A Mirror of the Turf; Or, The Machinery of Horse-Racing Revealed, Showing the Sport of Kings as It Is To-Day

by James Glass Bertram

FREDERICK SWINDELL.

Had Mr. F. Swindell chosen to take pen in hand in order to narrate his experiences of racing, and to indite notices of the turf men with whom he had business or other relations, he might have produced a book of more than ordinary interest. Although six years have elapsed since the death of this "Napoleon of the turf," as he was called by some of his admirers, his memory is kept green in racing circles by frequent references to his achievements in connection with many of the turf transactions of his day. As Mr. Swindell had moved in sporting circles for a period of half a century, evidence of his sayings and doings is by no means scarce. In his time he had a finger in many pies, and as he left personal estate at the date of his death to the value of over £140,000, it may be taken for granted that the transactions he managed or took part in were somewhat profitable.

In his earlier days Mr. Swindell, as he used often enough to tell in his own racy way and in good honest "Lancashire lingo," experienced a good deal of rough weather. "It's a pretty bad case, lad, when thou wants a shilling and doesn't know where to look for it." Frederick Swindell was born in the town of Derby, and learned his father's craft of bell-hanging, by which he made a living for some time in Manchester, in which city he speedily acquired a taste for cock-fighting and other sports, particularly horse-racing, by which in after years he was destined to court fortune both as bookmaker and commissioner, and also as an owner of horses on his own account. It was chiefly in his early Manchester days that he came "through the hard," as he designated his then condition, and felt the lack of money so much; like many other turf adventurers in their beginning, he was poor one day and rich another; "just as luck fell, lad." On one occasion he became bankrupt over a cock-fight at Liverpool—so impoverished, in fact, as to be left without a coin to pay for either supper or bed, and with the certainty that no breakfast would await him in the morning; but next day he was rolling in what, in the circumstances, may be called riches. Having previously backed a horse to win him a hundred pounds—the animal was Charles XII., which, in winning the Liverpool Cup, won for Swindell the amount named—he enjoyed his first taste of fortune in what he then "thowt big money." A different fate befell him on one occasion at Newcastle-on-Tyne while looking on the race for the Northumberland Plate. For that race he had made two wrong moves which told heavily against his pocket; he laid to lose a good "bit of brass" over the horse that won, thinking it a "stiff one," and also backed one that, as it appeared in the sequel, had no pretensions to win; "and lads," he used to say, in telling the story, "a fellow that was on the winning nag and were standing at my back, smashed in my hat. Oh, it were cruel, but that chap had backed the winner."

In time, after experiencing many of the bitters, and also a few of the sweets that are incidental to the "great game," Swindell resolved to make London his place of residence; and having experienced a run of luck at one or two meetings, found himself in possession of as much money as enabled him to begin business as landlord of a West End public-house. It was situated near Mount Street, Grosvenor Square, and was a favourite resort of the gentlemen's servants of that aristocratic district of London. The business flourished exceedingly. Many of those who frequented the house were men endowed with sporting tastes, and most of them keen bettors. Swindell laid liberal odds to his customers, and as a few of them were in the service of gentlemen who owned a horse or two, the landlord not infrequently, by carefully noting the investments of these men, was able to do a remunerative stroke of business on his own account. On the occasion of the visit of a celebrated owner of blood stock to Newmarket to witness a trial for an important event, Swindell came to know the result from that gentleman's butler, who obtained particulars of the trial from the lady's-maid, who had read the letter sent to the gentleman's wife, giving full details of what the horse had accomplished.

Many similar circumstances occurred from time to time. The information just referred to was the means of Swindell adding nearly a thousand pounds to his bank account; the butler also made a satisfactory amount, while the lady's-maid was rewarded by having presented to her a valuable diamond and emerald ring. The reputation acquired by Swindell as a prompt payer speedily gained him the patronage of some of the West End betting tradesmen, and in time of the gentlemen whose servants he had hitherto done business with. Accurate accounts and punctual settlements helped to increase business, so that the bookmaker obtained permission to call at some of the clubs in order to do a little betting with "the swells," and to several of these gentlemen Swindell never hesitated to reveal any really good thing he knew; but not, of course, till he had served himself. This practice gained him many friends, and was the means of greatly improving his business by increasing his connection, one gentleman recommending him to another, and all who did business with him were pleased with his quiet, staid, respectful, but never servile manner. Mr. Swindell knew his place and kept it, which some of his contemporaries and many of his successors failed in doing.

With increasing experience of racing matters, and having a clear head, and being of sober habits, Mr. Swindell was not long in finding his services in demand as an adviser in some of the momentous turf affairs of the time. Crockford, with whom at times he used when he was making a book to cover his liabilities in the case of horses that he had overlaid, or backed one or two that he thought likely to win, gave him a word or two of recommendation, which resulted in his being occasionally employed to execute commissions on behalf of owners of horses who for good reasons did not wish to appear as backers of their own animals. Among the many who ultimately took him into their confidence were Mr. Merry, of Thormanby and Doncaster celebrity, and Sir Joseph Hawley. Success usually rewarded the efforts of Mr. Swindell when he undertook to carry through the kind of work which has been indicated. Having a very large connection among bookmakers, he was enabled to work the commissions he was entrusted with to the best advantage, and when the time came that those laying the odds became alarmed at being "had," he was able to obtain a choice of men to work for him, so that he could remain in the background and pull the strings quite as effectively as if he were acting openly in his own person.

