Horse Racing—Early mention—Thirteenth Century—Racing for bells—Racing in Hyde Park—Newmarket—Oliver Cromwell and Running horses—Charles II.—James II.—Anne—Her fondness for racing—Sporting in her reign—Epsom—Tregonwell Frampton—The three Georges—A duel—Turf anecdotes of the Eighteenth Century.

But this style of betting is harmless compared to that curse of the England of our time, betting upon horse racing, which can be compared to nothing but a social cancer, eating into the very vitals of the nation; and it is especially a pity that so noble an animal as the horse should be made the unconscious medium of such a degrading passion as gambling—still, the fact exists, and horse racing from its commencement must be treated in a history of gambling in England.

Horses must have been introduced into this country at a very early age, for, when CÆsar invaded Britain, he was opposed by vast numbers of horsemen, and many centuries had not elapsed before there was competition, as to speed, among the animals. William of Malmesbury tells us that running horses were sent from France by Stugh, the founder of the house of Capet, as a present to King Athelstan. We never hear of any races being run, and Fitzstephen, who was secretary to Sir Thomas À Becket, and lived in the reign of Henry II., scarcely describes what we should term a horse race. Speaking of a certain Smoothfield, outside London (Smithfield), he says:

“There, every Friday, unless it be one of the more solemn festivals, is a noted show of well bred horses for sale. The earls, barons and knights, who are, at the time resident in the City, as well as most of the Citizens, flock thither, either to look on, or buy. It is pleasant to see the nags, with their sleek and shining coats, smoothly ambling along, raising and setting down, alternatively, as it were, their feet on either side: in one part are horses better adapted to esquires; these, whose pace is rougher, but yet expeditious, lift up and set down, as it were, the two opposite fore and hind feet together: in another, the young blood colts not yet accustomed to the bridle. In a third, are the horses for burden, strong and stout limbed; and, in a fourth, the more valuable chargers, of an elegant shape and noble height, with nimbly moving ears, erect necks, and plump haunches. In the movement of these, the purchasers observe, first, their easy pace, and, then, their gallop, which is when their fore feet are raised from the ground, and set down together, and the hind ones in like manner alternately. When a race is to be run by such horses as these, and, perhaps, by others, which, in like manner, according to their breed, are strong for carriage and vigorous for the course, the people raise a shout, and order the common horses to be withdrawn to another part of the field. The jockeys, who are boys expert in the management of horses, which they regulate by means of curb bridles, sometimes by threes, and sometimes by twos, according as the match is made, prepare themselves for the Contest. Their chief aim is to prevent a competitor getting before them. The horses, too, after their manner, are eager for the race; their limbs tremble, and, impatient of delay, they cannot stand still; upon the signal being given, they stretch out their limbs, hurry over the course, and are borne along with unremitting speed. The riders, inspired with the love of praise, and the hope of victory, clap spurs to their flying horses, lashing them with their whips, and inciting them with their shouts.”

In a metrical romance of the thirteenth century, “Syr Beuys of Hampton,” printed by W. Copland in 1550, there is mention of a race

“In somer in whitsontyde
whan knights most on horsbacke ride
a cours let they make on a daye
Stedes and palfraye for to assaye
whiche horse that best may ren
thre myles the cours was then
who that might ryd should
have £ LI. of redy golde.”

Edward III. bought some running horses at £13, 6s. 8d. each; and in the ninth year of his reign the King of Navarre made him a present of two running horses. Still, very little is heard of race horses until the time of Elizabeth and James I. Bishop Hall, of Exeter and Norwich, in one of his Satires, writes:

“Dost thou prize

Thy brute beasts’ worth by their dam’s qualities?
Say’st thou, this colt shall prove a swift-paced steed,
Only because a jennet did him breed?
Or say’st thou, this same horse shall win the prize,
Because his dam was swiftest Trunchifice,[48]
Or Runcevall his syre; himself a galloway?
While, like a tireling jade, he lags half way.”

