JOCKEYS.
In Newmarket and other racing stables there are a very large number of boys employed—one for each horse—most of whom are apprenticed while very young to the trainers, to be taught the business of a groom. Only a small number of these boys develop, however, into passable jockeys, and fewer still into what may be termed great horsemen. Many of the lads grow so rapidly that they soon become useless in the racing saddle. Every now and again, however, a lad of merit and mettle emerges from the crowd of his fellows and earns a reputation as a consummate horseman; but as there are more than a thousand stable-boys, and only, perhaps, some twenty jockeys of repute, it is obvious that the prizes, as in other professions, are few, and the blanks many. These stable-lads are taught their business with much care, and in every respect are well looked after. They are taken to church every Sunday, and in some training establishments there is Sabbath school and other teaching as well. One trainer, a remarkable man in his calling, not satisfied with two visits to church for his lads, invariably read to them at night one of Blair's sermons. If one of the boys was so unlucky as to fall asleep, he was at once brought to a sense of his iniquity by a touch or two from a long whip, which his master kept beside him ready for use.
Discipline must be observed in a racing stable, but, as a rule, the lads are humanely treated, corporal punishment not being resorted to now, as it used to be in the days of old. As an illustration of jockey life half a century ago, it may be mentioned that a Yorkshire trainer, named Smith, was invariably severe with his lads, but "was cruel only to be kind." When administering a round of the cane, he used to utter a kind of apology. His usual homily to his victim was: "Thou'lt come to me in ten years' time, my lad, and thank me on thy knees for saving thee from the gallows." The race of old physical force trainers is nearly extinct, and their successors of to-day are generally well-educated men, learned in the character and structure of the animal they train. At many of the racing stables the wives of the trainers take a warm interest in the morals of the boys, and look after them with motherly regard. On some training grounds no work is done on Sundays, on that day the horses are merely exercised.
In course of time, one of the many lads engaged in the stables shows himself to be of the stuff of which successful jockeys are made, and that being so, makes his way to the front, and after a few trials finds himself elevated to the proud position of premier horseman, with every prospect, if he be careful of his earnings, of making, in the course of a few years, a splendid fortune. But he must "keep his head" and not forget himself, as many a jockey before him has done. "The evolution of the jockey" has, in one instance, been described by "Borderer," a well-known contributor to the literature of the turf.
It was "Borderer's" lot to see a little dark-eyed boy amongst a lot riding at exercise for an Epsom trainer some thirty years ago, and to ask the trainer about him.
"Yes, sir," replied the trainer, "that little chap has not been with me long; he is the son of a man who drives a mail-cart about London for the General Post Office. He gets kicked off twice a week, but is a nice boy."
"Let him ride in that trial to-morrow," replied I, "that we are arranging to have."
"He's hardly strong enough, sir; he only scales 4 st. 7 lb. That boy next him is much better."
Like a wilful fellow, however, "Borderer" would have his way, and the little dark-eyed boy, that looked as keen as a hawk, rode in and won the trial cleverly. "From this circumstance began my acquaintance with Constable, the jockey, for he was no other than my dark-eyed protégé. For me he won his first races, and in his earlier years I taught him to have money in the Savings Bank, and he seldom failed to come to me for advice, some of which, I trust, was for his good. A straighter lad than Constable never strode a horse. He promised me when he was free from his articles not to ride for a bookmaker and never to pull a horse, and I believe he religiously kept his promises. It sounds egotistical to tell these stories, where the author is himself concerned, but my readers will, I hope, forgive me. Pope is not far from the mark when he says, 'Just as the twig is bent the tree inclineth,' and so it is with jockeys as with other mortals."
The chief jockey is petted like a prima donna, and made a companion by sporting lords. His movements are chronicled as carefully as those of a Prince of the Royal blood. His cartes-de-visite are in constant demand. He is surrounded by a host of parasites; his "mounts" are backed till they are quoted at the shortest odds; his opinion of the animal he rides is anxiously asked for by owner and trainer; while the ragged regiment of gamblers who pin their faith to his horse are pleased with a smile even from his valet. Sporting journals publish his portrait, and garnish their columns with criticisms of his riding and anecdotes of his career; his bon-mots are circulated as good things, and his clothes are imitated by the vulgar. Moreover, he earns a larger income than a Prime Minister, his services being intrigued and paid for with a power of diplomacy and at a rate of remuneration only known "on the turf."
