is too often the lot of gamblers. A long run of ill-luck preyed upon
his spirits, soured his temper, and drove him to that last resource
of an enfeebled mind--the brandy bottle. As he could not shine in
his wonted splendour, he sought the most obscure public-houses in
the purlieus of St. Giles, where he used to pass whole nights in the
company of his countrymen of the lowest class. Overwhelmed by debt and
worn-out body and soul, he was constantly pursued by the terrors of the
law, and alternately imprisoned by his own fears or confined in the
King's Bench, till, a broken and miserable man, he welcomed death as a
friend come to relieve him of an almost insupportable load.
An eccentric supporter of the Turf, who died in 1799, was Councillor
Lade. It was his highest ambition to be thought a distinguished member
of the sporting world; but in this, as in the more contracted circle of
private life, he was not destined to cut a conspicuous figure, being by
nature much better calculated for an obscure place in the background.
During the last twenty years of his life he kept a miserable lot of
spindle-shanked brood mares, colts, and fillies at Cannon Park, between
Kingsclere and Overton in Hampshire--a place which, owing to its
barrenness, was quite unsuited for breeding horses.
His successes on the Turf were insignificant. During the last twelve
years of his life he hardly ever brought less than six, seven, or
eight horses annually to the post for country plates (never till the
last two or three years presuming to sport his name at Newmarket);
nevertheless, few of them, if any, ever realised his expectations,
or paid one-third of the expenses in the way of breeding, breaking,
training, running, or sale. Councillor Lade's almost constant sequence
of disappointments originated in one single cause strikingly palpable
to every eye but his own, which was their breeder's parsimony. His
mares were in a wretched and deplorable state of emaciation during the
whole time of bearing their foals, whilst a systematic starvation of
both dams and offspring when foals, and a miserable sustenance barely
enough to support life when weaned, totally nullified his chances of
success upon the Turf.
It was no uncommon thing to see the Councillor's favourite brood mare,
Laetitia, and many others with their foals, in the fertile months of
May and June, upon the side of a barren, burnt-up hill, with barely
pasture sufficient to keep even the dam in existence, without even
a possibility of affording half the nutriment necessary for the
unfortunate foal. Owing to these highly injudicious and cruel methods,
his stud, even when of superior blood, was always inferior in bone and
strength to its rivals, there being in it never more than one horse in
every eight or ten with constitutional stamina sufficient to bear the
training necessary before going to the post.
When after his death the Councillor's wretched stud were on their way
to be sold by auction they excited universal pity from the humane in
the towns and villages through which they passed. Many of the horses
sold for the trifling sum of two or three guineas each, owing to the
wretched condition of the poor animals. Councillor Lade, in his Turf
transactions as elsewhere, was so consistently parsimonious even to
those whom it would have been good policy to conciliate that every
man's hand was against him, even that of his own servants.
One of his manias was to run his horses as much as possible at race
meetings near his home, in order to avoid the expenses of travelling.
The years 1797 and 1798 were the most prosperous of his Turf career.
Seven of his horses went to the post for twenty-four plates and purses,
of which Truss, Will, and Grey Pilot won seven fifties--two at Ascot,
two at Abingdon, and one each at Reading, Winchester, and Stockbridge.
Councillor Lade was in himself a singular and unsociable man, seldom
seen in company, upon the race-course or elsewhere. Cynically cold
and innately parsimonious, few cared to sojourn beneath what might be
justly termed, in more senses than one, a habitation without a roof.
Hospitality was alien to the spirit of Cannon Park, and the building
itself was one entire mass of chilling frigidity which betokened
a total lack of good cheer. The owner was constantly involved in
pecuniary disputes and lawsuits with his dependents, in which he was
usually worsted.
It was not infrequently his practice to drive his curricle and greys
without a servant the fifty-seven miles to Cannon Park, not even taking
them once out of the harness; a handful of hay, and two or three
quarts of water at Salt Hill, and Spratley's, the Bear, at Reading,
in addition to the turnpikes, constituted the entire expense of the
journey, it being an irrevocable opinion of his that servants on the
road were more troublesome and expensive than their masters.