In 1599, private matches by gentlemen, who were their own riders, were very common, and, in the reign of James I., public races were established at various places, where the discipline and mode of preparing the horses for running, etc., were much the same as they are now. The most celebrated races of that time were called the “Bell Courses,” the prize of the winner being a bell—hence the saying of “to bear the bell”; and a tradition of it still remains in the couplet with which children’s races are started.

“Bell horses! Bell horses! what time of day?
One o’clock, two o’clock, three, and away!”

Perhaps the oldest record that we have of these silver bells is those of Paisley, which date from 1620, or 1608, as on that date there is an entry in the town books showing the purchase of a silver bell. The silver bells are now run for, but there are 100 guineas attached to them. Silver bells were also run for in this reign, at Gatherly, in Yorkshire, Croydon, Chester, and Theobalds, the King’s hunting lodge. Mr J. C. Whyte, in his History of the British Turf, says that in Harl. MS. 2150, fol. 235, is an account of a ceremony performed with the race for a bell at Chester, in the presence of the Mayor, at the Cross, in the Rodhi, or Roody, an open place near the City. I have examined the MS. but cannot find the passage, so extract from his work the following:

“A silver bell, valued at about three shillings and sixpence, placed on the point of a lance, shall be given to him, who shall run the best and furthest on horseback before them on Shrove Tuesday. These bells went by the name of St George’s bells, and the younger Randel Holme tells us that, in the last year of this reign (1624) John Brereton, innkeeper, Mayor of Chester, first caused the horses entered for this race, then called St George’s Race, to start from the point beyond the new Tower, and appointed them to run five times round the Roody; and, he continues, he, who won the last course, or trayne, received the bell, of a good value, £8 or £10, and to have it for ever, which moneyes were collected of the citizens for that purpose. By the use of the term, for ever, it would appear that the bell had been used, formerly, as a mark of temporary distinction only, by the successful horsemen, and, afterwards, returned to the Corporation.”

On fol. 354 of this MS. we find “What y^e companys gave toward S. George’s Rase for the contynuance of a bell or cup.” To this there is no date, but it amounted to £36, 8s. 4d. The 3s. 6d. silver bell was substituted for a wooden ball, which used to be raced for, as a prize, in the 31st year of King Henry VIII.

We see how simple, and for what small prizes they ran in the early days of horse racing in England—it is sad to record that betting, almost immediately, attended the popularity of the sport. This we see in Shirley’s play of Hide Parke, acted at Drury Lane in 1637.

“Confused noyse of betting within, after that a shoute.

Mistress Caroll. They are started.

Enter Bonvile, Rider, Bonavent, Tryer, Fairefield.

Rider. Twenty pounds to fifteene.
Lord Bonvile. ‘Tis done we’e.
Fairefield. Forty pounds to thirty.
Lord Bonvile. Done, done. Ile take all oddes.
Tryer. My Lord, I hold as much.
Lord Bonvile. Not so.
Tryer. Forty pounds to twenty.
Lord Bonvile. Done, done.
Mistress Bonavent. You ha lost all, my Lord, and it were a Million.
Lord Bonvile. In your imagination, who can helpe it?
Mistress Bonavent. Venture hath the start and keepes it.
Lord Bonvile. Gentlemen, you have a fine time to triumph,
–—————‘Tis not your oddes that makes you win.
–——————Within. Venture! Venture!

[Exeunt Men.

Julietta. Shall we venture nothing o’ th’ horses?
What oddes against my Lord?

Mistress Caroll. Silke stockings.

Julietta. To a paire of perfum’d gloves I take it.

Mistress Caroll. Done!

Mistress Bonavent. And I as much.

Julietta. Done with you both.

Mistress Caroll. Ile have ‘em Spanish sent.

Julietta. The Stockings shal be Scarlet: if you choose
Your sent, Ile choose my colour.

Mistress Caroll. ‘Tis done; if Venture
Knew but my lay, it would halfe breake his necke now,
And crying a Jockey hay.

