Many who desire to become rich with rapidity think the turf a smooth road to fortune. Every few weeks an appetising paragraph "goes the round," telling the world that another fortune has been won on the racecourse, that Mr. So-and-So has "landed" £25,000 by the victory of a horse in one of the popular handicaps! Such an announcement excites the cupidity of hundreds, and so a rush takes place to back many horses for the next important struggle. Very few who try succeed; fortunes, they soon find out, come only to the fortunate, and in time many of the eager fighters for the favour of the blind goddess find themselveshors de combat, and then retire disgusted from the arena. A few doughty combatants fight on in the hope of ultimate success, one of them, perhaps, to find, after many days, that he has become enriched during the struggle.
Some who think themselves wiser than their fellows come early to the conclusion that the indiscriminate backing of horses, or even tipsters, or newspaper selections is a blunder, and so resolve to try a "system," feeling sure that by speculating on a well-defined principle they must make money. In due time the cleverest think out for themselves or are put on a plan by some friend, which is morally certain to prove successful. It may be one of the many systems known in connection with turf speculation, "following the favourites," or backing one's own fancies, or it may be the following of jockeys.
To back the horses ridden by certain jockeys has for years past been one mode of speculation on the turf. It was first brought to the notice of the public by a Mr. John Denman, who acted for a time as a racing commissioner, and who maintained (he published an elaborate essay on the subject) that it would prove profitable to back horses ridden by men who were always winning.
In persistently following Barrett, Watts, Woodburn, Canon, or Loates, or any other jockey, the plan of putting down a given sum on each mount, win or lose, may be adopted, or a particular jockey may be followed in sequences of six or seven trials, or even a lesser number at pleasure, the stake being doubled on each occasion of a loss, till the end of the sequence, and in cases—no uncommon occurrence—of a sequence running out before a win has been secured, beginning again. There are many, some even well versed in turf affairs, who probably think it almost impossible that Loates, Canon, or Barrett or some equally clever horseman, could be unsuccessful for seven consecutive turns; but should the jockey selected prove unsuccessful even four times running, and then at the fifth trial score a win, the very meagre price usually offered against a popular rider proving victorious—indeed, the horse entrusted to him very often starts with odds bettedonit—renders the winning account, on most occasions, anything but profitable. It is not sometimes a very easy matter to invest a large sum on a comparatively small race, and in connection with the mounts of the more popular jockeys the investment of £320would not often cover previous losses; it might happen on occasion that £100 would require to be risked to win £30, so that in the event cited a loss of over £224 would be sustained on the run of six non-successful mounts in the sequence, and it is needless to say that a series of such misfortunes would speedily exhaust a pretty well-filled bank.
To the uninitiated in turf mysteries, for whom this book is more immediately intended, it may be necessary to explain that a "sequence" may be arranged to extend over any number of mounts from two to twelve, or even a greater number if that were practical, which it is not, because in such case the sum to be invested could not be "got on," it would have become so large. The sum fixed upon as a stake may be for any reasonable amount from £1 to £20, only it is not desirable to fix it at a very large amount for the reason just given—it would swell to an unmanageable size. Taking £5 as a representative sum, it will be seen that before the seventh trial, should the six previous efforts have failed, a smart sum of money will have been expended—the following amounts, in fact: £5, £10, £20, £40, £80, £160, or a total of £315. The next stake invested, in the event of none of the six having proved fruitful, would amount to £630, and if that also should be lost, it would, of course, swell the total. On the other hand, £630 invested on a race at 2 to 1, would yield a return of £1,260, and thus, after deducting the money lost, yield a capital profit.
The vicissitudes experienced from time to time by backers of horses would, if related atlength, fill a volume. Many anecdotes are in circulation of men who have been ruined by backing horses, as well as of others to whom the turf has proved a stepping-stone to fortune. I remember when there used frequently to be recorded a suicide over the Derby, which was said to be the result of losses sustained over that highly popular race, but such narratives were usually takencum grano salis. It is not over such races as the Derby that the common run of backers come to grief, because that race does not present such favourable opportunities to speculators as the popular handicaps.
The Derby is a race for which the general public evince much partiality, and on which a large number of persons who never bet on any other race risk a sovereign. Professional bettors, of course, bet on the result of the Derby as they do on all other contests; but the "form" of the horses which take part in the struggle having generally become well known, there is not the same temptation presented to speculators as in some other events where the odds obtained are more liberal. On the other hand, some men prefer to back the favourites for such races as the Derby and Oaks, being contented with the twos to one and sevens to four which can be procured from the bookmaker; but persons who like the twenties, thirty-threes, and forties, which can often be obtained against handicap winners at some period before the race, do not readily accommodate themselves to the large expenditure involved in accepting small odds. I remember a well-known betting man who is a keen hand and speculates in large amounts, taking £2,000to £1,000 that Bend Or would win the Derby, and every person knows what a very narrow squeak he had for his money. The same person, incited by his success in backing the winner of the Blue Ribbon of the Turf, backed Versigny to win him £2,000, and by doing so required to risk about £1,200, so that he had only £800 of his Derby gains left, a portion of which was lost over Master Kildare in the Gold Cup.
The person here alluded to, who is well known by his nickname of "Public Form,"[4]is a very heavy bettor, putting down at three out of every four of the race meetings which are held stakes of from £50 to £200 on even the smaller races, whenever in fact he thinks he has got hold of what is called "a good thing." In some seasons "Public Form" has been very successful, although from the state of the odds against the horses which he backs he seldom "lands" a big win; but if he thinks the chance an extra good one he will not scruple to give odds, but will put down £700 to win £400, or he will take even money against the chance.
It will be obvious enough that a person betting such large sums runs heavy risks, more especially as he so seldom goes for big odds. Risks, however, are comparative, and it should be easier, therefore, to realise a 7 to 4 chance than to obtain a win when the odds are at the rate of 66 to 1; in the latter case the bettor only requires to risk £15 to win £1,000, while in the former case to win a similar amount a sum of nearly £600 will require to be risked. Somebold spirits on the turf, when they think the opportunity has befallen them, "down the pieces" in the most fearless manner, or rather they go in for big money at the risk of those who will give them credit. On some occasions a lucky coup will be made that may prove to be the precursor of good fortune. A man may bring off a double event or may win a few hundred pounds over a handicap, and so be able to inaugurate a successful career on the turf. On the other hand, a person may bet for a season with all his might, and with fair knowledge and experience, and lose more than another man may pocket. Numerous instances of such being the case might be cited. It is not long since the sporting journals related the downfall of a backer who in one season made a tolerably nice little fortune by backing the mounts of the chief jockey. In a few months the thousands which that person had realised had taken unto themselves wings and flown away, and so he became "broke," like similar speculators.
