordship brought visitors to
Danebury and elsewhere.

One of the most notable characters figuring on the
turf at this period was Mr. Fulwar Craven, of Beck-
hampton. He was a gentleman by birth and educa-
tion, if his eccentricities were beyond comparison at
the time, and have never been eclipsed since. His
dress itself was inimitable. He wore lio'ht-coloured
kerseymere breeches and gaiters, the tongues of the

MR. FULWAR CRAVEN. 139

latter nearly covering his boots, which, in their turn,
were more dandified than substantial. The hinder
part of the calves of his legs was uncovered for
some two inches in width, the better to display his
flesh-coloured silk stockings. He wore a claret-
coloured coat, buff waistcoat, and a large-frilled shirt.
From the outside breast-pocket of his coat hung a
large yellow silk handkerchief, covering half his side.
His shirt-collar was Gladstonian, of an immense size,
and round it was loosely wound a gaudy necktie,
secured with a pin nearly the size of a small saucer.
He had long, flowing, and very bushy red or
auburn whiskers; and wore a white hat, character-
istically high. He took an immense quantity of snuff
from a huge gold box, which he carried in his
waistcoat-pocket.

Mr. Craven had several trainers. Amongst them
were Mr. Treen and Mr. John Dilly. Of the latter,
who was in his way almost as droll and witty a
character as his employer, I shall have something to
say later on. Mr. Craven cared little about racing,
though he owned some good horses, amongst them
Longwaist, Carew, and / Wish you may get it — and I
must not omit Deception. This mare was the best he
bad in later days. She won the Oaks for him ; and
it was said she ought to have won the Derby. Treen
was her trainer at the time, and a very good one too ;
and no less capable as a jockey — an important point
in this matter, as he rode her in the Derby; whilst

140 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

my father was in the saddle for the Oaks. For, con-
trary to the generally received opinion, I do not think
that the change of jockeys affected her running, or
that bod riding lost the Derby. It may be remembered
that this was the case in which Lord George Bentinck
undertook to interfere, and proceeded so far as to
carry out a lawsuit, in which he failed, as I have fully
related. But in respect to the jockeyship of the race, I
have a little tale to tell, which may remind some of my
readers, from their own experience, how needful it is
to be chary of uttering a pronounced opinion in com-
pany we know nothing of. Treen, on his way to
London, was asked by a perfect stranger if he had
been to the Derby. On his answering that he had
been, the other went on to say :

' Then I suppose you saw the jockey nearly fall on
Deception, and lose the race.'

Treen could not stand this. It was too touchingly
effective ; and he replied sharply :

' I rode her myself !'

' Ah,' said the stranger, ' I did not see the race,
but heard some one say so! It just shows how
stories do get circulated, and how people believe
them.'

This, I think, must be regarded in the light of a
rejoinder turning an awkward conversation into
another channel, as very neat indeed.

Mr. Craven was curious in the way he described
himself, as in other things. He would allow neither

TWO CURIOUS WORTHIES. i4I

prefix nor suffix to his name. He was addicted to
dissipation in its wildest forms ; was never married, I
believe, and was fond of gay company socially beneath
him. Every day, when the races were over, he would
be found in such company, amusing himself and
everyone else by his jesting and buffoonery — not of
a very refined nature. His extravagant anecdotes,
effectively told with the gravity of a Munchausen,
would elicit from his audience roars of laughter,
repeated again and again; until, satiated with the end-
less variety of the bon mots, recitations, and songs that
he would pour forth, they would retire to rest with
aching sides, or overpowered with the reeking fumes
of tobacco and too potent libations.

His special boon companion in these debauches was
Mr. John Ramsay, formerly an inspector of police,
who for many years resided at Abingdon. In mad-
cap freaks he was as thoughtless as Jack Mytton.
Indeed, on one occasion he helped that worthy, when
passing up Melsom Street, Bath, to throw a stranger,
whom they happened to find ' very jolly,' through
an adjacent shop- window. At the annual race-
meeting at Abingdon, on one occasion, our two
loquacious acquaintances, Messrs. Craven and Ramsay,
met at the Lamb Inn, for the express purpose of
seeing which of the two could clothe the greater
number of untruths in the pleasing semblance of
reality. As few men could have had more retentive
memories than the pair possessed, or a greater sense

i42 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

of the ridiculous, and, I may add, a smaller regard for
the morality of their anecdotes, it may be imagined
that the exhibition was a unique one in its way. On
another occasion they were, for a trifling sum, pitted
together to try which of them could sing the greater
number of songs with the fewest verbal mistakes in
the shortest time ; and Mr. Craven was declared the
winner at his 120th song, his opponent having only
reached No. 110. At this memorable scene I was
not present, and therefore ' only tell the tale as it was
told to me.' The only story, and that a fable, which
I call to mind as closely resembling this, was of a
Frenchman and a Yankee, who were pitted to talk
against time and one another, no matter on what sub-
ject, so long as the jargon was continuous. After
talking the umpire and witnesses to sleep, they went
on with unabated ardour until the Frenchman,
from sheer exhaustion, fell lifeless from his chair ;
the Yankee continuing, being found by the umpire,
on the latter's returning to consciousness, whispering
in the dead man's ear, ' Truth appears stranger than
fiction.' I may, perhaps, add, as I have stated in my
former work, when referring to these two worthies,
that they both ended their days as reformed characters,
in great rectitude and as severe disciplinarians. Mr.
Ramsay became a Methodist preacher and teetotaler ;
and Mr. Craven, abandoning his former habits, led a
strictly religious life.

I have referred to another curious character, Mr.

THE DEAD ALIVE. 143

John Dilly, the trainer. I am unprepared to say
whether he caught his many eccentricities from asso-
ciation with Mr. Fulwar Craven, or whether the latter
enriched his superabundant store of anecdotes from
Mr. Dilly's repertory. How this was will never be
known. But I may tell that the Littleton trainer
was always impecunious ; for he lived extravagantly
and be'yond his means. He was also not regarded
as being over- attentive to the truth. One day he
asked Mr. Wreford, who trained with him at the
time, if he would do him a little favour by putting
his name to a bill for him for £300. It was, as he
confidently assured him, ' but a matter of form.'
But Mr. Wreford did not see it, and briefly replied :

' The matter of form is simply this, Mr. Dilly — if
you can't pay it I must.'

After borrowing of any and every one he could,
and after having tired all his relations out, he hit
upon the following successful scheme to raise £25
from his brother. He was then living at Newmarket,
and his brother, Mr. Montgomery Dilly, at Littleton,
in Hampshire. John Dilly wrote in the name of
a ' mutual friend,' in a disguised hand, and said :

' Dear Sir,

' I am sorry to inform you your poor
brother, Mr. John, is no more. He departed this life
this morning, almost without a struggle. Feeling sure
you would like to see him have a decent burial, I

144 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

have given instructions to the undertaker to see this
carried out. I think the expense will be about £30 ;
but if you send me your cheque for £25, I will get
the accounts and send them to you as soon as the
funeral is over. I hope you will not think I am
officious in this matter ; and, if there is anything else
you wish to have done, please let me know, and I will
attend to it.

' Yours faithfully,

' William Smallbody.
' To Montgomery Dilly, Esq., Littleton.'

A cheque was duly forwarded, with a letter thank-
ing the mutual friend for his kind interference. It
was duly received and as duly acknowledged by
'Mr. Smallbody.' Mr. Montgomery Dilly, Mr. W.
Dilly, and their two sisters, all went into deep
mourning for their dear departed brother. To the
great surprise of the first-named gentleman, on his
visiting Newmarket a few weeks after, who should he
come upon but his brother John, still in the flesh,
alive and hearty I Naturally, the one brother up-
braided the other for his heartless deceit. To this
poor John replied :

' Ah, 'Gomery, I knew you would not send me
anything to keep me alive ; but I thought you might
to see me safely underground.'

Curious as this story may seem, there is not the

A TERROR TO TRAMPS. 145

slightest doubt of its truth, and that the circum-
stances were very much as I have related them.

"Writing of Mr. Ramsay, I am reminded of the
acuteness and services of a dog that he owned, and
had taught to do many strange things. It was a
plain-looking sort of half-bred Newfoundland ; and
one day, whilst standing near the Lamb Inn, at
Abingdon, Mr. Ramsay said to me :

' Do you see that dog on the other side of the
road ?' and, on my answering in the affirmative, con-
tinued : ' he is watching and following that tramp
there a few yards before him' — which he evidently
was doinir. ' He will never leave him till he sees
him safe out of the town ; and then will come back
to look for any other vagrants he can find. This the
dog does every day, with or without me. He so
frightens the tramps that they generally make the
best of their way out of the town, and dispense with
his company.'

One story leads to another, and especially on the
subject of the sagacity of our faithful four-footed
companions. Dogs have been known to find their
way home again from great distances, although they
may not have known a foot of the road. I can
readily believe it, for I have had experience of their
ability in this way. Forty years ago a little sagacious
animal of my own, of no breeding, stole away and
accompanied my horse Fugitive from the Anchor Inn,
Kenford — or, as the Cornishmen call it, ' The Pickaxe

10

146 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

and Snake ' — to Plymouth, a distance of about fifty
miles. To prevent the dog's being lost or taken,
we fastened him up in a stable after feeding him for
the night. The next morning the ostler incautiously
opened the door. The dog, taking advantage of this,
escaped, and, not seeing any of us about, retraced his
steps to Kenford, where he arrived footsore the same
evening, about six o'clock. To have accomplished
this he must have passed through many towns,
villages, and hamlets, without mistaking his way, or
allowing himself to be turned aside for a moment
from his course by the interference of other dogs or
any kind of obstacle.

At the moment of writing I am reminded that, at
the Porchester station, between Cosham and Fareham,
on the South-Western Railway, there is a clog to be
seen that is quite a character in its way. It is a sort
of Clumber spaniel, lemon and white. It gives notice
of each stopping train, generally before, but always
on the moment of its appearing in sight. On its
approach he rises up from the mat where he is
generally lying, and trots up and down the platform,
wa^aino; his tail and barking continuously. I saw
him myself in July last, when, long before I could
see the train approaching, he commenced barking all
along the platform, and ran down the steps to the
yard below, and outside, still giving tongue, as
though to warn passengers of the near arrival of the
train. The most curious point is, as the station-

DRAWING A BEAR. i47

master informed me, that he takes no notice of the
express trains that do not stop at the station, nor of
luggage trains, apparently holding them in contempt,
and allowing them to pass and re-pass without any
warning. Moreover, he understands that he is not
allowed to cross the line, and only very seldom defies
the prohibition.

I cannot dismiss my recollections of Kenford with-
out a reference to a very laughable incident connected
with that retired locality. One evening, at the door
of the Anchor Inn, just about dark, an unfortunate
Italian, carrying a barrel-organ on his back, and
leading a performing bear, came up sore-footed and
tired. Poor Bruin, nearly exhausted, and much to
the annoyance of his master, selected a dry ditch on
the opposite side of the road as a place of repose, from
which it was not possible to move him an inch. At
the moment, Mr. Pitt's carter came by with a couple
of plough-horses. The Italian offered the man a
quart of cider to haul the bear out for him. With no
idea of the kind of load he was going to tackle, the
carter assented, and, fastening the traces to the bear's
collar, gave the horses a cut with his whip, and cried,
' Gee up.' On this, old Bruin gave a tremendous
howl, which so frightened the horses that they sprang
forward, and knocking the carter down in their rush,
bolted through Kenford. The Italian following them,
turned a corner and met a man, to whom he said :

' Have you seen a pair of horses go by you ?'

10—2

i43 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

' Oh yes,' replied the man, half dead with fright ;
' I have seen them, and Dickens driving them.'

The horses were stopped on Red Cross Hill, and
the poor bear set at liberty, nearly dragged to death.
So ends the bear story, which I am afraid has led me
somewhat astray from my purpose of recording some
peculiarities of the turf patricians of past days.

The late Lord Glasgow was, I might almost say
as all the world knows, a most eccentric character in
all that he did or undertook to do in racing. He,
too, affected his own style of dress, wearing nan-
keen trousers too short for him, or, as the Irish-
man would say, having the habit of putting his legs
too far through them. He wore a waistcoat of the
same material, of faulty cut, a dark-blue coat with
plain brass buttons, and a tall hat. And, so attired,
he rode on horseback each day to see the races at
Newmarket. A top-coat apparently he scorned. I
never remember seeing him in one, no matter what
the weather. He had as many, or more, trainers than
anyone I can think of, and jockeys in like super-
abundance. It would, indeed, be impossible to
enumerate them all.

I call to mind that when Mr. Thomas Dawson
was his trainer, and won the Two Thousand for him
with General Peel, the night before the race his lord-
ship took me to see the horse in the stable, being
accompanied by Mr. Gerard Sturt, now Lord Aling-
ton, and several other noblemen. He bid me feel his

LORD GLASGOW. i4g

legs, and note the size of his cannon-bone. I can
candidly say I don't remember ever feeling any other
so large. He was by no means a tall horse, but very
strong ; and on this occasion looked remarkably well
and fit to run. He was afterwards beat in the Derby
by Blair Athol, to whom he again ran second for the
St. Leger.

His lordship had a large stud, but did little good
with any of them. The sires were indifferent and the
dams unfashionable, enough to account for the result.
His great delight was in match-making. In this
amusement he was a perfect fortune to the Admiral,
with whom he usually matched ; although he occa-
sionally threw away a slice of his good things in the
direction of others. He rarely seemed pleased with
winning ; a feat, indeed, which he seldom accom-
plished. But if he had a successful day, he would
make no match that night for the next day. On the
other hand, if beat any number of times, he would
match recklessly for the next day, and to the end of
the week.

His eccentricity was exhibited on one occasion
when, looking at one of the over-night handicaps at
Newmarket, he pointed out to the Admiral that he
was unfairly weighted in having at least a stone too
little on his horse, and wished the weight put up by
that much. The matter was rectified as he desired,
and the result proved that he was not far wrong, for
the horse was only beaten a short head. Would any-

1 5o MEN OF PAST DAYS.

one think of doing such a thing nowadays ? He
rarely bought or sold a horse ; and, in order to make
room for his annual number of yearlings, he would
shoot all he considered useless at the end of the
Houghton Meeting. He objected to name his horses,
and there was no end to the confusion caused by the
endless Barbatus and other colts, and Miss Whip
fillies. He was by no means a heavy better, though,
when Lord Kelborne, he lost a large stake over the
St. Leger — £27,000 — in Mameluke's year ; and this
loss, it may be, gave him a distaste to heavy wagering
in later days, when he kept horses of his own.
Though, when Lord George Bentinck had Gaper for
the Derby, and wanted a large bet, he accommodated
him by offering £90,000 to £30,000 against him ;
which bet, however, his lordship knew better than
accept — probably feeling at the time ' the old complaint
coming on again,' as the returned convict who had
been transported for theft remarked, in reply to the
inquiries as to whether his health had been benefited
by change of air and foreign scenery, when pocketing
his friend's silver snuff-box, which had been politely
handed to him for the use of its contents.

Lord Glasgow was hasty in temper, and when
irritated was not particular in his choice of words,
having, indeed, his own special vocabulary of peculiar
expletives. But his temper may have been largely
due to the fact that he was a martvr to acute neuralgia
in the back of his neck, which he was alwavs seen

LORD EXETER. 151

rubbing with one hand or the other. It is said
that when he won, he on several occasions gave the
stakes to Aldcroft, his favourite jockey ; but this, I
should think, wants confirmation. He left Mr. Scott
in an unmanly way, saying he did not want ' a
brougham trainer;' an inapt reflection, which probably
no one but his eccentric lordship could have con-
ceived. He was occasionally condoled with by some
ol his compeers on his extraordinary run of ill-luck ;
to which he would reply by saying, ' No one could
be unlucky that had £150,000 a year.' He had a
great number of named and unnamed brood-mares and
stallions, foals and yearlings at the time of his death,
besides his horses in training. These he bequeathed
to liis friends, the late General Peel and Mr. George
Payne, with a certain reservation that they were not
to be sold, but raced. They ran in the latter gentle-
man's name ; but, out of compliment to the donor,
always in the deceased nobleman's colours — red and
white.

Another notable personage was the late Lord
Exeter. He was a rather small man, and always
dressed in black. He was unfashionable enough to
wear a shirt- collar, and round this a necktie stiffly
starched was wound several times. The result was,
that it was impossible for his lordship to turn his
head without moving his whole body — a kind of
artificial severe stiff-neck. He would walk from one
end of the Newmarket Street to the other; and no

,i 5 2 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

matter how many heads were uncovered on his
approach, he would notice or acknowledge no one —
a manner which had the appearance, at least, of a
haughty contempt for his social inferiors. As was
the fashion in those clays with gentlemen who kept
racehorses, he bred most of his, and with fair success.
He began racing about the year 1817, and had the
following good horses, amongst others : Bed Gauntlet,
Green Mantle, Marinella, Sultan, and Abydos. In
later years he did not do much good until he bought
Stockwell of Mr. Theobald.

He kept his horses at Newmarket, and Mr. Harlock
was his trainer till he gave up racing about the year
1866. He lived during the meetings at Foley House,
and his trainer at Exeter House. Joined to each
establishment was a long covered ride, in which he
used to exercise his horses in wet or frosty weather,
and was thus enabled to watch them unmolested by
the touts, of whom he had a great abhorrence.
In racing he was extremely jDeculiar — too fond of
running and trying his horses, much against his
trainer's wishes ; but he was obdurate, and would
have his own way.

As a rule his stable-boys rode his horses in their
trials. One of them, Norman, was his jockey who
gained the unenviable sobriquet of ' The Post Boy.'
If his horses were beat in their races, Lord Exeter
would have them all tried over again the same even-
ing ; and if the result was not to his satisfaction he

LORD EXETER. 153

would try them again the next morning, notwith-
standing that some of them were engaged the same
day, and made to fulfil their engagements just the
same. As a natural result, his horses were often run
stale, and many of them broke down. But nothing
would prevent his running them, if sound, in any and
all of the stakes in which they were engaged, if he
thought he had the remotest chance of winning, and often
with no chance of doing so whatever. Except on one
occasion with the Duke of Portland, I never knew his
dividing a stake after a dead-heat, no matter whether
the tie had been, so far as his horse was concerned,
due to the merest accident, and the odds anything
ao'ainst his winning the deciding; event.

Lord Exeter's retirement from the turf, in I860,
was reported to be in consequence of the heavy loss
he sustained in making the Essendine Railway from
Peterborough to Stamford. He sold his horses
privately to Mr. Padwick. It was through the latter
I became possessed of some of them, the best of which
were Blue Rock and Flying Duchess, afterwards sold
to Lord Anglesey. She was in my stud at Alvediston,
and ultimately became the dam of Galopin, as I have
related. But I omitted to say that I bought Blue
Rock as unbroken, but afterwards learned that he had
been ridden, and turned out again. I do not for a
moment suppose his lordship knew of this, or that he
had any recollection of it if he did. But others could
not have been ignorant of the fact, and should have

i54 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

made it known, particularly the trainer. But it was
so, and I discovered it on his arrival at Woodyates by
the saddle-marks, which could be seen quite plainly.

I purchased the whole of Lord Exeter's property at
Newmarket of his agent, Mr. John Francis Clarke,
for £11,000, for Mr. Simpson the banker at Diss, and
owner of the breeding stud of that name. A curious
circumstance occurred on my doing this in the follow-
ing way : I bid Mr. Clarke £9,000 for it, the price
asked being £10,000; but, as a friend, he advised me,
if I really wanted to buy it, to give the price at once ;
for, he added, ' Lord Exeter is such a curious man to
deal with, he may say he won't sell it at all, or else put
the figure up.' But I did not quite see this, and bid
him the £9,000 again. In due course this offer was
refused, with the intimation that Lord Exeter would
not now take less than £11,000, confirming Mr.
Clarke's advice to the very letter. After consulting
Mr. Simpson, I took it at the enhanced price, and even
then it was very cheap. After the bargain was com-
pleted, his lordship requested, as a favour, to be
allowed to move the marble mantelpiece in the dining-
room, on which ' the Godolphin Arabian ' was sculp-
tured, he undertaking to replace it with a better. The
request was acceded to, and the promise fulfilled.
Lord Exeter, who in all his relations bore the
character of a strictly honourable man, was in all
connected with racing an example of integrity. He
lived respected, and died at a good old age.

SIR GILBERT HEATHCOTE. 155

Of another of the worthies of old, Sir Gilbert
Heathcote, I feel bound to record my humble testi-
mony in praise of an honourable career and many
acts of unselfishness. He was quite one of the old
'top-booted ' school in dress and manners; a thorough
Englishman of the best caste. He raced for the love
of the sport entirely, and for nothing else. He had
several horses, which were trained by Mr. Sherwood
on Epsom Downs, the stables being situated on the
hill opposite to the Grand Stand. His best horse, or
the one that did him the most good, and afforded him
the greatest amount of pleasure, was Amato, with
which he won the Derby in the year 1838. Strange
to say the horse was evidently lame at the time, like
Phosphorus, who won it the preceding year. If Sir
Gilbert betted at all, it was merely for the sake of
backing his opinion. When he won, he generally
gave the stakes to the poor in his neighbourhood,
thouo-h he did not forget to reward both his trainer
and his jockey.

Sir Gilbert was one esteemed by all, acquaintances
or friends. He lived at ' The Durdans ' near Epsom,
which Lord Rosebery has recently bought, and
where his lordship now resides. I should, perhaps,
tell that, besides his freehold estates, the late baronet
held some leasehold property on rather curious
terms. On the death of either of the tenants, not
only was a stipulated payment to be made, but also
a heriot in the good old form ; that is a tribute, not

156 MEN OF PAST DAYS.

in the shape of arms, but of '.the best beast.' It so
happened that at the time of Sir Gilbert's death, there
was on the premises a racehorse that had shown good
form. This was seized by the superior landlord, and
afterwards called Heriot. I remember that there was
a good deal of talk at the time as to the justice of the
action, it being condemned by some and justified by
others, according to the different views taken of it.

Baron J. de Teissier was one of Sir Gilbert's
staunchest, as he was perhaps his closest, friend.
They lived in the same neighbourhood, and were
seldom seen apart. • I do not remember that the Baron
ever kept any horses. As a rule he was, with Sir
Gilbert, one of the stewards at Epsom, the two being
owners of much of the land over which the races were
run. Though not an Englishman, he was one of
whose association with us in our national sports the
English nation was justly proud.

Lord Jersey, as a successful owner of racehorses,
was a little before my time. He used to farm the
Riddles worth, and many other good races at New-
market. He was generally dressed, as not a few
others were at the time, in a black or dark-coloured
suit, which was strangely in contrast with the Duke
of Portland's buckskin breeches or Lord George's
buckskin trousers. He must have been very success-
ful with his horses, Bay Middleton, Ccesai', and
Achmet out of his favourite mare Cobweb, and many
more, before I knew him. Amongst others, Glencoe

LORD JERSEY. 157

and Glenara did him good service. Yet he thought
that breeding did not pay, and it is, indeed,
reported that he once pithily, if severely, said, ' If
yon wish to do your bitterest enemy an injury, give
him a brood-mare well engaged in produce stakes,
with the promise to keep it, and in a few years his
ruin will be complete.' But I don't know about this
myself. I do not think that Mr. Batson, for instance,
who bred Plenipotentiary at Horse Heath, or Mr.
Thornhill, of Riddlesworth, who had Emilius and
Euclid, and other breeders in 'those days ; or, more
recently, Sir Joseph Hawley and Lord Falmouth ;
or Mr. Chaplin in the present time, would be in-
clined to agree with him in this opinion.

Lord Jersey, I should say, in conclusion, was well
served by his jockey, Mr. James Robinson, and by
his trainer, Mr. Ransom. The latter, after his
lordship's death, became the stud-groom at the Royal
Paddocks, Hampton Court, where he lived many
years, respected by all who knew him, and retaining
his primitive style of dress to the end.

CHAPTER X.

MR. PARKER.

Varied experiences — Commences racing — Purchase of One Act —
Her trial and our expectations — How defeated — Forestalled
and struck out. Running at Chester ; remarkable dream — Joe
Miller in the Metropolitan — Winnings on the Chester Cup —
Mistake as to his condition — Brigantine another example — A
perilous journey — How Joe Miller was ruined — Noisy, ill-luck
in the Chester Cup — Cedric— Sutherland's luck and subsequent
failure — Tame Deer in the Northampton Cup — Confidence of
his new owner, but well beaten — Bird on the Wing — Her chance
in the Oaks — Sam Rogers and Frank Butler — A revelation in
fashionable jockeys.

The gentleman of whose doings I shall attempt to
give some account in this and the following chapter,
was not one who deserves a prominent notice on
account of high birth or the achievement of daring-
deeds by sea or land. Yet he was a character who,
in the racing world, stood conspicuous for many
virtues deserving of recognition.

' Honour and shame from no condition rise ;
Act well your part, there all the honour lies,'

is an axiom which was carried out in his career.
Mr. Joseph Parker was the son of a large farmer

PURCHASE OF 'ONE ACT: 159

near Chester, and a successful man in all his business
undertakings. He lived a curious life, and did many
things worthy of note outside of his career on the
turf, with which I was intimately connected. As we
may, I think, learn a good deal from his experiences
in racing, I propose first to deal with the perform-
ances of some of his horses, and leave his personal
characteristics and his doings in other directions for
notice after I have said what I have to say on the
former topic.

He commenced racing in partnership with Mr.
Farrance, an old friend of his, in 1849. In the
following year my father bought Joe Miller, at the
Newmarket July meeting, for them and Mr. Pad-
wick, giving £300 for him. The horse was then
about as big as a good- sized foal, and remained a
pony until the day of his death, like most of the
Venison produce, who himself, whilst running, was
little larger. Mr. Parker had few horses then. In
fact, he never had a large stud, scarcely more than
half a dozen at a time. The following are the names
of some of his horses : Teddy, Aldford, Grosvenor,
Cardinal Wiseman, Cedric, Sutherland, Tame Deer,
Noisy, One Act, Joe Miller, and Avenger.

One Act, originally the Extravaganza filly, and
thus neatly named, I bought at Mr. Johnstone's sale
at Doncaster for 300 guineas, as the joint property
of Messrs. Parker, Farrance, and myself. She was
low and long, with plenty of substance, but stood

i6o MR. PARKER.

rather upright in her fore-legs, in which she gave
way after winning the Chester Cup. One Act and Joe
Miller were the two most successful horses Mr. Parker
ever owned, either in part or wholly. And their vic-
tories in his native county, in the race of the meeting
— the Chester Cup — where he was on both occasions
surrounded by friends and neighbours, considerably
heightened his delight at his success, independently
of the fact of winning a large stake on each horse.

In One Act we soon knew we had a treasure ;
although, from circumstances now to be related, Ave
had not the opportunity of winning all the races that
we might have won, had we been more favoured with
luck. She stayed well, and, as a two-year-old, was
tried with the three-year-old Sultan, at 22 lb., a mile
and a distance, and beat him. This would have
made her, as a two-year-old, the winner of the Cam-
bridgeshire at 5 st. 12 lb. So, when the handicaps
for next year came out, with the mare in the Chester
Cup at 4 st. 3 lb., which would be like putting Sultan
in as a four-year-old at 6 st., it not only looked a
good thing, but made the race our own on paper.
She was entered in all five of the Spring Handicaps —
the City and Suburban, Metropolitan, Great Northern,
Flying Dutchman Stakes at York, and the Chester
Cup. And assuredly she would, bar accidents, have
won the whole of them, had she started for the two
first ; but this she was prevented doing in the
following way.

FORESTALLED BY OUR PARTNER. 161

In the spring I wrote to Mr. Parker and asked
him to come and see the mare tried, which he did.
On his arrival he said, in his good-natured way :

' I hope you have got the money on well.'

' Me !' I answered, more earnestly than, perhaps,
correctly, in my surprise. ' What do you mean ?'

' Why,' he rejoined, ' the mare is the first favourite
in both races ' (the City and Suburban and the
Metropolitan), ' and I thought you might have backed
her for us and yourself too.'

' No,' I said in reply ; ' I have never seen or heard
her name mentioned till now.'

Nor had I, as I only took in the weekly papers.

'It's Teddy' (referring to Mr. Farrance), he said;
' he has been in communication with the boy I told
you of, and now I hope you will be satisfied, and
believe what is so clear to everyone but yourself.'

Thus it appeared our chance, at the time, had been
wrecked by the action of our own partner. The mare
was, however, beat in her trial, and, without any
assistance of ours, was driven out of the betting. But
Ave thought the trial was wrong, and tried her again
in a few days, and found that it was so; for on a second
attempt she beat Tame Deer, giving him 18 lb., the
other two being tailed off a long way. But before
Mr. Parker got my letter, and could act on it, he
found she was made favourite again, and would not
back her at the short price obtainable. In the end she
did not run, though we took her to the meeting in

11

1 62 MR. PARKER.

the hope that there might be a chance of placing a fair
bet. But it was no good, and at the last minute she
"was struck out, whilst those who had forestalled us
were led to believe that she would not be run until
the latter end of the year. This had the desired effect,
and to their utter discomfiture we were enabled to
back her for all we wanted for the other three races
named, all of which she won.

Mr. Parker was much blamed at the time for
leaving her in to the last moment. But he would
have run her if he could ; and as he could in no other
way protect himself, he adopted the only honourable
course. With respect to the Chester Cup, the mare
ran in the Palatine Stakes the first day, and was beat
by Theodora, much to our surprise and disappoint-
ment. Yet, as it turned out, this was one of the most
fortunate circumstances that could have happened for
us; for it drove her from 5 to 1 to 20 to 1 in the
betting for her race (the Cup) next day. After coolly
thinking the matter out, I said to Mr. Parker that
her defeat a mile and a quarter by a fast mare like
Theodora did not amount to much after all ; for that
she [One Act) was much better at two miles and a
quarter, a distance that many of her opponents would
not like. So I recommended him to take £2,000 to
£100 about her two or three times, as he was sure to
have good hedging before the start, as well as a good
race for his money. But he waited, and could only
get 15 to 1 to £200, for which he backed her. She

REMARKABLE DREAM. 163

never reached a better price than 12 to 1, so neither
he nor I hedged a penny; which we both should have
done had she come back to the old price, on the prin-
ciple that ' no bet is a good one until it is hedged.'

The night before the race was run I had a remark-
able dream, worth relating because of its accurate
fulfilment. I dreamt One Act won, and William
Goater was second after a good race, and that I told
him after they had passed the winning-post that I
thought I had won. To which he hastily replied :
' You know you have.' And walking up the course
together, he said : ' You have done me out of the
best stake I ever stood.' This dream I told to some
ten or a dozen gentlemen during breakfast the next
morning at the inn at which I was staying — Mr. Parker
himself being; amongst them. After saddling the mare,
I stood close by the winning-post to see the race, and
as soon as she passed it the third time, I thought my
mare had won. I said to the judge:

' What has won, Mr. Johnstone ?'

'White!' he replied; and then looking up, added:
'Oh, you, Mr. Day!"

Strange to say, William Goater was standing by
my side all the time, quite unobserved by me, until,
turning round to go and meet the mare, I found
mvself face to face with him.

And as we walked up together to meet our
respective horses, he said :

' I stood more money on mine to day than I ever

11—2

1 64 MR. PARKER.

stood before, and have lost a large stake ;' thus abso-
lutely fulfilling my dream to the very letter.

I have already in these pages had something to say
of Joe Miller, but have much left to tell of his other
performances. In the Metropolitan Stakes he was
unlucky, losing the race by being interfered with by
Miss Ann in coining round Tattenham Corner. It
was not, however, a specially lucky thing for the
jockey who interfered with him. For he, not know-
ing that Mr. Merry had backed Joe Miller for a lot of
money, told that gentleman what he had done with
some glee, and greatly to Mr. Merry's annoyance, as
he told Mr. Parker afterwards. But they both had
their revenge, and the stable also, in the Chester Cup.
Mr. Parker entirely for himself, independent of the
commission, took the following bets from Davis, the
Leviathan; 25 monkeys to 1, or £12,500 to £500;
and again, 12 monkeys to 1 against him for the
Emperor's Cup at Ascot, both of which he literally
won in a trot — though the last victory was more
owing to his being well and the state of the ground
than to any merit of his own. But, under any cir-
cumstances, it is a pleasant thing to win of one pro-
fessional £18,500 in bets in the course of a couple
of months on one horse, and get it paid (free of duty).
In those days you did not see only three or four horses
brought to the post to run for valuable cups, nor half
a score contending for the Chester Cup or other big-
handicaps. For the Cup in Joe Miller's year there

'JOE MILLERS" CONDITION. 165

were no fewer than forty-three runners, and thirty
runners in One Act's year.

A good deal was said of Joe Miller s condition, or
rather of his appearance before this race. Mr. Parker
advised his friend Captain Brabazon to back him; and
this the latter assuredly would have done, only
happening to see the horse just before entering the
saddling paddock, looking, as he said, so wretchedly
bad, he altered his mind; and instead sought out
Parker, and began abusing him for recommending
him to back a creature that could scarcely walk round
the ring, much less gallop the course. These hasty
words would have led to blows, but for the timely
interference of friends. After the race, the captain, as
meek then as he had been furious before, had the
good sense to offer an ample and acceptable apology.
The truth is, as 1 afterwards heard others say, when
the horse came into the enclosure his coat Avas staring
or reversed, which made him look bad to a non-
professional eye. Gentlemen can understand a horse
setting up his coat ' like quills upon the fretful porcu-
pine ' in cold weather ; but they do not know that
the hottest sun has often just the same effect on the
animal when in the best of health and fit to run.

The same thing exactly happened to Brigantine at
Ascot, when she won the Cup. People said even to
myself that ' they did not think she looked very well.'
To which I replied :

' Mine seldom do in other people's eyes.'

1 66 MR. PARKER.

Sir Frederick Johnstone himself, at the last
moment, came to me and said :
' William, is the mare all right ?'
' Yes, Sir Frederick,' I replied ; and he went
straight a^ain to the rino- and backed her for more
money. After the race he came to me, and, looking
at the mare, said he could not think how so much
fault could be found with her condition, as he thought
he never saw her looking better. And so did everyone
else then ; but, before the race, his friends and the
busy bodies had told him that she looked wretched,
and was overdone. In fact, they discovered that she
had had a tremendous gallop, two miles and a half,
the day before, with Comet, a horse that could never
get over a mile in his life. It turned out all very
well, as she won ; but what would they all have
thought if she had been beat ? and what kind things
would they not have said of me ?

Before concluding my account of Joe Miller s per-
formances, I may perhaps relate how he went to
Chester, and what befell him on his return journey
home. After taking his gallop at four a.m., he came
back to the stable, was done and done up, and, at
eleven o'clock, entered his van (a double one), and
started for Cheltenham, where he arrived in the
evening, and slept the night. ' He reached Chester in
the afternoon on Tuesday, and cantered over the
course after the races were over that day. He
returned home by rail, and though the van had

HOW 'JOE MILLER' WAS RUINED. 167

passed under the gauge for testing the height, jet
it came into contact with one of the arches with
great violence ; and had not the roof given way, the
van, or the truck it was standing on, must have been
thrown off the rails, and most likely the boy, or the
horse, or both of them, have been killed. As, how-
ever, it passed several stations and under innumerable
bridges after the accident, the stationmaster at the
next stoppage decided there could be no further
danger, and let it proceed at the railway company's
risk; and to the matter ended harmlessly.

Joe Miller, as a five-year-old, was again well in for
the Chester Cup, and we thought would win it ; and,
but for an accident, I think even now he probably
would have done so. As an account of the accident
may serve as a useful warning, I will briefly relate
the particulars. It happened between seven and eight
o'clock in the evening ; for at the latter hour the
horse was found with his head in the manner, lookino-
dispirited and thoroughly unwell. On examination
we discovered a large bump on his poll, and the
horse, in fact, insensible. The injury was caused, I
do not doubt, from his having his head under the
manger, and then raising it quickly, and coming into
contact with the sharp edge of the under part of it.
We had unfortunately backed him for some money,
and were only able to save a portion of it. And
worse, the horse, though he ran again, was never
himself afterwards. Here ivas an accident no one

1 68 MR. PARKER.

could have foreseen. We were wiser after the event,
no doubt, which for the first time showed the advis-
ability of having the manger boarded to the ground
perpendicularly.

Noisy, another horse in which Mr. Parker was
interested, was a good but unlucky animal. I bought
him for 100 guineas, when General Anson, on leaving
England, sold his horses at Tattersalls'. He was nearly
seventeen hands high, with very powerful limbs, and
action like a pony's. He ran in the Chester Cup
when Scythian won it, in 1855, the year Nancy broke
her leg and was shot. But he had no fair chance.
]So boy could ride him in a crowd of other horses,
and particularly over a circular course like Chester,
the cock-pit of courses. This was most clearly proved
in two ways. When tried at home he beat Nabob at
18 lb., and, in the race, Nabob gave him 2 st. 12 lb.
and beat him. Comino- round the last turn but one
he had won in a canter, being many lengths first, and
all the rest beat. But the little boy on him could
neither hold him nor turn him ; and instead of going
round the last bend he went straight into the corner
and stopped short, and cantered up after the others
had passed him. He did this from no vice, but
simply because he did not know where to go, and the
boy could not guide him. The next day he won
the Dee Stakes easily, though only by half a length,
beating such good horses as Lord Alfred, Lady Tatton,
and Correobus ; the latter last, although but a short

ILL-LUCK FOR 'NOISY: 169

time before he had run second for the Metropolitan
Stakes. This result proved that if Noisy had only
run up to his form, as shown both in the race and in
his trial, he would have won the Cup. A similar
disappointment, and one due to the same cause, want
of proper control, met him in the Qity and Suburban
at Epsom. Here, in company with another horse, he
got away and ran the whole of the course through
and into the paddock before he could be stopped ; and
even then was third in the race itself. If Noisy had
not run in the Dee Stakes — and I was strongly
opposed to his running, wishing to keejD him for the
Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire — all the world would
have said he was a bad horse, and that I had mistaken
his form. Curiously, like Dulcamara, on his return
from Chester he was a confirmed roarer, and neither
could beat anything afterwards.

With Cedric, for which he gave =£50, Mr. Parker
was more fortunate. Though a bad horse, he won
the Somersetshire Stakes at Bath, beating Pole Star
and several others in a common canter, and was then'
sold to Lord William Powlett for 1,100 guineas, with
his engagements ; none of which, nor any other, did
he ever win for his new owner. Sutherland, again,
may be classed with the lucky division ; for, though
a bad one, not within two stone of a racehorse, yet
in the Doncaster Stakes he ran second to Cape Fly-
away at even weights, beating St. Albans, the winner
of the St. Leger, at 10 lb., and Wizard, who ran

i7o MR. PARKER.

third, at 5 lb. How he could do this I never could
make out ; for Dulcibella could give him two stone
before he ran for it, and did so on his return to
Woodyates. Yet directly after the race all the world
knew, except myself, that I had thrown away both
the Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire in consequence
of my not having entered him for them.

The fact is, although I forgot to mention it to any-
one else besides Mr. Parker, Sutherland had been sent
to Doncaster for the sole purpose of finding out how
good or how bad he might be, in order that I might
have a line for Dulcibella from his running. And,
notwithstanding his excellent performance there, we
sold him to Mr. Campbell Wyndham, with the con-
dition that he was not to leave my stable until after
the Royal Stakes at Newmarket, half of which the
vendor was to have if he won. He won the race and
left me, but was never afterwards a winner. Here
was another mystery. How was it that in this race
he could beat horses that could run, such as Baron
"Rothschild's King of Diamonds, the winner of several
races, and Mr. Merry's Trovatore, who won six races
that year, and yet, being the soundest horse in
England, his owner could find no race which he could
win ?

Tame Deer won several little races. He once
beat the redoubtable Fisherman at 3 lb., at Lincoln,
to which place he had been sent merely to get a
line for One Act for the Spring Handicaps. He

< TA ME DEER ' AT NOR THA MPT ON. 1 7 1

was afterwards beaten at Northampton, in the Cap.
But on this occasion he was pulled up before reaching
the distance, the jockey saying he had gone the wrong
side of a post. But as, on a minute examination by
both Mr. Parker and myself of the spot indicated, no
tracks whatever could be discovered on the wrono-
side of the post, he must have told an untruth. The
matter ended ; but not without, as might well be
expected, creating some unpleasantness between
owner and jockey ; and more especially as we had
particularly wished to have the horse ridden out, in
order to know his form. However, we saw he ran
sufficiently well till nearing the distance to know he
stayed, and had sufficient speed to try anything a
distance of ground. So, with two others in to correct
them, he was tried with One Act at 18 lb., and she
beat him two lengths, two and a quarter miles; and I
always looked upon them as equal at 21 lb. She
once tried to give him 2-1 lb., and was defeated a
length after a good race two miles and a quarter.

Tame Deer was afterwards sold to Mr. Mellish (an
assumed name of Mr. Edward Smith, many years
turf correspondent of BeWs Life), who bought him, I
believe, on what he was told or saw of the race for
the Northampton Cup, above referred to. When he
became the property of his new owner, ]ike most
horses that fall into the hands of sanguine people
possessed of not much racing knowledge, it was soon
discovered that the horse had improved 21 lb., and

172 MR. PARKER.

that there was no horse like him. So enthusiastic
were his supporters that the world would have come
to think there must be some truth in this wild report,
if it had not been for the irony of facts. In 1857, at
Wolverhampton, Fisherman gave him 20 lb. and a
o-ood beating. In I860 Petra beat him for the Chester
Cup and the Steward's Cup, for which latter he {Tame
Pee?') was favourite at 5 to 2. Besides, I beat him
myself with St. Giles, for the Northamptonshire
Stakes. But no one could then or can now get over
the fact that, when I had him, he beat Fisherman at
3 lb. ; and afterwards, when said to be so much better,
Fisherman gave him 20 lb., and beat him — a thing
which One Act could always do, and Fisherman, no
doubt, was 7 lb. or 10 lb. better than she was, which
would make public running and private trials tally.

I may here refer to Bird on the Wing, because,
though never Mr. Parker's property, she was run in
his name. She belonged to a good -hearted and very
nice fellow, a Mr. Dalton, steward of Arthur's Club.
How he became possessed of her I don't know ; but,
as she was his as a two-year-old, I should think most
likely he bought her as a yearling of the breeder,
Mr. R. Wright, of Richmond, Yorkshire. In her
first race as a two-year- old Bird on the Wing was
evidently thought much of, as she was favourite at
2 to 1, but was unplaced. This was in the Prince of
Wales's Stakes, at York, won by Mr. Merry's Filly by
Ithnriel, afterwards called Sally, who started at 6 to 1.

'BIRD ON THE WING: 173

This led to Mr. Milner laying Mr. Merry the heavy
wager of £5,000 that Bird on the Wing beat Sally in
the next year's Oaks. Afterwards she appears to
have run quite as badly in several races, but finished
up by winning a little race at Northallerton Autumn
Meeting, beating three others, with odds of 7 to 4
on her.

Early the next year she came to me through Mr.
Parker ; and her doings whilst in my hands are of
special interest, as exhibiting the eccentricities, to use
a mild term, of your fashionable jockey. She was a
nice clever mare, rather small ; and, if she had a fault
in shape, stood rather upright on her pasterns. We
tried her just before the Oaks, and she beat Joe
Miller a mile and a half at even weights, and two
others ; which made her look to have a good chance
for that event. Sam Rogers rode her in it, and, as
was evident to many, lost the race. As the prevalent
belief was that he did this purposely, he was mobbed
on his return to the weighing-stand, and with difficulty
got safely into the enclosure. He told me he had lost
the race by not making use enough of the mare. But,
as my instructions to him were to make a good pace
the whole of the way, he could give no satisfactory
reason why he should not have made the best of her.

The story then pretty freely circulated, but with
what truth I am unable to say, was to the effect that
Frank Butler had, in the winter, taken a very laro-e
bet that he won both the Derby and Oaks that year.

i74 MR. PARKER.

He had won the first on Daniel O'Bourke, beating such
good horses as StockweU, Kingston, and Hobbie Noble,
which in itself must be regarded as rather a curious
performance — indeed quite unaccountable, considering
that StockweU had beaten him in the Two Thousand,
and that he had previously been beaten by two or
three others ; and that, after winning the Derby, he
{Daniel O'Ronrke) was beaten at York by a horse
like Frantic ; again at Doncaster, in the St. Leger, by
StockweU and Harbinger ; and in the Triennial Stakes
at Newmarket by Robbie Noble and Adine ; and ran
a worse horse in the following year. If this be public
running, what is to be said in favour of it ? Who will
suppose that many of the good horses I have men-
tioned as running in the Derby showed their true
form in it? I think no one. As for the Oaks, the
betting was sufficient, in my opinion, to show how
the land lay ; and that Bird on the Wing was not
very likely to win. On the morning of the race she
was second favourite at 4 to 1 ; and although we kept
backing her, she ominously receded to 15 and 20 to 1.
And, as will be seen, her subsequent running, with
stable-boys up, showed plainly enough that she was
much the best mare in the race, and ought to have
won it, and easy too.

After this race, I asked Mr. Dalton never to let a
jockey ride her again, but to put one of our stable-
boys up. She went the next week to Manchester, and
won the Produce Stakes, to which there were fifty-six

TWO FASHIONABLE JOCKEYS. 175

subscribers, in a canter, beating six others, little Hiett
riding her. She next ran at York. Here a telegram
arrived for ine just before going on the course from
Mr. Dalton, asking me to get Frank Butler to ride
her, which I did. At this Sam Rogers was furious,
and wanted to know why he could not ride her. I
simply said, ' Because Mr. Dalton has instructed me
to get Frank Butler.' Notwithstanding this, he was
extremely rude and abusive, saying he knew I had
prevented him from riding her. So far he was right,
but there was no good in my telling him so. I told
Frank the mare was a little slow, and wanted a good
pace; and if nothing else made it, he was to do so
himself. To which he said, ' Very well.' The pace
was bad, and he never went near his horses first or
last, and pulling-up opposite the grand-stand, was a
bad third. In this race probably the principle of
reciprocity embodied in the axiom that ' one good
turn deserves another ' was worked out. If Sam
served Frank at Epsom, Frank served Sam at York.
And yet the combined skill of these two wonderful
jockeys was insufficient to make the public believe in
the honesty of either; and without such a result, what
was their talent worth? — not a fig.

Naturally, after weighing, I had an interview with
Frank Butler, and he gave as an excuse that the
mare had lost her form, and had gone a roarer. I
replied that if she had it was since the morning; to
which he rejoined that she could beat nothing, in the

176 MR. PARKER.

hope, I imagine, that I would not run her again — at
that meeting at any rate. He stood some little time im-
pressing this upon me, and rubbing, as was his wont,
his full-grown mahogany -coloured nasal organ. I was,
I need not say, much annoyed at the mare's running
in this race — the Yorkshire Oaks. I was determined
to test its accuracy and learn if there was any truth
in Frank's statement, and so put her in the Queen's
Plate on Friday. In this she met Hesse Homburg,
who was first favourite at 5 to 2, having only recently
won the Brighton Stakes, beating a large field, and
Frank was on her. The result of the race is soon
told — for Bird on the Wing made play directly after
starting, was never headed, and won in the most lazy
way imaginable by two lengths. The mare did not
show any symptoms of roaring, nor Frank any sign
of truthfulness when he said she roared and was
out of form. Harry Goater rode her in the Park Hill
at Doncaster, which she won as she did her other
races — in a trot. In this, among others, she met
Sally again, and could have positively walked by the
post and won. Her performance, indeed, so frightened
Mr. .John Scott, that he came and offered me half the
Doncaster Stakes, if Long Bow won it, not to run her;
an offer which I readily accepted, and so got £410
for keeping her in the stable. This was a piece of
sheer luck, as she had a bad leg and could not
have run a second race that day if we had not
compromised.

A DISGUSTED OWNER. 177

Mr. Dalton after this never kept another racehorse-
But why he should have left the turf, I am at a loss
to conceive. For, notwithstanding his many disap-
pointments with Bird on the Wing as a two-year-old,
and her defeat after she came into my hands, the next
year, in two good races like the Oaks and the York-
shire Oaks, his career was successful. But perhaps,
like myself, he was disgusted with the performances
of the fashionable jockey, as set forth in these
revelations.

12

CHAPTER XL

mr. parker (continued).

Joins his uncle in London — ' The pace that kills ' — Evenings at
Owen Swift's — Buying a watch — Skill with the gloves — London
' life ' as it was — A good stock — Excellent judgment of racing
— An objection sustained — Jockeys and amateurs — Nearly
' done ' by a welsher — An instance of enforced restitution — ■
His belief in condition — Analogy from dog-training — Fights
between ' Pincher ' and ' Bullet ' — Admiral Rous on Cedric's
condition — Mr. Parker's belief in 'Farce,' and our parting —
His life in retirement.

I now propose, as I promised, to relate something
about Mr. Parker personally. He was, as I have said,
the son of Mr. Parker, of Aldford, near Churton,
Cheshire, a large dairy and stock farmer, under the
then Marquis of Westminster. The son, Joseph, not
caring for country life, came early to London, where
he lived many years with his uncle, at No. 8, Lower
John Street, Golden Square ; and on the death of that
relative succeeded to the business, which he carried
on profitably. He worked at it indefatigably indeed,
being seldom in bed after five o'clock in the morn-
ing, having to be at his wharf with his men at
half-past.

EVENINGS AT OWEN SWIFTS. 179

The uncle himself was a character in his way. He
was a man of great constitutional strength, and, as such
men often are, a hard liver. He would not have his
clothes off, except occasionally to change them, for a
week at a time, seldom getting into bed at all during
that period, except on Sunday. He used to dine out,
and after partaking liberally of wine and spirits, would
return home about three in the morning, and retire to
his cellar, and there finish a bottle of gin palatably
diluted with water. Then, after a refreshing wash, he
would betake himself to business. This kind of life
he carried on with little variation for several years;
though he did not live very long, thus fully confirm-
ing the adage that ' it is the pace that kills.'

In the later part of his life the nephew often went
with him, and thus no doubt acquired a taste for
good living, fast life, and late hours, which he retained
until he left business altogether. In his time, Owen
Swift was in his heyday at the Horse Shoe, Tich-
borne Street, which, like other familiar places, has
since been improved off the face of the earth. This
was Mr. Parker's nightly resort, where he had his
brandy and soda or other stimulant with his old
chums. Here he would meet Tass Parker (one of the
fancy, and no relative) ; Mr. Dale, a very good
fellow; Dick Forester, in the police force; and about
a score of the same sort. They would break-up about
two o'clock in the morning; and it was a rare occur-
rence if they left without having a fight. And yet

12 2

i So MR. PARKER.

from habit, Mr. Parker, as I have said, was seldom
late at his business.

It was here that the following incident occurred :
A nephew of Mr. Parker's, a Mr. Upton, used, like his
uncle, to spend an hour or two most nights in the
bar-parlour of the Horse Shoe. A gentlemanly
stranger, well dressed in black, joined the group one
evening, and seating himself by Mr. Upton's side,
entered into conversation with him on some current
topic. He continued to put in an appearance for a
few nights, and then became more familiar, acquaint-
ing Mr. Upton with the melancholy and dire cir-
cumstances attending the death of his father; winding
up by saying:

' The dear old man has left me his watch ; but as I
have one already, it is no use to me, and I should be
glad to sell it, as the money will be more serviceable.'

