ROYALTY ON THE TURF
That horse-racing was in vogue, and practised to some extent by the
Saxons, may be deduced from the fact of King Athelstan having received
as a present from Hugh the Great--father of Hugh Capet of
France--several German running-horses, which, it may be presumed, was
considered the most worthy present that could be offered, as it was
accompanied by a proposal for the hand of Athelstan’s sister in
marriage. This monarch’s estimation of the horse was evidently widely
known, and it is recorded how sundry princes sought his alliance and
friendship, sending him “rich presents, precious stones, perfumes, and
the finest horses, with golden furniture.”[90]
A more distinct indication of horse-racing occurs in Fitz-Stephen’s
description of London, where we learn how, in Henry II.’s reign, horses
were exposed for sale in Smithfield, when, to prove their excellence,
they were usually matched against each other. In the reign of Richard I.
horse-racing would seem to have been a common diversion during the
Easter and Whitsuntide holidays, as in the old metrical romance of Sir
Bevis of Southampton, it is thus alluded to:--
“In somer time, at Whitsontyde,
When knights most on horsebacke ryde;
A cours let they make on a daye,
Steedes and palfraye, for to assaye;
Which horse that best may ren,
Three myles the cours was then,
Who that might ryde him shoulde,
Have forty pounds of redy gold.”
In the register of the royal expenditure of King John running-horses are
frequently mentioned--this monarch having been a renowned sportsman,
although there is no evidence to show that he used his running-horses
otherwise than in the sports of the field. Edward II. was a breeder of
horses, and the word “courser,” which is made use of in the Issue Roll
of 37 Edward III., would seem to indicate the race-horse: “To William de
Manton, keeper of the King’s wardrobe, by the hands of Thomas
Spigurnell, keeper of the King’s great horses, in discharge of £119, 6s.
8d., paid to the same Thomas for the purchase of divers horses from the
executors of the will of John, late Bishop of Lincoln, viz., one free
sorrel courser, price 20 marks; one courser spotted with white, price 20
marks; one courser of a roan colour, from Pappenworth, price 20 marks;
one roan-coloured courser, from Tolney, price 20 marks; one brown bay
courser, price 25 marks; one roan courser, from Cranbourn, price £10,
13s. 4d.; one brown bay courser, price £11.”[91]
Henry VIII. was a lover of horses, and it would seem that he obliged men
of position to keep a certain number of them. Thus “archbishops, and
every duke were enjoined in this reign to keep seven trotting stone
horses of fourteen hands in height for the saddle. Clergymen, also, who
possessed a benefice of £100 per annum, or laymen whose wives wore
French hoods, or a bonnet of velvet, were ordered to keep one trotting
stone horse under a penalty of twenty pounds.”[92] And Henry VIII. no
doubt did his best to improve the breed of horses, for he imported some
from Turkey, Naples, Spain, and Flanders. During Queen Elizabeth’s reign
horse-racing was in considerable vogue, although it was not much
patronised by her Majesty, otherwise races would undoubtedly have formed
a part of the pastimes at Kenilworth.
But it is to James I. that horse-racing is principally indebted, for he
not only patronised it, but made it a general and national amusement. To
him is due the credit for attempting the improvement of the English
racer by the crossing of foreign blood, which, although considered at
the time a failure, has proved a success. For this purpose he purchased
for £500--an enormous price in those days--an Arabian, which, according
to the Duke of Newcastle, was of little value, having been easily beaten
by our native horses.[93] It was in this reign that private matches
between gentlemen--then their own jockeys--became very common in
England; and the first public race-meetings appear at Garterley, in
Yorkshire; Croydon, in Surrey; and Theobald’s, on Enfield Chace; the
prize being a golden bell.[94] Although he did not originate the races
at Newmarket, yet the patronage he accorded them led to their being
established permanently there. On the 26th February 1605, James visited
Newmarket, where on that and the following day he knighted several
gentlemen;[95] and the popularity of Newmarket was further enhanced by
his building a house there which was long known as the “King’s House.”
