What the Butler Saw.

July 23rd, 2015

For every betting facility, there is a loophole that can alter its credibility.
I recently read a feature in the BOS Magazine about The Miss Betting Shop 1965, it was written by Chris Pitt, a wonderful historian regarding all matters, “Gambling” especially British Horseracing.

I remember the period like yesterday, my brother and I had built a small group of shops having dominated a brilliant area around the Austin Motor Company and the village high street of Northfield.
As soon as it was seen that the leading London firms would be betting on the outcome of this Human Event, some of the gambling brains were put to great affect. non better than Wilf Gilbert, a black country, duo Wilf and Geof.
What today’s betters should understand, is that when the High Street revolution commenced, all we had to bet on was Horses Dogs and Football. when the Big Freeze of 1962/3 commenced that was the end of racing for 4 months.
I cant say that I ever saw such an inspired team.as the Black Country duo.
It was during there ownership of Right Boy, (A great racehorse sprinter) that I got to like Geoff, I remember a tale he told me about his horse as he and his brother entered the parade ring, Piggott was waiting to mount the horse.
“Geoff had spoken to Lester on other occasions, but decided that as he was alone he would give him a final instruction as to how he wanted the horses ridden. before the trainer arrived.

“Lester, make your way to the rails, and don’t loose him until inside the last furlong Geoff always a little over weight, not only told the great Jockey what to do he actually used his hands in a copy cat of a jockey.”

Lester grunted and took his cap off giving it to Geof, with the blunt remark.

“Here you are Sir, It appears that you know more about riding than I do. you ride it and I will sit in the grandstand”

But the best incident Geoff told me about was in one of the races, were Right Boy was odds on, and some Bookmakers were betting on the distance, match, Under and over 2 lengths,
Lester who had noticed several Bookmakers betting this way as he went down to the start in a previous similar race.

Bookmakers Board
———————
Any Horse to Win.
The winning Distance.
Under 2 Lengths. Evens,
Exactly two Lengths ,7/1
Over Two Lenghts. 4/5

Piggott actually told the Owners, what he had seen in the Silver Ring, in a previous race, and that evens was a great price, under 2 lengths. Gilbert had already decided to go for a little touch, betting under 2 lengths,at Evens, himself..
In the last furlong Right Boy with a double handful. was a certainty. unless Piggott could hold him it would have been a distance. in the last 100 yards the outsider produced a spurt, and went a length clear,
Piggott never panicked, and with a little of his rat a tat tat, whip action he got him up on the line.

For a few minutes before the result was given, several Bookmakers offered odds against Right Boy. until Alex Bird the famous backer on distances. smashed all prices on offer. even though it was a short head, Alex was confident enough to bet 10/1 on.

When Piggott came in, Geoff, certainly not happy said “great ride Lester, but I am sorry to say I have fined, you your Fee. that smack you gave the horse will be costly.”

During the 1962/3 when the Bookmaking Industry came to a halt was a disaster, for the new Bookmakers, they were desperate to be advised what else they could bet on, many of the newbies, who hadn’t learned much about the game, was only to happy to be advised on other wagers to bet on. when it was seen that the Gilberts were betting on certain greyhound markets, the copied as a man.

One bet which was 8 races, to name 8 placed Dogs, and a similar list 8 dogs to be unplaced. my Dementia, denies me the exact odds being offered. but I do remember that to get 8 unplaced, was the one that the public liked best, however they soon found that it was difficult to get 8 unplaced runners. I am not absolutely sure what came first this bet, or the massive amount of dogs being doped. Hall Green being the one chosen by the Dopers,
The reason for this particular track chosen, against the many other tracks in the Midlands, Perry Bar, Kings Heath, Wolverhampton, Cradley Heath, and Willenhall. never mind Tamworth.

The reason was the way the Kennels, at Hall Green were so simple to breech, once over an outside wall. the Kennels were numbered 0ne to 56 a good judge would have calculated that trap one in the 4th race would be odds on. and before racing the trainer would place him, in kennel no 22, did not require brain like Einstein, to place a meat ball hanging at the wall behind the door, when the door was opened the dope was hidden once the door was closed, the dog soon smelt, the dope.
A further bit of information, after years of poor security, the old Kennels were knocked down, to reveal dozens of long pieces of cotton behind the doors.

During the spring Hall Green produced a great card, with 6 of the races, “Open Events,” were at least one of the runners were no hopers, 50/1 This was the type of card, clever dicks were waiting for.
When a small gang crept around the city (Birmingham) and all surrounding villages, getting on what ever they wanted,
It was only when the betting for the first Open race, was seen that it dawned on more than a few that they had been plucked. that started a panic. I was at Hall Green and must have been asked 10 times, how can we get out of this bet. I told the first a pal,
When my granddad was asked a similar question, he always said.

“An honest Bookmaker who gets conned cleverly, can always get out of his plight by bunging (Paying)

In race 7 the betting was 1/3 4/1 10/1 33/1 33/1 and every wager was going on to the 2 outsiders not to be placed.
A perfectly organised gamble no chicanery or confidence trickery. just a well organised and patient wager. It would have done Barney Curley proud.

In the case of the 1965 Miss Betting Shop. more than one of the “Runners” were certainly not
counter assistants, Model, or Beauty Queens perhaps I can assure you that of the runners, involved more than 3 who had never taken a bet in there lives. but were photographed stand to attention, next to a till.
As soon as the concept and rules were conceived there were plotters, organising a possible coup. mostly from the Manchester and Liverpool area,
The first phone call I had was from a Liverpool great Pat Whelan, asking me to create outlets, who would be betting on the event, I did quite a lot of business with Pat, in fact he was known as the 5th Beatle, the only difference was Pat was handsomer and with a greater personality. than John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison or Ringo Starr put together.

When I asked him which young lady he wanted to back. he said simply what ever Gus Demmy enters. Looking at the feature I noticed that Gus Demmy, had two runners, both of them Models from a important Manchester Model Agency. When I went to Goodwood years afterwards, Selwyne was betting in Tattersalls, number one in the second line.
When the Bookmakers had built up there tools, I noticed a dozen of the most beautiful Models in the UK, and all standing around the Gus Demmy joint, what a publicity stroke,
Back to the actual Miss Betting Shop event, one night after I had seen the Sporting Life comment, I was in the Cedar Club or the Moat House, not sure, the first real night clubs of note, owned by The Futeralls, Family, and The Banana King Mr Pike, I was the star goal poacher of there Sunday Football team, in our team were more than one Birmingham player, who were being paid not a great deal.in the room were John Prescott, (Brummie Boxing Star) Graham Green, (Birmingham Bookie) and George Best.(Requires no introduction) there must have been a dozen of the UK,s most beautiful young girls. including Diane Westbury, a Miss UK, who had been chosen as a judge, for the Miss Betting Shop.event.
I remember distinctly that GG brought the house down, when some one asked him, if his girl friend was a beauty Queen.

“He said Johnny is with Miss UK, George is with Miss World, and I am with a Miss Quarry Bonk, a little village by Brierley Hill. Dudley.
It was Graham Green who was suffering a nasty divorce from his Stourbridge Wife. at the time.
Graham followed up with,
“Does any of these beauties want a job in a betting Shop.”
The laughter was deafening although very few understood the implications, of which was an inspired and well organised betting coup.

The Miss World beauty pageant. was first created in the United Kingdom by Eric Morley in 1951.
Like many of the type of wagers, there was no security, regarding the event and the TV coverage,
How many years, past by before it became clear that LIVE TV, was not actually live.

The Bos Magazine also produced a small feature about the Druids Lodge Confederacy.
I would like to give my opinion about this period and the participants, involved, firstly it is important to clear in a simple way, the word Confederacy.
A. combination of persons for unlawful purposes; conspiracy.

Mary Chriss,s wife a very good writer on horseracing both UK and USA.
In here feature she at least mentions the dreaded D word, DRUGS.

In all due respect, the comment that the conspirator never resorted to doping horses.
requires much closer examination if the public are to believe the comment. my question is why would a gang of handicap cheats, carry out massive gambles without making sure for Doping horses was common practice following the American Invasion, when it was common practice to run horses down the field, to gain weight advantage when every body was doing that anyway.

Even the 4th of the English Racings greats, Admiral Rous, would allow handicap cheating as long as he was in on it himself.

I have spent many years examining, the two periods, that coincide The American Invasion and the Druids Lodge Confederacy. and have come to my own conclusion, and that is I am sure that the vast majority of the Druids plots were following the lead, created by the Americans, were dope and stimulants were common practice.
When the americans arrived, Richard Croker was in the forefront. he was on the run from USA having ruled Tammany Hall and was the most significant villain, in the history of Tammany Hall.
When it became clear that the USA Law was about to pounce, on his corrupt activities, He was refused to pen up a stud at Newmarket and had to go back were he started in mid 1800s. Potato Famine.

Croker had operated a stable of thoroughbred racehorses in the United States in partnership with Mike Dwyer. In January 1895 they sent a stable of horses to England under the care of trainer Hardy Campbell, Jr. and jockey Willie Simms. these were the leaders of the pack. other that followed were in England for one thing, and that was to skin the English Betting Rings,

I am sure that Croker was one of the main contributors to the Druid Lodge, Confidence trickery,
It was the period from 1895 when Richard Croker was running Tammany and paying many visits to several destinations including Ireland and England.

In the 1920s when he died he had over £5 Million plus, no one was more crooked than Richard, his involvement with Enoch Wishard, (The Doping King)and the Reiff Brothers, showed the way for the Druid Lodge copy cats.
1900 Wishard won a very competitive Stewards Cup. with Royal Flush, Croker and his Ypsilanti won three of the big handicaps, in 1901 to 1904 although by this time Croker was a sleeping partner, financing and advising, the vast majority of Druids Conspirators, and with the ability of how to use Wishards, doping skills, passed on to Fallon, as for the Irish Jockeys, like the two Dillon Brothers plucked from obscurity, who by Richard Croker of course.

The full story of the 6th Druid, will require a great deal of writing, by someone like Paul Mathieu. although it may be a little embarrassing that he did not include Richard in the first place.

Don Butler.

Doom and Destruction. Chapter Three,

April 17th, 2015

In the Church Leigh cottage, Both Mary and her mother were in a complete haize, not knowing what to do next, a local sawdust trader, who had befriended Isaac after his accident, was the first to offer a little advice, http://www.exploringsurreyspast.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/resized_350×466_Church_Cottages_20th.jpg
“You must go to see Isaac as soon as you can”
According to yesterdays Echo, your husband had pleaded guilty of the charge”

“You will need some legal advice”

Looking around the cottage it was clear that the little family were poor.
“Have you the money to get to Liverpool and back.”

“We have very little, Isaac always did that side of things”
“But the Vicar will be here soon we will confide with him about a trip to Liverpool Thank you for your interest” .
Before he he went about his business, the sawdust trader, left the copy of the newspaper with the story about her husbands plight. on page one. inside the paper was a £5 White Fiver it was clear that Isaac had some friends concerned about him http://www.britishnotes.co.uk/view_image.php?id=1199&thumbnail=3&t1=library&t2=obverse
It was Mary who picked the paper up and began to read the article out loud.

“Racecourse Villain Pleads Guilty to Murder”

Mary was brave to have continued however she had realized ever since they had first been told of the incident, that she would have to take the lead, for her mother was just not capable”

“Sit Down Mother” Mary continued.