There are, however, men on the turf at the present moment who are worth money, and who earned what they possess by betting. The persons here alluded to have proceeded on the lines that "small fish are sweet," and have been contented with modest profits, taking care to keep carefully what they gain. "Old Thatchem,"[5]who is the happy possessor of a whole village in a well-known racing county, made all the money with which he bought or built his houses at the race-meetings held in his own shire. His first bit ofluck—he was then a day labourer—was in realising a bet of £10 to 10s.on Princess for the Two-year-old Stakes at Doncaster, in 1843. A sum of £10, forty years ago was thought by a labouring man to be "money," and such was the opinion of "old Thatchem." Not a penny of the £10 was parted with till next year, when a sovereign invested on Kedge for the Champagne Stakes doubled the sum, whilst £2 invested on Bee's Wing for the Gold Cup added £16 to the hoard. In three years the old man was worth a cool hundred, which he invested in the purchase of a house. His ambition being stirred, he continued his careful and successful career, and soon became an adept at his business; not that he was always successful; oh, no, many a time he felt the frost of speculation; on such occasions, like a prudent general, he wisely desisted from business for a brief period that hisluckmight have room, as he was wont to say, to turn itself round.
By way of contrast to this prudent Yorkshireman, take the case of a young fellow who a good many years ago flashed upon the turf like a meteor. Winning £300 when Caractacus won the Derby, he followed up his success at Epsom by bagging a large amount at Ascot, and the like good fortune attending his efforts at Goodwood, at the end of the year he left off with an addition to his bank account of £2,700. Extraordinary to relate, he was equally successful in the following year, but a change of fortune overtook him at last, and from being a swell of the first water, constantly in luck, always feasting on fat things, he gradually fell and fell till, in a few years, he was glad to earn a shilling or twoat race meetings by acting as a peripatetic tipster. Many stories of a like kind are doubtless known to persons who are acquainted with the ever-changing incidents of our race meetings.
Apropos to betting for cash, one of the most singular utterances that has ever appeared against the "principle" of betting for ready money is that of Mr. William Day, published in one of the monthly miscellanies, and in which he describes that mode of betting as a "pernicious system," as "the greatest pest of society, the current evil of the day." Further, Mr. Day says the practice of ready money betting is "a blot on the nationality of every Englishman!" Unfortunately for himself, Mr. Day stultifies his own arguments against ready money betting by his advocacy of the Pari-mutuel plan of backing horses, which is a ready money system of bettingpar excellence, the adoption of which Mr. Day thinks would put a stop to reckless speculation, as, indeed, would ready money betting conducted through the medium of the bookmakers (who ought to be licensed).
The writer of these pages, as is obvious enough, is quite of the same opinion as Mr. Day, that "so long as a man can go into the ring and bet his untold thousands upon race after race, not having as many hundreds to pay his losses with, so long as he can find usurers to supply him with the needful to be paid on the Monday after, then so long, too, will he continue to bet, little caring what he pays for the convenience; as things are he is compelled to raise funds to save his credit and his respect among his aristocratic associates, but in theother case (of Pari-mutuel betting) there would not be such pressing necessity for him to have the money."
A very excellent reason was recently given for the adoption of a ready money system of betting by one of the "big bookmakers" of the day; it was pithily expressed to a gentleman who was complaining of the small odds now laid to bettors. "Look you," said the layer of the odds, "I have thirty-three per cent. of bad debts to contend with every season, and so have some of my friends. When we have ready money betting there will be no bad debts, and the odds will then extend by twenty or thirty per cent." An extension of the odds, say all backers of horses, is certainly much needed; of late years prices have been growing small by degrees and beautifully less.
FOOTNOTES:[4]"Public Form," I regret to learn, died in the autumn of 1891, at his residence near Glasgow.[5]This note and the preceding are abridged from a magazine sketch about "Public Form."
[4]"Public Form," I regret to learn, died in the autumn of 1891, at his residence near Glasgow.
[4]"Public Form," I regret to learn, died in the autumn of 1891, at his residence near Glasgow.
[5]This note and the preceding are abridged from a magazine sketch about "Public Form."
[5]This note and the preceding are abridged from a magazine sketch about "Public Form."
It is not the writer's intention to venture on a full gallery of racing adventurers, but to present three or four portraits only by way of sample of the fifty or sixty which might be painted by the pen in black and white, and he has selected Messrs. Crockford, Gully, Ridsdale, Swindell, and Davis "the Leviathan" as being typical of the whole body.
Among the racing adventurers who flourished sixty years since, the names of Davis, Crockford, Gully, and Ridsdale were prominent in turf affairs; these men and others like them were much trusted and betted to win or lose large amounts; "their mere word," as a certain noble baronet who did business with them said, "is better than other men's bonds." They paid sums of five, ten, or twenty thousand pounds when they lost them without the slightest hesitation, not infrequently indeed before they were due according to betting etiquette. Sixty years ago, racing adventurers began to come to the front and some of them soon acquired fortunes; severalof the number who did so had not the wit, however, to keep the money they earned, and so fell back to their original condition. Such was the fate of Ridsdale, at one time racing partner with John Gully and a man of wealth. Crockford, as shall presently be narrated, began life as a fishmonger, and in the course of his career became a millionaire. In his young days Gully was a butcher and afterwards a professional pugilist; Davis again was a carpenter by trade, and flourished every day after becoming a betting man, the excitement of which career suited his temperament. Others of the bookmaking and betting fraternity had beginnings equally humble: some of them had been helpers in stables; one prominent man in turf affairs had driven a hackney coach; another had been footman at one time in a gentleman's family, but by the aid of turf chicanery became wealthy, and able himself in time to keep a couple of footmen. It is not possible within the limits of the present volume, to include more than three or four brief biographical sketches of the more prominent of the racing adventurers who have earned notoriety on the turf.
Davis, "the Leviathan," as he was called in racing circles, possessing a genius for the manipulation of figures, ultimately became one of the most successful bookmakers of his time, betting to thousands in the ring and to the silver or gold offered at his lists. As has been more than once related, the future "Leviathan's" first bet involved no greater risk than half-a-crown; but that sum, small as it was, turned out a prolific parent, he who risked it being found ten yearslater in the foremost ranks of the betting ring. Davis speedily discovered in his own case that "backing" horses, unless in exceptional instances, could never be profitable, no matter how generally fortunate he might be in selecting winners; he therefore speedily forsook that mode of betting and began "making a book," laying at first the odds to small money only to his fellow workmen. At the time indicated he was in the service of Cubitt & Co., the great builders, as a journeyman carpenter.