He asked some ridiculously low price for it, con-
sidering the watch was really a good one, and Mr.
Upton made him a bid for it, and got it ; the seller
disappearing, and not being seen again. The watch
was the next morning sent to be cleaned and set
going ; but was detained by the watchmaker, who
stated that it had been stolen, and that he was bound
to give notice to the police that the watch had come
into his hands. The day after, a policeman called on
Mr. Upton, and said :

' Unless, sir, you can tell me of whom you bought
the watch, I must take you into custody.'

BUYING A WATCH.

iai

He (Mr. Upton) related the circumstances con-
nected with the purchase. But as he did not know
the person's name, could not give it, and walked off
with the policeman on his way to the station. But
just before arriving there, he met the man and gave
him into custody, and of course was at once liberated.
The thief, I may add, was duly tried and convicted.
Mr. Upton's experience in the matter must have
taught him the need of caution in dealing with a
stranger.

Mr. Parker's association in the afternoon as well as
evening with a jovial little fellow like Owen Swift,
gave him a taste for boxing; and he became, I believe,
one of the best amateurs of his day in England.
Though by no means bad-tempered naturally, at
times when he had taken a little to drink he was
inclined to be quarrelsome, and would then fight any-
one, though he were big as a giant. But he was by
no means averse to having ' a set-to ' with anyone at
any time for the love of the science, and seldom got
the worst in the encounter. On one occasion he had
a few words with a tailor, which ended in an un-
decided battle that lasted nearly all the afternoon.

I am reminded, when I call to mind Mr. Parker and
his doings in those clays, of the change that has come
over our habits. If there be fast living in the present
day, it is carried on in a different way. Then was, in
fact, the era of fast living; and the turning of a large
portion of the night into day. After dinner came the

MR. PARKER.

theatre; then the Casino or Evans's, to hear the mighty
chorus and sup; next the Cider Cellars, or the Coal
Hole, where Chief Baron Nicholson tried all the
crim.-con. cases over again, and displayed his tableaux
vivants. After twelve or one a.m., Bennett might be
seen with his lovely ' rose ' in his retreat in Jermyn
Street, where an unrivalled collection of female beauty
was always on view, displaying their delicate charms
in the most attractive way until daylight appeared.
In Panton Street, and in other houses in the Hay-
market, amusements could be found for all classes or
any age, to suit their respective tastes and pockets.
Thence the pleasure-seekers would repair to that
pandemonium known as Regent Quadrant, where at
night and early morning could be seen persons of all
degrees — reputable and disreputable, old and young,
of both sexes — in various stages of inebriety, whose
pursuits it is scarcely healthful to describe. Such
were some of the nightly amusements with which in
those days it was thought no disgrace to be identi-
fied. Others would prefer an evening at Ben Caunt's,
Johnny Broom's, or Owen Swift's, to whose places most
men of fashion would repair just for the last glass.
Cock-fighting, badger-baiting, and man-fighting, in
all their hideousness, could be provided on the
shortest notice. With the razing of the Quadrant to
the ground, and the closing of the public-houses at
12.30, the night-houses were done away with, and the
worst features of this ' life ' swept away ; and it can

A GOOD STOCK. 183

scarcely be that any more sensible steps were ever
taken by the guardians of the public peace and
morals.

Mr. Parker's courage, as I have shown, was un-
doubted. In fact, as we say in racing parlance, he
came of a good stock, and was well-bred for a pugilist.
His father delighted in the science, and used to thrash
his farm labourers if they offended him in anything.
The old man broke his thigh after he was sixty
years old, and amputation of the leg followed. But
he recovered, and with the assistance of a wooden
limb and a crutch he used to attend Chester market
most weeks, and had several battles there. He would
throw away his crutch, and plant his back against a
wall (if one could be found), and hit his opponents
with such terrific force that they soon gave in. Mr.
Parker himself was in height about 5 feet 11 inches,
and weighed twelve stone. He walked extremely
upright in rather a swaggering style, and cared for no
man. At the age of twenty his hair was quite grey
— a peculiarity of the family — and soon after became
white. He received a liberal education at a grammar
school in the neighbourhood, at Farndon, and amongst
other accomplishments wrote a splendid hand. In all
business transactions he was precise, and paid his
training and other accounts with punctuality to a
penny.

Mr. Parker was a prudent man in every sense of
the word, and remarkably free from prejudice. On

1 84 MR. PARKER.

any matter on which he was not thoroughly informed
of his own knowledge, he would listen with deference
to the arguments of those whom he thought more
likely to know than himself, and would act on the
advice so received. When he had made up his mind,
he would bet boldly. He preferred to run his horses
mostly for the big handicaps ; knowing well two things:
First, that on no other description of races could so
much money be won; and secondly, that horses that
might be good enough to win such events, were not
good enough to contend successfully with the best
horses in weight-for-age races. In this he showed
that he knew as well where to place his horses as
when to back them. I should, however, say that he
won one good weight-for-age race — the Ascot Cup.
On one point he was most determined; and nothing
would ever drive him from his settled conviction. He
believed that what he saw in a trial was the correct
form, no matter how completely an opinion so formed
might be upset by the result of the race itself. And
in this belief he was generally right; the race being
more often wrong than the trial — a fact which was
proved to demonstration by subsequent performances
over and over again.

He was a man of strict honour and integrity ; and
enjoyed a reputation for talent, which was justly
bestowed, as proved on many occasions. He seldom
made an objection; but when he did, he generally
sustained it. In the Spring Meeting of 1858 at Ilsley,

JOCKEYS AND AMATEURS. 185

when Avenger ran second to Sir L. Newman's Supple
Jack, he objected to the latter on the ground that he
had gone the wrong side of a post, as he manifestly
had done to all beholders. Yet, after the stewards
heard the case, it was given in favour of ' the winner.'
Mr. Parker gave notice to the clerk of the course to
withhold the stakes, and the case was afterwards
brought before the stewards of the Jockey Club at
Bath, who decided as follows, viz. :

' Having heard the evidence in this case, we are of
opinion that the owner of the horse that came in
second' (Mr. Parker) 'is entitled to the Stewards'
Plate.

(Signed) 'Beaufort,

' William Powlett,

' H. Rous (for Lord Anglesey).'

It was Mr. Parker who protested against the in-
justice of the rule that prohibited jockeys from riding
in races specially open to gentlemen-riders ; and it was
through his pertinacity, by the aid of Mr. C. C. Greville,
that the restriction was revoked, and jockeys allowed
to ride carrying 5 lb. extra. The complaint sprang
out of an incident that occurred at Bibury, through
the extraordinary running of one of his horses which
he had backed, and thought would most likely win;
but she was last, or nearly so. He entered her again
the next day, and she ran with many of the same

1 86 MR. PARKER.

horses, and at the same difference of weight over the
same course, with a professional up, and won easily
— which justified his conduct in the action he had
taken.

I never remember his having but one dispute about
a bet; and this was at Shrewsbury, under the follow-
ing circumstances : Mr. Parker offered to take five
j^onies to one about a horse he was running, and some
one said, ' Done, Mr. Parker!' and gave the name of
' Jones,' and made his exit from the ring as quickly
as possible for fear of recognition. The horse was
beat; and the next morning the money was claimed.

' Why,' said Parker, ' you are not Jones. I never
laid the bet with you !'

' Oh yes, you did, Mr. Parker,' says the fellow ;
' and here it is in my book,' pointing to the entry.

It then flashed across Mr. Parker's mind that he
had been ' done,' a tiling which of all thinsrs he ob-
jected to. Thus irate, he expressed himself in most
emphatic terms, and catching poor little ' Jones ' by
the throat, said :

' I'll kick you all round the ring, you vagabond!'
a threat which so terrified the fellow, that he cried out
aloud for mercy, and promised he would tell him all,
if only he would let him go.

' It was Quince that laid you the bet,' explained the
culprit when allowed to speak; 'and he said if I could
get it, he would give me £5, for he felt sure you
would know him if he came for it himself.'

ENFORCED RESTITUTION. 187

Now ' Quince ' was the nickname of a stable-boy
who had won a lot of money over a horse so called in
the Goodwood Stakes. On this occasion Mr. Parker's
action was effective, for neither ' Jones ' nor ' Quince '
was seen in the vicinity of the ring for the remainder
of the week.

He had, as most people have, a strong aversion to
being welshed ; not, I think, that he ever was so
nearly done as on the occasion named. But he hated
the whole tribe, and showed this detestation in a
marked manner when, at another time, one of these
gentry had lost and forgotten to pay his nephew,
Mr. Thomas Upton, £15 the week before, and when
confronted by his creditor, repudiated all knowledge
of the transaction. Mr. Parker was a man of few
words, and went straight to the fellow in the ring at
Goodwood, where he was betting in tens and fifties.

' This gentleman,' said Parker to him, and pointing
to Mr. Upton, ' wants £15 of you for last week.'

'Me?'

' Yes, you.'

' Why, I don't know the man ; never saw him
before ; and was ill in bed all last week. He must,
therefore, have made a mistake, I assure you.'

' It's not worth discussing,' replied Parker, and
immediately threw the fellow on his back and lugged
him up the lawn in front of the stand, walking back-
wards, just as a dog would draw a badger, into the
weighing-room (which in those days was in the

MR. PARKER.

Grand Stand), his quarry howling pitifully all the
way. The weighing-room gained, the man was
allowed to regain an erect position.

' Now,' said Parker, ' pay, or I will throw you
down again and take it from you.'

But, untaught by experience, the fellow, instead of
complying with the request, began to argue the point,
and, before he knew where he was, found himself
again on his back, and a large roll of notes taken from
his pocket. Mr. Parker counted out £15 from these,
and, after handing the sum to Mr. Upton, returned
the roll to the welsher, with a solemn warning that
if he ever dared to do anything of the like again, he,
Mr. Parker, would kick him all round the ring, and
then out of it; adding that he felt very much inclined
to do it there and then.

Of such fellows as these, Mr. Parker could beat ' a
lane full :' and they knew it, without troubling him
to put them through the fiery ordeal. In fact, his
extensive knowledge of pedestrianism, and of the feats
of endurance which pugilists have to submit to, gave
him an insight of training, and what horses should
do, and what they should be like when lit to run,
that very few other men possessed. Therefore, how-
ever specious the reasoning, nothing would make him
believe in a half-trained horse, or cause him to think
that a trained one was overdone. In this opinion he
was confirmed by his own experience in the training
of doo-s. Of the many amusing and instructive

'PINCHER' AND 'BULLET.'

stories I have heard him tell of his experiences in this
way, I will relate one.

In his youthful days Mr. Parker matched his
dog ' Pincher ' to fight another called ' Bullet,' for
£20 a side. After a long fight ' Pincher ' won. He
then bought ' Bullet,' and sold ' Pincher ' to the late
owner of ' Bullet ; ' or, in other words, exchanged
dogs, and made the match over again, to fight three
weeks later. He did this because he said 'Bullet'
was not beat, but too big in condition : and that that,
and nothing else, lost him the battle. For in the
early part of it, whilst he had breath, he had much
the best of the fighting. On the night they fought
the pit was crowded with the fancy and others. After
the delicate process of licking the dogs all over, to see
that they had no cantharides, cayenne pepper, or other
pungent thing on them, to make them loose their
hold of one another whilst fighting, was gone through,
and other preliminaries settled, they set to work.
After a stubborn and plucky resistance, as evidenced
by the result, the battle ended in the death of
' Pincher ' in the pit. £ Bullet,' I may add, was
never beat a^ain after his first defeat. He was a
white dog, with a liver-coloured spot over his eye,
and a patch on his hip, his fighting- weight being
36 lb. Mr. Parker had a picture of him in his break-
fast-room, in John Street, of which he appeared not
a little proud.

The point in this case was that the dog was 6 lb.

i9o MR. PARKER.

lighter when he fought ' Pincher ' the second time,
than he was in the first fight ; and Mr. Parker
inferred from this circumstance that, in like manner,
horses could not do their best unless they were
thoroughly trained ; and his common-sense view of
the matter is worthy of our consideration. I remem-
ber that when Cedric won at Bath, as I have men-
tioned, Admiral Eous came up and complimented
Mr. Parker on his success.

' Yes/ replied the latter, ' he is a bad horse, but
can stay well ; a thing which very few can do.'

' You will find plenty at Woodyates that can,
Parker,' said the Admiral. This was true, and the
Admiral himself had many that could ; and the only
difference between the two men was, that the one did
know when he had one that could stay, and the other
did not. We have positive proof of this in the fact
of the Admiral disposing of Weather gage and Weather-
cock, as well as Killigrew, and, probably the best horse
of his year, Asteroid, simply because he did not recog-
nise their quality.

Mr. Parker trained with me for fifteen years, and
we never had a serious disagreement that I remem-
ber. We parted for a very simple matter. I wanted
him to take Farce out of training. And it was a
farce, as truly as that that was her name, to keep her
in training. But he was very fond of her, as she was
out of his favourite mare One Act, that never bred
one worth a guinea, throwing back to her brother

OUR PARTING. I9I

and sister, which were both good for nothing — a
thing we often see in breeding. I left Farce at
Newmarket, where he ran her, and was third. Then
he sent her to a trainer near where he was himself
living, which may have to some extent induced him
to make the change. I have referred at some leno-th
to this matter in my former book ; and will only acid
here, that she never won a race afterwards, though
heavily backed in bad company. Our parting, how-
ever, fortunatel}T made no difference whatever in our
friendship ; for we had no words over it, and I
visited him at his new house, and was continually
meeting and staying with him at race-meetings.

Mr. Parker was, as I have said, both successful and
discreet. He was, moreover, frugal without covetous-
ness, and manly without pride. Sick of a London
life, he retired to his native village, and purchased
Sibbersfield Hall, a gentlemanly residence in the
neighbourhood, and with it some sixty acres of land.
After rebuilding and adding to the house, he made
paddocks, and amused himself writh keeping half-a-
dozen brood-mares, which was not a very profitable
speculation. But, as he did not want for money, it
amused him, and so they answered a useful end. He
wras married, but had no family. He died at his
residence in his seventy- sixth year, and was buried
at Farndon, leaving a comfortable fortune behind him.
His estate was put up to auction by his executors,
bought in, and ultimately sold to Mr. Hudson, of

1 92 MR. PARKER.

soap-extract celebrity, for his son. I should mention
that before his widow — a most ladylike person, well
disposed to everyone — left Sibbersfield Hall, she wTas
presented with her husband's portrait, and a testi-
monial, signed by most of the leading people in the
neighbourhood, in recognition of her husband's and
her own kindness to the poor and afflicted around
them.

CHAPTER XII.

MR. FABBANCE.

Slothfulness not the happy mean — Origin and marriage —
Farrance's Hotel — Patronage of SirRobert Peel — Custom of an
afternoon — Attention to personal appearance- -His early racing ;
my own start — Horses well sold — Maley at Shrewsbury Steeple-
chase ; speed and heavy ground — Partnership with Mr. Parker ;
successes not his own — Suspicious conduct and separation —
Mysterious loss of fortune — A wretched end — Anecdotes —
' The Tally-Ho ' without a coachman — How a feather-bed may
be lost — Mr. Wagstaff's clock — Parting with a suit of clothes
— Alderman Cubitt's watch.

' Among many parallels which men of imagination
have drawn between the natural and moral state of
the world, it has been observed that happiness, as
well as virtue, consists in mediocrity ; that to avoid
every extreme is necessary, even to him who has no
other care than to pass through the present state with
ease and safety, and that the middle part is the road
of security, on either side of which are not onlv the
pitfalls of vice, but the precipices of ruin.'

This pleasant, wholesome, and truthful reflection
comes irresistibly to my mind when I look back upon
my acquaintanceship with Mr. Farrance, whose name

13

1 94 MR. FARRANCE.

has been mentioned in the last chapter as a confederate
with Mr. Parker in some of his horses. What Mr.
Farrance may have been as a boy I have no means
of ascertaining, and can only speak of him in his early
days, as I have heard him spoken of by others. But
certainly after he reached London and commenced
business in the public line, however much he may have
endeavoured ' to pass through the present state with
ease and safety,' by keeping to the mean, he failed to
do so, insomuch that he passed the most of his life
lethargically, and fell into the pitfall of slothfulness.

Oral tradition says of him that, as a boy, he was
(rood-looking;, and well fitted for the situation which
he then filled, of page to the great politician, Sir
Robert Peel. That he filled the situation with credit,
we may infer from the fact that Sir Bobert so
materially assisted him in his later years. Mr.
Farrance used to say that he never knew anyone of
his own name except a pastiy-cook and confectioner,
living at that time at Charing Cross, to whom, how-
ever, he did not think he was in any way related.
He married Sir John Shelley's housekeeper. She
was much younger than her husband, ladylike in
appearance, and attractive in manners. She was
evidently, we may conclude, in the good graces of
her husband's master ; for when the pair took a very
large and expensive hotel in Belgrave Square, and
called it after their own name, it is said that Sir
Bobert found the money, £15,000, and always stayed

CUSTOM OF AN AFTERNOON. 195

there when in town. Mrs. Farrance was always
stylishly dressed, and a thorough, woman of business,
attending to the hotel in every department. No lady
or gentleman ever went there without being first
interviewed by her, and everything that she wished
to know ascertained — who the visitors were, and how
long they were to stay. I don't believe Mr. Farrance
ever attended to a visitor or, indeed, saw one from
one week's end to another.

I should think, in fact, few men have led a more
careful, regular, and useless life than he did. He was
not an early riser, and when up did nothing but read
the papers and smoke. After dinner he would retire
to his cellar, which he called his counting-house, and
would there receive any company that visited him.
Yet, as a wit would say, he was not afraid of
work, for his ' custom always of an afternoon ' was
to go to sleep ; being a believer in the doctrine of
Garacole, who taught, ' after a good dinner a good
sleep, and after a bad dinner no work.' It was in
this sanctum that we used to meet, and over his
excellent Scotch whisky and a good cigar, he would
relate a few anecdotes that were notable for their
brevity. On other occasions he kept a silent tongue,
perhaps like the sailor's parrot, to induce people to
conclude he was ' such a stunner to think.' He pro-
fessed to know nothing about racing, and I suspect
that in so professing he was right. He never in my pre-
sence made a single suggestion as to anything that he

196 MR. FARRANCE.

should like done with the horses, or relating to them.
In fact, he was one to whom Johnson's lines will
fitly apply, ' whose life has passed without a contest,
and who can boast neither success nor merit, can
survey himself only as a useless filler of existence ;
and if he is content with his own character, must owe
his satisfaction to insensibility.'

To his credit, however, it should be recorded that
to two things, dress and deportment, he devoted much
attention. In person he was short, but always stately,
and in manner both affable and obli°-iiii>;. His dark
frock-coat and double-breasted waistcoat were always
of the most stylish cut and an exquisite fit. His
black satin stock was fastened with a costly diamond
pin, and round his neck he wore a long massive
gold watch-chain, which was fully displayed outside
his waistcoat ; whilst his tiny fingers were richly
ornamented with rings of great value. He was as
dandified in old age as he had been vain of his person
in youth. A splendid head of hair — whose long jet-
black curls were probably ' the dowry of a second
head, the skull that bred them in the sepulchre ' —
served favourably to set off his other attractions. In
fact, the artistic work of this peruke, and the display
afforded by faultless dentistry, caused it to be specially
remarked how highly in these adornments he had been
favoured by nature.

His voice was not powerful, and he spoke slowly,
in a subdued tone, which gave him an air of im-

EARLY RACING. 197

portance. Of bis own power and greatness he was
most favourably impressed, there can be no doubt ;
or the labour he so profusely bestowed on his person
would not have snven him such unbounded satis-
faction.

Beyond racing a little, he was no sportsman. He
never shot anything beyond the cat, when incautiously
handling the deadly weapon. Kor did I ever see him
on the back of a horse, or hear of his fishing, except
' in troubled waters.'

Such was the man who was partner in many
horses with Mr. Parker, one of the acutest sportsmen
of his day, as I have shown. Indeed, I owe Mr.
Farrance a debt of gratitude, for it was through him,
I believe, that Mr. Parker first came to train with
me, when they became partners with Mr. Padwick in
Joe Miller, as I have related. But when I first knew
Mr. Farrance he was training with Mr. Hornby,
having then but one horse, called The Old Fox, which
I think won him a small race or two.- He had a half
share in John Bull, then a yearling, by Touchstone out
of Fortress, and a little mare called Traitress, by
Touchstone out of Deceitful. It was with these two
horses I first started business as a public trainer at
Stockbridge ; although in the preceding year I had
Fugitive, a horse of my own. The two used to go,
by permission, in Lord Walpole's name, though his
lordship never had any share in them, or in any other
that were so run that I trained. Traitress, Captain

198 MR. FARRANCE.

Kennedy afterwards bought, and with her I won him
two small races at Portsmouth.

Mr. Farrance bought Flora Mclvor, own sister to
Joe Miller, a year older; but she proved good for
nothing, and we sold her. xVfterwards she ran at
Brighton, and was a great favourite, and thought to
be very good; but ran just the reverse, and we had
no cause to regret then or after parting with her. He
had also a great fine chestnut mare called Maley,
about sixteen hands high, and strong in proportion,
that could not get over half a mile on the flat; and
we sold her, too, for a small sum. A year or two
later I went to Shrewsbury, and heard that Maley
was sure to win the Two Mile Steeplechase, being
then first favourite. It suddenly occurred to me that
this might be the mare I had sold, and I felt con-
vinced, if it was, she could not have much chance of
winning over a long course in deep ground, though
welter weights might suit her. Staying at the same
place, I saw her returning 'from exercise the day
before the race looking very well; but could not bring
my mind to think she could be made to stay such a
course. In the result she was beat, but ran much
better than I expected to see her, being, if I remember
rightly, a moderate third.

This result proved to me, then, a curious fact
which every day more fully confirms, and that is, that
speedy horses will stay in deep ground over a steeple-
chase course as well as, or better than, slow game

SUCCESSES NOT HIS OWN. 199

horses do over the flat. Oxonian, I admit, was an
exception to this rule. I can only attribute this to
the slowness of the pace at which, generally, they
travel, and also to the fact of their being eased so
often before taking their fences. Otherwise, I should
expect to see the same result over one course as over
the other, if due allowance be made for the different
effect produced by the wet or dry condition of the
ground on different horses; and until I have ocular
demonstration to the contrary I shall always think so.
Besides his share in Joe Miller, Mr. Farrance had a
third share in One Act, and a share in Noisy, Maid of
the Mill, Miss Emma, Cardinal Wiseman, and a few
others. He raced for a few years only, but was
decidedly successful. But this success was un-
doubtedly largely clue to the fact that he was con-
federate with Mr. Parker. So little had Mr. Farrance
to do with it, that I don't think the former ever con-
sulted him as to what should be done with any of the
horses they had together. Like poor George Arm-
strong with Swindell, so was Farrance with Parker
• — useful to do his bidding. The cause of the final
separation of the two has been already related. Mr.
Parker suspected his partner of obtaining information
clandestinely from the Woodyates stable about horses
of which he was only part owner, if not about others.
And it will be remembered that he was so suspected
in the instance in which we were forestalled in the
betting on One Act. We are reminded in this that

coo MR. FARRANCE.

caution is never ' more necessary than in dealing with
associates or friends of feeble mind.' Under the most
favourable construction there was ground for grave
suspicion ; and the trouble ripened into a quarrel and
a separation, Mr. Parker taking over any share the
other had in Joe Miller, One Act, and Noisy. The
other few horses Mr. Farrance owned were soon got
rid of, and that gentleman left the turf, and I don't
think I ever saw him afterwards.

I will say of Mr. Farrance that I never had a dis-
cordant word with him, nor the occasion for one. His
subsequent life was always a mystery to me, in regard
to the manner in which he got rid of his considerable
wealth. He was not a gambler, never that I heard of
played cards or threw dice, and was certainly not fond
of betting. He kept no company, lived inexpensively,
and had but one child— a daughter, who married well.
Yet he lived beyond his means, and squandered a
fortune in a short time. A ' dominant simplicity '
seemed to have ruled his actions to the end ; and the
crowning act of his old age, when about seventy, was,
I am told, the folly of eloping with one of his own
female domestics to France, from which country, I
think, he never returned; and his name, and that of
his hotel, were blotted from the knowledge of the
world, except with the few who, like myself, remember
him.

I have referred to Mr. Farrance's reputation as a
story-teller. If I venture to reproduce one or two of

A COACH WITHOUT A COACHMAN.

the anecdotes I call to mind, I do so, it must be
remembered, at second-hand, and can do but scant
justice to their merits. Such as they are, I give
them.

' It rained very hard,' said an eye-witness, ' when
the "Tally-Ho" coach pulled up at the inn of the
last stage for changing horses before reaching Exeter.
Immediately after starting, John Hex, the coachman,
crept into the front boot of the coach, and in this
position drove the horses through Kenn and Alphing-
ton, causing quite a consternation amongst the inhabi-
tants, who thought the horses had run away without
a coachman. Tommy Waters, the guard, fancying
something was unusual, peeped over the top of the
luggage on the roof, and seeing the horses going at a
pace faster than common, and no driver, quietly got
off behind, and in so doing broke his leg. Just
before entering the city, Hex stealthily emerged from
his concealment, and took his seat on the box and
drove up to the New London Inn in his usual style.
Shortly after, a lot of people came driving and riding
up to learn the fate of the coach and horses, which
they vowed had no driver as it passed through several
villages ; whilst Hex for his part as stoutly asserted
that he had never left the coach, and had driven all
the way without a passenger, except two in the inside,
who were unaware of the act of the sportive coach-
man.'

It was said, although Mr. Farrance could never be

2 02 MR. FARRANCE.

got to admit it, that he was the veritable person who
met a man comina: down his own stairs backwards
with a good feather-bed on his shoulder.

1 What have you got there, my man ?' said Mr.
Farrance.

' A bed, sir, for }rou,' was the reply.

' Nonsense,' was the rejoinder; ' it is not for me.'

' No. 22, Belgrave Square, sir.'

' Ah,' said Mr. Farrance, ' I thouo-hf so. It's next
door.'

And the man turned and bore the bed off in
triumph before its owner's e}res ; for of course the
trick was not discovered until too late.

Thefts of this kind are common in London as black-
berries in a country lane ; and publicans especially are
liable to be sufferers in this way. Within my own
experience I have known one or two similar instances,
which may be worth relating, if only for the sake of
instruction ; although I fear precept will be useless,
as the danger comes in a form so unexpected.

Mr. Wagstaff, a friend of mine, and a very good
fellow, who, besides being in an extensive way of
business as a coal- merchant, kept The Hero of Water-
loo Hotel in the Waterloo Road, close to the South-
western Station, was robbed in the most barefaced
Avay imaginable. A man with a paper cap on his
head, and a white apron wound round his body,
made his appearance in the coffee-room, where
many customers were sitting at luncheon (in Mr.

THE MISSING CLOCK. 203

Wagstaff's absence, we may be sure), and after look-
ing intently at the clock that hung over the mantel-
piece, remarked to himself in audible tones :

' I have had more trouble with that clock than I
ever had with one before ;' and turning to the waiter,
went on to say, ' Send the boots here with the steps
that I may take it down, and I will try once more to
put it right.'

Not suspecting anything wrong, the waiter told
the boots, and the steps were brought and placed in
position. Before mounting them the man said :

' Now mind you hold them steady, as I don't want
to get a fall over a thing like that,' alluding to the
clock. He was not long in removing the objection-
able timepiece, and reaching the safety of the floor,
when, before departing, he again addressed the waiter.
' Waiter,' he said, ' tell Mr. Wagstaff I am busy,
and that he must not expect it back very soon.'

This message the waiter faithfully delivered to his
master on his return, and was told he was an idiot to
have let the clock go, as he would never see it again,
which was true enough.

To understand the next story properly, it should
be explained that Mr. Wagstaff had his own private
house as well as the hotel. One clay shortly after the
loss of the clock, a respectable-looking man rang at
the front-door, and loudly rapped the knocker, quickly
bringing up the servant.

' Oh!' said the caller, ' Mr. AVagstaff has fallen off

2o4 MR. FARRANCE.

one of the barges into the river at the wharf, and
wants a change of things; but,' he added, 'don't tell
Mrs. Wagstaff, or it may frighten her.'

But Mrs. Wagstaff, catching part of what was said,
came quickly forward, and asked the man if he was
quite sure her husband was not hurt.

' Not a bit, ma'am,' was the reply.

So she went hastily upstairs, and brought the
things down, and gave them to him; when, looking
her straight in the face, he coolly said :

' Don't you think, ma'am, they would look better
if you tied them up in a nice silk handkerchief ?' so
confidently, indeed, that she actually went and fetched
him one.

When Mr. Wagstaff came home, it was soon dis-
covered that she had been duped ; but, strange to say,
the police traced and reovered the stolen property,
and the thief was tried and convicted.

But if, in the pursuit of their delicate profession,
these experts can outwit a publican, what shall we say
of their robbing even a judge on the bench? Yet this
has happened. When the late Alderman Cubitt (who
was twice Lord Mayor of London town) was trying
a case of some importance at the Mansion House, he
was not quite satisfied with the evidence of a witness,
and though not thinking it exactly improbable, re-
quested him to be very careful.

' For,' said his lordship, ' when I arose this morning
I could have sworn that I put my watch into my

THE ALDERMAN'S WATCH. 205

pocket, and I have only just missed it, and now
recollect that I left it on my dressing-table.'

But the witness's evidence was not to be shaken,
and the prisoner was convicted. On returning home,
his lordship was asked by the Lady Mayoress what
caused him to send so many messengers in such quick
succession after his watch and chain, as but one could
take it to him. He then saw how his indiscretion had
led to the loss of his own property. If these or
similar cases ever met the eye of Mr. Farrance, it
would have been some comfort to him to find he had
not been the only victim of a heartless and impudent
robbery in the loss of his own bed.

CHAPTER XIII.

MEN OF MY TIME, OR DANEBURY PATRICIANS.

Example needed on the turf — Danebury patricians — Mr. Harry
Biggs ; love of sport — His horses — Little Red Rover — A bit of
advice — Esteem for his trainer — A night in a chalk-pit.

Lord Palmerston ; his horses — Iliona's name ; she wins the
Cesarewitch — A welcome cheque — Buckthorns performances ;
doubtful riding in the Ascot Stakes — Purchase of Iliona — His
lordship's habits — Gallops to Danebury — Story of my father's
visit to the House of Commons — The butcher and his bill —
Other peculiarities.

Sir Lewin Glyn — Gross libel on him and my father — Mr.
Farquharson — His original views of racing — As a sheep-
breeder ; adventure at a fair.

If racing is to be kept up with any degree of respect-
ability, it must rely on the support of those who — first,
can afford to pay for so expensive an amusement; and
secondly, race for other motives than that of obtain-
ing wealth. Example in this way has a wide influ-
ence in shaping the conduct of others who look up to
their superiors as oracles to be followed. I do not
for a moment doubt that mercenary adventurers will
always be found amongst the motley crowd that figures
on the racecourse, conspicuous by the damage they

MR. HARRY BIGGS. 207

do to its best interests, and by the skilfulness with
which they escape the legitimate penalty of their
deeds, which should be their peremptory dismissal
from the scene. But though ' to say well is a kind
of good deed,' I am painfully aware that to lecture on
the subject is useless, unless the magnates of the
turf take the matter in their own hands, and by their
own actions produce the desired good results. Never-
theless, it is a pleasure to me to have now to record
the deeds and doings of not a few patricians who, in
the olden time, largely helped to serve the best
interests of the turf, and, I may add, were consistent
supporters of the Danebury stable.

In saying what I have to say about them, I shall
not attempt to deal with these noble patrons of the
racecourse in chronological order, or aim to give
them the correct precedence one over the other ; but
take them just as they come to memory.

Mr. Harry Biggs, then, I take as my first example
of the thorough sportsman. He commenced racing
in 1807, raced like a gentleman for some forty
years, and left a name unsullied in turf history. His
country seat was at Stockton, in Wiltshire. In his
youth he was noted for his ready wit and facetious-
ness, and for his attention to the fair sex. He was
fond of sport in whatever shape. He coursed ; was a
great admirer of boxing, and somewhat proficient
in the use of his hands ; and he revelled in cocking,
a gentlemanly recreation in those days. But his chief

2o8 MEN OF MY TIME.

delight was in racing, pure and simple, and he raced
for the love of the sport. He was wealthy, or had
ample means for the continuance of such pleasures as
he indulged in, without looking for the addition of
success. He had many serviceable horses. Amongst
them were the following : Pounce, Whisk, Arrian,
Clara, Eteus, Thessalus, Margaretta, Miss Baddesley,
Buxom Lass, and Negress. But I think Little Red
Rover was the best he had; for with him he secured
many valuable stakes. It was when riding him at
Goodwood my father gained the sobriquet of ' Honest
John,' with which his name has ever since been
identified by race-goers both of the old and present
school. I should mention, too, that when my brother
John won the Produce Stakes at Bibury for Mr.
Biggs on Arrian, he said :

' Now, young man, I am going to give you a little
advice, which will be much more serviceable than
money. Mind and enjoy yourself as much as you
can before you get to sixty, for you will have little
pleasure after, I assure you.'

Mr. Biggs was fond of his joke, and though,
after the fashion of the time, his were not of the
present refined order, they were never made at the
expense either of friend or foe. So far as I remember,
he never betted, or, at most, but a trifle ; and in this
way he would permit himself no inducement to do
anything unworthy of his turf reputation. And,
strange as it may seem to many who race in the

A NIGHT IN A CHALK-PIT. 209

present day, and exchange a trainer one day to have
another the next, he never changed his trainer, and
thus showed his confidence and satisfaction in those
he employed. Indeed, the same jockey rode for him
as far as practicable during the whole time that he
kept racehorses ; and he never, that I remember, had
a discordant word with either the one or the other.
Rare qualities, not possessed by many in our
time !

When he was getting well on in years, being at the
time about seventy, a very serious accident befell him.
He was returning in the evening from a convivial
party of youthful friends in his own village, and, in
crossing the fields to his house, accidentally fell down
a chalk-pit and broke his thigh. As no one was near
to hear his call for assistance, he had to remain there,
ruminating over past pleasures, till discovered by one
of his labourers in the morning, attracted to the spot
by his moans. Assistance was soon got, and, terrible
and unpleasant as his experience in the night hours
had been, he recovered from its effects with the vigour
of a good constitution. It resulted, however, in
shortening his leg, and in his subsequent lameness.
But, beyond this slight disfigurement, the fall
appeared to have done him no harm ; for he lived
many years afterwards, in the enjoyment of buoyant
spirits and the full possession of his faculties and
physical health, retaining to the end his love for the
alluring society of the other sex. He died at his

14

MEN OF MY TIME.

seat at Stockton, when he must have been about
ninety.

Lord Palmerston kept horses with my father about
the year 1817, and had several good ones. Amongst
his early possessions may be mentioned Enchantress,
Banvittes, Biondetta, Luzborough, Black and All
Black, Foxbury, and Grey Leg ; and, later, Too thill,
Iliona, Zeila, Romsey, Dactyl, and Buckthorn. But
I think that, in racing circles, he will be better known
as the owner of Iliona than by any other. The name
of Priam's daughter, on her appearance in public,
caused a sensation among the most learned orthoepists.
A discussion took place as to the proper pronuncia-
tion between the then Lord Maidstone and Mr.
Gregory, who, now Sir William, and just returned
home from many years' foreign service in good health,
was in those days fresh from Alma Mater. The
dispute ended, as I think most disputes of a like kind
do, by each advocate thinking he was in the right.
But a greater sensation was created when she won
for Lord Palmerston his first Cesarewitch. In early
life his lordship was always credited with being poor ;
and, until he married, anything like a substantial
cheque was acceptable to him. And it may be
imagined readily, that on this event coming off, when
my father, on his return from Newmarket, handed
him one which included not only the Cesarewitch
stakes, but a fair sum in bets, after deducting his
little account which had been for some years out-
standing, his lordship was not a little pleased.

LORD PALMERSTON. 211

Buckthorn was a nice horse, rather above the
average size of the Venisons, and, like his father,
stayed well. He was probably the best horse his
lordship ever had, and certainly the best he ever bred,
being by Venison out of Zeila. As a two-year-old
he ran second to Little Savage for the Two-year-old
Stakes at Winchester, third to Elcot and Flirt for
the Woodcote Stakes at Epsom, and not placed in
the New Stakes at Ascot, won by Robbie Noble. As
a three-year-old, he ran nine times and won five, and
cantered over for the Wiltshire Stakes, dividing
the forfeit with Mr. Winch's Proudfoot. He won at
the following provincial meetings : Stockbridge,
Winchester, Salisbury, and at his lordship's favourite
meeting, Tiverton.

The race for the Ascot Stakes, in 1853, when thir-
teen ran — King Pippin, the same age, four-}rear-old,
being second, Buckthorn giving him nearly 2 st. —
was remarkable for the distance which my brother
Alfred lay away from his horses; I should think,
certainly more than 100 yards behind the one immedi-
ately before him, and how far from the first I can't
say. About a mile from home, and even less, he was
considered out of it altogether by the spectators. But
he crept up, little by little, till rounding the bend,
and when fairly in the straight he came with a rush,
and won by half a length. At such a ' masterly
exhibition,' as it was called, Alfred was complimented
over and over again in the highest quarters, besides

14—2

MEN OF MY TIME.

receiving, on his return to the scales, an ovation
at the hands of the general public that greater men
for accomplishing greater deeds might have been
proud of. Alfred, no doubt, was a good jockey ;
which is as much as modesty permits one brother to
say of another. But, like other men, he was not
infallible. In this race, at least, in spite of the public
praise given him, he made a mistake. For had Buck-
thorn not been very much better than the rest of the
horses, he would have been beat to the greatest
certainty on earth. And yet everyone thought that
no horse could have been ridden better. But as a
fact, to ride him so hard for so great a distance was
more than a mistake. The horse did not get over it,
and never afterwards ran so well in public. If this
be public opinion, we cannot wonder that ' doctors
disagree, and soundest casuists doubt.' For my part,
I have seen too many races lost by similar riding to
have any misgiving on the subject. Fisherman, Mario-
nette, and Julius, at Stockbridge, were all beat by
lying so far out of their ground, by horses to which,
on their public form, they could have given 21 lb. ;
and proved that form by beating their vanquishers
afterwards. Yet, on those occasions, the riders were
not lauded to the skies for a display of good jockey-
ship.

In 1842 I won the Southampton Stakes for his
lordship on Tliona, beating eight others, all being
placed, an unusual occurrence showing the severity

PURCHASE OF ILIONA. 213

of the pace. In those days the race was considered
valuable and interesting, being just before Goodwood.
In that particular year it was specially so, as Retriever,
who ran second, the week after won the Goodwood
Stakes, beating eighteen others, amongst them being
Arcanus, the winner of the Cesarewitch the same
autumn. In these days, Lord Palmerston was in the
habit, when in town, of going every Sunday afternoon
to ' the Corner ' to see the horses that were up for sale
the next day. Here it was he caught sight of a filly
by Priam out of Gallopade 's dam, and bought her for
' a song.' He sent her to my father, saying, ' I
hope you will like the little filly when you have seen
her ' — not knowing that she was one of Lord George
Bentinck's cast-offs, to which Crucifix as a yearling
could give over two stone, and no doubt could have
done so afterwards — a filly, in fact, that was not
thought to be 2*ood enough to win a lar^e stake.
And this was Iliona, who proved herself able to
win for his lordship the Cesarewitch, besides other
good races. Truly a proof that ' ignorance is ' some-
times ' bliss ;' for had the facts been known, it is
certain she would not have been bought.

His lordship never interfered at all with the manage-
ment of his horses. He used to say to my father,
' Run them where you like and when you think best.
Only let me know when they are worth backing, or that
you have backed them for me.' He seldom saw one
tried or run. If he did, it would be at Tiverton when

2i4 MEN OF MY TIME.

he was on a visit to his constituents for electioneering
purposes. He patronized the race-meetings at Salis-
bury, Stockbridge, and Blandford — until the latter
races were abandoned — and Southampton. Soon after
the death of my father, he removed his horses to
Littleton at the request of Ward, his polite and
spoiled old pad-groom, who thought probably that
there he should know more of them, and perhaps
make more out of them, than he did at Danebury.
But I don't think the result answered his expecta-
tions, for they did but little good after leaving their
old quarters.

Lord Palmerston was abstemious in his eating and
drinking. A glass or two of sherry at dinner was
all that he generally partook of. When the dessert
came on the table, he would retire to his library or
study, leaving her ladyship to do the honours of the
table. He read or wrote from ten o'clock at night
until two o'clock in the morning, standing at a high
desk, as he thought such a position preferable, for the
sake of his health, to leaning over a low one. He
rose early, and in the country breakfasted at nine
o'clock, reading before doing so. He was fond of
many sports, though he seldom indulged in any
except racing. He was extremely proud and vain
of his person, which possibly gained him the sobri-
quet of ' Cupid.' He considered himself, and indeed
was, a thorough ladies' man, and only married late in
life.

VISITS TO DANEBURY. 215

When at Broadlands, his seat in Hampshire, he
used to ride over to Danebury to see his horses,
mounted on a thoroughbred hack, and his groom on
another ; and starting from his own front-door, gallop
all the way until he reached his destination. Indeed,
on arriving at Danebury he would go round the
yard once or twice, gradually reducing the pace, until
he could pull up. This may seem ludicrous, but it is
no exaggeration, for I have seen him do so myself.
He used to wear dark trousers, and a dress-coat of
the same hue, the latter unbuttoned ; and of course
flying open, gave him a strange appearance in riding
so fast. I never knew him partake of any repast at
Danebury, not even a glass of sherry or a cup of tea ;
and doubt very much if he ever entered the house.
Immediately after seeing the horses, and chatting
matters over with my father, he would ride back just
as fast as he came. The reason he gave for riding so
furiously was that it was, as he said, ' such capital
exercise.'

The story of my father meeting him in the House
of Commons has been so often and so erroneously
told, that it may be well to put it in its real shape.
This is its true form. My father, wishing to see his
lordship, would have gone into the House and called
him out, had he not been stopped by the policeman
on duty. Not exactly understanding the police
regulations, he felt annoyed in being interfered with,
and, on being asked for his card, replied :

216 MEN OF MY TIME.

1 1 don't carry cards. Give me a piece of paper,
and I will write my name.' Whilst he was in the
act of doing so, Sir William Codrington came out and
spoke to him.

' What brings you here, John,' he said ; ' and can I
do anything for you ?'

' Yes, Sir William,' he replied ; ' I want to see Lord
Palmerston, and this man won't let me pass.'

On his beino- assured it was the regulation of the
House, he was satisfied ; but was vexed when Sir
William told him that he did not expect for a moment
he would see his lordship, as the Irish debate was
on, and he would be too much ens'a^ed to leave.

1 But,' he kindly added, ' I will go and see.'

To everyone's surprise, the Premier got up and
came straight out to my father. After shaking hands,
my father heartily congratulated him on his being
Premier ; to which his lordship replied :

' Oh, thanks, John ; I have won my Derby ;' and
then inquired how he could serve him. The business
which had brought my father to town to see him was
to obtain his interest in getting my brother Henry
made coroner. His lordship said it should be done ;
and shortly after my brother was appointed to the
Coronership of Hertfordshire, which he retained to
his death, in 1883. Few noblemen, and probably no
other commoner, would have done such a thins-.
Indeed, he dealt very differently with other people
that he employed, none of whom could scarcely ever

SIR LEW IN GLYN. 217

approach hirn on any pretence whatever. Yet I am
reminded that his butcher did get at him one day,
by accident ; and would not leave him until he had
been paid his long-standing account. But when it
was paid, and the receipt duly signed, his lordship
drew on a glove, and, taking up the pen which had
been used for the purpose, threw it out of the window,
in utter contempt for ' such a mean action ' as a man's
asking for his own.

I remember that, in regard to one question largely
affecting society, his lordship held a distinct indi-
vidual opinion. He thought that any restraint on
unfortunates would be a far greater social evil than
any created by permitting them freedom of action.
He reasoned that if restraint were used, the respect-
able part of Society would meet with much greater
molestation and annoyance than they are now sub-
jected to. Curiously, for some cause or other, his
lordship was always late at any civic feast or banquet
which he attended, and invariably excused himself by
saying, ' Public business must be attended to, your
Royal Highness,' or whoever may have been presiding.
Such were some of the doings of a nobleman who
lived to a good old age, died in harness, lamented by
the whole nation, and was accorded a public funeral.

Sir Lewin Glyn was rather before my time, for I
see that he commenced racing in 1828. I have always
heard him spoken of as a gentleman who was fond of
the sport, and whose conduct was above suspicion.

2iS MEN OF MY TIME.

He had Recruit, Jenny Vertpre, and many others
that did him good service, considering the smallness
of his stud. Beyond this brief record I have little to
say ; but I call to mind that in those early days, both
himself and my father were grossly libelled in a
scurrilous print, known as The Penny Satirist. This
was what appeared :

' John Day pulled up the Duke of Grafton's mare
in a most disgraceful way, letting the leg, Sir Lewin
Glyn's horse, win.'

This serious accusation was made when my father
was a young man, and had just commenced riding
for the Dukes of Portland, Grafton, and Cleveland.
He naturally thought that a public charge of the
kind, notwithstanding that it came from a recognised
venomous quarter, might do him some harm in the
racing world. So he consulted Mr. C. C. Greville
as to what steps he should take to satisfy the public
and his employers, and received the following very
good advice :

' Have you lost any of your masters, or has any of
them spoken to you about it ?' Mr. Greville asked.
And being answered ' No,' said, ' Go home, John,
and think yourself a great man, or they would not
have noticed you.'

Another Danebury worthy, Mr. J. J. Farquharson,
of Langton, Dorsetshire, was a gentleman who raced
in a different style from most people. He wras
a great hunting-man, and kept a pack of foxhounds

MR. FARQUHARSON. 219

for over fifty years entirely at his own expense; and
did the thing thoroughly. His peculiar view of
facing was, that horses should be neither broken nor
trained until they were four years old. Moreover,
he used to race mostly for small races; and as he
never had many that he trained, few races fell to his
share. He had Tlie Maid of Cadiz, Bacchanal, and
others.

He was in all he undertook a thoroughly practical
man; and as a breeder of sheep would attend the
fairs in person. Amongst the sheep fairs he usually
attended was the August one at Bridford. Here it
was that for the first time he was taunted with asking
too much for his flock. It was in this way. The
fair was bad, and the prices got worse as the day
advanced. Early in the morning, for he was generally
at the fair by the side of his sheep as soon as most
people, he was asked by an uncouth dealer the price
he would take for his ewes. On naming his figure,
he was told it was too much, and the man bid him six
shillings per head less. The dealer, as is often done,
sent half a dozen of his emissaries to inquire the price
again and again, on each occasion to bid a little less
than before, all bids being, of course, declined. Just
before the breaking-up of the fair, when Mr. Far-
quharson was about to return home, his friend of the
morning came again, and thus addressed him :

' Well, farmer, you have not sold those little ewes
of yours. You had better take the price I bid you in the

MEN OF MY TIME.

morning, for no one will give more; and you can't go
home without the money, you know.'

To this Mr. Farquharson quietly replied :
' I will try,' and left the would-be buyer astonished
to see him laughing heartily at what was, of course,
to the owner of the sheep, an immense joke. He
always drove a pair in a large high carriage, on which,
on his return from the fair if he had sold out, his
shepherd and his dog were seated by his side.

CHAPTER XIV.

MEN OF MY TIME, OK DANEBUEY PATRICIANS

(continued).

Mr. Trelawney — Coldreniclc favourite for the Derby — Officious
friends — ' John Davis looked up' — The money hedged.

Mr. Wreford — Success as a breeder ; system pursued ; ex-
cellence of yearlings ; Wapiti — His horses ;. mode of engage-
ment ; races won ; family disappointments — ' A dinner for
three ; disappearance of the goose ' — A hot breakfast and a hot
pudding — Shooting in Devonshire and Wiltshire compared —
The sheep and the Downs — A sad old age.

Sir E. B. Baker ; complacence when beaten ; removal to
Woodyates.

Sir J. B. Mills ; easily satisfied ; story of another philosopher
and a lazy trainer — Gout v. fishing — Visits to Danebury ; love
of cocking.

Another patron of Danebury, Mr. Trelawney, of
Coldrenick, in Devonshire, was, like Mr. Farquharson
referred to at the conclusion of the last chapter, more
given to hunting than racing; and also kept the
hounds for many years. He occasionally bred one or
two horses for his own amusement; though, as a
matter of fact, they were intended more for the chase
than the turf. Amongst others, he bred a horse which

MEN OF MY TIME.

he named after his own place, Coldrenick, and sent to
be trained. The animal had good speed, but could not
stay, and was beat easily in the Derby by Attila, and
others. Nevertheless, for ' a dark horse,' he was made
one of the strongest favourites, I should think, that
ever ran for it. Mr. Trelawney did not, as a rule, bet ;
but on this occasion, at the instigation of his trainer,
he backed the horse at long odds for several hundreds,
yet the sum did not reach four figures. The result
will serve as an illustration of what the officiousness
of friends may do for us. Having backed him at
long odds, and the horse becoming favourite, my
father now advised him, as a matter of prudence, to
lay short odds against him to the amount he had
backed him for. Mr. Trelawney's answer was :

' When you have the opportunity and can, do it
for me.'

This commission was soon effected, and the -price
and amount sent to Mr. Trelawney, but not the
name of the bookmaker — an omission which my
father, for his own sake, should not have made. It
was then that the candid friend came on the scene,
whose interference might in the end have been harm-
ful, as we shall learn, to the interests he intended to
protect. Sir William Cawl said to Mr. Trelawney that
the names should have been given in with the bets;
in consequence they were asked for, and immediately
sent. One bet, £2,000 to £1,000, had been booked
to Mr. Josiah Anderson, the well-known singer and

MR. TRELAWNEY. 223

comedian, who was then of good standing on the
turf. In fact, the name was looked upon by Mr.
Trelawney and Sir William Cawl as all right; and
so the matter ended, until the Monday following,
when Mr. Anderson did not meet his creditors at 'the
Corner,' and was declared a defaulter, Mr. Trelawney
losing his £1,000. Now, had it not been for the
advice and interference of Sir William Cawl, in
unnecessarily requiring names, having already a good
one, Mr. Trelawney, strictly speaking, would have
been entitled to claim the money from my father.
This is an illustration of the proverb, ' Save me from
my friends ;' although I may doubt if, in this case, it
would have made much difference; for Mr. Tre-
lawney's nature was the last to stand upon his rights,
or claim upon a quibble, or take advantage of a mere
technical error.

It was at the Bath meeting, previous to the race,
when Topsail had beaten Eleus at the odds of 3 to 1
on the latter, that Lord Maidstone wrote some
derisive poetry, commencing :

' John Davis looked up ; John Davis looked down,'
referring of course to John Day, and to the perilous
position in which this and other catastrophes had
placed Coldrenick in the market. In fact he would
have been driven from favouritism to obscurity, had
it not been for my father's firmness. Owing to his
attitude, they could not do what they would — shake
the horse's position; and he remained favourite to the

224 MEN OF MY TIME.

finish, thus enabling the stable to hedge all the money.
In reality the mistake about him was due to the bad-
ness that year of Pelerine, Uleus, and other of his trial
horses. But the mistake had been found out, and all
hope of his success given up since his trial a fortnight
before the race.

