CHAPTER XII
Gluttonous Wager – Walk to Constantinople and back – Sir John Lade and Lord Cholmondeley – Other Wagers – Betting on Napoleon – Bet on a Coat – Lord Brougham – Brunel and Stephenson – Captain Barclay – Story by Mr Ross – The Earl of March’s Coach – Selby’s drive to Brighton – White’s betting book.
A different kind of wager is recorded in The World, of 4th May 1787. “At the Wheel, at Hackington Fen, on Wednesday sen’night, a fen farmer laid a wager he could eat two dozen of penny mutton pies, and drink a gallon of ale in half an hour, which he performed with ease, in half the time, and said he had but a scanty supper and wished for something more; in less than half an hour after, he ate a threepenny loaf and a pound of cheese, and still swore he was hungry. The landlord, unwilling to starve his delicate guest, set before him a leg of pork, which his voracious appetite gormandized with great composure. He thanked the landlord for his civility, and said, ‘I hate to go to bed with an empty stomach.’”
In the Annual Register we read, September 1788. “A young Irish gentleman, for a very considerable wager, set out on Monday the 22nd instant, to walk to Constantinople and back again in one year. It is said that the young gentleman has £20,000 depending on the performance of this exploit. 1st June 1789, Mr Whaley arrived about this time in Dublin from his journey to the Holy Land, considerably within the limited time of twelve months. The above wager, however whimsical, is not without a precedent. Some years ago, a baronet of some fortune, in the north, laid a considerable wager that he would go to Lapland, bring home two females of that country and two reindeer in a given time. He performed his journey, and effected his purpose in every respect. The Lapland women lived with him for about a year, but, having a wish to go back to their own country, the baronet very generously furnished them with means and money.”
In Trinity Term, 1790, was argued in the Court of King’s Bench, whether all wagers, by the 14th George III., were not void, as gaming contracts, and being contrary to the policy of the law? Lord Kenyon and Justices Ashurst and Grose were of opinion, that the law had not declared all wagers illegal, however desirable such a law might be. Wagers that led to a breach of the peace, to immorality, the injury of a third person, or that had a libellous tendency, were void; but some wagers, between indifferent people, were, certainly legal, both by the common law, and by statute. Mr Justice Buller differed from the rest of the Court.
Times, October 2, 1795. “A curious circumstance occurred here (Brighton) yesterday. Sir John Lade, for a trifling wager, undertook to carry Lord Cholmondeley, on his back, from opposite the Pavilion, twice round the Steine. Several ladies attended to be spectators of this extraordinary feat of the dwarf carrying the giant. When his Lordship declared himself ready, Sir John desired him to strip. ‘Strip!’ exclaimed the other, ‘why, surely, you promised to carry me in my clothes!’ ‘By no means,’ replied the Baronet, I engaged to carry you, but not an inch of clothes. So, therefore, my Lord, make ready, and let us not disappoint the ladies.’ After much laughable altercation, it was, at length, decided that Sir John had won his wager, the Peer declining to exhibit in puris naturalibus.”
Times, September 11, 1797. “A Mr Marston, of the Borough, has laid a bet of 2000 guineas, that he will, in the course of the ensuing week, go into one of the great wheels of the water works at London Bridge, while it is in its swiftest motion with an ebb tide, stay there five minutes, and come out again with safety, though not without accident, in a different part from that in which he went in: and, afterwards, walk one mile within an hour, on condition that the lower bucket of the wheel is two feet from the river bottom.”
A wager was made, in 1806, in the Castle Yard, York, between Thomas Hodgson and Samuel Whitehead, as to which should succeed in assuming the most singular character. Umpires were selected, whose duty it was to decide upon the comparative absurdity of the costumes in which the two men appeared. On the appointed day, Hodgson came before the umpires, decorated with bank notes of various value on his coat and waistcoat, a row of five guinea notes, and a long netted purse of gold round his hat, whilst a piece of paper, bearing the words “John Bull,” was attached to his back. Whitehead was dressed like a woman on one side; one half of his face was painted, and he wore a silk stocking and a slipper on one leg. The other half of his face was blacked, to resemble a negro: on the corresponding side of his body he wore a gaudy, long-tailed, linen coat; and his leg was cased in half a pair of leather breeches, with a boot and spur. One would fancy that Whitehead must have presented the most singular appearance, by far, but the umpires thought differently, and awarded the stakes to Hodgson.