The "Leviathan's" plans received a fillip from the fact of his being engaged in the erection of the subscription rooms at Newmarket. Cubitt & Co., his employers, being contractors for the job, he had therefore congenial surroundings, which confirmed him in his resolve to make money by means of horse-racing. The chief meetings held at the turf metropolis took place while the rooms were being built, and as Davis had taken lodgings in the house of a stable helper, he was thus enabled to obtain more reliable information of the doings on Newmarket Heath than he might otherwise have been in a position to get. This enabled him to lay the odds and back horses with a greater certainty of winning both ways, a plan he adopted with considerable success. As he said to a friend, "when I got to know, which I often did, that a horse was not doing the right sort of work for a particular race, I tried all the more to lay the odds against it; on the other hand, I backed any horse that I was told was taking proper exercise. It is a fine thing for a small betting man as I was then to be able to handle the stickat both ends; by doing that I made a bit, and so was all ready when bigger chances came to hand to make the most of them."
When the job he was engaged on at Newmarket was finished, Davis came back to London with what he called a tidy pocketful of money, as much as fifty-seven pounds, the fruit of his economy and industry. Having thrown up his work at Cubitt's, he with the sum named began business as a bookmaker, and succeeded from the beginning. His first great hit was made on the "Two Thousand Guineas." Having obtained reliable information about the chance of Sir Tatton Sykes for the race in question, he backed that horse to win, taking care at the same time to lay against as many of the other horses engaged in the contest as his customers would back. The money he made on this occasion amounted to a considerable sum, the possession of which enabled him to extend his business and also to bet in bigger sums. Hitherto he had very rarely laid the odds to half-a-sovereign, but after Sir Tatton's victory he ventured to bet sovereigns, and by doing so increased his store not rapidly but steadily.
A friend of Davis' was wont to relate that it was in consequence of a dream he backed Sir Tatton. Falling asleep one Sunday afternoon, he fancied he was reading a newspaper, and that its tip for the Guineas, in large letters, was "Sir Tatton Sykes first"; that he read quite plain, but the names of the placed horses being blurred he could not make them out. Thinking little of his vision, he went about his work on Monday as usual, but, singularly enough, onMonday night the vision was repeated, with the words added, "this will come right." Davis was staggered by the circumstance, and being in possession of other information resolved to have "a bit extra" on, and so landed a good stake for his then position in the betting arena. Many curious dreams connected with horse-racing have from time to time been told, and the above story, now first related, may be added to the number.
Visiting, day by day, all the well-known sporting public-houses in London, picking up a little information here and making a few bets there, and always paying punctually when he lost, Davis speedily made a connection, and in a short time attracted a large number of customers. Being modest of manner and invariably civil, good fortune attended most of his efforts. Another feature in his favour was that he was liberal in offering odds, generally naming a point more than any of his competitors, so that he soon became "first favourite" among the betting men who were fond of backing their "fancy." Davis, in those days, betted for ready money only, and it was a maxim of his that "if you can lay all the horses, a point of additional odds is of no moment." "The horse which wins," he was wont to say, "brings you nothing, all the others do." In the beginning of his career, slow and sure was his motto; "ten pounds gained on each of five small races makes fifty." Passing on to a later period of his career, when his betting relations had extended to the patricians of the turf, Davis occasionally laid the odds to an almost incredible amount against allthe horses entered in a race, and the greater favourite a horse became, the more willing was the "Leviathan" to bet against it; on many occasions the sums he stood to lose were really enormous in their amount.
Davis, like other bookmakers, had his fortunate and his unfortunate races. The Derby, for instance, was one of the latter class of events; he was never fortunate in transactions entered into in connection with that race. Upon the occasion of Voltigeur winning the Blue Ribbon he stood to lose nearly £40,000 on his list accounts, as well as having to meet many liabilities for large sums in the ring and at Tattersall's consequent on the victory of that horse. The non-success of Hotspur in the great Epsom event cost him, he was wont to say, £50,000, while the failure of Barbarian involved the disbursement of about a plum; and in the year which was sacred to the victory of Teddington he dropped a mint of money; one cheque alone written out and paid away on the morning after the race was filled up for three times "five thou" (£15,000). Again, the Derby victory of Daniel O'Rourke necessitated his parting with £30,000, whilst one of Davis' bets on West Australian was paid to Mr. Bowes, the owner of that horse, in the shape of a draft on the London and Westminster Bank for the full amount.
These big sums, however, were not all loss; he had the amounts he won over the other runners to aid him in paying them, and as was to be expected, he came every now and then into the possession of great gains; on one or twooccasions he bagged £40,000 over a race; had that not been so, he would have been unable to battle with the wholesale losses he had sometimes to encounter. His business at one time was quite remarkable in its extent; often in the ring he was mobbed by people desirous of betting with him, from whom, on the days of popular races, he received hatfuls of money. No matter what race-meeting he might be attending, if the place where it was held was within a few hours' reach of London, he made it his business to return, to ascertain what was doing at his various lists, and to draw a cheque for the next day's settlement; punctual payment was with him a rule from which he never deviated.
As to the betting lists which were ultimately put down by the strong hand of Parliament, Davis was not, as many have supposed, the originator of them. They were "invented," if such a word may be used, by Messrs. Drummond and Greville, who took care to let it be known they kept a big balance at their bankers'. By the persistent display of "the lists" (which were exhibited by many licensed victuallers in their houses), betting, especially in London, extended among all classes, as at some of the lists as little as sixpence was accepted. For the benefit of those who do not know any better, it may be as well to explain here that a "list" was a written or printed document containing the names of the horses engaged in the particular race to be betted upon, with a price affixed against the chance possessed by each animal. Previous to the institution of the lists, the great body of the people were pretty well contented with a ticketin a Derby or some other sweepstake, of which a great number, at prices ranging from pence to pounds, were drawn in London and the provinces, but more especially in London, where there were then thousands organised, embracing most of the popular handicaps, as well as the classic races—so called.
It was calculated that at one time more than seven hundred lists were open in the great metropolis, most of them being "placed" in the public-houses of the period. Betting on horse-racing by means of lists became in time so popular and extensive as to attract the indignant attention of many people, who conceived it to be a cause of degradation and deep demoralisation. Lotteries of all kinds, big and little, had been effectually suppressed by the strong arm of the law, but list betting took the place of the lottery tickets with a vengeance.