“The death of Birkenhead hero “Little Tim Donnelly has caused shock waves all over the Liverpool area, after what had been a wonderful Grand National, without incident, during the race and after, was brought to chaos when a gang of Pickpockets, from Staffordshire resulted in the death of a well known and loved local man.

“Little Tim as he was known, was attacked, whilst drawing his winnings for the big race, no more than £3 off the second horse home, and yet he was robbed and murdered, as he waiting his turn for payment”

Grave Digger, Isaac Hall. from the district of Church Leigh has been taken to a Liverpool City Centre Station. and charged with the murder.
The arrested man had fought the police viciously using his hands and a knife, before surrendering.
During the mela Mr Donnelly was seriously wounded, and died before he could receive attention. several policemen from Liverpool were also wounded although fortunately non seriously. during the evening several of Little Tims close friends and Relations, attempted to break into the station to redeem, the despicable act.

“Sam Miller The well known Bookmaker from Stoke stated that Tim was just drawing his winnings after a small wager, when this man struck. he may have been part of a notorious Pick Pocket team, known as the Loudies, but no other person was arrested. although names and addresses are to be checked.

“Chief Inspector Bail, said that this was a despicable incident the worse he has witnessed since his time in the force. Tim was a well known character, who had been of great assistance to us in the past. his wife of 9 young children had been notified and was distraught.”

“Little Tim” a well loved Ex Professional Boxer born,an orphan but rose to prominence for his gameness, and his refusal. to give up the fight. his bravery, gained for him a great following,
Only a few months ago Tim had raised £60 pound for those lost in the recent ship fire off the Irish sea.

“It has come as no surprise to anyone when Isaac Hall pleaded guilty of the gruesome offence. The Inspector stated that the man was being held at a secret destination for his own protection.” ,

Liz was crying uncontrollably, even Mary who was shocked by the newspaper article was trying to keep some sort of control.

When the Vicar from there Church arrived even he seemed to be a less friendly than usual.
This was strange for he had always been an Isaac supporter.

“Liz I think that you should get to LIverpool as soon as you can, what ever your husband has done and it does seem completely out of character, he is still entitled to the church’s help although it is not for us to take a leed personally”

The Vicar didn’t stay very long, and did not enlarge on what he thought should be done. the impression was that he wished to stay well out of the publicity, that had already brought a terrible stain on a small village unknown by the majority of the United Kingdom. until this incident.

What ever would happen next, was in the lap of Lizzies God, for if the vicar had no worthwhile advice, what on earth could a distraught semi illiterate cleaner, unhealthy herself, and her 14 year old daughter be expected to do.

If Gods local helper couldn’t give deliverance then Lizzie did what she always did,
prayed direct.
It may have been less than an hour, when there was another visitor this time unexpected.the knock on the cottage door firm like that of a policeman.

As Lizzie opened the door, the strong sun high in the sky was obliterated, by what was a giant of a man. dressed all in black except for a a white collar. the figuur between the door and the sky created a divine like feature, making the visitor, look twice as big as he actually was,

The stranger spoke in a very soft voice,
“Can I speak to Mrs Small please”

“Yes sir come in” even as Mary spoke she must have known that the stranger would not be able to stand upright in there little kitchen.
“Would you like to sit” pointing towards one of only two chairs in the room.
Mary had formed an opinion that the stranger was there to help and with no one else giving them confidence, all was not lost.

Mary took over from her mother.

“Thank you young lady, you must be Mary”
“I have read about your fathers, predicament and I may have just a little news that could help you in the matter”

The word “Could and Help” together, was certainly a shock. no one else had been so positive, and although it probably was all over Liz’s head Mary was pleased to receive any advice. on what to do next.

My name is Cyril Hancock I am a partner, in the Uttoxeter Bookmaker we handled your fathers business in last weeks Grand National. we wouldn’t usually approach a client, to settle an agreement, but having read about your fathers predicament, my partner and I decided to approach, his wife, or any other of his loved ones, to see if we could be of assistance.

It is not ethical to discuss Isaacs business transactions, however we feel that this is an exceptional case,
Isaac placed a wager with me personally, it was £10. on Ally Sloper, the winner of this years Grand National. http://i4.mirror.co.uk/incoming/article5476841.ece/ALTERNATES/s615/Ally-Sloper-Aintree-winner.jpg

In this case your father was on a winner, and although we had no provision to pay anyone else, it was our belief that he may need, some legal advice, and that the winnings, from his wager may come in handy, if he decides to get the very best advice, which is very expensive.

“Your fathers wager placed late last year, has produced a winnings of £180.plus the return of his £10 stake, and our company having seen the trouble he is in, decided to approach you, as his wife, to discuss, the possibility, that we can discharge the debt, to you.

We have a document that we will require you to sign, you will notice that we have increased the amount to £200. as a token of good faith.

With this he passed a large white envelope, to Lizzie.

Mary, who always looked much older than her 14 years, had guessed that her father was hell bent on using her nest egg, to gamble there future with, and having read the news paper cuttings it was obvious that his gamble had paid, off.

It is what had happened after the event, that had caused disastrous consequence, not yet resolved.
It was the next statement made by Cyril, that filled Mary with happiness,
For he indicated that his firm would lay on the transport to take Mary and her Mother, to Liverpool. to see Isaac, the very next day.http://www.mbca.org/sites/default/files/imagecache/StarArticleLandscape/Web-1915%20M%2022-50%20saloon.jpg

Speaking to Mary and having come to the conclusion, that she was much older in the head than her body. he continued by discussing the problem direct with Isaacs Daughter.
We have our legal advisor at Chester not that far from Liverpool. so we can gain full legal advice at the same time as seeing your father.
I advise that the winnings you have in the envelope should be deposited in a safe bank of your choosing.

Liz just gazed into the sky, as if she was talking direct, to her personal adviser, Mary knew better, but for someone so young she had grasped two things one was the £200 was an enormous amount, and Cyrli had no need to get involved personally in her fathers plight. and she had become confident that the Bookmaker would help.

The next morning Lizzie, Mary and Cyrll were in Barclays Bank Uttoxeter arranging an account with £100 Deposited,in a Marys Trust Fund, £90 in a current account, and £10. required for there trip to Liverpool. The Trust fund was actually marys money, that had been gambled with in the first place, but secondly she had to be protected in case, all of Isaacs assets became vulnerable.

The next morning a motor car, arrived,at there cottage, to start the long journey to Uttoxeter, Chester and then Liverpool to see Isaac,

Nothing had been mentioned about the cash but Mary knew that the family had become rich, enough to pay all there outstanding bills. for a long time. if only her father could overcome what must be a mistaken charge.

By dinner time they were at Liverpool having decided to go to see Isaac, before discussing his situation with a legal team,
As soon as they arrived at the station, on the outskirts of Liverpool well away from the City Centre were Isaac had been taken originally. there arrival had been expected and it was clear that all three were to be treated like dirt.unbelievably the story about Isaac being part of a racecourse Gang, was being believed.

Cyril was a very intelligent man and soon made it aware to the police that he was just a family advisor, and without mentioning that he had no standing other than just a friend, his demeanor must have given them a conclusion, that he was there legal advisor.
Taken to a room next to the one where Isaac was being held. he was soon brought out to see his loved ones.

Cyril was just about to explain who he was in case Isaac had forgotten him.

When the door was opened two large policemen, carried Isaac, into the the room, were Lizzie Mary and Cyril were seated. they sat him down in front of them.

As soon as they saw him, Liz screamed Mary put her hands to her face covering her eyes, not wishing to copy her mothers response. but failed to do so.

It was Cyril who took over the families grief, with a demand
“Please tell Inspector, that we wish to see him here and at once.

The state of Isaac was unbelievable, he had a pair of short trousers, with one leg ripped away to reveal his amputated hump. it was as blood red as the day of the 5 hour operation.
All over the hump was concealed blood, red and black.

Isaac, was obviously in a state of utter agony, even his face had been molested, before anyone spoke one of the junior police, who had helped carry him in was showing his inexperience by speaking out of turn.

“He put put up a fierce, battle all the way from Aintree to here.”, forgetting that he had been taken to a different station at first.
Cyril who had taken a small note book out of his pocket was making notes.

That moment the Inspector came into the room.

With both wife and daughter crying endlessly. it was the Uttoxter Bookmaker who called the tune.

“Inspector I want a Doctor called immediately, this man is dying, and it is clear that he has been seriously abused whilst being interviewed. I would also like to be given the names of the Policemen who interviewed him when he made his guilty confession”

The Inspector himself was gazing at Isaacs thigh, where it had bled, the wooden leg that he had worn at the course, was no were to be seen his hump, were the amputation had taken place was red and raw, still bleeding.

There were marks cuts, and stains as clear as day, that someone wearing heavy duty boots had kicked the stump. the imprint still visible.

“Inspector I have witnessed in the last few minutes, enough evidence, to prove that a criminal act has taken place, in these rooms never mind a racecourse.”

Liz had come round and was loving her husband who was speechless obviously in terrible pain.
Isaac was whispering to his daughter,

“Do not worry yourself Isaac, I will help your family get the very best legal advice available. what ever you have said to the police about the incident, will be null and void as soon as we get redress for what they have done to you in there arresting procedures.

When the Inspector looked at Isaac, again he almost choked in his next statement.

“Fetch Doctor Brown at once” and I mean at once tell him we have an emergency.

After a few minutes, the Inspector someone who had seen every possible sights in his time in one of the countries hardest town for criminality

I wish to offer the prisoners family my deepest apology, I do not know how these injuries have occurred but I will certainly get to the bottom of it, I will hold an internal enquiry immediately.

Turning to Mary, Cyril told her to be calm we will soon have your father home. and his guilty plea, struck off.

Within a few hours, a senior member of Stanley,Stanley and Pipe, very respected legal Advisors from Chester was in the Station. taking over, from Cyril.one of there firms clients.

James Stanley a junior family member of Lord Derby’s famous line was just the man to advise against police abuse of power. his father in the house of Lords, had been waiting for his young son to show his skill. in advocacy.

With the doctor present, James Stanley, was demanding an internal enquiry at once this man has been attacked in a way that no policeman or even his advisors, should remain at there post.

I want a photograph of the Boot marks in the blood. it is as clear as day that someone wearing heavy duty Boots has stamped on this cripples thigh to do nothing else than torture

Within an hour Stanley had produced his own doctor to examine the injuries, but to call Mr David Cooke a doctor is an understatement of massive proportion.

Cook a retired surgeon, and expert in cases involving investigation into alleged police brutality.
What ever happened to allow some of the most influential. legal advice, had been produced, in such a quick time, there must have been someone overseeing what had taken place.
With the Inspector making his job difficult, the Station was in pandemonium. who ever had taken Isaacs original Statement had done a runner,
Claiming Illness, what ever he had been told not to say, he had forgotten to dispose of his working boots, the evidence that someone had stamped upon Isaacs amputation, was clear as day.
The clotted blood had left enough evidence to prosecute the wearer of those boots. that alone would remove the guilty plea.

It was the hawk like eyes of Mr Cook that had picked up spikes from a scrubbing brush, that had been used to clear boot marks, it was clear that a policeman, had stamped upon Isaacs Thigh, and when he noticed the imprint the next morning he had attempted to scrub it out. that act alone would have taken a half a dozen Policemen to hold the Grave Digger down.

