"The turf is so beset with knaves that when you go racing you are
robbed when you least expect to be robbed, and that too by men whom you
would least expect to rob you."
So wrote a racing commentator sixty years since, and the same sentence
might be written to-day, with a still greater chance of hitting the
nail on its head. When, half a century ago, some isolated case of
turf fraud of a high degree of enormity became public, a prodigious
outcry was raised regarding the circumstance--as would doubtless be
done to-day--by a section of turfites, much indignation being usually
expressed, especially by those not "in the swim"; but to-day racing
rogueries are too numerous, too varied, too much a matter of course
to attract much attention, and for this among other reasons, namely,
that "they all do it." It may well be said as regards the turf and its
surroundings, "Let him who is among you without sin cast the first
stone."
Happily, there almost never falls nowadays to be chronicled any vulgar
or pronounced frauds--these seldom become public. He would prove
himself but a poor hand in turf chicanery who would so act as to be
"found out," who would venture, for instance, to instruct a jockey
to "pull" his horse, when the animal could be so "doctored" before
leaving the stable as to render its chance hopeless. As a general
rule, a pailful of water will "do the trick," although, as a once
popular trainer, now deceased, was heard to say at Newcastle-on-Tyne,
"sometimes even two pails won't stop the beggars from winning." At all
events, when it has been determined by interested parties that a horse
shall run to lose a race it has been entered for--and such arrangements
are common enough--nothing is easier than to make sure that it shall do
so, and that the horse selected, in the event of the public fancying
him, shall be made a market horse, and be "milked" for the benefit of
those interested: the losing of a race may at any time be ensured, and
there are scores of "turf dairymen" who are reputed adepts in the use
of the milking pail.
There is no other business, perhaps, which offers so many opportunities
for successful fraud as horse-racing, and that for the best of all
reasons: the chicanery that is prevalent does not render those who
practise it amenable to the criminal law, turf crimes being without the
pale of legal action. When, therefore, the owner of a horse, looking
ahead, conspires with a bookmaker or other confederate to deceive the
public by entering an animal for a race which it is not intended the
horse shall win, it is not the interest of either to say a word to
outsiders about the arrangement, while those whose bad fortune it is to
be deceived are without legal remedy. Persons foolish enough to make
bets in the hope that a given horse may win a given event must suffer
the consequences if the animal has been all along a market horse:
bettors in such a case have only themselves to blame for getting on
a "wrong one." Happily, no one can be compelled to bet, and if those
who do so miss the mark, one person has cause to rejoice--he is the
bookmaker.
These gentlemen (the bookmakers), especially those of them engaged
in extensive ways of business, are, it has been often affirmed, but
such statements must be accepted with reserve, able to manage any
kind of turf chicanery--money on the turf, as everywhere else, being
pretty well omnipotent; and therefore, it has been said, should one of
the fraternity find he is likely to lose £10,000 by the victory of a
particular animal in a given race, he thinks it well worth his while
(and no sin) to part with a few hundred pounds to have the animal
made safe, an operation that, as has been hinted, can be achieved in
various ways. Such turf rogueries are more frequent than is supposed
by the general public. Many a race that, before being run, was deemed
a certainty for a particular animal, has resulted in a surprise that
would not have proved so had the truth been made manifest by a recital
of its private history. At one time it was no unusual circumstance
for an animal which had become favourite for a particular race to
be prevented from winning by violent means. It was what is called
"nobbled" or "got at" by some person hired for the purpose, or it might
be lamed by the farrier, or perhaps poisoned by a stable attendant, or
in other ways rendered _hors de combat_, to the deep chagrin in many
instances of owner and trainer.
Such modes of dealing with race-horses are now seldom resorted to, but
frauds of a more subtle kind are common enough. "Nobbling" of a rude
description is a very dangerous game, which requires confederates to
ensure a successful issue; and a first-rate training stable is usually
subjected to such careful watching, especially when it contains a
horse of celebrity, that strangers as a rule cannot obtain access to
it, and for a stableman to betray his trust is dangerous--ruin would
assuredly follow the discovery of such a breach of confidence. But, as
an old-time hanger-on of one of the Newmarket hotels was wont to say,
"it's all along o' the money; them tenners and fivers is at the bottom
of all them there swindles; there's men about here as would kill a hoss
right out for a couple o' ponies."
The magnitude of the sums betted against particular horses gives rise
to temptation. Certain bookmakers will lay from ten to twenty-five, or
even forty thousand pounds upon occasion, against each of half-a-dozen
horses entered to run in an important handicap, and if the one or two
of these animals which appear most likely to win the race can--if they
have been well backed--in some way be rendered unfit to run, so much
the better for those who have laid the odds. Under such circumstances,
a horse has sometimes been bought on behalf of a bookmaker and his
confederates, so that its losing the race may be made certain. Backers,
unaware of the sale, continue to "fancy" it, till the transaction
becomes profitable to the purchaser, who keeps the animal well to
the front in the market, and continues personally, and by the aid of
confederates, to bet heavily against its chance. Such transactions
often prove excellent bargains. For a bookmaker, or clique of
bookmakers, to purchase for a thousand or even sixteen hundred pounds
a horse, against the chance of which to win they may have betted as
many thousands, is good business; true, that particular animal might
not have proved the winner, but, being dangerous, his removal out of
the way if possible was deemed prudent. Some may say that the bookmaker
having laid against all or most of the other horses in the race, he
will have plenty of money to clear his liabilities, no matter which
animal may win; but bookmakers, being prudent men, like to make matters
as certain as possible. Men are known who have had a finger in such
pies; names cannot, however, be mentioned here, and there are persons
engaged in laying the odds who would not individually do a very dirty
action, but even the most respectable bookmakers make no bones about
laying a "stiff one."