The Councillor was married to a lady of excellent family, who, owing
to mental trouble, lived in seclusion. This, however, did not trouble
him much, for he took care to make up for the lack of a wife's society
by a profusion of female friends, who enlivened his elegant house in
Pall Mall, his rural cottage near Turnham Green, and even his unadorned
inhospitable mansion at Cannon Park.
Another unpleasant Turf character about this date was "Louse Pigott,"
a man of good Shropshire family. The slovenly manner of dressing and
general unkempt appearance of this gentleman had obtained for him his
unsavoury nickname. He had originally been possessed of some wealth,
but going racing soon lost practically his whole fortune. Devoid
of means, and prompted apparently by the same spirit which induces
unsuccessful modern gamblers at Monte Carlo to apply to the authorities
for a sum sufficient to enable them to leave the Principality
of Monaco, Mr. Pigott conceived the original idea of making
representations to the Jockey Club, with a view to receiving pecuniary
aid. Needless to say his petition was treated with a complete lack of
consideration which, it was said, so enraged him that in revenge he
wrote the libellous work called _The Jockey Club_, a volume of short
but scandalous biographies of persons well known in the sporting
world. Though Pigott appears to have escaped punishment for this, the
publishers, Messrs. Ridgway & Symonds, were incarcerated in Newgate.
"Louse Pigott" appears to have been an eccentric character in many
ways, for one September evening in 1793 he got into great trouble at
the London Coffee-House, Ludgate Hill, where, sitting with a friend,
Dr. William Hodgson, he became very vociferous in giving toasts of
a disloyal kind, finally loudly proposing success to the "French
Republic." This was immediately resented by a gentleman present, who,
rising to his feet, proposed "The King," a toast which was drunk with
cheers by all present except Pigott and his companion, who made use
of such improper expressions that peace officers were sent for, who
removed the apostles of revolution to the lock-up.
The next morning they were charged with drinking "the French
Republic and the overthrow of the present system of Government and
all Governments of Europe except the French; likewise of speaking
disrespectfully of the King, the Duke of York, Lord Mayor, and other
persons in high authority. They had," it was deposed, "called the
Prince of Hesse a swine-dealer, and Ministers in general robbers and
highwaymen." Finally, when being conveyed to the cells, they had
shouted from the coach windows, "The French Republic, and Liberty while
you live."
Being unable to find bail, the two prisoners were sent back to prison,
to remain there till tried at the ensuing Old Bailey Sessions. The
bill preferred against Pigott, however, was eventually thrown out
and he was discharged. The general comment upon his release was that
"he who is born to be hanged will never be drowned," and vice versa.
His companion, Dr. Hodgson, was less fortunate, and received some
punishment for the advanced sentiments which he had uttered.
Probably the shrewdest nobleman who ever went racing was the eccentric
but highly astute "Old Q." At the time when he owned race-horses he
was generally hand-in-hand with his jockey, Dick Goodison, with whom
he had a perfect understanding. During a lengthy connection with the
Turf, "Old Q." never displayed the least want of philosophy upon the
unexpected result of a race. As a matter of fact he never entered into
an engagement but where there was a great probability of his becoming
the winner. In all emergencies his Grace preserved an invariable
equanimity, and his cool serenity never forsook him, even in moments
of the greatest surprise or disappointment. A singular proof of this
occurred at Newmarket just as the horses were about to start for a
sweepstakes. His Grace was engaged in a betting conversation with
various members of the Jockey Club, when one of his lads, who was
going to ride (in consequence of his light weight), tactlessly called
him aside, asked him, too soon and too loud, How he was to ride that
day? Perfectly convinced this had been overheard, his Grace, with
well-affected surprise, exclaimed, "Why, take the lead and keep it to
be sure! How the devil would you ride?"
Matches were a great feature of the period, and very large sums
were staked. An historic match was that between Sir Harry Vane's
Hambletonian and Mr. Cookson's Diamond for three thousand guineas, run
over the Beacon Course during the Newmarket Craven meeting of 1799.
Hambletonian, who was ridden by Buckle, carried eight stone three
pounds, and Diamond, ridden by Dennis Fitzpatrick (Deny), eight stone;
the betting was five to four on Hambletonian.