The "Leviathan," although not himself the originator of the list system of betting, was not long in seeing—being a ready money system—that good fortune awaited that plan of turf speculation, and he accordingly commenced business at a public-house in Serle Street, in the Strand, known as the "Durham Arms," at which in the course of time so great a trade was done (in liquor) as to enable the landlady to retire from business within the course of two or three years. Davis was proprietor of two or three lists, as also the originator of three or four for which other persons ultimately became responsible. Publicans were well pleased to allow betting lists to be shown in their houses—it was a source of revenue to them, as few bets were made overwhich a pint or two of beer was not consumed, so that landlords "made money," as the saying goes, in the days of the lists, a list being an excellent advertisement for every house in which it was hung up. The chief centre of list betting was Long Acre, and in that street was to be found one of the "Leviathan's" lists, and so great was the business done, that not only was his own supervision necessary, but the aid of two or three clerks became essential. Other "list masters" carried on a roaring trade as well as Davis, but he was undoubtedly the leader in that feature of the betting business of his time; "punctual payment with a pleasant courtesy of words," was his motto, and that way of doing his work soon made him king of the list men. No man engaged in betting was ever more punctual in his payments than Davis. On various occasions when he had lost big sums to gentlemen, he did not delay his payments till the orthodox settling day, but would hand over a cheque for the amount he had lost immediately after the race had been decided.
As was to be expected in such a money-making avocation as list betting seemed to be, scores of the merest fortune hunters speedily entered into the business, many of whom were utterly dishonest scoundrels who pocketed all the money they could collect, and then on the decision of some important race on which they had received large deposits, closed their offices and were no more seen in their accustomed haunts.
Davis in time retired from business and lived for some years at Brighton, where he died, leaving a sum of about £150,000 behind him.
Had Mr. F. Swindell chosen to take pen in hand in order to narrate his experiences of racing, and to indite notices of the turf men with whom he had business or other relations, he might have produced a book of more than ordinary interest. Although six years have elapsed since the death of this "Napoleon of the turf," as he was called by some of his admirers, his memory is kept green in racing circles by frequent references to his achievements in connection with many of the turf transactions of his day. As Mr. Swindell had moved in sporting circles for a period of half a century, evidence of his sayings and doings is by no means scarce. In his time he had a finger in many pies, and as he left personal estate at the date of his death to the value of over £140,000, it may be taken for granted that the transactions he managed or took part in were somewhat profitable.
In his earlier days Mr. Swindell, as he used often enough to tell in his own racy way and in good honest "Lancashire lingo," experienced a good deal of rough weather. "It's a pretty bad case, lad, when thou wants a shilling and doesn't know where to look for it." Frederick Swindell was born in the town of Derby, and learned his father's craft of bell-hanging, by which he made a living for some time in Manchester, in which city he speedily acquired a taste for cock-fighting and other sports, particularly horse-racing, by which in after years he was destined to court fortune both as bookmaker and commissioner,and also as an owner of horses on his own account. It was chiefly in his early Manchester days that he came "through the hard," as he designated his then condition, and felt the lack of money so much; like many other turf adventurers in their beginning, he was poor one day and rich another; "just as luck fell, lad." On one occasion he became bankrupt over a cock-fight at Liverpool—so impoverished, in fact, as to be left without a coin to pay for either supper or bed, and with the certainty that no breakfast would await him in the morning; but next day he was rolling in what, in the circumstances, may be called riches. Having previously backed a horse to win him a hundred pounds—the animal was Charles XII., which, in winning the Liverpool Cup, won for Swindell the amount named—he enjoyed his first taste of fortune in what he then "thowt big money." A different fate befell him on one occasion at Newcastle-on-Tyne while looking on the race for the Northumberland Plate. For that race he had made two wrong moves which told heavily against his pocket; he laid to lose a good "bit of brass" over the horse that won, thinking it a "stiff one," and also backed one that, as it appeared in the sequel, had no pretensions to win; "and lads," he used to say, in telling the story, "a fellow that was on the winning nag and were standing at my back, smashed in my hat. Oh, it were cruel, but that chap had backed the winner."
In time, after experiencing many of the bitters, and also a few of the sweets that are incidental to the "great game," Swindell resolved to make London his place of residence; andhaving experienced a run of luck at one or two meetings, found himself in possession of as much money as enabled him to begin business as landlord of a West End public-house. It was situated near Mount Street, Grosvenor Square, and was a favourite resort of the gentlemen's servants of that aristocratic district of London. The business flourished exceedingly. Many of those who frequented the house were men endowed with sporting tastes, and most of them keen bettors. Swindell laid liberal odds to his customers, and as a few of them were in the service of gentlemen who owned a horse or two, the landlord not infrequently, by carefully noting the investments of these men, was able to do a remunerative stroke of business on his own account. On the occasion of the visit of a celebrated owner of blood stock to Newmarket to witness a trial for an important event, Swindell came to know the result from that gentleman's butler, who obtained particulars of the trial from the lady's-maid, who had read the letter sent to the gentleman's wife, giving full details of what the horse had accomplished.
Many similar circumstances occurred from time to time. The information just referred to was the means of Swindell adding nearly a thousand pounds to his bank account; the butler also made a satisfactory amount, while the lady's-maid was rewarded by having presented to her a valuable diamond and emerald ring. The reputation acquired by Swindell as a prompt payer speedily gained him the patronage of some of the West End betting tradesmen, and in time of the gentlemen whose servants he had hithertodone business with. Accurate accounts and punctual settlements helped to increase business, so that the bookmaker obtained permission to call at some of the clubs in order to do a little betting with "the swells," and to several of these gentlemen Swindell never hesitated to reveal any really good thing he knew; but not, of course, till he had served himself. This practice gained him many friends, and was the means of greatly improving his business by increasing his connection, one gentleman recommending him to another, and all who did business with him were pleased with his quiet, staid, respectful, but never servile manner. Mr. Swindell knew his place and kept it, which some of his contemporaries and many of his successors failed in doing.
With increasing experience of racing matters, and having a clear head, and being of sober habits, Mr. Swindell was not long in finding his services in demand as an adviser in some of the momentous turf affairs of the time. Crockford, with whom at times he used when he was making a book to cover his liabilities in the case of horses that he had overlaid, or backed one or two that he thought likely to win, gave him a word or two of recommendation, which resulted in his being occasionally employed to execute commissions on behalf of owners of horses who for good reasons did not wish to appear as backers of their own animals. Among the many who ultimately took him into their confidence were Mr. Merry, of Thormanby and Doncaster celebrity, and Sir Joseph Hawley. Success usually rewarded the efforts of Mr. Swindell when he undertook to carry throughthe kind of work which has been indicated. Having a very large connection among bookmakers, he was enabled to work the commissions he was entrusted with to the best advantage, and when the time came that those laying the odds became alarmed at being "had," he was able to obtain a choice of men to work for him, so that he could remain in the background and pull the strings quite as effectively as if he were acting openly in his own person.
