III.
It is no part of the writer's intention to describe the economy of a training stable; but the business of a trainer of race-horses is one which is fraught with anxiety; a sudden change of the atmosphere may ruin his prospects of winning an important race, or a horse ridden at exercise by a careless boy may be brought back to the stable so lame that it can hardly ever again be depended on to run. The modern trainer is usually a man of some education and intelligence, a contrast to his predecessor of sixty years since, who was simply a groom and little more; he knows the anatomy and constitution of the horses placed under his care, and is familiar with them in health and disease. He has also to administer his establishment with care and economy, and has to keep up the discipline of his place; he may be the master probably of thirty or forty lads, whom it is not easy to keep in order.
A trainer who may, in the course of the winter, find he has the favourite for the Derby, or some other great race, in his stable, passes an anxious time, more especially when those who own the animal are addicted to heavy betting, and "the horse has been backed to win a fortune" in bets. To keep a horse in health demands the unceasing attention of its trainer and his servants: to see that its food and drink are of the best quality, that its gallops are properly regulated, that it is carefully housed, and that no improper person obtains access to it, are duties that must be performed with unceasing watchfulness. Sometimes, though a trainer be ever so lynx-eyed and careful, he will be baffled, and will awake to the sad consciousness, some fine morning about the time fixed for a race, that the horse has been "got at" by some interested party, and rendered useless for the coming event.
Derby favourites have occasionally been "nobbled," no one being able at the time to say how. The blacksmith may have pricked it in shoeing, its water may have been poisoned, some deleterious substance may have been given to it in its daily food, it may have injured its leg in some trap set for it on the racing ground, or its stable attendant may have been bribed to injure it, or a dozen other plans of a like kind may have been devised to place the high-mettled steed hors de combat. Day and night the trainer requires to be on the watch: in day-time his eye must be on the training ground watching the boys, and many a sleepless night must he pass in feverish anxiety as to the fate of the favourite, for of such is the business of horse-racing.
Owners and trainers of race-horses occasionally have fortune in their grasp without knowing it; in other words, they may possess an animal capable of winning a Derby, and yet be ignorant of the fact. Horses upon which, at first, very little store may be set, frequently prove of great value, able to win important stakes, and afterwards bring large sums of money for use at the stud. To be in a position to inform his employer how best to "place" his horses, forms one of the chief merits of a trainer. It is useless to enter slow, plodding horse to take part in a short-distance race where speed is the chief quality required, nor on the other hand is it worth while to enter a horse suitable to a five-furlong course, in the Great Metropolitan or Cesarewitch Handicaps, which can only be won by horses of staying powers.
There are a few owners and trainers of race-horses who possess the happy knack of so placing them, that they win the majority of the races for which they are entered. The Swan, I remember, was a horse which was always so happily placed that it won a large number of races for its owner, Mr. John Martin; other race-horses of greater celebrity, such as Lilian, might be mentioned as having been equally useful during their career on the turf. A gentleman possessing a stud of perhaps half-a-dozen or eight animals will frequently have a larger winning account at the end of the year than an owner of perhaps three times the number, just because he knows better what to do with them, or how to "place" them, so that he may, by winning a few races, earn their keep and pay for the entries made on their behalf. To be able to do so—to "place" one's horses, so that each may be able to win a couple of races in the course of the season—implies a good knowledge of the business of racing. Men with big studs usually strive to win the larger stakes, but as these stakes are fewer in number and have more numerous competitors, so their chances of success are proportionately lessened; but when a Cesarewitch, Cambridgeshire, or Manchester Autumn Cup is won, the money gained even in stakes is worth adding to the owner's bank account.
As has been stated, no race-meeting takes place by accident; for the so-called "classic races," the entries—an important feature of racing business—have to be made while the animals are yearlings. In numerous contests, the horses appointed to compete must be named long before the time advertised for bringing off the meeting, so that both owners and trainers require to keep their eyes open and have their wits about them to be able to do the right work at the right time. In several important training stables, there is so much correspondence to be got through, and so much book-keeping to be done, so many accounts to check and settle, as to render it necessary that the trainer should keep a clerk or secretary, an office filled in some cases by a member of the trainer's own family, perhaps his wife, or a daughter. It would never answer to allow a stranger to become familiar with the secrets of the prison-house.
It will be gathered from the foregoing summary, brief as it may be thought, that horse-racing to those engaged in it is somewhat of a serious pastime. "It takes a bit out of a jockey" to ride two or three races per diem, whilst trainers as a meeting progresses have much to do; owners also, with "thousands" invested in entry moneys and bets, have anxious moments to endure. In short, without devoted, never-ceasing attention to the business incidental to the turf, horse-racing as a pastime for the people would speedily come to an end.