To readers not versed in the ways of racing it may be explained that when a jockey is so fortunate as to win a race he receives a fee of five guineas, but when not successful in achieving the first place he receives only three guineas. He is paid two guineas for riding in trials on occasions when it is desirable to ascertain the power of some horse to win a particular race. A few jockeys, seldom heard of as winners of races, earn a considerable amount of money by riding in trials. Payment for trials is sometimes, however, included in the retainer a jockey gets from his master. Jockeys of celebrity are often retained by noblemen and gentlemen specially to ride their horses in preference to those of other competitors, for which they receive a handsome wage or retaining fee in addition to the usual payments for their services in the saddle, win or lose. They may thus be engaged by several masters during the same season, having first, second, and third calls, according to priority of engagement; so that a retained jockey has not the power to ride for casual fees, unless when his services are not required by one or other of his regular employers, and it rarely happens that one or other of a jockey's masters has not a horse for him to ride in all the classic races.
Pre-engagements, then, although remunerative, are not always advantageous. A jockey who might have ridden a Derby winner has often been compelled to mount in that race, in the vain hope of victory, an inferior horse, because of having to obey the call of one or other of those who had retained his services.
The fees earned by a successful jockey, speaking roundly, form the least portion of his income, as the presents given him by owners of horses and numerous "admirers," in the shape of bettors who have backed his mounts, are frequent and valuable. Gold watches, diamond rings, and breast-pins set with rubies; riding horses, dog-carts, and yachts; as well as suits of clothes, new hats, boxes of cigars, and cases of champagne, fall to the lot of fortunate jockeys who win important races. A noted professional horseman a few years ago received, it was said, in two seasons as many boxes of cigars as would have stocked a modest shop. The same lad was also presented, in the course of his career, with seven gold watches (he always used a silver one) and seven finger-rings set with diamonds, as well as with other valuable jewels. Money gifts to successful jockeys are now, however, the order of the day, and that such gifts are often of great magnitude there is abundant evidence to show. It is well known, for instance, in turf circles that the jockey who rode Roseberry, the winner of the Cesarewitch at Newmarket, was presented by the owner of that horse with a cheque for £1,000; a similar sum being given to the jockey who rode the winner of the Cambridgeshire, also won by Roseberry. Such sums, large as they undoubtedly are, extravagant as they may indeed appear in the eyes of non-racing people, have been more than once bestowed for work well done on the racecourse. So far back as the year 1824, Benjamin Smith was presented with a testimonial of nearly £1,000, subscribed for by a number of persons, on the occasion of his admirable riding of Jerry in the great St. Leger Stakes at Doncaster. The jockey who rode the winner of a sensational Derby was presented by the owner of the winning horse, Hermit, with a sum of £3,000. Another gentleman gave him what in racing parlance is called a "monkey," which is £500; whilst a present of £100 was bestowed by a third person. Numerous offerings of lesser value, as also some gifts of jewellery, were likewise sent to the hero of the race, who is said to have netted over £4,000 by his exertions on that one occasion, which is about double the sum paid to Sir Walter Scott for writing his celebrated poem, "The Lady of the Lake."