In Nichol’s “Progresses of James I.” will be found some interesting
particulars respecting this monarch’s interest in the turf; from which
it appears that on Thursday, April 3, 1617, he was at Lincoln, where
“was a great horse-race on the Heath for a cupp, where his Majesty was
present, and stood on a scaffold the citie had caused to be set up, and
withall caused the race a quarter of a mile long to be raled and corded
with ropes and hoopes on both sides, whereby the people were kept out,
and the horses that ronned were seen faire.” A few days later the King
was at Durham, and from the same source we learn[96] how “he travelled
from the Castle to Woodham Moor to a horse-race, which was run by the
horses of William Salvin and Master Maddocks, for a gold purse, which
was intended to have been on the 8th of April, but on account of the
King’s coming was put off till the 21st, which match the King saw.” And
again, about two years after this, we are informed how on the 19th March
1619, “there was a horse-race at Newmarket, at which the King tarrying
too long, in his return from Newmarket was forced to put in at an inn at
Whichfordbridge by reason of his being indisposed, and came very late in
the night to Royston.” Prince Henry had a strong attachment to racing as
well as hunting, but he was cut off at an early age.
Charles I. was well inclined towards sports of this kind, but, owing to
the unsettled nature of his reign, horse-racing seems to have fallen
somewhat into abeyance. In the early part of Charles’s reign, however,
horse-races were held in several parts of the country, at some of which
he was present; and that they were no uncommon occurrence at Epsom may
be gathered from Clarendon’s “History of the Rebellion”: “Soon after the
meeting which was held at Guildford, May 18, 1648, to address the two
Houses of Parliament ... a meeting of the Royalists was held on Banstead
Downs, under the pretence of a horse-race, and six hundred horses were
collected and marched off to Reigate.” But we find Sir Edward Harwood
lamenting the scarcity of able horses in the kingdom, “not more than two
thousand being to be found equal to the like number of French horses,”
for which he blames principally racing.
After the Restoration horse-racing was revived and much encouraged by
Charles II., who frequently honoured this pastime with his presence.[97]
Thus, when at Windsor, he appointed races to be run in Datchet Mead, as
also at Newmarket, where his horses were entered in his own name, and
where he rebuilt the decayed palace of his grandfather, James I. Another
popular locality was Burford Downs--since known as Bibury race-course,
so often frequented by George IV. when regent, and to which old
Baskerville alludes in the subjoined doggerel--
“Next for the glory of the place,
Here has been rode many a race;
King Charles the Second I saw here,
But I’ve forgotten in what year;
The Duke of Monmouth here also,
Made his horse to sweat and blow;
Lovelace, Pembroke, and other gallants
Have been venturing here their talents;
And Nicholas Bainton, or black sloven,
Got silver plate by labour and drudging.”
But Newmarket was Charles II.’s favourite racing centre, and at one time
there might be seen on Newmarket Heath what was known as the “King’s
Chair,” from which the King was wont to enjoy a view of the horses as
they took their exercise. Charles often took members of the Court there
with him, including many of the ladies belonging to it, conspicuous
amongst whom was Nell Gwynn; and under October 21, 1671, Evelyn makes
this entry: “I lodged this night at Newmarket, where I found the jolly
blades racing, dancing, feasting, and revelling, more resembling a
luxurious and abandoned rout than a Christian court.”