I have previously referred casually to Mr. Wreford,
another supporter of Danebury. He was, when a
young man, a leather-tanner, and a sharp, shrewd
man of business. He was fond of field-sports, a good
shot, and kept a pack of harriers. But racing was
the one engrossing object of his life, and in it he was
decidedly successful. He first trained with Mr. John
Dilly ; but soon left him and came to Danebury,
which he never left till he gave up racing altogether,
which he was obliged to do through the extravagance
of his family. I never heard that he did much good
for himself on the turf until he commenced breeding.
In this, however, he excelled beyond most other
people. He lived at Gratton, near Bow, Crediton,
Devonshire, and bred mostly from cheap, well-bred
mares. One of his best brood-mares, Margellina —
sister to Menmon, winner of the St. Leger, and not
worth a guinea herself as a racehorse — he gave £25
for ; and many others cost him very little if any-
thing more. On the other hand, when he did make
an exception, as in the case of Mouche, for which he
gave £700 after she had run second to Variation in
the Oaks in 1830, it proved to be a mistake ; for she

MR. WREFORD. 225

was by far the worst mare in his stud, and never bred
him anything that could run but Worthless.

His stud was a small one, seven or eight mares
only. And the secret of his success was that he used
to send them to the best stallions at any cost, and no
distance was too great. Every horse he ran was always
half my father's. They were valued at £400 each at
the time they came to Danebury, and I think, up to
that period, I never saw a better lot of yearlings, year
after year. They were just as good as racehorses as
they were in appearance. Wapiti was more like a
cart-horse five years old than a yearling in point of
strength when she arrived at Danebury ; and as a
two - year - old she won four races at Goodwood,
including a walk-over, and gave Deception 2 lb. and
beat her. And next year Deception won the Oaks,
and was second for the Derby. The following is a
list of some of his best winners : Wintonian, Win-
chelsea, Wilderness, Warden, Wisdom, Wiseacre, Free
Will, Welcome, Freeholder, Tyrant, Westonian, Wes-
teria, Tory, Worthless, and Wit's End.

Mr. Wreford betted but little. He preferred to
rely for his winnings on the stakes. He generally
engaged his horses in most of the larger races, in
the Derby and the Oaks, the Ham and the Grat-
wicke. The 200 Sovereign Stakes, P. P., one for colts,
and the other for fillies, was another favourite, as also
the Lavant and Molecomb and Racing Stakes; and,
in short, the rest of the best things at Goodwood, all

15

226 MEN OF MY TIME.

of which, or nearly the whole, I think he won, and
man)* of them more than once, except the two first
named, and these he might have carried off if Wapiti
had remained sound. Wahah won the Buckingham
Stakes, 300 sovereigns each, at Newmarket, beat-
ing Lord Exeter's Abydos, after running a dead-heat
for it ; and he also won this race another year
with Free Will. Most of his best races he won with
his two- and three-year-olds. He did little in handi-
caps ; though he won the Goodwood Stakes with
Franchise, and the Cesarewitch with Wit's End,
and many other minor events. Besides the races
enumerated above, he usually entered for the Produce
Stakes, which in those days were always the best
races at Stockbridge, Bibury, Winchester, Bath, and
other provincial meetings. He often won most of
them, up to the time he gave up racing. I do
not think anyone for so many years consecutively
won so many races of the like value with so small a
stud.

But if successful on the turf, Mr. AVreford was
fated to be unfortunate in his private affairs, through
no fault of his own. His son caused him a great deal
of trouble. He betted contrary to his father's wishes,
and lost large sums. He also played cards, of which
he was very fond, though he did not understand
them, and more than once came to srief in doing: so.
As an instance of his folly in this way, it may be
stated that he used to play with Mr. George Payne,

'A DINNER FOR THREE.' 227

who, in turf phraseology, could ' carry him.' His
father paid his debts for him once or twice — in fact,
until he could do so no longer ; and this was the
cause of old Mr. Wreford's ruin. The son, when too
late, was put under restraint, and did not live long.
The father, on the other hand, lived to a good old
age.

Mr. Wreford was a very fine strong man, and re-
ported in his younger days to have been the possessor of
an enormous appetite. He once called at the Gloster
Coffee House, Piccadilly, now the St. James's Hotel,
and ordered dinner for three. At the appointed time
he turned up himself, and on inquiring for his friends,
was told they had not arrived. He said he would
not wait, and commenced. Not perhaps having been
brought up in the most refined society, he was one
who studied comfort more than appearances. After
partaking of the various dishes as they came up with
each successive course, he at last came to what he
had specially ordered — a goose, a dish of which of all
things he was most fond. This he attacked, in the
brief absence of the waiter for a few minutes, disdain-
ing to use the plate which had been placed for him,
but grappling with the bird in the dish itself ; and,
as he got through it, throwing the bones over his
shoulder into the fireplace behind him. To his
astonishment, when the waiter returned, he found the
goose had almost disappeared, without the usual
fragmentary relics, which had been disposed of as I

15—2

228 MEN OF MY TIME.

have said. The man in his bewilderment looked at
Mr. Wreford, who blandly explained :

' In eating small birds like these, waiter, I generally
eat them bones and all.'

His simple habits and preference of comfort to
ostentation were, of course, displayed in his home. He
used to have his fried bacon and potatoes served from
the frying-pan, which stood on the hob of the fire-
place in his breakfast-room, on to a nice hot plate.
On one occasion a friend partaking of this early meal,
whose appetite had been sharpened by a long ride, in
his hurry to appease his hunger scalded his mouth
by hasty indiscretion. The burned visitor was ex-
tremely savage at this, and said he ought to have
been reminded of it.

' No,' replied the host. ' If you had been told of
it you would have done so the next time ; and it is far
better to learn a lesson of a friend that will never
be forgotten, than elsewhere at the expense of

strangers.

I don't doubt the story is true ; but it has a great
resemblance to another one I have heard. A little
boy was eating some very hot pudding, which brought
tears into his tender eyes. His grandfather, seeing
this, compassionately asked the reason ; and being-
told that it was because it was the anniversary of his
grandmother's burial, was satisfied, and incautiously
turned to eat his own portion, and, burning himself
severely, in his pain cried out :

A CONTRAST IN SHOOTING. 229

' Bother you and your grandmother, too!'
I once visited Mr. Wreford, at Gratton, for a few
days' woodcock- shooting, which in that part of
Devonshire is often very good. But I was unfor-
tunate ; for it rained for three weeks incessantly, and
caused me to extend my visit, in hope of a change
for the better. As it turned out, I had only a few
hours on the last da}^ I stayed, and killed two and a
half couple in the afternoon before leaving. Mr.
Wreford once came to my place at Woodyates to
have a little shooting. He was greatly astonished at
the difference of the two counties. In Devonshire
you kick an old cock pheasant, or a rabbit, or maybe
a partridge, out of a hedge into which you have
just driven it, a few yards before your nose ; and
you mostly bag it. He told me in this way some
wondrous feats of his shooting ; such as his having
killed ten shots in succession, and hardly missing
anything the whole day that got up within shot of
him. But this I take to mean within ten or fifteen
yards of the gun. Now in our open fields the birds
are often extremely wild. Late in the season in
crossing the first field, when side by side, a covey got
up about forty yards or more from us, and flew
towards the hedge, over which they very quickly
disappeared. But I fired and killed a brace, falling-
one each side of it. Mr. Wreford did not fire his
gun off, but, in great astonishment, said :
' I never saw it done like that before.'

230 MEN OF MY TIME.

I asked him, ' Why did you not shoot ?' and he
replied :

' I thought they were out of all distance ; they get
up so much closer to us in Devonshire.'

I have previously, I think, mentioned Mr. Wre-
ford's name in connection Avith the notion of keeping
the sheep off the Downs and watering the gallops.
In both cases he was the originator of the idea. The
water-carts were tried by Lord George Bentinck ;
but the system was found too expensive for practical
use — or, at least, did not give compensating results,
the water being too far off — and the undertaking was
abandoned. The other idea was more successful.
Mr. Wreford argued that, as in the young plantations,
where sheep did not go, the grass was not only
longer, but the herbage thicker, and consequently
more retentive of moisture and better able to stand
the effects of dry weather than where it was cropped
by sheep, the Downs also would be improved if they
were kept off them. At Danebury the Downs have
been so preserved until this day.

Mr. Wreford was a man of good common-sense,
prudent and careful. He was a rationalist ; believing
only in what he could see ; and he used to say ' he
should like to live here as long as he could, know-
ing what this life is, but not what the next might be.'
Poor fellow, he was destined to suffer great distress
before leaving the former. A delicate wife, and
family disappointments which have been hinted at,

SIR EDWARD BAKER. 231

must have contributed to his affliction. The last
time I saw him, he was at the age of eighty steeped
to the lips in poverty, and overwhelmed with grief.
Sir Edward B. B. Baker, Bart., was one of the
Danebury patricians whose name is familiar in the
ears of racing-men ' as household words.' He raced
from the year 1828 to 1865, and had never a large
string ; nor was he wealthy enough to support many
more horses than he kept ; for in all things he was
extremely liberal, and spent his income without grudg-
ing. He had Dairy Maid, Mr. Watt, Nicodemus,
Bran, Spume, Montezuma, and others. Bran was his
best horse, but Spume his luckiest. With him he
won the Blandford Cup and Stakes, Queen's Plate, Wey-
mouth and Dorchester Stakes, and other good races.
My brother John rode for him on all occasions. He
never betted but a few pounds ; but he dearly loved
to see his horses run, and whether they won or were
beaten it was the same to him, in so far that he
never displayed any ill-temper at his reverses, nor
was he immoderately elated by success. ' It's no
mean happiness,' therefore, ' to be seated in the mean.'
Sir Edward left Danebury to come to train with me
at Woodyates. Not, I need scarcely say, from any
dissatisfaction, but because Woodyates was much
nearer his own seat, Ransom, than his old quarters
were. As I hope some day or other to be able to
give a fuller account of the doings of those gentlemen
who have honoured me with their patronage during

MEN OF MY TIME.

my life as a trainer, I will only here say of Sir
Edward, that he was unsurpassed in all the good
qualities that a man of taste and honour may
laudably desire to possess.

Sir John Barker Mills, Bart., was another faithful
adherent of the Danebury stables. He was remark-
ably vivacious in manner and disposition. He lived
at Mottisfont Abbey, not far from the Stockbridge
racecourse, a good part of which he owned and leased
to my father, and afterwards to my brother John.
Like Sir Edward, he cared not a fig where his horses
ran in the race. He was not, comparatively speaking,
a rich man ; but kept a good house, and was quite
one of the old style. Once, after a long run of ill-
luck, of which he never complained (in fact, I should
think such a thing never entered his head), on his
winning a little race at Stockbridge, he hastened
from the stand to meet my father, as the latter was
returning from the scales, and greeted him with a
cheery :

' Hallo, John ! we have won again !' and received
the congratulations of his friends with unfeigned
delight.

Sir John's patience was certainly unexampled in

my experience, except in the case of Mr. A , a

proctor of Doctors' Commons, who trained with my
cousin Sam Scott, son of Mr. Scott of Ascot Heath.
Sam was a trainer at Houghton Downs, Stock-
bridge. He never had many horses or employers, but

SIR JOHN B. MILLS.

in the patron I have named he had one who made up
in goodness for the paucity of numbers of those who

honoured him with their confidence. Mr. A , after

training with him for fifteen years without winning,
came to Stockbridge to see his mare La Malheureuse
run in the race next day. In the evening Mr.

A said to my cousin :

' I hope we shall win, Sam, to-morrow.'
' Oh yes,' was the reply ; ' we shall win, but you
are always in such a hurry,' an answer which I need

not say caused hearty laughter. As Mr. A

raced in Sam's name, I don't know what horses he
had, nor is it important that their names should be
set down. It must suffice to say that on this occa-
sion the mare did win, after running a dead-heat.
I should add that my cousin was, I think, the laziest
man I ever saw. He was almost too lazy to eat and
drink, and died when quite a young man, though
not from want of sustenance. In fact, he was just
the opposite to the industrious American who, we are
told, ran so fast that he overtook his own shadow.

Sir John suffered martyrdom from the gout,
occasioned partly, no doubt, by his own indiscretion.
He was fond of fishing, and an excellent fisherman ;
and after every attack of his old enemy, he would,
as soon as he was a little better, with the assistance
of a stick or an attendant, hobble into the meadow
through which the river Test runs, near to the
Abbey, where mostly he caught — besides fish — a

234 MEN OF MY TIME.

cold, and the gout to follow, which used to lay him
up again for months. And I suspect, too, that he
was fond of good living, which helped to feed the
gout as well as himself. When he came to the races,
or in fact to Danebury to see his horses, he came in a
carriage with four horses, with two postilions and
two outriders, all dressed in livery — blue, red cuffs
and collar ; and though he could scarcely step out of
his carriage, he would set the gout at defiance, and
have some champagne if nothing else. He had a
narrow escape of being thrown out in the yard one
day after the races. The postilions, who had re-
freshed themselves liberally, in their haste to enter
the yard drove against the gate-post with great
violence ; but beyond a severe shaking, happily it did
him no harm.

He had running, about this time and later, Cerva,
Bar One, Cymba (which he bought of Harry Hill
after the Oaks), Volunteer, Giantess, Miss Elis,
Pugilist, Margaret of Anjou, Bed Doe, The Slot, Deer
Stalker, Black Doe, Pet of the Herd, and Remus.

I have always understood that he was very fond of
cocking. At any rate, his entire approval of the
sport may be inferred from the fact, that many mains
were fought at two inns which were his property,
and not far from his place — The Bear and Bagged
Staff, and The Mills Arms, Dunbridge, to wit. With-
out his sanction these contests could not have taken
place. He died from his old enemy the gout, after a

SIR JOHN B. MILLS. 235

Ions: illness, leaving a widow and niece, besides
innumerable friends, to deplore the loss of one so
loved taken from them at so early an age. I may
say of him that he never had an unpleasant word
with either his trainer or jockey, who remained his
attached and faithful servants to the end. His niece,
I may add, married that most estimable gentleman,
the Hon. Henry Curzon.

CHAPTER XV.

MEN OF MY TIME, OR DANEBURY PATRICIANS

(continued).

Lord Howth — Acuteness in racing — His help in purchase of
Sultan. A thorough sportsman — Hawking — Shooting at
Boveridge — A novel ' get-up ' — A spoiled servant — Lord Sligo ;
Lord Glenlyon ; Mr. Pryse-Pryse.

Mr. Ealph El wall — Appearance — Does much on limited
means— His stud and winnings — Success in coursing — Eemark-
able purchase of greyhounds — My first red coat — Objection to
vails to servants — Management of Wild Dayrell — Confidence of
the stable — Expatriation — A visit to Cholderton.

Lord Dorchester — Produce of Little Bed Mover mare —
Buccaneer — Cruiser — A body of wise men — My father at Dane-
bury— Love of his profession — A brief spin with the hounds.

I may, in this chapter, introduce some account of the
noblemen from the sister countries who were amongst
those that trained with my father at Danebury. Chief
of the number was the well-known sportsman, Lord
Howth, of Howth Castle, Dublin. He kept but few
horses ; but no man understood racing much better
than he did. In his small stud, the two animals
most worthy of mention were Wolf -Dog and Peep oJ
Day Boy. The former was the winner of many races,
and the latter of the Chester Cup in 1848, as a four-

LORD HOWTH. 237

year-old, beating thirty-three others. His lordship
had also the half of all the horses out of Foinviella that
ran in Hill's name. He betted but little ; but it is a
proof how thoroughly he knew what he was doing,
that when he backed anything, you might be sure
the animal would win, or be very near the winner.

I think he raced more in Ireland than here, and no
one knew better the form of Irish horses. He made
my father buy St. Lawrence, which won him many
races ; and I can't forget that it was through Lord
Howth's acuteness in finding out Sultan, and his
kindness in writing to me and saying, 'He is a
charming horse; come and look at him, and I am
sure you will huy him,' that I secured that animal
for Lord Anglesey. In consequence of this invita-
tion, I went over to Howth Castle, where I was
received with much kindness, and treated with true
Irish hospitality. I saw Sultan at Slane Castle, Lord
Cunningham's seat, and paid 1,000 sovereigns for him ;
and Lord Howth, I remember, was good enough to
send on his groom with him to Woodyates. The
horse was about the only good animal Lord Anglesey
ever possessed, winning the Cambridgeshire for him,
beating Mary second, Dame Judith third, and a
large field very easily. Soon after this Lord Howth
had a filly to sell, called Termagant, good for little, or
was thought so, I should suspect. He parted with her
for 1,000 sovereigns to Lord Anglesey, but, be it said
to his praise, without mentioning the matter to me in

238 MEN OF MY TIME.

any way. I was lucky enough to win the Chester-
field Cup at Goodwood with her, after which she soon
changed hands, which was even more fortunate, as it
was, I believe, her sole victory.

Lord Howth was not one of those who want to
see their horses run every day ; nor did he wish to
see their names amongst the list of winners unless he
had backed them. He would abide his opportunities,
even if he had to wait years for them ; and when
they did come, he seldom made a mistake. In short,
he was a model of sagacity in turf matters. He
usually stood in ' a pony ' with me on anything I
backed of my own for a handicap ; but as a rule he
preferred it should be on one of the long races at
Newmarket or Goodwood.

His son-in-law, Sir Charles Dormville, lived at
Boveridge House, near Cranbourne, Dorset, which he
rented, with the shooting, of Mr. Brounker. Sir
Charles was fond of hawking, and often would make
use of my downs at Woody ates for the enjoyment of
the sport. It is a sport that always, at least, looked
dangerous work, because to follow it you have to ride
fast whilst intensely watching the hawk and his
quarry in the air. Yet I never heard of any serious
accident from it. On one occasion Lord Howth came
to Woodyates on his way to visit Sir Charles and
Lady Dormville, his daughter. After looking at the
horses, and having a long chat, he invited me to shoot
with him next day, which I did. I must confess that

A NOVEL 'GET UP.' 239

I was at first struck with his lordship's 'get-up.' He
was dressed in a light suit of clothes, and trousers
that came no lower than his knees, leaving his legs
bare to his boots, into which his socks, if he had any
on, must have disappeared. I never saw the like of
the dress before or after ; yet I am not sure that it is
not a good one for its special purpose. For in walking
after rain or heavy dew through high turnips and
rape or clover-heads, you might as well be walking
through a river so far as the use of any description of
leggings may serve to keep out the wet.

His lordship was a fair shot, and walked well for
his age, which was then about sixty. The first part-
ridge that got up between us, I left to his lordship ;
but before he could shoot, to my utter astonishment,
the keeper fired and killed it. This was repeated
several times, until I could hold my tongue no
longer.

' My lord,' I said, ' if I had a keeper, he would not
do such a thing a second time.'

' Oh,' was the reply, ' he is a spoiled old servant,
who has lived many years with Sir Charles, and is
allowed to do pretty much as he likes.'

We had a good clay's sport, and before parting his
lordship said :

' William, Sir Charles does not care about the
shooting, and is not going to keep the house another
year ; so, if you like, you and your friends may come
whenever you please. The keeper won't interfere

2 4o MEN OF MY TIME.

with you, as he is going to another place of Sir
Charles's directly.'

I thanked him, and had some good afternoons'
sport over the property, it being close to my own
house, and showing a variety of game in fair quanti-
ties— partridges, pheasants, hares, rabbits, and particu-
larly woodcock, for which the coverts were noted.

Lord Sligo was little known on the Eno-lish turf :
for he was content to keep one or two horses
at a time. He had Wedge, Winter, and Wire, but
not many other good ones ; and, of course, out of so
small a stud, anything beyond a win now and then
could hardly be looked for. And this was about all
he ever accomplished in England. He kept a larger
stud in Ireland, but with what success I do not know.

Lord Glenlyon, a Scotch nobleman, commenced
racing at Danebury in 1843, in my father's name,
with Ben y Ghlo and brother to Pharold, which were
both winners. The next year he raced in his own
name, and had, besides the two horses referred to,
Hotspur, The Mountain, Glencroine, Lycurgus, and
several others, which he ran with fair success. Ben y
Ghlo alone wron him no less than three cups, as many
Queen's plates, and six or seven other races. After
his lordship's succession to the Dukedom of Athol,
he raced but little, and, so far as I know, did nothing
worthy of record. I never saw him ; in fact, he
never was at Danebury the whole of the time he
trained there. But I have always heard him spoken

MR. PRYSE-PRYSE. 241

of in the highest terms of admiration, as a nobleman
who raced neither for money nor anything else but
the pleasure of the sport.

Mr. Pryse-Pryse, of.Buscot Park, Aberystwith, a
contemporary of Mr. Harry Biggs before mentioned,
was one of the earliest patrons of Danebury, if he did
not, like Lord Palmerston, train with my grandfather
at Houghton Downs. He commenced racing in 1811,
and between that year and the time of his leaving
the turf, in 1848, had the following amongst many
horses: Grimaldi, Caliban, Bobtail colt, Frances,
Duplicate, Dr. Eady, Cardinal Puff, and Buscot
Burl: Of these the three last named wTere probably
the best, and won him many races.

Mr. Ralph Etwall, another gentleman associated
with my recollections of Danebury, was for many
years the representative of Andover in the Liberal
interest. He was born in or near the town, about
the year 1802. He was the most ungainly person,
and for a gentleman the most uncouth, that ever I
saw. His brother William, brought up as a Blue-
coat boy, was little if any more polished than himself.
Yet I suppose the fault was not due to want of edu-
cation, for their parents possessed two or three free-
hold estates of live or six hundred acres each in
the neighbourhood. Mr. Ralph Etwall, it would
appear, soon ran through his property, as a conse-
quence of the cost of his election contests ; for in
those days the Liberals stopped at few things to

16

242 MEN OF MY TIME.

secure a seat. He was fond of field-sports, and kept
an extensive establishment, which in itself was ' more
than his faint means would grant continuance.' Yet
he hunted, raced, and coursed, and managed to do all
three for more than fifteen years — a result due, I
believe, to his success in racing rather than to any-
thing else.

He commenced racing in 1832, and continued with
varied success until about 184JJ. His earliest horses
were Caleb, Goldfringe, Maid of Underly, and Revenge,
amongst others ; and later on he had Hill Coolie7
Thistle Whipper, Rustic, Auburn, Palladium, Passion,
Discord, and the last Ira. The following races
were placed to his credit by Thistle Whipper : the
Champagne Stakes at Bibury ; Two-year-old Stakes
at Stockbridge; a Sweepstakes of 50 sovs., half ft,, at
Newmarket Houghton meeting ; and the horse also ran
second for the Criterion Stakes at Newmarket. Revenge
won him £80 and £20 at Bibury ; £60 at Stockbridge;
the King's Purse, £45 and £65 at Winchester ; the
King's Purse, £180 and £90 at Salisbury ; and the
Warwick Cup and £30 at Abingdon.

I do not know that his love of coursing proved
very costly, for though he kept a large kennel, he
kept it with fair success. I don't think he ever won
the coursing blue ribbon, the Waterloo Cup at Altcar.
He was, indeed, best known in the south, at Everley,
Amesbury, and Ashdown Park, at which meetings
most of the best trophies fell to his share.

MR. RALPH ETWALL. 243

An amusing and correct account can be oiven of
his purchase of two greyhounds. A friend of my
brother John's had two to dispose of, and said he
would willingly give a trial beforehand. So a day
was fixed to suit Mr. Etwall, and the place Danebury.
Before the dogs were put in the slips Mr. Etwall
asked :

' Have they ever seen a hare ?'

' Yes,' was the curt reply — ' twenty-four, and killed
them all without a miss.'

This was being asked to swallow too much. In
fact, the effect of the confident statement was so Great
that the dogs would have been returned untried had
not my brother John sai< 1 :

' Try one, anyhow.'

' Yes,' replied the owner, ' and put your best dog
with him, or he won't see which way mine goes.'

The suggestion was complied with ; a hare was
started, the dogs slipped, and, after a long course, the
stranger's dog killed his hare, just entering the rings
one hundred yards in front of Mr. Etwall's dog. The
surprise of the latter gentleman may be more readily
imagined than described. But, recovering himself,
he volunteered to have a trial with the stranger's
other dog, asking the owner which he thought the
best of the two.

' There's no difference,' was the answer. ' Some-
times one kills and sometimes the other.' Then the
man added, in absolute seriousness, ' Now do put

16—2

244 MEN OF MY TIME.

your best dog with him this time,' a request Mr. Etwall
was not at all slow to comply with. For this second
course a good hare was started in a capital place, and,
after a long slip, Mr. Etwall's ' best ' dog did not gain
a point, and the other killed single-handed in splendid
style, never giving the hare a chance.

At this result Mr. Etwall was even more astounded
than at the previous one. Here was a man with
only two greyhounds, brother puppies, and both able
to beat his best dogs easily ! It was a most extra-
ordinary thing, and naturally created in Mr. Etwall
a most ardent desire to become the possessor of the
treasures. However, he proceeded cautiously in his
purpose ; and, after chatting matters over, he asked
quietly :

' How much do you want for them ?'

' A lot of money,' was the brief reply.

' But how much ? and what do you call a lot of
money?' was inquired again.

w Fifty pounds the brace, and not a shilling less,'
said the man, evidently thinking he had put the
wealth of the Indies on them. Of course they were
boimht without the shilling abatement beim*- sus:-
gested ; and a few weeks after Mr. Etwall won £800
in stakes, besides bets ; the latter not a large addition
to his winnings, as betting on coursing was not so
much in vogue in those days as it is now, or he
might have won as many thousands with them as he
did hundreds.

' WILD DAYRELL: 245

I have said that Mr. Etwall hunted; and when I
was a boy of about ten, and weighed about 3 st. -i lb.,
he made me a present of a red hunting-coat, top-
boots, and leather-breeches, of which costume I was
not a little proud. Indeed, I followed the hounds
with him for two or three successive seasons with
enthusiastic delight, and well looked after by his
watchfulness.

He was peculiar, as I have said, and one of his
peculiarities was, that he never would allow you to
give any of his servants the smallest gratuity. He
used to say that he paid them, and that that was
enough. Acting strictly on the same principle, he
would never give anything to anybody else's servants,
no matter what they might have done for him. Never-
theless, on one occasion when leaving Danebury late
on a very dark night, he was tricked into departing
from this rigid rule. The man that held his horse,
knowing his oddity, kept walking before him with a
lighted lantern. This naturally elicited an inquiry as
to what he was looking for.

' Sir,' answered the man gravely, ' I have dropped
that shilling, if you gave it me.'

This had an electrical effect, and in an unguarded
momeut Mr. Etwall parted with the memorable coin.
But never before or afterwards, to the best of my
knowledge, was he committed to so indiscreet an act
of liberality.

Mr. Etwall was a great friend of Mr. Popham, of

246 MEN OF MY TIME.

Little-cote Park, the owner of Wild Dayrell. The
horse was trained privately by Mr. Rickaby, Mr.
Etwall having the entire management of him. Wild
Dayrell did most of his work in Lord Craven's park
at Ashdown, in summer, or on the Downs adjacent.
Mr. Popham had but two or three horses, none of
which were good enough to lead Wild Dayrell in his
work; so Mr. Etwall purchased Jack Sheppard of Mr.
Ewbank for the purpose. But, like the rest of the horses
that galloped with Wild Dayrell, he was found, with
John Charlton the jockey on his back, unable to extend
the crack, leading the latter' s sanguine friends to say
that such a wonder had not been seen for years, and
that winning the Derby would be as easy to him as
winning a £50 plate. Wild Dayrell won the race;
yet, in my opinion, he had to thank Aldcroft, who
rode Lord of the Isles, for his victory rather than any
merit of his own. Mr. Popham did not after this
keep many horses, nor did he do any good with those
he kept, his luck having come all at once — or ' all of a
lump,' as the old woman graphically described it
when she found the sixpence.

I do not suppose Mr. Etwall won much on the
race; for he very shortly afterwards had to give up
racing and coursing, and left England heavily in
debt. He lived many years in seclusion in France,
only running over to visit some old friends occasion-
ally, and then in strictest incog. He outlived his
brother William, the breeder of Andover, winner of

LORD DORCHESTER. 247

the Derby, who died a young man in straitened
circumstances, having led a life of celibacy. Mr. R.
Etwall paid me a visit at Cholderton Lodge in 1882;
the chief object in doing so was to tell me of a letter
that he had written anonymously to the papers, saying
howr much he liked ' The Racehorse in Training ' — a
letter I never saw. He was then in straitened circum-
stances. He lived till over eighty, earning his liveli-
hood by his pen, as a contributor to the papers. He
came of a long-lived family, his mother dying a few
years before him, at the patriarchal age of ninety-eight.
Lord Dorchester had but few horses. He bred, in
1841, the celebrated Little Red Racer mare, who, for
want of being christened, remained nameless to the
day of her death in 1858. She was out of Eclat, by
Edmund out of Squib, by Soothsayer. Her -first
produce, The Chase, by Venison, won his lordship a
race at Ascot. Then came the celebrated Cruise/',
who ran second in the Criterion to the Duke of
Bedford's Para in 1854, and Bracken and Buccaneer.
Of these two, his lordship sold Bracken to Mr. Gully,
and Buccaneer to Lord Portsmouth. The latter, by
Wild Dayrell, was a real good horse ; and, after
winning the Two-year-old Stakes at Stockbridge, the
July Stakes at Newmarket, and the Molecomb at
Goodwood, became a favourite for the next year's
Derby. He was, however, beat easily; and rumour
asserted that he had been poisoned, many people
believing that he was. But I should hardly myself

2 48 MEN OF MY TIME.

take it to have been the case, judging from his running
so soon afterwards at Goodwood, where he won; and
at Newmarket, when Thunderbolt only just beat
him, as he could many others. However, his victory
in the Royal Hunt Cup, in 1861, was sufficient to
prove his speed ; and Mr. Cookson was very fortunate
in securing so good a horse as a stallion, though
more unlucky in parting with him to the foreigners
before his worth at the stud was known.

Cruiser, the horse notorious as unfit for anything,
because of his dreadful temper, became, under Mr.
Rarey's treatment, as quiet as a lamb in the stable.
But though he made his tamer's fortune, he remained
useless for practical purposes ; for I never heard of
his winning, or even running anywhere afterwards.
Mr. Rarey made £10,000 in one sum by disclosing
his secret to a select number of gentlemen and
trainers, anxious to add to their store of knowledge,
and pay £25 for the privilege. In other words, there
were 400 persons who paid for the information. But
I am told that even Mr. Rarey could never under-
stand how, out of America, such an intelligent body
of men, at such a price, could have been got together.

I have now enumerated amongst the staunch
supporters of the Danebury stables in my father's
time, Lord Glenlyon, afterwards Duke of Athol ;
Lords Palmerston, Dorchester, Sligo, and Howth ; Sir
J. B. Mills, Sir Edward B. Baker, and Sir Lewin
Glyn ; and Messrs. Biggs, Farquharson, Wreford,

MY FATHER AT DANEBURY. 249

Pryse-Pryse and Etwall. Surely these supporters
were enough to have kept him from lack of horses to
train, even without the aid of Lord George Bentinck !
Of my father himself, in his professional capacity, I
ma}*, in closing this special reference to the patrons
of Danebury, say a few words. To him, his business
was a pleasure. He was never away from it when
he could be there. His whole thoughts were
absorbed in it, until it became an enjoyment, as real
as lasting, of which he partook without stint. He
brought it, by indefatigable labour and arduous study,
to a pitch of perfection in all its bearings, to which
it had never attained before. Once at Danebury,
in reply to a nobleman who asked him if he hunted,
he replied laconically :

■ Yes, I hunt every day, my lord, with my horses
— that's my hunting.'

Nevertheless, in fine weather, when the hounds
met at Clatford Oakcuts, a cover close by, he would
about two or three times in the season meet them,
mounted on a thoroughbred, and wearing a great-
coat. Directly they found, he would ride to the
tail of the hounds ; but at the first check, which was
often caused by his over-riding, he would take out
his watch, and say to those that might be near him :
' It's half-past twelve, gentlemen, and I am off to my
dinner,' and would gallop a good part of the way back
again ; and this comprised the whole of his amuse-
ments, outside of his home and stable, for the year.

CHAPTER XVI.

MR. SWINDELL.

Origin — Takes to the turf; shrewdness and reticence — His first
'coup' with Mr. Merry's Chanticleer — Horses — Weatherbound in
the Cambridgeshire ; extraordinary trial ; his confidence and
the Admiral's disbelief — Sir Joseph Hawley's opinion of Beacon ;
beat by Bevis — The match with the baronet ; the latter pays
forfeit ; diamond cut diamond — Brocket run for Ruby ; how
Ruby was kept Derby favourite — Exposure of a dishonest
trainer.

Character — Employment of touts ; generosity ; business
capacity — The Burton Brewery — How we parted — Attitude to
his trainer — Bectitude — Non-interference — Instances of coolness
— Love of a good story — Examples — Adaptability — Prudence
— Last days.

Xo more remarkable figure lias appeared upon the
turf in recent times than Mr. Fred Swindell. His
career, whether it be taken as an example of a
struggle against initial disadvantages, as a success in
varied undertakings, and specially in a line that he
had made his own, or as preserving intact to the end
the idiosyncrasies of a peculiar temperament, may
not only teach a lesson, but is in itself interesting as
a tale to be told. Mr. Swindell was born, I believe,
in Derbyshire, not far from Buxton. His parents

SHREWDNESS AND RETICENCE. 251

were of the labouring class, from whom he could
have received few, if an}', of the advantages of educa-
tion. He was married twice, his first wife being one
of his own earlier rank in life, more studious of her
husband's comfort than of appearances. His first
occupation was to clean out engines ; for which pur-
pose boys of about twelve years old were generally
employed. He did this so well, and with such un-
tirinsr energy, that in a short time he had saved
enough to promise himself a treat. This treat was to
walk on foot to the races, about thirteen miles from
the scene of his work, intending to win something, or
lose what little he had laid by by his early industry.
Fortune favoured his selections with such unwaver-
ing success, that when he returned home at night
he at once determined to leave the cleaning of
engines to others, and to follow racing, and become a
backer of horses. Like every other adventurous
person, he soon left his native place and the scene of
his early success for London ; and, like Johnson and
Garrick, reached it on foot.

He entered on his new occupation full of youthful
hopefulness, and no long time elapsed before he
became a man in request as a commission agent. He
possessed certain sterling qualities that led to this
success. Not least of these was the dogged de-
termination which caused him in early life to lose
no opportunity to secure a prize, however small,
when within his reach. He was always to be seen

25 2 MR. SWINDELL.

at his post at the Corner, or at the Club, or any
other public resort of betting-men. Here his shrewd-
ness and perseverance brought to a successful end
any business which he undertook, combined as these
qualities were with sobriety, and above all, with
reticence. In this particular he seemed to have laid
to heart the moral law of the Persians, which taught
' that however a man might be deficient in the quali-
ties requisite to actual excellence, the negative virtues
at least were in his power ; and though he perhaps
could not speak well if he was to try, it was still
easy for him not to speak.' And being a temperate
and discreet man, he was well fitted to keep secrets
he had committed to his charge, as is so well expressed
in the following couplet by Francis :

' And let not wine or anger wrest
The entrusted secret from your breast.'

I never saw him riding on horseback — perhaps he
never saw a horse until the eventful and lucky day
on which he first visited the races — nor ever wearing"
a great-coat. He would drive to the meetings and
station himself in one part of the ring, whilst his
satellites were doing the work in another, bringing
him from time to time information as to where and
how the commissions entrusted to them were executed.
Mr. George Armstrong, his faithful henchman, was
his constant attendant and great ally, through whom,
in the latter part of his life, all matters of business
were conducted. Poor George, poor and honest, and

HIS COUP WITH ' CHANTICLEER: 253

a puppet in the hands of his friend and patron, was a
irentleman and a dandy. Fred Swindell himself, on
the other hand, dressed always in a funereal suit of
black, as though in mourning for some animal whose
death - blow had been administered by his skilful
hands. Like Mr. Padwick, in his frock-coat, black
satin stock, and tall hat, he could be easily dis-
tinguished from all other members of the ring.

The first great 'coup' that Mr. Swindell brought
off was for Mr. Merry with Chanticleer. His shrewd-
ness in this case was remarkable ; and to it Mr. Merry
probably owed his success. He executed the com-
mission, which was a large one, to his own satisfac-
tion, and to that of his employer. A second was
given with a like result ; but strange to say the horse
became no better favourite. This strongly excited
Swindell's suspicion, and he said to Mr. Merry :

' There is something wrong. What it is I don't
know, but we must find it out, somehow.'

Bumby was to ride the horse, and it was suspected
that the book-makers knew more than the commis-
sioner, and indeed the upshot of the matter can lead
to no other conclusion. Swindell, therefore, suggested
that Mr. Merry, on his return from Edinburgh to
attend the race at Goodwood, should bring with him
a spare cap and jacket. This was done, and they
were handed by Mr. Swindell to another jockey,
C. Marlow, on the morning of the race. Bumby
was then informed that he was not wanted to ride

254 MR. SWINDELL.

Chanticleer that day, and the murder was out. Chanti-
cleer in a few minutes returned to favouritism, backed
by his detractors for anything they could get ; but
even so, they lost a large stake through his winning.
After this, as was only natural, Mr. Swindell's
services were eagerly sought by those who thought
they knew what they were about ; and he gained a
position that he never lost, and the reputation for
shrewdness and reticence which followed him to his
grave. He then, after the manner of his predecessors
and contemporaries, took to keeping horses of his
own, having a few in different stables, so that he
miffht obtain information in what he would call a

o

straight way and at the proper time, which was just
before the race itself. He owned several good horses.
Sawcutter, which he sold to Mr. Naylor, of Hooton,
for whom he won the City and -Suburban. Amongst
others, he had Wallace and Minotaur, and the Truth
gelding, which — trained, I think, by Mr. Matthew
Dawson — as a four-year-old, with 5 st. 12 lb. on him,
was beat a head for the Cesarewitch ; Tomahawk,
winner of the Lincoln Handicap ; Cecil, trained by his
Epsom trainer, besides many more trained by William
Treen, myself and others. Wallace and Weather-
bound were his two best. In late years he had several
horses trained in stables that I never heard of until
he told me. Somersault, a good horse, broke down
with me, and I wished him to take him out of training.
Mr. Swindell requested me to send him to a place

'WEATHERBOUND'S' SUCCESS. 255

named in his letter. Two years afterwards, not
having run in the meantime, T was surprised, when
at Shrewsbury, to find the horse in training, fat as a
pig, without a leg to stand on, and in such a con-
dition, as might be expected, easily beat in the only
race he ran in.

Weatherbound 's trial and performance in the Cam-
bridgeshire deserve special mention. After Dulcibella
had won the Cesarewitch, on which Mr. Swindell,
like the rest of us, had won a good stake, having
done the commission, he said to me :

' I wish you would train a mare of mine. I have
two in one stable at Newmarket, and I am displeased

with , who is training them ; but, not wishing

to injure him, I have ordered one of the two to be
sent to you to-night.'

The mare was Weatherbound, and she, as is well
known, won the Cambridgeshire that year, though
Mr. Swindell did not think of racing her till the
following spring. Indeed, he said to me :

' Take her home, and enter her when you like ; and
when you have tried her, next spring, tell me what
you think of her.'

It happened, however, that Precise, a mare of mine,
though she ran in Mr. Parker's name, was well in
that year, and probably would have won the race
much easier than Weatherbound did, had she but kept
well. But, as she did not, I struck her out when all
chance of her running successfully was past hope.

256 MR. SWINDELL.

Dulcibella was first favourite, and Weatherbound at
100 to 1. I tried the two on the Thursday morning
before the race, and telegraphed the result to Arm-
strong in cypher. He would not believe it, suggest-
ing that a mistake had been made, either by the
telegraph clerk or by myself. But Swindell was of
a different opinion.

' It's right enough, lad,' he said (using his familiar
expression in addressing his intimates) ; 'go and put
the money on, and if we hear anything from William
to the contrary, we will make the best of a bad
bargain.'

This was done, and the mare backed for a good
stake, and all know how she served her competitors.
The trial itself is worth recording. It was as
follows :

'One Mile and a Distance.

JFeatJicrhound, 3 yrs., 7 st. 5 lb. . . .1

Dulcibella, 3 yrs., 7 st. 5 lb. . . .2

Schism, 4 yrs., 7 st. 5 lb. . . . .3

Bevis, 4 yrs., G st. . . . .4

Won by two lengths ; half a length between
second and third ; Bevis being two lengths from
Schism ; and this trial was confirmed in substance
two days after. The two mares, I should add, were
very much alike, at least in colour and size ; and
the ' wags ' at Newmarket, on our return in the
Houghton week, jocosely said we had brought Dulci-

THE ADMIRAL'S MISTAKE. 257

bella back and called her Weatherbound, and so got a
little weight off her.

It is not often that you see two first favourites for
the great handicaps win thern both, and in the same
stable. I may say here, that on entering the town,
opposite the Rutland Arms Hotel, I met Admiral
Rous, and he asked me what I thought wTould win
to-morrow, and I told him Weatherbound. To this
he replied :

' Nonsense ! she is heads and tails with a dozen,
and to have a chance you must have completely
changed the nature of the animal.'

The Admiral went down to assist at starting that
year, and the mare got badly off. On his return to
the stand, just before he got into the crowd, he said
to a man he met :

' Which has won ?'

' Weatherbound,' was the curt reply.

' Nonsense !' he answered, for the Admiral, too, had
his familiar word — ' Nonsense! she never got off.'

This was confirmed by wThat others have said as to
the around she lost at starting;. So much for the
judgment of the great handicapper and turf legis-
lator.

After this Mr. Swindell owned but few horses, I
think, and the only one of any note was Lucy Glitters,
who at the time he bought her for £900 was lame,
or very nearly so, there can be no doubt ; and she
never did him any good. Amongst others, he did

17

258 MR. SWINDELL.

many of Sir Joseph Hawley's commissions. The
baronet would often pay him a visit at his house
after dinner, and in the temper resulting from liberal
indulgence, would abuse him in language more
forcible than refined. But this was a failing of Sir
Joseph's. He was haughty and intolerant of opposi-
tion. From pure love of contradiction he would, if
you said one thing was right, unhesitatingly declare
it wrong, and try to prove it so to your face even in
his more sedate moments, regardless of the mischief
he might make. Sir Joseph bought Beacon out of
the Danebury stable, and very soon discovered that
in his new trainer's hands he was, in his opinion,
improved two stone, and that the Northamptonshire
Stakes was a gift to him. Fred Swindell, therefore,
put £2,000 on the horse for Sir Joseph, and stood
a monkey on him himself, regarding the race as one
of Sir Joseph's real good things. On this occasion
he lent me Minotaur to try Bevis with, saying :

' If you can beat him, lad, at a stone, you will
"copp"' — another expressive term of his, meaning
' you will win.'

I tried first at a stone, and afterwards with even
weights, when the young one won again, and
cleverly, too. He did our commission, as well for
Mr. Parker as the stable, and stood in £100 himself,
remarking that if he had the monkey ' off ' Beacon he
would have stood one on ours. In the result, Bevis
won in a trot, and the wonderfully improved Beacon

DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. 259

nowhere. I may say here that little Bevis, quite a
pony, was the worst goer I ever saw. When he
cantered up the course before the race, a well-known
horse-dealer laughed at the exhibition he made, and
said it was a pity such a horse should be brought to
the meeting, much less allowed to run ; an opinion of
which I reminded him afterwards, when he still said
he could not understand how a horse with such
action could win.

There is a good and true story to be told of a
match that Mr. Swindell made with the baronet.
Just before the time appointed for it, Sir Joseph's
horse was taken ill and could do no work, although
he was on the spot. This information was no doubt
supplied to Swindell by his touts. But his own
horse was in a much worse plight, not being able to
leave the stable at all. Thinking Sir Joseph would
never run his horse in such a state of health, or rather
illness, he ordered his trainer, Mr. William Treen, of
Beckhampton, to bring another horse of his that was
something of the same colour, and to say nothing to
anyone as to what it was, or its age, and not to satisfy
anv inquiry as to what he was intended to run for.
This had the desired effect, and it was immediately
concluded by the touts — those astonishing judges of
horse-flesh — that the real Simon Pure had come up
for the match, and the unwelcome news was forth-
with conveyed to the baronet by the men employed
for the purpose. The match was for £200 a side,

17—2

26o MR. SWINDELL.

half forfeit. Mr. Swindell went to Messrs. Weatherby's
office in the evening and paid in two hundred-pound
notes, to make stakes for the match he had with Sir
Joseph the next clay, and straight away left for his
lodgings. Sir Joseph, coming immediately after the
other had departed, said to "VVeatherby :

' Have you heard anything of Swindell's horse?'

' No, Sir Joseph,' was the reply; 'but he has just
been here and paid his stake, so of course he intends
to run.'

' Then,' says Sir Joseph, ' I pay forfeit,' and the
matter ended.

Of the truth of this story there can be no manner
of doubt, for Mr. Swindell told me it himself, and
indeed approved what I have said when alluding to
it in my previous work. I may add, that he told Sir
Joseph of the ruse afterwards, but the baronet would
not believe him.

I remember a very similar case, when Ruby, or a horse
that was run as Ruby, won the Althorp Park Stakes
in a way in which that race has never been won
before or after : the horse literally cantered in. He
was trotted and cantered back to the weighing en-
closure much in the same way that some of the horses
were for the Cambridgeshire in Catch Jem Alive's year,
his saddle taken off and himself covered up with
immense cloths in the quickest possible manner, and
was never seen at Northampton again. Now, if the
jockey, owner, or trainer knew it was the right horse

< BROCKET " i?LW ^S' 'RUBY.' 261

and carried the right weight, what motive could have
suggested this unnecessary haste? The solution of
this intricate problem was, according to Mr. B. Way's
account of it, which I had from himself, the following :
Jones, then his trainer, took Brocket — a horse that in
the following year won the Royal Hunt Cup with
8 st. 5 lb. on him — without his knowledge, order, or
consent, to Northampton, where he was not entered
for a single race, and placed him in a box by the side
of Ruby. The man that had to take the horse out
was no doubt aware of what was being done ; and
instead of taking Ruby out to run, he took Brocket,
and, on account of the alleged fractiousness of the
real horse, had him saddled at the post. Consequently,
before the race was run, the horse had not been seen
by anyone ; and by very few after it, through the
hurry in which he was taken away, to say nothing of
the difficulty attending his recognition swathed in
clothing, as I have described. The horse was then
taken back to his box proper, which no one knew he
had left beyond those concerned in the fraud. Mr.
B. Way said he did not know even that Brocket had
left Prestbury until he returned to it ; and although
convinced of the robbery, was not in a position to
prove the facts.

Another clever thins; was done with this same
horse Ruby for the Derby. For that race he was an
immense winter favourite. He had no chance for it,
being amicted in his respiratory organs. Yet that

262 MR. SWINDELL.

clever party, Mr. Atkins, his owner, assisted by his
astute trainer, managed that the failing should not be
detected. They went further, and even invited people
down to see the amount of work the horse was
doing, and the gallant way in which he was doing it.
It was dodged in this way, I am told. He used to be
galloped round a hill, about half or three-quarters of
a mile, whereas the real or farther course, which he was
always supposed to go, was a mile longer, making the
supposed gallop a mile and three-quarters. The hill,
I understand, excluded any view of the horses except
at the start and finish; and as the horse always went
the shorter course, he was always credited with doing
it very quickly, and always pulled up exceedingly
sound and well ; and to further prevent the chance of
suspicion falling on him, he was galloped with a horse
well known to be a confirmed roarer. This deception
they managed to keep up so long as there was a shilling
to be got out of the horse by laying against him,
when the bubble burst, and he was struck out of the
race.

Later in life, Mr. Swindell showed his shrewdness
and sagacity in detecting and partly preventing a
great swindle, of which a friend was the intended
victim. Two wretched knaves, betting-men, aided
and abetted by an ignorant but subtle trainer, in the
shape of a lately turned-off stable boy as wicked and
contemptible as themselves, Avere the intriguers. The
names, though well known, I refrain from giving, as

DETECTION OF A FRA UD. 263

nothing would be gained by the uninteresting infor-
mation ; and it would only add pain to innocent and
respectable persons in other ways connected with the
plotters, whilst the culprits themselves have long
since passed away to the shady region of oblivion.
The story runs thus : Mr. A., then training in the
country, had just received with much pleasure the
report of a successful trial of his horse, G. P., that
morning, for the Chester Cup, in which race he was
entered, and leniently treated by the handicapper, and
in turf phraseology was thought a good thing. Mr.
Swindell executed the commission, and put a large
stake on him, which, however, made him little or no
better favourite. This naturally excited his sus-
picions, as it would have done a much less confiding
mind. He felt sure there was an undercurrent at
work, which he could not fathom. He expressed his
doubts, and requested his friend to go and see the
trainer at once. This the other did not like to do,
but said :

' If you will go, I will accompany you, but not
else.' Swindell's antipathy to visiting trainers or
seeing horses anywhere but on the racecourse I
have named. However, on this occasion he overcame
his aversion in the interest of truth and justice, and
went. A telegram announced that in the afternoon
they might be expected, and would like to see the
horses. After exchamnno' common civilities and a
few words of a general character on their arrival, they

264 MR. SWINDELL.

came to the point and asked if the horse was ' well ' ?
' Never better,' was the welcome reply. After par-
taking of some refreshment, doubly acceptable after a
long journey, no time was lost in carrying out its
object, to see this particular horse. He looked in
blooming condition, to all seeming as fit as anyone
could wish to see him ; but they were told, as he had
done his work before the receipt of the telegram, he
could not go out again. He stood, as is customary
in many stables, in a set of woollen bandages. "When
they requested that these might be removed, they
were assured by the trainer it was quite unnecessary
and contrary to his practice ; and for fear of upsetting
the horse, he begged they would not think of his doing
anything so unwise. Mr. Swindell, however, said
the owner would not rest content unless he saw, at
least, the bandages taken off his fore-legs, and he
peremptorily requested this to be done at once —
when the mystery was solved. The trainer had then
to relate that the horse had met with a severe acci-
dent whilst at exercise, and nearly severed the main
tendons by coming in contact with some sharp cutting
instrument, which of course rendered him useless for
the season, if he would be ever fit to race again. He,
however, by way of explanation, said he thought but
little of it, and hoped it would soon be well : but in
reply to further inquiries, he could give no satis-
factory reason why the horse had gone back in the
market after all the money they had backed him for.

'STARTER' AT GOODWOOD. 265

The horse never ran, it is needless to say ; and with

the rest of Mr. A 's horses was at once removed

and placed under the charge of a better man. The
cause of his withdrawal from the Chester Cup was
explained, but discredited ; and attributed to the
dishonest motives of the owner and his friends, on
Avhose shoulders the blame rested, whilst the real
miscreants escaped with impunity. I may add, that
the few horses that Mr. Swindell had at the place
were removed at the same time ; and the trainer lost,
as he deserved to do, two good patrons.