Though both gallant steeds have now long since mouldered into dust,
together with the gay company of sportsmen who assembled to see them
run, the memory of their desperate neck-and-neck struggle over that
terrible last half-mile is not forgotten, and will ever shine amongst
the chronicles of equine fame as the most sporting and gamely contested
match of all time.
Hambletonian, a bright bay and a grandson of Eclipse, was a wonderful
horse. He was only once beaten, at the York August meeting 1797, when
he ran against Deserter and Spread Eagle, and took it into his head to
bolt out of the course and leap a ditch.
Diamond, a beautiful brown bay, smaller than Hambletonian, was got by
Highflyer. He was the more compact horse of the two.
Hambletonian being a Yorkshire bred horse, the Yorkshiremen backed
him for prodigious sums, whilst Diamond was strongly supported by the
Newmarket people, the horse being well-known in the neighbourhood.
Every bed in Newmarket (which could not hold a tenth of the visitors)
was occupied, whilst Cambridge and all the towns and villages within
twelve or fifteen miles were also thronged with people. Stabling was
not to be had, and no chaise or horse could be procured on any of the
roads, all having been engaged three weeks before.
The weather was most auspicious, and the general scene on the Heath
highly interesting and attractive. All the gentlemen of the Turf, as
the phrase ran, from the neighbouring counties were collected on the
course, and many of the nobility of England, which was then a real and
powerful nobility, including the Duchess of Gordon, were assembled to
see the race.
At the start the horses kept tolerably close, Hambletonian retaining
the lead till the last half-mile, when Diamond got abreast of him.
The two horses then raced home in a most desperate manner, the nose
of one or the other being alternately in front till Hambletonian won
in the last stride. Both horses were terribly whipped and spurred,
particularly Hambletonian. The four miles one furlong and one hundred
and thirty-eight yards were covered in about eight minutes and a half.
Every one declared that this match was the most exciting ever known,
and it was acknowledged even by the losers (who were described as being
as much pleased as losers could be) to have been thoroughly fairly
contested, each jockey having made the best of his horse.
As soon as the race was over, Sir Harry Vane Tempest, who, besides the
stakes, had won about three thousand guineas, declared on the course
that Hambletonian should be taken out of training the next morning,
and in future he would ride him only as a hack. Sir Harry afterwards
travelled to town in a post-chaise and four, and arrived at the Cocoa
Tree at half-past eleven at night. The news of his victory, however,
was already known, Mr. Hall, of Moorfields, who had three horses on the
road, having got to town between nine and ten.
A bronze penny token of fine medallic design--now very
scarce--commemorates this famous match. An inscription is on one side
and a picture of the race on the other.
Mr. Cookson, the owner of Diamond, did not lose any enormous sum over
the race. He was well-known for his shrewdness, and in one year, 1798,
is said to have realised nearly £60,000 by the victories of Ambrosia
and Diamond.
Hambletonian became the sire of over a hundred and forty winners.
Another match between Diamond and Mr. R. Heathcote's Warter strongly
excited the sporting world, which was much puzzled how to bet. Warter
having beat Diamond in the Oatland stakes of 1800, the latter was to
receive seven pounds in the projected race. This, according to the
knowing ones, was an advantage of the utmost importance, and Diamond
became a strong favourite, his backers flattering themselves with the
opinion that one of Warter's legs would fail him in running, and that
consequently they were on the right side. Till about a fortnight before
the meeting betting was equal; six to four was then betted in favour of
Diamond, and was at first very cautiously accepted.
So highly was the gambling mania roused that, till a late hour on
the Saturday night previous to the meeting, all the sporting houses
near St. James's, and even more to the eastward, were crowded with
betting-men of every description. The bolder sort dashed at the odds,
whilst others more cautiously hedged, and all waited the event with the
most anxious expectation.
The whole of Sunday the Newmarket road was crowded with carriages and
cattle of every description, from the dashing curricle to the humble
buggy, and from the pampered hunter to the spavined hack.
When every mouth was opening to bet, and expectation was on tiptoe, it
was declared in the Coffee-room, that Warter, by reason of a kick, had
declared forfeit, and the famous match was off.