[A shoute within.

Julietta. Is the wind in that coast? harke the noyse.
Is Jockey now?

Mistress Caroll. ‘Tis but a paire of gloves.

[Enter my Lord.

Julietta. Still it holds.
How ha you sped, my Lord?

Lord Bonvile. Won! won! I knew by instinct,
The mare would put some tricke upon him.

Mistress Bonavent. Then we ha lost; but, good my Lord, the circumstance.

Lord Bonvile. Great John at all adventure, and grave Jockey
Mounted their severall Mares, I sha’ not tell
The story out for laughing, ha! ha! ha!
But this in briefe, Jockey was left behind,
The pitty and the scorne of all the oddes,
Plaid ‘bout my eares like Cannon, but lesse dangerous.
I tooke all, still; the acclamation was
For Venture, whose disdainefull Mare threw durt
In my old Jockey’s face, all hopes forsaking us;
Two hundred pieces desperate, and two thousand
Oathes sent after them; upon the suddaine,
When we expected no such tricke, we saw
My rider, that was domineering ripe,
Vault ore his Mare into a tender slough.
Where he was much beholding to one shoulder,
For saving of his necke, his beast recovered,
And he, by this time, somewhat mortified,
Besides mortified, hath left the triumph
To his Olympick Adversary, who shall
Ride hither in full pompe on his Bucephalus,
With his victorious bagpipe.”

Newmarket, hitherto, a royal hunting place, was made into a race course in 1640, and we get a peep of what it was like in an old ballad (said to be of about this time) called “Newmarket,” published by D’Urfey, in his Pills to purge Melancholy.

“Let cullies that lose at a race,
Go venture at hazard to win,
Or he, that is bubbl’d at dice,
Recover at cocking again.
Let jades that are foundered, be brought;
Let jockeys play crimp to make sport;
Another makes racing a trade,
And dreams of his projects to come,
And many a crimp match has made
By bubbing[49] another man’s groom.”

Oliver Cromwell kept “running horses,” but there is no mention of his having used them in racing: It is more probable that he bred from them. With the Restoration, horse racing was revived, and was much encouraged by Charles II. who appointed races for his own amusement at Datchet Mead, when he resided at Windsor. Newmarket, however, became the principal locality for this sport, and the round course was made in 1666. The King attended the races in person, established a house for his own accommodation, and kept and entered horses in his own name. Instead of bells, he gave a silver bowl or cup, value 100 guineas, on which prize the exploits and pedigree of the successful horse were generally engraved.

The times of James II. were too troubled for him to amuse himself with horse racing, and William III. had no leisure for the sport, although he added to the plates, and founded an academy for riding, but, under Anne, the turf was again under royal patronage.

The Queen was fond of racing, and gave £100 gold cups to be raced for; nay, more, she not only kept race horses, but ran them in her own name. Her six year old grey gelding Pepper, ran for her gold cup, at York (over Clifton and Rawcliffe Ing’s), on July 28, 1712. Over the same course, and for the same stake, on Aug. 3, 1714, ran her grey horse Mustard, which in 1714 was entered to run in Whitsun Week, at Guildford, in Surrey, for the £50 plate; and, sad to tell, her brown horse Star, ran at York, for a plate value £14, and won it, on July 30, 1714, the very day on which the Queen was struck with apoplexy, expiring the next day.

She paid a visit to Newmarket, in April 1705, going to Cambridge once or twice during her stay. Narcissus Luttrell tells us: “Aprill 26, 1705. The queen has ordered her house at Newmarket to be rebuilt, and gave a thousand pounds towards paving the town; and bought a running horse of Mr Holloway, which cost a 1000 guineas, and gave it to the Prince.” Prince George of Denmark shared his royal consort’s love of horse racing, and gave, at least, two gold plates to be raced for, worth 100 guineas each. This seems to have been a very horsey year for the Queen, for Luttrell tells us that “the queen has appointed horse races to be at Datchet, after her return from Winchester to Windsor.”

