Betting on greyhound coursing, especially in connection with the
struggle for the Waterloo Cup, run for amid the distraction and ditches
of Altcar, is assumed to be gambling _in excelsis_. When a person backs
a horse for a race, the event is decided, so to speak, in an instant;
there may of course be a dead heat, but dead heats are sufficiently
rare, and need not be calculated upon. When a man bets on the Derby, he
is delivered from all suspense within three or four minutes after the
fall of the starter's flag. But it is not so in the case of the dogs.
On the average of the courses decided at Altcar, a brace of greyhounds
will keep the bettor in suspense for six minutes or so, and when it
is considered, in the case of a stake in which sixty-four dogs take
part, six races must be run before the backer of a dog to win the Cup
can receive his money, it will be sufficiently obvious that very long
odds ought to be obtained against those dogs which take part in the
struggle. Such, however, as a rule, is not the case, and sanguine men
have been known to accept odds against a dog which had six races to
run, which they would have indignantly refused against a horse which
had only to run once to win or lose them their money. In the case of
one Waterloo Cup the winning dog actually ran eight times before it was
declared to be entitled to the Blue Ribbon of the leash. What, then,
it will be asked, by those who are unfamiliar with the incidents of
coursing, are the rate of odds given and taken on such occasions? And
if the odds offered are false, what are the figures which would really
represent the true chances of the animals competing in a Waterloo Cup
sixty-four?
Some questions, as all the world is aware, are much easier to ask than
to answer, and the question just formulated is one of them. If the
_form_ of the sixty-four dogs which are nominated for the Waterloo
Cup was utterly unknown, the price of each could only, of course, be
represented at what may be called a very long figure--say, for the sake
of even counting, 100 to 1--and when the first round of the struggle
was finished, and thirty-two of the dogs defeated, the odds, even in
that case, against the thirty-two survivors of the first act of the
battle should still be considerable, five rounds of the battle having
yet to be contested. But as the form of the dogs had become known from
what they had accomplished in the first course, it is vain to expect
that 40 to 1 will be offered by any of the bookmakers--although it is
fully that sum, and much more, against half the number--because as the
event proceeds sixteen of the dogs must be beaten, and so on to the end
of the stake; the sixteen victors will in time be reduced to eight,
four, two, and one. The task which is originally set before the bettor
on the Waterloo Cup is, as a matter of fact, to select out of a pack
of sixty-four dogs that one which will in the end be declared victor,
and it is assuredly no easy task even to persons who are familiar with
the previous performances of the animals. In dog races as in horse
races, the favourite sometimes wins--and the Waterloo Cup has been
taken more than once by the same animal--the winner on the second
occasion starting at pretty short odds. Master McGrath, a dog belonging
to the late Lord Lurgan, won the Cup three times, whilst the successes
of Fullerton have been recently chronicled.
It is impossible to tell what may happen to dogs in such a struggle as
the Waterloo Cup. Some which have previously shown good form in other
coursing matches, even on the same ground, prove worthless while the
battle of Waterloo is being fought, going down before, perhaps, a foe
of no fame in the very first round. Even the very best greyhound must
have good fortune on its side to achieve such a victory; it must, too,
be in the best of health, it must get well away from slips, and be
slipped against a lively hare, and then it must do all it knows to beat
its opponent. A judge is appointed at all coursing meetings in order to
decide which is the best dog in every pair that is slipped. He judges
after a given fashion by awarding to the runners the "points" which
they make, the dog which makes the greatest number being declared the
winner of the course.
To those who are not "up" in the mysteries of coursing a brief
explanation of the mode of judging may be given. Great powers are
invested in the judge; what he says is law, and from his decision
there is no appeal. The brace of dogs being in the slips are let loose
by the slipper "at" a hare, which he runs them on to, so that they
may see it. The speediest dog from the slips will receive one, two,
or three marks, as the judge may determine, the number given being
dependent on the opinion he may form of the race. For a "go-bye,"
the judge may award two or even three points. A "go-bye" is when a
greyhound starts a clear length behind his companion, then passes him
and gets a length in front. For turning the hare one point is given;
for a "wrench," which means diverting the hare from its course at less
than a right angle, half a point is awarded. For a "trip"--a trip is an
unsuccessful effort to kill the hare on the part of the dog--one point
is given by the judge. The killing of the hare obtains two points if
it prove a very meritorious one. To the dog which, in its course, is
awarded a majority of these marks the victory is given.
Critics and tipsters who attempt a week or ten days before the battle
begins to point out the victor have a rather hard task set them, but
on some occasions the winner is "spotted" with wonderful precision.
As a matter of course, in dog prophecy as in predicting winners of
horse-races, the tipsters either "follow the money" or depend on
"public form" to pull them through.