Another match, which excited enormous interest at the beginning of
the nineteenth century, was that between Mrs. Thornton, wife of the
celebrated Colonel Thornton of Thornville Royal (now Studley Royal, the
seat of Lord Ripon), and a gentleman well known in sporting circles,
Mr. Flint by name. This was run at York in 1804, and is memorable
as being the only race chronicled in the _Racing Calendar_ in which
a woman's name is mentioned. The entry, dated August 25, 1804, runs
thus:--
Mr. Flint's Brown Thornville by Volunteer out of Abigail, aged, rode
by the owner, beat Colonel Thornton's ch. h. Vinagrillio, aged, rode
by Mrs. Thornton, four miles, five hundred guineas.
The weights were catch weights, and before the race five and six to
four were laid upon the lady, which increased during the early portion
of the race to seven to four and two to one, it seeming likely during
the first three miles that Mrs. Thornton would secure an easy triumph.
During the final mile, however, things entirely changed, and the
victory of Mr. Flint appearing certain, odds were laid upon him. Over
two hundred thousand pounds, it is said, were lost and won over this
race, which excited a vast amount of interest. The lady's horse, it may
be added, was a very old one.
Mrs. Thornton's dress was a leopard-coloured body with blue sleeves,
the rest buff, and blue cap. Mr. Flint rode in white. The race was run
in nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. In the published account of the
race it is stated that "No words can express the disappointment felt
at the defeat of Mrs. Thornton, the spirit she displayed and the good
humour with which she has borne her loss having greatly diminished the
joy of many of the winners."
The fortunate individuals in question seem, however, to have been under
some misapprehension as to the lady's equanimity under defeat, as she
subsequently sent an angry letter to the _York Herald_ complaining that
she had been treated with scant courtesy.
Though the lady signed herself Alicia Thornton she seems to have had no
legitimate claim to the name--she was a Miss Meynell, and her sister
was by way of being the wife of Mr. Flint. The race engendered much
ill-feeling between the two couples.
The year after the race on the Knavesmire a fracas occurred between
Colonel Thornton and Mr. Flint, the latter being very indignant at not
having received £1000 of the £1500 wagered by the gallant Colonel on
his wife's success. Mr. Flint vigorously applied a new horsewhip to
the soldier's shoulders. The aggressor was taken into custody, Colonel
Thornton afterwards making an application in the Court of King's
Bench for leave to file a criminal information against Flint, who (he
deposed) had challenged him to fight a duel, and horse-whipped
him on the race-ground at York. The Colonel maintained that the bet
of £1000 was a mere nominal thing, intended to attract people to
the race-course, and that it was understood that only £500 of the
£1500 should be paid. The case was eventually dismissed, the Colonel
apparently sticking to his £1000.
[Illustration: _Mrs Thornton._
_Pub. Feb 1, 1805, by J. Wheble, Warwicksquare._]
In after-life Flint became miserably poor, and eked out a living as a
manager of a horse bazaar at York. He eventually committed suicide by
taking a dose of prussic acid.
At the York August meeting in the following year Mrs. Thornton rode
another match against Buckle, the celebrated jockey. Mrs. Thornton,
in the highest spirits, appeared dressed for the contest in a purple
cap and waistcoat, long nankeen-coloured skirts, purple shoes, and
embroidered stockings. Buckle was dressed in a blue cap, with blue
bodied jacket, and white sleeves. Mrs. Thornton carried 9 st. 6 lb.,
Mr Buckle 13 st. 6 lb. At half-past three they started. Mrs. Thornton
took the lead, which she kept for some time; Buckle then exercised
his jockeyship, and took the lead, which he retained for only a few
lengths, when Mrs. Thornton won her race by half a neck. On this
occasion Mrs. Thornton rode Louisa, by Pegasus, out of Nelly; and
Buckle rode Allegro, by Pegasus, out of Allegranti's dam.
As the English Turf began to rise in importance some attempt was made
to introduce racing into France. As early as the reign of Louis XV. a
number of the French nobility had frequented Newmarket. The well-known
sportsman, Hugo Meynell, much resented this, and grimly declared that
he wished the peace was all over and England comfortably at war again.
A particularly unpopular visitor was the Comte de Lauraguais, who
purchased the celebrated race-horse, Gimcrack, took him over to France,
and for a big bet ran him twenty-two and a half miles, it is said,
within an hour.