A journey to Newmarket, however, was not the short run of the present
day, and Pepys, under March 8, 1669, tells us how the King set out for
the races at a somewhat early hour: “To Whitehall, from whence the King
and the Duke of York went by three in the morning, and had the
misfortune to be overset with the Duke of York, the Duke of Monmouth,
and the Prince Rupert, at the King’s Gate, in Holborne; and the King all
dirty, but no hurt. How it came to pass I know not, but only it was
dark, and the torches did not, they say, light the coach as they should
do.” A few weeks after this mishap, Pepys informs us that on the 26th
April, “the King and Court went out of town to Newmarket this morning
betimes, for a week.” And Evelyn, under the 9th and 10th October, 1671,
makes this entry in his “Diary”: “I went after evening service to
London, in order to take a journey of refreshment with Mr. Treasurer, to
Newmarket, where the King then was, in his coach with six brave horses,
which we changed thrice, first at Bishop Stortford, and last at
Chesterford; so, by night, we got to Newmarket, where Mr. Henry
Jermain--nephew to the Earl of St. Alban’s--lodged me very civilly. We
proceeded immediately to Court, the King and all the English gallants
being there at their annual sports. Supped at the Lord Chamberlain’s;
and the next day, after dinner, I was on the heath, where I saw the
great match run between Woodcock and Flatfoot, belonging to the
[Illustration: CHARLES II.]
King, and to Mr. Elliot of the Bedchamber, many thousands being
spectators; a more signal race had not been run for many years.”
On Thursday, March 22, 1683, Charles II. was burnt out when at
Newmarket. It appears that about nine o’clock in the evening “a great
fire broke out where the King, the Queen, and the Duke of York were
residing in the King’s house, situate on the Cambridgeshire side of the
town. The fire originated on the Suffolk side, but the other one being
in danger, it was resolved that the King and his Court should that night
come to Cambridge, and accordingly word came to the Vice-Chancellor
about one of the clock on the Friday morning, who immediately gave
orders for great St. Mary’s Bells to jangle, to give notice to the
Towne, and candles, &c., to be in all places alight, and accordingly the
bells did jangle, and candles in abundance in all parts of the public
streets on both sides in their windows lighted, and the King and Court
accordingly expected. But between two and three that morning, there came
the Lord Grandison to the Dolphin and acquainted Mr. Mayor that his
Majesty would go, or was gone, to Cheavely, and not come to Cambridge;
but his Majesty did not stir from Newmarket, but continued there all
night, and went away from thence not till Monday following, being the
26th March 1683.”[98] This fire which destroyed property to the value of
£20,000, is said to have defeated the Rye House Plot, which is generally
supposed to have meditated the death of Charles II. and his brother the
Duke of York, at a spot called Rye House, on the road to London from
Newmarket, and which was to have been carried out eight days after the
royal party thus unexpectedly left Newmarket for London. Evelyn has not
omitted to mention this occurrence in his “Diary,” and under September
23, 1683, he writes: “There was this day a collection for rebuilding
Newmarket, consumed by an accidental fire, which removing his Majesty
thence sooner than was intended, put by the assassins, who were
disappointed of their rendezvous and expectation by a wonderful
Providence. This made the King more earnest to render Winchester the
seat of his autumnal field diversions for the future, designing a palace
there where the ancient palace stood; infinitely, indeed, preferable to
Newmarket for prospects, air, pleasure, and provisions. The surveyor has
already begun the foundation for a palace, estimated to cost £35,000,
and his Majesty is purchasing ground about it to make a park.” But
Charles II. died in February 1685. It should be added that Charles II.
was a breeder of race-horses, having imported mares from Barbary and
other parts, selected by his Master of the Horse sent abroad for that
purpose, and called Royal Mares, appearing as such in the Stud-book to
this day. One of these mares was the dam of Dodsworth, bred by the King,
and said to be the earliest race-horse we have on record, whose pedigree
can be properly authenticated.[99]
James II. was a horseman, but he did not reign long enough over his
people to enable them to judge of his inclinations respecting the
pleasures of the turf. When he retired to France, however, he devoted
himself to hunting, and had several first-rate English horses always in
his stud. William III. and his Queen were patrons of racing, not only
continuing the bounty of their predecessors, but adding several plates
to the former donations. In Queen Anne the turf found a warm supporter,
her consort, Prince George of Denmark, keeping a fine stud, the Curwen
Bay Barb and the celebrated Darley Arabian appearing in this reign. It
was Queen Anne who first started the Gold Cups in the north, and entered
and ran her own horses for them. Thus, at York, in the year 1712, her
Majesty’s grey gelding, Pepper, ran for the Royal Cup of £100; and in
the following year another of her horses named Mustard, ran for the
Royal Cup again, but neither was good enough to win his royal mistress a
Gold Cup. She was destined, however, at last, to win a triumph at York,
though it was one of which she never was conscious, for on the very
morning of which her brown horse, Star, won for her Majesty her first
great victory on the turf, July 30, 1714, the Queen was seized with
apoplexy, and remained in a state of insensibility until Sunday, August
1, when she died.