The pain to obliterate that evidence with a scrubbing brush must have been unbearable, no one could imagine what pain Isaac had gone through.

Late that night there was an attempt by the LIverpool police to back track on Isaacs admission. .

Inspector, Brown had decided to make a fresh statement. that his diligent team had discovered, three other people who were being held regarding the Murder of “Little Tim”
Isaac Hall was to be released pending a further enquiry.
It was 3 days before Isaac, Liz and Mary, were back home in Church Leigh cottage with Isaac recovering from the most terrible event in his life, and that included his amputation.

The stories regarding the death of Little Tim had taken a different turn he had become Tim, a member of a racecourse gang of Extortionists, working for a few English Bookmakers, running what was called a “Ringing Outfit”
But a massive hole in the polices original case was burst open, when the Clerk working for Miller, when the Grand National wager was placed. he had pleaded guilty of fraud, it appeared that he had been a crucial part of the Ringing Team. but aa death, had caused him to get cold feet and come copper.

How it worked was part of a criminal charge by the Jockey Club, against a The Ringer Team, that consisted of Tom Miller the leader, and three further Bookmakers from Birmingham and Brighton.

The Tom Miller clerk had turned crown witness and when called to give his evidence the whole of the Bookmaking Industry appeared to be in court that day to witness what was a trade secret amongst, the scum in the trade..

“Evidence Bundle 120.

“My name is Freddie Lloyd, I have been a Racecourse Clerk since I was 17, I have worked for some of the best and most honest Bookmakers in England. when offered a large increase in my wages I dropped in quality, when I took a full time job with Mr Miller.
I was trained at once to carry out a “Ringer”

The word is simple to understand it means changing one thing for another, many will think that a Ringer in Bookmaking terms is the change of one horse with another,

In the case of Tom Miller and his ringing team, there operandi hanged a large wager, from the horse the client had requested, by giving the clerk a pre conceived sign, the clerk would then place the bet in a different column of another of the runners,

The Punter would hear the bet called out by the rouge Bookmaker but would just assume that it would be recorded correctly in the field book.

He would not know that his bet was in the column of a different horse. ,
The result would be that if the selection lost, then the stake large in volume, was there.s, (The Bookmakers)
If it happened to be in the column of the horse that won, the client would never claim for he had know knowledge of his bet being placed in the winning column

If his horse won, then there would be a dispute, but the amount of independent witnesses who claimed having heard the other horse requested, amounted to a dozen, all of them would be paid for there support. a further suport to prove that the Bookmaker was right and the Punter wrong, was when a small amount of the wager would be given to a Bookmaker of great repute, this proved to any authority.of the Bookmakers accuracy, and truthfulness.
Example a bet of £100 the Rogue Bookmaker would give £10 away, to prove that he had taken a bet honestly, and decided to hedge 10% to reduce his own liability.

No enquiry could come to any other conclusion as to the Rouge Bookmakers honesty fortunes won with this criminal act or fraudulent. confidence trick.
This is what took place at Aintree, after the punter Mr Isaac Hall. disputed the way he had been treated Miller called upon one of the heavy mob, if a punter refused to accept, the Bookmakers ruling “Little Tim”who happened to be over 6ft tall and a brute of a man
The term Little Tim, was a typical Liverpudlian joke.

After Tim attacked Isaac, it was true that a gang of well known Pick Pockets, joined in many had a grudge against Tim Donnelly and it was always known that it was only a matter of time before the ex Boxer, got his coming. unfortunately for Isaac Hall. he happened to be there at the wrong time, it was also unfortunate that he backed his selection with Miller in the first place. for there were 100 of Bookmakers more honest, in the same line as Miller.

Miller was given 18 months for fraud and his clerk 3.
So ended the notorious Ringer Fraud.

As for the Grave Digger, he received his full winnings, by Miller, after his membership. with the Midland and District, Bookmakers Association, £480 plus £30…(£510) after his 18 months in prison. he returned to racecourse Bookmaking again.
As for Isaac, he was wealthy enough to have a special Leg made for him and although he was never out of pain, life for him and his wife was wonderful. watching his daughter,having broken the family mould, by becoming a head lady teacher and mentor for the poor.

Don.

Chapter two

April 15th, 2015

Back home in Church Leigh, the small family had a love in showing that they were all one, if father was to survive, he had to have all the support possible.
Pain was the worse possible after effect of amputations, and the doctors, and surgeons had very little proof of how to conquer pain. It had only been months, when Isaacs, Amputation had taken place, and it was Heroin, that came to his assistance.

Lizzie had given up her job in the Hall to become a full time career every penny that they could get from charitable source must be put away and saved, the longer they could survive, the more chance they had not for Isaac and Lizzie but perhaps for Mary. after all there was still her little cardboard box. that she could use, if ever required.

Altogether they had received £15, cash donation 6 months free rent,
When things are as tight as Isaac, time just flew by.
One minute they were safe the next, London Rent Agents acting for the Snyds were acting aggressively.
It was when Mary told her father that she was willing to forget school and begin work. that Isaac, collapsed both physically and certainly mentally.

Every thing that he had dreamed of was now doomed. and falling apart.
Nothing could be worse. than to know that you have no hope. for once Mary joined the list of skivys cleaning other dirt, for very little reward.

When Mary arrived home she had some news for both her mother and father, she had been offered the job vacated by Lizzie,

“Ho No” cried her mother, don’t do that Mary, it is the worse job you could ever get, they will work you to the bone, That Irish Bitch of a Cook rules the kitchen like a demon, and if she finds anything not as clean as it should demanded expect a beating.

Isaac was suffering terrible pain in the stump of his amputation. his daily does of Heroin, mot the salvation he had thought. and yet he placed his strong arms around his daughter and cried like a baby. “Mary I will save us all you just wait and see. please do not give up on me yet.
Go back to school please, Mary. you are all we have left. without that dream of your education then we are lost forever. ”

For six months every thing was the same Isaac sitting in a chair looking out towards Church Leigh dreaming of his full time work. and those happy nights watching his daughter doing her homework.
Once again by October 1914 they were behind in there rent, and the London Agency were threatening immediate eviction yet again.

It was early in the morning that Isaac, after one of his very worse nights, pulled himself up and strapped his wooden leg, onto his blistered thigh and left the cottage still dark.

3 hours later he was in Uttoxeter, drinking a coffee in the “Lounge” of a well known Public house it was 10.0 o’clock and the Pub was empty along one wall was a list of names but the Heading “The Last Grand National”. confirmed what he had been told it was indeed an illegal list house of Bookmaking.
In the corner writing in a large ledger was a giant of a man 6ft at least but also 20 stone.

“Good Morning Sir”
“Will you explain something to me.”

“Certainly I will”
“What is meant by the Last Grand National”
“Well after this years race the track is to become a Garrison for the war effort other races will take place at Gatwick. ”

“Will this years race be run do you think”

“Yes we have been told that it will be on for certain”
“Do you want a bet then”?

“Yes can you tell me what price Lady Nelsons horse is?”
“I am sorry we only use the names of the horses and not Owners or Trainers.”
“Do you know the name of the Lady’s runner?”
“Yes it is called Ally Sloper and I see that you have no price next to its name”,

“One of our best customers has only just backed that by telegram from France.”
“It is not the first time he has backed it for he did so early in the year at 50/1″

” Tell me what yoru stake is and I will quote you a price”
“I want a £10 Win”
“Ok in that case I will offer you the same price 16/1″
“If you wait I will write out your Anti Post document. “.

“What do you mean by Anti Post?”
Isaac was a non gambler and his last statement proved the point.

“Well Sir Anti Post means that you are taking a chance in the horse running if he does not run you lose your money”

Even an illiterate Grave Digger doped in Heroin wasn’t happy with those terms.
And the manager saw it.
After a pause he stated.
“Right then as you are a new client I will offer you £10 at 16/1 non runner no bet”
This was unusual however a new client backing for the first time was well worth a little bonus.

This wager by Isaac, seemed to raise his spirit. he hopped into the Bar, and ordered a glass of Cider.
With a smile on his face his luck seemed to be on a role. for the Straw Agent, who gave him the short lift into Uttoxeter was about to go back all the way to Church Leigh.

As he sat in his favourite chair in there cottage his wife was petrified that he had done something bad. even taking his own life had been muted. gambling with Marys fund was a bad thing, but she was not the type to complain. in there small dwelling Isaac was still king,

“No Lizzie I feel a strong inclination that our plight is about to change for the better”
Even Mary when she returned from School was told of a hope, that now existed. before there had been nothing.

It was friday 26th of March 1915 when a Grave Digger, and his family were to learn there fate. would know his fate. Marys Fund had been called to account, her inheritance no longer existed.

From Church Leigh to Stoke by horse and cart and Stoke to Liverpool by train.
When he arrived at the track he was amazed not by the size of the crowd for it was hardly what he had been led to believe,
He was also shocked by the amount of runners on the Bookmakers boards 20. yet only days before the Ettoxeter Bookmaker was offering odds against 50.
The most important name to Isaac was Ally Sloper, a strange name it was on offer at 14/1 with Irish Mail at 6/1 and Lord Marcus 7/1 many Bookmakers were already betting on the race inside the track and outside.

In the Bookmakers line was a Staffordshire Bookmaker from Stoke, Sam Miller if that was his correct name certainly looked as if he should be honest. his board stated
“Civility and Prompt Payment”
There was something about the man that Isaac trusted,
His suit was dark blue with a red tie and silk handkerchief. on his pinkie finger he had a large diamond ring. and on his lapel he had a great big silver shield claiming that he was part of a Bookmakers Union. (The Midland and Area Bookmakers Protection Association)

Waiting in a small queue, Isaac reached the front, his £30 that he had in his hand was snatched off him and the horse mentioned by Isaac” Ally Sloper” was repeated as if my magic. Tommy was prepared to take such a bet, were Isaac had been warned that very few Bookmakers would do so. £480 to £30..Ally Sloper. was cried out load and clear as if the Bookmaker wished to used the size of the wager in a promotional way.
As Isaac looked in his hand a small flimsy paper ticket with three numbers had replaced £30 in cash.
There was no thank you or please, like Isaac had witnessed with his previous bet in Uttoxeter.

Isaac moved away from the betting line and made his way to the running rail facing the start, it was hours before the race would be off and as he stood there taking in all the atmosphere Isaac felt sleepy and soon he was on the grass fast asleep.
What ever he had taken for the pain it had worked too well.he never budged for at least an hour and half, when he woke up his timing was perfect for the horses were just leaving the parade ring and 0n the way to the start for the Big Race,

Every thing went quite until the call from all quarters “There Off.” ,

Without commentary or Binoculars, Isaac was at a disadvantage, fortunately for him that was the case, for at the 2nd jump Ally Sloper made a right ash of it changing his mind landing on top of the obstacle. as against over the other side.
His Jockey Jack Anthony, a brave welshman, was just about to topple out of the saddle when his younger brother Ivor, came up on his inside, pushing him back into the saddle were he recovered and continued.
If Isaac had been a professional racegoer, he would have soon given up his hope of glory, for Ally Sloper had failed to jump a single fence cleanly, however when he started on the 2nd circuit he had began to gain ground,
Two jumps out the cry for Jacobus, was load and clear, however for a moment every thing went quit again but then followed by

Ally Sloper Ally Sloper the winner.
As Isaac was only a short distance from the winning post he hobbled there just in time to see his selection win the great race by an easy 2 lengths.

