Chapter IV: Front Matter (4)

This official requires to "look sharp," and he must keep his eyes wide open while engaged in the performance of his duties, otherwise he may become the victim of a tricky jockey or owner, who has an object to gain by perpetrating a fraud. It has more than once occurred that the scales have been tampered with by a piece of lead being fastened to them in a hidden place, in some cases before the boys were weighed, in some cases after that process had been performed, the object being to have the rider of the winning horse disqualified for carrying more or less than the stipulated weight.

The success of race-meetings is greatly dependent on the knowledge and talent of the handicapper, owners and trainers being, as has been said, jealous and exacting. Of late years, increased sums of money have been added by the managers or lessees of certain race-meetings to the races announced, but in several instances without having the desired effect of swelling the acceptances or the field. No handicapper is thought to be successful unless the owners of more than half of the horses entered are pleased to cry content with the weights allotted to them. It occasionally happens, however, that although a handicap may be remarkably well constructed, and every horse be allotted a fair weight, the acceptances for various reasons may be small--so small on occasion, as to render the race to all intents and purposes a failure. He would, indeed, be a clever handicapper if he could please all who enter their horses in any given race; consequently, when a handicap is published there is very often a loud chorus of disappointment. One owner compares the heavy weight assigned to his horse with the light weight bestowed on some other animal which has beaten it. Owners, dissatisfied with the work of this official, sometimes strike their horses out of the race, without waiting till the date when the acceptances have to be declared, which is altogether a mistaken policy. It very often happens that the views of the handicapper are triumphantly endorsed by the result of the race, when two or three of the horses carrying the heaviest imposts of the handicap will make a bolder bid for victory than any of the other animals, the honours of the race falling, perhaps, to the horse which carries the top weight. Handicappers, "it is said," are occasionally "got at," with the result that some well-planned _coup_ is brought off, in which a horse carrying a light impost, by favour of the official in question, is declared the winner.

Persons who have long been behind the scenes of the racing arena could doubtless relate many stories of the kind indicated, and as handicappers, like other men, are bung-full of human nature, it is not to be wondered at if, being sorely tempted, they sometimes fall. But at the present time the official in question is more often a victim of some other man's crime than a criminal himself. Handicappers are born to be deceived. They form a target for owners to shoot their arrows at, if such a simile is applicable; horses are run in all fashions in order to deceive them, and frequently with success.

It has hitherto been a fashion to hold up Admiral Rous to the admiration of the turf world as the greatest artist in the "putting together" of horses that has ever been known, but statements to that effect must be taken only for what they are worth. Such a man as "the Admiral" was not, of course, open to accept any vulgar bribe; no person would have had the hardihood to offer him a "monkey," or even a pipe of fine old port, to be allowed to place his own weight on his own horse. But the Admiral was quite as easily deceived as many other handicappers, with the result of being occasionally remorselessly "sold" in the same way by a well-devised "plant," of which some carefully-kept horse which had been ridden out of its distance at petty meetings was the hero. It is impossible, with the fierce light which now beats on his work, for a handicapper, unless he has been deceived himself, to go far wrong; he does his duty, as may be said, in a glass house, under the eye of all interested, and dare not therefore, if he would, commit any serious _faux pas_, however great might be the temptation held out to him.

The work of the starter is occasionally most onerous and difficult to perform satisfactorily. Firmness and decision of character ought to be the chief characteristic of this officer of the turf. At times as many as thirty, and even on occasion forty horses will assemble to compete in some popular handicap, each jockey being eager to secure an advantage over his neighbour at the start. Many of the lads are mounted on animals difficult to govern, whilst others of the jockeys will, of set purpose, do their best to goad their horses into a state of unrest, for the sake of delaying the start, until some tiny boy mounted on a favourite is beaten with cold and fatigue before the race is even begun to be run. Such tactics have been often resorted to; they seem to form a feature of "jockeyship." As all who frequent race-meetings know, the starter has a great deal in his power.

That the gentlemen who officiate as starters at the present time are honest in their vocation, men whom no bribe would tempt to go wrong, however large it might be, may be taken for granted. But it was not always so; there was a time in the history of the turf, when the duties of starter were entrusted to any Tom, Dick, or Harry, with the result that they were carelessly, if not dishonestly performed. Nothing is more annoying to an owner of a valuable horse than to see the animal distressed by a number of false starts--especially when it has been heavily backed and is thought to possess a great chance of securing a victory. On such occasions the power of a horse is frittered before racing begins, and its winning chance lessened thereby. At one period of turf history, according to an authority already mentioned, the duties of starter were so inefficiently performed that Lord George Bentinck, who reformed many of the abuses incidental to the sport of kings, used himself voluntarily to undertake the task of starting the horses whenever a great event was about to be decided. From his high position in the turf world, his experience acquired as an active steward of the Jockey Club, and the fact of his being the proprietor of many valuable horses, as well as of an immense breeding stud, Lord George was well able to keep the most refractory jockeys in order, and so ensure a fair start.

VI.

