Part 15

The following description, written immediately after its occurrence, will afford readers all necessary information: "And now we have arrived at the race of the meeting--if not indeed of the century. As we have no means of measuring the properties of race-horses--at least none that are put into effect worthy of acceptance as authority on point of speed--we must take it for granted that the Flying Dutchman and Voltigeur are about the best horses that the modern turf has seen. Upon this conventional estimate, the contest, the issue of which is about to be disposed of, created more interest than any match between horses within my memory. The weighing had been adjusted to a grain; and thus the runners were set down: Match for £1,000, half forfeit, two miles over the whole course; Lord Eglinton's The Flying Dutchman, by Bay Middleton out of Barbelle, 5 yrs., 8 st. 8½ lb.; Lord Zetland's Voltigeur, by Voltaire out of Martha Lynn. The pair were at even betting almost from the period when the race was publicly announced up to the day on which it was run, and as they went to the post. When the flag fell, Voltigeur went off with the running at the top of his pace, taking a lead of at least three lengths, and making very severe play, the heavy state of the ground being taken into account. In this way they rounded the last turn, when Marlow, the rider of the Dutchman, called upon his horse with a request very pointedly urged. As they passed the stand it was stride for stride, and a struggle of desperate effort. It was too much, however, for the young one--he tired the sooner, and the Flying Dutchman passed the winning-chair first by a short length. Both horses showed marks of the keenness of the contest."

After winning the match, Lord Eglinton announced that his career on the turf had ceased.

It would not be difficult to fill a few pages of this work with accounts of several other matches of more or less interest, but those already given are sufficient to give the reader a fair idea of that description of racing, which, except in particular instances, is not of great interest. One other match, however, is worth referring to--the match between Lady Elizabeth and Julius, both in their day horses of celebrity. The death of Julius, whose career was terminated by a friendly bullet, was the means of directing public attention to the feats and failures of that excellent horse.

The sporting papers of the day contained the following obituary paragraph: "The son of St. Albans and Julie was bred at Her Majesty's stud at Hampton Court, and became the property of the late Duke of Newcastle, in whose colours in 1866 he won a couple of races as a two-year-old. The following year he won several races, but was defeated in the celebrated match with Lady Elizabeth, the latter (then a two-year-old), in receipt of 9 lb., only winning by a short head. The match was for 1,000 sovs., run over the Bretby Stakes Course, Fordham riding the victress, and Daley Julius. The Duke of Newcastle's colt ran third to Achievement and Hermit for the Doncaster St. Leger, but perhaps his most notable performance was winning the Cesarewitch in the same season with 8 st. on his back--an impost that had not been carried first past the post in the race since Faugh-a-Ballagh's victory in 1844. In 1868 the Duke of Newcastle's colt beat both his St. Leger conquerors. Hermit went down before him in the Newmarket Biennial Stakes in the Craven Meeting, and the pair were subsequently matched for 1,000 sovs. over the Two Middle Miles. The event came off at the first Spring gathering, and Julius (8 st. 10 lb.), in the hands of Daley, beat his opponent by a couple of lengths, Hermit's weight being 8 st. 9 lb. The Beaufort Cup (about two miles and a half) at Bath he won by fifteen lengths from Achievement, the latter presenting him with 6 lb., Gomera and Goodwood finishing behind the pair. Julius afterwards won the Warwick Cup, but in the Doncaster Cup he met his conqueror in Mandrake, who defeated him by a length. The son of St. Albans did not run afterwards, and was relegated to the stud."

In taking leave of the subject this much may be said, that matches were the means of evincing men's love of the sport for its own sake. There was a stake of money in risk, of course--it is the fashion--but some years ago, in the days of Lord Glasgow, George Payne, and "the Admiral," matches were not so much ventures in gambling as tests to find out the better horse. Speaking generally, matches are not popular with the general body of race-goers, who delight more in those contests which are competed for by a crowd of horses, and where fair odds can be had about any particular animal. Laying odds on or taking even money is unpalatable work to the great majority of those who attend race meetings, and, moreover, in few instances--not ten times in twelve--do we see the real merit of a race-horse when it runs in a match. Very often the jockeys have a private understanding with each other that they will only race for a given portion of the distance, and often enough the struggle is won by the finesse of the rider, and the victory won or the defeat sustained has no bearing on the merits of the horse.