At the end of the eighteenth century Philippe Égalité raced at
Newmarket, where he seems to have created an unfavourable impression.
Though he entered a good many horses, he was not particularly
successful as an owner. In France the sporting exploits of this Prince
and of the Comte d'Artois excited a good deal of indignation. They were
declared to be the associates of grooms, and to enter into scandalous
combinations in the races which they organised, whilst treating the
onlookers with the most ineffable contempt and savage ferocity. It
would certainly appear that at times they used their whips on the
spectators as well as on their horses; and not only encouraged the
officers to maltreat the crowd, but employed such grossness of speech,
and offensive oaths, as showed that these Princes were not unskilled
in the language of the vilest part of the nation. High betting was
general, and noblemen turned jockeys and rode their own racers. When
the Comte de Lauraguais appeared at Court, after a long absence, the
King coldly inquired where he had been for so long. "In England," the
Count replied. "What did you do there?" "I learnt there, please your
Majesty, to think." "Of horses," retorted the King.
The early days of the French Turf were unedifying. In a match between
the Duc de Lauzun and M. de Fénelon the latter fell from his horse,
broke his arm, and lost his wager. The same gentleman betted with
another nobleman as to which of them could reach Versailles and return
to Paris the quicker in a single-horse chaise. The horse of the first
died at Sèvres, and the other expired in the stable at Paris, a few
hours after his return.
Frivolous courtiers, not satisfied with exercising their inhumanity
on their horses, exposed themselves to the derision of Paris by
other kinds of races. The Duc de Chartres, the Duc de Lauzun, and
the Marquis FitzJames once betted five hundred louis who could first
reach Versailles on foot. Lauzun gave up the foot-race about half
way; Chartres about two-thirds; FitzJames arrived in an exhausted
state, and was saluted as conqueror by the Comte d'Artois. The hero in
question was near expiring in the arms of victory and had to be put
to bed. Blood-letting was resorted to, and though he won his wager he
contracted asthma.
Marie Antoinette, not satisfied with foot and horse racing, instituted
contests of speed in which donkeys were bestridden, the successful
jockey being rewarded with three hundred livres and a golden thistle.
During the first Empire, Napoleon, probably with an eye to the horsing
of his cavalry, decreed that there should be races, and races of a sort
there were, chiefly in the Department of the Orne and at a hippodrome
at Le Pin, the seat of a Government stud established by Colbert in the
days of the Roi Soleil.
After the restoration of the Bourbons, racing was intermittently
carried on at Vincennes, at Fontainebleau, in the Champs de Mars,
and at Satory-Versailles, which were the chief places of racing near
Paris. The ground at both was detestable. At Satory-Versailles, in
wet weather, the course was so deep in mud that the horses could
hardly move. At the Champs de Mars the ground was often "so hard as to
endanger the strongest legs," and "when the horses galloped the jockeys
were liable to be blinded by a cloud of dust and small pebbles." As a
matter of fact the races were more often than not won by the mounted
gendarmes, who rode with the horses from start to finish.
In the early days of the French Turf the fields were, of course,
small, and so was the value of the prizes. For this reason, in order
to eke out a fair number of races with very few horses, the practice
of running races in "heats" was grossly abused. In 1840, Madame
de Giraudin wrote: "The races on Sunday were favoured with superb
weather, and the extraordinary sight was seen of nine horses running
together--nine live horses, nine rivals--a rare spectacle in the
Champs de Mars. Generally one horse runs all alone, contending against
no opponent, and always coming in first. But this does not signify; it
excites the admiration of those who love sport, and especially of the
philosophers among them; it is so noble to strive against and overcome
oneself!"
The foundation of the French Turf as we see it to-day dates back to
1833, when the French Jockey Club was founded.
Before this there had existed in the Rue Blanche an English Jockey
and Pigeon Shooting Club founded by a Mr. Thomas Bryon, who acted
as secretary. In 1830, of the eighteen members, four were English,
including that very original character. Lord Henry Seymour, and in
course of time he took a leading part in originating a Members' Club,
which should resemble the English Jockey Club, and should be lodged in
a luxurious Club-house.