In the early part of this century sporting men were fond of betting on the duration of the lives of celebrities. Napoleon I. was specially the subject of these wagers. It is related that, at a dinner party in 1809, Sir Mark Sykes offered to pay any one who would give him a hundred guineas down, a guinea a day, so long as Napoleon lived. The offer was taken by a clergyman present; and, for three years, Sir Mark Skyes paid him three hundred and sixty-five guineas per annum. He, then, thought he had thrown away enough money, and disputed further payment. The recipient, who was not at all disposed to lose his comfortable annuity, brought an action, which, after lengthy litigation, was decided in favour of the baronet.
A gentleman made a bet of 1000 guineas that he would have a coat made in the course of a single day, from the first process of shearing the sheep to its completion by the tailor. The wager was decided at Newbury on the 25th of June 1811, by Mr John Coxeter of Greenham Mills, near that town. At five o’clock that morning, Sir John Throckmorton, Bart., presented two Southdown wether sheep to Mr Coxeter. Accordingly, the sheep were shorn, the wool spun, the yarn spooled, warped, loomed and wove, the cloth burred, milled, rowed, dyed, dried, sheared and pressed, and put into the hands of the tailors by four o’clock that afternoon; and, at twenty minutes past six, the coat entirely finished, was presented by Mr Coxeter to Sir John Throckmorton, who appeared, wearing it, before an assemblage of upwards of 5000 spectators, who rent the air with their acclamations.
The religious impostor, Johanna Southcott, was the subject of at least one wager, for, concerning that, an action was brought on a bet that she would be delivered of a son, on or before 1st Nov. 1814. As she was a single woman it was held that no action could be sustained, as the wager involved the perpetration of an immorality.
I cannot give chapter and verse for the next two anecdotes, but they are generally accepted as true. The first is about Lord Brougham, who, in his college days, went one autumn to Dumfries in order to make one at the Caledonian Hunt meeting. According to the then custom, everybody dined at a table d’hôte, and, after dinner, betting set in. Brougham offered to bet the whole company that none of them would write down the manner in which he meant to go to the races next day. Those who accepted his challenge wrote down their conjectures and Brougham wrote down his intention of travelling in a sedan chair, a mode of conveyance no one had hit upon. To the races he went, an immense crowd seeing him safely chaired to the course. The bet was then renewed, as to the manner of his return to Dumfries, the acceptors taxing their wits to imagine the most improbable methods of travelling. Brougham had calculated upon this, and won the double event by returning in a post chaise and pair.
The other is a story of Brunel and Stephenson. They were travelling together in a railway carriage, Stephenson being wrapped in a dark plaid, on the exact disposition of the folds of which he rather plumed himself. “You are looking at my plaid,” said he to Brunel; “I’ll bet you ten pounds you cannot put it on, properly, the first time.” “I’ll bet ten pounds against the plaid,” said Brunel. “If I put it on right when we get out at the next station the plaid is mine; if I miss I pay you ten pounds.” “Done,” said Stephenson. Brunel sat silent until the train stopped; then, stepping on the platform, he asked for the plaid, which was slowly unwound by its owner and handed over: not to be handed back again, for Brunel wound it round his own shoulders as if he had always worn it. He had never tried it before, but, when challenged, did not like to be beaten, and, at once, set to work to study the folds of the plaid. “I got the thing pretty clear in my head before we reached the station, and when I saw him get out of it I knew I was right, so I put it on at once.”
Wagers about walking and running are very numerous, still a few might be mentioned, beginning with Foster Powell, who, on 29th Nov. 1773, commenced a journey from London to York and back in six days. He walked from London to Stamford, 88 miles, on the first day; to Doncaster, 72 miles, on the second; to York, 37 miles, and 22 miles back to Ferrybridge on the third; to Grantham, 65 miles, on the fourth; to Eaton, 54 miles, on the fifth; and the final spin of 56 miles on the sixth – making a total of 394 miles between Monday morning and Saturday night, and winning a wager of one hundred guineas.