Once again the newbie was out of his comfort zone he waited what seemed ages before joining the Tom Miller stand for payment.

When he arrived at the front he waived his winning ticket towards Tom.
After a pause the Bookmaker gave the ticket back to Isaac shouting “what did you back with this ticket.?”

Ally Sloper Sir.
Another pause was followed by “Ho no you didn’t that ticket is for Bachelors Flight”.
Shocked Isaac was shuffled backwards to the end of the Queue again.

Once again when it was his turn to question the Bookmakers statement this time the Bookmaker was more than aggressive. in fact a further member of the Bookmakers team had joined in the dispute. “Go Away, we are not fools we know what you backed and it wasn’t the winner” as Isaac moved closer to get his argument heard, the second man, struck him a glancing blow to his head knocking him down,

Recovering and standing on his one leg, he managed get a hold of the Bookmaker by his throat. and because his hand and arm were a very strong part of his body, he hung on like a leach.
The Bookmaker minder became even more aggressive and started to kick out at Isaacs, wooden leg, downing him to the floor, within a moment there was a riot. what had started as a simple betting dispute had become a serious, incident. with over 25 people involved.

The Bookmakers minder was being attacked from all quarters, the Bookmaker holding on to his betting bag. Isaac was on his back side crying like a baby calling over and over please, look again I am telling the truth.

Right in the middle the minder was on the bottom of a 5 man battle.
All of a sudden there was a load cry “MURDER” “fetch the police it is murder”.

As every one moved away the Bookmakers minder who had been the the most aggressive of all those fighting was seen to be lying flat on his back. a 6 inch knife protruding from his neck blood spurting all over the aintree grass.

As a dozen police arrived it was Tom Miller the Bookmaker who could be seen to be pointing towards Isaac.
“Thats Him Constable”

The next moment Isaac was in the back of a black maria on his way to a Liverpool police Station.
The end of the luckiest day, in his life. was it to end that way?

Chapter Three, to follow.

Why?

April 14th, 2015

Chapter One -

I had waited for my father to arrive from Aintree, as a 10 year old it had never dawned on me, that Horseracing contained cheaters, I Accept now, having seen the Pathe News, that Caughoo, the 1947 winner did so honestly, and had not fallen at the fence before Beechers, remounted and joined the leader Lough Conn, at the same fence second time round.
Whilst seeking as much facts about Aintree and the Grand National I found a period were the Jockey Club were greatly concerned that the Cheltenham Boys of the 1860s/70s had dominated the race,
It was the Canal turn that was causing most concern, running out and joining the actual path that ran along the Manchester to Liverpool canal. used daily for cart horses to pull the boats, the going was usually firm, but always better on the path than the going at Aintree Racecourse. s

The next day I was at the Yardley Wood Library, opposite my school. seeking out interesting literature about the great race, I found a book, with the most strange title “Why?”
I just looked for photos as I skimmed through the book,
In the middle page there was a Racehorse, titled 1915 Grand National winner.

Strange? for when I gazed at the opening paragraph, it appeared to be the life story of a Grave Digger. but even stranger was the fact that it was written by his 14 year old daughter..Mary. many years later.

I was just about to place the book back in its place out of sight. for not many would be interested in such a occupation.

As I passed the four books, of my choice to the charming old lady on the counter she even remarked, “What on earth is a book about Grave Digging of interest to a young lad like you?”

Before I had time to apologize, explaining that I had placed it in my list of four by mistake, she had stamped them with the days date.

As soon as I got home, my mother was also interested in what books I had chosen, remarking what do you want this Book for if you look, the last time it was taken out was 10 years ago. obviously not the most popular read.

Not responding I took the four books to my bed room, and placed then in order of interest,
Two Books on Football, one on cricket, and this “Why”
I was fascinated by every thing appertaining to the Greatest Horse Race on earth. perhaps the yarn will finish with the Grave Digger riding the winner of the Great Race.

When I began to read the book, I found that it was about a poor family who lived in a village called Leigh, a short distance from Uttoxeter, Staffordshire.

The Book had been written by Mary Small aged 15, at the time her Father Isaac was the Grave Digger, in question, working at the All Saints Church, Uttoxeter, and her mother a household cleaner, at Keele Hall. also in Staffordshire.

Isaac had been a corporal in The Staffordshire Yeomanry (Queen’s Own Royal Regiment) serving in the Boer War.
When he was injured he arrived back home to take up the occupation of his father and grandfather, as a grave digger, not able or even willing to seek better employment, he became convinced that he was destined to remain a a Grave Digger,

After his marriage to Lizzie they both decided that they would give up any chance of financial. advancement, in favour of there Daughter Mary, for Isaacs work was not one looked on as acceptable the family had very few friends, gravediggers had always been drawn from the lowest social class. http://afflictor.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/gravediggers.jpg

It had been very different in the Army, were Isaac was respected, as a soldier, as a Grave Digger, at least he had, work that he was good at, not particularly tall. he had massive shoulders, and arms, he could work all day without stopping .with the strength of an ox. he at least felt content that there would always be work, for him.

Every night in there small rented cottage, Isaac, sat with his lovely daughter, convincing her of the importance of education. she was in fact the first of his family, who looked like breaking the mold, from farm labourers, cleaners or skivvies, for others.

At least they had decided that out of there meager wage, they would save all they could for there daughters education.

One day Isaac, had been given a double grave for a local dignitary, with the recently deceased gentleman, who,s wishes were for a joint grave so that he could lay together, when his wife joined him.

With a large family it was decided that the plot would be exceptionally deep and well positioned.
After three days, the plot was finished and covering wood, protected the public from danger.
All that day it had been raining intently, Isaac had given the duty of covering the grave to a young apprentice. but examined it after he had finished,

With it raining all though that night, Isaac examined it once again the next morning,

As he strolled to the site, the mud had become so slippy that he decided to take the covering off, to examine the amount of rain, in the grave,

As he began to remove the covers. he slipped in the mud, and fell feet first into the 12 feet grave, what the apprentice had done was leave some of the heavy tools, used to dig the hole in the grave, one was a very heavy duty pick ax, as Isaac fell he landed on the tools, shattering his left leg, into a grotesque shape breaking both tibia and fibula so badly that amputation was inevitable.
After 5 weeks in hospital having been thought to have died twice, Isaac was returned to his home, the pain unimaginable. the amputation above the left knee.

What money they had lasted a very short time, even a charitable trust, paying there rent for 6 months soon disappeared.
Lizzie had to forsake her part time job as cleaner, to became her Husbands full time career.
Mary even though only 14 was given the job as cleaner in her place, If the pain and stress of Isaacs accident, was enough for any man to take, to see his daughter who was to showing great wonderful results at her school, was now carrying out the very same daily function that all the females in Isaac’s family had carried out for many decades. cleaners of other rubbish.

The word destitute, or even The Poor House. had never been spoken, that did not mean they had never thought of the consequence of failing to pay the weekly rent.

Isaac, never wanted to let others know there plight.

At Marys school were she had been a prefect, every one loved her, she was kind, friendly, and always smartly turned out..

Within 12 months all this had changed, Mary was missing most of the time.

When she was given a job cleaning, it was the one given up by her mother, at Keele Hall. for some reason never explained fully, the Cook Mrs O’Grady hated her Lizzie and when the pretty young girl Mary took her place the temperature was increased, a Fat, Obnoxious Irish Women hated any one pretty. and certainly someone who had been brought up intelligent and respectful.

When Mary arrived home after hours of being bullied by Mrs OGrady, too tired to do any educational work, it just fueled the anxiety, of both Father and Mother.

In 1914 the Vicar who had known Isaac for years arranged a meeting with His Land Owner, Sq, Ralph Snyde, his family owned massive swayes of land in the district, including All Saints Church and although it was a London Rent Agency who collected Isaacs rent. looking on a humanarian ground as an old soldier, if someone could help in a rent dispute who better than Colonel Ralph.

With the War in Europe imminent, any prearranged meetings were impossible however one thing The Squire would not miss if he could help it, was his local Fox Hunt.
And Ralph was not called “The Sportsman” for nothing.

Isaac who had still failed to master his Peg Leg, was helped out of his permanent, seat, by the cottage window, and carried to a carriage, by two of his friends both Grave Diggers,

As soon as he arrived at the Hall. Colonel Ralph,Snyde, gave the impression that he was less than pleased to talk to anyone, He had been discussing some problem about the Hall with his agent, from 1900 to 1910 The Grand Duke Michael Mikhailovich of Russia had rented the great Hall and moved out perhaps failing to pay the rent,what ever the discussion it was heated,
His agent was being treated like a school boy.
Col. Ralph Sneyd finished his short meeting with his agent, and said.

“Right I haven’t much time what do you want.”

He then poked at the cloth covering Isaacs right leg, revealing his wooden stump. next to his leg but not in use.
“What war did you get this Injury Soldier.”

It was the Vicar that joined in without Isaac saying a word.

“I wrote you a letter Colonel. about Isaacs plight”
“Ho yes I found it fascinating, this is the Grave Digger who fell into a grave”
“I must say a unique accident”
“Were you Drunk”
Following on with a school boy type laughter.

Not a good start, when trying to gain some charitable help.
Even the Vicar was at a loss for words.

“No Sir the poor man slipped on a very mudded patch of ground, but landed on the workers tools left there by an apprentice.”

“Give the fool the sack”

“Isaac fought very bravely in the 1880s Boar’s under Colonel Righteous, who had kindly written a letter in support.”

“Ho yes Righteous another old fool. from past wars he must be 90 at least it is a wonder he can still put pen to paper”
“Dont tell me Waterloo, has commented as well”
This soldiers Joke may have gone down well in the Officers mess, but was not with Isaac who grunted, fortunately however even after a 40 year lapse he knew his place.

“I wont waist any more of my time on this matter Vicar, I will send a letter to the Charitable Foundation to see what they think, although with the new War, only days away. we will have enough old soldiers with one leg to contend with”

The Vicar, distraught with what he had heard, moved away to speak to the Agent about Rent matters,

“Do you Gamble Isaac,”
The Colonel had softened his response.
“No Sir”

“What a pity, for whilst I have been at the Hunt this morning I spoke to Lady Nelson, she has a Horse that she will enter in this years Grand National or if not the next. I have seen it run at our racecourse and he is a marvelous specimen jumps like a stagg.
Try and get yourself some money and plunge it on this horse it is named Ally Sloper, at the moment it is 50/1 but not after I get my money on and don’t you repeat what I have told you.”

At this moment the Vicar returned and thanked the Colonel for his help and advice. obviously missing the Grand National Tip given to Isaac.
Perhaps the Land Lord had softened a little by calling the two over he stated.
“I will send a letter to the Agency, allowing 3 months Free Rent, but do not expect any more”.
“We are all in exceptionally difficult hard times.”

With this he was off towards the Hall.

http://www.antiquemapsandprints.com/scansj/j-20473.jpg

Chapter Two.
1915;

Anthony No not Anthony.?

April 2nd, 2015

In the 80s I noticed a clear out of my local library, with thousands of old books many past redemption, only interested in Racing Books I doubted any success.
In one corner I did notice a sports section, like magic as if the Book itself had been seeking a friendly type. my eye fell upon “Queen and the Turf” by Mrs Helen Cathcart, a relatively new book, but badly protected, a stain on the cover. did very little to enhance its value. “How much is this Book madam”?