WITH THE PROPHETS.

"The ingenuity and industry expended on what is called 'tipping' in connection with horse-racing ought to bring good fortune in no halting measure to the professors of the art, who appear to spend their lives in trying to enrich everybody but themselves."

So wrote, some four or five years ago, an essayist in the pages of one of the "superior" magazines.

That the business of tipping goes on as briskly as ever, the experts in that line of turf illusion being still busily occupied in benevolent endeavours to confer benefit on their fellow-men, can be ascertained by all who will take the trouble to glance over the advertising columns of the numerous sporting journals of the time.

A point worthy of notice in connection with these announcements is the style now adopted in fashioning them. New and improved methods of communicating with the public are constantly being devised. Tipping nowadays is a "business" of importance requiring large dealings with the telegraph; but long ago--say about the close of the "thirties," and in the "forties" of the present century, when the writer became interested in horse-racing, consequent on having won a few sovereigns by the victory of Merry Monarch in the Derby--tipping was much less obtrusive than it is to-day, and was carried on chiefly by means of what may be called "disguises." Such announcements as were made public usually bore that the advertiser was in exclusive possession of information about a horse which was certain to win the Derby or some other important race; but, as a rule, the great event decided at Epsom was, in the beginning of tipping, the race most favoured, and the person advertising not seldom posed as "a gentleman's valet out of a place," or as "a stableman dying of consumption," or "an old military man," or as some person very remote from the being he really was.

"Who, then," it will be asked, "were those persons?" Well, as there were not so many of them as there are to-day, when "tipping," as was said a few months ago to a magistrate, is a "profession," it will not prove a difficult task to give information about their ways of working, as I happen to be able to speak with some degree of knowledge of two or three of the number who were among the first to advertise in days when the mediums for such announcements were anything but numerous, and advertising was somewhat costly, there being then an advertisement duty of one shilling and sixpence exigible on each announcement, whilst postage was also expensive.

In the beginning of race tipping the Queen's head had not been invented. The outside prophets had at first only a local audience, but even during the "thirties" London was occupied by a vast population, and there was always a sufficient percentage of its inhabitants so interested in racing as to find employment for half-a-dozen tipsters, in addition to those engaged on such newspapers of the time as kept prophets, some of whom were "verse-jinglers" of no mean capacity, as a selection from their poetic prognostications would prove, were a collection of the best of them to be made and published with the necessary notes of explanation.

The first of the prophets to whom I will refer were a man and a woman, both persons of ability, able to assume a variety of characters, and by doing so carry on their little game industriously from season to season. There was no collusion between them, however; they were in no way connected.

The man, before he began work as a tipster, had been for several years under butler in one of the big Pall Mall clubs, and having drawn the winner of the Chester Cup in a plethoric "sweep"--many of which used to be, and I believe still are, organised in London in connection with the more important races--he found himself in possession of sufficient funds, including the money he had saved in service, to become lessee of a public-house in a little street off Fetter Lane, in which for a time he did well, so well that he took courage and married, his wife being able to assist him in his business.

It is almost needless to say, with a landlord possessed of a taste for the turf, his house came in time to be much frequented by the smaller fry of sporting men having tastes in common and being fond of betting, although the sums risked seldom exceeded half-a-crown, or at most double that amount.

One evil day a constant frequenter of the house introduced a friend of his, who was anxious to start a betting list, and as Wingrave, the landlord, thought a list in the house would improve his business, he gave consent, and Bill Holmes commenced business at the "Caxton Arms." For a period of a little over twelve months all went well, customers increased, money was made, and claims punctually met.