Great complaints have been made in various quarters about the chicanery
which in some years has been associated with the Waterloo Cup. Certain
members of the committee are very jealous of the honour of this great
coursing match being kept as free from any stain as possible; but
those who have carefully studied the incidents of the great Altcar
gathering are perfectly convinced that there is in connection with
it, to designate it mildly, a good deal of "finessing": and a large
amount of the gambling element has long been a most prominent feature
of the meeting. In some years plenty of wagering takes place. The
Waterloo Cup being set for decision at a season of the year when much
horse-racing cannot take place, and when betting on horse-racing is not
at all brisk, commands the speculation of the moment, and gives rise in
consequence to a vast amount of gambling. As a popular writer on the
turf says, the dogs give occasion for "one of the biggest gambles of
the season."
So long as the Cup is constituted as at present, this game of
speculation will continue. The gentlemen who have subscribed to the
stake do not require to nominate the dog they intend to run till the
evening preceding the first day of contest. It is obvious, therefore,
that by this plan of procedure there is room for any amount of
"manœuvring," and that a nomination may be backed to win perhaps
£20,000 at pretty long odds, while in the end a dog may be named
to fill it which, had its name been known, would have caused the
nomination in which it was to run to become first favourite. This will
be better explained by imagining that the present year's winner will
be able to run again next year; if so, and the nomination in which it
is to run be made public, it will assuredly be backed at a very short
price, say 7 or 8 to 1, long before the night of the draw; indeed, the
moment betting begins, which is usually about the middle of January
or earlier, it will figure in all the lists as "first favourite." But
supposing the dog were next year to belong to a gambling owner, he
would never be a party to its running at any such odds as has been
indicated; he would want most likely, for the benefit of himself and
friends, to back the animal to win some £20,000, and the longer the
odds he could obtain the less risk he would have of losing money;
therefore, he looks about him to find some gentleman possessed of a
nomination but without a dog good enough to run in such an important
stake as the Waterloo Cup. That gentleman's nomination may be quoted in
the public betting at 50 or 66 to 1, so that if it can be arranged that
he shall run the dog, a large sum of money may be won (in the event of
victory) at excellent odds as prices are now arranged.
This sort of thing has occasionally taken place, some of the tactics
employed being scandalous enough; but where there is gambling there
must in time be scandal. Large sums change hands over this great dog
contest, because, in addition to the "long odds" against a dog winning
the stake right out, there is an immensity of speculation on every
separate course, when the "short odds" are taken against one dog
beating the one which goes to slips with it. Probably there will be
five or six thousand persons present at the contest busy betting on
every course, and in this way, in the course of the three days during
which the battle wages, many thousand pounds will certainly change
hands.
Prizes are provided for the thirty-two dogs which are beaten in the
first round of the Cup; these are the Purse and Plate, on which
(locally) a vast amount of betting also takes place. No calculation
of the amount of money which changes hands or is betted on the great
Altcar contest has ever been made. It has, however, been more than once
publicly stated that a Waterloo dog can be, and has been, backed to win
a sum of £40,000 for behoof of its owner and his friends and followers,
while it is often enough the case that dogs hailing from some populous
locality, dogs which have a name, are entrusted with the sovereigns
of four or five thousand persons. It would be no exaggeration to
say, generally, of the Waterloo Cup that probably a dozen out of the
sixty-four dogs nominated will be backed on the average to win (at
the long odds) £25,000 each, whilst ten may be entrusted with the
odds to win some £10,000, making for these dogs a sum of £400,000,
which has been laid at various rates of odds, and it may be taken that
the other forty-two dogs will be backed before the contest is over
to win £100,000. Only one dog, of course, can win, so that as a rule
bookmakers should be largely in pocket, especially when most of the
favourites are beaten in the first round--no improbable event; other
animals then come into prominence and are heavily backed. A provincial
bookmaker, who never betted to more than pound stakes, told the writer
that on the first two days of Snowflight's year (1882) he gained a
clear profit of £279, and being quite pleased, stopped business and
contented himself the last day with looking on at the gambling of
others, and so making his visit to Altcar a profitable and pleasant
holiday.
Two thousand people, it is averred, will each bet, on the average,
£1 over every course which is run at Altcar, which, on the Cup
alone, would represent in stakes alone a sum of over £125,000. These
figures--they are but rough calculations at their best--may be taken
for what they are worth, as affording an index of the gambling which is
incidental to the modern "Battle of Waterloo."
Apropos to the name "Waterloo" Cup, it may be mentioned that it is not
at all of heroic origin; as a matter of fact, the stake originated in
the Waterloo Hotel, at Liverpool, which has long since disappeared, its
site being included in the buildings of the central station. This hotel
was in its day a hostelry of some degree of fame and a choice resort
of the coursing fraternity. In that house, then, in the year 1835 the
stake was originated, and run for in the following spring for the first
time, eight dogs only taking part in the contest, the winner being
Melanie, a dog belonging to Mr. Lynn, the landlord of the house. Such
was the origin of the present great Altcar contest. At first an eight
dog stake, it speedily became one for sixteen and then for thirty-two
greyhounds. In 1857 the Waterloo Cup reached its present dimensions,
and has ever since continued a sixty-four dog stake.