This is how he "worked the oracle" when he was entrusted by an owner with a big job in the handicap line—and that was the line he liked best, as it was in that description of race there was most room to do such an amount of business as would result in the winning of a large sum of money. As soon as he knew the name of the horse and the race for which it was to be backed, he would enter into consultation with one or other of his bookmaking acquaintances in order to devise a plan of campaign. The arrangement usually made was that the more responsible country bookmakers,i.e., those in the larger provincial towns and cities, should be communicated with, and be asked to lay the odds against "so and so" to a specific amount and at a given price, or no limit might be given in the matter of price; but a particular hour was generally named at which the commission was desired to be executed by the bookmaker or other appointed agent, so that all the money required was usually obtained by this plan of doing the work. In the course of a day it would become known that a very heavy commission had been worked on behalf of "so and so," for the "such and such"handicap, and in consequence the odds against that horse would be quoted at a rapidly lessening figure, much to the chagrin of those who had laid the larger or longer rates of odds, and who, awakening to what had happened, were desirous themselves of backing the horse so as to lessen the sum they would require to pay in the event of its winning the race it had been backed for. Persons who are employed to do commissions get, as a matter of course, to know "the strength of them," and if they fancy the horse has a good chance they help themselves pretty liberally to a share of the money at the highest rate of odds.
Fortune seemed on occasion to play into the hands of Mr. Swindell as if no one else deserved a turn. He was the first to learn from Sir Joseph Hawley that Beadsman would be his best horse for the Derby, that colt having beaten Fitzroland, who had become a prime favourite for the Blue Ribbon from having won the Two Thousand Guineas. "Put me £1,000 on Beadsman at the best odds you can obtain," said Sir Joseph, and Swindell was able the next day to tell the lucky baronet that he had obtained £18,000 to the stake authorised. "All right," was the reply; "now help yourself, it is a good thing." And so it proved, as Beadsman, beating twenty-two competitors, won the Derby of 1858, and that horse was the sire of Blue Gown, which ten years later placed another big stake to the credit of the noble baronet.
The turf transaction which gave Mr. Swindell his first good "lift" as a manager of racing events was his manipulation of Chanticleer, a horse that won the Goodwood Stakes in 1848, a race onwhich there was at one period a great deal of betting. That being so, a heavy commission was executed at the request of Mr. Merry, and so much was the horse's chance esteemed both by owner and commissioner, despite the heavy weight he had to carry, that still more money was put on his chance; but in spite of the well-known fact that Mr. Merry had backed Chanticleer to win a big sum, his price in the market never "shortened," which being contrary to the usual state of affairs, caused Mr. Swindell a great deal of uneasiness. After thinking the matter over for a few days, he came to the conclusion that the jockey who had been engaged to ride the horse had been tampered with, and having stated the grounds of his suspicion to Mr. Merry, that gentleman assented to the changing of the jockey at the last minute. Then it became patent, from the frantic efforts of certain bookmakers to back the horse, that the suspicions of the commissioner were well founded, for ridden by C. Marlow, who had been quietly engaged by Swindell, Chanticleer won the race as had been expected by those interested he would do.
When, at the ripe old age of seventy-four years, Mr. Swindell died, worth, as was carefully chronicled at the time, £146,057, there began to percolate through the columns of the sporting journals a series of anecdotes illustrative of his career. But these cannot be drawn upon here; in fact, many of the circumstances attending his work are embodied in the foregoing slight narrative.
Although on the whole fortunate in his speculations, Mr. Swindell received, as he himself was wont to tell, "many a facer"; and had themisfortune oftener than once to see a good thing that would have been worth thousands to him vanish just as he was about to realise it. He took such reverses with his wonted equanimity, having the comfort of knowing that his bank account was still in a good condition, and no one could determine from his manner how he was affected; Swindell was not in the habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve.
One of the many stories that went the round was the following: "Mr. J. M. Stanley had arranged with Swindell to back Porto Rica for the Two Thousand Guineas, supposing that horse's trial proved satisfactory. Wright, at that time a well-known betting agent, used to publish a little book of forthcoming events. Swindell was on a racecourse when he received a telegram instructing him to back a certain number in Wright's guide for the Guineas. He looked at the little book, but mistook his instructions, thinking they were intended for Lord Stanley's colt by Orlando-Canezou. The two colts, one belonging to Lord Stanley, and the other to Mr. J. M. Stanley, were entered one after the other in Wright's book, and Swindell mistaking one for the other, sent his commissioner to back Lord Stanley's horse. Now this colt was a dark one, had not been mentioned in the betting quotations, and had never yet run in public. With a puzzled expression on his face, the commissioner came back to Swindell, and inquired if any mistake had been made, as the bookmakers seemed over-anxious to lay against the Canezou colt. Master Frederick, on again consulting Wright's book, at once saw he hadmade an error; but the mischief being done, could not be undone, and the confederates agreed to share the loss between them. They had got on about £500 at the respectable odds of 25 and 30 to 1. Shortly after this apparently dismal blunder, Lord Stanley's colt won a first-rate trial, and eventually, when named Fazzoletto, proved victorious in the race; so that Swindell and Robinson had the satisfaction of putting several thousands of pounds in their pockets through backing a horse by mistake."
Other anecdotes of a like kind have, as has been said, gone the round of the press, in one or other of the numerous sketches written about Mr. Swindell after his death, most of which were of the most laudatory kind.
"Ah, sir, you should 'ave been a-going racing when John Gully and his pal Ridsdale was a-carrying all before 'em; them was the days for sensations and excitements. There's not the same go about the business now as there used to was. Bless you, sir, I can mind when pails of champagne wine was stood by winners, and stable-lads turned up their noses at it. I was in a racing stable in them days, where some of the gents as had 'osses in it thought nothing of giving me a sov. for a-holding of their 'acks for ten minutes. Ah, sir, them were the days for stablemen."
So said to me an ancient horsey-like man in "Hannah's year" at Doncaster. I had seen him in the morning as "the Baron's" filly was ledon to the course to do a little exercise, when, touching his cap politely, he said: "I seen you here last year, sir, when you got the big hodds agin 'Awthornden. I hope as you'll back the mare, sir, she'll win easy enough; but you won't get no twenty-fives about her, sir, ten to three is the biggest offer; my 'umble advice to you, sir, is to take it; she'll win, sir, as easy as easy." And so she did. After the race was over and I was drawing the pony I had backed her to win, there stood the retired stableman eagerly looking on. "It's come off, sir, as I said; she's a fine mare. Thank you, sir, you're very polite; half sovs. are scarce with me now, sir; but in the days when Gully and Ridsdale were a-flourishing at Newmarket, I've seen when I had plenty of 'em. Take my 'umble advice again, sir, and put all your winnings on Corisandy for the big 'andicap; she's another certainty, she is, sir."
