Part 23

"What we want, you know, Smooth, is a certainty."

"Quite so, Sir Richard; and as only one, you know, can win, the thing is to discover it."

What was generally resolved upon to begin with was, that each of those present should, a month before the race, find out by means of a formal trial his best horse for the handicap at the published weights; next, that in a couple of days thereafter the three should be tried together along with the best public horse they were able to buy or borrow to take part in the trial at a weight agreed upon.

Smooth, to make sure, invariably superintended such trials himself, and, being an adept at the business, he could generally foretell the result as it would be in the race itself to a hair's breadth. Then he had the "form," as it is called, of such of the other horses as might compete at his finger ends, or rather, to express it literally, on his tongue. Smooth's verdict on the trial was anxiously listened to: "It will do; only one can win the race, and I think it will be Pretty Jane; she will be about half a stone better than Magician on the day." Then followed an interesting conversation, in which it was shown by Smooth that, on public form, there were in addition to the two which had just finished such a fine gallop, other three, if not four, that might prove dangerous. One of these, Smooth knew, could be made safe, and if the owners of the others would swim in with Pretty Jane, all would come right; they could then go in for a big thing, and very likely bring it off.

The effort is made.

Smooth's philosophy illustrated in his constant iteration of "only one can win, you know," ultimately prevails, and the three most dangerous animals in the race are made safe, although two of the owners insist on rather stiff terms. N'importe, the handicap can be won, and plenty of money along with it.

In the end its success is ensured, Pretty Jane beating Artful Dodger, a rod in pickle prepared by a quiet school of turfites for the same race, by only a head; "too near a thing to be pleasant," as Lord Strapmore said after the struggle was over, and the confederacy had obtained breathing time for a glass of champagne and mutual congratulations. Such schemes, it has to be said, are not always successful; but if a man can win a couple of big handicaps in twenty years, he requires nothing more in the way of turf success.

The kind of business indicated in the foregoing remarks is frequently attempted; there is a gentleman often at work, who is reputed to have a voice in four or five stables, and that being so he is able to prearrange, with considerable success, a good deal of the turf work of the period.

Few persons outside the pale of turf manipulation can possibly be aware of how much money it is possible to win over a big handicap or other good betting race--the Cesarewitch, Cambridgeshire, or Royal Hunt Cup, for example. Over and over again such sums as thirty, fifty, and even seventy thousand pounds have been "landed," as the phrase goes, by the winner of a great race. Sometimes a man is fortunate enough to find himself in possession of a horse entered for one of the popular handicaps that "cannot lose"; and if the ability of the animal be only known to himself and the trainer, he may be able, at the risk of a few hundreds, to back it to win many thousand pounds.

"Working the oracle," with intent to make a grand coup, is work which requires to be gone about with judgment; but in a race where twenty or more stables are represented it is difficult to ensure success, there being always somebody interested who will be obstinate, or who demands too large a share of the spoil, or insists upon some impossible condition. When the Mr. Smooth of such an enterprise has made some progress in his negotiations, he often enough finds himself face to face with the representative of another clique engaged in the same business; it is not, indeed, the first time that three distinct syndicates have come into collision, each fancying itself to hold the winning card. Which is to give way to the other so as to make the race a certainty for a given horse comes in at the end to be a matter for much argument and delicate handling. At their respective weights it may look a very near thing for each of three or four horses, and as an owner naturally fancies his own horse most, he is usually reluctant to swim in with any other person or clique, unless he becomes of opinion that the doing so presents a certainty of the horse winning.

"In the matter of arranging a handicap," said a gentleman of much experience to the writer, "my arguments are simple enough. I put the case this way. By agreeing among ourselves we can land a first-rate stake, say sixty thousand; well, that is twenty thousand for each of us when so far as I can see we have a certainty. Is it not better, then, to co-operate? There will be other races, and a horse will keep. Why oppose each other when, by working as one man, we can land the sum I have named?"

It has occurred before now that a horse which has been, so to speak, left out in the cold on the occasion of an "arrangement," has ultimately proved the best animal. Such rehearsals as have been pictured used to be common, and still take place.

"What a splendid field there is!" said one gentleman to another, a year or two ago, as a start was being effected for the Haymarket Handicap.

"Yes," was the reply, "no less, I see, than fifteen. What a pity that three only of the lot are trying!"

Great blunders are sometimes made by men who have horses in handicaps. However good a horse may be, and however long the animal may have been kept with a view to a grand coup it may be found when the weights are published that it is not given such a good chance as that supposed to be conferred on some other animal, the result being that the owner does not accept, and probably, to his great chagrin, finds his rival also among the non-contents, his rival having been imbued with similar fears. At other times a lot of horses do not accept because "something" has been "thrown in" at a feather weight which everybody thinks cannot possibly be beaten, although in the end that something runs nearly last, Ruperra to wit, in the Royal Hunt Cup of 1880. Many a time and oft a horse not believed to possess any merit wins an important race, and owners and trainers alike find again and again, to use the words of the Scottish poet, that "the best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agley."