Soon afterwards a reputed centenarian, and, admittedly, a very aged man, undertook to walk 10 miles on the Hammersmith Road in 2 hours and 30 minutes, for a wager of ten guineas, and he accomplished his task in 2 hours 23 minutes.
Captain Barclay, a famous pedestrian, in the early part of the present century, began his exploits at the early age of fifteen by walking six miles in an hour, fair toe and heel. His next feat was to walk from Ury, in Kincardineshire, to Boroughbridge, in Yorkshire, about 300 miles, in five very hot days. He hazarded the large sum of 5000 guineas, that he would walk 90 miles in 20 hours 30 minutes, and he accomplished this arduous task in 19 hours 22 minutes. But his greatest pedestrian feat was performed in July 1809, and is thus described in the Annual Register:
“July 13. Captain Barclay. This gentleman, on Wednesday, completed his arduous pedestrian undertaking to walk a thousand miles in a thousand successive hours, at the rate of a mile in each and every hour. He had until four o’clock P.M. to finish his task, but he performed his last mile in the quarter of an hour after three, with perfect ease and great spirit, amidst an immense concourse of spectators. For the last two days he appeared in higher spirits, and performed his mile with more ease, and in shorter time, than he had done for some days past. With the change of the weather he had thrown off his loose greatcoat, which he wore during the rainy period, and, on Wednesday, performed in a flannel jacket. He also put on shoes remarkably thicker than any which he had used in any previous part of his performance. When asked how he meant to act after he had finished his feat, he said he should, that night, take a good sound sleep, but that he must have himself awaked twice, or thrice, in the night to avoid the danger of a too sudden transition from almost constant exertion, to a state of long repose.
“One hundred to one, and, indeed, any odds, were offered on Wednesday morning; but so strong was the confidence in his success that no bets could be obtained. The multitude of people who resorted to the scene of action, in the course of the concluding days, was unprecedented. Not a bed could be procured, on Tuesday night, at Newmarket, Cambridge, or any of the towns and villages in the vicinity, and every horse, and every species of vehicle was engaged.
“Captain Barclay had £16,000 depending upon his undertaking. The aggregate of the bets is supposed to amount to £100,000.”
In those days there were sportsmen like Osbaldeston and Ross, who were ready for any wager. Let the latter tell a little story.
“A large party were assembled at Black Hall, in Kincardineshire, time, the end of July, or beginning of August. We had all been shooting snipe and flapper-ducks, in a large morass on the estate called Lumphannon. We had been wading amongst bulrushes, up to our middles, for seven or eight hours, and had had a capital dinner. After the ladies had gone to the drawing room, I fell asleep; and, about nine o’clock, was awakened by the late Sir Andrew Keith Hay, who said, ‘Ross, old fellow! I want you to jump up, and go as my umpire with Lord Kennedy, to Inverness. I have made a bet of twenty-five hundred pounds a side, that I get there, on foot, before him!’ Nothing came amiss to the men of that day. My answer was, ‘All right, I’m ready’; and off we started, there and then, in morning costume, with thin shoes and silk stockings on our feet. We went straight across the mountains, and it was a longish walk. I called to my servant to follow with my walking shoes and worsted stockings, and Lord Kennedy did the same. They overtook us after we had gone seven or eight miles. Fancy my disgust! My idiot bought me, certainly, worsted stockings, but, instead of shoes, a pair of tight Wellington boots! The sole of one boot vanished twenty-five miles from Inverness, and I had, now, to finish the walk barefooted. We walked all night, next day, and the next night – raining in torrents all the way. We crossed the Grampians, making a perfectly straight line, and got to Inverness at one P.M. We never saw, or heard, anything of Sir A. L. Hay, (he went by the coach road, viâ Huntly and Elgin, thirty-six miles further than we, but a good road) who appeared at ten A.M. much cast down at finding he had been beaten.”
There have been divers wagers about coaching, and also about horses, which have nothing to do with horse racing, and a few may be chronicled here.