And that is my preface to the following little sketch of Gully and Ridsdale, who were among the chief racing adventurers of their time. Both men were of humble origin. Ridsdale was born in York, and earned a small wage in his early days as helper in a livery stable, from which he was promoted to be a groom to the first Earl of Durham, then Mr. Lambton. Robert Ridsdale after a time, having given up service, made his appearance on the turf as an adventurer, and from the first success appears to have attended his efforts. He had formed an extensive and profitable acquaintance with many of the northern trainers and jockeys, who at the period, say from 1815 onwards, were busy in the racing world; the sport of kings at the time indicated beingin a flourishing condition in the North, where the training stables were crowded with famous horses, the riders of which had earned reputations on the turf. Ridsdale was fortunate, as the saying goes, to get into many of the "good things" of those days, and, judging by the fine establishment he was speedily enabled to set up in the neighbourhood of York, he must, almost at the outset of his turf career, have discovered a way of "making" large sums of money. Among his patrons was the Honourable Edward Petre, who for some years, "in the days when George the Fourth was king," enjoyed the favours of fortune on the racecourse, having won the St. Leger on four different occasions, three of his wins being in consecutive years.
John Gully was a racing man of great notoriety, and became a Member of Parliament. In his earlier years he is known to have played the parts of butcher, prize-fighter, publican, hell-keeper, and bookmaker, carrying on at one time a gigantic business in the latter capacity. Gully was a pugilist in those days when boxing was most thought of, and when fighting men were patronised by persons of honour and respectability. As a boxer, Gully was a man of indomitable courage, as plucky in the roped arena as his partner Ridsdale was in the hunting-field. It was while carrying on business as a publican that Gully saw his way to fortune in the betting ring; like some other shrewd persons, he early discovered that "backing" horses was an unprofitable avocation, having come to the conclusion that the chief gains of the turf remained in the hands of the men who laid the odds."Backers," as they are called, go down before the bookmakers like so many ninepins, whilst the layers of the odds to all comers continue to stand up and grow rich.
Impressed with that view of the situation, Gully speedily became a professional betting man, or "leg," as such persons were then termed, and, by paying intelligent attention to business, met with prompt and extraordinary success. He commenced at a fortunate time—just, indeed, as betting was beginning to be recognised as a business, and when men were awakening more and more to the fact that it was better for them to deal with a professional layer of the odds all round than to make bets with each other. Gully speedily attracted attention in the ring. Gentlemen who had taken notice of his native shrewdness and capacity for figures entrusted him with commissions to back their horses, so that, in a manner, fortune was thrust upon him, the many secrets he became possessed of in this line of business enabling him to work in a powerful light, whilst his less fortunate brethren of the ring had to carry on their betting work pretty much in the dark.
The commissions with which he was so frequently entrusted showed Gully what were the expectations of owners, and not only which horses might win, but also some as well which were sure to be beaten; because on the turf there was then, as there is now, two kinds of "commissions"—one to back a given horse, or it might be two or three horses, for the same event, the other to lay against animals meant to lose. With "such dispositions of things" in his favour, he is a poor hand at the business whocannot, when the struggle is over, show a winning balance. The days of Gully were those of heavy betting, so far as individual speculation was concerned; that is to say, there might then be a hundred men on the turf who betted to stakes of hundreds or thousands; but at the present time, although individual bets are not perhaps made to such large amounts, the number of persons who bet is as hundreds to one to what the number was when John Gully was a prominent person in the ring.
At the "period" referred to, say from about 1818 to 1840, race-horses were less numerous than they are at present, and bookmakers, moreover, were not so plentiful as now; but most of them managed to do a good business and to put money in their purses. Gully, gathering experience day by day, was soon able to play a prominent part in the heavy speculations which formed a feature of the turf in those times; and whenever he thought any commission entrusted to him was a really good one—that is to say, as denoting the chance of the horse to win—he followed the lead of his employer, and by doing so often won considerable sums; whilst if he knew, as he frequently did, that a horse was sure to be beaten, he would spiritedly lay the odds against its chance of winning. It is recorded that on one occasion he was engaged to back two horses in a race to win, and, along with a confederate, he had five to lay against; the two which he backed to win ran first and second, the others, as had been "arranged," came in a long way behind the winner. A few chances of that kind soon bring grist to a betting man's mill.
By the year 1827 Gully's business had so flourished that he was able to purchase for £4,200 (then a large sum to pay for a horse) the winner of that year's Blue Ribbon of the turf—Mameluke, the property of Lord Jersey. The horse was bought with a view to winning the St. Leger, and the transactions made by Gully on behalf of his purchase afford a glimpse of the betting figures of that period. As soon as the bargain had been effected between Lord Jersey and himself, Gully requested that it should not be made known till he had obtained a good opportunity of backing the horse for the great race of September (the St. Leger), which he was enabled to do at Ascot. At that famous race meeting he accepted the odds of 10 to 1 against his horse to the tune of £1,000, thus standing to win £10,000 if his horse should prove victorious at Doncaster. Not contented, however, with that considerable speculation, Mr. Gully made several other bets, as, for instance, one that Mameluke would beat ten horses (in the St. Leger), which horses he at once named; likewise that his colt would beat a lot of nine horses in the same race—these he also, of course, named. All three bets were made for the same amounts, namely, £10,000 to £1,000, and in the end they had to be paid by Mr. Gully, as, unfortunately for him, the name of Matilda, the horse which won the St. Leger of 1827, was written in both lists, so that after the St. Leger had been run he found he had a sum of £3,000 to pay, every penny of which was duly handed over—two-thirds of it to Crockford—on the day of reckoning.
The struggle for that year's St. Leger was no sooner over than it was alleged there had been foul play in connection with the race, and there is great probability that the allegation was not unfounded, and that Mameluke was "prevented" from winning the race—a species of "turf tactics" not unknown even at present, and occasionally resorted to when other modes of "getting at" a horse, or his trainer, or jockey, do not prove successful. The chicanery of the turf is varied in its action: when the animal itself can be "doctored," that of course makes certain the "nobbled" horse will lose; a pail of water—"just a real hearty drink" (as a well-known northern trainer used to say)—given to the animal a little time before the race falls to be run, generally, but not always, ensures defeat. Other means of "doctoring" a racehorse are sometimes resorted to, it being always a safer plan to make the horse "right" than to depend upon a jockey to "pull it," as riders whose evil intention has been suspected have been changed at the last moment, and the horse, being entrusted to the guidance of an honest jockey, may win instead of losing the race. In the case of Matilda, it has been stated that the starter was the guilty party—that, in fact, he had been bribed to give his signal to "go" when it would be least advantageous to Mr. Gully's horse, which, being a restless, irritable animal, contributed much to the tactics of the opposition by its fractiousness at the starting-post.