“I have only just noticed the stain, you can have it for 25 Pence,”

A quick glance through the Acknowledgement heading, inside the cover made my blood boiled..

“The author wishes to express special thanks to HM Queen Elizabeth for her gracious permission to quote from Her Majestys personnel racing records.”

The names of racing personalities, required a close examination.
Captain Charles Moore her Majesties Racing Manager., Captain Boyd Rochfort, Mr Peter Cazalet, others were out of the time line, and my interest. of 1940 to 1950.

I thought that I was alone, when I called out Where’s Tony?
However an elderly women, concerned that I had lost someone, replied
“Can I help you, ? Sir, who are you looking for.?http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5SadJ_QRSkw/UNx_5wLP6vI/AAAAAAAAJ50/boNgU3GyLv4/s640/Anthony+Bingham+Mildmay.JPG

After thanking her for her concern, I went to the counter and purchased the book for 25 Pence.

When I arrived home I poured myself a sweet sherry, and looked up towards the sky, the gesture made by many religious footballers after scoring a goal.

Talking to myself I was most fortunate that I was also alone in the house,

” Anthony I realize that you will not remember me, when I asked you for your autograph, at Birmingham races, a little 12 year old in 1949. short trousers, and probably a snotty noes. I couldn’t fail to be impressed with you, and even though you looked to be suffering with a back problem, you signed my little book, without thought.”

I fetched the very same autograph book used at the time, along with a further Sherry, and although Anthony’s simple signature, of Anthony Mildmay. it became important when my father reminded me who he was

LORD ANTHONY BINGHAM MILDMAY OF FLETE.
Known as Nitty by all his personal friends, but Lordy by the many thousands in the cheaper enclosures, it mattered not one jiffie for Anthony was loved by every one. from the poorest sandust seller, to the Queen and her three daughters. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c8/ElizabethBowes-Lyon.jpg

This conversation, that I had with my father, in 1949 was boiling within my head, and an old saying from my school days, wasn’t improving my disgust.

“When something is ever left out that you know to have been important, Then Smell a Rat”

Another Sherry was required, I had never met Mrs Cathcart, and I realized that she was a very important author, having written 100s of Books. and I couldn’t underestimate the fact that she had gained permission to write this book, by Her Majesty the Queen.

As a humble UK citizen, gaining a good living from Her Majesty’s Sport, could I make a humble complaint, that I find it deplorable that Mrs Cathcart, has misinterpreted, your historical records, for to have forgotten, to mention Lord Anthony Bingham Mildmay, of Flete casts, an aspersion, that there was some reason to do so.

Your Majesty, “I fully realize that there must have been a error, by the author in excluding such an important person in the life of the Royal Family, during 1940 to 50.”

Anthony if still alive would I am sure collect me from my humble dwelling and taken me to the Tower of London. and the head chopping department. for making such a suggestion, that perhaps there had been a conspiracy, to Hairbrush, his good name out of its rightful and well earned place, and the importance of his friendship with your Mother during these early times. if not I am sure that Antony played a important part in all three of the Royal females, Mom, Margaret, and yourself, should never have been underestimated or in this case ignored. it was a travesty for it to have happened.

“Just in case you have forgotten. will you allow me to remind the Author what she has missed.”

In 1947 when 1st Lord Mildmay died, it was his son Anthony who took over as The 2nd Lord Mildmay of Flete, It was Anthony’s brave and bold riding in the country’s most important Sporting Event the Grand National. 1936 that brought him to the attention of a vast amount of racing fans.
Riding his fathers Horse Davy Jones, he made a valiant attempt to lead all the way
Three jumps out the previous years winner Reynoldstown and Davy Jones were well clear of all others.
It was here that the race took an important turn, when Faulk Walwyn was almost dislodged, and even though he recovered and made a great attempt to go past Anthony and Davy Jones, as they approached the 2nd last he was being held, comfortably in fact as Davy Jones jumped two out, in my humble opinion the race was all over. As Anthony gathered in the reins, with his mount pecking on landing the weight was thrown forwards snapping the buckle making the horse riderless.
With only Anthonys legs and knees to help control the horse passage,
Davy Jones ran out, scattering many spectators, standing at the last.

Instead of Davy Jones becoming just another disaster in Grand National history, it was his rider Anthony Mildmay, who became a National Hunt icon, winning the Amature riders championship
year after year.

He fought in World War II, as Captain in the Welsh Guards, after the war He succeeded to the title of 2nd Baron Mildmay of Flete, (1947)
It was during this period when the Grand National jinx struck yet again. Cromwell, was a different stamp of horse than the unfortunate Davy Jones, as for Anthony he had taken the 1936 National loss in his stride, ignoring the misfortune with a “Just one of those things” statement.
He was still riding many winners but also like all National Hunt riders, he received many bad falls, breaking is back and the bones in his neck after time off, he returned, into the game with only a bad stoop, to confirm what national hunt riders have to endure.
In 1948 Anthony rode Cromwell, in the National and during the race it appeared that the injury to his neck, struck again, making it impossible for him to look any further than his knee’s even though in fifth place a long distance behind the leaders, Anthony just sat and hopped that Cromwell would do what Davy Jones failed to do, by jumping the last two fences with no assistance from his jockey,
Cromwell ran home into 3rd place an amazing result when lifted out of the saddle by well wishers, they were informed that his neck had gone at the Beachers 2nd time round.
http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eVcXdXC5dog/UNx84PFpRxI/AAAAAAAAJ4s/Jshoq6Y57Hs/s1600/Capture.JPG
In 1949, Lord Mildmay was staying at Windsor Castle for Royal Ascot, it was not the first time that he had dined with the Queen Mother, but it was there and then that Queen Elizabeth, organised that they should sit together she was fascinated by Anthonys racing history, listening to Anthony’s, passion for the Jumping game, it was mentioned what he thought of finding a horse for the Queen Mother and Daughter, to race, during the winter months, Mildmay was appointed her racing manager, at that very moment, and he duly APPOINTED his very good friend and fellow ex Welsh Guard, Peter Cazalet, to train what ever horse they found. Lord Mildmay already had many horses with Cazalet. who was training in Fairlawn in Kent,
During the National 1949 a horse called Monaveen ran impressively without being placed, Anthony in finishing 5th on Cromwell was alert enough to have noticed this horse, and thought it would be an ideal starter, for the Queen. if Cazalet could broker a deal.
With Cazalet having been given the job of purchasing Monaleen, it was soon the first National Hunt runner in centuries,

After Monalen won its first race in the Royal colours, he was entered for the 1950 National
During the race Mildmay on Cromwell yet again, was brought down, but as soon as recovering his first question was how is Monaleen going.?
Monaleen except for a bad mistake 5 out ran a blinder, giving a great deal of excitement for the Royal party, who were soon joined by Anthony.

In horseracing history, many different years are confirmed as brilliant years usually the ability of horse, trainer or jockey. however nothing that took place in this year could have encountered for what disaster was about to occur.
Anthony was at his home at Flete House Devon and had rose very early for his regular swim in the sea,

It has been speculation what did happen ever since Anthony’s body was found assumed that he had drowned. later in the year, the dream that Anthony had for the success of Monaleen was ended, When he was killed at the Hurst Park water jump.

During his career, Anthony rode no fewer than 32 winners in one season. He rode eight winners at Cheltenham, including three at The Festival. but the best accolade of his ability was when Vincent O’Brien, arguably the countrys greatest trainer both flat and jumping, chose Anthony to ride for him.
What must never be forgotten is the way that Lord Mildmay, created a relationship with the three Royal.women, Queen Mother, The Queen to be and her sister Margaret, if there enjoyment of his company was tantamount to a fleeting flirtation, we will never know.

Perhaps Anthony deserved a little more of a mention, and the comment that in 1949 The Queen Mother first asked Peter Cazelet to look about for a steeple chaser of quality which she proposed to own in partnership with her daughter..is blatantly untrue.

A further point I do not feel lies well with me.

6 months before his death the Princess Elizabeth had been a guest of Antonys, at his home.
Princess Margaret attended her first National Hunt in Anthonys company during a stay Torpoint these arranged meets showed that there was no doubt Lord Mildmay was a very close family friend, what a pity that Helen missed the trick.

“He had been an Enjoyable Guest at Ascot and after at Windsor Castle.”
As stated by Mrs Cathcart, was a perfect way of damping down something that very few people knew existed, .
I will not indulge in any personal gossip but someone was very impressed in Anthony but probably this before his many injuries, caused his stoop. we will never know,

RIP Anthony, from that little autograph Hunter.

Golden Balls

December 19th, 2014

The other night I invited an old friend if mine from the 50s, William,he was an original carpet king, selling indian carets with less than a 1/8 th inch pile at auction.
He gave up working for himself after he met Harold Plotnek,the Birmingham Carpet King, and he became a Harold ace salesman, were the commision was brilliant.

We discussed the death of my pal Don Ruben who tried to mimic Manuel Fangio in his E.Type Jag, hitting a conker tree 10 ft in the air. RIP Kid.
Still on his sweet, of Bread and Butter Pudding, I told him about one evening when I was sitting next to Donald at Rainbow Casino on the Chemmie Table it was the biggest game for ages every big hitter around was at that table table that night.

I had managed to get a seat behind Don Rubin, the croupier did not usually allow this, however as he was my future Brother in Law, he was a little lenient. on the two side’s of Don was Harry Plotnek and Jack Evans (Car Dealer) opposite was Mucklow a giant in the building trade. I had never seen as many chips until Harry Ramsden arrived in the midlands during the 80s,

It was on a thursday I remember it well for although I was getting £30 a week working in a Selly Oak illegal betting shop, I was reliant on Donald to finance, the party we had organised for later. as the game progressed Evans and Plotnek were at the knock out with each other, dictating the play no one else could get a look in.
All of a sudden there was a plopping noise, I definitely heard it although at that very moment Evans was about to do a 6 timer, and the table was full of side bets. what ever it as no one else reacted.

I looked between my legs and it appeared that I was in a Hippodrome Pantomime perhaps Cinderella for my black italian left shoe had turned to green and gold.

I looked into Harold’s eyes, they were blank more concerned with his involvement having challenged the Henley in Arden car King, I looked the other side and Jacks smile was as wide as Bristol Road was long. he certainly wasn’t interested in any £100 loose chip that may have been his.

I sat as stiff as a board who should I front, to claim the 6 inch by 4, Golden Chip I knew that both would claim it, .

Fortunately for me 6 was the end of Jacks run, Plotnek was placing his pot in little blocks like Carpet Shops, in the UK high streets. even done had missed it, the ball was in my corner, what I should have done and did do failed to live up to the way I had been taught, sorry to say I put my size 7 shoe on top of it. spending the next 30 minutes shaking.

William had a smile on his face similar to Jacks had been before the end of his Run.
This informed how much he disliked his Carpet Job.

We then went on to discuss his Gambling Addiction that I had known about for many years, but he still denied. My wife and I had always felt sorry for him, for he was absolute gent,

“Do you remember when we last spoke about Roulette”
“Yes you asked me how I could get you off your addiction”
“And what did I tell you to do”.?

“To Waite until the wheel was spinning and then having picked up the salad bowl from the restaurant. empty it on the wheel and duck.