George I. was no racer, but he discontinued silver plates as prizes, and
instituted the King’s Plates, as they have been since termed, being one
hundred guineas paid in cash, an alteration which “probably the turf
owes more to judicious advisers than to his Majesty’s individual
inclination.”[100] George II. neither understood nor appreciated the
attractions of horse-racing; but, to encourage the breed of horses, as
well as to suppress low gambling, he made some good regulations for the
suppression of pony races, and running for any sum under fifty
pounds.[101] And among the curiosities of Ascot records is the fact that
on one occasion Frederick, Prince of Wales, son of George II., threw a
bottle at a winner as it was coming in.
Although George III. was fond of hunting, and kept two packs of hounds,
he was no great lover of the turf; his annual visit with his family to
Ascot Heath being all the encouragement he gave the sport, if we except
a plate of a hundred guineas to be run for by horses that had been
regularly hunted with the royal hounds during the preceding winter.
But his son George IV. atoned for all the shortcomings of his
predecessors in his love of racing, and in the interest he displayed in
everything connected with it. It was in the year 1784 that as Prince of
Wales he made his first appearance on the course as the owner of
race-horses. For seven seasons he was an enthusiastic patron of the
turf, amongst other successes winning the Derby in the year 1788 with
Sir Thomas, until the year 1791 when the notorious Escape scandal caused
him abruptly to sever his connection with racing--an unfortunate
occurrence which was keenly regretted by every lover of sport throughout
the kingdom. It appears that on the 20th October 1791 a horse named
Escape, the property of the Prince, ran in a race at Newmarket for which
it was first favourite, but finished last. On the following day, with
six to one betted against him, Escape won easily a race in which two of
the horses which had distanced him on the previous day also ran. In both
cases Sam Chifney had ridden Escape, and a rumour at once spread that
with or without the connivance of his master he had “pulled” the horse
for the first race, and had thereby netted several hundreds of pounds.
The Jockey Club took the matter up, Sir Charles Bunbury and Messrs.
Ralph Dutton and Thomas Panton being the stewards appointed to
investigate the affair. The result of their inquiries was an acquittal
of the Prince, but they were not satisfied with Chifney’s explanation,
and Sir Charles Bunbury went so far as to say that, if Chifney were
allowed to ride the Prince’s horses, no gentleman would start against
him. But, to the honour of the Prince be it said, rather than sacrifice
his servant he gave up his favourite amusement. At the same time, his
Royal Highness told Chifney that he should not be likely to keep horses
again, but he added, “If ever I do you shall train and manage them. You
shall have your two hundred guineas a year just the same. I cannot give
it you for your life; I can only give it for my own. You have been an
honest and good servant to me.”
