BUSINESS OF HORSE-RACING:

OFFICERS OF THE TURF.

I.

Very few of the many thousands who annually assemble on the breezy downs of Epsom to gaze upon the fierce contest which takes place for the "Blue Ribbon" of the turf, or who witness the Cup races at Ascot, have even a rudimentary idea of the "business," the real "work," in fact, which is incidental to horse-racing. They have never been behind the scenes, and have had no opportunity of becoming acquainted with the economy of a racing stable, or the labour and anxiety which pertain to training race-horses; nor do they care anything about strains of racing blood, they know nothing whatever about the sires or dams of the animals which win or lose the races on which they gaze with such interest.

The spectacle of the Derby or the Royal Hunt Cup, although brilliant and exciting in the extreme, is but the work of a minute or two and is soon forgotten, and so far as many who witness them are concerned, the whole affair might be an accident. The ordinary spectator of a great race is much in the position of a child at a theatre during the Christmas holidays, for all that master or missy cares or knows, the wonderful fairy pantomime may have dropped ready made from the clouds; children are concerned only about the sight as they see it, they think not of the brain-work it has cost, or the toil which has been endured in its preparation, or the outlay of money necessitated by its production. The business of the turf—before such a spectacle as "the Derby" can be shown on Epsom Downs—may be likened to the labour undergone in the production of a dramatic piece. Those who train our race-horses and arrange our sport upon the turf, find their work to be of a very onerous nature, it is much divided and much of it unknown to the general public.

The business matters pertaining to horse-racing are, as a rule, arranged by persons licensed by the Jockey Club—judges, clerks of courses, jockeys, all require the authority of the Club before they can act. Horse-racing has so long figured in the eyes of the unlearned in turf matters as a "pastime," that the idea of there being any "business" to transact in connection with it has often drawn from persons, who know no better, an expression of surprise; but before any race meeting can be advertised, or any race be run, much work of a thorough kind has to be got through, the whole machinery of racing has, in fact, to be evoked.

In the event of the meeting being a new one, which, for the purpose of illustration, the writer assumes, the whole machinery requires to be organised. A site for the meeting has to be selected, and then a racecourse has to be constructed. Commodious stables, either at the place of meeting, or near it, must be provided, as well as offices for the various officials, likewise accommodation for the public, in the form of a grand stand having galleries from which the different races may be witnessed. For the officials, and jockeys, and reporters of the press, rooms must be provided, as well as those bars and dining-places for the sale of viands, which are a prominent feature of our racing paddocks. The administrative officers of the meeting have to be appointed, either before or after the course has been laid down; they are, as a rule, selected before the affair is planned. There is also required a body of gentlemen to act as stewards, who, when necessary, form a court to which disputes arising in the course of a meeting can be referred for immediate settlement. Before a meeting can begin, the course must be approved and have its racing time fixed by the Jockey Club.

The principal officials required for the conduct of a race meeting are a clerk of the course, a handicapper, a starter, and a judge.

The clerk of the course receives—it is his chief duty—the entries for the different races, and also takes charge of the correspondence and general clerical business which pertains to a race meeting. This functionary is usually the mainspring of the meeting, he may, however, be "the hired servant" of the proprietors of the racecourse; in reality his position is dependent on how meetings he is connected with may be constituted. In addition to a clerk of the course, there may also be a "clerk of the scales": that is, a person entrusted with the important duty of weighing out and weighing in the jockeys, before and after riding, and seeing that each rider carries the exact weight apportioned to him.

The handicapper is an important functionary. Clerks of the course often officiate in the capacity of handicappers, or adjusters of the weights; sometimes, too, the office of handicapper and judge are combined; indeed, at some race meetings, the whole three offices are occasionally conjoined in one person; in theatrical parlance, the clerk of the course very often "doubles" the office of judge and handicapper. During a race meeting lasting over three or four days, the handicapper finds plenty of work, as, in addition to having apportioned weights to all the horses engaged in the larger handicaps, nurseries, and sweepstakes, many days, in some cases months, before the date of the meeting, he has to adjust the weights for those races which are run from day to day, for which horses are not entered till the evening before the day on which they are to run.