At length there came a frowning of Fortune. The list-keeper was himself a keen bettor, and more than once "perilled his purse" by having all his money on an animal he thought "sure to win." Having backed a horse on his own account to win a particular Chester Cup--in those days the "Tradesmen's Plate" was a most pronounced betting race--and the animal having failed to do what was expected. Holmes was unfortunately unable to come to "the scratch" over the animal which did win, and knowing he could not meet the claims which would be made against him on behalf of the winner, which had been heavily backed at his list, he at once left London, to the great consternation of Wingrave, who dreaded he would in some way be held responsible for the misdeeds of the runaway list-keeper. His foreboding was more than realised; an incensed mob of the creditors of Holmes, taking the law into their own hands, all but wrecked the house. It was in vain the landlord told the crowd he had no concern with the defalcations of the list-keeper; the people would not be pacified. Out of the affair there arose a police case, and although Wingrave was able to convince the magistrate that he had himself been a victim, and had been more sinned against than sinning, he was deprived of his license at the first opportunity, and was unable to obtain possession of another house. Luckily, although two days' drawings had been confiscated by the enraged punters, the ill-used landlord, after paying all claims, had still a few pounds at his banker's, when he was compelled to shut shop.

Nothing in the public-house line of business being likely to turn up, Wingrave, by the advice of his shrewd wife (her father had been a pugilist, and afterwards lessee of a gin-shop in the region of Lambeth), turned tipster, and under the designation of "a retired club steward," offered to give all who pleased to forward half-a-crown to his house in Pemberton Row the name of a horse which would win the Derby; or to those who entrusted him with double that amount, he promised, in addition, to give the name of a filly that would be first in the Oaks, and so ensure a remunerative double event. His Derby prophecy proved a true one, the horse he gave being Voltigeur. The filly prophesied for the Oaks, however, only attained the rather barren honour of a place; still, the tip was considered a good one, fair odds being attainable, which led to much business being done in respect of the next two or three tips. Voltigeurs, however, do not run and win every day, and in time Wingrave came to know by the falling off which took place in the remittances that he would require to make a new departure, which he at once did.

His next move was made in the disguise of "Henry Buckstone, late valet to a sporting nobleman, who, being in possession of several important racing secrets, will send the winners of Two Thousand Guineas and Chester Cup to a select number of gentlemen on receiving a remittance of five shillings." Communications were to be addressed to a stationer's shop in Holborn, and for a time letters came in abundance, as many on some days as fifteen. Once again, as may be said, the ex-publican "struck ile," and a flow of fortune resulted which, happily for Wingrave, was kept up by the consecutive selection of some six or eight good winners. But in time this tipster, like others before and after him, dropped out of notice, although it is certain that he flourished, like the proverbial green bay-tree, for several years.

During the period which Wingrave carried on business, tipsters had much in their favour, the big events of the season being betted upon for months before the day set for their decision.

Fifty years ago, for instance, quotations on the Chester Cup were numerous in the December of the year previous to its being run. Such arrangements, of course, helped the tipsters of the outer school, as people were early in the field to back their fancies or the selections of the adventurers who sent prophecies. For these men the fact of being occasionally successful in naming the winner of a great race, at what was thought a "long price," was just so much capital gained. Two or three successful tips enabled a man to play "the game" to a remunerative tune for at east six months; every time he advertised he obtained numerous replies on the strength of his previous successes.

Before the advent of the "retired club steward" there was a person at work whose success as a tipster was the subject of much gossip among needy bettors; this was the lady tipster already referred to. Yes, a veritable woman, and clever at the work! I first heard about her in "Jessop's," a night house in Catherine Street, among the frequenters of which her tips seemed to have made an impression. The little badly-printed circular containing her prophecies was signed "A. M. Weather." The name of this female foreteller of turf events was said to be Adelaide Merryweather; she was, so I was told by some of the "knowing ones" who frequented "Jessop's," the widow of an actor who had been engaged for a time in one of the then transpontine theatres as a delineator of small parts. The woman's own name was Weather, her husband's name being Merry, and the nom de plume she adopted as a prophetess was a combination of the two; but she traded in tips under other names as well, one of them being John Screwman. Her house, or at least one of the places to which her letters were sent, was in Chapel Street, Soho Square, and, as the postman of the period would have been able to testify, she carried on a thriving business.