Coolness in all circumstances was one of Mr.
Swindell's marked characteristics. He was seldom
put out of temper under any disappointment. The
only time I remember his being moved in this way
was at the result of the Goodwood Stakes in Starters
year, in spite of his assurance ' Not a jot, not a jot,'
when to his surprise my horse won. He had backed
him, although he had the first favourite in Cecil,
which he had backed for a large stake too ; for his
Epsom trainer had told him that he was as sure to
win as Starter was to get beat.

' In all his life,' he declared, speaking of the latter
horse, ' he had never seen such a poor brute ; and,'
he added, ' if he wins I'll eat him!' reminding one of
poor Feist, when he declared in print that he would
perform the same feat if Casse-Tete won the Grand
National at Liverpool. In both cases the horses did
win, and the words, not the animals, were eaten. In

266 MR. SWINDELL.

the instance at Goodwood, the utterance of these
idiotic words shook to the foundation the small
faith that Swindell had in his little trainer's judg-
ment as to the condition of his own or anyone else's
horses.

One of his marked peculiarities was the fondness
he had for the opinion of ' touts.' Many of the^e
gentry would call upon him daily, or rather nightly ;
and though in the midst of dinner, he would leave it
to learn what they had to say. with as much alacrity
as he would to attend a lord or a duke. After hearing
what one man might have to tell him, he would return
to the table, only to be disturbed by two or three
more on the same errand before he had finished the
meal. On these occasions he would expect to be
told of some extraordinary trial that had come off, or
was about to take place ; the knocking out of the
favourite, or the introduction of a new one. To all
he listened eagerly ; though I don't presume to say
he often or ever acted on information received from
such sources. He was far too clever for that. But,
as he used to say, whilst cracking his sides with
laughter, ' he liked to hear what the vagabonds had
to say, and that the amusement was worth paying
for.' *

Hew^as capital company. Many of his expressions
were extremely witty, and his stories, if somewhat
ancient, were told with a drollery that, to use his
own term, ' was hard to beat.' He was certainly

THE BURTON BREWERY. . 267

of a generous disposition. To many of his old
' friends ' in adversity that he had known in better
circumstances, he used to allow a pound a week.
Meeting one of his impecunious acquaintances stand-
ing outside a public-house, he said inquiringly :

' What's up now, lad ?'

To which the other wittily replied :

' I am dining out. I have just had a pork-pie and
a quart of beer with my last shilling.'

' Here is a sovereign,' was the prompt rejoinder.
' Go and rob some one as quick as you can, and bring
it me back.' Of course the suggestion was only his
fun.

His investments in the Barton Brewery Company,
at Burton-on-Trent, gave him much anxiety at one
time, as his capital in it appeared gone, and the
speculation a failure. His friends Messrs. Parker,
Dale, and Snewing all lost confidence, and sold out
at a great sacrifice. But here the common-sense of
which he was always proud, if he thought highly of
any of his capabilities, did him good service, aided
by his shrewd and business-like habits and his inde-
fatigable energy. He thought he saw his way clear
to advance still more money, but refused to do so
unless he was made a director ; and then he added
another and last sum of £20,000, in this new
capacity. He soon found scope for his ability, and
detected the leakage, and remedied it by the removal
of the head-brewer and cooper. After this bold

268 . MR. SWINDELL.

stroke in the right direction things soon worked
better. His next move was to hire a lot of men,
both in town and country, to call at public-houses
and hotels which the brewery did not serve, to ask
for its special brew, whether in beer, ale, or stout.
On being told it was not kept, they would express
their surprise, and declare they ' could get it just
above, or just below, or round the corner,' and would
leave for the apparent purpose of obtaining it. This
ingenious way of getting customers may not have
been novel, but it was a legitimate method of in-
creasing trade ; and more, it was effective, and with
the further help of good management, so raised the
value of the shares in the company that Mr. Swindell's
investment in it of £70,000 became a valuable pro-
perty. I have this statement, like most others relat-
ing to himself, from his own lips.

He once bought a large wholesale ironmongery
business in the City, doing a large trade, for one of
his relations — a nephew, I believe. But this young
gentleman wanted to run before he could walk, and
kept his brougham and pair of dashing horses, visited
nightly theatres, casinos, and other places of amuse-
ment not of the most moral character, and so ruined
his health and fortune, and brought on a premature
death. A miser was once told by one of his old
cronies that ' his son was dissipating his fortune,' and
calmly replied that ' if he has only half the pleasure
in spending as I have had in getting it, his happiness

ATTITUDE TO HIS TRAINER. 269

must be complete.' But Mr. Swindell thought dif-
ferently, and took possession of the business and dis-
posed of it to a stranger.

Mr. Swindell left me when I became private trainer
to Sir Frederick Johnstone and Mr. Sturt, now Lord
Alington. I had the privilege of training for Lord
Durham and other noblemen and gentlemen ; but
those of whom they did not approve had to leave,
and one of them was Mr. Swindell, or probably he
would have remained with me to the day of his death.
He was in many things a pattern to racing-men,
worthy of all imitation ; for he never, in my experi-
ence at least, asked the trainer, or anyone else
connected with the stable, a word about other
people's horses at an improper time, or until the
mornino- of the race. Indeed, he seldom wanted to
know anything of his own much earlier. He never
arranged the weights of a trial (though he suggested,
as 1 have related, that Bevis should receive a stone
from Minotaur) or saw one ; nor did he ever see a
horse of his own or of anyone else in my stable
during the many years I trained for him, though
often asked to do so. He used to say, ' What can I
know more after than before I have seen him ?'
Carrying out the same principle, however strange it
may appear, he never saw any of his own horses at
any place where they might be for the purpose of
running, in the stable ; nor did he see one on the
heath, except when racing, and then only in, or after,

270 MR. SWINDELL.

the race. And he certainly never saw one whilst
saddling, nor his jockey weighed in or out, nor spoke
to him before a race. All this he wisely left to his
trainer.

He was by no means fond of personally taking stock
of the horses in their gallops before any great race ; nor
would he see his own take exercise, although he may
have had the first favourite. This was the case with
Weatherbound for the Cambridgeshire, although his
lodgings were close by, and he usually took his con-
stitutional before breakfast. For this purpose he
took the road by the Windmill, so as to preclude the
possibility of his doing such a thing. Yet few men
knew more of the condition of the greater part of the
horses than himself, or the intention of their several
owners. One morning, on my returning from the
racecourse side of the heath with the horses on their
way to the stable, whilst passing through Mill Hill
Square, where he happened to be standing with
his old friend George Armstrong, he said to me :

' Well, lad, has she ' (meaning Didcibetta) i passed
the college ?' laughing heartily all the while.

' What ?' I replied, thoroughly at a loss.

' Why, the college of touts,' he said, and solved the
seeming mystery.

When Dulcibella was at the Shoreditch station, on
her way to Newmarket, she was, before entering the
horse-box, seen by ' the clever division ;' and in their
own estimation they are not a few. She was

EXAMPLES OF COOLNESS. 271

disliked, being too small and far too light. Mr.
Swindell was on the platform waiting for the train ;
and the division came to him in a body, intending to
take ' a rise ' out of him.

' Fred,' they said, ' we are in a raffle ; make one
of us ?'

' What's up ?' he replied suspiciously.

' Will you make one ?' was again asked. ' It's
only a pound a piece — ten of us.'

' Oh yes,' he said. ' What's it for ?'

' Dulcibella,' was the answer, with a roar of
laughter at Fred and the mare he had backed. But
it did not turn out either that the mare was to be
had in a raffle, or that the laughter was to be all on
their side.

I have mentioned his coolness, or self-possession
under all circumstances. I was standing by his side
at Lewes one year in the betting-ring, when he kept
offering to back a horse that he knew could not win
unless all the rest tumbled down, with the intention
of bolstering him up in the market for an ulterior
purpose. Immediately they were off, he offered in a
loud tone to take £200 to =£100.

' Done,' said a man in the stand above him. ' I will
lay you, Swindell.'

Looking up at him coolly, he replied :

' Ah ! you have seen something ;' and of course it
was no bet.

A similar piece of nonchalance was shown on the

272 MR. SWINDELL.

course at Newmarket, when Foxhall ran for the
Cesarewitch. He was standing alongside one of
my former patrons, whom I had been trying to per-
suade to back him {Foxhall), but he hardly believed
in him, and said :

' I suppose he is a four-year-old?'
Swindell immediately replied in the gravest
manner possible :

' If I did not think he was five, at least, I should
not have backed him,' naturally causing a burst of
irrepressible laughter from all around him.

At Newmarket, latterly, he seldom left the fly that
brought him to the course, except to enter the Bird-
cage to discuss with gentlemen, or others of his own.
standing, things past and future, or to gather some
scraps of information ; or still better, to tell or hear
some good thing — as some adroit trick, or some
lucky hit made by an unlikely person ; for, as he said,
' Everyone had some game at which he is good.'
At Doncaster, Epsom, and Ascot he ahvays shunned
the crowd, taking up his station in some out-of-the-
w^ay place near the ring, known to his satellites, in
whose society he found plenty to amuse him. I
never saw him at a small race-meeting ; and it must
have been something particularly requiring his
personal attendance that would have drawn him to
such a gathering.

He dearly loved to have a chat with such wags as
Charlie Coghlan, Francis Ignatius Coyle, and latterly

TEN THOUSAND POUNDS AND A DINNER. 273

Jemmy Barber, and ' men of their kidney.' They
used to invent all sorts of extravagant, improbable,
and most outrageous tales for his amusement, and
declare, by all that was good and great, that every
word was to the very letter true. But of all the
innumerable tales, old and new, these gentry were in
the habit of relating to him, I think none took his
fancy so much as Coghlan's inimitably told story of
his double-event trial for a dinner and a wife. It
appears that he had seen in some newspaper that a
gentleman intended on the day of her marriage to
give the husband of his only daughter £20,000. He
therefore dressed in a becoming style, being a smart,
o-ood-lookinir fellow, and introduced himself the next
day, and the nature of his business, by saying he
could save the liberal father £10,000 — a bait suffi-
cient to ensure him a good start. He was asked to
luncheon, and after full justice was done to the viands
and wines,

' Now,' said his host, ' how can you save me
£10,000 ?'

' By taking your daughter,' he replied, ' at that
sum, instead of the £20,000 that you have agreed to
give her husband.'

A hasty exit with considerable force was the result ;
but ' £10,000 to nothing was always worth taking on
the off-chance of getting it,' as he remarked.

Another story, told by one of these amusing friends,
was to the effect that he, the relater, had never met a

18

274 MR. SWINDELL.

man that he could not get something out of. For
the express purpose of proving this, he made a trial
on an old miserly customer in business as a silver-
smith in Exeter. He entered the shop, and after
minutely describing with his fingers the shape of two
bars of gold, weighing together about 3 lb., a little
more or less, and of one of silver a trifle lighter,
asked for a particular estimate of their value. The
silversmith immediately invited him to dinner, then
just ready, which was enjoyed, with the dessert that
followed, immensely. Then came business.

' Have you got them ' (meaning the bars) ' with
you ?' inquired the host.

' Oh no,' was the reply : ' I am going to California
in a few days, and thought I might find some.'

After these stories were told, the relaters mean-
time having copiously quenched a very extensive
thirst, would ' beg a favour ' under the spurious guise
of a loan, which, through the generosity of their host,
would be readily forthcoming in the shape of a gift.
I should not forget to mention that when one of his
trainers, James Godding, looked in on Mr. Swindell
at his lodo-ino-s at Newmarket on a certain convivial
evening, he was asked by his host what it would
cost to paint a face and nose complete like his. To
this Jemmy had a ready answer — ' He could not
say; it was not finished yet.'

Mr. Swindell was conversant with the ways of
every grade of society, from the lofty to the humble,

PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS. 275

and was as much at home with the one as the other.
His association with the former was, however, merely
for business purposes. He made no effort to raise
his own social position beyond what his occupation
naturally accorded to him. He sought companions
in the middle class, though he often found recreation
in the company of those beneath him. Beyond a few
immediate friends, he did not care for company in the
best sense of the word. In one room of his house a
peer would be seated, trusting his presence unknown,
hoping to secure a loan of £1,000; whilst in the
next, Swindell would be attending to the wants of a
returned outcast desirous of borrowing a £10 note to
start him in business again with a barrow and a moke.
And he would feel more pleasure in assisting the one
as a gift, than the other on the security of ' a promise
to pay.' Indeed, in his bill transactions he was not
happy. He lost money over them, discovering, as he
said, that the 'professional borrower' knew much
more than he did, and so gave it up.

He was often appealed to for advice in any difficult
or delicate question. A gentleman, Avhose name he
mentioned, but I have forgotten, once said to him :

'Fred, Mr. So-and-So has paid me £100 twice;
what ouidit I to do ?'

' Why, ask him for it again,' was his prompt reply,
much to the amusement of himself and friend.

As of others, so of him, stories are told of his
gallantry and the influence he had with the sex. But

18—2

276 MR. SWINDELL.

whilst he was always ready to avow his admiration,
he was equally ready to declare that their intrigues
he could not fathom. I have mentioned, in an earlier
chapter, that he had the repute of being a judge of wine.
This was undoubtedly his due. He once enjoyed a
very fine old bottle of port at Salisbury when
staying for the races, and offered the late Mr. Henry
Figes, of the Three Swans Hotel, a guinea a bottle
for every drop he had in his cellar. The offer was
refused, and the special bin immediately christened
' Swindell port ' ! And for a period after, whenever
called for, with diligent search the landlord usually
found one; and for years it was the very last bottle.

Every action of his life was characterized by pru-
dence. One of his earliest precautions was the invest-
ment of a sum that would bring him in £100 a year,
'just to keep me and the missus,' as he phrased it.
' The rest I can play with,' he said. He lived for
some time at 18, Berkeley Square, until, being offered
a good premium, he ' copped ' and disposed of his
bargain. He then went to Craven Hill, and after-
wards to Barnes, by the side of the river, until he
settled in his own house, Royal Crescent, Brighton,
where he died. He had his faults — who has not ?
And he had especially to fight against the lack of
education. He was, as I have said, never out of
temper ; neither chagrined by defeat nor elated at
success. I never heard him swear or speak evil of
anyone in jest or seriously. Of him it may be truly

LAST DAYS. 277

said : He was not a ' pipe for Fortune's fingers to sound
what stop she pleases.' He never would allow any-
one to open the front-door but himself when at home,
and this he would do fifty times a day or more. His
object in this, I imagine, was that he did not want
anyone to know but himself who came ; and then, as
he used to say, ' they ' (meaning his servants) ' could
not tell anyone.'

His custom was to breakfast at ten, and dine at
half-past six o'clock, seldom taking anything between
meals. He was a hearty eater, and drank moderately
of wine, especially port, though never to excess. But
he paid the penalty of even moderate indulgence, and
had to undergo a serious illness and painful operation,
and to be content with the more wholesome if less
palatable old Scotch whisky. The last time I saw
him was at Brighton, on the Esplanade, in a cold
wind, without a great-coat. We chatted matters over;
but he felt his time for leavino' this world was at
hand, and said he did not think he should live long
— nor did he. lie left his wife well provided for, and
several annuities to different persons ; and the re-
mainder of his great fortune, .€140,000, he left to his
son. But, on very good authority, I am told he left
£100,000 more. Whether this remainder was con-
cealed to save succession duty or not I don't know,
but should think it very likely.

CHAPTER XVII.

TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

Training at haphazard — The brothers Stebbing — Own Flatcatcher
and other good horses — Accidental success and ultimate failure
— Barber and Saxon — First association — Horses owned con-
jointly and separately, and their doings — Mistakes in selling —
Oaks victory and subsequent decline — Saxon and the thief.

Mr. Thomas Parr — First start— His patrons — A large stable
and few runners — Love of plating — A mystery ; how was it
done <i — Training from a hayloft — Sale of Fernhill and Isoline
— Embarrassments — A lucky release — Bovine appearance of
Rataplan— Disappointment in the St. Leger— Misuse of good
horses ; Saucebox, Fisherman, and others — Mortimer's defeat at
Chester — Curious excuse — How he got Weather gage ; unex-
pected performances and curious treatment — Errors in training
— A word for George Hall.

That there is ' nothing succeeds like success ' is a
truism ' as old as the hills,' and likely to be as lasting.
You may be the cleverest person in the world, and
the whole world may know it ; but if you are not
lucky, your talent, however brilliant and judiciously
applied, is not appreciated, and every action of your
life is criticized and condemned. Reverse the case,
and you find men without ability or energy, if but
momentarily fortunate, praised for virtues which they

■ THE BROTHERS STEBBING. 279

do not possess, and which are only to be found in the
imaginations of admirers more foolish than them-
selves. This is by no means an over-drawn picture,
but a plain fact that may be seen every day of one's
life ; only to make us exclaim, ' Can such things be,
and overcome us like a summer's cloud, without our
special wonder ?'

In the training of racehorses this anomaly has been
seen in more instances than one, in which professors
guiltless of the rudimentary principles of their pro-
fession have been successful beyond expectation. In
these cases, it is true, the success has not been of a
permanent nature ; yet, whilst it lasted, brilliant
enough to have given them credit before the world
for qualities which they never possessed. Of a few
such men I propose to give some account. The
brothers Stebbing — William and Henry — deserve
notice in this way. Their father lived at Newmarket,
and for many years was a barber. It was here the
sons were brought up, if they did not in early life
take part in the same business. William very soon
became an adept in the mysterious art of betting ;
and his successes enabled him to join a brother pro-
fessional, Mr. B. Green, in forming a racing stud,
with his brother Henry acting as trainer. Hamble-
ton, in Yorkshire, was the place selected for the
purpose. The confederacy commenced racing with a
small stud in 1846, about the time Lord George
Eentinck left the turf. In the following year this

28o TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

increased fourfold, and they had some thirty horses,
or more, in training — as they called it. At this time
they had, amongst other good animals, Assault, Flat-
catcher, and Beverlac, as two-year-olds, to do battle
for their respective engagements in that and the
following years. In this the adage ' that it never
rains but it pours ' was singularly confirmed ; for all
three were good horses, and carried off triumphantly
most every engagement in the first year, winning
large stakes for the stable. In the following year
they were equally lucky in another way ; for all the
three horses, after being favourite in turn for the
Derby throughout the winter, added more to their
coffers by not winning that race — which everyone but
themselves thought they were secure of — than by all
their previous victories. At all events, this was the
popular version of the matter at the time, and most
likely the correct one. No doubt the defeat of
Shylock in the Derby was a severe blow to them,
though they did not lose on the race. The next year
things did not improve with them. They relied on
Lady Superior to win back their lost laurels ; but
fortune brought but disappointment, from the effects
of which they never fairly recovered.

Such a string of horses as they had might, if
properly managed, have been a fortune to any but
themselves. But, if they had the luck to get the
horses together, they did not understand how to
make the best of them ; and. from a variety of cir-

ULTIMATE FAILURE. 281

cumstances, either in the training or the misplacing
of their horses, most likely in both, their career came
to a short and inglorious conclusion, through that
never-failing source of disaster, lack of funds. There
could scarcely have been found elsewhere three persons
together so unfitted for the several parts they had
to take in the purchase and management of a racing
stud. How limited was their knowledge, may be
gathered from what I have related of their previous
histories. Besides, their build, in its bulkiness, was
against them. They lacked the activity and energy
that alone give success to judgment and well-matured
plans. Mr. Green took little interest in the manage-
ment of the horses, and rarely, if ever, saw them tried.
He preferred the comforts of his own fireside, and the
solace of a well-replenished snuff-box, to leaving his
bed at four o'clock in the morning to see what, he
freely confessed, he did not understand and had no
taste for. After the death of the other two, Henry
Stebbino- trained for Mr. Osbaldeston and others with

o

better success, for even in his case I must suppose
' long experience made him sage.'

We have another similar case in the partnership
between Messrs. Barber and Saxon, although it lasted
longer, and was on a much larger scale. Where these
gentlemen sprang from I have been unable to dis-
cover; although it was said, when they first came
into notice, that they hailed from ' the black country,'
where it is probable they worked in the mines. The}-

282 TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

were gamblers at heart, and Barber as fond of billiards
as he was of racing, or any other species of gaming.
The two were as eccentric in manner as characteristic
in dress. Barber always wore a black suit, loose-
fitting trousers, resting in wrinkles on a substantial
boot, a swallow-tail dress-coat, with a clerical necktie
and hat to match. Fancy wearing such a dress in a
betting- ring, by the side of his partner, who resembled
a badly-dressed keeper, if you substituted trousers for
the leggings generally worn by the game-killing frater-
nity ! I should very much doubt if either of these
sages ever saw a racehorse till they saw one on the
racecourse. From fortunate speculations on other
people's horses, they formed a stud of their own.
Saxon was thought to be the trainer, and Barber to
attend to the commissions ; though 1 think, in most
matters, they acted conjointly, and like so many
cooks, spoiling their own good things. From what
date their confederacy commenced must be a matter
of surmise ; for Barber ran many horses in his own
name, as did Saxon also. The latter in 1851 had
Black Doctor, who did him good service ; but, like
Yellow Jack, he was more noted for the number of
times he ran second, than for the races he won. He
was second for the Chester, Manchester, Doncaster
and Ascot Cups, being beaten by Joe Miller in the
latter very easy. These were disappointments ; but
a greater one befell him subsequently, when Mary had
to put up with running second to Sultan for the

MESSRS. BARBER AND SAXON. 283

Cambridgeshire. This was, however, entirely due to
his own mismanagement. The mare was not more
than half tit when she ran, and stood still entirely
from want of training when she had at least a stone
in hand. Barber had many running in 1856, and
probably others before that, which had not until this
time been doing him much good. Pretty Boy fell at
York, which may have prevented him winning the
Great Northern Handicap, in One Act's year, as neither
she nor anything else of the same age could give
him 7 lb. when fit. But that is the question. I
think that, like the rest of their horses, he had to
train himself by running in public races, and was not
really fit until much later, when he showed himself a
good horse by his victory in the Goodwood Stakes,
as a three-year-old, carrying 7 st. 8 lb. He also won
the Manchester Cup, and the same year ten other
races. Barber had also running about this time,
Commotion, Prince of Denmark, Prince of Orange,
Polly Peachum,, and Lord Nelson, which did him good
service. Prince of Orange was an unlucky horse,
or badly managed, as he only won five races out of
twenty-two that he ran for, and in one of these he
beat Yellow Jack at even weights, who was, as usual,
second. For several years the two men did little
beyond winning a host of small races, though now
and then a fair stake fell to their share. Saxon was
unlucky with Kennyside Hero in only getting second
for the Stewards' Cup at Goodwood, and doubly

TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

unlucky in the sense that had the prize fallen to
him, it would have added greatly to the other trophies
already adorning his splendid sideboard. Again, he
was unfortunate with Queen Bess in the Cesarewitch ;
for after running; a dead-heat with El Hakim and
Prioress, she was beat in the deciding heat, over
which he lost a good stake. Other horses did Saxon
good service, amongst them Mary, Tom Thumb,
Ancient Briton, Lady Hereford, and Princess Royal.
It will be seen that, like Mr. Barber, he showed him-
self in the naming of his horses devotedly attached
to the Crown, and remained to the last an enthusiastic
admirer of Royalty. He made a mistake in running
Misty Morn in a selling race at Chester, where he was
claimed. On another occasion, in a selling race at
Bath, I claimed Truant, the last in the race, of him
for £50 ; and ran him twice at Newmarket, winning
both times. He was claimed in the last race by Mr.
Munday, and from him passed into the hands of Mr.
Hodgman, without winning a race for either of them.
But as they sold few, the mistakes made by the confed-
erates in this way were not so numerous as in running
their horses unfit, by which they lost their money.

In the year 1861, in winning the Oaks with Brown
Duchess, they reached the zenith of their fortune,
and, like Brutus, were ' ready to decline.' For
though subsequently they ran horses with varied
success, both in quantity and quality, their stud
dwindled down till 1870, the last year in which I see

SAXON AND THE THIEF. 285

Mr. Saxon's name recorded in the list of winning-
owners, and Mr. Barber's in the year 1873, and
then only credited with £50 which he won with
Lothair at Liverpool. Thus a racing career of some
twenty years was brought to a conclusion, anything
but fortunate. Their aim and delight was to win
small stakes ; and in this capacity they were, in the
North and Midland counties, as much a terror to
their opponents as Mr. Parr was in the West and
Southern districts. But after many years of patient
endurance, they had to succumb to the inevitable fate
of incompetency.

Mr. Saxon had his watch taken from him at
Egham, one year ; but he caught the thief, and in
true Lancashire fashion, in an instant, tripped him on
his back and rifled his pockets, finding on him sixteen
watches besides his own, which alone he kept, and let
the ruffian go. Saxon was fond of good living, and
indulged his appetite, which was voracious. His
favourite dish was a rump steak. This he preferred
very tough to the tenderest. As he would say,
' There was something to bite at.' Though once,
favoured by luck as we have seen, and possessed of a
fortune, he died in needy circumstances, much the
same as he began life with. Mr. Barber survived him
many years, but I am afraid not in the comfortable
position which might have been looked for from his
many victories in the palmy days of yore. He died,
I believe, last year.

286 TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

I have now to give some account of a still more
notable person amongst those who tried their hands
at training without any knowledge of the science.
Mr. Thomas Parr, owner, trainer, and jockey, was
certainly one of the most remarkable men that I ever
remember to have seen or conversed with. I am
unacquainted with his origin. His occupation in
early life was that of an itinerant dealer in tea, which,
for economy's sake, he carried himself, and sold
retail to his customers, sticking strictly to the ready-
money system ; a principle rigidly enforced on him
by the factors whom he honoured with his patronage.
He usually travelled in the West, starting in the
neighbourhood of Weymouth, wending his way
through villages and hamlets to Plymouth. As this
business was not congenial to his feelings for the want
of success, or otherwise, he soon left it, and plunged
into the racing world, and succeeded.

It has been generally concluded that he only
trained for himself, as most of the horses he had ran
in his name. But this is a mistake. He trained for
Lord Lincoln (afterwards Duke of Newcastle),
Messrs. Sexty, Williams, Thornhill (the baker who
succeeded poor Glen, and got broke over Weather-
bound's Cambridgeshire), Robson, Padwick, Rich,
Thellusson, and, as I have specially mentioned,
Starkey ; and probably for many others of whom no
one ever heard but himself, for he was generally
pretty reticent over his own affairs. He was un-

• MR. THOMAS PARR. 287

doubtedly peculiar in his method of training his
horses, both in their exercise and in the management
of his stables ; peculiarities which have been described
and criticized in • The Racehorse in Training;.' Asrain,
contrary to the received opinion, after his consider-
able successes, commencing at or about the time of
Rataplan, he had a very large string of horses. But
many of them never saw a racecourse, wherein he
showed his wisdom, which indeed, in its way, was
not often wanting. I never remember seeing him
with more than two or three horses at any meeting.
This may partly be accounted for by the fact that he
mostly bought old horses without engagements, and
only entered them a short time before the event, in
any race in which he thought they would be likely to
win — and no man did this better. It may, no doubt,
have been pleasant to see them victorious, but it
would not have satisfied me ; for as to any tangible
results, it was but ' grasping the shadow without the
substance.' How strange is the contrast of so
meagre a string, with the numbers that some of our
best trainers have at different meetings ! I remember
sixteen or seventeen from one stable running at
Ascot, and some thirty at Goodwood. But of course
these were horses engaged a long time before, and
taking their chance of success. Mr. Parr had no
such inducement, as he preferred to keep running his
horses at all sorts of places for the smallest of stakes.
Mr. Parr commenced his racing career auspiciously

288 TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

in 1839, with the small number of two platers, and
won his maiden race with Malton, at Gorhambury.
From this date to 1846 he does not seem to have
increased his stud materially, nor to have run for
anything be}Tond selling and other small races. Twin,
after running seven times, was fortunate in winning
a stake of the value of £24 ; and Trojan, on his
victory, enhanced the contents of his exchequer by
another £25. Subsequently, he seems to have in-
creased his stud to about a score, still of the same
plating character; though in Giselle he aspired to
high honours, by running her for the Cesarewitch, and
spoilt her chance for future events by being second.
Still the performance was creditable.

Travelling long distances, and running for stakes
so wretched as those he occasionally won, could not
by any arithmetical conjuring be made to pay. I am
told that after an unsuccessful day, he and his horses
would vanish from the course without the usual cere-
monies at parting, to turn up at the next country
meeting, wherever that might happen to be. I confess
that the whole business is as inexplicable to me as
that of the mystical dealer in brooms, who, professing
to take the least profit possible on the wares he dis-
posed of, found himself yet undersold by a rival.
Anxious to get to the bottom of the matter, he sought
his opponent out and asked him how it was.

' I cannot do it for the money,' he said, 'and I steal
the stuff.' But was completely satisfied with the

TRAINING FROM A HAYLOFT. 2S9

answer that the other ' stole them ready made,' and so
at one and the same time saved trouble and expense.
But if I am mystified, I daresay Mr. Parr's faithful
henchman, George Hall, if he had been consulted,
or man}- of the hotel proprietors whom his master
honoured with his patronage, might have considerably
enlightened us on this interesting subject.

So, again, with, training, as Mr. Parr conducted it,
the business is a mystery to me. Training, like every-
thing else, is easy to do when you know how to do it ;
and so Ion 2; as things 2:0 smoothlv, one man can do
it as well as another. But when everything is wrong,
and unknown difficulties present themselves in every
direction, you must understand your business to be
able to overcome them, and this is just what the
unskilful cannot do. I once knew an elderly lady
who confidently assured me that her son was so
clever that he could attend to his farm in bed ; which
accounted for his not being seen till late in the day;
and, as a natural consequence, shortly after was not
seen at all. But I never before heard of a man who,
though gifted with the best of abilities, could train
horses from a hayloft. Yet this surprising feat of
ingenuity, I am credibly informed, was successfully
accomplished by Mr. Parr — to his own entire satis-
faction, at least. George Hall was his faithful attendant
on these occasions, for I fear they were not singular,
and would receive his instructions, and see them
carried out to the very letter. At all events, he knew

10

29o TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

his master's wants a great deal better than did the
many suspicious-looking gentlemen who so often
wished to see him, and so tenderly inquired for his
health. But, in training under these circumstances,
we can perhaps understand how Mr. Parr mistook
Fernhill for a plater, and sold him and some others,
with his house and stables, for half the value of the
one horse. Fernhill, the next year, won the North-
amptonshire Stakes and the Metropolitan. Isoline,
parted with under similar circumstances, won the
Goodwood Cup and other races after he sold her.

"When the new law of liquidation came into force,
Mr. Parr had no longer the need to enlist the services
of the faithful George, or lie perdu in a hayloft. He
could then <nve a gracious welcome to all comers who
had kindly done him a service; and though unable to
settle their little requirements at the moment, could
assure them that he had another good horse with
which to recoup him his losses, and enable him to
settle up everything with liberality. For, naturally,
he infinitely preferred liberty to confinement, and his
meals in his dining-room rather than in the loft. It
must be said of him that, alternating from good to
bad fortune in quick succession — to-day rich, to-
morrow moneyless — he bore his hard fate with ad-
mirable patience. Up to the year 1850, with the
exception of his old slave, Clothmaker, no one horse
in his numerous stud did more than pay its way, if it
did so much, and, in addition, provide sufficient for

'RATAPLAN'S' A PPEA KANCE. 291

the total expenditure. He had at this time a horse
running at York, which, from prudential motives, he
ostensibly sold to a friend for £300, with the con-
dition that that sum should be put on the horse for
the race for which lie was engaged next day. On
Mr. Parr's arrival at York, it is said that, owing to
some little inattention on his part, or it may have
been the want of some formality in respect to a bill
transaction, he was politely invited to visit the Castle;
which he did, and remained till the next day, when
the success of his horse enabled him to give consider-
ation for the document to which his valuable auto-
graph was attached, and he was enabled to leave,
delighted at the fortunate result.

From this date we see him associated with Rata-
plan, who, though raced in his name, was, I believe,
always the property ot Mr. Thellusson, as he ran as
his the following year. Rataplan was such a curiously
made animal that a description of him may not be
uninteresting. He was own brother to StocJcirell, and
half-brother to King Tom, by the Baron out of
Pocahontas; a good horse over a distance of ground,
but extremely plain. He was a dark chestnut with
white legs, long fore-pasterns almost amounting to a
deformity, plain head and Koman nose, short neck
and bad shoulders, with a large barrel, so cow-
hocked that his hind-legs nearly touched each other —
indeed he walked more like a Guernsey cow than
a racehorse, and galloped very little better, more

19—2

292 TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

closely resembling in appearance the bovine than the
equine tribe. His performances for such a misshapen
animal were wonderful. Out of twenty-nine races he
ran in 1854, he won eighteen ; many over long
courses, and at heavy weights. Here again it seems to
have been impossible for Mr. Parr to divest himself
of his plating proclivities. For Ave "find this good
horse doing the drudgery of a hack, and actually
despatched to Pontefract to run for a prize of the full
value of £15, which he won without the resemblance
of a race for it ; and again sent on further similarly
useful missions. With him in 1854, Saucebox in 1855,
and Fisherman in 1856, Mr. Parr may be said to
have had luck which few merited, and no other
trainer hardly met with. In the hands of a man who
thoroughly understood his profession, what, it may
be asked, might not the three have achieved ? That
he made the worse rather than the better of them we
shall see. Saucebox won the St. Leger, and Mr.
Parr should have won a really good stake. But he
had prepared his own disappointment. The horse
had lost the Great Ebor Handicap at York, simply
because he was palpably unfit, whilst Mr. Parr
thought he was well and sure to win. and lost a great
stake over the race. In the meantime, this and other
races in which he took part had been gradually pre-
paring the horse for the great event; but without his
owner s knowledge, who in his ignorance could not
take advantage of his great opportunity. And just

'FISHERMAN'S' PERFORMANCES. 293

consider the preparation that, in public, the horse
had had. In the early part of the year he won a
stake at Chester, a mile and a half, of the value of
£67 ; and before and afterwards several Queen's
Plates, two miles. In the summer he won eleven
races out of the twenty-eight in which he took
part. Pretty good preparation for a St. Leger
candidate !

Put this was nothing to the work that Fisherman
had to do, at the same age. It is certain that if he
had been properly, I had almost said decently pre-
pared, he would have won the City and Suburban,
just as easily as he won the Queen's Vase, or any of
the twenty-three races he won that year; and pro-
bably, if trained, half of his defeats would have
proved victories. But when we read of a horse such
as Fisherman was, running for £60 at Stamford and
£60 at Liverpool, what are we to think ? Indeed,
out of the races he won in this year, more than half
did not average £100 each, and for one of them,
value £30, he had to go all the way to Carlisle. In
fact, in spite of all the study he gave to the matter,
Mr. Parr signally failed in winning large stakes,
either in bets or prizes.

Besides Fisherman, Rataplan, and Saucebox, he had
another fair horse in Mortimer, his Chester Cup
favourite. Indeed, this race was regarded as an
absolute gift to him from the moment the weights
came out ; and, no doubt, if the horse had been only

294 TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

fairly prepared he would have won. But he was not,
and he was beat, though the owner always maintained
his defeat was due to the twisting of a plate, near the
winning-post. Yet some time after the horse goes to
Ascot, and carrying a heap more weight, wins the
Stakes ; and this undoubtedly proves that he ought to
have won at Chester. But Mr. Parr could always
hud excuses after every defeat, no matter how ridi-
culous or unreasonable. One instance is as good as
another for the purpose of showing this easy habit.
Fisherman one day is beat very unexpectedly, is sent
off at once, and after travelling all night runs the
next day at Abingdon, and wins easily, to the surprise
of everyone. There was little or no betting on the
race. Mr. Parr, when asked if he could account for
the difference in the running on the two days, calmly
answered : ' The sun was in his eyes the first time ;
and he never could run when it was so.'

( )ne more horse of wdiich Mr. Parr had the care,
Weatliergage, requires a special notice. Though run
in his name, the animal was probably not his ; but
belonged to Mr. Megson, just as Fisherman was
undoubtedly the property of Mr. Starkey. Neverthe-
less, of all the horses he had to do with, no one
did him so much credit. For with Weathergage he
achieved a triumph in training or management, or
both, that no expert could ever account for. The
whole story is so strange that it reads more like fiction
than fact.

PURCHASE OF < WEATHERGAGE: 295

Weathergage was the property of Admiral Pous.
And the Admiral said he had tried him fourteen
times and could never get him first. In consequence,
he was sent to Northampton with orders that if
he did not win, or get claimed, he was to be got rid
of in some way. Frank Butler, the jockey, brother
to William Butler the trainer, would not allow his
intimate friend, Sam Scott, to buy him at any price ;
and as no other purchaser could be found, the horse
returned to Xewmarket with the rest of Butler's
string ; and here he was bought for £10 by Mr.
Armstrong, and sent to Mr. Parr with the following
message : ' I have bought you Weathergage, and
think he will do you some good.' These are the
actual circumstances under which he came into Parr's
hands, the latter probably never having seen or heard
of the horse before in his life. About a fortnight after
winning a first race with him at Lewes, Parr takes
the horse to Bath, well knowing him to be a good
one. He meets the Admiral there and tells him so,
but is only laughed at for his pains. However,
Weathergage won, and Parr again assured the Admiral
that he was a good horse; but the more he told him
so, the less he was believed.

What the horse subsequently did — how amongst
other races he won the Goodwood Stakes and the
Cesarewitch the same year, is a matter of turf history.
But the most curious part of the whole business is
that Parr did not give himself time to prepare the

296 TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

horse before Lewes — assuming, as we may, that
the horse had been beaten for want of preparation in
his former races — but had tried and found him a
good horse almost as soon as he arrived at his
new training-quarters. We cannot, therefore, in
this direction discover how the improvement came
about.

Some curious incidents in the management and
running of Weaihergage may be briefly noticed. He
first wins £35 in heats, then in a gentleman-rider's
race Mr. Parr himself steers his favourite to
victory ; rather hard work for a three-year-old that
had so many and such great things set him to
accomplish. After being tried at home, Mr. Jones
of Prestbury tries him for the Goodwood Stakes,
which he wins. He is then immediately despatched
to Lichfield, to York, and Derby, where he suffers
defeat in the first four races, and, as a kind of set-off
to this disappointment, wins the two last, both on the
same day — one of them a mile-and-a-half race of the
value £179 ; the other the Innkeepers' Plate of £50,
two miles. After travelling nearly half over the British
Isles in search of £50 plates to run for, and horses to
try him with for the Cesarewitch — a service ultimately
effectually done for him by Joe Miller — he triumphs
in the dual victory, and, glutton-like, finishes up the
season by winning his best race with Charles Marlow
on his back, in the Audley End Stakes at Newmarket,
giving Black Doctor his year and 7 lb., and a lot of

ERRORS IN TRAINING. 297

weight to Adine and others, and beating them in a
canter.

Avalanche I should name as another of his
treasures, accidentally obtained from Captain Olliver,
who gave her to him for the payment of her forfeits.
Little, perhaps, need be said of Odd Trick and Malacca,
both Cambridgeshire winners, unless it be that the
former, like most of its predecessors, had plenty to
do, though the work must have been injudiciously
administered. He won the traditional .€15 in two
heats ; and, as no one dared oppose him, cantered
over for the Queen's Plate the same day. His platers
were too numerous to mention ; it must suffice to say
that though they won many races, they could not as
a whole have proved tinancial successes.

I have, I think, plainly shown in my description of
the horses and their eccentricities of running, that
something must have been wrong in their prepara-
tion. This might easily arise, if in no other way,
from the continued absence of the master from home.
No matter what races he had his horses engaged in,
nothing would keep him from personally attending a
selling meeting with his platers, to the injury of the
horses he left behind him. He did not, in short, err
so much in mistaking the merits of his horses, as in
not properly preparing them, as shown in the case of
Fisherman, Saucebox and Mortimer. Nor was it that
he worked them too little, but that he did so
injudiciously at inrproper times. He would most

298 TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

imprudently run the best horse in the world over
any course, even the worst, any distance for £20,
even though the unfortunate animal had on the same
day, or the day before, won him £2,000, and was
eno-ao-ed in a similar valuable contest on the next.
He would run if he had the chance every day of the
week, and travelled on Sunda}'s in readiness for
a race, at any distance, on Monday. Training under
such circumstances was out of the question ; nor do
I think he ever studied it much under any other.

A succession of good luck now brought him many
friends and much gain. Unfortunately he could
never manage to keep, for any length of time, the one
or the other — hence his perpetual troubles. ' The
Squire of Wantage,' as Argus used facetiously to call
him in the Morning Post, must have been at best
but a bad financier, and singularly unfortunate in his
monetary transactions ; for I believe he was scarcely,
if ever, out of the hands of money-lenders and
lawyers, and in debt to all of whom he could borrow
anything. He was served with more partly printed
papers, probably, than any man in the world ; indeed,
he used to say they would have covered the walls of
his own house. He died at about the age of seventy
in straitened circumstances at his house at Tit-
comb Regis, leaving a widow and son to lament
his loss.

These are by no means the only instances I could
point to, where men have presumptuously under-

A WORD FOR GEORGE HALL. 299

taken to do things they were totally unfitted to
accomplish, and unconsciously worked their own
ruin. It is true an accident may have made their
fortune, as it has made fortunes for others before
them ; but only to complete more speedily their
downfall. Nevertheless, Mr. Parr was a wonderful
character. Talented he must have been, and as
persevering as he was reckless in the waste of the
good things that came to him.

I have mentioned George Hall, his factotum, and
cannot close this chapter without a word in praise of
a character as marked as it was curious in type. He
spent his life in the faithful service of his employer,
who, without his aid, would have lost much of his
claims to attention. George would first attend to
the toilet of the horses, and then to that of their
master. Moreover, he rode them at exercise, in their
trials and for their races. He was patient in riding, and
steered many to victory under difficult circumstances.
In fact, the colours he rode in were, through his
instrumentality, better known than described. Tra-
dition says the}' were originally puce-and-white.
But, alas! age, and the effect of a variable climate,
left but the faintest trace of one colour, and none of
the other. Still, George in the old familiar Noah's
Ark jacket, with breeches and boots to match, on
Fisherman, was often vociferously cheered when
hailed the winner, as, after being weighed, he led his
gentle old favourite back to the stable with inward

3oo TRAINERS WITHOUT TRAINING.

feelings of satisfaction. Indeed, on the Western
circuit, George's victorious rush was as well known
and as much dreaded by the rest of the jockeys, as
ever were the performances of Buckle and Robinson
in their day at Newmarket. Whilst Mr. Parr him-
self, in the same colours and capacity as a gentleman
rider, was a veritable ' triton amongst the minnows.'

CHAPTER XVIII.

'lord of the isles.'

Doncaster Town Moor — A search for a yearling — Lord of the Isles
bought for Mr. Merry— Trial — AVins Lavant Stakes at Good-
wood ; Paradigm a good second — The ' owner's friend '-
Comments on my riding — My brother put up for the second race
— An invisible difference — Mr. Merry at "Woodyates — Remark-
able scene — Detailed trial for the Two Thousand — The race —
Rival owners and trainers ; heavy wagering — In the saddling-
ring — Mine wins — The owners after the race — The Derby —
Kingstown mysteriously backed — Why did Lord of the Isles lose ?
—A jockey's opinion — The real facts.

On the Town Moor of the far-famed Doncaster, early
in the morning on the Monday, and during the race
week, may be seen thousands of people from all
counties, and representing every class, eager to catch
a glimpse of the favourite. Conspicuous amongst the
throng, in number and enthusiasm, are the Yorkshire-
men themselves. Epsom and Ascot have their num-
bers, perhaps greater than any other race-meetings
can boast of, from the humble coster to royalty itself;
but as a county foremost in sport and all that relates
to racing Ave must place Yorkshire. Here it is the

3o2 'LORD OF THE ISLES.'

trainer has the hardest week's work of the year.
Horses to exercise, sales to attend, then the racing
itself, and afterwards a search for the best-looking
yearling, or, at any rate, those that are worth search-
ing for, bring a long and hard day's work to a
close. It was on such an excursion, the search for a
treasure of the kind, that I was bent, on the Wednes-
day evening of the St. Leger of 1853, when I was
led to inspect the Sheffield Lane, Mr. Johnstone's,
3*earlings. Here I found a colt that I knew not whether
to admire most for his fine shape and quality, or his
breeding — being by Touchstone out of Fair Helen, by
Pantaloon ; a bright bay with white legs and a star
on his forehead. In shape lie resembled his sire, but
without his power. He was lengthy and deep in his
fore-ribs, but light over his loins, and stood a little
upright on his fore-legs. But taken altogether, he
filled the eye and bore scrutiny. At the fall of the
hammer to my last nod for £350, he became Mr.
Merry's, for whom I bought him.

I had the pleasure of knowing Mr. Merry long
before this, having been of some service to him in
trying the high-priced Robbie Noble for the Cam-
bridgeshire— an event to which I shall recur pre-
sently, I have now to do with Lord of the Isles, as
this handsome colt was subsequently called. He
went to Woodyates, and was trained there with the
rest of my horses ; proving to be nice tempered,
though showing much courage and determination

WINS THE LAVA NT STAKES. 303

during the process of breaking. Afterwards a child
might have ridden him. Being a light shelly sort of
horse, he gave earl}' promise of his latent powers ;
and, after trying him successfully before Ascot, I
communicated the result to Mr. Merry at that
meeting, where I met him for the first time after
parting at Doncaster. I preferred to tell him by word
of mouth rather than in writing; for letters of this
nature, as I know to my sorrow, are often intercepted,
their contents ransacked, and then resealed and de-
spatched to their destination. After giving Mr.
Merry my reasons for preferring a personal interview,
and consulting Avith hini, we decided to keep the
horse for his Goodwood engagements. Both of these
he won in a rather remarkable way. As the events
formed the subject of much gossip amongst the
quidnuncs during the week, I may briefly relate the
particulars.

In the first race, the Lavant Stakes, I rode the
horse myself, as I did other of Mr. Merry's horses
at the time, and, after a close race, won by a head ;
Mr. Merry and the stable gaining a large stake, which
was probably doubled by his second victory later in
the week. The remarks made on my riding in the
first event were anything but complimentary to
myself, or, indeed, creditable to the good taste of those
who made them. ' I had come too late,' as many of
Mr. Merry's friends confidently assured him; or 'I
could have won k' a street." : Whilst others, and a

304 'LORD OF THE ISLES.

more numerous party, had no hesitation in stating;
from the very first that ' I had ridden the horse to a
stand-still, and but for his indomitable pluck must
have been beaten.' The acquaintances and wouTd-be
friends of owners of horses are a numerous class,
both presumptuous and officious. They know what
the owner can't possibly know, according to their
own ideas, and what is for his good, better than
those he employs. They point out the mistakes that
have been made in the training; and the riding of his
horse, or the utter folly of the ridiculous instructions
given by the trainer to the jockey. Even Mr. Merry
himself was not, on this occasion, proof against these
well-intended suggestions. He asked me if I objected
to my brother Alfred riding the horse for the second
race on the Wednesday ; and, of course, I replied that
I should be delighted if he did. Alfred was accord-
ingly put up, and the race ended exactly as the first
had done ; the fiat of the judge being a head victory,
after a most determined struggle. On this occasion
the jockey was, and very justly, eulogized for his
admirable tact — the patient skill in the early part of
the race, and the coming at the last with an electric
rush, measuring the distance to a hair. Mr. Merry
himself took a sensible view of the matter. In the
Lavant Stakes Paradigm had run his horse to a short
head ; and he very wisely said that she might have
been a real good mare, and so attributed his own
horse's victory by so short a distance to her merits

A REMARKABLE TRIAL. 305

and nothing else. But, of necessity, he could not
make his friends think so. Paradigm, T should add,
broke down in her second race, and never, so far as I
recollect, ran after that meeting, and was early put
to the stud. She became the dam of Lord Lyon,
Achievement, and others, and, we may conclude, did
General Pearson, her owner, more service there than
she would have done on the racecourse had she
continued running.

Lord of the Isle* did not run after as a two-year-
old, being kept specially for his two spring engage-
ments— the Two Thousand and the Derby. Of his
performances in both these races, I think I can find
something to say of interest. Mr. Merry came in the
spring to Woody ates for the first time. After seeing
the horses and looking at the traininsr-fiTound, in the
evening we arranged the weights and selected the
horses that should take part in the trial, and after
dinner and a pleasant chat, about eleven o'clock
retired to rest. The next morning at four o'clock,
the boys — I usually had them and not jockeys in
trials — were weighed and sent with the four horses
on the Downs, there to await our arrival. AVe were
somewhat delayed by the fog that had suddenly
made its unpleasant appearance. This, after the first
canter, became so dense that we could scarcely dis-
tinguish one horse from the other. Had it not been
for Mr. Merry's anxiety to leave for town, the trial
would have been postponed, and the horses sent

20

306 'LORD OF THE ISLES.'

home ; for fogs are dangerous things for horses to be
kept long in at exercise. The most extraordinary
scene now took place that I ever remember to have
witnessed. The fog rolled lazily up the east side of
the hill in dense clouds, resting on the top and
western decline. A sudden atmospheric disturbance
took place, the wind suddenly veering from east to
west, causing the mist to disappear from the upper
ground, but leaving the sides as densely clouded as
ever. Taking; advantage of the brief moment thus
given, we had a most satisfactory trial, Lord of the
Isles winning. A few minutes afterwards the fog
from both sides had mingled, all was obscurity again,
the horses reaching their stables with difficulty.

As this was one amongst many notable trials, I
give the particulars as follows :

Lord of the Lies, 3 yrs., 8 st, 7 lb 1

Noisy, 3 yrs., 8 st. 7 lb. . . . . . .2

Nabob, 6 yrs., 9 st. 2 lb 3

Harry the Great (brother to Little Harry), 3 yrs., 9 st. 4

Won by a length, the same between the second and
third, and four lengths between the third and fourth.
I have no doubt if it had been half a mile farther,
Noisy would have won, as he staved so well. But
knowing Mr. Merry had backed Lord of the Isles for
a great stake for the Derby, we — that is Mr. Parker
and myself — told him our horse should not run in it.
As Noisy went a roarer after Chester, and could not
beat anything afterwards, it was of little consequence.

THE TWO THOUSAND. 307

Yet our intention of serving him was the same.
Why we should put Harry the Great in 7 lb. above
Lord of the Isles will seem strange, unless I explain
that he was tlwught to be a good horse, and we
wanted him beaten that the boys might see it ; and
this was the best way of managing it. The running
of Nabob deserves notice in relation to the subsequent
performance of Kingstown. How he could have given
Kingstown '2\ st. in the Trial Stakes at Salisbury and
a 5 lb. beating, and then the latter within a few
weeks run within three lengths of Lord of the Isles at
Newmarket for the Two Thousand, and beat him in
the Derby, is what I could never understand — unless
he, Kingstown, was not half prepared in the first
instance.