A handicapper must be resourceful and ever on the alert, ready on every opportunity to display, in practical fashion, his abounding knowledge of the qualities and previous achievements of horses, so as to be able to place the various animals on an equality in an overnight handicap. Race meetings are largely dependent on "the go" and ability of the person engaged as handicapper, because owners and trainers are a rather jealous class, and quite able to detect at once, and resent, by withdrawal of their horses for the race, and their non-entry in future contests, any flagrant instance of favouritism. At some race meetings, perhaps, as many as fifty separate weights will have to be adjusted, from day to day, during the progress of sport, besides those assigned to horses in standing events before racing began.

No meeting is perfect without the assistance of the "starter," an official whose business it is to start the competing horses. The duty of the starter, more particularly when there is a large field of young horses (two-year-olds), is difficult to perform satisfactorily, especially when the short distance to be run (say five furlongs) is taken into account; it is of the utmost importance, therefore, that each horse shall start on equal terms. A starter must possess firmness and decision of character in no ordinary measure, as he may have at times as many as forty jockeys under command, several of the boys being mounted on very unruly animals, while others may be wilfully goading their horses into unruliness on purpose to delay the start, thereby so fatiguing the younger riders as to make them lose command of their horses, and thus lose their chance of winning.

Starters have necessarily much in their power; and instances are known of such officials having occasionally favoured a particular horse, by allowing it to obtain what is called, in racing parlance, a "flying start," or some other advantage. Disobedient jockeys may be complained against by the starter to the stewards, who will reprimand them for trivial offences, or perhaps suspend them from riding during the continuance of the meeting for grave faults; or remand consideration of the case to the higher tribunal of the Jockey Club, as may be deemed right.

The starter officiates at one end of the course, the judge at the other.

A judge on a racecourse is entrusted with very onerous duties, and, seeing the value of the interests with which he is entrusted, ought to be a man of rare integrity; and so far as can be known, racing judges to-day are men of honour in their calling. Not only the integrity of the judge, but his powers of observation are of the utmost importance, when it is considered that hundreds of thousands of pounds sometimes change hands on his fiat—a fiat, be it understood, from which, as a rule, there is no appeal. A race is sometimes so nearly what is known as a "dead heat," that persons express dissatisfaction with the decision of the judge and assert that the second horse undoubtedly earned the verdict of victor. So close upon some occasions is the contest, that the leading jockeys themselves are unable to say which animal has won till its number has been hoisted on the indication board. Where a numerous field of horses compete in a short race, half-a-dozen of the number may gallop so evenly that it is sometimes very difficult for the judge to say which of them has arrived first at the winning-post. A novice in the judge's box during an important race would be a misfortune, the verdict of that official being, in almost every instance, final, even in the case, upon occasion, of an obvious blunder; and, as is well known, blunders have more than once been made by racing judges; because of the winning horse having escaped his notice, the race has in consequence been awarded to a horse which ought to have been placed second.

In addition to the important officials whose duties have been briefly indicated, there are one or two others employed in various capacities, as money and check takers, door keepers, course clearers, etc. One official must be briefly alluded to, he is a self-appointed one, who is not in receipt of any salary, but gets his "chance"; that official is "All right," a man who attends in the weighing room, and who, when the contending jockeys have been weighed in after the race, and it is ascertained that no objection of any kind has been offered against the winning horse, comes into the paddock and shouts out the welcome words "All right," to signify that those who have been betting may proceed to settle accounts. This most useful functionary is paid at the end of each meeting by a voluntary subscription from bookmakers and others interested in the good news which he disseminates.

The racing officials mentioned hold their offices on good behaviour. No starter, judge, or other functionary can afford, by an exhibition of delinquency, to brave the wrath of the Jockey Club. To be "warned off" Newmarket Heath and all other places where the stewards of the Club have power, implies professional extinction. No functionary of the turf under the ban of the Jockey Club would find employment. What being "warned off" Newmarket Heath means to an owner of horses may be quoted: "When a person is warned off Newmarket Heath under these rules (the rules of racing), and so long as his exclusion continues, he shall not be qualified to subscribe for, or to enter or run any horse for any race either in his own name or in that of any other person, and any horse of which he is part owner shall be disqualified."

II.