“Why did you say Duck.?”
“Well you didn’t want to ruin your suit did you.

“What happened i’ve forgotten after all these years.”.

“The manager just grunted had 3 people clean up and carried on playing and never mentioned anything to me”

It was my turn to laugh I almost swallowed my bottom part denture. having now realised actually how much he must have lost per year. for the manager to ignore such a incident.

“Yes I also remember teaching you to card count, don’t tell me you still donate money on a regular basis.”

“Card counting was just a boring thing, to do, Who was it who taught you. “?

“As you know I hate repeating something that I was told in secrecy. even if it was 40 years ago and the person who taught me has been dead for 25 years.
“Well he probably forgot it by now,
“Yes but I will probably be seeing him shortly”

Another bust of laughter,
“Go on tell me it all again, how do I win at Roulette”
“You said it was called the 5 minute smash and grab why 5 minutes.?”

“Ok but try and remember it this time. When I was betting at the races, in the late 70s, I used to drop in to ViceRoy Close on the Bristol Road, every other week, and have a coffee with Jack Woolf, one of the original Woolf Gang, along with his brother Solly, William Hill. and Tommy Turner. they made up the Birmingham Boys.”
This was during the early 1920s all of them finished up great Bookmakers, although these were the real team.unlike Thomas Shelby and his team. bothering themselves with Home Rule problems.

Jack would tell me about his time as a milkmans helper holding the horse whilst the Milkman delivered the milk.in a big tall silver container.
“One day in the freezing cold he loosed the reins and the horse bolted”.

That was the only time he worked for someone.

Jack with Solly who was a good form student of racing, formed an alliance with William Hill that remained all there lives.

It was Jack’s Dad or uncle not sure who got William Hills pitches back after a default at Wolverhampton. in fact this relationship can be seen in the many racecourse pitch note books that showed William number 6 in all the Midland Rails lists and Jack number 7.

“What did he tell you about his Casino The Wheel Club” in partnership with Bill Cutler.”

“Don’t mention William Cutler ,in 60 years I had a hit list of only 3 people and Cutler was number one In all my life I never met such a flash arrogant individual”.

“As for Jack the Gentleman, he always liked me I don’t know why, he had come from low down in any great expectation, but once on the Bookmaking Ladder, he was off and running, but had a lotto type advancement when he went to Worcester one day and received a phone call through the Blower, asking him to phone William Hill.”

“The conversation I guess must have followed these lines”

“Jack Dorothy has been rerouted to Worcester from Hurst Park, I had been told that she had 5 runners 3 at Hurst Park and 2 at Worcester but they have changed there mind,”

“She has no Bookmaker she can trust, in the Midlands when I am not there,”
Bill was never short of a little arrogance himself”
“I have told her secretary that you will handle all her business, for her,”
“Give her what she wants and just put her bets on top of the Joe Rook (Book) we can settle tomorrow at Leicester. ”

“Jack never told me what happened but his betting style jumped from the Championship to the Premier League. after this opportunity and by tye way she never had a winner all day”.

“I remember asking Jack about the great horse Tudor Minstrel. the 2000 gns winner in 1947. The talk in the village was that Billy had gone bottom up. taking any bet he could against Tudor Minstrel winning, the Derby and his old friends, from the Midlands followed suit including Jack.

Bets as high as 7/1 to 9/2 had been offered at Newmarket guineas day even though every one there that day wanted to back him for the Derby, that was all except William,

It was after the big race when it became clear what had happened,
A letter sent by Tudor Minstrels trainer Fred Darling to The King informing him that Blue Gown had been scratched.
Every one in the stable were were sworn to secrecy,
All though Blue Gown was a fair horse his actual form in 2 trails had been suppressed. it appeared that only William, Gordon Richards and Fred Darling new the truth. he was a much better horse than Tudor Minstrel.

This was the ace in the hole that William had up his sleeve,

What better ace could a Bookmaker have when every one in the land wanted to take evens Tudor Minstrel. whilst William knew that there was a better horse about to be declared, a runner.

“My father Phil who was the midlands Top Tick Tac at Epsom never took his eyes of the William hill team, during the betting but at odds in there was not much William could have done other than pray.
And I can repeat what he told me.

“It may never be known by any outsiders, how much William stood the Minstrel for but what ever it was he never cracked his face before during or after the race,
So the rumours about what would happen if the favourite had won was just hearsay and created by jealous competition of which there was plenty”
“As for Jack I got the same response that I did after my Dorothy Pager, enquiry.when I asked him what he had done in the race”

“Do you want another Coffee Son”

“Tell me what he told you about Casino Gambling. that all I am interested in, we cant do much about the Tudor Minstel Derby now can we”,

More Laughter.
Well it must have been December 1961 I was in the Ambassadors very late when sitting at a table was 5 midland Bookmakers
Jack Woolf, Geoff and Wilf Gilbert Bill Cutler, and Bill Moist, every one new that the Laws on Betting Shops was imminent I guess although I would have been welcomed to joined them, and I hadn’t had my confrontation with Cutler at the time I decided to join a table with one silver ring Bookmaker all on his own, I also knew that he was very ill, and having lost my mother a few years before I was sympathetic .to his plight.

“You are not going to tell me the secret of making Roulette pay are you?”

“Why should I you will only forget what I told you as soon as that little ball starts to spin”

2nd Chapter Shortly

Don

Secrets

December 17th, 2014

The more I examine the Sport of Kings, the more secrets I find,
In fact I thought Free Masons were secretive. but nothing compares with The Jockey Club. 1750 to today. The original Committee of the “Club” were racing enthusiasts, were did it say they would take over the sport. how it was run and mostly the revenue gained. https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTau8g7ndn-tDu__wmBHRIZ9OjzONsufiLb6lhg-ZT067mWUeiNRg

Between 1750 and 1758 They organised a weighing in system in 1760 racing colours were registered at Newmarket,
1768 Charlie Banbury was elected perpetual president.the first of three Dictators of the Turf.

1790 a Handicap of 14 runners took place at Newmarket.

Dictator not the best of titles you may say.as for Lord Bentinck his trickery even shocked me, I suppose the admiral would be number 3.
At least if the Druids Lodge cheats had been about during The Sailors watch the handicapper would have said, You have two options, either I increase Ypsilanti by 14 lb or send me an anti post voucher
£25 Each-way at 25/1.

A question I have always wished to ask, someone at the Jockey club is how could a illiterate Fishmonger take over the vast majority gambling on horses defying all the statutory rules that existed, and with the money he gained he set up a mathematical game called Hazard that not one Etonian has ever mastered, not even Charles james Fox Banbury one of the Schools geniuses. who stated that he loved maths more than anything, so did crocky,

Horse Racing is obviously based upon Secrets, without secrets there would be no excitement.
Not every one would agree but The Sport of Kings is based upon Gambling without the thrill of a gamble the vast majority of brits would soon lose interest, after all there is plenty of other exiting opportunities for there gambling £1. perhaps not so with the £1 Each Way.

As soon as the handicapping system, was created secrecy grew there has always been questions asked about the Game and its Club, but never answered.

Why was the Jockey Club formed, after all it was just another Gentleman’s club with many of Whites members with double the fees.

Questions like who sanctions the Levy Spend. has never been answered
The Jockey Club is now a financial juggernaut, perhap a little late some may say but may I ask a impertinent questions. were do all the profits go.?

I remember asking the same question about NARBOL in the 1980s to no avail.

I would love to ask the same question that Lord Rothschild in the 1980s Royal Commission. asked,
“Who is there to protect us from the protectors,”
How many racecourses, are planning to follow Chester offering there own betting service. fixed odds or may be Tote, I must not forget Betfair.

If every thing is fine and dandy in this sport of ours, let me ask a final question.

* If there is a Drone attack during the running of the Gold Cup.this year that interrupts the running of the race, will there be a rule to abandon all wagers placed anti post, during normal market, fixed odds, or starting price, Tote or Exchange, to include in running wagers with Betfair..

I understand that the BHA would arbitrate after such a calamity, unlike the day at Chester in 1800s when the starter himself concocted a massive stroke were only one runner got away at the start even though the horse that got away alone and won, was owned by
a The Starter who was the following.
b, The Jockey Clubs Chairman,
Was there an enquiry? I am not sure.

Finally I intend to write my first serious Book, simply called The Club. could I be allowed to take a look at a few of the clubs historical documents, don’t forget you could always blame anything on your great great father in laws Snobbery, sneering and secret sniggers: may be a response to my written report. but don’t forget if Crockford could do it then so could I.

Don

The Project.

November 21st, 2014

Over the last 2 year, I have been frustrated regarding my role in life, taught to be a loving family man, I have carried out the function diligently.
my two sons, only had to ask, for advice, and I would place my arm on there shoulder and work out what should be done to alleviate them of there pain.

However for those who know a little of thought, will know that two years ago. a happening took place that no father and certainly no mother should face.

It was a moment in my life when I questioned my role.
It was a moment when I realized that every one will be asked a question at some time when there response will be of no use to the questionnaire.

“Sit down Dad, I wish to ask you something, I don’t know what to do”

The request that I sit down, should have set on motion the same type of fright that would occur when the door bell rings at 4.30 in the morning, and a policemen is at the door.

The period of 2 years 8 months and it is no easier,

On a personnel note, I still have two wonderful grand Kids, who have all the characteristics of there father so that every time I see them I get the impression that he is till with us,

Personally health wise I have over come the problem of my knee’s the replacement (Right) is brilliant no pain and can power walk 4 miles a day.
However there is a feeling that dementia could be a problem in a few years time, how do I know, I will explain.

Over the past 12 months ago I have enjoyed the two T.V offerings,
Mr Selfridge and Peaky Blinders.in the case of the former I always enjoyed reading about Harry Selfridge as I had never seen him, personally, for he died when I was 10,
The program director had a problem by the time Harry came to London to look for a site for his first super store .he had knocked 5 years off his age, already.

Watching the program, I could visualise what it would have been like to see one of the many stars of radio and film who went racing during the time.
I once saw The Aga Khan the year before he died and once again The Prince and Rita Hayworth standing less than 10 yards away was much better than any Train that my school chums, may have seen between filthy black smoke,.

I also saw George Raft, when he was part of a team (Mafia) looking for a Casino opportunity.in London, fortunately they were all ousted.

For those who are prepared to calculate Harry’s age, you will understand the difficulty in balancing his play boy description when already in his 80s.
I cant wait to see the final episode where Harry is booted away from the Shop entrance, as a tramp.
I realise that it is good coverage, to have the ex-billionaire, play boy, living with his daughter in a Fulham slum. I can fully understand why the historians, don’t mention that his daughter was a Russian Princess, perhaps she was on benefits also.

As for Peaky Blinders the Shelbys struggle to keep up with anything factual they mention taking over the on-course racing industry, it was sad to see the film of Tattersalls Epsom Derby day, for in the mid 1920s Bookmakers were betting in lines like they do now, every Bookmaker would have had one Bookmaker,a clerk, a floor man and tick tac, all round the joint. and as the horses were supposed to have been at the off, there would have been 5,000 people in the betting ring, not half a dozen. but then I guess expenses must be considered.

Whilst on the subject of historical content, I have been vetting The Book, “Druids Lodge Syndicate,”
I have always enjoyed this great book, by Paul Mathieu. however I have also had a feeling that there is something not right with the facts portrayed. who am I to say that Paul may have missed an ace in the syndicates hole.