So much for the trial. Now for the race itself —
the Two Thousand — which was one of the most inte-
resting on record on account of the wagering upon it,
which far exceeded anything I remember to have
heard of either before or since. Three powerful
stables were engaged in it, and all sanguine of
success, and noted for the staunchness of their
followers. Mr. Merry, the owner of Lord of the Isles,
in my hands, was a heavy bettor, who when sanguine
stood a very large stake. His opponents, Messrs.
Padwick and Hill, who had not at that time become
confederates, the owners respectively of the two other
favourites, " St. Hubert and Kingstown, also betted
largely, though not to the same extent. My father

20—2

3oS 'LORD OF THE ISLES:

had Scythian, Little Harry, and many of the best
horses in the world for the purpose, with which to
try St. Hubert ; and with all his care and ability in
trying, was thought not likely to make a mistake.
My brother John, too, was credited with talent
sufficient to ensure his bein^ able to ffauge the merits
of Kingstown to the greatest nicety ; whilst I had
many who believed in what I did, and my stable was
to some extent considered powerful. My father ex-
pressed his opinion a few days before the race in
these words : ' William,' he said, ' I shall win, and
you will be second.' My brother feared mine. I
feared neither, because I believed in one good horse,
and knew that others were difficult to find. Kings-
town, it is true, ran well, showing an improvement of
about two stone on his form at Salisbury, which,
however, could not be considered formidable.

The race itself has been described and redescribed
at the time and afterwards by so many able pens,
that I shall venture but a slight description of it.
After the candidates for high honours had entered the
saddling-ring, they were scrutinized with eager eyes
by friends and foes, and pronounced well or unfit, as
reason or fancy dictated. Save of the three cracks,
little was said of condition. Certainly, Kingstown,
when he walked round the ring divested of his
clothing, looked well ; and being on the big side, as
my brother's usually were, was deservedly much
admired. St. Hubert looked as if nothing on earth

AFTER THE RACE.

3°9

could improve his condition, though some might, and
I have no doubt did, think he looked a little light :
and the same opinion was held against mine. But the
result justified the means adopted, and after a severe
pace all the way to the bushes, where the field was
tailed off, Lord of the Isles lying half a length
behind St. Hubert, and a neck behind Kingstown,
they raced in this order down the hill and across the
Abingdon mile bottom to the rise at the finish, when
Lord of the Isles gradually crept up and won a most
exciting race by a neck, three lengths between second
and third.

Mr. Hill's face, not at any time having the mbst
pleasing expression, now looked unutterable things.
He stood pale and motionless, musing over the event.
Probably his appearance on this occasion gave rise to
his subsequently being alluded to in the sporting
papers, as ' Mr. Henry Unwell.' Mr. Padwick, on
the other hand, bore his defeat with equanimity. He
had a good horse, well ridden, but unfortunately it
met a better. He consoled himself, doubtless, with
the thought of the high pressure that would be put
on visitors for accommodation at Hill Street on the
Monday following, in order to recoup himself his
losses; pocketing the disappointment and allowing
the whole business to be buried in oblivion, as a true
philosopher should do. Mr. Merry viewed the
exciting scene, though secretly in rapture at the
victory, with a dignified air worthy of himself. It

'LORD OF THE ISLES:

was certainly a race to be remembered : three good
horses running for a large and very popular stake,
well and truly ridden by jockeys of the greatest
eminence in their most admirable style. Mr. Dixon
(alias ' Druid '), 'On Condition,' says : ' William Day
is popularly supposed to adopt the severe system ' (of
training) ; ' but be this as it may, we do not think
that we ever saw a horse brought to the post in more
perfect form than Lord of the Isles was for the Two
Thousand.'

So much for the race between ' the Saint and the
Lord.' With the former we have done; but as the
latter failed to fulfil expectations in not winning the
Derby, the circumstances surrounding the latter race
may well be reviewed, if it be only to throw a little
light on a matter Avhich to most people is still an un-
solved problem. One of the things that ' no fellow
can understand,' is the inducement which led Mr.
Hill to keep backing Kingstown for this event,
against a horse that had just beaten him. To one
friend of that worthy who ventured to ask him the
question, he replied that ' the strong in battle was
not always victorious, nor the swift in the race ;' a
quotation, if properly cited, worthy of a better appli-
cation. It had, however, its own significant mean-
ing, not difficult to guess. There is one gentleman,.
I think, still living, who could, if he chose, give an
account of the whole thing that would at once
satisfy the most sceptical, that Lord of the Isles was

THE DERBY MYSTERY.

prevented winning- the Derby by some controllable
circumstance, of which, probably, no one but himself
knows anything. The popular theory was, that the
horse was not trained — certainly a new phase in my
system of training* ! This report was set on foot by
the jockey Aldcroft, who, however, was at the time
looked upon as himself not altogether free from sus-
picion— a fact that might account for his starting any
theory that would relieve him of the odium, and put
it on the shoulders of another. Mr. Merry, indeed,
told me that Aldcroft had assured him that the horse
had not been trained, and that he could not be any-
thing like the horse he was on the Two Thousand
day.

As Aldcroft did not see the horse between the two
events before the morning of the race, he must have
drawn largely on his imaginative powers to reach
such a decisive, conclusion. Yet he was believed
before the trainer, as jockeys are in the present day.
What the horse did, and how he was treated in the
interval between the two races, I may therefore briefly
relate, as it is information never given till now. After
his return from Newmarket, nothing interfered with
his usual work till ten days before the time, when he
coughed. The fact was immediately conveyed to Mr.
Merry by myself. He ate well, and in other respects
seemed in perfect health; and being fit so lately, he
wTas eased in his work for three days, not being abso-
lutely idle, but taking cantering exercise, and then

3i2 'LORD OF THE ISLES.'

resumed active work. Mr. Merry was daily receiving
my reports of the state of his health, and what he was
doing. I considered, after his preparation for the
Two Thousand and his race in it, a few days' ease
would not hurt him, but, on the contrary, it may
have done him some good. As for the possible
advantages of rest, I may point out that Dangerous,
some days before the Derby, hurt his leg in his trial,
and did not from that day until the day before the
race have faster exercise than trotting, and on that
day was only cantered twice. Yet he won. Pretty
much the same may be said of Amato and Phosphorus,
both Derby-winners, and both lame at the time. I
should add, that as a precautionary measure, I advised
Mr. Merry to hedge his money ; for though I have
known many horses to cough without detriment to
their running powers, yet no one can tell to what extent
a cough may prove injurious to their bodily health. I
believe that he followed my advice; and I know that
after this disappointment, Aldcroft was never much
in his favour as a jockey. And this I believe to be a
full, true, and particular account of Lord of the Isles
performances in the two great three-year-old races
against St. Hubert and Kingstown. Shortly after the
former left me, with the rest of Mr. Merry's horses.

CHAPTER XIX.

A TRIAL E0R MR. MERRY.

I try Hobble Noble for the Cambridgeshire — Difference of opinion
as to weights — Eesult — Why he beat Joe MiUer — Treatment
before the race — How it was lost — Another trial ; Weathergage
for the Cesarewitch — A difference of opinion as to distance —
Something about Mr. Merry and his satellites — His success at
cocking — An old cockpit — Kegret on his leaving the turf —
Buchanan and ' Tass ' Parker — Characteristics and associations
— Buchanan's betting — Loses himself in a lawsuit against his
employer — Different ending of the two men — A doubtful gift
— ' Betting on a certainty ;' but the biter bit.

I mentioned in the last chapter that at one time I
was able to be of some service to Mr. Merry. I have
had to do with this good sportsman in his direct con-
nection with my stable in the case of Lord of the Isles;
and I may now perhaps not unfittingly describe this
trial of another of his horses, and the result of the
race that followed it. Joe Miller had followed up his
success in beating forty-two horses in the Chester
Cup by winning the Emperor's Vase (Ascot Cup),
beating in it Hobbie Noble — for which Mr. Merry had
given as a two-year-old, the previous year, the large
sum of £6,000 to the then Lord John Scott — besides

3 M A TRIAL FOR MR. MERRY.

Voltigeur, and most of the best horses of the day.
Meeting M r. Merry at Newmarket, he asked me if I
would try Robbie Noble for the Cambridgeshire ; to
which, of course, I readily assented.

' I will,' he said, ' send Saunders and Mr. Buchanan
to your place witli the horse, and I wish you to try
him as you would try one of your own that you
thought good enough to win such a race ; and,' he
added, ' I have Mr. Parker's authority for saying you
can take Joe Miller, or any other horse of his for the
purpose.'

About ten days before the race, Mr. Saunders, his
trainer, with Mr. Buchanan, arrived at Woodyates
with the horse in readiness to be tried the next
morning. In the evening the subject naturally
occupying our attention was the weights that Ilobbie
Noble and the other horses taking part in the trial
should carry. On this point Mr. Saunders's notions
and my own were totally different. He thought that
the two, Ilobbie Noble and Joe Miller, should be tried
at a difference of 10 lb. only. I argued that the
difference should be 21 lb., Bobbie Noble, of course,
giving it, to enable him to win ; and this notwith-
standing that Joe Miller had beaten him at even
weights a few months before at Ascot. I declined
altogether to stake my personal reputation on surmise.
And I think, as many will think with me, that had
Ilobbie Noble won a trial at 10 lb., he probably could
have done so, giving 10 or 20 lb. more. Mr. Saunders,

TRIAL OF 'HOBBIE NOBLE.' 315

however, was an older man than myself, and his
opinion entitled to, as it received, respect. Ulti-
mately at the suggestion of Mr. Buchanan, who
reminded him that I was ' to try the horse as I liked,'
an agreement was reached, the difference in weight
being fixed at 17 lb., a mile and a distance, and in
the result Hobble Noble won cleverly ; Joe Miller
second, and the others beaten off. It does, of course,
seem strange that Joe Miller, his quondam victor at
even weights two and a half miles, should be beaten
with an allowance of 17 lb. at a mile. The explana-
tion is that the one horse could, and the other could
not, stay over a longer distance than a mile. More-
over, Joe Miller may not have been quite at his best
at the fag-end of a long season, after running in so
many long races, including the Derby. Besides, his
quite recent trial with Weaihergage was an additional
reason for my wishing to try at 21 lb.

As for the race itself, I should say that Mr.
Saunders stayed at my place the whole of the week
preceding it, and to my knowledge, after the trial,
the horse had but a few canters ; work he may have
called it, but not in my opinion sufficient to enable
so gross a horse, with such a weight on his back,
successfully to compete with others properly trained.
He failed partly from this cause, and partly from the
execrable riding of poor little Petitt — with the best
intentions. He had not, if I remember rightly,
ridden for years before, and then but seldom (for

316 A TRIAL FOR MR. MERRY.

the Duke of Bedford). And on this occasion he
entirely lost his head and rode his horse to a stand-
still. There are plenty of men living who remember
the circumstances connected with the race ; how it
rained incessantly for days before, which made the
ground very heavy going ; the distance the horse
led everything till near the winning-post, when
he was beat by the Knight of the Shire carrying
6 st. 2 lb., stopping from sheer exhaustion, and
blowing like a porpoise on his return to the scales.
Yet in common fairness to Mr. Saunders, it should
be stated, even as he was, the horse would have won
in the hands of any competent jockey ; and probably
would have won with poor Petitt up, had the ground
been in a state fit for racing, and not the mud-pond
to which it had been converted by the late deluge.
Therefore I would not too severely criticize the
method of his training, or rather, in my humble
opinion, the lack of it. Such is a fair account of
Bobbie Nobles trial, and the disappointment which
followed it in the race itself. The simple fact is that
the horse could not stay over a mile. At and
about that distance, he won a few races ; but, like
a good many others, was never so good after he
was a three-year-old, as he was at or before that
age.

Perhaps, naturally, the mention of this one trial
brings to mind another in which a difference of
opinion occurred. Joe Miller was sent to Mr. Parr's

TRIAL OF ' WEATHERGAGE: 317

place, Benhams, in order to try Weathergage for the
Cesarewitch. In this case the difficulty was not
as to the weights, but as to the distance at which the
trial was to be made. Mr. Parr wanted to try the
two a mile and three-quarters, for a race that had
to he run two miles and a quarter. With such
practice I was totally at variance; and as Mr. Parker,
the owner of Joe Miller, who was present, sided with
me, Mr. Parr had to give way. "We tried them
at even weights the whole course, and Weathergage
won as easily as he did the race itself. Mr. Parr
assured me repeatedly before the trial that the
farther his horse went, the better he was. To which
I naturally replied, ' If so, let us see it ;' and the
event, I must say, bore out his statement in a most
conclusive way. Why he should have objected
to try the longer course was a thing I could neither
divine then, nor since. One must be the right
way, and any other the wrong way, of doing any-
thing ; and what reason could be given for adopting
the wrong and discarding the right, is beyond
the ken of my discerning powers. Yet in trials
this is too often done, with disastrous results.

1 do not know that I have anything else worthy
of special record in regard to my own dealings with
Mr. Merry's horses. But of that gentleman himself
I may perhaps say a few words, and also jot down
my recollections of the peculiarities of some rather
eccentric personages in his employment. To the

3i S A TRIAL FOR MR. MERRY.

present generation Mr. Merry was known only as a
racing-man ; but much of his early life was passed
in two pursuits of diverse character, viz., in the
lucrative business of an iron-master, and the not
unremunerative recreation of cock-fighting. I am
told by one likely to know, and therefore am ready
to believe, that at one time he possessed more game
fowls than any other person in the world ; keeping
thousands of game-cocks at a time, entirely for the
purpose of matching them, and seldom had a less
number. It was his singular fancy to breed all the
birds the same colour — black-breasted reds. In his
business, which he carried on with Mr. Cunningham
as his partner, he accumulated an immense fortune ;
but big as it was, it was increased, I believe, in no
despicable manner by his luck or good management
at cocking. Many of the battles he fought were
for 50 guineas aside, and 500 guineas the main ; and
not a few were fought for much heavier stakes. On
this sport, in those days, as on racing to-day, large
sums were lost and won, and from all I hear Mr.
Merry's balance was usually on the right side.

Without professing to know much of cocking, I
may say I have, when a boy, both kept game-cocks
and fought them. The great art consisted in
feeding and heeling them — that is, putting on artificial
spurs — a task always beyond the compass of my
ability. I never heard whether Mr. Merry fought
his birds in silver or steel spurs ; but the latter were

PERSONAL REMINISCENCES. 319

generally considered preferable, and lie would most
likely use them. I remember very well seeing
a main of cocks fought at Aintree, and still retain a
lively recollection of losing my money over the same.
The pit was situated at the entrance of the Liverpool
racecourse, and built by the then Lord Derby (the
present nobleman's grandfather), where he fought his
•own birds until the sport and bull-baiting were
prohibited by law. It is now converted into a church
or chapel. Of Mr. Merry, personally, I may say
that I have had for many years the privilege of
chatting over times past and present with him,
discussing the merits of public horses belonging not
only to himself, but to others. On my telling him,
at Ascot, how greatly all classes of racing-men
regretted his leaving the turf, he entered very
readily iDto the matter, and told me the whole reason
of his taking the step, which was deplorable in the
extreme as depriving him of his chief if not only
pleasure, and the turf of a staunch friend.

Amongst those Mr. Merry employed, two notable
persons, dissimilar in character yet useful to him in
their way, Avere Norman Buchanan and ' Tass '
(Hazard) Parker, and the two were always in great
request before a trial, and at all race-meetin"-s.
Buchanan was Mr. Merry's friend and representative
in all racing matters. He may have been a descendant
of George Buchanan, the regent and historian of his
own country, who alone, amongst writers, has accused

32o A TRIAL FOR MR. MERRY.

Queen Mary of a criminal love for Rizzio. At all
events, he had a fondness for accusing other people
without the shadow of a suspicion, that might well
indicate such a descent. He was a wine and spirit
merchant at Glasgow, a position he entirely owed to
his friend Mr. Merry, who supplied him with the
needful for stocking his well-stored cellars. He was
fond of racing, but followed Mr. Merry's fortune*
more for the sake of benefiting himself than for real
love of either the sport or his friend. He accompanied
Mr, Merry to all the principal meetings in the South
where he ran horses; and often, in his absence, took
the management of them altogether. He instructed
his commissioners what horses to back, and for what
races, and the amount he wished to have put on for
Mr. Merry as well as for himself. He also gave direc-
tions to the trainer as to which races he wished the
horses to run in, and, moreover, told the jockeys how
they were to be ridden. Tass Parker, who was another,
and deservedly, of Mr. Merry's especial favourites",
was usually sent on a day or two before to secure
rooms at an hotel, or to take a house for the race-
week; and to have dinner or whatever was wanted
comfortably ready for the others on their arrival. But
Tass had more taste for the horses, and was more at
home with them. He was generally to be found in
the stable with the trainer, to the great discomfiture
of the ' touts ;' for he always mercilessly thrashed
them when caught spying on the horses at Russley

MR. MERRY'S AGENTS. 321

or anywhere else. Still he would often be with Mr.
Merry and Buchanan on the racecourse, and spend
the evening with them at their lodging's — evenings
which I am told were often extremely lively, especially
when the female element was present to assist the
festivities. It is to him that I am indebted for much
that I have said as to his patron's doings in the
cockpit.

Of these two satellites of Mr. Merry, Buchanan
was the less worthy of the confidence he enjoyed.
I understand that, for one thing, he often betted more
than he was prepared to pay ; and at the end of the
week had to anticipate his expectations, or borrow of
his friend, to prevent the gentlemen of the ring making
unpleasant remarks in their primitive language, as
most assuredly they would have done, if every-
thing had not been attended to at the Corner with
business-like promptitude. An amalgamation of his
own with Mr. Merry's accounts often assisted him
after a bad week ; the difference, whatever it may
have been, being left as a rule to be settled with his
friend after. But complication of accounts soon led
to disputes, and the intimate friendship, extending
over many years, ended in a quarrel over money-
matters; and finally in a lawsuit, in which Buchanan
claimed money which he alleged he had paid on Mr.
Merry's behalf, and also payment for services done
and performed at his request.

I cannot help thinking that the difficulty had its

21

322 A TRIAL FOR MR. MERRY.

origin in the discovery by Mr. Merry of many things
of which he could not approve ; and that Buchanan's
pretensions were entirely wrong. For, whatever
Mr. Merry may not have done, or have done wrong-
fully— to my mind one thing is perfectly certain; and
that is, that lie always supplied Buchanan, before-
hand, with sufficient funds for any and every purpose
for which money might be needed. How could it
be otherwise ? As is well known, all the accounts
were paid on the nail, as it is termed; and it is equally
■certain that Buchanan had no money of his own
wherewith to settle them, even if he had the wish. I
was subpoenaed on the trial for the defence, and
attended at Westminster for several days ; but when
it came on for hearing it was settled out of court
by Buchanan taking a part of his claim, and the
threatened exposure averted. As for ' the exposure '
— it stands to reason that, in the close connection of
the two on the turf, there may have arisen matters,
however straight the conduct of the one of them who
had a high character to maintain had been, the dis-
cussion of which, under the leading of a hostile
counsel, might have created discomfort. And it was
probably in this belief, rather than that any claim
whatever existed, that the attempt to get the money
was made. But Buchanan profited little by it ; for
my opinion was that held by many others, and he
never got over the disgrace.

It is difficult to understand how Mr. Merrv ever

NORMAN BUCHANAN. 323

brooked Buchanan's company ; for he was not in
manners or education a fit associate for him, unless,
indeed, he used him to do what was unavoidable in
the shape of dirty work, and so gave him the fancied
power, which he used to his own destruction.
Buchanan was irritable ; whilst disputes without
judgment, and zeal without discretion, led him into
many difficulties. He retired from the racecourse to
his home near Glasgow, where he suffered much from
illness ; though, strange to say, he lived to see his
death twice recorded in the papers before it actually
took place. Poor ' Tass ' Parker, on the other hand,
lived respected and in ease to a good old age, and
died lamented by all who knew him. Pie had, in his
time, many battles to fight besides those on the turf.
In the P.R. he was well known to be staunch as he
was scientific; and though once accused ; of showing
the white feather,' that the charge was unfounded I
mn quite certain, the actual fact being that he was
over-matched at all points b}^ a heavier opponent.

Before concluding my notice of Mr. Buchanan I
may relate a little incident that occurred between
him and myself. After he had Avon a good stake on
one of Mr. Merry's horses that I was training-, he,
in gratitude I suppose, gave me a small cask of
whisky. He did not send a receipted account with
it until I asked him to do so. Shortly afterwards, for
it was towards the close of his career, he was forced,
unfortunately, to suspend payment, as the commercial

L'l— 2

324 A TRIAL FOR MR. MERRY.

world phrases it, and the official receiver wrote to me
demanding payment for the whisky. I replied that
it was not my usual custom to pay for things for
which I held the receipt, and that I saw no reason to
depart from the rule on this occasion. With all his
faults, I do not for a moment believe that Norman
intended that [ should pay for the whisky ; but that
he had simply neglected to strike it off his books.
Nevertheless, I should have been liable if I had not
taken the precaution to ask for a receipt. The need
to have a receipt and to keep it has been impressed
upon me again and again by my experience in
transactions covering many years.

Lastly, I may give an illustration which will better
describe the man than anything I can say. Card-
playing is not the only amusement by which one may
win or lose money in railway travelling, either with
friends or strangers. Once, whilst travelling" to
Doncaster races, Buchanan hit upon an ingenious
scheme for adding to his revenues. Soon after leaving
King's Cross Station, he carefully counted the number
of the several cords or fringe forming the tassel at the
end of the sash by which the carriage window was
drawn up ; and, on arriving at the first stoppage, he
left the carriage for refreshments. A gentleman who
had been watching his movements, and suspected his
intentions, in his absence did the same, and, like him,
left for the refreshment-rooms. They returned to-
gether to their respective seats. Norman soon began

THE BITER BIT. 325

dandling the tassel in a careless sort of way, and
casually said to the gentleman who sat opposite to
him :

' How many ends are there on this tassel ?'

To which his friend replied :

' Perhaps there are sixty.'

' Well,' said Norman, ' I give the correct number
nearer than anyone else for a pony.'

' I am a pretty good guesser generally,' quoth the
other, ■ and I don't mind; I will lay it you, and I will
tell nearer than you, if you will give the number
first.'

The bet was made. Norman said he should think
there were ' forty-nine,' fearing to give the exact
number, lest it should have been looked upon as
suspicious. The other said he would make it even
numbers, and say ' fifty,' and, of course, won. At
this Buchanan was furious. He appealed to his
friends to know if he were called upon to pay, alleging
that his opponent had been betting on a certainty, as
he could not have guessed the exact number without
knowing it. But it was a clear case of diamond cut
diamond, or ' the biter bit,' and they were all against
him. He had to pay, got well laughed at for his
pains, and sought refuge in his ulster and somno-
lency.

CHAPTER XX.

THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

Eccentricity of manner — Chorister's St. Leger ; a reminiscence of
'the old Dnke' — The late Duke— Better known as Lord William
Powlett — Shrewdness in a bargain — Bad luck in racing —
Some of my ' deals ' with him — I sell him Cedric — A long-
bargain, but a huge relief — Points left open, and their settle-
ment— Sale to him of Promised Land, and purchase of Dulcibrtla
— An intricate negotiation ; satisfactorily brought off — In-
surance money — Sam Eogers on the transaction — Absurd
charge of collusion — How Sam made a mistake — I claim and
keep Romulus — His chances spoiled — A young man's gratitude.

It may be remembered that in the account given of
' The Danebury Confederacy ' a description was intro-
duced of the scene at the betting-rooms at Doncaster
in Margrave's year (1832), for which I was indebted
to the graphic pen of ' Sylvanus.' Chief amongst the
characters then present was the old Duke of Cleveland,
who was credited with partly pulling the wires on the
occasion when Richardson and the Bonds were
' tabled.' We are told that ' his white sardonic coun-
tenance ' added much to ' a picture worthy the pencil
of Rembrandt.' The old Duke was undoubtedly a

A REMINISCENCE OF THE OLD DUKE. 327

power on the racecourse in his day. The authority
from which I have quoted says of him :

' The most astute customer in the Red Book to
deal with of late years on the turf was, out-and-out,
the late Duke of Cleveland. He had, as they say in
Yorkshire, " money for ever," and so did nearly as
he pleased on the turf.'

This command of unlimited means apparently led
his grace to become one of the earliest magnates of the
sport to pay big prices for racehorses. It is said, as a
matter of considerable interest, that he had given as
much as £3,675 for two horses, Trustee and Liverpool ;
and the same authority tells us that, at a subsequent
period, he had paid for four racehorses — Swiss, Swab,
Barefoot, and Memnon — the large sum of £12,000,
which, though dwarfed by comparison with the prices
paid in recent years, was, I need hardly say, an enor-
mous sum in those days. His grace had an extensive
stable, and amongst his notable horses, other than
those above enumerated, were Pavilion, with which
in 1806 he made the great match at Newmarket
against Saneho, the property of the celebrated Colonel
Mellish ; Emancipation, by Whisker; Muley Moloch;
and last, but not least, Chorister, the winner of the
St. Leger in 1831.

My own knowledge of ' the old Duke's ' proceedings
on the turf is confined to a little incident in connection
with the last-named event — the victory of Chorister in

328 THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

the St. Leger. My father rode for him on the
occasion, and it is not unlikely that the success was
in a measure due to his jockeyship. At all events,
not only was the noble owner highly pleased at the
result, but the Duchess also showed her appreciation
of my father's services in a very charming way. I can
just remember her as a tall, handsome lady, whose
appearance is impressed on my memory by the re-
markable simplicity of her dress. That she took
more than an ordinary interest in the race was shown
by her action in presenting my second brother with a
memento of it in the shape of a handsome gold watch
with chain and seal complete. This delicate method
of showing her goodwill was duly recognised at the
time, and long after remembered in our little circle.

My reminiscences, however, have to do, not with
the old, but with the late Duke of Cleveland, who
for many years raced as Lord William Powlett,
by which name he was much better known on the
turf. He deserves more than a passing notice in
regard to his ill-luck, and also in respect to some
personal dealings which I had with him. His
grace, or his lordship, as it would seem more con-
venient for my present purpose to call him, was
one of the notable personages at Newmarket. He
was well known to its inhabitants and frequenters of
all classes, high and low, both for his peculiarities of
appearance and supposed eccentricities. These peculi-

LORD WILLIAM AT NEWMARKET. 329

arities were probably exaggerated in public estima-
tion by a nervous habit which he had acquired of
twitching his face when in conversation. I have
heard, at different times, many amusing stories told
of his eccentricities, which probably had as much
basis of truth as is generally to be found in similar
fabulous accounts of the sayings and doings of those
who occupy a conspicuous rank amongst their fellow-
mortals.

It is not, at all events, any part of my design to
deal with his lordship's social characteristics, beyond
what I may be able to portray in recounting the
circumstances of my own intercourse with him,
which was naturally of a purely business character.
But whilst it would be presumption on my part
to attempt to do more, I may say that I had special
opportunities of forming an opinion of his lordship's
method of dealing in the exchange and purchase of
racehorses, as I had important transactions in this
way with him. He was reputed to have been lavish
in the matter of private expenditure, and doubly
keen in all business connected with his stable. My
experience did not in any way go to show that in the
fifteen years or so during which Lord William had
raced before I was privileged to know him, he may
not have displayed all that shrewdness with which
he was credited in the matter of bargaining, his know-
ledge of what he was about putting those who dealt

33o THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

with him at a disadvantage. A simple recital of the
particulars of the transactions I had with him will
best show whether or not I came the worse off of
the two in these dealings, which, so far as his lord-
ship was concerned, were always carried out with
scrupulous exactitude.

But first I may observe that whatever may have
been Lord William's tendency to free expenditure on
bis personal pleasures, he was not, so far as I am
aware, given to extravagance of any kind in connection
with his stables, although he was not, as will be seen,
unwilling to pay a fair price for a good horse. To
his jockeys, at all events, he paid only the regulation
fee. In so doing he may have acted with the laud-
able desire of giving offence to no one ; feeling that
if he did otherwise, he would of a certainty offend
many without satisfying the recipients of his bounty ;
like Louis XIV., in fact, who in restricting his
liberality defended the action by saying, ' When I
give away a place, I make a hundred discontented and
one ungrateful.' Nevertheless, in the matter of gifts,
we may, as I have had reason to show more than
once, have worse examples set our aristocracy in the
treatment of their jockeys than those handed down to
us by the noble lord.

The very fact, as shown in this case, of his
care not to open his purse-strings too wide in
the rewards given to those who rode for him,

SHREWDNESS IN A BARGAIN. 331

is a proof that he possessed that certain intuitive
good sense which looks after pounds, shillings, and
pence ; and the possession of this he again showed in
the bargains he made in the horse-dealing line, in
which, as a rule, he could make a few pounds go as
far as most people could. He commenced racing as
far back as the year 1843, in which he had a couple
of horses, Nelly and Mallard. Old Mr. Joseph
Rogers trained for him at Newmarket, and Sam, his
son, rode his horses, and after the death of his father
trained them till he died. Lord William seldom
kept more than half a dozen horses in training at
the same time, and often not so many, though he
may have exceeded the number at times. He was
singularly unlucky ; for though he would give any
price for a horse, he never had one that did him any
good except Tim Whiffler, which he bought of
Jackson for £2,500, and won with him the Good-
wood and Doncaster Cups, and other races.

My first introduction to him was at Bath in 1857 ;
and as this was in relation to one of the two or three
deals I had with his lordship, in which perhaps he
did not come off with quite his usual good fortune, I.
may relate the circumstances. I had then in un-
stable Cedric, bought by Mr. Parker at Tattersalls' for
50 guineas, when Lord Anglesey gave up racing.
He was a clever horse, but a bad one. However,
as a three-year-old he won the Somersetshire Stakes,

332 THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

two miles and a distance, beating Poles tar very easily
by ten lengths, seven others tailed off. Polestar, I
should add, ran second to Vengeance in the Cesare-
witch in 1856, and at one time was the property of
the unfortunate Mr. Cook ; whilst Vengeance belonged
to his partner, the man who poisoned him — the
notorious Palmer of Shrewsbury, who was hung for
the crime. Now Lord William liked a horse that
could stay, and seeing Cedric win two miles, was
anxious to have him for his own, and asked the
price. This I said was £1,500. He replied that it
was too much, and declined him. However, I after-
wards persuaded his lordship to come down and look
at him in the stable in the evening, which he did ;
and after examining his legs with great ability and
minuteness, he said he thought the near one was a
little tilled, which he attributed to the race more than
to anything else, and thought ' a little rest would set
him right.' I was thankful for this expression of
opinion, for it saved me offering one of my own on a
very delicate subject. However, his lordship again
declined to purchase on account of the price, which
he said was too much. I had my own reasons for
not wishing to let slip my customer, so, after a bit, I
said :

' Well, your lordship, even at the risk of displeas-
ing Mr. Parker, I will, to oblige you, lower it, and
take a little less.'

/ SELL HIM 'CEDRIC 333

This I carried out pretty much after the fashion of
the Cheap- Jacks, coming down first from £1,500 to
£1,400; then from £1,400 to £1,300; and lastly,
from £1,300 to £1,200; but all to no effect. His
lordship refused each offer in succession ; and I felt
that I had exhausted nry knowledge of persuasive
arguments to exhibit Cedric in his most flattering;
form. I had, in fact, to give in, fairly confessing
myself unequal to the task of convincing him of the
intrinsic worth of so valuable an animal. And it
was plainly evident, too, that his lordship had as
much faith in his own knowledge of the horse's
running; as in anvthim>- that emanated from me
respecting him — which was also a little relief to my
mind.

Having so singularly failed in my advances, I had
to reverse my tactics and make a waiting race of it,
which, as it turned out, succeeded admirably. After
a little while, I said :

' What offer, my lord, can I tell Mr. Parker you
will make?'

' If I don't have the horse at all,' was his answer,
delivered with some warmth and apparent determina-
tion, ' I will never give more than £1,100 for him.'

And to these degenerate terms, strange to say, I
submitted, and Cedric became his lordship's horse, and
was sent next morning to his trainer, Sam Rogers,
at Newmarket ; which destination, I was glad to hear
on the return of the boy, he safely reached in good

334 THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

health ; for it took a burden off my shoulders, as the
man said who lost his head in a gale of wind — if the
remark has not also been made, in an anticipatory
sense, by some one else before decapitation.

In the completion of the sale, two little matters
had been overlooked, which were afterwards left to
Messrs. Weatherby to settle. The one was the
question of engagements, of which the horse had
several. One of them, at York, Avas, to look at, a
good one ; and this one his lordship, with his usual
acumen and foresight, wanted, but not the others.
As I was acting for Mr. Parker, I Avould not give
my assent, but agreed that he could have all or none,
and he took them. The other little difficulty was
only a matter of £55, nothing in comparison to the
first, and came about in this way. His lordship
said he did not know whether it was pounds or
guineas he had given. I replied that candour com-
pelled me to say guineas were not mentioned ; but as
horses were always sold for guineas at auction, and
Sir Tatton Sykes would not sell his horses except for
guineas, I thought his lordship would, looking at it
in this light, consider the sale had been made for
guineas. This he generously thought a fair way of
putting it, and gave the extra money, or £1,155 in
all. T got a commission of £50 on the sale from Mr.
Parker ; a fact I mention, as it was the only money I
was ever presented with for selling a horse for any of
my numerous employers. Cedric, I should add, Mas

'PROMISED LAND' SOLD. 335

not the only horse that had been sold ; and, like many
others that are sold, he never won a race afterwards.

In I860, I had another deal with his lordship. I
disposed of my string at Bath races, having more
horses than I wanted ; and wishing- to sell many
of them, put small reserves on most of the lot. I
may mention that amongst those that went for his
moderate reserve figure of 100 guineas, was one of
the yearlings I bred, the colt by Flatcatcher out of
Rather High. He was bought by Sir William Cod-
rington, was returned to my stables, and was after-
wards called ' Catch 'em Alive.1

This by the way. To go on with my story. I had
put a reserve of 3,000 guineas on Promised Land, and
1,500 guineas on Tradueer. Lord William had pur-
chased the latter at his reserve, and had bid £2,500 for
Promised Land, as Messrs. Tattersall told me after the
sale. The next day I saw his lordship, and said :

' I should like you to have the .Land; he stays well,
and is just the horse that would suit your lordship.'

His excuse was, that he had not got the money to
spare. This difficulty was met and overcome by my
saying I would trust him. But this would not induce
him to purchase ; lor he afterwards said he had too
many horses, and if I would take back Traducer, he
would have the Land at the price. To this I could
not agree, having only a half-share in the animal;
and for the time the matter ended, the horse returning
to Woodyates with the rest that remained unsold.

336 THE DUKE OE CLEVELAND.

I was still very anxious to dispose of Promised
Land, because, to be candid, I did not think lie
would do me any good if I kept him. I thought the
best three-year-olds would beat him in weight-for-
age races, and that in handicaps he would have no
chance. On the Monday following I decided to go
up to town and see his lordship. I called in Curzon
Street, but he had gone to Tattersalls', where I very
soon found him. I should say that on my way up,
in looking through the Book Calendar for races past,
I found his lordship had some five horses in training ;
only one of them being named. This was Dulcibella7
a mare I had never seen. Her performances were
Avretched, both in that and the previous year ; but I
knew his lordship's love of ' a deal,' and thought she
might be worth £100 at the stud, if onlv for her breed-
ing. So I said to his lordship when we met :

' If, my lord, you would like to have Promised
Land, you can ; and I will take anything else you have
in exchange at a fair price.'

' I have DulcibellaJ was his immediate reply; to
which, without waiting to hear her price, I answered:

' She is worth £100 for a brood-mare, and can be
fit for nothing else.'

This was true enough on her public form, as Cajh
Flyaicay, a moderate horse of Lord Derby's, had given
her 17 lb., and I don't know what beating, both
being three-year-olds. He then said he wanted £400
for her; and after fruitless attempts to induce him to

1 DULCIBELLA' BOUGHT. 337

take less, finding him not very eager to make the
purchase and give her in exchange, I closed with him,
selling Promised Land for £2,500 nominally, but
actually for £2,100 and Dulcibella, which his lordship
had priced, as I have said, at £400. But I had also
the contingency that if the horse won either the Ascot
or Goodwood Cups I was to have £500 more; sub-
sequently, by his lordship's request, modified by my
accepting half the sum absolutely, making the actual
price given me for the horse £2,350, with Dulcibella
thrown in as a gift.

I have had enough to do with all sorts and con-
ditions of men to know how forgetful they are in
business matters of this sort, and that, in them, none
are so likely to make a mistake as gentlemen ; often
to the injury and the annoyance of both parties to
the contract, yet without the remotest intention of
causing a dispute, but simply because they pay no
attention to the matter. On this occasion I asked
Lord William to come into Messrs. Tattersall's office,
when a note was made in writing, signed by his
lordship, and witnessed by Mr. TattersalL I felt I
had done the right thing this time, although for the
little ceremony of attestation I had to pay a com-
mission of £125, which I gladly did, knowing it to
be customary, and regarding it as insurance money.
I returned home, took the horse the next day to
Epsom, and delivered him to the trainer, Sam Rogers;
arranged with Messrs. Weatherby to witness a verbal

22

338 THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

agreement as to the mode of payment — by Lord
William's desire. The bargain was completed, and
a cheque for the money received in due course ; and
thus ended, in the sale of Promised Land, one of the
luckiest deals I ever made, if his purchase may not be
considered the more fortunate of the two.

I have given my reasons for selling him; but I
must say here that he was the soundest horse alive,
and showed that he was in form at the time by having
won me three races in succession that spring; and,
as if by way of contrast, after he was sold, he lost the
like number, without adding further to his previous
well-earned fame. But of Promised Land and his
j>erformances I shall have something more to say
later, in connection with the gentleman who was part
owner of the horse, Mr. Robinson. I have here only
related the incidents connected with his sale, and may
now go on to describe what happened in respect to
the mare that I took in part-payment for him.

On my arrival at Epsom, after the horse had been
duly handed over to him, Sam Rogers gave me up
the mare, which, according to Lord William's orders,
would have run in the Oaks had he kept her, a race
she could not have lost had she been fit and started,
according to her running in the autumn. Then the
following little colloquy took place.

' I suppose,' says Sam, addressing me, ' I suppose
"the Land" is lame, or you would not have sold
him.'

AM ACCUSED OF COLLUSION. 339

I assured him over and over a^ain that he was the
soundest horse in the world, but he would not be
convinced. Then, in answer to my inquiries as to
my new purchase, he said:

1 She is a nice little mare, and will win you a handi-
cap if you do not aim at too much with her;' and he
named the Leamington Stakes at Warwick as likely
to suit her; and he added that if she were well he
would like to stand in with me £10 on the race, or in
any other little handicap I thought she might win.

So ended the incident of my purchase of Dulcibella.
I give it in detail, because shortly afterwards it was
said, with such confident impudence as to obtain
implicit belief in some quarters, that Sam Rogers and
myself had devised a plan of cheating Lord William
out of his valuable mare for our own gain ! There is
really no occasion to refute this audacious statement,
because, as I have shown, the purchase was completed
between Lord William and myself before Sam knew a
word that such a thing was even in contemplation.
And to show how unlikely the assumption was I may
say that Sam Rogers was never a friend of mine, nor
was he a man with whom I associated, or ever met
anywhere but on the course, when business occasion-
ally compelled us to meet. Indeed, I doubt if after
the Cesarewitch, and the mare's victory in it, he ever
condescended to speak to me, as he was greatly
enraged because I would not let him stand £50
on her at Ion g odds. He had overnight sent me

99 9

34Q THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

a verbal message to this effect, through his brother-
in-law, Mr. Lawrence. This I could not agree to. I
reminded his ambassador that Sam had only wished
to stand £10 on her in the first instance ; but I
offered to lay him 12 to 1 to any part of the £50 he
liked. This more than generous offer was indig-
nantly refused, and out of sheer spleen Sam went
and laid £600 to £100 against her, declaring, as he
termed it, that he had thus ' got £100 out of her ;'
and he then backed Killigrew, a horse of Avhose
form he knew something, not only from his public
performance, but from having ridden him in trials when
he belonged to the Admiral. Thus in his double
defeat in this race he probably suffered a greater
disappointment than he ever met with in the whole
course of his life — not only in losing his money, and
that no small sum, but in seeing the mare in other
hands run about three stone better than ever she had
done in his. This is the true story of the race and
Sam Rogers' connection with it ; and in wlTat point
the alleged collusion between us could have existed
it will take a very clever one indeed to discover.

I had yet another notable transaction with Lord
William Powlett ; but in this case it was not ' a deal.'
I ran a little horse called Isthmian, in the Houghton
Meeting, after winning the Cambridgeshire, in a
selling race for £350. In the same race Lord
William had a colt by Flying Dutchman out of
Priestess — Duleibcllas dam. My horse was favourite

'ROMULUS1 CLAIMED. 341

at 3 to 1, won easily, and was claimed by Mr.
Craven. I claimed the Priestess colt ; though he
had never been out before, and in this race ran very
badly. But knowing how Duleibella improved from
a two- to a three-year-old, I thought probably the
colt might do the same. Besides, he was a great fine
horse that looked likely to do good another year.
Lord William came to me the next day and asked
me to let him have his horse back again. But I said
I could not, as I had parted with him already to Mr.
Murphy, which was true. Yet I think I could have
found another excuse, if it had been necessary, for
not parting with him. But, as the sexton said, ' One
reason was sufficient,' when asked by a parishioner
why they did not ring the church bells ; and that was
' because they had none ; but if that was not enough,'
he added, ' the parson did not like them.'

Poor Sam Rogers ! As though the loss of Dalci-
bella was not dreadful enough, he must put her half-
brother in a selling race the next meeting. If this
were not akin to insanity, I know not what might be
in such a matter. For I tried the colt, afterwards
called Romulus, and found he had good speed, and
the following year proved he could stay well ; and,
in fact, was a better horse than his sister was a mare.
I have very little doubt, indeed, that he would have
won both the Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire as a
three-year-old, if he had been left in my hands.
But the grateful youth, Mr. Murphy, left me for a

342 THE DUKE OF CLEVELAND.

fresh trainer, and for some cause or other never won
a race with him. The horse never ran in rny hands
at all; but he was in the Lymington Stakes at
5 st. 7 lb., and probably would have been in the two
autumn handicaps at the same weight ; for the
Admiral knew how badly he had run in the Selling
Plate at Newmarket, and that Lord William was an
unlikely person to play tricks with his horses. But
as Mr. Murphy left me in so ungentlemanly and
shabby a manner, I contrived to put a little spoke in
his wheel by telling the Admiral what Romulus
really could do, who accordingly clapped 8 st. 7 lb.
on his back for each race, and of course they did not
accept.

I had very great difficulty in getting a settlement
of my account from this grateful young gentleman,
and when the needful did arrive, it came in several
large packages of post-office- orders, one-pound notes,
and other negotiable documents of a varied descrip-
tion. In this, no doubt, he thought he had his
revenge ; but I was simply delighted, for I had
be2,'un to think that I should have to sue him for the
recovery of the money, or lose it altogether. To
show what I thought of Romulus, I may say that I
got Mr. Parker to buy him for a stallion. But he
was, as many good horses are, a failure at the stud.
He had, however, but few mares, and those not good
ones, which was a greater hindrance to his becoming
fashionable.

CHAPTER XXL

TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS A COMPARISON OF THE OLD

AND THE NEW.

Change inevitable — The new school— Advantage taken of im-
proved educational facilities — Improved social position —
Imitation in amaranthine pleasures of their betters — Travelled
experiences — ' The seahorse ' — Increased duties — Rapid ad-
vance from stable-boy to trainer — ' Success is genius ' — Changed
habits — Greater care of health— Relaxations — Absurdity of
early rising — Advantage of the jockey's control of horses —
Legitimate gains from stable secrets — Trainers properly set
right in trials — Marvellous horsemanship — Carping owners
— Improved habits — The whole secret of training revealed by
a light-weight jockey.

The modern stable — Added cares of the trainer — His needed
absence safe-guarded — The vet. and the head-lad in sickness
■ — Condition balls and others — Flowers supersede the dung-
pit — Improvement in food and drink — Suggested additions
— Clemency of jockeys towards owners — Apology for treating
the subject.

' It has,' says Pope, ' been long, my dear country-
men, the subject of my concern and surprise that
whereas numberless poets, critics, and orators have
compiled and digested the art of ancient poesy, there
has not risen amoug us one person so public- spirited

344 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

as to perform the like for the moderns, although it is
universally known that our in every-way industrious
moderns, both in weight of their writing and in
velocity of their judgment, do infinitely excel the
said ancients.'

This paragraph, if slightly altered, will substantially
corroborate the opinions I have formed, after mature
consideration, of the wisdom of the present generation
in all matters applying to trades, professions, arts
and sciences, and late discoveries of things in general.
But to none does it apply with so much force as to
the present race of trainers and jockeys, more parti-
cularly the latter, in the rapid stride that has been
made towards perfection in the manege, and that part
of it which teaches the art of riding.

' It is an observation,' says Johnson's biographer,
' of the younger Pliny, in his epistle to his friend
Tacitus, that history ought never to magnify matters
of fact, because worthy actions require nothing but
truth.' Such advice is indeed deserving of imitation,
and I must try strictly to follow it. To illustrate
my theory in a plain, practical, and I hope not less
truthful way, my best endeavours shall be used ;
though I feel unequal to do anything like justice to
the many virtues and the great abilities of the trainers
and jockeys of the present day. Nevertheless, I may
add my quota in admiration of a class of well-
deserving, industrious, and honest members of the elite
of society, into which indeed, by their morality and

MODERN EDUCATION. 345

irreproachable conduct, they have been so well re-
ceived, rather than that such deeds of prowess should
sink into oblivion for the want of an honest chronicler
to proclaim them. Doubtless the Education Act has
had on them, as on other classes of society, a bene-
ficial effect — an advantage which our forefathers
never possessed. Too much praise therefore cannot
possibly be given to the politicians whose great
minds conceived such an inestimable measure, and to
whose untiring energy and wonderful ability its
speedy passage through both Houses of Parliament,
and its incorporation as one of the most essential
parts of the English laws, for universally uniting
all classes of the community in one indissoluble
bond of friendship, are due. The elementary part
of it — the three R's — would alone have been suffi-
cient for all practical purposes in the education
of the rising generations of political aspirants
to fame, who have not had the opportunity of
studying Adam Smith's ' Wealth of Nations,' and
to have stamped their name for all time as loving
benefactors of their still more loving and grateful
species. So great is the commendable thirst for
knowledge, that not a single principle taught, or a
syllable used, is by the greatest sages thought redun-
dant ; nor is the expense of obtaining the blessing
considered by the most rigid economist a farthing too
dear. What a happy combination of fortuitous cir-
cumstances for the good of all ! Yet I blush to say

346 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

that there are misanthropes who may and do think
differently. Like the ' dog in the manger ' in the old
fable, they cannot learn themselves, and selfishly
object to the acquirement of knowledge by others.
Coupled with the new Franchise Bill, whose teaching
is decidedly more political than social or domestic,
we have a very perfect system of education for all
classes, the benefits of which I venture to think our
trainers and jockeys will, with their usual fore-
thought and industry, not be slow to embrace, and
thus, by the spirit of emulation, raise themselves to
still greater eminence in the wise selection of fitting
members to represent them and their interest in
Parliament — a privilege many of them have never
before had the opportunity of enjoying. The
manners and customs of each succeeding generation
differ so widely from those of its predecessors, that a
fair contrast yields scope for argument, interesting
and instructive, from which many amusing facts and
agreeable morals may be gleaned. All things
animate and inanimate are, as we daily observe, in a
constant state of mutation. This all-powerful Nature
proclaims, to attentive observers, with never-failing
certainty. The weather changes from heat to cold,
and from wet to dry. The seasons differ : vegetables
and flowers grow and luxuriate at one time, at
another languish and die, according to the universal
law that governs all things. The first record we
have of this changeability in monarchs, was in the

CHANGE INEVITABLE. 347

case of Diocletian, who abdicated his throne for the
planting of cabbages; and the last example of a great
man so doing is that of the ex-Premier in vacating
his premiership for the felling of timber. The
familiar games invented for our amusement, croquet
and the skating-rink, have given place to badminton
and lawn-tennis. Man, the most intelligent of all
created beings, is the most capricious ; proposing to
himself the accomplishment of one thing, and ending
by doing another. In nothing, perhaps, is this vari-
ableness so marked as in racing. To illustrate this,
we need not go very far back in search of knowledge
from the records of antiquity. Every day proves it
too plainly, with regrettable certainty. The Olympian
games will show us that the charioteers drove their
steeds with reckless impetuosity, at the continual
risk of their lives, in the vain hope of obtaining a
perishable and worthless memento of their courage
and dexterity in driving. But those impractical
clays are past, and with them the pleasure they
excited in undergoing great feats and hardships for
the sake of barren honour, in ' giving from fool to
fool the laurel crown.' FalstafF did not believe in
honour, and I may ask, Who does ? ' Honour, who
hath it ? He that died o' Wednesday. Doth he feel
it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible then ?
Yea, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ?
No. AVhy ? Detraction will not suffer it : — therefore
I'll none of it.' Au'ain, Butler, in his inimitable

348 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

' Hudibras,' has in verse, like Shakespeare in prose,
compared it to a bubble :

' Honour is like that glassy bubble
That finds philosophers such trouble ;
Whose least part crack'd, the whole does fly,
And wits are crack'd to find out Avhy.'

So much for honour. As to money and learning, a
superficial knowledge of the immortal bard will
teach us in what estimation they were held in the
days in which he wrote. Of the one he said :
' Therefore, though gaudy gold, hard food for Midas,
I will none of thee ;' and of the other : ' I once did
count it, as our statist did, a baseness to write fair.'

Again, in the days before Shakespeare lived, and
in his own time, vile and useless men were most
sought after. Prince Henry, in his admiration of
FalstafF, said of him when alive : ' How now, my
sweet creature of bombast?' — and in his soliloquy,
when deeply lamenting his death : ' What, old ac-
quaintance, could not all this flesh keep in a little
life ? Poor Jack, farewell ! I could have better
spared a better man !'

So much for men, morals, and money, as they were
viewed in old days. I may now apply myself to the
strict consideration of the subject I have in view — the
progress made by trainers and jockeys in our days,
and the happy contrast which their present position
affords when compared with the, in this sense, be-
nighted condition of those of the older school. The

IMPROVED SOCIAL POSITION. 349

most sceptical, I think, will agree with me that the
present generation of these estimable beings could
show no greater wisdom than in their strenuous
endeavour to add, to the superior educational advan-
tages which they enjoy, the cultivation of the mind,
and the corresponding increase of virtue. And how
can they better reach a blessing so inestimable, than
by copying to the letter the worthy actions of ' the
wealthy curled darlings of our nation ' ? In the
courageous attempt to reach to this high moral tone,
they have nobly laid aside all squeamishness, and
betaken themselves to mansions built for others, but
destined for their habitation — to lordly palaces, or
the bijou residence of exquisite beauty tastefully
decorated, and affording every pleasure that man is
capable of thoroughly enjoying. Moreover, they have
creditably and soon learned from their employers all
that is worth knowing in this world, and how to
obtain their desires in all that is worth the having-.
In these Elysian abodes of luxury may be seen fairy-
like queens in great numbers, decked in splendid
attire, with coy duennas of incomparable beauty,
ready to introduce you to all the novel charms which
all the surrounding's afford. And like as ' one volun-
teer is worth many pressed-men,' so with these fair,
each lady in delicate and affectionate rivalry presses
her favours on all her dainty visitors alike without
distinction, in the most free and unselfish manner
imaginable. Here, too, her visitors are treated to a

35© TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

sight of those games in honour of Flora, at which we
are told Cato himself once was present, and retired
lest, as he said, the sight of his austere countenance
should hinder the enjoyment of the other spectators ;
a true revival of the amaranthine pleasures of past
ages. It is true that our forefathers were not
strangers to the little attentions due to ladies, nor
backward in paying them. It is true that to the
assemblage of the two sexes they attributed their
chief comfort as well as pleasure in life. But it was
their misfortune that in their days St. John's Wood
was unknown, and agapemones were unbuilt. It is
therefore no wonder that those of the present more
lucky generation, with unlimited capital at their dis-
posal, should seek to recruit their health, and re-
invigorate their mind, almost, if not actually, demented
by ceaseless overwork, by taking every opportunity to
visit, unencumbered by the possibly tiresome presence
of their family, their marine or other residences. For
so commendable a purpose., surely it is better to seek
health in inhaling the salubrious air of your own
coasts in your own or a hired pleasure-yacht, than
seek it in foreign climes after painful voyages ! At
least in so doing they properly receive the tacit
sanction of their employers, who from their own
experiences can appreciate so laudable and self-
sacrificing; an effort to secure so needful an aim.
Shooting, again, is a manly and invigorating sport,
having many votaries; and a few weeks spent on the

TRAVELLED EXPERIENCES. 351

Scottish moors, as Mr. Parr used to say, and he was
an authority, ' do more good than a month anywhere
else.' Hunting and coursing, both being inexpensive
amusements, come well within the compass, means,
and ability of both jockey and tramer, and are indulged
in with freedom.