Having recited the duties of the chief officials connected with the business department of horse-racing, it becomes necessary to proceed a stage further and explain the constitution of one or two of our principal race meetings, of which only those immediately interested in the sport know very much. The constitution of several of these events is, however, somewhat obscure, inasmuch as the details are not known to the public. At Newmarket it is the Jockey Club which profits or loses by the racing which takes place on the classic heath. At Royal Ascot the handicappers are only the servants of higher powers; at Goodwood the moneys derived from the annual meeting, whatever they may amount to, are placed to the credit of the noble Duke on whose estate the races are run. The revenue from the race meeting annually held in Goodwood Park is reputed to be large, and as in a comparative sense little addition is made to the stakes, the profits are probably considerable. About Epsom and its grand stand, information of an interesting kind has been frequently published. At Doncaster, the various meetings are in the hands of the corporation, the profits derived going to benefit the town. Gate-money meetings are promoted by joint-stock companies, and several of them have become profitable institutions. It has been computed that on some race days at Manchester, as many as eighty thousand persons have paid for admission to the ground in sums varying from sixpence to a guinea.

New sources of revenue are frequently devised. Tattersall rings, not known of old, yield a handsome sum, and are supposed to be used only by the crème de la crème of the sporting fraternity; charges are also made for admission to the saddling paddock; at every turn, indeed, there is something to pay, either legitimately, or by way of backsheesh. The various refreshment stations, in the shape of rooms and tents, and often multiplied "bars," likewise yield a considerable revenue.

Newmarket is the capital of the turf in England. It is known as "head-quarters," and is the nominal seat of the turf legislature, which is represented by the Jockey Club. There are thirty-one different racecourses at Newmarket, ranging from a little over a furlong, to the Beacon course of four miles, while, during the year, seven meetings take place at which about two hundred and fifty races are decided. Newmarket, as well as being head-quarters of the turf, so far as sport is concerned, is also a resort of many trainers: several stables of importance being located at that place. The Jockey Club being eminently conservative, none beyond the stewards and its principal servants know anything about its financial position; but it is supposed to be growing wealthy. The numerous racecourses at Newmarket form a puzzle to the uninitiated, and, conservative as the Jockey Club is known to be, the time is not far distant when it will require to remodel its racing ground; race grounds might be named, which, although less classic, are more convenient.

Before racing can be entered upon, the horses must, as a matter of course, be in a fitting state of preparation to run for them. Trainers to prepare those animals for their work, as also jockeys to ride them in their various contests, is a matter of necessity. Race-horses are very expensive to keep; but it is questionable if more than twenty-five per cent. of the animals in training ever earn for their owners much more than a clear £1,000 per annum. Horses which prove successful in the Two Thousand or One Thousand Guineas Stakes, the Oaks, the Derby, the St. Leger, and the more important handicaps, earn large amounts for those to whom they belong. These, however, are exceptional horses; generally speaking, they are the horses of their year. Owners of one or two animals who lay themselves out to win an occasional big handicap, occasionally bag a large sum of money, chiefly in bets, however.

Investing money in blood stock for racing purposes is much like purchasing a lottery ticket. It is the breeders, we suspect, who make most money out of "blood stock." There are, at least, a dozen famous breeding studs in England, kept up at great expense, and introducing to the turf, year by year, many highly bred horses, the greater number of which are sold by auction; two breeders of renown, out of their profits, were enabled to found races of value which are annually decided at Newmarket.

The "business" of racing includes the breaking-in and training of the horses, and on the skill with which this is accomplished, depends much of the success or non-success which attends the animals during their racing career. Some trainers are particularly fortunate with yearlings entrusted to their care, and are able to bring them to various race meetings trained to perfection. Others, again, less able in their profession, or less fortunate in the ability or stamina of the animals entrusted to their care, do not make so good a show with their horses, and are consequently not looked upon with the same favour by the racing community. It is seldom difficult, however, to win a race with a good horse (or even a bad one) properly prepared for the struggle. Many capable judges of horse-flesh think that horses are occasionally "overtrained," and that, in consequence, when the hour of contest arrives, they are compelled to succumb to some more robust rival. Some trainers have acquired fame in their business from their ability to train a horse to win the Derby; others devote their time and attention to the preparation of horses for long or short distance races, whilst a third class look chiefly to steeple-chasing, and delight to train horses to jump.

III.