Early in the year 1792 the Prince’s stud was brought to the hammer; but,
although he ceased to run horses of his own, he did not by any means
lose his zest for the sport, and continued largely to patronise and
support country races. Thus, the well-known Tom Raikes in his diary has
left us a graphic picture of Brighton on a race morning, when the Prince
was in one of his best moods, and the ground was covered with “tandems,
beautiful women, and light hussars.” “In those days,” writes the
diarist, “the Prince made Brighton and Lewes Races the gayest scene of
the year in England. The Pavilion was full of guests, and the Steyne was
crowded with all the rank and fashion from London. The ‘legs’ and
bettors who had arrived in shoals used to assemble on the Steyne at an
early hour to commence their operations on the first day, and the buzz
was tremendous, till Lord Foley and Mellish, the two great confederates
of that day, would approach the ring, and then a sudden silence ensued
to await the opening of their books.... About half-an-hour before the
departure for the hill, the Prince himself would make his appearance in
the crowd. I think I see him now in a green jacket, a white hat, and
light nankeen pantaloons and shoes, distinguished by his high-bred
manner and handsome person. He was generally accompanied by the Duke of
Bedford, Lord Jersey, Charles Wyndham, Shelley, Brummell, M. Day,
Churchill, and the little old Jew Travis.... At dinner-time the Pavilion
was resplendent with lights, and a sumptuous banquet was furnished to a
large party; while those who were not included in that invitation found
a dinner with every luxury at the club-house on the Steyne, kept by
Raggett during the season for the different members of White’s and
Brooke’s who chose to frequent it, and where the cards and dice from St.
James’ were not forgotten.”
After a time the Jockey Club seems to have regretted their line of
action; and at a meeting, held at Brighton in the year 1805, they
addressed the following letter to the Prince:--
“May it please your Royal Highness, the members of the Jockey Club,
deeply regretting your absence from Newmarket, earnestly entreat the
affair may be buried in oblivion, and sincerely hope that the different
meetings may again be honoured by your Highness’s condescending
attendance.”
The Prince, it is said, consented to overlook the past, but his horses
were never sent to Newmarket after the year 1808, and then only to
complete engagements. In addition to Brighton and Lewes, Bibury was his
favourite race-ground, where he “appeared as a private gentleman for
several years in succession, an inmate of Lord Sherborne’s family, and
with the Duke of Dorset, then Lord Sackville, for his jockey. During the
last ten years of his Majesty’s life racing interested him more than it
had ever done before, and by the encouragement he then gave to Ascot and
Goodwood, he contributed towards making them the most fashionable
meetings in the world; and perhaps the day on which his three favourite
horses--Fleur-de-lis, Zinganee, and the Colonel--came in first, second,
and third for the cup at the latter place was one of the proudest of his
life.”[102] The love of the turf was with him to the very last, and
when the Ascot Cup was run for in the year 1830 under the royal colours
he was on his death-bed; and “so strong was the ‘ruling passion’ in this
awful hour--and his Majesty was well aware his hour was come--that an
express was sent to him after every race.”[103]
His brother, the Duke of York, was almost as keen a lover of the turf as
his Majesty himself, “jolly, cursing, courageous Frederick,” as
Thackeray calls him. In the year 1816 he was the winner of the Derby
with Prince Leopold, and in 1822 with Moses. But the “Duke of York was
on the turf what he was everywhere--good-humoured, unsuspecting, and
confiding; qualifications, however creditable to human nature,
ill-fitted for a race-course.” Hence His Royal Highness was no winner by
his horses, and his heavy speculations were the cause of his pecuniary
embarrassments. On February 5, 1827, just one month from the date of his
death, the Duke’s stud of thirty-two animals, including seven hacks and
ten grey ponies, was brought to the hammer. The Duke of Richmond gave
1100 guineas for Moses, while Mr. Payne bought Figaro, that had run
Moses in the Derby, at 200 guineas more. The King also gave 560 guineas
for Rachel; but, writes “The Druid,” “racers, hacks, carriages, and dogs
only produced 8804 guineas--a mere mole-hill compared with the
Skiddaw-like pile of debts which he left behind him. Rundell and Bridge,
his jewellers, had such an account that Cape Breton was ceded to them
in lieu of it by the Government of the day, and his taste in their line
may be judged of by the fact that his rifle, which brought 50 guineas,
had a gold pan and touch-hole.”