A few racing mems of this time will illustrate to what an extent the passion for the turf was carried. 1702: “They write from Newmarket, That the Lord Godolphin’s and Mr Harvy’s Horses ran for £3000. His Lordship won: As, also, the Earl of Argile, and the Duke of Devonshire’s; the latter’s Horse won, by which Mr Pheasant got a considerable sum.” 1703: “The great horse race at Newmarket, run for 1000 guineas between the Lord Treasurer and the Duke of Argyle, was won by the latter.” Perhaps the earliest Sporting Paper is “News from Newmarket, or, An Account of the Horses Match’d to Run there in March, April, and May, 1704. The Weight, Miles, Wagers and Forfeits. Printed for John Nutt near Stationer’s Hall, price 2d.” 1707: “Last Monday was a horse race at Newmarket, between Lord Granby’s Grantham, and Mr Young’s Blundel, for £3000—the latter won.” On April 10, 1708, at Newmarket, the Duke of Bedford’s bay horse (9 stone) had a match with Mr Minchall’s bay colt (8-1/2 stone) for 1000 guineas, but there is no record of which won. These were the highest stakes mentioned during the reign: they were, generally, for 200 or 300 guineas.

The first mention I can find of Epsom Races, is in this reign, and is in the London Gazette, April and May 26/3, 1703, when three small plates were to be run for, of £30, £10 and £5 value. On May 25, 1704, there was only one to be competed for, and that for £20. They had very early “Epsom Spring Meetings”; for, in the Daily Courant, Feb. 15, 1709, it says: “On Epsom Downes, in Surrey, on the first Monday after the Frost, a plate of £20 will be run for,” &c. Races on these downs have been held continuously since 1730.

The most famous sporting man of his time was Tregonwell Frampton, Esq. of Moreton, Dorsetshire, “The Father of the Turf,” who was keeper of her Majesty’s running horses at Newmarket—a post which he had filled in the time of William III., and which he continued to hold under Georges I. and II. He is described as being “the oldest, and as they say, the cunningest jockey in England: one day he lost 1000 guineas, the next he won 2000, and so, alternately. He made as light of throwing away £500 or £1000, at a time, as other men do of their pocket money, and was perfectly calm, cheerful and unconcerned when he lost a thousand pounds, as when he won it.”

George I. is said to have been at Newmarket in 1716, 1717, and 1718, but neither he nor his successor cared for horse racing, although they still kept “running horses.” George III. used to attend Ascot Races, and his uncle the “butcher,” Duke of Cumberland, was a great patron of the turf, and was the breeder of the celebrated horse Eclipse. As Walpole says of him, 29th Dec. 1763: “The beginning of October, one is certain that everybody will be at Newmarket, and the Duke of Cumberland will lose, and Shafto[50] win, two or three thousand pounds.” It was about this time that the betting ring started, and roguery was not uncommon, as we may see by the following:

At the Kingston Lent Assizes, 1767, a case was tried between an unnamed gentleman, as plaintiff, and Mr Wm. Courtney, defendant; the action was upon a wager of 100 guineas, which was reduced to writing, that plaintiff procured three horses that should go ninety miles in three hours, which defendant laid he did not. The plaintiff proved his case very well; but, it appearing to the court and jury that it was an unfair bet, the jury gave a verdict for the defendant. It seems that the way in which the plaintiff performed his undertaking, was by starting all the three horses together, so that they had but thirty miles apiece to run in the three hours, which, of course, was easily done.

In chronological order comes a story of a duel in which the notorious black leg, Dick England, was concerned.

“Mr Richard England was put to the Bar, at the Old Bailey (1796) charged with the ‘wilful murder’ of Mr Rowlls, brewer, of Kingston, in a duel at Crauford Bridge, June 18, 1784.