While perusing these remarks it should be kept in mind that there are not a few gentlemen on the turf who decline to take part in such schemes as have been indicated, but run their horses fair and square, so far as they can control them. Their trainers, however, may not always be quite so scrupulous. The "arrangements" referred to, it ought to be remembered, involve such an amount of chicanery, that the aid of one or two bookmakers must be called in, the doing so, of course, involving the making of certain concessions to these worthies. The knowledge thus acquired by such persons is at once used against the public, the betting public, who soon discover that their mission is to pay the piper. The main object of what is done in the way of planning and scheming is to secure, at the least possible risk, a large haul of money over a race, and, to accomplish this, all matters must be gone about with the utmost care and secrecy. To achieve such a consummation is the reason why not a few owners of horses place themselves entirely in the hands of some Dudley Smooth of the turf. The first advice given by such a person is, "Accept with your whole string of horses, we will need them all." As the business of arrangement progresses, each of the unintended animals is made in turn to benefit the bookmaker by being brought into the betting and quoted in "the market." The gullible public, unaware of what is being done, back all the horses in turn, so that those interested obtain a pretty good sum out of the "stiff ones," as they are called. When the public at length waken up to the fact that a commission has been executed for a particular horse, they rush pell-mell to follow the lead, and in consequence the animal is speedily quoted at a price that will admit of splendid hedging, and in working a grand coup it is generally deemed prudent to hedge.

Gentlemen who race from their love of sport, or for the honour of the turf, do not, as has been hinted, recognise such doings as it is the mission of Mr. Smooth to carry out. When they find, after a trial with some horse of their own or one borrowed from a friend, that they have no chance of winning the race for which the horse has been entered, they at once strike it out of that race--"scratch it" is the usual phrase employed--so that the public may not be induced to back it. On the other hand, there are owners who never scratch their horses unless they find their intention of backing them anticipated by the public. In such cases, finding they cannot back the animal at their own price, they teach indiscriminate backers a lesson by withdrawing it from the race. It has become a debatable point in the ethics of horse-racing whether the owner of a horse, having once entered it in a public race, should withdraw it from participation in that race from not being able to back it on his own terms, because of Tom, Dick, and Harry having been more active than he has been in dealing with the bookmakers, and so forestalling him in the market. There are certain horses in every race which the public will not be withheld from backing; they are estimated on a review of their previous form to have such a fine chance, that no sooner is their weight for any given handicap made known, than the public are quick to take all the long shots, leaving the owner--what is left.

It is most provoking, no doubt, for the owner of a likely horse to find himself compelled to put up with the skimmed milk of the market, persons utterly unknown to him having secured the cream. No wonder the owner, on receiving such provocation, works himself into a passion; no wonder the fiat of "scratch my horse" is at once issued. What though the act be productive of something like a sensation? A notification that "the favourite is scratched" brings curses loud and deep on the head of its owner. But probably he has become callous to public opinion--his argument is: "The horse is mine own to do with whatever I please; I bought him; I pay for his corn and hay; I find the fees of the jockeys by whom he is ridden; I pay all travelling expenses and entry moneys, and therefore I shall do in the matter as I think proper."

These are strong arguments undoubtedly, and well put, but they all point in the direction of gambling. And that being so, there arises another side to the story, which may be placed before the reader in the following words. In reality it is the general public who provide the money which the bookmakers lay to owners of horses; as some owners never bet, whilst others bet only to small sums, it is evident, therefore, that without the aid of the crowns, half-sovereigns, and pounds of the small bettors it would be impossible for the bookmakers to deal in those large sums which gentlemen occasionally back their horses to win. Were only the value of the stake to be run for at issue, there would be no occasion for striking a horse out of the race at the eleventh hour, because of its owner being unable to back it. It is the large amount which can be won in bets that renders men so mercenary.

Speaking in a theoretical sense, it is undoubtedly more honourable for a man to strike his horse out of a race at once than to leave it among the competitors and arrange that it shall not win, which can always be made certain. The winning of a race even with the best horse in the world cannot be made sure, but to lose a race can be accomplished beyond a doubt, and there are even gentlemen on the turf--the more's the pity--who have not scrupled to lend themselves to such a fraud. It will be no exaggeration to say that during the course of the year two or three hundred horses will run to lose in the races that take place, and if only an average sum of £100 be got out of each--in some cases the result will be a gain of thousands--it totals up to a large amount.

Much of what is designated by turf critics the "in and out" running of handicap horses is no doubt due to such practices. One may often read in the sporting journals that "the running of Mr. So-and-So's horse was really too bad to be true; and we believe the animal will speedily see a better day;" which is just a roundabout way of saying the horse was "pulled," or that in some other way it was arranged the horse should not win the race. Such phrases of the sporting press are simply a way of veiling the fact of a fraud having been committed. Happily there are both owners and trainers who are far above such practices, but that men are doing such deeds every day is certain.