Take for instance, the so called 5 brains in the plots, like the American doping gangs on our soil; that took place between 1895 and 1905, the question must be raised were they gaining more than simple handicap cheating.

Could he have missed a number 6, in the plotters, an American who was very close to the New York Mafia, and as a politician was so corrupt that it was the Irish who ruled New York. He was days away from prosecution, hence he bolted back to his birth place Ireland, taking a 2 fortunes with him. and I guess someone with his millions living in a mansion was never short of a stroke or two.

His relationship with the Druids Syndicates, Irish Vet, and the two horses, Ypsilanti and Hackers Pride, and all the leading American jockeys was to close for comfort, for our Jockey Club, but I am afraid they were out of The Irishman’s League.

I also feel that a close examination of the Jockey Club itself, during the doping years just to many Old Etonians, hovering around the plot. for my liking, I cannot believe that what was taking place on British racecourse during the period in question stinks to high heaven.

———————————————————————————————————–
I will not bore your intelligence to much, at the moment, I will carry on my full enquiry, and bring it to you attention, in due time, the full glare of interest as far as I an concerned fall’s on Lambton. the trainer his involvement in the Doping scam, to clever to be anything but dodgy.
http://www.lrgaf.org/articles/George%20Lambton.jpg

Like robbing a bank to show how easy it was. would not go down very well with your insurance broker, I cant see the police standing for that one, and as fore the friend who he gave some dope to try, didn’t anyone think of the losing punters,

Just read this and tell me that you don’t get a feeing of nausea,
-
Lambton, Statement. ———————————————————————–
Mr. Lorillard and Mr. Whitney were the type of sportsman that any country would be proud of, and their trainers, first Huggins and later Andrew Joyner, were two good fellows. Both of them, especially Joyner, were very popular with the racing world. Their horses were always run out in the most straightforward manner. I can say that at the time when Joyner made up his mind to leave England and return to America there was no more popular man in Newmarket, and I shall always look back with pleasure on the dinner we gave him before he left. The more Americans of this sort that come over, the better.

At the time I write of, Mr. P. Lorillard had a large string of horses in England trained by J. Huggins. He was as great a gentleman and as good a sportsman as ever went racing. He was not a new-comer on the English Turf, for in 1881 he had won the Derby and St. Leger with Iroquois, and in 1879 he had a wonderful old gelding called Parole. This horse created a sensation by beating Isonomy for the Newmarket Handicap in April. He was ridden by Charles Morbey, and started at a hundred to fifteen. His victory was not unexpected by his connections, and he followed it up by winning the City and Suburban and the Great Metropolitan, in both of which races Archer was his jockey. Mr. Lorillard’s horses were then trained by a curious character, Jacob Pincus, who remained in this country when Mr. Lorillard for a period gave up racing in England and returned to America. Pincus had practically given up training, but occasionally had a horse or two of his own. I remember one year when, as a very old man, he owned two shocking bad horses, and, much as everyone would have liked to see the old man win a race, they were so bad that they were the despair of the handicapper. Yet on the same day at Lingfield both these horses managed to get their heads in front, and the public was as delighted as the owner.

I believe it was the interference of the Government with racing in America that brought Mr. Lorillard and his horses back to England. He had an enormous stud in America: his yearlings were broken and tried at home, and he brought the best to England, where he had considerable success for some years. Mr. Harry Cuthbert, well known to race-goers of to-day, then quite a young man, came over with him as his secretary, made his entries, and had much to do with the breeding of his horses. Mr. Lorillard was a great believer in English blood, and frequently replenished his stud with it. Eventually, Lord William Beresford entered into partnership with him, and, with Sloan as their jockey, they had a right royal time.

The late Mr. Whitney and his son were both of the same class of owner. When they gave up and retired to their own country, they were a great loss to English Racing. Mr. Whitney got his racing colours in rather a curious way. One August Meeting, at York, I was in a vein of bad luck, my horses being continually second. Mr. Gerald Paget came to me after one of these reverses and said, “Are you fond of your colours?” They were light blue with a brown cap. “No,” I replied, “I hate the sight of them.” He then asked me if I would take £100 for them. “Give me the money,” I answered, “and they are yours.” The deal was completed at once, and then I learnt that it was Mr. Whitney who wanted my colours, and as long as he lived his horses carried them. At his death I got them back again. Partly on account of my old colours I was always fond of backing his horses, and I had a good race on Vladovski when he won the Derby.

Another American trainer, Wishard, was a very shrewd man, who won a great deal of money. He went in for a different class of race, and trained for a different class of owner, but I personally liked him very much. He was a remarkably clever man with horses. There is no doubt that he supplemented his great skill as a trainer by making use of the dope. In those days there was no law against this pernicious practice.

Wishard brought over with him as jockeys the two brothers Lester and Johnny Reiff. Lester was a very tall man, and had great difficulty in keeping his weight down. He was a fine jockey, and a wonderful judge of pace, while Johnny as a boy was the best light-weight I ever saw, excepting Frank Wootton.

I always thought it was a great pity that Wishard ever took to doping, for he was somewhat of a genius with horses, and would, I am sure, have made a great name for himself without it. His horses generally looked beautiful, and I am sure whatever dope he used could not have been a very powerful one: they looked too well for that, and kept their form too long. I had many a talk with him, and found him a most agreeable man, but we never got on to this subject.

Perhaps his greatest success was with Royal Flush. He was a very handsome chestnut horse by Favo, and had passed through more than one man’s hands, but at the time Wishard bought him he belonged to Mr. F. W. Lee, who is well known to the present-day racing public as the Handicapper at most of our big meetings. I am sure that Royal Flush must have taught his genial and kindly owner what an uncertain thing a race-horse may be, for he, while well known to be a good horse, seldom produced his home form in public, and he continually disappointed Fred Lee. But when he had been for some time in the hands of Wishard he began to show what he could do. After running a good third for the Jubilee at Kempton, he won among other races the Hunt Cup at Ascot and the Stewards’ Cup at Goodwood.

I remember Wishard telling me to back him for the Hunt Cup, but, knowing how often he had disappointed his former owners, I would not do so. And what a fool I felt when I saw him run a game, honest horse and win a head. From that time on “he got better and better”, and ended the season by running a match for £500 at Hurst Park against Eager, the best sprinter in England at the time, at even weights. The excitement over this match was intense, and the betting close. I was firmly convinced that Eager would win, which he did with ease, but the career of Royal Flush bears out my theory that Wishard was a great trainer as well as a good doper. Whether Royal Flush was helped by a dope of course I do not know, but if he was it cannot have been a very injurious one, or he would not have kept his form throughout the season as he did, and come out always with the appearance of a perfectly trained horse.

There is no doubt that the Americans started the practice of doping, though it must not be supposed that they all doped their horses. Both Huggins and Joyner detested it. They had seen too much of the mischief it caused in their own country, but, when they came over, there was no law against doping and those people who, like Wishard, made a study of it were perfectly within their rights.

It was Huggins who told me how it originated. In America they used to race eight or nine days in one particular place, and would then move on to some other district, where the same thing would take place. The consequence was that towards the end of these meetings most of the horses had run several times and were played out. In fact, it became a survival of the fittest, and every dodge and device was used to keep the poor devils up to the mark, and some man hit on the marvellous properties of cocaine for the jaded horse.

After the Americans brought the dope over here, many Englishmen took it up, but they were not very successful, as they did not really understand enough about it. My own experiences were rather interesting.

I remember at the Newmarket First October Meeting of 1896 running a horse belonging to Sir Horace Farquhar, called East Sheen, in the Trial Selling Stakes. He was a useful plater, and anything that beat him was worth buying. In this race he was beaten a neck by a chestnut mare, Damsel II. When she was put up to auction I bought her for £450. She was pouring with sweat, looked very bad, and I thought that I could probably improve her. That evening, when I went to my stables, my head man remarked that the mare I had bought was a wild brute, and had been running round her box like a mad thing ever since she came home. I went to look at her, and she certainly was a miserable object, with eyes starting out of her head and flanks heaving. This was the first doped horse I ever saw, although at the time I was quite unaware of what was the matter. I gave the mare a long rest, and got her quiet and looking well, but she was no good. Eventually Charlie Cunningham bought her for jumping, but he could do no good with her. He afterwards put her to the stud, where she produced a dead foal, and beyond that I know no more of her. But in 1896 doping was in its infancy, and it was not until about 1900 that it really began to be a serious menace to horse-racing. Even then, although there were mysterious hints of its wonderful effect, few people knew much about it, or really believed in it. After 1900, this horrible practice increased rapidly, and by 1903 it had become a scandal. I myself was still sceptical about any dope making a bad horse into a good one. But very strange things occurred, and one constantly saw horses who were notorious rogues running and winning as if they were possessed of the devil, with eyes starting out of their heads and the sweat pouring off them. These horses being mostly platers, and running in low-class races, did not attract a very great deal of attention, but three veterinary surgeons told me that the practice was increasing very much, that it would be the ruin of horse-breeding, and ought to be stopped. Then there occurred a case when a horse, after winning a race, dashed madly into a stone wall and killed itself. I then thought it was about time that something was done, so I told one of the Stewards of the Jockey Club what my three friends, the veterinary surgeons, had said. He was as sceptical as I had been, and declared he did not believe there was anything in it. At that time I had in my stable some of the biggest rogues in training, and I told the Stewards that I intended to dope these horses. They could then see for themselves what the result was.

The first horse I doped was a chestnut gelding called Folkestone. This horse had refused to do anything in a trial or a race. He was always last and would come in neighing. I first of all doped him in a trial. He fairly astonished me, for he jumped off in front and won in a canter. I sent him to Pontefract, where he beat a field of fourteen very easily, and nearly went round the course a second time before his jockey could pull him up. He won a race again the next day, was sold and never won again. I had told my brother, Lord Durham, who was not a Steward of the Jockey Club at that time, what I was doing. So much did he dislike this doping that he was inclined to object to my having anything to do with it. But when I explained that my object was to open the eyes of the Stewards, he withdrew his objection, but begged me not to have a shilling on any horse with a dope in him. To this I agreed.

I obtained six dopes from a well-known veterinary surgeon. They were not injected with a needle, but just given out of a bottle. Their effect on a horse was astonishing. I used five of them, and had four winners and a second. Not one of these horses had shown any form throughout the year. One of them, Ruy Lopez, who had previously entirely defeated the efforts of the best jockeys in England, ran away with the Lincoln Autumn Handicap with a stable boy up, racing like the most honest horse in the world. At the end of that Liverpool Autumn Meeting I had one dope left. I had made no secret of what I had been doing, and Lord Charles Montague asked me to give him one of these dopes. He wanted it for a horse called “Cheers,” winner of the Eclipse Stakes, belonging to the Duke of Devonshire; so I gave him my last one. “Cheers” had run badly all the year. The following week he beat a big field for the Markeaton Plate with the dope in him, including a horse of my own, Andrea Ferrara, who I very much fancied.

That report by Lambton, should have rendered his warning off for life.

Perhaps the warning off of several of Lambton’s chums, instead took place after his Book I hope so, for he seems to have been a very poor judge of character.

With British trainers like Lambton his brother the Jockey Club, big cheese, The Druids Lodge tricksters, plus there 6th man, Bet a Million Gates, taking on the British Betting Ring. causing many Bookmakers to place a notice on there board,
“Bets on Sloan, refused.
I can only wish I had been amongst them, over century ago.