On 29th August 1750, at seven in the morning, was decided, at Newmarket, a remarkable wager for 1000 guineas, laid by Count Taaf against the Earl of March and Lord Eglinton, who were to provide a four wheeled carriage, with a man in it, to be drawn by four horses at a speed of 19 miles an hour; which was performed in 53 min. 27 sec. It was rather an imposing affair. A groom, dressed in crimson velvet, rode before to clear the way: the boy who sat in the vehicle was dressed in a white satin jacket, black velvet cap, and red silk stockings, whilst the four postillions were clothed in blue satin waistcoats, buckskin breeches, with white silk stockings, and black velvet caps. The carriage is thus described: “The pole was small, but lapp’d with fine wire; the perch had a plate underneath, two cords went on each side, from the back carriage to the fore carriage, fastened to springs. The harness was of thin leather, covered with silk; the seat for the man to sit on, was of leather straps, and covered with velvet; the boxes of the wheels were brass, and had tins of oil to drop slowly for an hour: the breechings for the horses were of whale bone; the bars were small wood, strengthened with steel springs, as were most parts of the carriage; but all so light that a man could carry the whole, with the harness; being but 2 cwt. and a half.” Two or three other carriages had been made previously, but had been disapproved of, and several horses had been killed in trials – costing between £600 and £700.
In April and finishing on 3rd May 1758, at Newmarket, Miss Pond, daughter of Mr Pond, the compiler and publisher of the Racing Calendar, bearing his name, laid a wager of 200 guineas that she could ride 1000 miles in a 1000 hours, and finished her match in a little more than two-thirds of the time. At the conclusion, the country people strewed flowers in her path. It has been said that this feat was performed on one horse.
In the beginning of June 1800, a naval officer undertook, for a wager, to ride a blind horse round Sheerness racecourse without guiding the reins with his hands; this he performed to the no small amusement of the spectators, by cutting the reins asunder, and fastening the several parts to his feet in his stirrups.
Perhaps the best known match of modern times was one made at the Ascot meeting of 1888, of £1000 to £500 that a coach could not be driven to Brighton and back in eight hours. James Selby, a professional whip, started from the White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly, punctually at 10 A.M. on July 13, and arrived at Brighton, at the Old Ship, at 1.56 P.M. The coach was turned round and the return journey instantly started; White Horse Cellar being reached at 5.50 P.M.: thus winning the match by ten minutes. Selby died at the end of the year.
The betting book of White’s Club, dates from the year 1743 – the older book and all the other records of the Club having been destroyed in the fire of 1743. The following are some of the wagers therein recorded. The early ones are principally pitting lives against one another.
Feb. ye 3, 1743/4. Lord Montford betts Mr Wardour twenty Guineas on each, that Mr Shephard outlives Sir Hans Sloan, the Dutchess Dowager of Marlborough, and Duke of Somerset. – Voide.
Mr Jno Jeffreys betts Mr Stephen Jansen Fifty Guineas, that thirteen Members of Parliament don’t Die from the first of Jany 1744/5 to the first of Jany 1745/6 exclusive of what may be killed in battle.
Ld Leicester betts Lord Montfort One Hundred Guineas that Six or more Peers of the British Parliament, including Catholics, Minors, Bishops, and Sixteen Scotch Lords, shall Die between the 2 of Decemr 1744, and the First of Decemr 1745 inclusive.
16 July 1746. Mr Heath wagers Mr Fanshawe five guineas that the eldest son of the Pretender is dead, on, or before this day. To be returned if the Pretender was dead. – pd. Novr 28.
Octr 20th 1746. Mr Heath gave Col. Perry Twenty Pounds, for which Col. Perry is to pay Mr Heath one hundred pounds if ever he loses more than one hundred pounds in any four and twenty hours.
Novr ye 14, 1746. Mr Fox betts Mr John Jeffreys five guineas on Number Two against Number One in the present Lottery.
Lord Montfort wagers Sr Wm. Stanhope 20 guineas that Lady Mary Coke has a child beford Ly Kildare, and 20 guineas more that Ly Mary Coke has a child before Ly Fawkener.
January the 14th, 1747/8. Mr Fanshawe wagers Lord Dalkeith one guinea, that his peruke is better than his Lordship’s, to be judged of by the majority of members the next time they both shall meet.
These are fair specimens, and, after this date, the bets begin to be political and personal, and devoid of interest.
CHAPTER XIII
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 ye 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 bubbing49 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.