The winner of the race was the property of Mr. Petre, who has been mentioned as being a patron of Robert Ridsdale, and in allprobability that person was the engineer of the opposition to Gully's horse. The two ultimately became partners, or "confederates," in a good many of the turf events of their day; but it is quite clear they were not acting in concert at Doncaster on the occasion of the St. Leger of 1827. At what date a formal partnership—if any such ever existed—was entered upon by Ridsdale and Gully is not known, but it is more than likely they had on some occasions "worked the oracle" together for their mutual advantage before the period of their partnership. Ridsdale had become a man of means, lived in good style, and was at one time possessed of a hundred horses, keeping up a liberal establishment. Considering his beginnings, he was apparently a man of considerable culture; he possessed some of the best books of the period, and also read, or at any rate purchased, all the popular magazines of his day, his living-rooms being usually littered with newspapers and ephemeral prints and pamphlets of the period. Well-trained servants waited on his guests; the productions of his cook attracted the attention of his brethren of the hunt; his claret was of the best, so was his port; whilst his conversation was always attractive, and his tongue fluent and persuasive. He rode, of course, to hounds—indeed, hunting was a passion with him; he had a string of well-bred hunters from which he derived by occasional sales a handsome profit; he bred and trained at his place other horses as well, and was never without a hundred or two with which to accommodate any of his friends who had run short of money.
There can be no question but that Robert Ridsdale had a finger in several of the dirty pies that were cooked when he was active on the turf. Many a well-planned victory (and even better-managed loss) is said to have been due to his busy brain. His machinations were far-reaching, some of them taking a long time to mature; but when such events came off they generally resulted in the right way for Ridsdale, who was reputed at the time (1824) to have planned a way of winning a very large sum of money over the race for the St. Leger of that year.
The story of "Jerry's victory" has been often told in turf circles and sporting journals. I shall, however, give it here in few words, as an example of racing fraud which unfortunately has, over and over again, proved successful. Jerry, the winner of the St. Leger of 1824, was the property of a Mr. Gascoigne, a well-known sportsman of his day; and the horse, ridden by Benjamin Smith, a famous jockey of his era, beat twenty-two competitors in the great struggle for the Blue Ribbon of the North. Jerry was to have been piloted in the race by one Edwards, a horseman of that time, but for good and sufficient reasons he was at the eleventh hour superseded in the saddle by Benjamin Smith, as will presently be shown. Croft, the trainer of the horse, was exceedingly confident of the ability of Jerry to win the St. Leger, and did not keep his opinion a secret; but, whilst the animal was being wound up for the occasion and was known to be doing all that was required of him on his training ground, pleasing both the owner and his friends by the style in which he did his morning gallops, he wasapparently an undoubted victim of the "legs," who never tired of betting the odds against his chance of winning the race. All comers were readily accommodated, so that in the course of a few weeks, to the great astonishment of his trainer and owner, tens of thousands were industriously laid against Jerry's chance of winning.
That Ridsdale was the undoubted engineer of the opposition was in due time discovered; and that he had found out, as he thought, a way of making Mr. Gascoigne's colt a "safe one" came to be known. The trainer of the horse, as the fierce market opposition to it progressed, naturally enough became suspicious of foul play, and in consequence watched the course of the betting with feverish anxiety, but only to find, as the day for the decision of the race waxed nearer, that this colt was being more and more "peppered" by a certain clique of betting men. Croft could discover nothing wrong at home—all his people appeared to be acting an honest part. The anxiety of the perplexed trainer was all the greater, because by his recommendation the owner of Jerry and many of his friends had backed the horse to win big stakes. The opposition to a horse's chance of winning an important race which finds voice in the betting ring is usually of great significance, because shrewd men do not bet against a horse to lose thousands without knowing what they are about.
In the case of the opposition to the St. Leger hero of 1824, the trainer of Jerry was happily able, almost at the eleventh hour, to solve the vexatious problem. Having visited the subscription rooms on the Monday before the race,and listened once more to the babble of opposition to his colt, Croft was proceeding after a long walk to his quarters, when, as he passed a toll on his road, he witnessed the arrival of a carriage drawn by four horses, and while the vehicle was pulled up for a moment he recognised its occupants. They were Ridsdale and Edwards the jockey, the latter being engaged to ride the St. Leger candidate of Mr. Gascoigne. The sight of these two persons arriving at Doncaster in the same post-chaise acted as a revelation to the trainer. In one moment he saw in his mind's eye the source of all the monetary opposition to the horse. The jockey, it was obvious enough, had been "got at," and the animal was destined to be "pulled," whilst the mechanism of the robbery was undoubtedly planned by the man in the post-chaise, Robert Ridsdale.
Croft acted with decision. Next morning at breakfast time he waited on his employer, in order to tell him what he had witnessed and what his suspicions were. Mr. Gascoigne at once agreed to his trainer's proposition to put up another jockey than Edwards on the horse, and Benjamin Smith was very quietly engaged for the duty. This matter was well managed, and till Jerry was saddled for the contest no one expected that the jockey would be changed, as Edwards had been dressed for his work an hour before the time set for the race. When Benjamin Smith was seen on the back of Mr. Gascoigne's colt consternation seized the betting men; those of them who a few minutes previously had been loudest in their offers against Jerry now turned round and began to back the horse with all their might, so as to be able, inthe event of its success, to lighten their load of liabilities. Jerry won the race by a distance of two lengths, thus bearing out his trainer's high opinion of his ability. The horse which started favourite (in the betting) for the St. Leger of 1824 was Streatham, the odds offered against it being about 4½ to 1. Brutandorf was second favourite in the betting at 6 to 1; the price of Jerry, at the start for the race, is given as being 9 to 1; but before it became known that Smith would ride, 16 to 1 had been vigorously shouted in the betting ring; 7½ to 1, however, was the real starting price. It is believed that Gully laid a large amount of money against the winner, probably, therefore, he was in the secret of the opposition to Jerry, whether he was at that time acting as the "pal" of Ridsdale or not.
The partnership between them was not formed, it is believed, till about the year 1829-30. The two men were at all events intimately associated in the winning of the Derby of 1832 by St. Giles, and the winning of the St. Leger of the same year by Margrave. Curious tales have been told regarding the victory of St. Giles; twenty-two horses contested the race, in which Margrave (winner of the St. Leger) was a competitor, whilst Ridsdale also had a colt running in the race; but St. Giles, which started first favourite, won very easily. The winner was bred by Ridsdale at Merton, his place at York, and it was whispered at the time that the horse was a year older than it should have been as a Derby winner; in other words, that it was four, instead of three years old. But, to use the words of an outspoken turfite, "That would have been nothing for such men todo: Ridsdale could have managed such a bit of turf business easily, being a perfect master of the art of racing roguery." No objection was, however, made to St. Giles on the ground of fraud, but a caveat was lodged on the ground of wrongful description in the entering of the horse for the race, which in the Derby and some other classic events, as is well known, takes place when the colt is a yearling. On the case of misdescription being referred for decision to three gentlemen of turf celebrity and honour, their verdict was given in favour of Ridsdale; it was in the name of the latter that the horse had been entered for the Derby.