Another of the names assumed by Mrs. Merryweather when she put on her prophetic mantle was, if my memory is not proving treacherous, "Arthur Lancefield, late of Middleham." I am writing only what I know, or what I believe from trustworthy information to be true, and my belief is that Mrs. Merryweather was, if not the "inventor" of the method of sending the names of different horses to different batches of applicants, one of the earliest tipsters to adopt and systematise the plan. Trading as she did under three or four noms de plume, she speedily accumulated a long list of names of persons who backed horses; so that when she adopted another name and changed her address, she could send circulars to former customers stating that, from private information which she had received, she believed Mr. Brown Jones (or any other person) was anxious to find out the winner of the Derby (or whatever race might be on the tapis), and that, on receiving half-a-crown, a rare double event would be forwarded to his address.

One of this woman's most successful hits was reported to have been made in the character of an invalid jockey's wife, her circular on that occasion being worded as follows: "A jockey's wife, her husband being unable to ride now in consequence of having sustained a paralytic shock of the lower limbs, does not ask for charity; but being anxious for the sake of her young children to earn a living, will be glad to hear from gentlemen who take an interest in racing. Her husband, having been a noted trial-rider, knows well the form of all the horses now running. Address, Sarah Chiffman, 94A, Great Pulteney Street, Golden Square." This advertisement, I was told, was looked upon as being genuine, and also that half-sovereigns, to cover letters from the date of its issue to the day of the Cambridgeshire, were liberally contributed to the wife of the unfortunate horseman; many people connected with racing affairs fancied by subscribing that they would obtain "something good," whilst the fact of three winners of three races, and a second and third in two more being given to start with, was thought sufficient evidence of the bona fides of the advertiser.

For three or four years Mrs. Merryweather experienced a prosperous time, customers being numerous, as, by means of her system of sending different horses to different persons one or more batches of them were certain to have had winners sent to them, and these fortunate ones were not slow to sound the trumpet of her fame among their friends, so that on some occasions she enjoyed a run of success. How her career ended I cannot say from personal knowledge. Fred Booth, a frequent visitor to "Jessop's," and afterwards a bookmaker in a considerable way of business, used to relate that she married one of her clients, a wholesale grain merchant in the North of England, who had found his way to her house intent on giving the prophet a very handsome present in return for a double event which she had been lucky enough to send him. The gentleman was greatly surprised on discovering that his tipster was a woman, and a good-looking one, possessed of refined manners; and according to Booth, who spoke as if he knew the gentleman, the story came to a conclusion in the neighbouring church in the most orthodox fashion.

I can from personal knowledge describe the doings of one of the tipping fraternity. About the year 1842 or 1843 (I am not sure which of these years it was), I went one evening to Sadler's Wells Theatre to witness the play of King John, and after the tragedy I supped with one of the actors in his lodgings in Arlington Street, near the theatre. We were joined at table by a fellow-lodger of my friend, who seemed to know nothing but what savoured of the turf, and he was so complaisant as to tell me the names of several horses which were pretty certain to win, and, as I know, did win some of the coming events. Being invited, we shared a bottle of capital claret along with him in his "den," as he called his parlour, in which I noted, scattered about, some dozens of newspapers and especially several copies of Bell's Life.

When opportunity offered I asked my friend who his fellow-lodger was. "Well," he replied, "he is, or rather has been, on the press, having some three or four years ago been connected with one or other of the minor weekly publications; but he is now, he tells me, playing a far more profitable part; he has become a racing tipster and makes a good income at that business. His plan is to select about ten or a dozen of the most likely horses and send a different one to win the race and another, or perhaps two others, to get places, to each of his customers, taking care, of course, to keep a record of what he does, and the names and addresses of those who correspond with him.

"Two or three years ago he made quite a hit with a horse called Little Wonder, which, as I dare say you know, won a Derby. That event, my dear boy, set him on his legs; the landlord of the big gin-palace not far from here, who won a good round sum by means of his tip, gave him a present of fifty pounds, and judging from his correspondence and the many persons who evidently call to consult him he must be making money, but whether or not he may be taking care of it is another matter. I suspect, however, it is with him as it often is with others similarly circumstanced, a case of 'lightly come, lightly go.'"