“Lord Derby, the first witness, gave evidence that he was present at Ascot races. When in the stand upon the race course, he heard Mr England cautioning the gentlemen present not to bet with the deceased, as he neither paid what he lost, nor what he borrowed. On which Mr Rowlls went up to him, called him rascal, or scoundrel, and offered to strike him; when Mr England bid him stand off, or he would be obliged to knock him down; saying, at the same time—‘We have interrupted the company sufficiently here, and, if you have anything further to say to me, you know where I am to be found.’ A further altercation ensued; but his Lordship, being at the other end of the stand, did not distinctly hear it, and, then, the parties retired.

“Lord Dartrey, afterwards Lord Cremorne, and his lady, with a gentleman, were at the inn at the time when the duel was fought. They went into the garden, and endeavoured to prevent the duel; Mr Rowlls desired his Lordship and others not to interfere; and, on a second attempt of his Lordship to make peace, Mr Rowlls said, if they did not retire, he must, though reluctantly, call them impertinent. Mr England, at the same time, stepped forward, and took off his hat; he said—‘Gentlemen, I have been cruelly treated; I have been injured in my honour and character; let reparation be made, and I am ready to have done this moment.’ Lady Dartrey retired. His Lordship stood in the bower of the garden until he saw Mr Rowlls fall. One, or two, witnesses were called, who proved nothing material. A paper, containing the prisoner’s defence, being read, the Earl of Derby, the Marquis of Hertford, Mr Whitbread, jun., Col. Bishopp, and other gentlemen, were called to his character. They all spoke of him as a man of decent, gentlemanly deportment, who, instead of seeking quarrels, was studious to avoid them. He had been friendly to Englishmen while abroad, and had rendered some service to the military at the siege of Newport.

“Mr Justice Rooke summed up the evidence; after which, the jury retired for about three-quarters of an hour, when they returned a verdict of Manslaughter.

“The prisoner, having fled from the laws of his country for twelve years, the Court was disposed to show no lenity. He was, therefore, sentenced to pay a fine of one shilling, and be imprisoned in Newgate for twelve months.”

We have a terrible instance in a man, otherwise amiable in all relations of life, of the infatuation for the Turf. Lord Foley, who died July 2, 1793, entered upon the Turf with an estate of £18,000 a year, and £100,000 ready money. He left it with a ruined constitution, an incumbered estate, and not a shilling of ready money!

Here are three paragraphs from the Times about this date relative to racing:

17th April 1794. “Poor Newmarket is completely done up! The Spring meeting boasts so few bets in the calendar of gambling, that the chance will not pay post chaise hire to the black legs. Thus falls the destructive sport of the Turf—and, as that is the case, it would do honour to his Majesty to change the Kings Plates into rewards for the improvement of Agriculture.” This suggestion has been carried out in the present reign.

25th May 1795. “The Duke of Queensberry was a principal loser at Epsom Races. The noble Duke had his vis-a-vis, and six horses, driving about the course, with two very pretty emigrÉes in it. The Duke was in his cabriolet. The Duke of Bedford, Lords Egremont and Derby were, also, on the course. Several carriages were broken to pieces; and one Lady had her arm broken.

“There was much private business done in the swindling way at the last Epsom Races. One black legged fellow cleared near a thousand pounds by the old trick of an E.O. Table. Another had a faro table, and was on the eve of doing business, when he was detected with a palmed card: almost the whole of what may be justly styled the ‘vagabond gamblers’ of London were present.

“Mr Bowes, half brother of the Earl of Strathmore, was robbed of a gold watch, and a purse containing 30 guineas, at Epsom races, on Thursday last. Many other persons shared a similar fate, both on the same evening, and Friday. Upwards of 30 carriages were robbed, coming from the races.”

8th Sep. 1797. “Never, since racing was patronised by the Merry Monarch, has the Turf been so much on the decline as at this period. His Grace of Bedford is the only person who retains a considerable stud. Lord Grosvenor has disposed of nearly the whole of his, with the reserve of two, or three, capital horses, and some few brood mares.”