This is how he "worked the oracle" when he was entrusted by an owner with a big job in the handicap line—and that was the line he liked best, as it was in that description of race there was most room to do such an amount of business as would result in the winning of a large sum of money. As soon as he knew the name of the horse and the race for which it was to be backed, he would enter into consultation with one or other of his bookmaking acquaintances in order to devise a plan of campaign. The arrangement usually made was that the more responsible country bookmakers, i.e., those in the larger provincial towns and cities, should be communicated with, and be asked to lay the odds against "so and so" to a specific amount and at a given price, or no limit might be given in the matter of price; but a particular hour was generally named at which the commission was desired to be executed by the bookmaker or other appointed agent, so that all the money required was usually obtained by this plan of doing the work. In the course of a day it would become known that a very heavy commission had been worked on behalf of "so and so," for the "such and such" handicap, and in consequence the odds against that horse would be quoted at a rapidly lessening figure, much to the chagrin of those who had laid the larger or longer rates of odds, and who, awakening to what had happened, were desirous themselves of backing the horse so as to lessen the sum they would require to pay in the event of its winning the race it had been backed for. Persons who are employed to do commissions get, as a matter of course, to know "the strength of them," and if they fancy the horse has a good chance they help themselves pretty liberally to a share of the money at the highest rate of odds.

Fortune seemed on occasion to play into the hands of Mr. Swindell as if no one else deserved a turn. He was the first to learn from Sir Joseph Hawley that Beadsman would be his best horse for the Derby, that colt having beaten Fitzroland, who had become a prime favourite for the Blue Ribbon from having won the Two Thousand Guineas. "Put me £1,000 on Beadsman at the best odds you can obtain," said Sir Joseph, and Swindell was able the next day to tell the lucky baronet that he had obtained £18,000 to the stake authorised. "All right," was the reply; "now help yourself, it is a good thing." And so it proved, as Beadsman, beating twenty-two competitors, won the Derby of 1858, and that horse was the sire of Blue Gown, which ten years later placed another big stake to the credit of the noble baronet.

The turf transaction which gave Mr. Swindell his first good "lift" as a manager of racing events was his manipulation of Chanticleer, a horse that won the Goodwood Stakes in 1848, a race on which there was at one period a great deal of betting. That being so, a heavy commission was executed at the request of Mr. Merry, and so much was the horse's chance esteemed both by owner and commissioner, despite the heavy weight he had to carry, that still more money was put on his chance; but in spite of the well-known fact that Mr. Merry had backed Chanticleer to win a big sum, his price in the market never "shortened," which being contrary to the usual state of affairs, caused Mr. Swindell a great deal of uneasiness. After thinking the matter over for a few days, he came to the conclusion that the jockey who had been engaged to ride the horse had been tampered with, and having stated the grounds of his suspicion to Mr. Merry, that gentleman assented to the changing of the jockey at the last minute. Then it became patent, from the frantic efforts of certain bookmakers to back the horse, that the suspicions of the commissioner were well founded, for ridden by C. Marlow, who had been quietly engaged by Swindell, Chanticleer won the race as had been expected by those interested he would do.

When, at the ripe old age of seventy-four years, Mr. Swindell died, worth, as was carefully chronicled at the time, £146,057, there began to percolate through the columns of the sporting journals a series of anecdotes illustrative of his career. But these cannot be drawn upon here; in fact, many of the circumstances attending his work are embodied in the foregoing slight narrative.

Although on the whole fortunate in his speculations, Mr. Swindell received, as he himself was wont to tell, "many a facer"; and had the misfortune oftener than once to see a good thing that would have been worth thousands to him vanish just as he was about to realise it. He took such reverses with his wonted equanimity, having the comfort of knowing that his bank account was still in a good condition, and no one could determine from his manner how he was affected; Swindell was not in the habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve.

One of the many stories that went the round was the following: "Mr. J. M. Stanley had arranged with Swindell to back Porto Rica for the Two Thousand Guineas, supposing that horse's trial proved satisfactory. Wright, at that time a well-known betting agent, used to publish a little book of forthcoming events. Swindell was on a racecourse when he received a telegram instructing him to back a certain number in Wright's guide for the Guineas. He looked at the little book, but mistook his instructions, thinking they were intended for Lord Stanley's colt by Orlando-Canezou. The two colts, one belonging to Lord Stanley, and the other to Mr. J. M. Stanley, were entered one after the other in Wright's book, and Swindell mistaking one for the other, sent his commissioner to back Lord Stanley's horse. Now this colt was a dark one, had not been mentioned in the betting quotations, and had never yet run in public. With a puzzled expression on his face, the commissioner came back to Swindell, and inquired if any mistake had been made, as the bookmakers seemed over-anxious to lay against the Canezou colt. Master Frederick, on again consulting Wright's book, at once saw he had made an error; but the mischief being done, could not be undone, and the confederates agreed to share the loss between them. They had got on about £500 at the respectable odds of 25 and 30 to 1. Shortly after this apparently dismal blunder, Lord Stanley's colt won a first-rate trial, and eventually, when named Fazzoletto, proved victorious in the race; so that Swindell and Robinson had the satisfaction of putting several thousands of pounds in their pockets through backing a horse by mistake."

Other anecdotes of a like kind have, as has been said, gone the round of the press, in one or other of the numerous sketches written about Mr. Swindell after his death, most of which were of the most laudatory kind.