VI.

Another phase of the chicanery of the turf may be now alluded to, arising from the mercenary spirit of certain greedy owners--it is the practice of an owner to take a big bet about one of his horses, and leave his "lot" in the hands of a bookmaker to "work" in the market as he pleases. The right of a man to wallop his own nigger has been asserted; in the same spirit there are men who, having accepted in a handicap or other race with four or five horses, claim to do with them as they please, and what this style of doing business leads to can be gathered from the preceding pages. The mode alluded to is a contemptible phase of turf action. In plain language, the owner so acting simply lends himself to a fraud, because the bookmaker, knowing that only the horse which he has laid against is intended to win, takes his measures accordingly, and manages so to bring the others before the public that they will all in turn be well backed by unthinking backers--the horse which is intended to win the race being kept, when possible, carefully in the background, stories about its condition being published which prevent its being noticed. The intended horse may of course be beaten, but the cunning of the transaction is in no way lessened by that fact. It remains that the owner, in conjunction with the bookmaker, tried to do "a bit of thieving," for which, in other circles, he would be written down a blackguard. On the turf, however, morals are not quite so severely measured.

Not a few men are unfortunately compelled to the exercise of such chicanery by the "force of circumstances." There are men now on the turf who, while they are nominally the owners of a stud of race-horses, are in reality slaves of bookmakers. They have at some meeting extended their arm too far, and have been unable in consequence to respond to the call of time. In other words, in expectation of some of the horses they had backed winning, they betted to a greater amount than they found themselves able to pay. In such an ignominious position they frequently become tools of the bookmakers, and run or do not run their horses as they are told by their master, who, although imperative enough in his demands, may be a pleasant fellow withal.

Bookmakers are fond of doing business with those they call "the swells." Although gentlemen may get into their books, and be due them considerable sums of money, there is always the chance of some day being paid, while they are able in the meantime to turn them and their misfortunes to good account. There are men now on the turf who, it is said, owe thousands of pounds to bookmakers, and even, it is said, to their jockeys.

To those to whom the turf and its surroundings are as a sealed book, such a statement may appear like an outrageous calumny; but it is true, nevertheless, there are dozens of "swells" at the present moment who are under the thumbs of the bookmakers. If the Honourable Tom Twinkleton has a horse good enough to win the Derby, or the Royal Hunt Cup, or some other important race, big Brassy, the bookmaker, has no hesitation in laying freely against the "hon. gent's" colt, because Twinkleton dare not run unless Brassy please; and unless it suits Brassy that it should run and try, Brassy won't please, because the honourable but impecunious gentleman being due the bookmaker a couple of thousands, he cannot do as he pleases in the matter of running his horses under pain of cashing up or being exposed. No wonder, therefore, that Antelope, the Honourable Tom's horse, is so well beaten in its trial the week before the race that it is scratched--much to the consternation of its backers, it being second favourite at 9 to 2. But big Brassy is not ungenerous, he puts the Honourable Tom on the winner, and the honourable gent nominally wins a couple of monkeys (£1,000), one of which is paid to him, the other being placed to his credit. Your shrewd bookmaker likes to play with his fish, an "honourable" must be tenderly handled, because he has many friends; and it is to the interest of a "metallician" to keep sweet with young "swells" even although they are bad payers.

The "mercenaries of the turf," of whom there are many hundreds, owners and bettors, do almost anything to obtain money; they will practise all the tricks which have been described, as well as others of a still more questionable sort, they will submit to any degradation in order to earn a few hundred pounds. In conjunction with a dishonourable trainer they will permit their horses to win or lose false trials, or pull, or poison, or otherwise stupefy their horses, so that in some future race they may get their animals apportioned a weight far below what they ought to carry. To cheat the handicapper is thought to be fair game, to bring off "certainties" is a matter of weight; horses, therefore, are run with the view of getting off weight, and at this branch of their business some owners and trainers exercise great patience, and will wait year after year in order to pull off a good thing.

There are so-called "gentlemen" on the turf who will bribe a telegraph clerk in order to obtain news of a trial that may have been sent over the wires, or suborn a stableman of a popular stable in order to know what is doing in it; they will even connive with a bookmaker's assistant in order to get an inkling of his employer's commissions. Indeed, there are gentlemen now on the turf who do not scruple, when opportunity offers, to take advantage of their friends and daily companions by laying odds against horses which they know will not win, or have no chance to win even if they run; and there are "gentlemen" who lend themselves to bookmakers to do their commissions, who will either back or lay a horse at their bidding. These toadies of the bookmakers, and they are more numerous than is supposed, never question the morality of what they do, but do as they are bid to do, and ask no questions. These mercenaries have no scruples against being "put in" by the bookmakers to lay as much as they can against the chances of a horse which will not be wanted, or to obtain the longest possible odds against a horse which it is known will ultimately "come" in the market, which long, id est, liberal odds, the bookmaker might not obtain if he himself were to ask for them.