It is no part of the writer's intention to describe the economy of a training stable; but the business of a trainer of race-horses is one which is fraught with anxiety; a sudden change of the atmosphere may ruin his prospects of winning an important race, or a horse ridden at exercise by a careless boy may be brought back to the stable so lame that it can hardly ever again be depended on to run. The modern trainer is usually a man of some education and intelligence, a contrast to his predecessor of sixty years since, who was simply a groom and little more; he knows the anatomy and constitution of the horses placed under his care, and is familiar with them in health and disease. He has also to administer his establishment with care and economy, and has to keep up the discipline of his place; he may be the master probably of thirty or forty lads, whom it is not easy to keep in order.

A trainer who may, in the course of the winter, find he has the favourite for the Derby, or some other great race, in his stable, passes an anxious time, more especially when those who own the animal are addicted to heavy betting, and "the horse has been backed to win a fortune" in bets. To keep a horse in health demands the unceasing attention of its trainer and his servants: to see that its food and drink are of the best quality, that its gallops are properly regulated, that it is carefully housed, and that no improper person obtains access to it, are duties that must be performed with unceasing watchfulness. Sometimes, though a trainer be ever so lynx-eyed and careful, he will be baffled, and will awake to the sad consciousness, some fine morning about the time fixed for a race, that the horse has been "got at" by some interested party, and rendered useless for the coming event.

Derby favourites have occasionally been "nobbled," no one being able at the time to say how. The blacksmith may have pricked it in shoeing, its water may have been poisoned, some deleterious substance may have been given to it in its daily food, it may have injured its leg in some trap set for it on the racing ground, or its stable attendant may have been bribed to injure it, or a dozen other plans of a like kind may have been devised to place the high-mettled steed hors de combat. Day and night the trainer requires to be on the watch: in day-time his eye must be on the training ground watching the boys, and many a sleepless night must he pass in feverish anxiety as to the fate of the favourite, for of such is the business of horse-racing.

Owners and trainers of race-horses occasionally have fortune in their grasp without knowing it; in other words, they may possess an animal capable of winning a Derby, and yet be ignorant of the fact. Horses upon which, at first, very little store may be set, frequently prove of great value, able to win important stakes, and afterwards bring large sums of money for use at the stud. To be in a position to inform his employer how best to "place" his horses, forms one of the chief merits of a trainer. It is useless to enter slow, plodding horse to take part in a short-distance race where speed is the chief quality required, nor on the other hand is it worth while to enter a horse suitable to a five-furlong course, in the Great Metropolitan or Cesarewitch Handicaps, which can only be won by horses of staying powers.

There are a few owners and trainers of race-horses who possess the happy knack of so placing them, that they win the majority of the races for which they are entered. The Swan, I remember, was a horse which was always so happily placed that it won a large number of races for its owner, Mr. John Martin; other race-horses of greater celebrity, such as Lilian, might be mentioned as having been equally useful during their career on the turf. A gentleman possessing a stud of perhaps half-a-dozen or eight animals will frequently have a larger winning account at the end of the year than an owner of perhaps three times the number, just because he knows better what to do with them, or how to "place" them, so that he may, by winning a few races, earn their keep and pay for the entries made on their behalf. To be able to do so—to "place" one's horses, so that each may be able to win a couple of races in the course of the season—implies a good knowledge of the business of racing. Men with big studs usually strive to win the larger stakes, but as these stakes are fewer in number and have more numerous competitors, so their chances of success are proportionately lessened; but when a Cesarewitch, Cambridgeshire, or Manchester Autumn Cup is won, the money gained even in stakes is worth adding to the owner's bank account.

As has been stated, no race-meeting takes place by accident; for the so-called "classic races," the entries—an important feature of racing business—have to be made while the animals are yearlings. In numerous contests, the horses appointed to compete must be named long before the time advertised for bringing off the meeting, so that both owners and trainers require to keep their eyes open and have their wits about them to be able to do the right work at the right time. In several important training stables, there is so much correspondence to be got through, and so much book-keeping to be done, so many accounts to check and settle, as to render it necessary that the trainer should keep a clerk or secretary, an office filled in some cases by a member of the trainer's own family, perhaps his wife, or a daughter. It would never answer to allow a stranger to become familiar with the secrets of the prison-house.

