"Working the oracle," with intent to make a grand _coup_, is work which
requires to be gone about with judgment; but in a race where twenty
or more stables are represented it is difficult to ensure success,
there being always somebody interested who _will_ be obstinate, or
who demands too large a share of the spoil, or insists upon some
impossible condition. When the Mr. Smooth of such an enterprise has
made some progress in his negotiations, he often enough finds himself
face to face with the representative of another clique engaged in the
same business; it is not, indeed, the first time that three distinct
syndicates have come into collision, each fancying itself to hold the
winning card. Which is to give way to the other so as to make the race
a certainty for a given horse comes in at the end to be a matter for
much argument and delicate handling. At their respective weights it
may look a very near thing for each of three or four horses, and as an
owner naturally fancies his own horse most, he is usually reluctant to
swim in with any other person or clique, unless he becomes of opinion
that the doing so presents a certainty of the horse winning.
"In the matter of arranging a handicap," said a gentleman of much
experience to the writer, "my arguments are simple enough. I put the
case this way. By agreeing among ourselves we can land a first-rate
stake, say sixty thousand; well, that is twenty thousand for each of us
when so far as I can see we have a certainty. Is it not better, then,
to co-operate? There will be other races, and a horse will keep. Why
oppose each other when, by working as one man, we can land the sum I
have named?"
It has occurred before now that a horse which has been, so to
speak, left out in the cold on the occasion of an "arrangement,"
has ultimately proved the best animal. Such rehearsals as have been
pictured used to be common, and still take place.
"What a splendid field there is!" said one gentleman to another, a year
or two ago, as a start was being effected for the Haymarket Handicap.
"Yes," was the reply, "no less, I see, than fifteen. What a pity that
three only of the lot are trying!"
Great blunders are sometimes made by men who have horses in handicaps.
However good a horse may be, and however long the animal may have been
kept with a view to a grand _coup_ it may be found when the weights
are published that it is not given such a good chance as that supposed
to be conferred on some other animal, the result being that the owner
does not accept, and probably, to his great chagrin, finds his rival
also among the non-contents, his rival having been imbued with similar
fears. At other times a lot of horses do not accept because "something"
has been "thrown in" at a feather weight which everybody thinks cannot
possibly be beaten, although in the end that something runs nearly
last, Ruperra to wit, in the Royal Hunt Cup of 1880. Many a time and
oft a horse not believed to possess any merit wins an important race,
and owners and trainers alike find again and again, to use the words
of the Scottish poet, that "the best laid schemes of mice and men gang
aft agley."
While perusing these remarks it should be kept in mind that there
are not a few gentlemen on the turf who decline to take part in such
schemes as have been indicated, but run their horses fair and square,
so far as they can control them. Their trainers, however, may not
always be quite so scrupulous. The "arrangements" referred to, it ought
to be remembered, involve such an amount of chicanery, that the aid
of one or two bookmakers must be called in, the doing so, of course,
involving the making of certain concessions to these worthies. The
knowledge thus acquired by such persons is at once used against the
public, the betting public, who soon discover that their mission is to
pay the piper. The main object of what is done in the way of planning
and scheming is to secure, at the least possible risk, a large haul of
money over a race, and, to accomplish this, all matters must be gone
about with the utmost care and secrecy. To achieve such a consummation
is the reason why not a few owners of horses place themselves entirely
in the hands of some Dudley Smooth of the turf. The first advice given
by such a person is, "Accept with your whole string of horses, we will
need them all." As the business of arrangement progresses, each of the
unintended animals is made in turn to benefit the bookmaker by being
brought into the betting and quoted in "the market." The gullible
public, unaware of what is being done, back all the horses in turn, so
that those interested obtain a pretty good sum out of the "stiff ones,"
as they are called. When the public at length waken up to the fact
that a commission has been executed for a particular horse, they rush
pell-mell to follow the lead, and in consequence the animal is speedily
quoted at a price that will admit of splendid hedging, and in working a
grand _coup_ it is generally deemed prudent to hedge.
Gentlemen who race from their love of sport, or for the honour of the
turf, do not, as has been hinted, recognise such doings as it is the
mission of Mr. Smooth to carry out. When they find, after a trial with
some horse of their own or one borrowed from a friend, that they have
no chance of winning the race for which the horse has been entered,
they at once strike it out of that race--"scratch it" is the usual
phrase employed--so that the public may not be induced to back it. On
the other hand, there are owners who never scratch their horses unless
they find their intention of backing them anticipated by the public.
In such cases, finding they cannot back the animal at their own price,
they teach indiscriminate backers a lesson by withdrawing it from the
race. It has become a debatable point in the ethics of horse-racing
whether the owner of a horse, having once entered it in a public race,
should withdraw it from participation in that race from not being able
to back it on his own terms, because of Tom, Dick, and Harry having
been more active than he has been in dealing with the bookmakers,
and so forestalling him in the market. There are certain horses in
every race which the public _will_ not be withheld from backing; they
are estimated on a review of their previous form to have such a fine
chance, that no sooner is their weight for any given handicap made
known, than the public are quick to take all the long shots, leaving
the owner--what is left.
It is most provoking, no doubt, for the owner of a likely horse to
find himself compelled to put up with the skimmed milk of the market,
persons utterly unknown to him having secured the cream. No wonder the
owner, on receiving such provocation, works himself into a passion; no
wonder the fiat of "scratch my horse" is at once issued. What though
the act be productive of something like a sensation? A notification
that "the favourite is scratched" brings curses loud and deep on
the head of its owner. But probably he has become callous to public
opinion--his argument is: "The horse is mine own to do with whatever I
please; I bought him; I pay for his corn and hay; I find the fees of
the jockeys by whom he is ridden; I pay all travelling expenses and
entry moneys, and therefore I shall do in the matter as I think proper."
These are strong arguments undoubtedly, and well put, but they all
point in the direction of gambling. And that being so, there arises
another side to the story, which may be placed before the reader in
the following words. In reality it is the general public who provide
the money which the bookmakers lay to owners of horses; as some owners
never bet, whilst others bet only to small sums, it is evident,
therefore, that without the aid of the crowns, half-sovereigns, and
pounds of the small bettors it would be impossible for the bookmakers
to deal in those large sums which gentlemen occasionally back their
horses to win. Were only the value of the stake to be run for at
issue, there would be no occasion for striking a horse out of the race
at the eleventh hour, because of its owner being unable to back it.
It is the large amount which can be won in bets that renders men so
mercenary.
Speaking in a theoretical sense, it is undoubtedly more honourable for
a man to strike his horse out of a race at once than to leave it among
the competitors and arrange that it shall not win, which can always
be made certain. The winning of a race even with the best horse in
the world cannot be made sure, but to lose a race can be accomplished
beyond a doubt, and there are even _gentlemen_ on the turf--the more's
the pity--who have not scrupled to lend themselves to such a fraud. It
will be no exaggeration to say that during the course of the year two
or three hundred horses will run to lose in the races that take place,
and if only an average sum of £100 be got out of each--in some cases
the result will be a gain of thousands--it totals up to a large amount.
Much of what is designated by turf critics the "in and out" running of
handicap horses is no doubt due to such practices. One may often read
in the sporting journals that "the running of Mr. So-and-So's horse was
really too bad to be true; and we believe the animal will speedily see
a better day;" which is just a roundabout way of saying the horse was
"pulled," or that in some other way it was arranged the horse should
not win the race. Such phrases of the sporting press are simply a way
of veiling the fact of a fraud having been committed. Happily there are
both owners and trainers who are far above such practices, but that
men are doing such deeds every day is certain.