Extraordinary revelations have occasionally been made of the amounts won by the confederates by means of St. Giles' victory; both of them, it is certain, were large gainers by the success of their horse, in favour of which the "oracle" is stated to have been so industriously "worked" that not more than three of the horses running in that year's Derby were really trying to win; the horse placed third was Trustee, the property of Ridsdale; Margrave, the fourth in the struggle, belonged to Gully, and afterwards won the St. Leger. The winnings of the partners on the Derby were at one time computed at £100,000, £40,000 being Ridsdale's share, the rest falling to Gully. Some aver that the partners quarrelled over the division of the spoil, but that was not the case, as the partnership certainly lasted till after the Doncaster meeting.
Ridsdale was undoubtedly an adept in such arrangements as have been hinted at with reference to the clearing of the path for his horse.In that year's Derby there would probably be half-a-dozen horses which might have proved more or less dangerous to St. Giles; but by some means or other—money, in fact—the owners of these animals, or their trainers or jockeys, would be gained over by the confederacy, at a cost, perhaps, for the half-dozen, of some twenty or five-and-twenty thousand pounds. As a matter of course, St. Giles had been used simply as an instrument of gambling; as a two-year-old, his quality as a race-horse had been hidden by his having undoubtedly been "pulled" in his earlier races, so that when the day of his victory arrived, the odds against his chance might be large enough to make it worth the while of his owner to let him run.
Margrave, the St. Leger winner, as has been stated, ran fourth in the Derby; but probably that horse was good enough to have won the Epsom trophy, had St. Giles not been on duty; but, had it done so, the odds against its winning the St. Leger would not have been anything like 8 to 1, the price quoted at the start for the great Doncaster trophy. By the success of Margrave another large stake was won by the confederates; the amount has been variously estimated at from forty to ninety thousand pounds. Some time after the decision of this event, a quarrel ensued between the partners, which brought their connection with each other to an end.
The affair was somewhat of acause célèbrein its day, but may be dismissed in a few words. It would appear, from what was made public at the time, that Ridsdale had insinuated hehad not received his fair share of the cash won over Margrave, stating that Gully had obtained £12,000 more than he had. Gully, resenting this statement, struck Ridsdale in the hunting-field in a brutal way with his whip; a trial took place at York Assizes, when damages to the extent of £500 were awarded to Ridsdale, who had a large number of sympathisers on his side.
The two men, while their association lasted, effected some bold transactions on what may be called the smaller races of the time, putting large sums in their purses by the exercise of their cunning, or, as it would now be termed, "astuteness." The monetary details of those transactions have never been made public in detail, but were estimated at the time from the extent of the settlements of the partners at Tattersall's, where both men, so far as their credit was concerned, were held in high esteem. One of their intended "good things," which did not come off, was Little Red Rover's attempt to win the Derby of 1830, which was won by a celebrated racer called Priam. Had Red Rover won, the confederates would have pocketed between them the better part of £80,000.
Mr. Gully won the Derby in 1846 with his horse Pyrrhus I., a victory which enabled him to add largely to his bank account. In the same year he was also so fortunate as to win the Oaks with his mare Mendicant, afterwards purchased by the well-known Sir Joseph Hawley, to whom she proved a veritable gold mine, being the dam of a horse which brought to the exchequer of that sporting baronet a sum of £80,000; that animalwas Beadsman, who became the sire of Bluegown, another Derby winner, which also brought a large sum—£100,000 it is said—to the coffers of Sir Joseph. Pyrrhus I. was a cheap horse compared with the cost of such cattle at the present time; he was bought by John Day, the well-known trainer, at Doncaster as a yearling, who shared his purchase with Mr. Gully. The Member for Pontefract was lucky in other than turf speculations, by which it has been said he cleared a quarter of a million sterling; he speculated largely in coal-fields, all of which are represented to have proved remunerative.
As time went on the ex-pugilist acquired good manners, and became somewhat more courtly than when he was lessee of a public-house. Gully was hospitable, and although his style was less refined than that of Ridsdale, who "took on no end of polish," his rooms at Newmarket were frequented by the best men on the turf. His dinners were admirably cooked and served; his wines could not be excelled; and he was able to offer all the delicacies of the season to his friends in the same style as if he had been to the manner born. At the ripe age of eighty Gully died, his death taking place at his luxurious seat of Corkin Hall, near Durham. An immense concourse of people attended his funeral, many present being of the rank and fashion of the period.
Ridsdale, after the trial at York, and the severance of his partnership with Gully, began gradually to fall from his high estate. His star had begun to set. His hand, to use a common simile, lost its cunning, and although his journey downhill was once or twice arrested in a pleasantsort of way, the stable loft in which he died was reached at last. Ridsdale's downfall began with the defeat of a horse called Hornsea for the St. Leger of 1835. On the success of this animal he had, so to speak, thrown his last throw—a big stake—and he lost it; Queen of Trumps being first for the St. Leger of that year, the horse supported by Ridsdale only getting second. When the settling day arrived Ridsdale could not "show"—in plain language, he was unable to pay—notwithstanding all the thousands he had won over the victories of St. Giles and Margrave, not less, when bad debts were deducted, probably than £70,000. In order to do his best for his creditors, Ridsdale ordered all his possessions to the hammer; his horses and oxen, his plate and pictures, his furniture and wines, were all offered to the highest bidders.
Fortune, however, had still a smile or two in store for him, one of which may here be noticed. At the Merton sale there was offered a mean-looking foal which no one would look at, but in due time that same animal, then known as Bloomsbury, won the Derby of 1839, for which he had been entered and trained under the superintendence of William, a brother of Robert Ridsdale. Again the breath of rumour got to work; the winner of the race, it was asserted, was not the horse which it was represented to be, but another animal a year older. An objection lodged against the horse, not on that ground, but because of misdescription, was overruled by the stewards; but Mr. Fulwar Craven, owner of the second horse, claimed the stakes and raised an action for payment, inwhich, however, he was defeated. Bloomsbury never ran as a two-year-old, the Derby being his first race. As "Wildrake" says, in his "Pictorial Gallery of English Race-horses": "He was a most fortunate horse—though most unfortunate to his owners and backers. He won the Derby and a lawsuit. He caused the non-settlement of a settlement. He embroiled Lords and Commons, enriched poor men, impoverished wealth, and made all the world stare when their eyes were opened."
Ridsdale, as has been indicated, lost his nerve; with confidence in himself gone, he forsook the old haunts where he had been so well received, he shunned his former intimates, and gradually became so reduced in purse as to be without a lodging. In the end he was found dead in a stable loft at Newmarket, with three-halfpence in his pocket.