It will be gathered from the foregoing summary, brief as it may be thought, that horse-racing to those engaged in it is somewhat of a serious pastime. "It takes a bit out of a jockey" to ride two or three races per diem, whilst trainers as a meeting progresses have much to do; owners also, with "thousands" invested in entry moneys and bets, have anxious moments to endure. In short, without devoted, never-ceasing attention to the business incidental to the turf, horse-racing as a pastime for the people would speedily come to an end.

IV.

The foregoing observations on the "business" of horse-racing may be fitly supplemented by a few additional remarks about the officers of the turf—chiefly with regard to former doings by these gentlemen, whose positions to-day are less "picturesque" than they were half a century ago.

Various meetings are becoming nowadays hard to sustain, and there is, in some instances, it is generally believed, a good deal of begging on the part of the clerk of the course to get the requisite funds; in such cases that gentleman performs, or used to perform, a liberal share of the work. It may be mentioned here that when on a particular occasion a Queen's Plate, usually run for at the popular Scottish Musselburgh meeting, was disallowed by Parliament, at the instigation of a Radical member of the House of Commons, the clerk of the course, Mr. James Turner, along with some friends, conceived the idea of replacing the disallowed trophy by a "People's Plate" of the same value, £100; a subscription was suggested, and the requisite sum of money was obtained in the course of a day or two, mostly in pence.

In a work published forty years ago, which probably few readers of these pages have had an opportunity of perusing—"Turf Characters" is its title—the following summary is given of the higher duties of a clerk of the course:

"The clerk of the course has many obligations to fulfil, the due execution of which requires almost incessant attention throughout the whole period of the year, apart from the race-week itself. For the efficient performance of those obligations, he must bring into full exercise not only appropriate capabilities in his own part, but their judicious application with regard to others. He is an important connecting link; and upon himself depends, in a considerable degree, the success and popularity of the meetings with which he is immediately connected, as well as the maintenance of his own reputation. He should not only be well acquainted with the laws of racing, but with all the matters and propositions—with, in short, the prevailing state of the turf; and, although it may not be needful that he should be, as it were, a walking calendar with regard to past decisions generally, or to pedigrees in particular, he should arm himself with every needful information to strengthen his energies and aid his success. He should be accurately acquainted with the several studs of horses in training, what has been accomplished hitherto, and what is in anticipation. He should be known to the respectable owners as well as to the trainers themselves. To the former his deportment should be respectful, without subserviency; zealous without intrusion; ready to give every information as to added money on the one hand, and as to weights, distances, penalties, and forfeits, on the other. With the latter, he should be on comparatively familiar terms; as ready to communicate propositions as to listen to suggestions; commanding respect by a uniform civility, and assuring confidence by faithfulness and integrity.

"He should attend all the race-meetings throughout the country, not only for the purpose of obtaining information as to the proposals emanating from other great and competing race-meetings, but for securing additional subscriptions or nominations contained in his own red book, which, at the suitable opportunity, should be submitted to the noblemen and gentlemen then present, although, perhaps, he may have previously communicated with them by circulars through the post.

"By adopting this course, he places himself in the focus of turf intelligence, from which radiates the information which he should turn to the best account. While he thus becomes well known to all parties, and esteemed for the propriety of his deportment on all occasions, perhaps lauded for his praiseworthy zeal and assiduity, he becomes also the best means of communication with all the owners of horses, and is thus fully enabled to carry out the views of the race-meeting of his own locality, city, or burgh, the most judicious appropriation of the grants of the municipal body, or the subscriptions of the inhabitants, and ensure the success and popularity which in racing matters are the life-blood of the meeting."

V.

Many curious anecdotes have, from time to time, been circulated about the doings of various officers of the turf, not a few of them, perhaps, of a rather imaginative kind. In one or two instances where the clerk of the course acted also as handicapper, as well as being lessee of the grand stand, it is said that it was his custom to "retain" all the big stakes; in plain language, it has been more than once implied that some handicappers were allowed, by certain owners, to keep the stake-money, on condition of the horses entered by them being favoured in the apportioning of the weights. "If my horse wins," would say an owner, "the bets I make will pay me; therefore I shall not trouble myself about the stakes." Such stories must be taken with the usual grain of salt. A story, however, was recently circulated by a well-known turf writer about a small owner, who, having won an important handicap, called on the clerk of the course to lift the stakes; he was received with a most incredulous stare, but after a brief pause, the official wrote out and signed the necessary cheque. "There," said he, "but learn your business better; don't let this occur again."

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.