"It was a glorious sight," says a racing enthusiast, writing under the signature of "Martingale," "to see Lord George Bentinck, flag in hand, walking at the head of a field of horses, and conducting them to the starting-point in as compact a body as possible, every eye pointed in one direction, every elevated position occupied from which a view could be obtained, the course perfectly clear, the sun lighting up the brilliant colours of the jockeys' dresses, gleaming with more hues than the rainbow, the reins handled, the spirit manifested by the equine competitors, the result doubtful, victory or defeat hanging in the balance. The word 'go' was given by the noble starter, and the flag dropped, and away rushed the mighty host with terrific speed, presenting a spectacle so imposing and so exciting as never to be obliterated from the minds of those who had the high gratification of beholding it."

There are votaries of the turf who prefer to see the start rather than the finish of a race; but at some meetings, as at Doncaster, both the beginning and the conclusion of the more exciting contests can be seen.

A race terminates at the winning-post, where sits the judge to determine which of the runners is to be declared victor, and which two horses are to have the honour of being placed.

On rare occasions, in two or three instances only, has it happened of late that a judge has been required to revise his judgment and alter his verdict; as a rule his decree is final, although, in the opinion of thousands who have witnessed the contest, it may be an erroneous verdict. In the race for the Derby Stakes of 1869, when Pero Gomez and Pretender ran so close together, it was generally considered, till the numbers went up, that Pero Gomez had beaten Pretender, and many who saw the race insist it was so, and that the judge on that occasion committed an error in awarding the Blue Ribbon to the northern-trained horse.

Long ago, say sixty years since, complaints against judges were much oftener indulged in than they are at present. A writer on turf matters, in speaking of the judging of the period (1829), says:

"I have frequently known much dissatisfaction to arise from the manner in which the judge has placed the horses; for instance, at the last Epsom Races (1829), the first race, the first day, was very closely contested by Conrad and Fleur de lis. I was nearly opposite the winning-post, and felt no hesitation in supposing Conrad the winner; I heard great numbers express their opinion to the same effect. The judge decided otherwise. At the Liverpool Meeting in July, 1829, the Gold Cup was decided in favour of Velocipede, though many persons insisted that Dr. Faustus was the winner. Templeman, who rode Dr. Faustus, unhesitatingly declared his unqualified conviction that he won the race. Now, since no person can tell so exactly which wins as the judge, from the situation in which he is placed, I am very willing to suppose that, in both cases, the decision was correct. Many other instances might be adduced, but as they merely form a catalogue of unmeaning repetition, I shall not state them. However, a judge, in order to be master of his business, or qualified for the important office which he undertakes, should be generally acquainted with the jockeys, the colours, and also the horses; he should observe the running of the horses, particularly when they come within distance, or he will find it a difficult matter, should the race be finely contested, to give a correct decision--a decision satisfactory to his own mind. A judge should abstain from betting, if he wish to avoid suspicion."

The judge occupies, as he ought to do, the best position for witnessing the finish of a race, and of all the hundreds standing near him not one can view the finale from the same standpoint; they are all more or less "angled," and see with a squint, hence the varied opinions which prevail after a close finish. Another point in judging, not generally known, is, that every race terminates _at_ the winning-post, and that it is not the horse which is first past the post which gains the victory, but the animal which is first _at_ it. This great fact in racing arrangements has led thousands into error, and into asserting that a horse had won when in reality it had not. The judge of an important race, therefore, must be a man of nerve, with a clear head and a cool brain, ready to take in the whole position in half a second--a consummation which is not easy when there is a very close finish with a field of perhaps, say, thirty horses, the first three or four of which, as they rush past the winning-chair, are as nearly as possible locked together. Other races in which the competitors are much fewer, are quite as difficult to judge; races, for instance, in which the first three horses are running widely apart from each other, on a very broad racecourse. In such instances no one but the recognised authority can tell which is first, the guesses of lookers-on during the decision of such events being often wide of the mark.

Curious instances have frequently been related of hats being thrown up by enthusiastic bettors as a token of rejoicing before the winning number has been officially signalled, and great has been the chagrin of these enthusiasts when they saw the number of their horse placed second or third. Upon one occasion a gentleman who had backed a high-mettled steed belonging to a friend of his to win him a sum of about £15,000, watched the race with intense anxiety, and saw, as he thought, his friend's horse just beaten on the post. Imagine his joy, therefore, when the numbers went up, when he found that instead of being just beaten he had just won. Many an opposite tale could be told of men who, before the winning number was hoisted, felt certain they had won a fortune, when alas! their horse was only awarded the second or third place. Still, the judge maintains his high position; he may make an occasional blunder in his award, but his honesty of purpose remains unquestioned, although on some of his judgments are dependent large amounts of money.

On the determination of a race there may be hundreds of thousands of pounds at stake, and the winning some day of thirty, forty, or fifty thousand may only be accomplished by a couple of inches--a nose, in the slang of the turf; indeed, a horse is sometimes said, when the contest is a notably close one, to win by the skin of its teeth. Under such circumstances, it is consoling to those interested to know that "the man in the box" is above suspicion.

THE CLASSIC RACES.