Then, again, in travel in search of needful recrea-
tion, have any men, with the exception of idiotic
adventurers and foolish explorers, who lose their
lives for the sake of notoriety, or our sailors and
soldiers, had the opportunities of enriching them-
selves with important knowledge which our jockeys
and trainers enjoy? What ' moving accidents by
flood and field ' must they have witnessed before
reaching ' The rocks and hills whose heads touch
heaven,' in order to converse with the anthropophagi
and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders,
or dine with the cannibals of the Fiji Islands ! Europe,
Asia, Africa, and America they have traversed, and
carefully studied the manners and customs of the people
inhabiting those great and distant lands. In sum,
they have compassed the whole terraqueous globe in
search of knowledge and horses to ride ; for be it
known that in the vast and illimitable watery ele-
ments there exists the sea-horse in enormous multi-
tudes, untamable as the zebra, but less beautiful.
But that any of these great and noted travellers and
horsemen have left us any account of their peregrina-
tions and discoveries I am at present unable to ascertain.

352 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

Probably their experiences will be left for future
historians to delineate. Yet some such account,
differing perhaps not greatly in its scope from what
we might look for from them, has been handed down
to us by one Martinus Scriblerus, whose cosmo-
politan mind and herculean frame enabled him to
achieve extraordinary things, in or about the year
1669. A few of the wonders he relates I venture to
describe in a form best suited to give the greatest
amount of information perspicuously. In his first
voyage (for he had many), we learn ' that he was
carried by a prosperous storm to a discovery of the
remains of the ancient Pygmen Empire; that in his
second he was happily shipwrecked in the land of the
giants, now the most humane people in the world;
that in his third voyage he discovered a whole king-
dom of philosophers, who govern by mathematics,
with whose admirable schemes and projects he re-
turned to benefit his own dear country.' In his
travels he tells us he visited ' the highest mountains,
from the Peak of Derby to the Peak of Teneriffe; and,
amongst others, reached the top of the Caucasus,
and the famous Ararat, where Noah's Ark first
moored; Athos and Olympus, renowned for poetical
fiction, as -well as Vesuvius and Etna, and the burn-
ing mountain of Java. But chiefly Hecla, the greatest
rarity in the northern regions, whence he dived into
the bowels of the earth, and surveyed the work of
nature underground, and instructed himself fully in

VALUE OF TRAVEL. 353

the nature of volcanoes, earthquakes, thunder, and
hurricanes. He then returned to survey the deserts
of Arabia and Tartary' (these are the only two places
necessary for a jockey thoroughly to be acquainted
with) : ' and, before concluding his tour, he crossed
the seven gulfs, measured the currents in the lifteen
straits, and searched for those fountains of fresh-water
that are at the bottom of the ocean.' Here it was
that, in the home of Neptune, Scribulerus first saw
the sea-horse, sea-nymphs, and mermaids ; the fifty
daughters of Nereus and his sister, who he declares
were all young and beautiful virgins, sitting on
dolphins, with Neptune's trident or garlands in their
hands. Sea-horses at the time were, I imagine,
nothing thought of, being unmanageable for eques-
trian purposes ; for it does not appear that any were
captured, and, like the hippopotamus or river-horse,
brought home in triumph. This failure is the more
to be regretted, if only for losing the chance of im-
proving the breed of our present race of weight-
carriers just now so much in request. Our historian
of wonderful travels ends his narrative rather abruptly;
but in another authority — Professor E. D. Clarke's
' Travels,' vol. i., pp. 227, 228, a remarkable book of
vast erudition, held in great esteem by competent
judges for its truthful descriptions of matters and
things — we see what can be learned by those who, like
our jockeys, go abroad, and like them have that
valuable faculty, best if rudely described as ' being

23

!54 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

wide-awake.' In the following- passage he gives us
something akin to the wonders related by his elder
brother in travels.

' A report,' he says, ' was circulated all over Loretto
of a wonderful Madonna that had been discovered five
miles off within these last fifteen days, who was found
underground, and worked miracles every hour by the
dozen. The people of the house,' he continues, ' told
me that she got up in the night and rang the church
bells to call the people together, and did many other
wonderful things.' It appears from this veracious
history that its author was honoured with an invita-
tion to see this august and extraordinary person, but
declined the offer with great civility. It may perhaps
be that this mysterious and wonder-working lady,
though living close by, may, after all, have only been
a distant relation of the person I once heard of, who,
by occupation a timber-merchant, otherwise a match-
maker, for the sake of secrecy, and to escape the tax
proposed to be put on his manufactured goods by
Mr. Robert Lowe when Chancellor of the Exchequer,
worked out of sight, and pursued his daily avocation
two miles underground by the light of an enormous
diamond, which he carried secreted about his person
for the purpose.

So much for the travels of great men and what
they have seen and heard, and what we may expect
to learn, in due time, from the experiences in foreign
parts of jockeys and trainers. AVe may now descend

RAPID ADVANCE. 355

to consider the profession of racing in its more prac-
tical surroundings. We have only lately seen ' the
blue ribbon of Altcar ' fall to an elderly trainer of a
much-respected family living in the North. Indeedr
in these days, few gentlemen can boast of so laro;e a
kennel of greyhounds as our jockeys and trainers
often possess. This is but one feature of the all-
round success of the present generation, accounted
for in those engaged in the profession by the great
rapidity with Avhich they rise from one extreme of it
to the other. One day its adherent will be a boy in
the stable and a learner ; the next, a proficient teacher
of the subtle art, himself a trainer and owner of race-
horses, with a stud in value far above what the-
generality of employers can compass. And if these
quickly self-made men seldom run their horses in
their own name, it but shows a creditable diffidence-
which much becomes them.

Formerly trainers used to bring their sons up to>
the profession, and when they reached the age of
twenty-five or thirty, thought they might be toler-
ably efficient, and generally took upon themselves the
responsibility of conducting their own affairs. No
stable-boy then came quickly to the dignity of a
master ; because, in selfishness, the trainer would not
instruct him sufficiently, and reveal secrets of the
profession that were necessary for him to know in
order to successfully contend with his employer's son.

How many do so now? To-day precocious boys are

93 o

356 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

masters of the business before they are out of their
teens, in either capacity, and often in both ; whilst from
the kindness of gentlemen engaging them, and of
their employers in so highly educating them for the
station in life which they occupy with so much grace
and ability, they give presage of still greater know-
ledge and skill. We have trainers, undoubtedly men of
eminence, whose antecedents verily gave little promise
of the astounding wisdom which they have displayed.
We see this phenomenon in all trades ; but in my
own profession we see masters of the art created out
of barbers, packmen and piemen — Stebbing, Parr and
Petitt to wit, and others whose only acquirement was
the utter absence of all knowledge whatever of a horse
and its needs in any shape or form. ISTevertheless,
success however gained is genius, and talent in any
form will be recognised without regard to antecedents,
whether on the racecourse or in the Senate. The
latter, indeed, wants debating power ; and it is to be
regretted that up to the present time no member
of the racing profession in its two branches has ac-
ceded to the wishes of some powerful constituency
in order to represent the interests of a much-neglected
body, and to figure side by side with the self-sacri-
ficing Mr. Arch, the friend of everyone but himself,
or the elegant Mr. Bradlaugh, the champion of the
people's right to believe in nothing at all. For one
thing, trainers and jockeys have money, the one
powerful source of success without argument. They

NEED OE RELAXATION. 357

are not deficient in modern languages, and they are
disputative, and have a good choice of singularly fine
and powerful words, and are most anxious to be
heard. If a lecture lately given by a trainer to his
employer at Brighton before a large and respectable
concourse of strangers be any criterion, there can be
no doubt that our profession would shine in such a
meritorious assemblage as our present Parliament will
be. In short, there are ' great geniuses ' existing in
both branches of it, who only want the opportunity
to distinguish themselves anywhere, be it in the
Senate or on the field of battle.

Then as to the delicacy of treatment which
their physical condition imperatively requires. How
changed is all to-day from the rough ill-considered
usages of times gone by ! Does not the attenuated
form of the wasting jockey proclaim the absolute
necessity of relaxation, such as I have before alluded
to ? The over-burdened frame, the enervated system,
borne down with excessive labour and fatigue,
attended as it is with extreme depression of the
mental powers, all loudly demand it. Periodical
rest, not partial and remittent, but a total cessation
from all bodily exertion and mental excitement what-
ever, must be had. All men who are old enough to
remember things as they were forty years ago will
say, as I do, that no such needed recreation was
known or enjoyed in that primitive time. Those who
have carefully studied the history of Bimana will need

358 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

no assurance from me that no such-like indulgence
was encouraged, if existing in those days. Hence the
mental derangements or other ailments brought on
by inattention to hygienic principles, and a lack of
fixity of purpose to secure necessary comforts. Much
benefit has accrued in our day from the abandonment
of the smoking of bad tobacco and home-made cigars
at about a shilling the hundred, and of the vile spirits,
sold under the pretence that they were smuggled and
foreign, in which our forefathers were content to
indulge. Champagne is much lighter, and when well-
iced is a cool refreshing beverage with which to quench
early thirst. Well-matured wines of superior vintages,
and genuine spirits with foreign cigars, may be taken
later in the day, ad libitum, for the attainment of
good health ; in this way following the precepts of
Galen, and those of iEsculapius much to the same
purpose, which should not go unheeded.

Again, a few years ago, horses were taken to
exercise, if not in semi-darkness, at least at four
o'clock in the morning in the summer, exposed
to a humid and raw atmosphere, thus subjecting not
only themselves but the poor lads who rode them, as
well as the thoughtless trainer who in those days was
always seen with his horses, to colds, influenza, and
bronchial affections of every description. Indeed, to
this practice, no doubt, can be ascribed the prevalence
of illness amongst horses generally, and the existence,
in those days, of so many confirmed roarers. To-day

FOLLY OF EARLY RISING. 359

this is all happily changed. No exercise takes place
until the sun has wanned the atmosphere. The time
is appropriately fixed about nine o'clock, before the
heat is excessive :

' Now ere the sun advanced his burning eye,
The day to cheer, and night's dank dew to dry.'

In this way the new school avoids all dampness to the
horse's feet, so productive of catarrh, the forerunner
of all disease, and often terminating- fatally in
death. The father of the late Lord Shaftesbury had
a great abhorrence of a cold. By avoiding all risk
of such a thing as much as possible, he lived to a
great age, and when told by any friend that he was
pretty well ' except a slight cold,' he would reply,
' What ! would }^ou have the plague ?' This maxim
should be borne in mind by those who wish to escape
simple ailments, as they are termed, the dreadful
effects of which have been shown.

It is but fair to say that the credit of this great
discovery is entirely due to the intelligence of our
jockeys. Nine o'clock, or a little after, is in all con-
science early enough to exercise any horse, and before
that hoar or in wet weather they will not ride for
anyone. Though in strict justice to the trainer, it
may with equal truth be avowed that at least one has
set his face against the evil practice : as the lameness
of so many of his horses was ascribed to rheumatic
affections arising from damp and cold, more than from
any other cause whatever. This trainer won the

360 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

Derby after the change more than once ; but never
before. But alas ! ' Who can control his fate?' For
soon after we find he had to succumb, manfully fight-
ing the battle in the cause he so ardently espoused,
to uncontrollable hardships arising from extraneous
matters, ' Enough to have brought a royal merchant
down.' Though for the sake of science it should be
said that the new custom, so happily introduced under
such favourable auspices, had really nothing whatever
to do with the lamentable event, and is still carried
on successfully by the rest of the wily craft.

Jockeys used to ride at early exercise, and each
trainer had one who rode for the stables, and this
used to complete the day's work. But to-day they
have to ride horses for many trainers the same day,
at exercise, and for many days consecutively, before
a great race takes place ; and now these are very
frequent. This, by the good-nature of the trainer,
they are easily able to accomplish, by not galloping
the horses until it is quite convenient for the jockeys
to attend. It makes a little difference to stable
arrangements ; but this, in comparison with having the
jockey's services, is as nothing. By this s}'stem,
knowledge is gained that it would be absolutely im-
possible to obtain so effectually in any other way.
The advantage thus obtained for the benefit of the
jockey and trainer is, and must be admitted to be,
great. The jockey, to begin with, knows the form
of nearly all the horses in training ; and the trainer

WHY THE JOCKEY SHOULD CONTROL. 36 r

sometimes actually knows the form of his own horses.
Moreover, the owner shares in this triumph of genius
as well as the betting-men and touts, and through
them the public at large. Such universal knowledge
ought to extend its benefits to all that take part in
the amusement ; but somehow we don't quite find
it so in practice; for we are continually hearing wails
from disappointed owners, and of their censuring their
trainers for allowing secrets to escape before they
have taken advantage of knowledge that they should
have had exclusively to themselves. Trainers are
seldom satisfied with the results, which are often more
disappointing to themselves than to anyone else.
Jockeys, through the superior knowledge and the op-
portunities which no other people possess, given them
by the kindness of owners and trainers, in riding- so
many trials, properly ' rule the roast.' But ' we
cannot all be masters, nor can all the masters be
truly followed.' Yet owners, through the advice of
their jockeys and trainers, do often win large stakes,
and so may be said to be served ; an admitted fact for
which jockeys, as they should be, are always well
paid, and the trainer occasionally personally thanked.
In the present day, many wondrous facts have
been brought to light, which, but for the ingenuity
and indomitable pluck of the jockey, may have for
ever lain concealed in the hidden womb of time.
Owners see this, and for their own ends eagerly seize
the ' golden opportunity ' of securing the services of

362 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

these eminent persons for private trials or in public
races, in which they show themselves infinitely
superior to the vulgar racing-men of old. Who ever
saw or heard of Chifney, Buckle, Robinson, Butler,
or indeed any jockey of that day, riding horses in
the gallops, even for their own stables, much less for
any other? These ignorant trainers were even
satisfied with trying their horses with the lads who
usually rode them in their everyday work. This Sir
Joseph Hawley did, and a few others. Indeed, in
the present day a few trainers still adhere to the
obsolete practice ; but a bad system, however well
conducted, is sure to come to grief.

But, as in most things, so specially in the race for
wealth or money-making, the modern jockey has
outstripped every other horseman, and effectually left
owner and trainer behind him. He is the modern
Croesus; but a Croesus generous and liberal. I do
not say that this liberality is exercised in the distri-
bution of that wealth, but in the distribution of know-
ledge, which is better; for it enables him to add
greatly to his own fortunes. For valuable advice
given in this way they are continually being presented
with munificent sums ; as witness the generous deeds
of the American Walton, the renowned and amiable
Theodore ! Some owners, I am told, rather object to
this dissemination of useful knowledge. They go so
far as to say that it interferes with the state of the
odds. But as these complaints take the form of

DUMBFOUNDED OWNERS. 363

careless indirect comment, and not a face-to-face
accusation, we may take it that the jockeys are in the
right ; and that owners are really fond of seeing their
horses favourites, and tacitly admit their pleasure at
the fact that it should benefit everyone else and not
themselves.

In this matter of silent complaint, I am reminded
of a story to the effect that whilst two incorrigible
desperadoes were awaiting their trial in prison for a
petty larceny, they agreed to assist each other with
mutual information. The first man, Jones, on his
trial, abused with the most filthy epithets the judge
and jury, and the members of the bar, and was
honourably acquitted, and hastened to give Brown
(his companion) the benefit of his experience. But
Brown, notwithstanding his eloquence in the same
direction, was not successful; for he was put back for
three months for contempt of court. At first this to
Jones was unaccountable, though it was afterwards
explained on his saying :

' Do you think they heard you ?'

' Yes,' was the answer.

4 Ah,' was the prompt rejoinder, ' that made all the
difference, for they never heard me.'

Or owners may think with Juliet, in her reply to
County Paris, for an assurance of her love :

1 It will be of more price
Being spoken behind your back than to your face.'

In no particular is the marked improvement of

364 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

modern training shown more than in the riding of
trials and the galloping of the horses. In the dark
ages past, the trainer relied upon himself. With the
march of science, he would be a fool indeed who
would rashly attempt to do without the valuable
assistance of the jockey in a matter so essential to the
due preparation of his horses. It often happens,
indeed, under the new system, that in their gallops
the horses go a farther or a less distance than the
trainer has intended they should go, and in direct
opposition to his instructions, or go the distance
too fast or too slow. This miffht seem vexatious :
but on the return of the jockey the matter is quickly
set right by his saying, in the former case, that
' I found he (the horse) was blowing too much, and
was short of work, and I took him a little farther
and increased his speed ;' and in the other, ' I find
she (the filly) is very delicate, and I was afraid of
overdoing her, so let her go three-parts of the distance
at half the speed you requested, and suggest a day's
walking exercise now and then would do her good.'
This explanation the trainer accepts, though he can
hardly bring his mind, in a moment, calmly to believe
in facts so important. Information so intrinsically
astounding, however, is not to be lost sight of, and
the jockey's promises of a similar favour on the next
and succeeding days are readily welcomed. For with-
out such aid, in what sort of condition may we expect
to see horses sent to the post ? It once did very well,

MARVELLOUS HORSEMANSHIP. 365

perhaps, for the trainer to rely a little on his own
judgment in running long races ; bat, seeing he is
outstripped by the march of intellect, he to-day wisely
and tacitly accepts the proffered assistance of his own
or anybody's jockey, or indeed of anyone, and by the
friendly aid of owners and their dear respected friends,
he succeeds.

The skill of our modern artists in riding is, with
few exceptions, every day more and more conspicuous
in winning with a horse that apparently has no
chance of contending successfully with many of the
others he is engaged against ; and, in turn, by the
same delicate handling, the vanquished is proclaimed
the victor, to the astonishment of all concerned in the
wonderful transformation scene, and the delight of the
bystanders and bookmakers. Nothing in ancient
history is recorded of such surprising and truly
wonderful feats of horsemanship, nor could Witti-
combe himself at Astley's have produced anything so
marvellously effective. Formerly — that is to say, in
Mr. Chifney's time — horses were trained on the
severe sweating system, and ridden with loose reins
and severely punished, lest the jockeys should be
accused of not trying to win. Xow we see horse-
manship in a state nearer perfection than it was ever
witnessed before. In a long race the jockey, by the
exercise of patient calculation, will allow his field to
get a quarter of a mile before him, and when they are
all well beaten, takes the very nick of time to come

366 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

up and win an exciting race by a bare head. Another,
differently gifted though equally talented, takes and
keeps the lead and wins in a canter. This, however,
is not the popular style, nor is it liked by owners,
who foolishly think it may expose their horse unduly.
Nor is it gratifying to the artist himself; for, instead
of receiving the ovation which the other is sure of,
he may be derisively informed, on his return to the
scales, that ' any butcher could have done that.' It
has the advantage, certainly, of making the race
secure, which the more admired style lacks. For the
most approved and elegant way of riding of the
leading jockeys, is to wait till the last few strides, and,
if they have only a few pounds in hand, to come with
a tremendous rush at the last jump and win or lose
by a head. This is truly effective. To the rider it
is of no earthly consequence, for he is sure of an
ovation ; though to the disappointed owner it makes
a difference. To say that the jockey with a stroke or
two of his whip fairly ' lifts ' the tired creature for
the last few strides is not an exaggerated expression,
and one that may often be heard emanating from
lucky backers — that is, should the horse win. But
wdiether in making play or in waiting, our jockeys
seem as much at home in one way as the other, and
without adulation may fairly be said to be men of
great eminence in their great profession. Indeed, I
have often, w7ith painful forebodings, thought what a
distressing loss it would be to the world, more

A CONSOLATION. 367

particularly that part of it forming the racing com-
munity, if by any accident one of those great men
were incapacitated from following his professional
vocation ; and how the dire event would be bewailed
by a sorrowing multitude of friends and admirers,
till reading, by chance, a passage from ' The
Rambler,1 which revived my drooping spirits. This,
without comment, I literally transcribe for the benefit
of owners, trainers, and jockeys themselves :

' The world, says Locke, has people of all
sorts. As in the general hurry produced by the
superfluities of some and necessities of others, no man
need to stand still for the want of employment ; so
in the innumerable gradations of ability and endless-
varieties of study and inclination, no employment can
be vacant from want of a man qualified to dis-
charge it.'

Comforting and most acceptable words! Some-
thing very much akin to what I have elsewhere heard
to the effect that there is ' as good fish in the sea as
ever came out of it.' Let us hope, for the benefit
of the present and succeeding generations, it may
be so !

The olden time, Pope tells us in his ' Dunciad/
was dull. In Hamlet's day, according to the grave-
digger, the people of England wTere mad as Hamlet
himself. It was an age, all things considered, of
little learnino- and debasing luxurv. From this con-
dition we are, I hope, reformed altogether. The

368 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

orgies, the bacchanalian feats, the profligacy of other
times have vanished. This is specially the case on
the turf. ' Circumstances alter cases ' is an aphorism
that will apply to nothing more strictly than to the
late or early hours of rising in the past and present
days of racing. Locke himself, who laboured much,
was of opinion that all men must have seasons of
substantial repose, and more than is indulged in by
many that are not thought to be over-industrious.
In confirmation of this we have the old adage, ' All
work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.' Time,
philosophers say, should be divided into three equal
parts — for sleep, for recreation, and application to
study ; whilst others say, ' Six hours' rest for a man,
seven for a woman, and eight for a fool,' leaving the
inference to be deduced from such a conclusion that
the remainder should be divided between pleasure
and work. But it is not so much with the number of
hours allotted to repose, as with the proper period at
which it is taken. In old times jockeys and trainers
indulged in unnecessarily late hours, to the detriment
of their bodily health and the abuse of their morals.
It is true that hours equally as late, or even later, are
the fashion now. But it is just here that the case is
altered by its surroundings. Under their present
wiser system, jockeys and trainers have from five
o'clock in the evening to nine o'clock the next
morning to themselves. By the institution of the
fashionable late dinner they wisely get through two

THE WHOLE SECRET REVEALED. 369

hours or so pleasantly, and yet more agreeably make
the remainder pass away without weariness in some
convivial party, which breaks up at three o'clock
in the morning, when all seek in calmness the allotted
hour of repose. We hear of no dissipation, no cards
or dice, no night-brawlers disturbing the peace of
their neighbours, no licentious revelry, nor mixture
of the sexes at improper times or places ; no ribald
jesting, and, above all, no fighting over a misapplied
word or ambiguous sentence uttered in an amusing
strain of exuberant conviviality.

If one proof were asked of me to show the obvious
intuitive knowledge and superior Avisdom of our
present race of riders, the following incident will
clinch the question. I have before mentioned that
trainers are often disappointed, and even dissatisfied
(though it is not politic to show it to their jockeys),
at the running of their horses in public. For this,
no reason can be assigned. All sorts of excuses have
been formed ; such as the want of skill on the part of
the jockey, though not substantiated — a difficult
thing at all times to do ; the state of the ground ;
the inequalities of the course ; or the unsuitable
distance the horse has had to run. But all to no
purpose, till a youthful rider, like another Alexander,
'cut the Gordian knot,' by saying, quite unoffensively
and without the least hesitation, to the trainer, an
old man :

24

37o TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

1 He is not fit, sir ; but when he is he will win you
a good race.'

Unfortunately he did not say if the horse was too
big or too light, that it might in its future prepara-
tion be put right. Therefore the tedious difficulty
had to be overcome by experience; whilst he might
have solved the mystery beyond doubt and in an
instant, and may further have informed the trainer
how long it would have taken to remedy his mistaken
preparation and the steps necessary for the comple-
tion of such a weighty matter — thus pressing the
thing to a logical conclusion, and having himself
hailed as a benefactor to mankind, and ranked
amongst the great discoverers of the day. ' There
are,' we are told, ' few tasks more unthankful than
for persons of modesty to speak their own praises.
In some cases, however, this must be done for the
general good : and a generous spirit asserts its merits
and vindicates itself with becoming warmth.' Some
such generous sentiment, we can well believe,
actuated the feelings of this intelligent youth when
he thus unostentatiously expounded this great
discovery. But I feel bound to disclose the whole
circumstances ; to accord the praise to him to whom it
is due. And, therefore, I publicly make known the
fact that the ability so shown was exhibited by a
light-weight jockey at Brighton, who discovered the
comparatively aged trainer's error, and with candour
so deserving of all praise made known the discovery

THE MODERN STABLE. 371

of an error that, without such disinterested out-
spokenness on his part, might have remained a secret
standing menace to the whole profession.

So much for the debt that our profession owes to
the jockey. But the trainer of the new school
deserves also his meed of praise. When we compare
him with his predecessor, we must make allowance
for what he has to do. In the present day he will
have, perhaps, a hundred horses in training, half as
many brood-mares, a few stallions, thirty or forty
foals, and a like number of yearlings to look after;
besides his carriage-horses, hacks, and hunters,.
forming; no small addition to everv well-regulated
establishment. Then to those who have farms and
sporting proclivities must be added the supple-
mentary care of cart-horses, cattle, and kennels 01
greyhounds, spaniels, and sporting dogs innumerable.
In sum, he must perform the feat of the personal super-
vision of some two hundred and seventy horses,
besides sheep, oxen, swine, cows, and calves of treble
that number ; with dogs, cats, rabbits, cocks, hens,
and chickens thrown in. So great, indeed, is the
mental strain, that rest is imperative ; though it
would seem impossible had I omitted to mention
that so admirably are these modern establishments
regulated, and so completely are those employed
kept under control, they can be carried on with
perfect harmony under delegated authority, in the
frequent absence for weeks together of the trainer

24—2

372 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

himself. Indeed, so thoroughly do owners under-
stand how great is the strain upon them, that they
almost insist that this should be so.

He has always the comfort of knowing that in his
absence he is sure of the aid of the veterinary
surgeon, who in old days was known as ' the cow-
leech,' when the panacea for everything was blood-
letting or cathartics — remedies which as often killed
as cured, and in combination did to death the stoutest
horse. But under modern improvements and new
sanitary arrangements, we know that disease has, or
has almost, disappeared. Strangles and influenza, if
they do appear, appear in a mild form, and at once
succumb to veterinary treatment. Moreover, we
know how suddenly illness overtakes horses.

' He's mad,' says the fool in ' King Lear,' ' that
trusts to a horse's health, as well as a boy's love,
or a courtezan's oath.'

In disease, the next best thing to doing anything
well, is to do it quickly. Here the advantage of the
modern system is shown in teaching the head-lad
how to distinguish between the different diseases, and
by allowing him access to the medicine-chest, to
ensure the administration of the proper nostrum
without the least delay. For when castor-oil has
proved little effective, croton-oil, mix vomica, calomel
and arsenic are readily exhibited.

Amongst our advanced trainers the absolute neces-
sity of daily administering a ball is recognised as an

CONDITION BALLS AND OTHERS. 373

essential of training, and in their opinion could as ill
be spared as either food or exercise. They are given
just before the horses take their exercise, or immedi-
ately on their return to the stables on an empty
stomach. Mr. Parr, to whom I believe the honour
of this great discovery is due, used to give them at
the former time ; but so long as they are regularly
administered once a day, or even in the night, I don't
think there is much difference in their powerful effect ;
for we know that epicures take their digestive pills,
either just before they dine, or late in the evening.
Then there are fever-balls, tonic and laxative; balls
for giving tone and clearing the respiratory organs,
such as the prima donna will take for strengthening
her vocal powers. For removing the rumbling caused
by flatulency, a complaint to which the racehorse is
very liable, another ball is given as necessity requires.
The component parts of this most excellent of all
medicines is a secret known only to the favoured few
who make it ; but I think I am not for wrong: in
stating that, in essence, this ball closely resembles
' Page "Woodcock's celebrated Wind Pills,' which have
so startling an effect upon the human system. To
name others, or to oive a list of the various drinks
and powders that cannot now be dispensed with,
would be to extend my observations to the length
of a treatise on medicine, for which end I lack
time, space, and ability. I will therefore content
myself with saying, that that most useful remedy, the

374 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

ball for reducing corpulency, is of a rather purgative
character, requiring careful watching, owing to the
necessity of repeating the close at frequent intervals,
and the placing of the animals entirely in the hands
of the veterinary surgeon. The condition-ball is the
last I shall mention. It is more simple, and may be
given at any time, and is, I think, the most desirable
of all. Its powerful effects are shown in the muscular
development of the whole frame, and the splendidly
glossy appearance of the horse's coat, always the
recognised indications of the standard of health and
acme of condition. The use of balls was not
unknown to our forefathers ; for I remember to have
heard Mr. L. 0. Weeks, a celebrated practitioner,
say, when attending the Danebury stables, that ' a
dozen or two of his cayenne-balls would make the
horse eat the rack and manger, if his craving for food
were not quickly allayed.' But old-fashioned trainers
were properly restrained from experimentally treating
the animals they had to train ; or what would have
become of the whole equine race ? And it has been
left for later professors to prove beyond possibility of
doubt that things are chan^inii", and changing for the
better; and that a complete victory over all disease
has been achieved by the free use of the medicine-
chest, and the initiation of the head -lad into the
mysteries of the medical art. Indeed, a few months
ago a very clever country practitioner was heard to
say ' that the head-lad knew as much of veterinary

FLOWERS AS AN ADJUNCT. 375

practice as he did himself — an avowal that of itself
speaks volumes. It is true that now, as in old days,
disease will make its unwelcome appearance, and that
horses will and do get incurably lame. But it has
not been proved, or even recorded, in any single
case in which a serious or fatal end has supervened,
that the fault has been that of either the veterinary
surgeon or the head-lad. Indeed, it has only been
through the knowledge of these gentlemen, on a post-
mortem examination, that the true nature of the disease
has been traced; that in its incipient state it was fatal,
and that there was nothing to be done but to let it
take its course, and life ebb gently away.

In the surroundings of the stable itself, what
improvements have been made ! The unhealthy dung-
pit in the yard has been done away with, and its
place taken by parterres of lovely flowers. We know
how dainty horses are in eating and drinking ; how
water put into a bucket that has before contained any
greasy substance will be rejected. How grateful to
the olfactory powers of animals with such an acute
sense of smell must be the aroma of these odoriferous
plants, tastefully set out in beds of divers colours !
These mellifluous perfumes, taking the place of the
deleterious gases, almost entirely do away with the
necessity of having choice exotics in the stable itself;
for which the late Lord Hastings, before coming to
Danebury, once found a charge in his account of £70."
Moreover, who can say that the virtue ends here ?

376 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

Who can tell what benefit the animals may derive
from beholding such beautiful things on leaving and
returning to the stable ? What trainer, in the old
time, did not know the fatal effects of glanders in his
stable, as in the case of the late Mr. Isaac Sadler,
who, on first going to Stockbridge, lost nearly the
whole of his stud through that disease ? I may say
that, then, flowers were unknown as a decoration,
except ' in the perfumed mansions of the great,' or
they might have proved a powerful antidote to this
complaint.

Again, as to the food given to the racehorse, how
knowledge has advanced with the march of time !
In the olden days it was of the simplest kind, least
calculated to repel disease. Oats, hay, and straw,
with occasional bran-mashes as a precautionary
measure against constipation or inflammation, ex-
haust the whole catalogue. But we have since
learned that change of food is essential to the health
of all animals, and especially of those in captivity.
We have now a variety of food unknown till lately, a
few kinds of which I will venture to enumerate.
Linseed is now given, either boiled as a mash with
oats or mixed dry with the corn. This has a stimu-
lating effect, and if properly and regularly administered
in sufficient quantities, will ensure, if nothing else, a
glossy coat and round barrel. Wheat, barley, beans
and peas, both white and grey, are usually given
with oats on account of their strengthening qualities.

SUGGESTIONS AS TO FOOD. 377

Vetches, trifolium, lucern, clover, and all the natural
grasses make a nice change, if sparingly administered,
throughout the summer. For the winter, carrots,
white and red, mangel-wurzels, and Swedish turnips
form a nutritious food ; whilst for the spring, nothing
yet has been equal in its beneficial effect to a regular
diet of water-cresses. But as for over-worked or
delicately constituted horses the restorative qualities
of dry food are admittedly unrivalled, various con-
diments are now pretty generally used in first-class
establishments, such as ' Thorley's Food for Cattle,'
and ' Brownie's Calf Mixture.' As to their beneficial
effects in the stable, I need only refer the reader to
the beautifully coloured works of art to be seen at
every railway station.

Yet with all that to this point has been achieved,
further improvement may be possible. 1 do not say
it is. I have no such presumption. I only point to
certain foods not yet embraced within the list of
stable-fare, and to their qualities ; leaving to others
of greater judgment and experience the choice and
manner of their use. Indian corn may be given in
combination with rye, the laxative properties of the
former assisting the digestion in extracting the nutri-
tious qualities of the latter. Holcus saccharine is
considered feeding, is palatable, and is generally
given in cases of mental weakness. Potatoes and
arrowroot, from the starch they contain, are nearly
allied to cereals, which thev might often beneficially

378 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

supersede. Cow-cabbage — or drumhead, by which
name it is better known to the rustics — on which
sheep and kine do so well, must have cooling pro-
perties, and great results may be confidently looked
for from the extensive use of this esculent. Again,
lettuces, radishes, celery, and mustard-and-cress are
appetizing to a delicate stomach ; and the onion and
leek, so beloved of man in their raw state, would pro-
bably become palatable to the equine tribe when
accustomed to their use; just as donkeys, from an
acquired taste, give the preference to the thistle.
Artichokes, vegetable marrows, spinach, and asparagus,
with many well-known garden products, will occur
to mind as edibles that may be given to horses
without any fear of ill-results, and indeed with the
full expectation of producing some extraordinary
benefit.

I have now only to offer with becoming diffidence
a suggestion which, it appears to me, has to this time
unaccountably eluded the observation of those who
give their powerful intellects to the study of the
wants of the racehorse. For centuries past nothing
whatever has been added to water as their beverage.
We know that wine and spirits have been given neat
to horses just before running a race, with extra-
ordinary effect. But why not give them at other
times, or mix them in palatable proportion in the
water they drink ? Linseed-tea and other strengthen-
ing vegetable infusions also appear to have been over-

ASSES' MILK. 379

looked. White-wine whey, given after a hard day's
work, or to horses with colds, must be nourishing
and grateful. And why should not milk, the most
nutritious of all liquids for foals and yearlings, be
given to old horses ? Cows' milk would no doubt be
good, but asses' milk would be infinitely better,
because of the closer affinity of the genus to the
equine race. And there would be no difficulty ; for
1 the purveying of asses' milk ' is now a common and
honourable vocation. I am quite serious in my
advocacy of it. It is highly recommended by the
faculty, and extensively used in all families of dis-
tinction. Milk, indeed, has acknowledged wonderful
properties. A pompous person once rested his claims
to greatness solely on its wonderful efficacy.

' Do you know,' said he, addressing himself to a
farmer with whom he was disputing — ' do you know
that I was brought up at the hands of two wet-
nurses ?'

' That may be,' replied the other ; ' and with much
the same effect that I witnessed with a calf that was
reared by two cows. It only made him the greater
calf.'

The effect of asses' milk on the human subject
is thus narrated by Miss Digby, daughter of Lord
Digby, of Sherborne Castle, Dorsetshire, who, in
writing of her brother's illness in a letter to Mr.
Pope, dated July 17th, 1724, says: 'Last night he
began to drink asses' milk, which had the usual

380 TRAINERS AND JOCKEYS.

effect in irivino; him a ffood night's rest, free from
pain.' The original letter may be seen in the
British Museum, with a translation of the ' Odyssey '
on the back of it.

I will not say more on this subject. I must trust
to having been explicit in stating my theory. I will
revert, in conclusion, to the difference between the
jockey and trainer of to-day and their predecessors.
But first a well-deserved compliment must be paid to
the owners of racehorses, not only for their urbanity
of manner, but for their discreet and disinterested
conduct in leaving to the jockeys the sole manage-
ment of their horses. Indeed, I think all jockeys
should be trainers. Owners of horses now rightly
and unmistakably express their entire satisfaction
with their jockeys, and their sincere admiration for
them. Social distinction, however great, nowadays
forms no barrier against intimate acquaintanceship.
Even friendship, often most hastily formed, is known
to exist between the two, for a time. With them
' familiarity breeds no contempt.' Gentlemen seldom
attempt to admonish even in the mildest terms under
any provocation, serviceable as advice so given would
often be, for fear of repeating the fiasco by which a
nobleman was deprived of the valuable services of a
jockey for ever. It came about through his folly in
injudiciously asking him why he did not attend
to ride one of his horses the week before. The
matter, report has it, was taken before the authorities,

CLEMENCY OF JOCKEYS. 381

and the evidence of the jockey, most fairly given, to
the effect that ' private business of a delicate nature
required his personal attendance at his private resi-
dence in the suburbs of London,' at once settled the
case in his favour. The effect has been good ; for no
further offence on the part of an owner in attempt-
ing to ' carpet ' his jockey has occurred since last
November.

I trust in what I have said I have not, in the
warmth of discussion, too severely criticized the
sayings and doings of the veterans of the old and
effete school, who in their da}7 had many warm friends
and sincere admirers. Nay, I must allow that there
are some living who still speak of their virtues
and talents in terms of high praise. Nor on the
other hand will it, I hope, be thought that in my
desire to do justice to the merits of the great men of
the present day, I have written euphemistically of
their high qualities, or have courted their favour — a
course which would be distasteful, I am sure, to
a body at once so enlightened and fearless of the
world's opinion. Of myself individually, I have not
said a word directly or indirectly. As one of the
body I must stand or fall, excused or accused, by their
unbiased verdict. I have ventured to show the dif-
ferences existing between the old and the new schools
by stating unvarnished facts ; and the difference is
so palpably manifest as to make any comparison, as
Dogberry has it, ' odorous.'

CHAPTER XXII.

ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

Excellent position as a banker— Perverse misuse of it — An
example at Newmarket — Turf career— Our joint ownership of
horses.

Traducer in the Two Thousand — The Gillie's dead-heat with
Brick — The trial and the race— Manrico — Getting a horse out
of a well — A bet luckily recovered — Partial stud successes —
How a breeding establishment may be ruined — Curious disposal
of yearlings — Other costly occupations, and result — A fortune
saved on a pound a week — The teeth-test with chickens and
horses — How Delilah lost and won her pedigree — Social
attributes.

Mr. Simpson, of Diss, in Norfolk, was probably one
of the most eccentric men of the age ; though he did
not betray outwardly the least symptom of any pecu-
liarity. He dressed as other gentlemen were usually
attired, neither foppishly nor meanly. His household
establishment was in keeping with his social position.
He had his meals at fashionable hours ; and took
walking, riding, and driving exercise, and in no way
differed from the custom of living the life of a country
gentleman. He married when young a Miss Manning,
an attractive lady of considerable fortune, who pos-

POSITION AS A BANKER. 383

sessed personal charms without vanity, and pre-
possessing manners without affectation. He was a
banker by profession, in partnership with his uncle,
Mr. Fincham, whose fortune at his death he inherited,
besides the bank at Diss. This concern had several
branches at different towns and villages in the nei^h-
bourhood, and, independently of his private fortune,
brought him a gentlemanly income, and he appa-
rently wanted for nothing that could conduce to his
happiness and well-being. But, alas, he wanted
more ! ' It is never,' we are told, ' without very
melancholy reflections that we can observe the mis-
conduct or miscarriage of those men who seem
exempt from the general frailties of human nature
and privileged from the common infelicities of life.
Though the world is crowded with scenes of calamity,
we look upon the general mass of wretchedness with
very little regard, and fix our eyes upon the state of
particular persons whom the eminence of their quali-
ties mark out from the multitude : as in reading- an

o

account of a battle, we seldom reflect on the vulvar
heaps of the slain, but follow the hero with our whole
attention through all the varieties of his fortune,
without a thought of the thousands that have fallen
around him.'

Mr. Simpson may be well described as one of those
who, amongst his own associates and connections at
least, was thus ' marked out from the multitude ' by
the solidity of an assured jDOsition; but also as one

384 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

who, instead of making- the most of his advantages,
' dissipated his wealth in a boundless vanity, without
profit either to others or himself.' Besides the bank
and its branches, he had other businesses to which he
could not or did not attend. Inattention to the
concerns of the former was alone the cause of his
losing thousands a year. Of this I remember one
instance when he was attending' the races at New-
market. I may say I never saw him at any other
race-meeting ; but latterly he was, as a rule, present
at the gatherings on the Heath, and he would some-
times, I believe, visit Yarmouth. During the racing
at the former place, one of his clerks used to come
once or twice a week, bringing his letters and taking-
instructions back to the head- manager. On one
occasion he was much annoyed to find a customer had
overdrawn his account £1,500, of which sum, he told
me, he should never see a guinea again. This caused
him to write a strong letter to his manager, to tell
him never to let any other man overdraw his account
in his (Mr. Simpson's) absence from home. A few
davs after, he found that his best client had taken
away his account on being refused the usual over-
draft; and this, he told me, was worse than the other,
and he must leave at once to see if he could not
remedy the matter. But I never heard with what
success.

His career on the turf cannot be considered suc-
cessful, though he had his chances. In some portion

JOINT OWNERSHIP OF HORSES. 385

of it I was associated with him. He had, amongst
other expensive and multifarious undertakings, to
which I shall later refer, an extensive breeding:
establishment. The yearlings he bred and did not
sell, he either trained himself, or gave them to some
trainer for a share in their winnings should they
prove successful. With me, at different times, he had
many horses ; and amongst them the following :
Traducer, Manrico, The Gillie, Isthmian, Signalman,
Watchbox, Countersign, and Colt by Vedette, dam by
Cowl out of Venus. These, with many others, were
our joint property.

Traduce)' was a good horse, and if he had been second,
instead of being beaten, as he was, half a length for
second place in the Two Thousand in The Wizard's
year, would have won it; for the jockey who rode
the winner carried 2 lb. over the weight declared, and
would have been disqualified, just as Wells was dis-
qualified on Blue Gown in the Champagne Stakes at
Doncaster, for riding 2 lb. overweight without de-
claring it; only in our case, the second horse, Mr.
Tute's (alias Mr. Padwick's) Map was in the same
stable as the winner, and, as all the party had largely
backed the latter, no objection was made. The trial
of Traducer for this race showed he had a good
chance for it. In it he beat Promised Land, then in
very good form, a mile, at 16 lb.,' by a head. The
fact is, in the race itself he met an extraordinary
good horse at the distance in The Wizard; and it was

25

386 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

only the fact that he closely pressed him across the
bottom and half-way up the hill that allowed Bap
just to divide them at the finish. With the winner
out, my horse must have won. It shows, indeed, how
much luck there is in having to meet good or bad
horses. For had Promised Land, in the year he won
it, met anything so good as The Wizard, he must
have lost ; just as Traducer, had he, in his year,
nothing better to beat than Cynricus, must have won.
Traducer, after winning a race for us at Chester, was
sold for £1,500 to Lord William Powlett, as I have
named.

I stood more money outright, i.e., without hedging
a shilling, on The Gillie, at Goodwood, for the
Nursery there, than I ever did on any other race.
How far I was justified the trial will show. The
following are the horses that took part in it, and the
weights each carried :

The Gillie, 2 yrs., 8 st. 7 lb. . . .1

Muezzin, 2 yrs., 7 st. 5 lb. ... 2

Surbiton Hill, 3 yrs., 7 st. . . . .3

Salisbury, 2 yrs., 6 st. . . .4

Ground good going after the late rain. AYon
by a length ; three lengths and a length, respec-
tively, separating the others. Distance, one mile.
All the horses were in good form at the time.
Muezzin had won the New Two-year-old Stakes at
Epsom Spring Meeting, beating Orphan, that had
the day before won the Two-year-old Stakes, and

'THE GILLIE'S' DEAD-HEAT. 387

Le Marechaly a good horse that afterwards won the
Gimcrack Stakes at York. On the day of the race
Elcho, one of mine, won the Metropolitan, with
Caractacus second, the winner at the next Epsom
meeting of the Derby. The Waterloo Plate I wron
with Lord Coventry's colt by Mildew out of Under-
hand's dam ; and the Balaclava Stakes with a filly
of my own by Tadmor out of Fortune-teller, beating
fourteen others. These were the only four horses I
ran that day, proving my trying tackle was to be
relied on ; and yet BrieJc, at their respective weights,
was as good as mine, for we ran a dead-heat. We
divided the stakes, and the bets were, of course, put
together and divided, each taking half in the usual
way.

Now if the running; was correct — though I can-
not for a moment accept it as having been so — it
would make Brick a long way the best horse of his
year, or perhaps of any year, and of this public form
never gave any proof whatever. The Gillie, we have
seen, was 16 lb. and a beating better than Muezzin ;
and Brick, allowing 2 lb. to have enabled him to win,
was 16 lb. better than The Gillie, which made him
32 lb. better than Muezzin, or a stone superior to the
best horse of his year. Yet he ran unplaced in the
Biennial Stakes at Ascot, and only beat an. animal
like Taje a neck at Goodwood. So in this case, as
in many others, the trial was the truer form ; and if
I did not win the race outright, it was rather from

25—2

3 S3 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

some ' controllable cause ' than from an error in
judgment.

With our other horses we ran first for the Danebury
Nursery with the colt by Vedette, dam by Cowl out
of Venus, and won a good stake over it. Manrico
was prevented running in the Goodwood Nursery by
an accident. But he afterwards won us, amongst other
races, the Trial Stakes at Lincoln, and the next day
was sold to Lord Westmoreland, for whom I won the
Lincolnshire Handicap with him. The other horses
Ave had together did nothing beyond winning many
races of little note.

As the accident to Manrico was singular, the parti-
culars of it will be of interest. After arriving at
Westerton, where we were staying for the week, the
horses having been cleaned, watered, and fed, we
had our dinner, and soon after returned to the stable
to finish doing the horses for the night. On entering
Maurice's box, the boy that went into the stable first
came running; back to me and said :

' Oh, sir, the horse is gone!'

' Where to?' I asked.

But he only replied :

' I don't know.'

The search for him was not so difficult as looking
for the proverbial pin in a bundle of hay, for I soon
saw his head about a foot below the surface of the
stable, oscillating, like the pendulum of a clock, from
one side to the other of a gloomy cavity. The well,

A HORSE IN A WELL. 389

for such it was, into which he had fallen had, it
appears, been closed and pitched over, like the rest of
the stable, some years before, and therefore its pre-
sence could not be detected ; but the pitched flooring-
had given way with the weight of the horse's hind-
quarters. His position was erect, his two fore-legs
and head and a part of his neck being all that could
be seen of him. The news of the accident spread
with great rapidity, and we soon had plenty of
volunteers very kindly tendering their assistance ;
everyone knowing the best and safest way of extract-
ing him from his perilous position. Among racing-
people, the two first to arrive were Captain Hawksley
and the lovely ' Nelly ' ; Mr. Gr. Angell following-
soon after.

I had previously and luckily taken the precaution,
to prevent the horse doing himself any mischief, to
stuff two sacks with hay, and have them placed at
the sides of the well. My own opinion had been
from the first, that he would have to be dug out.
But, at the suggestion of a gentleman present, who
was positively certain that if a rope were passed
beneath his fore-legs — not an easy thing to do — and
swung over the beam in the stables, the horse would
come out as easily as drawing a cork from a bottle, for
Ave had plenty of strength, I allowed this to be tried.
But what terrible results would have followed if the
operation had been persevered in, I cannot say. I
had to stop it when it had become a nice question

>9o ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

whether it would end in dividing the poor animal
asunder, or in bringing the roof of the stable bodily
to the ground ; for it was fast giving way under
the pressure. Lots of people then said that ' they
knew it would be so.' But, possessing this gift
of prophecy, it is to be regretted they did not
exercise it before the attempt, and not after its
failure.

Yet undeterred, each one had again his own plan
to suggest, as visionary and absurd in my opinion as
the first. Consequently, I would not listen to them,
and insisted on having my way tried. Pickaxe and
shovel were soon had, and the ground removed in
front of the horse's fore-legs in a slanting direction
towards the manger, so that in struggling he might,
with assistance, be enabled to get footing; and he
walked out, like climbing up a steep hill, at two
o'clock the next morning, and was thus rescued from
his uncomfortable situation. Mr. Angell, with the
rest, worked like a nigger. Poor creature! when
once more on his legs — the horse I mean, not Mr.
Angell — he was unable to support himself without
assistance ; his hind-parts being seemingly paralyzed.
But on removing the dirt and being carefully tended,
he recovered, and was enabled the next day to return
home in the van that had brought him. It was very
remarkable that in the fall he had only rubbed a little
skin from off his back, and slightly cut his near hind-

les;.

A BET ON 'MACARONI: 391

Mr. Simpson had horses in training at Newmarket.

The best of these was True Blue, who did him some
good, but might have done much more ; for he was
capable of greater things than to win two or three
little races. I do not think that on the whole his
racing, pure and simple, was a very costly amuse-
ment to him ; and in betting he could scarcely have
been out of pocket. To begin with, he was not fond
of it, or objected to it as harmful to his standing as a
banker. He seldom backed his own or other people's
horses. When Macaroni won at Newmarket, how-
ever, he wanted to back him for the Derby, and did
so, getting 8 to 1. Fearing, I suppose, that some of
his people at Diss should hear that he betted, he
never put the bet down in his pocket-book, and when
he found Macaroni had won, wrote to ask if I could
tell him whom it was he had betted with. But I could
not ; and he would have lost the money, had not Mr.
F. Fisher, who heard the bet made, given him the
name of the person who made it some weeks after-
wards, and he recovered his £800. Of course
betting-men do not anxiously search for those to
whom they owe money. They think it time enough
to pay it when it is demanded. On the other hand,
if you lose money to them, you are sure to hear from
them at once — which is, after all, only business.
Beyond this bet, I never knew him risk anything,
unless it was on something which we jointly owned,
and this was not a losing business.