I am afraid that the new maffia of British Horserace gambling is no longer in the hands of the above mentioned, but by a much cleverer Jockey Club, who learned since 2012 what they should have learned in 1912.

The Sport of Kings, was always there to dominate.
Sorry but true.

.
Don…

Memory Loss.

November 11th, 2014

Over 70 years, I have loved every minute of my time in the Sport of Kings, my very first wager was similar to the start being made by millions of UK citizens, who gain the bug to gamble.

It started with a Kiss, from my uncle Tommy a WW1 war hero.
Invited to my home my brother and I were given a free £2 bet, no strings attached. my brother unbeknown to me placed £1 on the big race that day The Grand National. and put the other £1 in his money box a Golly with a hand that transported any thing placed in the palm, into a very wide mouth.

Tommy laughed out loud “you will never starve my son”
Being three years younger I gave Tom, the £2 back and named my selection for the Grand National.

After dinner my mother and a few of her friends, including my brother, and Tommy settled down to listen to the big race.

Even before the race started I was exited, my brother disappeared into his bed room to continue making aeroplanes from balsa wood that he hung in the bedroom ceiling.

for over 10 minutes I was mesmerized by the commentary as a nine year old, anything sporting was fantastic for me Boxing Football and now racing.
The weather had been atrocious with no racing from mid January even the Cheltenham festival my fathers special week had to be put back.to April.
With 57 runners I treated the venture like you do a lottery today, fortunately there was no Pins in our house, there had to be some sort of logic to any opinion.

Cheltenham was always a great day almost as good as Xmas, my father one of the top tick-taks in the country, would come home with a bag of coins. that he would give to us to first count and then divide equally.

This year with Cheltenham not on until April. the little gamble that my father forbid, for us children seemed more exiting.than ever.

As I looked at the newspaper to make my selection the wise old owl. Uncle Tom, gave me advice to pick a big one meaning the price I assumed not the size of the animal. with over 26 of the runners in the 100/1 bracket, I decided that was greedy.

At first I chose Prince Regent the clear favourite, for I had remembered my father discussing how great the Irish champion was.

“Not with 12 stone 7. Donald. he has no chance.pick again.

This time my eyes noticed a horse called Lough Conn. for some reason it took my eye,
What weight does that one carry Uncle .?.
“10 stone 1.” that will do £2 on Lough Conn.

Eachway or win..

WIN, Please.
You can have 25/1 Son a little extra.

The noise from the commentary seemed to be spoilt for the lack of any information, the visability was shocking according the the commentary team.

before the leaders were mentioned the commentator seemed more interested in giving those that had already fallen, over 8. in total.
As they approached the 6th fence Bechers Brook. there had not been a leader,s name mentioned the fog must have been that bad,
all of a suden the race came to life..
“The leader is Loch Conn”,
I almost choked on a Toffee Apple I was eating.

That.s my horse Uncle

Laughing he informed that there was a further 24 fences to take.

“Over the water jump its still Loch Conn leading the field as they go out for the 2nd Circuit.”

.”Over Bechers for the 2nd time the leader has gone clear. from Caughoo.
Here they come out of the mist its.”
There was a pause, that seemed like ages.

“Its Caughoo well clear.”

I looked at my Uncle and he looked at the floor it was as if he was saddened by my tears, that had started to flow. I alsways winder how I became such a bad loser.

“That is not fare” I hadn’t calculated my winnings, and wasn’t upset that I had lost my £2.

“Never mind son, you can have another go next year.”

A week later I was in the Prince of York a public house in Birmingham with my family and a bunch of Dads fiends, the conversation came round to the National. my father always a prankster, winked at the group without me knowing and began a debate about how Caughoo the winner had duped the stewards by falling first time round and by the time Dempsey the jockey had caught him, and remounted, he was in 2nd place 20 lengths behind the race leader. my selection Lough Conn.

I didst say a word I had been brought up never to speak out of tern.

One of the group who had been at Liverpool for the National, betting between the last two jumps was adamant that McCann the rider of my selection, was calling to the leader.

“You F***** Cheat, you have got to go round again..#In fact as they arrived in the winners enclosure there were fisticuffs, followed by a legal action.

History shows that nothing sinister took place but it was the turning point in my gambling carrier,

If I could help it I only ever bet after I knew the result.
By 1957 I was the security manager for the family firm. if I was to be cheated again I would make it that the winner would require more than just Fog.

Don

A Load of P.Blinders.

October 22nd, 2014

History is made up of tales created by writers who lived at the time in question.
Years after we have to come to a conclusion as to what we believe or what conclusion we have come to ourselves, we owe it to those interested, on the subject to handle the truth with care.
The more people read about a subject it can become enshrined into the mind of those around today. if the topic is untruthful that is a shame.

Take for instance, the subject that I was born into one that I love dearly.

During the last 40 years I have gained enjoyment reading comments, from many years ago not even though it has not always been the truth, over the last few years I have come to a different conclusion and that is that when ever possible the truth should prevail.

Take the Tipperary Tim National. were so called great writer, makes the most alarming mistake claiming that Billy Barton was a distance clear when he fell leaving the Irish Tubed plater, to come home alone. I except that the winner was not in the same class in equine terms, as the American Champion, but after all the race was a handicap. and the winner did clear the 30 fences, faster than any other of the runners. so I do not respect the statement, (The Winner returned to the obscurity that he had arrived)

What my problem is that when a respected writer makes statements, that are not challenged, then in the mind of he reader, it becomes fact. then passed on to there friends and colleges, who believe them without question.

A further point, is the Derby known as the Sufferget Derby.of 1913 were Miss Davison, waits at the Tattenham Corner before jumping in front of the Kings Horse, deliberately. this is laughable in the extrema.

To read the waffle about the topic is nothing but stupid. and proves my point that in years to come it will become factual that the Scottish Lassie cleverly planned the actual collision with the Kings horse for maximum publicity. removing the truth that it was by pure chance.

In some cases we can forgive the readers, gullibility if we move forward to the Foinavon National.
were millions of British if not global fans of the race, claim that Honey End was the races unluckiest loser in the great races history.

Sorry to say, that if he had won the event instead of being 2nd he would have gone down in history as the luckiest winner ever.
But how can the two opinions be compatible.?

Simple fact when Popham Down reached the 23rd fence, Honey End was a distance behind, having made a drastic mistake early on in the race, in fact Honey End would have most certainly been pulled up before long.

Before any one asks me what is the point I am raising.?

I will explain that I dislike moments when Fact and Fiction collide. without the reader being informed that the tale is in deed fiction.

Take the TV programs of Mr Selfridge and The Peekey Blinders, the writers have found themselves in a dilemma, they require a story line that the pubic will enjoy, truth or fiction it matters not.

Mr Selfridge can be forgiven when having to be a stud at the age of 70. perhaps some pill called Mr.S. will be launched after the next series. I cant wait for the final Series evolves with Harry, skint living with a daughter, in a Fulham flat no mention that the daughter was a Russian Princess,

It will I guarantee show Mr-Selfridge in cloths that even a 2nd class Charity shop would refuse “Thank You”.

10 years before his death there is a picture of Harry at Liverpool for the National. dressed like only Harry could . immaculate;ate Scottish brogue, fur lined collar, a diamond stud in his tie pin. at least 5 carrot, and the most beautiful Italian boots,

Unless the great shop keeper, had thrown all his old cloths away, the final story line of him standing outside his great store and being moved on by a policeman, for being a vagrant. it just don’t add up and is just pure fiction. I would love to know what the great man was berried in.

What abut Peaky Blinders, I am entitled to an opinion on the matter, after all my grand mother and her son Philip senior my Dad, were living at Cooksey Road Small Heath, a hop skip and jump from the Garrison Arms, 1909 to 1925 my father was the horse-racing games great Tick Taks, with every leading Bookmaker a client.

I do believe that there were a few young villains, about Small Heath, during the last years of the 20th century, but no different than in many towns in Britian at the time, but I can find no reference to them being anything more than Bicycle thieves, wife beaters, or a violent youth subculture.

The jump to after WW1, and 1920s and we see a family of Irish Gypsy Emigrants, taking over the Racing Game, right under the noes of the London’s Flying Squad. or are about to.

What I cannot quite understand, is the fact that Billy Kimber the leader, of all things Bookmaking at the time, was seen as a Rolls Royce owner living in a Cheltenham Mansion seen as a loud-mouthed, flashy dresser, when in fact Mr Kimber was a gent, to all other than his first wife, although he was no wife beater,
My father and mother took me and my brother Phillip junior to Worcester in the late 1940s Mr Kimber I have been informed gave me a Tosheroon, (2/6) causing a great deal of disquiet in the household when we returned home. when it was found that my Brother (Three years older) had missed out.
As for Mr Sabini (Derby) I remember seeing him at Epsom one day, and he was certainly not as smart and dapper as he appeared in Thursdays program.as for the final act of series one,

There is a stand to in Small Heath all lined up with more heavy armoury than they had over the road at the BSA. It is clear to all that Bill Kimber who never carried a gun, until he arrived in the States. but I will guarantee that Bill is still alive and kicking during the final series.

When my father joined a Bookmakers firm, called Ernest Fletcher, (No relation of Mike) in 1928
Tom the pitch holder was a WW1 Hero. winning a George Cross and equivalent medal in France.

Tommy Shelby has claimed similar hero status and who am I to discredit that fact. all I can say is that when the Jockey Club, and Government were prepared to close down racecourses were the type of criminality was taking place, it was inevitable that all racecourse Bookmakers cleaned up there act.
The formation of a trade association, firstly the Bookmakers and Punters Association soon lost the Punters, however what should be understood is that there was no trouble in the main rings, Tattersals and the Rails. have never been part of Gang Warfare,

One thing that all the leaders of the Bookmakers had in common north south east and west, was they had all the important authority in there back pocket,

Kimber, Emanual, Derby Sibini and Whites, were all bunging, of that there is no doubt. Although I respect our very own Historian Mr Carl Chinn, very few know more about the subject, than this true Brummie, on the other hand Mr McDonald’s Gangs of London, is a must for fans of the game. but they were not there at the time, so they are pure and simple Historians.

If I may I hope that the Peeky writers some how dig Billy Kimber up from whence he has been interned, for without him the true story will; be lost for ever and in years to come, people interested will think that a nasty little Yid called Soloman was anything more than a school bully with a gun.

And that Derby Sabini was a Clark Gamble look a like. which he certainly wasn’t. in fact if Paddy Power had created a Bookm on the best dressed on racecourses during the period.

Bill Kimber would have been odds on Soloman and Derby 33/1.

I doubt the real Racing Don, will get a mention in the Peaky tale as The South is concerned the King financing all activity, south of Watford was Emanuel. just because there is no photo of him douse not detract from the fact that he was the Man.No 1.

I will carry on watching with interest, the forthcoming Battles, but remember all of the Midland Lists,
used by the Midland Bookmakers and District Association (Jenny Govier) were given to me after computer records commenced, these list’s date back to early 1900s, and having looked through them religiously I see no reference to any Shelby.
As for Kimber I do not know of his trip to USA, so I will leave that period to Gangs of London.
I do know what happened to Billy down the west country under the guide of Brillcream Harry, and all point to point racing down west.

I will watch with interest,

.
Don