Brought up to the sea, it was not to be expected that William IV. should
have any strong predilection for horse-racing. But he so far interested
himself in the sport as to take up his brother’s stud and run out his
engagements; in connection with which some amusing anecdotes are told
illustrative of his simplicity in sporting matters. It seems that
previously to the appearance of the royal stud in his Majesty’s name,
the trainer sought an audience, and requested to know what horses it was
the Royal pleasure to have sent down. “Send down the whole squad,” said
the King; “some of them, I suppose, will win!”
And yet his Majesty was fully sensible of the importance of the
race-horse as a means of keeping up the English breed of horses, for
when at Egham Races, in August 1836, an address was presented to him for
giving a Royal Purse of 100 guineas to be annually run for there, he
said that he regarded horse-racing as a national sport--“the manly and
noble sport of a free people; and that he deeply felt the pride of being
able to encourage those pastimes so intimately connected with the habits
and feelings of this free country.” And to this end he maintained a stud
of about twenty-five blood-mares for the purpose of breeding from the
best sires, and sold the produce annually as yearlings--a plan he
carried out to the last. But shortly after his death the entire stud was
broken up and disposed of, despite the remonstrances of certain members
of the Legislature, and the subjoined memorial from the Jockey Club,
signed by twenty-three of its leading members:--
“We, the undersigned, have heard with great concern of the probability
of a dissolution of the Royal Stud at Hampton Court. We think that the
great and permanent attraction of the annual stud sale, by producing
competition, enhances the value of thorough-bred horses, and thus
promotes the improvement of the breed throughout the kingdom. We trust,
therefore, that her Majesty’s Government may be induced to advise the
Queen to retain the establishment; and we have the less scruple in
expressing this hope, because we are persuaded that under judicious
management the proceeds of the sale would be found upon an average to
cover all the expenses of maintaining the stud.”
This remonstrance, however, was ineffectual, and the stud was sold by
Messrs. Tattersall at Hampton Court on 25th October 1837, the sale
realising a total of 15,692 guineas.
And, like many of her royal predecessors, her late Majesty, Queen
Victoria, occasionally favoured in the early part of her reign the
race-course with her presence, particularly Royal Ascot. And, on one
occasion, it is said, she was so pleased with the performance of a very
tiny jockey that she sent for him, and presented him with a ten-pound
note, at the same time asking him his weight. To the great amusement of
the royal circle, he replied, “Please, ma’am, master says as how I must
never tell my weight.”
Although horse-racing has been much patronised by foreign sovereigns, as
a sport it has never acquired abroad the immense popularity it has so
long secured with us as a great national institution. Perhaps one of the
most curious incidents associated with royalty was that recorded in the
history of Poland. On the death of one of their sovereigns, who ruled
under the name of Lesko I., the Poles were so perplexed upon the
selection of a successor, that they at last agreed to settle the
difficulty by allowing it to be determined by a horse-race.
Many of the French kings patronised horse-racing, and found in it a
pleasant and exciting diversion from the cares and anxieties of the
state, although it does not always seem to have been free from censure.
Thus, for instance, the levity of Marie Antoinette in disregarding
conventional rules observed by those in high station, exposed her to
blame; and Le Comte de Mercy speaking of her attending horse-races,
says: “It is a matter for extreme regret that the Queen habituates
herself entirely to forget all that relates to outward dignity.... The
horse-races gave occasion to much that was unfortunate and, I will say,
unbecoming, as regards the position held by the Queen.... I went to the
course in full dress and in my carriage. On reaching the royal tent I
found there a large table spread with an ample collation, which was, so
to speak, fought for by a crowd of young men unfittingly dressed, who
made wild confusion and all kinds of unintelligible noises. In the midst
of this mob were the Queen, Madame d’Artois, Madame Elizabeth, and M. le
Comte d’Artois. This last personage kept running about, betting, and
complaining whenever he lost, pitiably excited if he won, and rushing
among the people outside to encourage his jockeys. He actually presented
to the Queen a jockey who had won a race.”