392 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

He had some successes, too, with his stud. He
owned Tadmore, Lacydes and Vedette. The latter he
bought of Lord Zetland for £3,000, at my wish ; and
he, like Bay Middleton, could get a good horse for
anyone else but his owner. Still he got marry
winners for us, as did Promised Land, which Mr.
Simpson also had. He gave Lord William Powlett
£1,200 for him; but he was not a success at the
stud, at which I was much surprised. Many people
thought that both he and Vedette had too many
mares. But though that theory may apply to the
former, it can scarcely be said of the latter; for
Vedette got the winner of the Derby, Speculum, and
other pretty good horses. From his stud sj)rang
Galopin, by Vedette out of Flying Duchess, by
Flying Dutchman out of Merope, winner of the
Derby, and one of the greatest sires of to-day ; as did
also Seclusion, who was bred there by Tadmore out
of Miss Sellon, winner of many races and afterwards
the dam of Hermit, winner of the Derby. Further-
more, it may be said that Cast Off was the dam of
Robert the Devil, by Promised Land out of Wa?w?ia,
from the Diss stud.

Mr. Simpson, in fact, dissipated his wealth ' in a
boundless vanity,' as I have said, which, in his case,
took the form of eccentricities in the method in
which he would conduct one and all of the affairs he
was engaged in. Everything he undertook he did
badly. His breeding establishment was one of the

CURIOUS BREEDING STUD. 393

largest in England, and must alone have cost him a
great fortune, whilst it could have afforded him little
pleasure, as he only saw his mares once a week, and
that generally on Sunday afternoon. He had more
horses than he had room for. His mares were badly
bred and worse attended. They were crammed into
small paddocks which they trod to a mud-pond in
wet weather, whilst the sun made them like brick-
fields in dry. In some paddocks there was no
shelter at all ; but in others there were open sheds to
which the mares could retire in inclement weather.
But here, from overcrowding, many got kicked, and
sometimes fatally injured by the vicious propensities
of the others. In this way many a foal has been
destroyed or rendered useless for racing purposes.
He had cribs placed in most of the enclosures — they
could hardly be called paddocks — ranging from one to
two acres each, though it is true some were more
extensive. He separated the foaling from the
barren mares as soon as he knew, or thought that
he knew, those that were in foal. Their food in
summer consisted of grass, vetches, or trifolium — in
fact, they lived on soiling ; and in winter, mangel
wurzel and swedes, given whole in large quantities,
with field hay, mostly made on his own farm.
Latterly, I think, he gave his mares with foals by
their side a little corn, which the latter had no
chance of getting the benefit of under such unfavour-
able circumstances. But after they were weaned he

394 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

was much more liberal in their diet, as well as in the
quality of it. His stud altogether must have suffered
very much from bad management and inattention to
their requirements — insufficiency of strength was a
fatal error. ' A penny wise and pound foolish '
system is not a good one ; yet he thought so, and did
not mind ' spoiling the ship for the sake of a penny-
worth of tar.' To look after some ninety brood-
mares, fifty foals, forty yearlings, and three stallions,
he had a stud-groom on a pound a week, with eight
or nine men and a couple of boys under him. The
number of foals and yearlings, it will be seen, is not
quite up to the average; but the wonder is rather
that he had so many. When he commenced, his
stallions were like his mares, bad ; but afterwards he
bought a different and better class. He hired Happy
Land (own brother to Promised Land) from me, but
after serving a few of his mares, on leaving one he
fell backward and broke his back. He was only five
years old at this time, and a great loss to me. I
never received one shilling compensation.

The way in which he used to dispose of his
yearlings was singular. He would sell in a lot
the whole at about £40 each, or let you take half the
best at about £60 each ; or he avouIc! sell and take in
exchange for part of the money, cows, pigs, or
bullocks ; but, like all bankers, he liked to see some
cash. He once sold a lot to Mr. William Stebbing
for Messrs. B. Green and Co. ; but I don't think much

COSTLY PURSUITS. 395

good was done with them. I bought many of his
yearlings, sometimes at Diss privately, and sometimes
at Newmarket by public auction, year after year.
I once bought forty-five of him at one deal at £40
each, jointly with Mi*. Pad wick, who, as I have related,
repudiated the purchase. These I took to Alvediston
by special train of fifteen horse-boxes, where they all
arrived safely without the least accident of any kind
happening to any one of them. After some little
time I had them sold there, and had a very good
sale : so on the whole I had no cause to regret
my bargain.

Besides this expensive, extensive and ill -regulated
establishment he kept a pack of harriers and a large
stable of high-priced hunters, which he seldom if ever
rode. Moreover, he was fond of shooting, and shot
well. Indeed, this was the only sport I ever saw him
take any delight in. He always rented one good
manor, and sometimes two, besides having one of his
own, all well stocked with game, and strictly preserved.
He kept also a kennel of greyhounds; but I never
heard of his seeing a course — that amusement was
left for those who had the care of them.

To this long list of expensive amusements must be
added others that were costly in the extreme ; and
not the least was his fondness for horse dealing or
coping. He would give for a hunter £200 or £300,
keep him for a year or two without riding him, and
then sell him back, with two or three more of the

396 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

same value, for about half the price he had given
for the one, if he had but a chopper thrown in ;
for which purpose the dealer, knowing his man,
generally had ' the very animal on the spot that
would suit him above all others.' He was also fond
of trotting and other ponies, and mostly had a
few kept in the stable to look at. For these he
would give large sums, and when tired of seeing
them, they would be got rid of in the same way
as his hunters, only to make room for fresh and
more useless creatures. It was with him an infatua-
tion ; and though he knew he lost by it, he could not
resist the temptation to dabble in these profitless
animals of whose value he knew nothing. Thus it
came about that in the same ratio that his expenses
increased, his income diminished ; and ultimately he
had to seek the indulgence of his creditors, ending
in everything that he had being sold. Happily for
his sake and for that of his family, they had separate
fortunes, and so escaped engulfment in the wreck
which his negligence and his eccentric, not to say
insensate, diversions brought about.

I have referred to the fact that his stud-groom was
paid a pound a week. He, Sturgeon by name, could
neither read nor write. An incident connected with
him will admirably show his master's eccentric way
of viewing practical matters. He lived in a house
neither commodious nor comfortable, had a wife and
ten children besides, whom by some mystery he

A FORTUNE OUT OF WAGES. 3g7

managed to send to school and bring- up on this
liberal pay of one pound a week, and out of it in
a very short time was able to save £300. This for
secrecy, safe keeping, and adding to his store a little
by way of interest, he placed in a bank in the town,
which very unfortunately for him suspended payment,
and he lost it. Mr. Simpson, seeing his name on the
list of creditors, condoled with him, and said he
should have placed the money with him, where it at
least would have been safe ; and offered to take charge
of any other little sum the groom might have over
and above his weekly requirements. This offer
Sturgeon readily accepted, and began again to build
up another little fortune, which he accomplished
speedily; but that also, like the first, was lost shortly
afterwards, and by a most singular coincidence exactly
the same amount, through Mr. Simpson's suspendin^-
payment. Of the truth of this romantic tale there
can be no doubt, as Sturgeon told it me himself, and
said it was ' a hard case for a labouring man to have
two such heavy losses in so short a time.' It would
be still more interesting to know exactly how he got
the money together.

I have not the least desire to be censorious, especially
as to the actions of a gentleman with whom I was on
friendly terms ; but I must confess that I sometimes
had my suspicions that Mr. Simpson's eccentricity at
times reached a point when he was inclined to regard
somewhat obliquely the rights of others. But as

398 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

these cases were connected with horse-dealing, in
which, as in love and war, some think that ' all is
fair,' too much should perhaps not be made of what
he did or attempted to do. For one thing, he several
times asked me if I really thought that a veterinary
surgeon could tell the age of a horse by the appearance
of its teeth; or in other words, could a two-year-old
be known from a three-year-old by the same means ?
To which, when I used to say ' Yes,' he would reply,
' I don't believe they can.' Of course there are
several methods taken to arrive at the different ages of
different animals at different periods of their life. I
accordingly reminded him of the story of a pro-
fessional man who said he could tell the age of any
number of horses by the never-failing teeth-test.

' Yes,' said an elderly lady present, ' and so can I
any quantity of chickens or geese by the same
means.'

' Why,' said the gentleman with astonishment,
' poultry have no teeth !'

' ISTo,' replied the lady, ' but I have.'

This did not seem thoroughly to convince him. I
gave the attempt up, thinking either that he must be
incorrigible or my story pointless.

I have named his stud-srroom Sturgeon. This
man could neither read nor write, to which qualifica-
tions, or the want of them, he was indebted for his
situation. Mr. Simpson himself kept the few books
that were kept, and no one but himself knew what

WHERE WAS 'DELILAH?'

399

was entered in them. I don't for one moment
suggest that anything improper was done ; but that
Mr. Simpson should take upon himself extra work of
the kind that properly should have fallen to the stud-
groom is curious. Of one thing, however, there can
be no doubt; and that is, that on the night before
his sale at Diss, he knowingly falsified the name of
one of his mares. I was staying at his house for the
sale, and in the evening told him I had come to buy
Delilah and Amaranth.

' They are not here,' Mr. Simpson said in reply.
' But they are close by, and you shall have them
another time.'

Thus the matter seemed at an end for the moment ;
but next morning, on looking round the mares before
the sale, I came to a black mare, on which Sturgeon,
who accompanied me, promptly said :

' I don't know how she's bred, but Mr. Simpson
can tell you. She's No. 44 on the catalogue.'

On looking at the document I saw that No. 44
was ' a black mare, pedigree unknown, covered by
Delight? I looked at her again for an instant, and
exclaimed :

' Why, it's Delilah /'

' Oh no, sir !' says Sturgeon. ' It's not her.'

' I'm quite positive she is,' I said ; and after a little
fencing Sturgeon confessed.

' I told Mr. Simpson, sir,' he said, ' that you would
be sure to know her.'

4oo ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

At the sale I stood by the side of Mr. W. Blenkiron.

' I have come to buy two mares.' says he, ' but I
don't see either of their names in the catalogue.'

' "What are they ?' I inquired.

' Amaranth and Delilah ,' was the reply.

The black mare was put up, and I bought her for
the large sum of ten guineas, and then told the
auctioneer that it was Delilah.

' I don't know anything of them,' he replied, after
looking at me. ' I took the description myself from
Mr. Simpson, and know the catalogue so far is
correct.'

I afterwards mentioned the matter to Mr. Simpson
himself. But he only laughed. This I took as a
tacit admission of the truth of the charge, for he
would no doubt have gladly denied it, had he been
able to do so.

When Sturgeon brought the animals that I had
purchased to Alvediston, he at my request made the
following declaration :

' I, J. Sturgeon, stud-groom to Mr. Simpson of

Diss, Norfolk, of the same place, make statement and

say that the mare sold at the Diss sale, as " pedigree

unknown," is Delilah, by Touchstone out of Plot, by

Pantaloon.

1 J. Sturgeon x his mark.

' Witness to the mark of J. Sturgeon :

(Signed) 'Henry Chandler

' (Head-lad to Mr. Wm. Day).

SOCIAL ATTRIBUTES. 401

This declaration I forwarded to Messrs. Weatherby,
and had the mare returned in my name in ' Studbook
No. 12,' p. 106. She foaled a colt, by Delight, in
1872, and was put to my own horse Camerino. 1
confess I am perplexed to say what was Mr. Simp-
son's design in the matter, or how he proposed to
reap any benefit from it ; and it is perhaps better to
ascribe the whole business to the perversity of an
aimless eccentricity.

I may say in conclusion that in his own house he
was extremely hospitable, always in good spirits and
full of humour. I can call to mind some pleasant
evenings spent at Diss with him and his family.

Shooting in Norfolk is proverbially good, and his
was no exception to the general rule. I shot with
him several years, mostly having excellent sports A
party of six guns, including his son and an old
gentleman, neither of them very expert in the use
of the deadly weapon, we bagged three hundred
pheasants, besides hares and rabbits and a woodcock
or two. I once killed on the farm which he kept in
hand for the use of his stud, twenty couple of wild
ducks, and left off at three o'clock in the afternoon,
not for the want of more to shoot at, but being satis-
fied with the number bagged.

He cared little for what he eat or drank, so that
the meats were overcooked in order to provide gravy
for the dumplings, which were delicious. He carved
his own joints; but even so, so rapidly did he eat

26

402 ZACHARIAH SIMPSON, ESQ.

that he invariably finished long before anyone else at
the table. Indeed, he is said to have died from eating
suddenly too hearty a meal — a more charitable and
more likely cause of death than that to which,
with little authority, his end has been by some
attributed.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

Trials at Woodyates and Shipton, and performances in the race-
of the following : Allbrook, Hobbie Noble, Weatherbound, Catch
'em Alive, Sultan, and Foxhall — Foxhall's wonderful victory —
Compared with Tristan and Iroquois — Need of a ' stayer ' in
the Cambridgeshire — Value of trials — Story of the fraud as to
weight in Catch 'em Alice's year — Jockeys in trials — Jockeys
and ' stable-boys ' in the saddle contrasted — Instances and
their teaching.

Few of my readers, I hope, and still fewer of those
who are interested in the turf, will grudge me a little
space to set down some account of trials which took
place at Woodyates and Shipton with several remark-
able horses. For I think the study of the results and
a comparison of them with those of other trials, the
details of which have alreadv been given, will be in-
teresting as showing that mostly the race has proved
the correctness of the trial, but yet that, however well,
in trying, you may put horses together, unexpected
difficulties will often arise and not unfrequently
frustrate the best laid plans. The trials which I
propose to consider with this end in view, are those

26—2

4o4 CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

of horses engaged for the Cambridgeshire Stakes in
six different }-ears ; and are the more important because
whilst in four instances the individual horse tried won,
in the other two our expectations of victory were
proved to have been held with at least fair warrant.

I will give them without respect to chronological
order. The first I shall take is the trial of Allbrook,
the only horse that was beat of the five that I trained
for the race. The following were the horses and
Aveights in the trial :

Allbrook, 5 yrs., 8 st. 7 lb. . . .1

' Our Mary Ann, 5 yrs., 6 st. 7 lb. . .2

C'edric the Saxon, 3 yrs., 6 st. 7 lb. .3

Ely Dorado, 4 yrs., 6 st. . . . .4

Distance 1 mile and 240 yards. Won by two lengths;
two lengths and six lengths separating the other two.
This would certainly make Allbrook 2 st. 3 or 4 lb.
better than Our Mary Ann, who had run third for
the Chester Cup that year, carrying 7 st. 5 lb., and
won it in 1870 ; and 3 st. better than Ely Dorado,
which horse we had borrowed of Mr. Cartwright to
try with, and won the Cambridgeshire Trial Plate
the day before the event with 7 st. 1 lb., beating
thirteen others. After this race it looked, in turf
parlance, a good thing for Allbrook, for it was like
putting Ely Dorado in as a four-year-old at 3 st. 9 lb.,
and Our Mary Ann as a five-year-old at 4 st, 4 lb.
And the race itself confirmed this estimate in every
particular ; for though our horse was beat a head by

'ALLBROOK' AND 'WEATHERBOUND.' 405

Sabinus, running a dead-heat with Sterling for the
second place, he ought to have won very easily,
having at least a stone in hand at the finish, but was
badly ridden.

Hobbie Noble s trial has been fully described in the
chapter headed 'A Trial for Mr. Merry.' I may say
briefly here that it made him 21 lb. better than Joe
Miller, a horse that had won that year the Chester
Cup and the Emperor's Yase at Ascot, beating all
the best horses of the day at weight for age. And
as this was equivalent to putting Joe Miller in the
Cambridgeshire at 6 st. 5 lb., nothing could be better
than Hobble Noble s chance on paper ; and indeed he
ought to have won, as I have shown, but, like
Allbrook, he got beat, just, as it were, to prove the
glorious uncertainties of racing. I have shown how
this disappointment came about, and it will be remem-
bered that I did not train this horse, but merely tried
him, and tried him satisfactorily, for the race.

Weatherbound 's trial was to all appearance, if any-
thing, better than the two just given. For she could
and did beat Didcibella at even weights, and Dulei-
bella had just won the Cesarewitch easier than it was
ever won before or has been since. Moreover she
showed she could give 2 st. to Sutherland, the winner
of the Royal Stakes, and second to Cape Flyaway for
the Doncaster Stakes, and beating St. Albans, the
winner of the St. Leger, at 10 lb. If the running of
the latter were correct, it would go to show that to

4o6 CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

have beat Weatherbound in the Cambridgeshire he
would have had to be put in at 5 st. But this, of
course, is absurd, and the fact accounted for, we must
suppose, in St. Albans being out of form on the Friday,
thus proving the correctness of Mr. Chifney's remark
that ' horses cannot be made to keep their form from
one day to another.' Still it was ' public running.'

In 1863 another of mine, Catch 'em Alive, won as
a four-year-old, carrying 7 st., and beating thirty-
two others. To the dispute as to his carrying the
proper weight and the fortunate termination of it, I
will refer later. I will only say that in his trial he
had shown himself as good as Johnny Armstrong at
even weights, and 2^ st. better than Muezzin. For
the purposes of. comparison we find Johnny Armstrong
on the same day, and in the race immediately pre-
ceding the Cambridgeshire, winning the Rowley Mile
Plate, beating Croagh Patrick, Caller On, and five
others. Caller Ou had that year wron seventeen races,
including the Northumberland Plate, carrying 8 st.
8 lb., beating fourteen others. Now this wras equiva-
lent to putting Caller Ou in the Cambridgeshire at
6 st. 10 lb., and Johnny Armstrong at 7 st. or there-
abouts, or with some 2 st. less on them than they
would have carried had they been entered. This
made Catch 'em Alices chance on paper a moral, if
not an actual certainty. Yet he, like Weatherbound,
only won by a head ; though like her from an ac-
countable reason — losing so much at the start, and

'SULTAN' AND < FOXHALL: 407

neither being able to catch the other horses until the
last few strides.

In 1855 Sultan, as a three-year-old, carrying 7 st.
t> lb., won the race very easily. He had been
tried with Nabob two and a quarter miles at 10 lb.
and beat him, and it was thought that the Cesarewitch
as well as the Cambridgeshire would fall to him.
But in the long race he appears, for some reason
or other, to have tired after passing the Bushes,
when he had the best of everything in the race, but
was soon after beat easily. This I could never under-
stand, for he had speed and was tried to stay.
He was backed for both races before the first was run,
but being beat in the Cesarewitch, was driven to
extreme odds in the other. To show that the
Cesarewitch was wrong, I mav mention that in it
Crown Pigeon beat him at 2 st. at least one hundred
yards; and in the Cambridgeshire, at 1 lb. less,
Sultan beat his former victor as far. This I think
requires no further demonstration.

The last of the giants comes Fo.vhall, who, as
a three-year-old, won the race in 1881, with the
crushing impost of \) st., the heaviest weight that
was ever carried to victory in it by an}' three-
year-old mare or gelding. Foxhall was only tried
once whilst I had him, when he showed himself a
really good horse, giving Don Fulano 7 lb. and two
others a lot more weight, and beating them all a mile
and a quarter with the greatest ease — Don Fulano by

4o8 CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

two lengths, and the rest by two hundred yards.
Mr. Bathgate, Mr. Keene's representative, and myself
thought, from this, that he would win the Grand
Duke Michael Stakes, the race for which he was
specially tried. In it, as it turned out, Foxhall gave
Don Fulano 7 lb., and apparently a 21 lb. beating;
and the latter looked a stone better than Ishmael,
who was thought, from his running second to Scobell
in the Great Foal Stakes on the Tuesday before,
beating Cameliard, Thebais and Bal Gal, to be almost
certain to wdn ; though the French division thought
3Iaskelyne, who was said to be much improved,
would beat them both. FoxhalVs hollow victory
here made him look like winning the Cesarewitch,
which he did; and the wray in which he in this race
beat Chippendale and others, made me think well of
his chance for the Cambridgeshire.

In the latter race he met the very best field that
ever ran for it or any other handicap. To show this, I
need only remark that he gave Lucy Glitters (who had
just run third in the St. Leger, being only beat a
length and three-quarters from Iroquois) 2^ st.,
Tristan 19 lb., Come Boy 37 lb. : these the next
vear were about the two best four-year-olds in
England. Moreover he gave Wall e?istei?i and Pirmis,
two fairly good four-year-olds, 29 and 35 lb. respec-
tively ; and Etona II. 44 lb., a horse that had won a
Welter Handicap with 9 st. 4 lb. on him, and having
winners of several races behind him. Besides, in

'FOXHALL' A WONDER. 409

the thirty-one horses that ran in the Cambridgeshire
that year, were Bend Or (winner of the Derby in
1880), Peter, Petro?iell, Seobell, and many ocher of our
fastest horses. Foxhall evidently was thus 1G or
18 lb. better than Iroquois, winner of that year's
Derby and St. Leger. For Bend Or in the
Cambridgeshire gave Foxhall 8 lb. for the year,
and received more than that beating ; and to Seobell,
Foxhall gave 15 lb. and 5 or 7 lb. beating. Bend Or
gave Iroquois 14 lb. in the Champion Stakes, and
Seobell met him at even weights, and both defeated
him easily.

I have said nothing about Tristans performance on
this occasion; but I may refer to it, for many people
have said that he was unlucky in being beat, and that
Foxhall was fortunate in winning. But this opinion
is entirely fallacious. To see this we have only
to look at Tristan s running with Seobell when the
latter beat him at even weights easily ; and as I
have before shown that Foxhall was at least 19
to 20 lb. better than Seobell, it follows that he must
have been that much better than Tristan, and therefore
that the best horse won, and without the assistance
of luck, which at times is very useful and welcome to
us all when it comes.

It has always been my contention, that to win a
Cambridgeshire you must have an animal that can
stay, and well too; though this is just the contrary to
the generally received opinion. The ' old school ' used

4i o CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

to back the horses that in the Cesarewitch were lead-
ing through the Ditch-gap, which is about the same
distance as the Cambridgeshire. But later experience
shows pretty clearly the fallacy of such an opinion;
for now the winner of the last great handicap of the
year is usually found amongst those horses that are
well up at the Bushes, if he is not actually the winner
of the preceding race — as in the case of Rosebery and
Foxhall, and with Plaisanterie last year; and a little
reflection will show why this is so. The first race is
run over, perhaps, the easiest two-mile-and-a-quarter
course in England. For, after starting, the horses
have but one little incline to ascend until they come
to ' Choke Jade ' before passing the Ditch, and the
rest of the way is downhill, except -at the rise out of
the Abingdon Mile Bottom to the finish. But with
the Cambridgeshire it is very different, it being run
over the most severe course — one mile and a distance
— in this country ; and taking place as it always does
later in the autumn, when it is wet and heavy going,
and with a lot of little boys as riders, which makes it
additionally difficult to 'get over,' as from the severity
of the pace one-half of them are hopelessly beaten
before two-thirds of the race have been run. Hobbie
X i>t Ac and Allbrook were not good stayers, and, though
much the best horses on the day through the mud,
and badly ridden as they were, lost the race from the
lack of staying qualities. Mary lost it in Sultans
year from the same cause, or from not being properly

NEED OF <A STAYER.' 411

trained; whereas Catch 'cm, Alive and Weatherbound
Avon it entirely from sheer gameness, both being
apparently quite beat past hope half a mile from
home. Again, Foxhall struggled for victory as for
life with the most indomitable pluck until the goal
was reached, receiving an ovation, of which the
American nation may well be proud, in recognition
of his unsurpassed 'gameness.'

I think I have said sufficient to show that vou
must have a stayer if you want successfully to com-
pete in a race so difficult to win as the Cambridge-
shire is. And, moreover, to prove the result of the
respective trials as shown — all the six horses had a
most excellent chance for the race on the six different
occasions in which they took part in it; for four of
them won it, and the other two were only just beat,
and then through circumstances which, in a sense,
were accidental. The evidence leathered from the
facts before us goes largely to supplement what I
have insisted upon in my previous work — the reliance
to be placed upon trials when properly conducted.

I now propose to give a detailed account of what
took place in the Cambridgeshire Stakes when Catch
' 'em Alive won ; as we all know that, after winning, he
was objected to for not carrying, as was alleged, his
proper weight. I suppose the excitement caused
over this race was never equalled over any other that
took place at Newmarket — certainly not over any
that I can remember. To show how madly some of

4i2 CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

the partisans of Merry Hart acted, it will only be
necessary to say that when Adams left the scales
without drawing; the weight, one of them rushed
furiously over to the ring and laid £1,000 to £10 on
Merry Hart getting the stakes. But others, better in-
formed, advocated the claim of the winner. In the inter-
val between the race and the decision, a few days after,
a good deal of betting took place. Sir Joseph Hawley
bore up with unabated zeal till the last in support of
Merry Hart conjointly with his noble owner; whilst
I believe the Admiral thought from the first that, in
justice, the winner was entitled to the race. There
was no doubt that the decision Avas, as considered at
the time, a fair one. In fact, it could not be viewed
in any other light.

Existing accounts of this curious affair, though ac-
curate enough, are hardly so complete as the interest
attaching to it can fairly claim that they should be. I
will, therefore, venture to give my version of it.

The scandal arose from the fact that some one had
fixed some lead under one of the scales — for there were
two scales, one at the lower, and one at the top, stand.
It was pretty well known at the time, and is now, who
the offender was. A light-weight jockey who rode in
the race had wasted very hard, in the hope that he would
reduce himself to the exact weight. Unfortunately,
on scaling privately early in the morning, he found
himself 2 lb. over the weight he had to ride, and
fearing, I imagine, that he might be taken off, he

'THE WEIGHTED SCALES.' 4r3

kept the secret to himself. Before the jockeys were
weighed out for the race, he went to the clerk of the
scales, the late Mr. Manning, then engaged at the
lower stand weighing jocke}^ for some other race,
and said :

' I have left my light saddle in the top stand ;
please let me have the key to get it, as I have to ride
in the next race.'

As there was nothing unusual in the request, the
key was handed to him, and the opportunity thus
afforded him of fixing, unobserved, the lead to the
bottom of the scales without exciting suspicion, as
he soon returned and gave the key back to its proper
custodian. Clearly to understand the circumstances,
I should state that though the jockej^s were allowed
to ' weigh out ' before the race at either of the scales,
they could only ' weigh in ' after the race at the top
stand. The jockey knew that if he carried more
than 2 lb. overweight without declaring it, he would,
if he won, be disqualified, and that by the plan he
adopted he was quite certain to be the right weight.
But I suppose it never occurred to his imaginative
mind that others carrying the right weight being
weighed at the lower stand, would prove that he
carried the wrong weight when weighing in at the
top stand. If he had thought of this, and had had
the opportunity of making both scales alike, he
would have escaped detection ; for in that case all
the horses would have simply carried 2 lb. over the

4i4 CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALb.

weight assigned them. There is no doubt that
several jockeys did weigh out at the top stand, and
without knowing it rode 2 lb. overweight ; and if
one of them had won, and the fact of carrying this
overweight had been discovered, he would have been
disqualified. The culprit, when his turn came, of
course passed satisfactorily, having weighed out and
in at the top stand. But Sam Adams, the rider of
Catch 'em Alive, one of those who had ' weighed out '
at the lower stand, was the first to try the scales in
' weighing in ' at the top stand, and he could not
draw the weight.

Admiral Rous was sent for by the clerk, and after
many ineffectual attempts to draw the weight, Adams
was told to leave the scales — on the face of it a
virtual disqualification. Then James Grimshaw, the
rider of Summerside, the third horse, tried and failed
to draw his weight, though he protested that he
drew it very well at the lower stand. I told the
Admiral that I was sure Adams weighed the proper
weight 'out.' Of this I was positive ; for he rode in
an exercise saddle without any saddle-cloth, and so
could neither from design nor accident have lost any
weight, as I saddled and unsaddled the horse myself,
and I asked that he might be allowed to weigh there
again. But the Admiral would not permit it.

' No,' he said ; ' though for convenience' sake there
are two places to weigh out at, there is but one that
you can weigh in at after the race.'

THE FRAUD DETECTED. 4,5

Feeling1 certain there was a mistake, I at once,
without asking permission, took the weights out
of the scale to see if they balanced, and finding*
they did not, called the Admiral's attention to the
fact.

■ Here is the mistake, sir,' I said, and first put on
1 lb., which did not turn the beam, and then another
1 lb., which just balanced it, the Admiral and Lord
"Westmorland, the one coolly and the other anxiously,
looking on all the time. I then turned up the scale,
and discovered and pointed out the three pieces of
lead fixed to the bottom. They were at once
removed, the clerk affirming that - they were not
there this morning ;' and the scales then balanced to
a nicety.

I have always thought it was a great mistake on
the part of the Admiral, when the fraud was dis-
covered, not to have required the riders of the first
three horses to get into the properly adjusted scales,
to see if they could draw their respective weights, and
not more than 2 lb. over. Had he done so, the diffi-
culty would have been settled on the spot, and the
result have been in the detection of the jockey who
had tampered with the scales, and the disqualification
of his horse. I believe only three jockeys weighed
in ; one did and two did not draw the weight. This
is an impartial and correct account of what took place
on the occasion.

I think I shall not be committing a breach of faith

4i6 CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

if I say the winner, though running1 in my name,
was the property of Mr. Gerard Sturt (now Lord
Alington), who had but a few days before the race
purchased Sir William Codrington's interest in him.
Mr. Sturt was not at the meeting, and I represented
his interest in the affair, and, I hope, to his satisfac-
tion ; for on the happy termination of the case he
very kindly gave me an excellent gold watch and
chain, in token of his esteem, with an appropriate
inscription, a gift which I accepted with thanks and
greatly value to this day.

As in this chapter my reminiscences have taken
the form of recording my experiences in the technical
matter of trials, I may, perhaps, be forgiven if I am
induced to say a word on another subject, intimately
connected with my profession, which has often given
me food for rumination. I have previously con-
demned, with all the severity at my command, the
evil practice of employing light-weight boys, not only
utterly incompetent, but also physically incapacitated,
and calling them 'jockeys.' But I would here say a
word of deserved praise of experienced men, who,
under the name of ' stable boys ' or ' lads,' often do
good service in the saddle. I do not use the term in
any way in a disparaging sense, or to give offence to
eminent jockeys, who, to their credit, have once been
' stable-boys,' and have risen to their present rank ;
but using the term to distinguish between the
experienced horsemen who do stable-duties, and the

JOCKEYS IN TRIALS. 4i7

crack riders of the day. I think a word may in fair-
ness be said for and against both.

It may be bold to say so, but I believe I am
correct in my view, that jockeys are more often than
not the cause of the mistakes that are made in trials.
Ludicrous as it may appear, it is a fact that many of
them try to add to their reputation hy winning trials !
To do so, they will sacrifice everything ; will take
advantage, if possible, of the boys that ride with
them ; and even jealously try to outride each other,
thus making the trial a farce. In this and other
respects stable-boys have an advantage. They are
usually on horses they are accustomed to, thoroughly
know the course, and are always sure to make a good
pace ; which cannot be said for all jockeys, if left to
themselves. And for these reasons, I may confi-
dently say more mistakes are made in trials by
jockeys than by stable-boys.

As to the race itself, if stable-boys can and do ride
trials to the trainer's satisfaction, what reason can be
assigned for their not riding in races equally well ?
It is a singular fact that boys were employed in
riding all the six trials before mentioned, and that
three out of the four winners were ridden by stable-
lads, and only one out of the other three horses won
in the hands of a jockey. What did the following
stable-boys do — for Maidment and J. Parsons at the
time could scarcely be called by any other name,
having only shortly before left my stables ? The

■27

4i S CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

former won the Derby on Cremorne, and again on
Kisber, besides the Ascot Cup, the Oaks, One
Thousand, and many other good races ; and J.
Parsons won the Derby on anything but a first-
class horse, Caractacus, having ridden in public
a few times before, beating The Marquis with Ashmall
up, and thirty-two other jockeys, the most fashionable
of the day, on many good horses. If crack jockeys are.
as is supposed, so infinitely superior to stable-boys,
why on these occasions, and many others, did they
not show it by winning ? or wherein consists their
overwhelming talent ? Some of the closest and best
ridden races that I remember to have seen, have been
ridden by stable-boys. S. Adams, for instance, Avon
the Cambridgeshire by a head on Catch 'em Alive,
beating thirty-nine others ; and again won it on
Lozenge, after running a dead-heat with Wolsey. He
also won the Metropolitan on Joco by a head, when
the next three were so close together that the judge
could not separate them. Did not J. Adams ride
Elcho also in the Metropolitan with the consummate
skill of an artist when he defeated Caractacus by a
head, and Asteroid a neck, ridden by that accom-
plished jockey, Wells, then in his prime ? Or who
ever rode a better race than he did on Weatherbound
for the Cambridgeshire, when in the last stride he
won by a head ? I have seen many other stable-
boys ride equally well, and could refer to hundreds of
such instances ; but shall only allude to one more in

STABLE-BOYS IN THE SADDLE. 419

a rather remarkable race. This took place at
Brighton, when E. Bird, who had never ridden in
public before, although he had occasionally ridden in
my trials, was up on the worst favourite out of
fourteen runners, and after an exciting and most
interesting finish, won bv a head, beating one of

O %J ' CD

the most accomplished jockeys of the day in a very
masterly style — a performance the excellence of
which Avas this once, for a wonder, recognised by the
public !

To say that races are not sometimes lost by over-
anxiety on the part of the lad to 'get home,' would
be an extravagant assertion ; yet in candour their
best friends will, I am sure, readily admit that, on
scientific principles, jockeys often lose races by lying
' out of their ground ' in the early part, or by coming
at a critical instant just too late at the finish, after a
wonderful display of horsemanship. The effect is
powerfully thrilling and most admirable, but still
unsatisfactory to all but themselves and the mob. I
do not say for a moment that jockeys do not ride
good races also, and many of them — just as, viewing
the matter as I do, I do not believe for a moment
that it is any reflection on their ability to be on
occasion beaten by the others, who are, as I have
said, experienced riders. Still there is the fact that
they are often so beaten by stable-boys, and I draw
attention to it. And I think it will be conceded that
jockeys are not always infallible, or make the most of

27—2

42o CAMBRIDGESHIRE TRIALS.

their horses by superior jockey ship, or stable-boys
always to be condemned for want of skill when they
lose against more fashionable men : but that both at
times ride well, and both at times ride badly.

In conclusion, I may point to the fact that Hermit,
Cossack, and Cotherstone were all beat as two-year-
olds with first-class men up. The last of the three
Avas not placed in the Criterion, but the next year,
18-13, won the Derby, and ran second to Nutwith in
the St. Leger, making about 3 st. improvement on
his two-year-old form. Cossack was beat as a two-
year-old, and yet the next year, 1817, Avon the Derby,
and ran second to Van Tromp for the St. Leger.
Hermit, who was beat at Newmarket and Epsom as a
two-year-old, won the Derby in 1867, and ran second
to Achievement for the St. Leger. It will be noticed,
as a coincidence, that all these three good horses and
Derby winners ran second in the St. Leger, and lost
the first race for which they started. After such in-
and-out running in the hands of eminent jockeys, and
the accurate results, such as those which I have
described, obtained with stable-boys up, who shall
confidently say that the one class of rider is more to
be relied upon than the other ?

CHAPTER XXIV.

' PROMISED LAND ' AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

Happy Land — Purchase of Promised Land and joint ownership
with Mr. Robinson — How entered— Initial disappointment —
Improvement— Backed for the Derby — Beats and is beat by
North Lincoln— -Two Thousand trial and race — Receives forfeit
from Musjid — How I lost the Derby— The candid friend again
— My ' emaciated ' condition — Home Tooke and ' Old Smith's
bullocks ' — Incidents in the Derby — My confidence unabated —
A stereotyped answer — AVins the Goodwood Cup — Beat in the
St. Leger.

Despised DulcibeUa — Trial of KUligrew— Helping a friend —
DukibelkCs trials — Mr. Copperthwaite's belief in Beck — Public
view of Sutherland's chance — The Cesarewitch — My dun pony
second — Killigrew's running — A grateful jockey — Dulcibellas
subsequent doings.

I have mentioned how I disposed of Promised Land

to Lord William Powlett, and received DulcibeUa in
part payment, or as I regard it, as being- ' thrown
in ' in the deal. I may now relate how I became
possessed of the former, or rather of my share in him,
and something of the performance of both horses
whilst under my care. I owned both of them jointly
with ' my friend Mr. Thomas Robinson, of High
Wycombe, Bucks, whose house I used often to visit

422 'PROMISED LAND' AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

to look over his stud as well as enjoy his society. I
had bought of him as a yearling Glee Singer, by
Pyrrltus the First out of Glee, and he had won a race
or two for me, or I should say for Lord Ribblesdale, to
whom I sold him. The following year I bought his
half-brother, afterwards well named Happy Land, by
Jericho out of Glee, for £300, which I also sold to
Lord Ribblesdale, after he had been tried, for £1,000
and half of his winnings ; and he won for his lord-
ship at Salisbury the two best two-year-old stakes the
following week, and so re-couped him the outlay for
the purchase in bets alone on that occasion. He won
many other races, and finished the year by carrying
off the Criterion, beating nineteen others, the largest
field I ever saw run for it, being the only one
penalized for former victories. In short, he won as
a two and three-year-old, in stakes alone, £2,585.

Before this I had not been able to resist the tempta-
tion to go and see his own brother, notwithstanding
that the prohibitory price of £1,000 was asked for
him. On reaching Mr. Robinson's, after a hearty
luncheon we went to see the horse, Promised Land, as
he was afterwards called, and I thought him the best
yearling I ever saw, except Grosvenor and Surplice.
I offered Mr. Robinson £700 for him, then and there.

' I would rather,' he replied, ' you should take him
home and train him for me than I would take one
shilling less than my price.'

I told him his faults, in my opinion ; which were

ENTRIES OF 'PROMISED LAND.' 423

that he turned his toes out and was narrow in his
hips, and I thought £700 a lot of money for one
shaped as he was. However, on my offering him
£500 for the half of him we clinched the bargain —
and a good one, as it afterwards turned out, for us
both. I was to have the whole management of him,
as usual. Being such a good-looking horse and so
well bred, I engaged him rather heavily, putting him,
as a two-year-old, in the New Stakes at Ascot, Findon
at Goodwood, and the Criterion Stakes ; and in the
following year in the Two Thousand and the Derby,
and at Goodwood, and in the St. Leger, and the
Grand Duke Michael Stakes ; and the next year in
the Claret Stakes of 200 sovs. each. He passed
the winter well, and when Mr. Robinson came to see
him in the spring he thought he had grown and
improved. Soon after I tried him, when, as I thought,
he was fit, at 14 lb. with Happy Land. It was a
high trial ; but from what I had seen of his going at
exercise I thought he would win. Bevis and Ninirod
were in at a stone under him. The result was Happy
Land won easily, the other three close together,
Promised Land being just second-best. This greatly
astonished and disappointed me ; but I would always
rather know the worst of things than flatter myself
into thinking that a horse is better than in reality
he is. I don't think that that day he would
have beat Happy Land, T.Y.C., at 2 St., and I
gave up all hopes of his ever^doing very much good.

424 'PROMISED LAND' AND < DULCIBELLA.'

Still, in the common course of things, he was kept
well to work with the rest of the horses, and galloped
most days ; until later on, when I was again struck
with the manner of his going, and thought, ' Surely
this horse is improved ;' and though it was but a
gallop, I could not help thinking of it for days after.
However, time wore on, and I purposely gave him
another good gallop with horses in form, and those
that I thought would not deceive me. In the result
I found that I had a good horse, and that what I had
seen before in his early gallops was correct. A few
davs after I tried him over again at a stone with
Happy Land, and he {Promised Land) won by a neck,
Nirrirod third, two lengths off at 18 lb. under him, and
Levis at 21 lb. half a length from Nimrod. three-
quarters of a mile.

Feeling sure that Promised Land 'had speed as well as
endurance, I sent and backed him for the Derby at once,
before he ran in the New Stakes at Ascot, where I in-
tended him to make his first appearance in public. But
on his journey there, he met with an accident and hurt
his hock ; and though it was not to all appearance of
much consequence, I would not run him, but kept
him for Goodwood. Here in the Findon Stakes he
met the best two-year-old in England at 5 lb., and
but for Wells, his jockey, making too sure of his win-
ning, my horse would have been beat. The race
itself and the result is soon told. North Lincoln took
a decided lead immediately after starting, and Wells

THE TWO THOUSAND. 425

looked round to the other jockeys and said, ' Good-
bye,' and increased his lead many lengths more, till
Hearing the distance, when Promised Land, who had
been lying second all the way, began to creep up,
passed him at the stand, and won cleverly, the rest
all being beat a long way. It was a heavy betting
race, as North Lincoln had won all his races before
with the greatest ease, and I did not think any-
thing could beat mine ; so we won a good stake, and
also had backed him heavily for the Derby at long
odds. He had only one more engagement that year
in the Criterion, when the two met again at even
weights; and AVells, this time riding a waiting race,
just won, The Land being second. I may here point
to a rather curious coincidence. The two horses met
but twice as two-year-olds, and each beat the other;
and again as three-year-olds the}7 met the same
number of times with a like result.

North Lincoln was not in the Derby, for which race
and the Two Thousand Promised Land became a
strong winter favourite. He did well through the
winter, and in the following spring was tried a mile
as follows :

Promised Land, 3 yrs., 8st. 7 lb. . .1
Schism, 3 yrs., 7 st. 12 lb. . . .2
Nimrod, 3 yrs., 7 st. 3 lb. . . .3
Bevis, 3 yrs., 6 st. 7 lb 4

All stable-lads riding; won by a length cleverly, two
lengths and a neck separating the others. As Bevis

426 'PROMISED LAND' AND < DULCIBELLA.'

had just won the Northamptonshire Stakes, and
Sell ism soon after won the Longleat Stakes at Salis-
bury by five lengths, and Nimrod the Biennial at
York, it will be seen that, at the time, all the three
trial horses were in good form. As to the Two
Thousand itself, as is well known, Promised Land
won it in a canter; although the horses he met were
a very moderate lot, Cynricus being second. I may
mention here, as it is perhaps not generally known,
that the largest winner on the event was Sir Robert
Peel ; and it was said, at the time, that he very gener-
ously rewarded the man who held his horse for him
for a few minutes, whilst he went in to see the winner,
with a five-pound note.

It was at this meeting that Sir Joseph Hawley,
being anxious to match Musjid against Promised
Paul, proposed a match a mile and a half for £5,000
a side, all the money. To this I would not agree ;
but I said I would run him for £2,000 a side, £500
forfeit, the two middle miles in the October Meeting,
and on these terms the match was made. Just before
the time arrived for running, Sir Joseph came to me
and wished to compromise the matter and have the
match declared ' off.' But I said:

' jSTo, sir; my horse is very well, and I mean to run
or receive the forfeit.'

On which he paid me. I may add that this is the
only match I ever made ; it being always my opinion
that match-making is a mistake, and that it is very

HOW THE DERBY WAS LOST. 427

much better to ran for more of other people's money
and less of your own.

So much for the Two Thousand. As for the race
for the Derby, of whicli so much was said at the time,
and not all truthfully, I have a little to tell. My
brother Alfred was engaged to ride Trumpeter, and as
I could not get anyone else that I cared about, I was
obliged to ride Promised Land myself. And I say
now, as I said then and have said ever since, that it
was I that lost the Derby, and not the horse that did
so. Nor is it any satisfaction to me that this great
opportunity came to me, and was let pass by against
my better judgment. Had I ridden the horse as I
knew at the time he ought to have been ridden, I
should, I believe, have scored the victory. But I
was overruled, as people often are, by the opinions of
others — opinions, no doubt, worthy of great considera-
tion, being those, in my case, of my father and my
brother John. The latter said : ' No horse could
make running up the hill and win, and your horse
must have good speed or he would not have won the
Two Thousand so easily.' My father generally con-
curred in this, saying, ' that if Nimrod made a good
pace up the hill and mine took it on from there, he
will win.' My own idea had been to let Promised
Land make the pace for himself from the start, and
do the work to the finish ; and I am perfectly certain
that it was his not doing so that lost him the race,
and nothing else. Nimrod was 18 lb. worse than the

428 'PROMISED LAND' AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

one he was started to make the running for, and, of
course, could not go fast enough to make the pace
good enough for him, or indeed for many others in it;
and the race Avas virtually run but a mile after 1 took
up the running, and kept the lead till near the winning-
post, when the other, which had always been going-
faster than mine, came and just beat me for speed.

Of course, many reasons were forthcoming to show
why Promised Land did not win. One very cogent
and widely accepted, because so plausible and fair a
one, was that I should have won less by my horse's
winning the race than I did through his losing it.
The foundation for this was as truthful as in the case
of most similar assertions; inasmuch as I stood to win
£22,000 if he had won, and by the actual result of
the race I lost £100. Another grand theory was that
I had ridden him to death, and taken too wide a sweep
at the turn ; whilst others declared I had not made
use enough of him in the early part of the race. I
had to, and did, reduce myself very much to get to the
weight; and lots of people thought I was too weak to
assist the horse, or scarcely even to sit on him, and
that nothing but that beat him.

I have already had to relate how a stranger on one
occasion took upon himself to explain to the company
in a railway carriage how a certain jockey — who hap-
pened to be one of those present, but of course un-
known to him — had fallen, or nearly fallen, off his
horse in the principal race of the day at the meeting

AN 'EMACIATED' JOCKEY. 429

from which the party was returning; and how lie had
neatly turned the matter off by saying he had not
seen that race himself, but had only heard of the
incident from some one else, and that ' it showed how
recklessly people will talk.' I had a very similar
experience myself on this occasion. A few days after
the race, I was standing on the platform at the
Basingstoke Station, by the side of the late Mr. Henry
Figes, when a gentlemanly-looking man came up to
him and said :

' Well, I suppose you saw the Derby ?'
' Yes,' was the reply.

' The jockey who rode Promised Land] continued
the other, ' lost the race. He could not sit on his
horse, poor fellow, from wasting so hard. He had to
be carried from off his horse into the weighing-room
to the scales.'

On being told that I was the attenuated horseman
in question, he too, in his turn, was ready with his
excuse. For in this case again, he said 'he had only
heard so, and really knew nothing of the matter,
beins: no racing-man himself.'

This incident, like the other, not only shows how tales
get abroad, but points the moral that no one should
speak disrespectfully of another unless he knows the
company he is in, or at least is sure of the absolute
exactness of the facts he puts forward. I am re-
minded by it of an old but, I believe, a true story
of a certain adventure which happened to Home

43Q 'PROMISED LAND' AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

Tooke. When on his way from Devonshire to
London on an electioneering expedition he was
riding in the inside of the mail with three other pas-
sengers, apparently strangers. One of them presently
accosted one of the others in these words :

' Do you happen to know Home Tooke?

' No,' said the other.

' I am glad to hear it,' he said, pursuing the
thread of his discourse; ' for he is one of the greatest
scoundrels alive. There is nothing he will not do to
carry his point.'

At this moment the coach drew up at a wayside
inn to chano-e horses, and Home Tooke seized the
opportunity to get out and ask the guard if he could
tell him who the person who had thus freely maligned
him might be.

' Tell me,' he said, ' do you know who that old fat
man is sitting opposite me facing the horses ?'

'Oh yes, sir,' was the reply; 'it's old Smith, the
lawyer of Exeter, avIio is going up to London to vote
against Home Tooke.'

1 Oh, indeed ; thanks, guard — thanks.'

After taking his seat, and the journey was resumed,
Home Tooke immediately addressed the gentleman
to whom Smith had been speaking, and said :

' Do you happen to know, sir, a person by the
name of Smith, a pettifogging lawyer, who hails
from Exeter ? He is a fat, low-bred looking fellow,
and an awful scoundrel !'

'OLD SMITH'S BULLOCKS: 431

At this Smith's temper was uncontrollable, and he
replied in a sweltering rage :

' I am Smith !'

' And I,' said the other, ' am Home Tooke !'

Strange to say, they afterwards became friendly,
and it is said that Smith voted for instead of against
the other.

There is at present a family living in Devonshire,
which I have very little doubt are descendants of this
very Smith, because they are noted for their swagger
and ability to steer clear of the truth in what they
affirm ; insomuch so that it is of a certain member of
this family that it has been so neatly observed that
he ' was never known to speak the truth except once
by accident.' One of them — a man I knew well —
was a butcher not far from Exeter, if he did not once
keep a shop in that city. For many years his bullocks
were always better than those of the preceding season,,
and naturally, in the course of time, they attained a
very high state of perfection indeed ; until at last it
passed into a proverb, and when anyone told a
thumper more palpably outrageous than usual, it was
sufficiently understood when it was said, ' That's like
old Smith's bullocks.' I should add that afterwards
the butcher turned his attention to horses, which in
his hands (and mouth) became equally noted as
being of the same wonderful improving character ;
like the monster elephant that the showman assures
his audience grows half an inch a day; and never

432 'PROMISED LAND' AND < DULCIBELLA.'

attains his full height, and that there are not weights
enough or scales sufficiently large to ascertain his
stupendous weight, which is thought to be little less
than that of the whole earth itself. Yet it is hoped
that the Automaton Weighing Machine, lately in the
International Inventions Exhibition at South Ken-
sington, Avill soon be able to solve the difficulty.

But I must not stray into the paths of fiction. To
return to my subject — the question of my condition
when riding the Derby — I may say that in spite of
the alleged want of strength either to guide or ride
the horse, I was well enough to ride Schism in the
Oaks two days afterwards, and at the same weight ;
but as she was not a favourite, and no one lost their
money over her, nothing was particularly noticed of
my extreme weakness on that occasion. The race for
the Derby is one that will long be remembered, the
following beino- the order at the finish :

Mmjid .
Marionette

(Wells)
. (S. Rogers)

1
2

Trumpeter
Promised Land

. (A. Day)
. . (W.Day)

3

4

won by half a length, a neck between the other two.
On returning from the paddocks to weigh in, the boy
who had to look after my horse assured me that I
had won, as my number was up. The number was
up, but as I knew I had not won, I felt no dis-
appointment when it was taken down. The race was
also curious for the fact that three brothers had the

INCIDENTS IN THE DERBY. 433

second, third, and fourth in it, and that two of them
rode horses that were placed. Moreover, in it, two
horses, Marionette and Ticket of Leave, ran in the
same colours— black, white sleeves and cap — which
was the cause of the latter being placed second T
whereas he was really last. It was Marionette that ran
into the second place, where the stewards placed him
after hearing* the evidence of the judge, who us it
turned out had really made no mistake, having placed
the right colour, though it happened to be on the
wrong horse. I should add that my brother Alfred
on returning home received notice that unless he at
once got rid of all interest he might have in Marionette,.
he would not be allowed to ride : and he forthwith
disposed of his share in the horse to his partner, Mr.
Johnstone. I mention this just to show the different
way of speaking to jockeys then and now; though I
have nothing to say against so authoritative an edict.
On the contrary, I think that if it were oftener put in
force with jockeys who in our day hold the position
that he did in his, good results would follow.

In spite of his defeat in the Derby, so confident
was I that nothing could beat my horse a distance
of ground, that I sent word to Alfred to say I
wished him to ride him in the Goodwood Cap as
light as he could, which I knew would 'be 8 st., or
7 lb. extra. This I did not mind, as he would win
easily enough with that weight, and as I said, ' You
will certainly ride him ."> lb. better than a boy, and

28 "

434 'PROMISED LAND' AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

virtually we shall only be giving 2 lb. away.' But
he replied, 'No; if you get beat, your friends and
everyone will blame you for putting me up.' Under
these circumstances I had to trust the horse to the
hands of a boy — little Bray — who, as it turned out,
rode him to orders; which Alfred, or indeed any other
first-class jockey, may not have as faithfully carried
out, thinking it injudicious to have done so with the
extra weight. I was very confident, as I have stated,
and I said to my father and my brother John :

' We all lost on him at Epsom. Now let us get it
back here.'

But John would not back him.
' He could not stay a mile and a half in the Derby,'
he argued, 'and how can he be made to stay two
miles and a half here ?'

' It's the only thing he can do in this,' I replied ; but
repeating what I had often said before. However, he
would not be convinced, and was the only one of the
Day family who did not win a good stake on the
event.

On the day of the race, just before the start, Mr.
K. Ten Broeck, the American sportsman, came up
to me and said :

' Your horse will win, Mr. Day, if he can stay the
course.'

' It's the only thing he can do,' was my now
stereotyped reply.

' Well,' he rejoined, ' we shall see. I am going to

WINNING THE GOODWOOD CUP. 435

make running with Woodburn for Prioress as well as
he can go, all the way.'

' Yes,' I said ; ' and so am I with Schism ; so there
will be no doubt about the pace.'

Immediately after, Mr. George Payne, who had backed
Promised Land for a large stake, came up and said :

' Well, AVilliam, do you think you will win?'

1 Yes, sir,' I said, ' as he stays so well, and as he
will go as well as he can go all the way.'

Air. Payne laughed approvingly as he answered :

' "Well, William, you are a bold man.' Mr. Robin-
son, my partner, who came up at the moment, said
in his hearty way that he thought so too.

It was one of the best run races I think I ever
remember to have seen. Woodburn was to have
made running for Prioress, but could not go fast
enough, and Schism did it for Promised Land; and
when she was tired a mile from home, he took the
lead, coining up the hill nearly a hundred yards first,
and cantered in an easy winner by six lengths, which
might have been increased to sixty, or even double or
treble that number ; Newcastle second, and Prioress a
bad third. Here he {Promised Land) beat Marionette,
who beat him before at Epsom, and everything else
in the race, eleven in all, a mile from home ; which
is an additional and overwhelming proof that he
would have won the Derby had it only been a good
pace instead of a bad one.

As for the trophy which Mr. Robinson and I thus

28—2

436 'PROMISED LAND' AND ^DULCIBELLA:

jointly won, I may mention that Lord Lonsdale had
allowed Mr. Robinson to send his mares to Jericho,
not only free of cost, but without charging- him
anything for their keep. And when Promised Land,
whose sire was Jericho, won the Goodwood Cup, my
partner gave me £150 for my share of the trophy,
and gracefully presented it to his lordship ; and it
was, I believe, added to the heirlooms at Lowther
Castle, and is now in the possession of the present
Earl. I record the event as reflecting credit on two
generous spirits.

The next event was, of course, the St. Leger.
The horse did very well between Goodwood and
Doncaster, but he ran untried — a bad practice. I
had no bets either on or against him until he was
saddled on the morning of the race ; and then, solely
at the instigation of my brother John, I laid John
Ino-ram £700 to £400 on him, and we shared the bet
with Mr. Hayter in equal parts. But for this I
should probably have heard that I won more by his
losing than I should have done by his winning the
St. Leg-er. I could not account for his running; so
badly, being beat a long way. Indeed, he never
appeared to be able comfortably to keep his place.
Had he been tried, that would have been the cause of
it in many people's eyes ; but in my opinion he
wanted a little more work. I say this because he did
more on his return from Doncaster before Xew-
market, where he ran well ; for though beat by North

THE DESPISED ' DULCIBELLA: 437

Lincoln half a length in the Grand Duke Michael
Stakes across the flat, I think he never ran better.
He won the following year the only three races that
he ran for whilst with me — one being the Claret
Stakes of 200 sovs. each — and was sold to Lord
William Powlett, as I have described ; and thouo-h
he ran several times, strange to say never won a
race afterwards. I sold him, as I have said, because
I did not think he had improved as a four-year-old,
and the selling an exposed horse for so large a sum
(£2,350) was the right thing to do.

This brings me to our joint ownership of Dulcibella,
taken in exchange from Lord William — an animal I
then valued, never having seen her, as horse-dealers do
' a chopper,' to use a technical term, at nothing. On
telling Mr. Robinson at Epsom, next day, what I had
done, he wished me to keep the mare myself, saying
he did not want to have anything to do with her.
But as Lord William had valued her at £400, I
explained that it was onlv fair and riffht that he should
take his share in her ; and when he saw it in this
light he unhesitatingly took the half of her at £200.
And yet this despised mare, selected by Lord William
as the one of his stud to be got rid of, bought by
myself without being seen, and merely as the means to
have what I viewed as a good bargain clinched, and a
share in which my partner would only take with reluc-
tance, within five months wins the Cesarewitch easier
than it had ever been won before, or has been since !

438 'PROMISED LAND' AND ' DULCIBELLA:

As many curious and interesting circumstances
were connected with Dulcibellas trials and races, I
may venture to give a brief record of some of the
particulars. I ran her a mile at Epsom the day after
I took possession of her, and she was beaten as easily
as she had been in her former races, and had all the
appearance of being a bad mare. I took her home
and tried her with my two-year-olds — and they were
not good for much — three-quarters of a mile, even
weights, and she was again beat. But some time after
I found she could stay, and I ran her in public
three-quarters of a mile, when she was not placed.

AVe now come to the Cesarewitch, and the trials for
that race of both Dulcibella and Killigrew.

What Admiral Rous could have seen in Mr. Bennett,
(or ' Jack ' as he was usually called to distinguish him
from Dalby or Farmer Bennett), to sell him a horse
like Killigrew, good enough to win a Cesarewitch, was
to me always inexplicable ; and I thought then, as I
believe now, that he got rid of him because he
thought he was bad, like Weathergage. But Bennett
thought or said otherwise. He came to me about
Killigrew before I knew very much of Dulcibella, and
asked me if I would try his horse, and let him have
my jockey, James Adams, to ride, as he was sure to
have a good chance. To this I agreed, and thus it
was that J. Adams came to ride for him instead of
riding Dulcibella, as he otherwise would have done.
He then backed him for a lot of money ; in fact he

TRIAL OF ' KILLIGREW: 439

bad on him more than he wanted, believing that, if
nothing else, he was sure to have good hedging when
the weights appeared. Soon after, he brought the
horse for the trial. He had only his son with him,
in order that no one at my place should know what
the horse was. We tried the next day, and the follow-
ing is the result :

Bevis, 4 yrs., 6 st. . . . . .1

Schism, 4 yrs., 7 st. 5 lb. . . . .2

Killiyrew, 4 yrs., 6 st. 12 lb. . . .3

Won by half a length ; two lengths between second
and third. From this I was certain the horse would
have no chance to beat Didcibella, knowing then more
of her than I had known a few weeks before : though,
at the time, her name was not mentioned in con-
nection with the race.

I think I never saw a man so ' cut up ' or so
thoroughly beat as Bennett was after the trial. He
hung down his head like a carter's whip. He said it
would be impossible for him to meet his engagements
if he could not hedge his money, or did not win. But
I did not take this despairing view of the matter.

' If you will only keep your own counsel,' I said,
' you may do anything ; and I will do all I can to
assist you out of a difficulty, which, after all, may be
more seeming than real.'

Bennett accounted for the defeat of his horse by
alleging that 'the pace was not fast enough.' But
I tried to convince him this was not so, as I

440 'PROMISED LAND1 AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

pointed out that his horse tired, and that * the faster
they went the farther he must have been beaten.'
But he still thought or said otherwise, showing how
true it is that

' A man convinced against his will,
Is of the same opinion still.'

As it turned out, fortunately the trial had no
prejudicial effect on the horse's position in the market;
showing that Bennett, true to his own cause, had kept
his own counsel, and that my boys also had held their
tongues — but probably because, not knowing anything,
they had nothing to tell. When Dulcibella was intro-
duced into the market, Bennett became alarmed, and
expressed a hope that ' I would not drive his out of
the betting.' I assured him, as I had said before,
that I would do all I could for him; and Killigrew
remained a good firm favourite to the finish, enabling
him to hedge all his money ; and as he wTon £1,000 of
me on Dulcibella, he must have had a good race of it
after all — showing that by forbearance and manage-
ment, it is quite possible to serve conflicting interests ;
for we were both good winners on this event.

The first of two other trials which took place gave
the following result :

o

Dulcibella, 3 yrs., 7 st 1

Schism, 4 yrs., 7 st. i> lb. .... 2
Bevis, 4 yrs., G st. . . . .3

Sutherland, 3 yrs., 5 st. 10 lb. . . .4

'DULCIBELLA'S' TRIAL. 441

Won easily by two lengths ; four lengths between
second and third, and two lengths between the third
and fourth; two and a quarter miles. The pace was
good from start to finish, except at the bend, round
which they went in Indian file, Schism leading, when
they were steadied. But on entering the straight
they drew up side by side and raced the last mile,
the winner always having the best of her opponents,
and Sutherland tiring the last quarter of a mile.

The running" was true enough, but I did not wish
everyone to be quite so wise as myself; so when the
horses pulled up, I said to the boys :

' You have all ridden very well ; but I could see,
looking on, that Schism has not done her best, or she
would have won. I am sorry,' I added, ' but it can't
be helped.' And then, turning to the boy who rode
her, I asked him point-blank : ' Did you not find her
stop just coming up the hill ?'

' Yes,' he said promptly.

And this was true enough, but from a different
cause to what he imagined; and my object in a little
mystifying the matter was gained.

In order to be as certain as possible of my mare's
real chance, in the next trial I borrowed of Mr.
Copperthwaite his old mare Twilight. She had just
run second in the Fitzwilliam Stakes at Doncaster,
with a large and good field behind her; and I there-
fore could rely on her form to show me if Bevis and
Schism had speed enough to be trustworthy trial

442 'PROMISED LAND' AND < DULCIBELLA:

tackle. I knew they could stay. He lent me the
mare unconditionally. Subsequently, however, to
my very considerable annoyance, as upsetting all my
plans, he said he would like to see the trial, and
rather than not have the mare, I consented. I
adopted, however, altered tactics ; for in order to be
sure of Twilight's form, in case she beat the other two,
I put Bevis in a stone lighter than otherwise I should
have done. We tried a mile and three-quarters, the
course Sutherland had run at Doncaster so well just
before, and they finished in the following order :

Bevis, 4 yrs., 5 st. 5 lb. . . .1

Schism, 4 yrs., 8 st. . . . . .2

Twilight, 4 yrs., 8 st. 7 lb. . . .3

Sutherland, 3 yrs., 6 st. . . .4

Won by ten lengths, half a length, and a neck. At
this result I thought Mr. Copperthwaite would have
gone frantic with excitement. He jumped, he shouted
in his Irish brogue some incoherent words. He raised
his clasped hands on high, and waved his hat in the
air in the same idiotic manner. Then he came quietly
and whispered in my ear, ' The Cesarewitch is over.'

Throughout this time I had been utterly at a loss
to make out what it was that so excited him. But
now the truth dawned upon me, and I at once fell in
with his humour and my own views, and said most
earnestly, and in the greatest confidence :
' You won't divulge it, I am sure.'
' Why,' he replied, ' surely you can trust me?'

MR. COPPERTHWAITE HOODWINKED. 443

' Most certainly/ I answered, ' or I would not have
tried the horses before yon.'

As we walked back to the carriage together, I again
broached the subject, which indeed was discussed in a
most serious mood.

' We have not,' I said, ' a shilling on him ' (meaning
Bevis), ' but this may be soon done; and what would
you like to stand on him, if I don't find anything
that can beat him? or on that, if I do ?'

' Ten pounds,' he replied, ' and Mr. Murphy will
take a hundred.'

I said it should be done, and shortly afterwards he
left for town. Taking up the paper two days later, I
saw the following:: ' Beuis was introduced into the
Cesare witch betting at 100 to 1, but soon became a
warm favourite, and left off at 30 to 1. This was
evidently a stable commission.' Now from what
has gone before, no one will for a moment suppose
that either I or the stable had backed him, or that
anyone else but Mr. Copperthwaite himself had done
so ; whilst everyone must be quite sure that the
headlong manner in which he had been unceremoni-
ously introduced into the list of quotations, would
only be equalled by the hasty method of his dis-
appearance from it.

From this time Dulcibdla gradually crept up in the
market. She was tried again, and I found her as
£00(1 as Schism, at even weights, or two stone better
than Sutherland, which I regarded as one of the best

444 'PROMISED LAND' AND ' DULCIBELLA.'

things I had ever seen. I need not perhaps say, that
after Sutherland had run at Doncaster, everyone there
said he could not have lost the Cesarewitch if only he
had been entered in it; and, in short, I could only
satisfy these commentators by confessing that I had
made ' a deplorable mistake.' In the race itself, which
we now come to, nothing, I may say, could have stayed
better than Dulcibella did. After saddling and canter-
ing her, I saw Bennett, and asked him where Killigrew
was ; and being told that he was at the post, and
that ' Jim ' (J. Adams) had his orders as agreed, I
suggested that we should go together and impress
them upon him. When we got to the post, I ad-
dressed myself to Jim, and said :

' Mr* Bennett wants you to take hold of your
old horse's head and come as well with him as you
can directly you are off ;' and turning to Bennett, I
inquired, ' This is so, is it not ?' to which he replied :
' Oh yes, certainly.' And we parted. By doing this I
was sure that Killigrew would be ridden to the best ad-
vantage in the opinion of his master and jockey, who
both believed in his staying powers; and, for all I
knew, he mio;ht have been fitter to run then than he
was when I tried him. But I knew he would likewise be
assisting my mare. My orders to Allen Sadler were
to lie two lengths off Killiqrew till he ffot to the
Ditch, and then come as well as he could the rest
of the way. Killigrew was first through the Ditch-
gap, and Dulcibella next; and a long way before

MY DUN PONY SECOND. 445

reaching the Bushes she was two or three hundred
yards first, and all the rest beat, Killigrew being third
or fourth. Here I was stationed on a little dun-
coloured pony, about twelve hands high, but very fast;
and I rode up by the side of the mare, and told the
boy to hold her tight, riding right in before the
other horses, causing quite a sensation, as I after-
wards heard, on the stand, where many people
thought that I must have been run over by the ruck
coming behind. But their kindly feelings were re-
lieved when they saw me pull out of the track and
pass the winning-post with the horses in front.
Judge Clark the next day facetiously told me that
' he had placed me second.'

Of course, in riding in with the leading horses, I
had committed a terrible offence. Martin Starling,
the clerk of the course, wras very much annoyed, and
threatened to have me up before the stewards, as I
had made myself liable to a penalty of £5. But it
all ended in smoke. I should mention that, at the
Doncaster St. Leger just preceding, I had happened
to be standing near the gate as the winner, St Albans,
entered the weighing enclosure, when he lashed out
and broke the small-bone of my arm. At the Cesare-
witch my arm was still in splints, and consequently
when riding as I have described, I was wearing an
Inverness-cape, and this became inflated like one of
Coxwell's monster balloons. This will give a good idea
as to the distance Dulcibella must have been from the

446 'PROMISED LAND' AND 'DULCIBELLA.'

rest of the horses ; for I started galloping with her
from the Bushes.

As to Killigrews performance in the race, at the
Bushes he lay well up with the ruck, but tired going
down the hill, just as he did in his trial. Had he
waited nicely, I think, with Dulcibella out, he might
have Avon. But he had not every chance, I fear. For
one thing, he was trained, I believe, by Bennett's son,
a lad of eighteen or nineteen in delicate health, who
had just commenced business by training a few of his
father's horses, and that was not in his favour. Indeed,
I have very little doubt that he was second best in
the race; and but for me the Admiral would have had
the mortification of getting rid of another trumpery
selling- plater out of his string, that afterwards won
the Cesarewitch. I may mention, that but for Sir
Joseph Hawley the mare would have had 5 st. 1) lb.
on her, the weight the Admiral fixed ; but this he
altered at Sir Joseph's request, very unfairly, to
6 st. 11 lb. at the last minute. 'But out of evil
comes good.' If she had had the lighter weight on,
we should certainly not have been able to back her
on the favourable terms which we succeeded in
o-etting. Moreover, a lighter boy might have lost the
race for us; and this not at all an unlikely result —
for, as my readers know, this is one of the disappoint-
ments I most fear, having had myself such bitter
experience of the result of having a child and not a
man on a horse.

SALE OF 'DULCIBELLA: 447

We gave Allen Sadler £300 for riding the race.
It was an acceptable gift to him, and he highly appre-
ciated our generosity. I suppose that were such a
sum offered on such an occasion to a jockey to-day,
it would be contemptuously returned with some such
elegant observation as, ' Perhaps, sir, you may be
more in want of it than I am.'

I have related how we became possessed of Dulci-
bella, and it only now remains to say how we sold
her, and the reason for doing so. Didcibella. like
Promised Land, was sold because I did not think she
was, at the difference of age, so good as a four-year-
old as she had been at three. She was sold for
£1,500 under the following circumstances. She was
in the Ascot Cup, and Lord Stamford asked me, on
the first day of the race, if I would sell her. I asked
£1.500, which, however, his lordship said was too
much; but added that he would give £1,200, and
£300 more the first time she won. I accepted the
offer, and Ave got the sum first asked, as she won the
Queen's Plate at the same meeting, after being beat
for the Cup. She ran afterwards in ten or twelve
races, and as a six-year-old won the Great Yorkshire
Stakes at Doncaster ; but was beat subsequently and
retired from the turf, never having been so good as
she was as a three-year-old in October. Mr. Robin-
son and myself realized by her, in about fourteen
months, £2,705 by winning the Cesarewitch and her
sale. She won us, besides, nearly twenty times this

448 'PROMISED LAND1 AND < DULCIBELLA.'

amount in bets ; and indirectly in other ways, such
as her services in trying Weatherbound for the
Cambridgeshire, our winnings by her could have
fallen little short of £50,000. I remember the
amount to have been this or more ; for when Mr.
Robinson was on one occasion reminded of it, the
old gentleman made use of one of his characteristic
phrases :

' Thank you, my lord,' he said; ' what will you take
at the bar after that ?

CHAPTER XXV.

MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

Glee, by Touchstone — Young Trumpeter and horses jointly owned
— Sale of Conductor — Characteristics — A luncheon at High
Wycombe — As a story-teller — Examples : ' The farmer and
his wife ' : ' British brandy ' — A levee at Newmarket ; Mr.
Robinson in the chair — 'The changeable foxhound puppy '—
An octogenarian breaking a colt — A tremendous jump —
Perilous coachmanship — Energy in old age — ■' A bright beacon
for imitation ' — Conclusion.

In this, my last chapter, I with great pleasure set
myself to record some reminiscences of that estimable
gentleman and sincere friend, my partner in the two
horses whose performances have just been described.
Mr. Thomas Robinson, I have already said, lived at
High "Wycombe, Bucks. He was an extremely
amusing; old gentleman, and knew more droll stories
than anyone else I ever met with, which he told with
admirable effect. He kept a few brood-mares, and
either sold or trained their produce. By good luck
or judgment he happened to possess one in herself a
fortune — Glee, by Touchstone out of Harmony, by
Reveller. His mares and foals never looked in good

29

45 o MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

condition, but no man could or did do his yearlings
better, and very few ever looked so well. Indeed, in
my pretty frequent visits to him, I learned several
valuable things in connection with both breeding and
racing.

I had many dealings with him, and specially in
purchasing the horses in which we had a joint interest.
No man could have behaved in a fairer or more
pleasant way than he did to me, or have placed more
confidence in everything that I did. He usually
stood a pony, or at most fifty pounds, when we
backed anything of our own, except, of course, in a
big event, when he would invest a little more. After
Dulcibellds Cesarewitch we had a few other good-
looking horses together. Bugler, by Young Trum-
peter, was the best. In 1872 he won the Blankney
and Brownley Nursery Stakes at Lincoln, carrying
in the latter 14 lb. extra, and beating Chandos and
several others. He also won the Carnival Nursery
at Shrewsbury, and afterwards ran there third to
Queens Proctor, 7 st. 2 lb., and Lord Wilton's colt
by Beadsman out of Sandal, 7 st. 61b., our horse
carrying 9 st. 12 lb. In this race he looked all over
a winner, till he tired the last few strides in the wet
ground. Mr. Fitz Oldaker, after this, offered us
l!2,000 for him. But we did not sell, and this was a
mistake ; for although he won us two or three little
races in the spring of the following year, we then
sold him for much less. Little Tom, out of Margaret,

SALE OF 'CONDUCTOR.' 451

so named because of his immense size, was a good
horse as a two-year-old ; but, like most of the Young
Trumpeters, was bad tempered. He ran as a three-
year-old in the Cesarewitch and Cambridgeshire un-
placed, with 5 st 10 lb. on him in each race, and won
a stake between the two races, carrying 8 st. 5 lb.,
evidently showing that no boy could ride him.

Conductor was a grand horse, and looked as good
again as he really was ; for he was but moderate.
I ran him only once in the Trial Stakes at Ascot,
winner to be sold for £1,000, which he won by a
length, beating Thunder, second, and seven others
beat a long way, and was claimed by Mr. Vyner.
After the race, Mr. Vyner said to me :

' I lost £2,000 on Thunder by laying that sum to
£1,000 on him, and I consider I get it back by
claiming yours at £1,000, for he must be very cheap
at £3,000.'

1 We do not think him very good,' I told him in
reply ; ' or we should not have run him in a race,
winners to be sold.'

He was taken to Newmarket, and was found to be
a bad horse ; and though he ran many times after-
wards, he never Avon a race again.

Young Trumpeter, I should say, was a well-bred
horse, being by Trumpeter out of Eugenie, by Surplice
out of Clementina, by Venison out of Cobweb, and a
good stallion. Unfortunately he died from inflam-
mation of the lungs, a young horse, and before he had

29—2

452 MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

time to distinguish himself very much at the stud.
Here Mr. Robinson sustained a great loss, and he
was equally unlucky in losing his valuable mare,
Glee, heavy in foal to Jericho. She fell over a bridge
in his paddock, and killed herself, in the summer of
1856.

I have mentioned that I went to High Wycombe
to look at the wonderfully promising brother of
Happy Land ; and a brief account of my reception on
that occasion will, I think, give some idea of the
personality of my worthy entertainer. He always had
plenty of water-cress to give us to eat, if nothing
else, according to his own account. But I generally
found abundance of substantial concomitants in the
shape of beef and mutton, and something better to
drink, at least in the opinion of most of us, than the
water, pellucid as it was, in which the dainty cresses
grew. On my arrival, the old gentleman looked robust
as usual, and in reply to my inquiries said :

' I am hearty as a buck, but can't jump so high;' and
then insisted that we should do ample justice to a
hearty luncheon. This was his rule : he would show
you no horses until the meal, which was by no means
a formality, was got through. ' They look so much
bigger and better,' he would say, ' after a little some-
thing to eat and a glass or two of my old black-strap,
a story and a glass of toddy, just to enliven our
spirits.'

These pleasant conditions were duly fulfilled on

'THE FARMER AND HIS WIFE.' 453

this occasion, not omitting the story ; which, so far
as I remember, ran something to the following effect,
though, in reproducing it, it must, I fear, lose much
of the point it gained in the manner of its relation by
our host.

' Not long before you arrived,' so he began, ' a
strange and laughable thing happened not far from
this place. A farmer and his wife had spent a jovial
evening at a friend's house, and had consented, after
several pressing invitations, to have "just a parting
glass." They then left as they came, the good dame
being first firmly seated on the pillion, a customary
mode of riding in early days. In crossing a
stream they had to go through, the horse stopped to
drink, and from some unaccountable or unexplained
accident the lady lost her equilibrium, and was
precipitated into the water below without the know-
ledge of her consort. On his arrival at home, on
being asked where his good wife was. he pointed over
his shoulder to the vacant seat ; but she was not
there. Search was immediately made, and they
found her in the brook up to her neck in the refresh-
ing; element. On bein"* asked to come out, she
replied : " No more, no more, thank 'ee, neither hot
nor cold ;" and she was with difficulty rescued from
her perilous position.'

Another story, I call to mind, was told imme-
diately on our return to the carriage, after Dulcibdlas
victory in the Cesarewitch ; when, being all in good

454 MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

spirits, we drank to the mare's good health, and
Mr. Robinson told us how his friend Mr. Joseph
Rogers liked brand)7, but to please him it must be
foreign* Once seeing a Boniface standing by the
door of his own wayside inn, Rogers walked up to
him :

' Landlord, have you any good British brandy ?'
he inquired.

' Yes, sir,' was the prompt and cheerful answer.

' Then bring me a glass of beer,' Rogers gravely
replied.

Mr. Robinson then related his own similar ex-
perience.

' I once,' he said, ' asked the barmaid at the White
Lion for a glass of beer. It was not exactl}7 to my
taste, and she, seeing I made somewhat of a wry face
over it, kindly inquired :

' " Don't you like it, sir ? There is nothing in it
but pure malt and hops."

' But,' said Mr. Robinson, ' I ventured to think
differently, and said so :

' " Is there not a little water, don't you think ?"

' " Lor, sir !" she replied, " I entirely forgot that."

' " No," I replied, " I'll be hanged if you did!"

'The fact is,' he said in conclusion, 'the wort
from which it was brewed never worked, being, as
the Irishman said, " not strong enough to play."

In the evening of the same day, we held a small
levee to receive the hearty congratulations of our

A LEVEE AT NEWMARKET. 455

friends on our victory. The names of some who
were then present I now forget, and many of them
have passed away. I remember, however, that my
excellent partner took the chair, as a matter of right
rather than of courtesy, and kept us all alive through-
out the evening with his good humour and wit.
Tom Smith, too, was there; but not in the most
exuberant spirits — for it appears he had won more
money that day than he was afraid he should receive
the next, through judiciously selecting a man to bet
with in the front of the rooms whom he had never
seen before, and not even having thought it worth
while to ask his name. But he had not lost, and that
was some comfort ; and after a few glasses of grog —
for he was not at all particular as to the number of
them, if they were only hot and strong — he became
mirthful, and sang us, ' With thee, my bark, I'll swiftly
fly across the foaming main,' thinking, perhaps, that
the man he had betted with might be going in the
same direction. So effective in restoring his good
spirits were a fresh cigar and a replenished glass,
that he had even the audacity to call upon the chair-
man for a toast, only, however, to be told not to be
in a hurry. For Mr. Robinson had no idea that the
cart should be put before the horse ; but preferred to
open the business of the evening in his own way by
pointing out, in a short simple speech, that we had
gathered together for the purpose of enjoying our-
selves, and proposing that the recalcitrants should be

456 MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

1 immediately expelled.' Then in due course came a
demand for ' a story ' from the chairman, a proposal
received in every quarter of the room, already suffused
Avith smoke and the rich odours of steaming grog,
with shouts of approval. And of course the story
followed ; and I prefer to give it as nearly as I can
remember in my old friend's own words :

' The story,' said the chairman, ' of the ubiquitous
porcine quadruped, or the changeable foxhound
puppy, is what I shall now relate. Frank Butler
(we all know him) was fond of jokes, and was him-
self a good punster. He was also fond of shooting
and hunting, and ' walked a puppy.' He rented a
manor close by, and in company with his brother
William and Sam Roarers had finished beating; some
turnips, and had retired to the leeward side of a
corn-stack just made, for the purpose of having
luncheon, the pupj)y following them, when they saw
old Tom Brenty coming with a sack slung carelessly
across his shoulders. He was about half-witted, or
in provincial language " daft," and would do no
regular work, but earned a scanty precarious living
by going on errands. To him Frank said :
' " What have you got in the sack, Tommy ?"
' To which he replied in his stammering way :
' " A so-o-o-sow pig for Mr. Barratt at the
Grange."

' They gave him some lunch, and whilst Frank
amused him, Sam and William managed to take the

'THE CHANGEABLE HOUND.' 457

pig out and put the foxhound puppy in the sack, and
then emptied the luncheon-basket and put the sow
pig into it, and sent Tommy delighted on his journey.
Arrived at the Grange he met Mr. Barratt, who said :

1 " Well, Tommy, what brings you here?"

' " I have brought you a — a — a — so-sow pig from
Mr. Dobedee," was the rejoinder.

'"Oh, thanks!" he said; "that is just what I
wanted. Bring her down to the sty."

' But when the sack was opened, out came a fox-
hound puppy, much to the annoyance of Mr. Barratt,
who said :

1 " I wanted a sow pig, and not a foxhound puppy.
Take him back to Mr. Dobedee, and tell him so."

' And much to the annoyance of old Tommy, who
declared he saw a sow pig put in the sack before he
started, the hound w^as again put in the bag, and with
him he retraced his steps to Mr. Dobedee's.

' Frank and his party had all this time been waiting
for old Tommy's return. When he arrived William
said to him :

1 " It's very hot, Tommy ; have a drop of something
to drink and take a rest," which he was glad enough
to do. And whilst he was refreshing himself the
puppy was removed and the sow pig once more put
in the sack, and Tommy was again off on his home-
ward journey ; and Frank and his party commenced
shooting again. Once more returned to Mr. Dobedee,
his master, Tommy said to him :

458 MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

' " Mr. Barratt wanted a soo-o-sow pig, and not a
foxhound puppy."

' " Well," replied Mr. Dobedee, " I sent him one."

'"No you didn't, sir; you sent him a foxhound
puppy, and here he is," shooting him out, as he
thought, in the kitchen.

' " There," said Mr. Dobedee, " I knew I sent him
a sow pig. Have some dinner, Tommy, and take her
back again."

' Tommy, staring with astonishment, replied : " Oh,
no ; she can be a sow pig when she likes and
she can be a foxhound puppy when she likes,"
stuttering the while ; nor would anything induce
him to carry her back, though the distance was not
far.

' Frank afterwards, on meeting Mr. Dobedee, told
him the story, over which they had a good laugh, and
so it ended.'

This was the chairman's story, and as such received,
I need not say, with deafening applause. How shall
I tell how he kept us alive afterwards — how he
sang with great pathos his favourite, ' Auld Lang-
syne ;' how, in the absence of Harker, who, as he
said, ' was engaged that night at a banquet with his
Royal Highness the Duke of a town close by,' he
gave ' All friends round St. Paul's,' and made the
evening go, till it was clear from general appearances
that, as our hunting friend old Carter would say,
'the pace was good, and that settles them'? Then

AN OCTOGENARIAN HORSEBREAKER. 459

drawing; his chronometer from his fob with but little
less trouble than drawing a bucket from a well, he
announced that it was eleven o'clock, and drinking to
' our next merry meeting,' and with regret that ' the
best o' friends must part, as the dog said when he
lost his tail,' dismissed the company home, to meet them
next morning, himself as fresh as a daisy and with a
joke on his lips, to the effect that he ' was dry, and
that if he had only known it over-night he would
then have taken enough to quench his insatiable
thirst.'

I have naturally, perhaps, dwelt over the incidents
of an evening which was a memorable one to both of
us. The last time, I think, that I ever had the
pleasure of seeing my old friend wTas at his own
home, when lie was about eighty -one years old. And
at that age he had just mounted a colt which his
stud-groom, Spriggs, himself a man of sixty, was
eno-ao-ed in breaking.

' The fact is,' said my veteran friend, ' Spriggs is
getting too old for it, and is afraid of the colt, who is
getting the mastery of him ; and unless I tackle him
at once, he (the colt) will be ruined.'

However, after a bit he dismounted, and then told
me how his man had come to be unnerved. It
appeared that a two-year-old that I had sold to
Spriggs a few weeks before, had run away with him
from the top of a hill about a quarter of a mile off,
coming back to the stables. Unfortunately the gates

460 MR, THOMAS ROBINSON.

were shut, and the filly charged them and got safely
over, though hitting them very hard. This or some-
thing else unseated Spriggs, who fell into the muck-
yard on the other side, without receiving any actual
bodily injury ; although the shock had been sufficient
to upset his entire nervous system, with the result, as
Mr. Robinson said, that he himself would have to
finish breaking the colt — a pretty stiff undertaking
for a man of his years.

Now, without exaggeration, I should say that the
yard-gates were over six feet high. Not that such a
height is anything very extraordinary in the way of a
jump, as we are told Mr. Mytton cleared a gate seven
feet high on his horse Baronet, in the presence of
' Nimrod,' the sporting writer of that day. Mr. Sadler,
too, had a horse that jumped over a flight of hurdles
stood up end-ways, which is nine feet. This he did
to get from one paddock to the other, but he had no
rider on him. But the jump was remarkable in the
fact that probably the filly never saw a fence before,
or rather never jumped over one, and that the man
on her back was sixty years old or more.

It was on this occasion that Mr. Robinson told me
of the story he had once heard of a precocious youth
who was brought up to show his learning, by re-
peating the alphabet to the clergyman.

' Now, Tommy,' said his proud instructor, ' let
the gentleman hear how nicely you can say your
letters.'

ENERGY IN OLD AGE. 461

A, B, C were got through without hesitation ; but
P was a puzzler.

' Go on,' said the clergyman by way of encourage-
ment ; ' you know it very well.'

' Oh yes, sir,' replies Tommy ; ' I knows un very
well by sight, but I forget his name.'

Mr. Robinson was always a remarkably early riser.
He was a moderate liver, although he occasionally
enjoyed a glass with a friend whilst relating or hearing
some humorous, but innocent, story ; for be it said
his humour was never coarse. He was fond of driving,
but a bad coachman, and rather delighted than other-
wise in ' a spill,' and he had plenty of them He
drove me once or twice a short distance, and nearly
upset me two or three times. He drove round the
corners so fast that the gig was nicely balanced on
one wheel for a considerable distance, and then
fortunately settled on the other. And the next thing-
was, he just missed coming into contact (whilst going
at a great pace) with a load of timber ; which, had it
but have touched us, we must have been smashed.
But he thought nothing of it; and he rode just as
wildly. ISTo one would ever believe, to see him ride
or drive, that he had been bred up with horses all his
lifetime, and made them his special study.

He was a good shot, and walked well ; but what-
ever he might have been at running in his early days,
this was not his forte at the age of seventy. For I
remember that one clay, when shooting with me at

462 MR. THOMAS ROBINSON.

Woodyates, he had winged a bird, and wishing to be
his own retriever, dashed up the hill after it at terrific
speed, but was soon distanced. AVhen the bird rested,
he got above it, ' gaping,' to use his own words, ' like
a vouns: rook.' He was then master of the situation,
and soon bagged his game triumphantly and in good
style. He drove at the age of eighty-three, within a
few months of his death, seventy miles — which is no
easy work even for a young man — and transacted
business, reaching home in time to dress and dine
with a party of friends at High Wycombe, returning
about midnioht, and the next mornino- was at his
business again as if nothing had happened out of the
common course of things. He was a good parent,
a sincere friend, and an honest man. He lived in
comfortable circumstances, and died in the eighty-
third year of his age, leaving three children to lament
his loss.

In conclusion, I must say that Mr. Robinson was a
man amongst men, and will always be so cherished
in my memory. Industrious and frugal, he made
himself agreeably respected by his every action
throughout a long and laborious life. In every
respect, so far as his ability and means permitted, he
carefully studied and relieved the wants of the neces-
sitous, consoled the afflicted, and untiringly laboured
disinterestedly for the good of all. Be this said to
his memory. His was the true philosophy which
should stand forth as a bright and alluring beacon

A BEACON TO BE FOLLOWED. 463

for the imitation and guidance of the present and
succeeding generations. In such a life consists the
great secret of true happiness ; for in it is found the
only pleasure that none can take away. To have the
opportunity of writing in such a strain, weak though
it be, falls to the lot of few, and to still fewer to have
been blest with the privilege of knowing intimately a
man of such an exemplary character; and with this
poor tribute to his memory I may well bring my
reminiscences to a close.

A last word may be expected from me in reference
to some of the characters who have figured in these
pages. Of that illustrious nobleman of world-wide
fame, Lord George Bentinck, I have written in a
strain different to that generally adopted by historians
of the turf, who have been accustomed to speak of
him euphemistically, simply because their knowledge
of him was restricted to a few of the ostentatious
actions which emanated from his love of appearing
superlative in the eyes of the world. It may be
thought I have written harshly ; but I can only say
that I have put great and constant restraint on my
pen, in order to set forth no fact for which I have not
the fullest authority, and to prevent the expression of
my personal feeling with regard to an individual
action — lest I should be thought prejudiced — and so
leave the reader to form his own opinion from the
bare recital of what reallv occurred. Yet when we

464 CONCLUSION.

remember that as ' Caesar's wife should be above
suspicion,' so a nobleman's actions should be noble,
and compare the turf career of Lord George with that,
for instance, of the late Lord Durham, or of Sir
Edward B. B. Baker — men who raced for the benefit
of the community, and not for their individual plea-
sure or profit — we cannot but admit that Lord George
was often moved hy an unworthy spirit of intrigue to
do things that were selfish, sordid, and even base, and
which, taken in the best light, aimed only to fulfil a
poor ambition to reign supreme over others. Take
the varnish from the picture, and we find him not, as
is the popular belief, and as he doubtless wished him-
self to be believed, ' affable, just, and generous,' but
rather 'arrogant, self-seeking, and mean.'

The honoured names of Lords Palmerston and
Lynedoch, and other racing-men of their stamp, will
live in the esteem of rising generations, when those
of such men as Lord George, Hill and Gully, will be
lost in oblivion. Nor must we forget the good done
to racing by the creditable part played in it by such
men as Mr. Parker, and men of his class ; whilst the
less that is said the better, of such foolish gentlemen
as Mr. Starkey and others, who ruin themselves and
discredit the national sport, no one knows how.

The portions that treat of trials have, I know,
necessarily a technical character, which may hardly
fit them to appear as reminiscences ; but that they
are so in the strictest sense cannot be doubted. And

CONCLUSION. 465

they should, I think, have an interest of their own
for all who take a practical interest in the turf;
whilst they will serve to supplement what has
already appeared on this subject in ' The Racehorse
in Training/ to which the present is intended, in a
sense, as a companion volume. The comparison
which I have ventured to draw between the old and
the new schools of trainers and jockeys will, I appre-
hend, be commended or condemned according to the
view taken of it ; but its intention will not be readily
mistaken by any reader.

I have found it no easy task to delineate the
various idiosyncrasies of many dissimilar characters,
as exhibited at different times and places. If there-
fore I have only outlined them, I trust it may prove
sufficient for the purpose intended. But I may say
that all I have written has been written, to the best
of my knowledge and ability, in the true interests
of racing; and whilst I have endeavoured neither
unjustly to censure nor unseemly to praise one
character or the other, I have been careful that every
important fact put forward shall be capable of ample
corroboration, if needed. We are told that ' The
task of an author is either to teach truth that is
not known, or to recommend known truths by his
manner of adorning them.' And we also know that

1 Of old, those met reward that could excel,
And such were praised that but endeavoured well.'

30

466 CONCLUSION.

However laudable my aim, I have no expectation to
excel, but shall be glad to find that my ' reminis-
cences ' meet, at the hands of a generous public, that
reward which is the meed of one who, in saying what
he has to say, has done his best.

THE END.

BILLING * SONS. PRINTERS GUILOFOrtD.

FIFTH EDITION.

THE RACEHORSE IN TRAINING,

BY WILLIAM DAY.

Opinions of the ' Times,' and other Daily and Sporting Papers.

. We have diligently perused this novel work with great pleasure ; and in recording our verdict in
Us favour we shall give a few brief extracts from the Leading daily papers and other journals: the Fimes,

'. and Daily /'< legraph all loudly applaud it, whilst numerous other papers deal theirpraises
wit U unsparing hands.

We regret we shall not have space enough to notice more than some of the most striking points in
a book replete with common sense, and abounding in literary acumen, and certainly the best work
on a diversfled subject we ever remember to have seen.

The Sporting Life commences its review thus :— ' We may premise our notice of this new work by
saying that we deem it oneof the best and most exhaustive on a subject most difficult to handle ever
launched on the ocean of public criticism ;' and after a lengthy review concludes its remarks with the
following:— 'Successes of the Woodyates Stable, and of low-priced yearlings, are most interesting
chapters. Experiences of trials, evils of the light-weight scale, and a host of other matters make us
loath to leave the volume; but space compels, and while we heartily congratulate Mr. William Day
on the production of a book which cannot fail to be regarded as a standard work in Turf Literature,
we at the same time feel sure that if merit meets its proper reward, success for " The Racehorse in
Training " is certain.'

The Sinn;' iit a Tim*-* writes (on the same day as the above, being the two first reviews that appeared),
' If ever there was a man in a position to speak with authority on matters appertaining to the Turf,
that man is William Day. This is a volume that we took up not for the purpose of reviewing, but
with the conviction that we should find every word of it of value, and that to read it was a duty. We
laid it down, satisfied that we knew more of racing than when we took it up.' Then, after devoting
nearly two columns to thesub.iect, itconcludes its remarks with the subjoined complimentary passage:
— ' ( )f the more scientific matters touched upon by the author we do not speak. In the way of incident
our remarks convey only a very slight notion of the wealth of this volume. We look upon the bookas
one of the most valuable ever contributed to Turf Literature. To those who are interested in training
it is instructive : and to that larger section who love the gossip of racing, it is entert lining.' We shall
next notice the Sp >rtsm m, the only daily of its class. After praising Mr. William Dav, it s n -
' Turning, however, to the contents of the volume we find the author, as a preliminary, briefly setting
forth the items upon which he purposes to descant. Mr. Day, however, is happiest when, having
treated upon the various ailments to which horses are subject, and prescribed the most approved
mode of treatment, he goes on to speak of the horse's condition.' Then the reviewer appropriately
concludes as follows :— It has evidently been written by a deep-thinking and conscientious man. and
we earnestly hope that his aspirations may be realized, and that hishandsom lv b mad and altogether
worthy volume may effect a deal of good.' In this manner our contemporaries express their ad-
miration for the various portions of this work : but to our minds there is nothing more valmbie or
interesting in the whole book than the chapters on the morality of the turf, an 1 the treatment of the
horse. We look on the author here as a m Jral philosoph sr discussing ethics, and admire his fearless
declamation against the social evil, which is not more severe than needed ; nor can every line of it be
too strongly recommended to the careful consideration of those empowered to suppress it. The
management of the horse in health and sickness is so comprehensive and clear, that to everyone keep-
ing hack, carriage horse, or hunter, it is an invaluable treasure.

Of the daily papers the Times remarks in a long and able article :— ' We can say, at least without
hearing counter-argument, that Mr. Day is a plausible advocate for his systems, and that he his
illustrated them with apposite and entertaining anecdotes, which invariably and triumphantly vindi-
cate their success : and it would be difficult for anybody interested in stable management to read his
volume carefully without getting valuable hints.' Again: 'Mr. Day has not only written a useful
book, but one that in its simple and straightforward style does no little credit to its literary ability.'

From the review in the st,i ,,,l,i r,l of nearly two columns we select the following passages':—' Asone
reads we are surprised at the immense amount of information upon every subject connected with
racing which is condensed within the compass of a single volume, the whole arranged with a clearness
and conciseness which would do credit to the most practised writer. It is another proof of the fact
that the more thoroughly a man knows his subject, the more briefly he can expl iin it. Mr. Dav, with
his long and varied experience, is never in doubt. He is thoroughly convinced as to the best wav of
doing a thing, and is always able to illustrate his dictum by a few striking examples, which are worth
pages of argument.'

We shall close our quotations from the daily papers with an extract from the Daihi T:-lriirai>h, which
says:— 'Modest in its aims, unambitious in its style, concise and free from prolixity in its langu ige,
written, too, in plain, unadorned, and intelligible English, the book may lay claim with justice that,
of its kind, it has no superior in the wide diversified field of so-called literature which owes its in-
spiration, or at least its origin, to horse-racing Be this, however, as it mav, no competent

reader can deny that William Day has written one of the most fearless, searching, authoritative, and
interesting works that has ever appeared upon an inexhaustible subject, and we trust that he may be
rewarded, as he deserves, by living to see its passage through many successive editions.'

Reviews of County Papers.

To these many flattering extracts we may remark that the book is full of information and suggestive
matter ; the whole being related in a plain, though powerful, refined, and effective style, without the
loi[ua -it v and jargon which too often spoil otherwise readable ami useful works. We unhesitatingly
proclaim Mr. William Day's remarkable book one of great excellence, unique, interesting, and
valuable, which to appreciate thoroughly must be read. With a passage or two taken from the Pi ' '
we shall concludeour notice of the book under consideration. ( >f all the weekly pap srs perhaps the
Fit 1 1 has the most able and complete article, and is more lavish with its praise thanany of its numerous
contemporaries, and we mav add with justice. ' .Many books,' it remarks, ' upon racing and spirting
subjects are reviewed in these columns, but it is with no ordinary pleasure that we pronounce " The
Racehorse in Training " to be a work of exceptional merit.' It adds : ' Few books of equal authority

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS.-Continued.

have indeed, ever been written upon horse-racing, and it is but an inadequate description of this work
to say that it will take its place for all time among the classics of the turf. The demand for it will
be such as to carry it beyond a doubt into many editions, for it will be read by the next generation,
and by many generations which are yet to come, with an interest scarcely inferior to that exhibited
by readers who are either the contemporaries of its author or the sons of Ins contemporaries; and
concludes by saying ■ ' To do exhaustive justice toone of the most unmasking, searching, and fearless
expositions of the plague-spots infecting our chief national sport that have ever seen the light m print,
would far exceed the limits accorded to us upon the present occasion ; suffice it, in conclusion, for us
to say that written in admirable and sinewy English, supported by a widely diversified and far-ex-
tending experience, and drawn from the stores of a comprehensive and retentive memory,. Vv llliani
Day's "Racehorse in Training" has never been surpassed in wisdom and knowledge by any of its count-
less predecessors upon the same or upon cognate subjects; and that its publication m the present year
is undoubtedly so significant and noteworthy an incident, that a lover of horse-racing, however long
his life may be, is not likely to see it repeated in his time.*

This is a remarkable book, and we are fortified in the opinion by the unanimous verdict of the
universal English Press. All the papers that have noticed it— from the omnipotent Tinws down to
the modest penny ' local '—agree as to its merits. The Thins asserts ' Mr. Day has not only written a
useful book, but one that in its simple and straightforward sty le does no little credit to his literary
ability' The Standard announces 'the whole is arranged with a clearness and conciseness which
would do credit to the most practised writer,' and declares itself ' surprisedat theamount of informa-
tion upon every subject connected with racing.' The Daily Telegraph says, ' \\ llliam Day has written
one of the most fearless, searching, authoritative, and interesting works that has ever appeared upon
an inexhaustible subject.' The Field is stronger still, and commends it as never having been 'surpassed
in wisdom and knowledge by its countless predecessors upon the same or cognate subjects.' The
Sporting Lif< deems the book 'one of the best and most exhaustive on a subject most difficult to
handle ever launched on the ocean of public criticism.' The Sporting Times regards the book 'as one
of the most valuable ever contributed to Turf Literature;' and the Sportsman considers it lias
evidently been written bv a deep-thinking and conscientious man.' W e might adduce a host of other
criticisms equally favourable and eulogistic from the 'small fry of the Iress, but probably the
opinions we have q uoted from the ' upper ten ' amongst the newspapers will be considered ample proof
in support of the dictum with which we started. With such a consensus of praise, therefore, we are
justified in stating the work will be found a most valuable handbcok to those initiated into the
mysteries of training the 'noble animal ;' but we will say even for those not gifted with horsey
tendencies it possesses a rare amount of interest and entertainment. \\ eto whom the arcana of the
paddock is an occult science, and the jargon of the betting ring an unknown tongue, have perused
with infinite zest the wealth of anecdote and illustration with which Jhebook abounds, all being
told in a simi
the best test <
be a true critem.

enviable amount of popularity, as may be judged from the fact that it has already passed through
three editions, and we believe it about to be launched on a fourth— nay more, we find our C continental
neighbours have not been insensible to its attractions, for we are told it is now being translated into
French and German. A book possessing such high credentials scarcely needs any other testimony of
its excellence, and we may pretty confidently predict that it will take a permanent place among the
standard works of Turf Literature. Mr. Day, backed by a thirty years experience in the training and
management of racehorses, is entitled to speak with authority, and yet he expresses his opinions with
a modesty ami absence of assumption that are highly commendable, though not always observable m
writers who can boast a lifelong acquaintance 'and practice in the subjects with which they deal.
He might be excused if he spoke mor< magistri, but lie is never found asserting his opinion in an
obtrusive manner; he has always the evidence of facts to back him up, and therefore Ins statements
are entitled to the respect and attention they have received from all quarters \\ e presume the intro-
ductory chapters on the economy of the training stable will be considered of great, it not primary,
importance to racing men. and certainly if anyone has aright to speak ex cathedraov such a subject
it is the master of the Woodyates stables. We are obviously unable to give an opinion on the manner
in which he has acquitted himself, but, borrowing the words of 'those who ought to know, we may
say in the words of Tin Sporting Mirror, 'The management of the horse in health and sickness is so
comprehensive and clear that to everyone keeping a hack, carriage horse, or hunter it is an invaluable
treasure ' Possibly to the general reader, if he have what may be called an historical cast of mind,
the chapter on ' Pacing Past and Present ' will prove of the most interest ; m our case it was so and we
have read with considerable relish that portion of the book which contrasts the racing of the last
and earlier years of the present century with its aspect in the latter days. There has been a wonder-
ful change in this as in everything else in the lapse of little more than a hundred j ears and the halatw
of the aristocratic ' meetings,' Ascot, Epsom, Derby, and Doncaster, will be disposed to smile when
he reads of the little ' one-horse ' affairs that took place m 1750, seme thirty years anterior to the first
Derby. The Author carries us pleasantly through all the phases of the development of the national
sport up to the gigantic transactions which accompany the 'big races of our time. Ihese matters
will, however, as we have said, be most taking with outsiders; but all men possessed of any right
feeling will applaud the fearless manner in which, to use the language of the ruM, he exposes the
plague-spots infecting our chief national sport.' Mr. Day thinks the remedy for the evi Is of the pre-
sent betting system would be to legalise it; and he very fairly asks, If transactions on the ^tock Ex-
change are legal, why should it be otherwise with those on the turf? And it is difficult to gainsay
such a position. Aiid we think his suggested reforms with regard to the management and arrange-
ment of races should meet with the approval of all who sincerely wish to see our racecourses punned
from the abuses and objections with which they are but too justly chargeable. I lie author is evidently
in earnest as to his wish to ' cleanse the Augsean stable' of the load of impurities with which it is
defiled ■ and if his suggestions secure the attention they deserve he will have the satisfaction of seeing
our races relieved of much of the odium which at present rests upon them. At anyrate. he has made
his mark on the literature of the turf, and we believe his work will be regarded as the text-book on
racing matters for very many years. We do not think it is likely to be superseded by anything more
' fearless searching, and authoritative ' than itself, and we subscribe heartily to the opinion expressed
by a contemporary-' That the work, as a whole, is a masterpiece of .plain, sensiblejmtang, a Perfect
mine of wealth to trainers and owners of horses, and, we may add, jockeys, lo such we regard the
volume as a trustworthy rod, m.enm which this century, we predict, will not see surpassed. —Dorset
County Chronicle, February 1st, 1881.

The Racehorse in Training, with Hints on Racing Reform.— London : Chapman & Hall.

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