These princely gifts, as they may be called, contrast with those modest presents which were given to jockeys by their masters and patrons at an earlier time. After John Day, who was one of the chief jockeys of his time, had in one week achieved victory in two of the classic races for his master, the Duke of Grafton, his grace sent for him and said: "John Day, I am going to make you a present for the manner in which you have ridden my horses this week; I am about to give you £20 in bank-notes of Messrs. ——'s bank at Bury St. Edmund's, most highly respectable bankers." That sum was considered a handsome present in those days, when a successful jockey, if a married man, was generally rewarded with a side of bacon, a cheese, a bag of potatoes, or a barrel of home-brewed ale, in addition to his wages, for at the time indicated horse-riders were grooms rather than jockeys. Persons who "back," as it is called in racing argot, successful horses to win them large sums of money, are generally, in the exultation of the moment, very open-handed, and think it right to give a winning jockey a ten or twenty pound note, or even a larger sum, according to the scale of their luck. Upon a recent occasion, bank-notes of the value of £500 were anonymously sent to a jockey at Newmarket who won a race on a horse the victory of which at the time was most unexpected. The animal in question, during the winter preceding the race, had been made favourite, but latterly—that is, before the day fixed for the decision of the contest—the horse was represented to be out of condition and not likely to prove successful; but the horse came to the post, started for, and won the race. The money given to the jockey by the gentleman was most likely a thank-offering for a windfall. Many a jockey has received in the same way an unexpected douceur, although not perhaps of so large a sum. Single sovereigns are often presented to jockeys by small gamblers. It is related of a successful light-weight jockey, well known on the turf a few years ago, but who, alas, poor lad, now lies under it, that he accumulated in a money-box, during one season, all the single sovereigns which he received as presents from gratified although humble patrons, and presented them to his sister, the sum so given amounting to a little over £300. Occasionally a jockey is presented with the horse he has ridden when it proves unsuccessful, and in some instances the animal has afterwards proved to be more valuable than was supposed when given away.
The policy of paying large sums to jockeys has frequently been discussed, and those in the habit of giving valuable gifts in money have been well abused for inconsiderate liberality. The interests at stake, however, since the horse became the instrument of gambling it now is, are so gigantic as to render it imperative that jockeys be placed beyond temptation. The total value of the stakes which were contested during last year (1890) amounted to considerably over £446,000, not to speak of the sums dependent on wagers, which were probably ten times that amount. Whether, therefore, in the face of such risks, £1,000 is too little, or too much, or just the right sum to be given with a view to secure a rider's honesty, who shall determine if not the man who is the proprietor of the animal, and who has very probably backed his horse to win him twenty or thirty thousand pounds? It may appear to many an exaggeration that such amounts are made to stand the hazard of a race, but it is nevertheless true. Race-horses are frequently "backed" to win sums of from £1,000 to £100,000. The horse called Hermit, which was victorious in the sensational Derby already referred to, won for his owner £100,000; and the same sum was "landed"—the reader must excuse the slang—when Lecturer won the Cesarewitch in the year 1866. In important handicaps it is possible to back each of twelve of the horses entered to win from twenty to fifty thousand pounds.
The L. S. D. of modern jockeyship can be expiscated by taking a glance at the number of mounts obtained by three or four of the leading horsemen engaged during the racing season of 1890. In that year the chief jockey earned by his public riding alone the handsome amount of 2,271 gs.; the horseman who was second, earned 1,877 gs.; whilst there fell to the lot of number three in merit (or in success), 1,317 gs. These sums represent only the bare riding fees—there would in addition in each case be "retainers" two or three deep, as also presents in plenty, so that the gross amount stated, 5,465 gs., would in all probability be more than trebled in the course of the season. "I don't value my fees so very much, although they ain't to be despised," said, two years ago, a well-employed jockey, "it's the retainers I get and the presents sent to me that bring up my income to the mark I like." Said another jockey: "My riding fees alone amount to a thousand a year, and I am satisfied; I earn a hundred or two by riding in trials as well, and I pick up an occasional pony by buying hunters for gentlemen who employ me to do so. A few presents also come my way; one foolish gentleman who won £3,000 over a mount of mine sent quite a lot of jewels to my wife and children."
With reference to the remuneration of jockeys there is this much to be said—they must make hay whilst the sun shines; youth very soon fades into old age, and gifts of horsemanship suitable for light-weight riding are not continued to jockeys for ever. Out of the hundreds of boys who annually join the racing stables, perhaps not ten will have sufficient nerve and ability combined to ride successfully in one of the great races of the season, even after they have undergone a lengthened novitiate. At the present time there are not more than twenty jockeys who have a claim to be considered first rate in their calling.
So far as income is concerned, even a fourth-rate jockey may be a gentleman; he may at any rate earn a thousand a year. The expert horsemen of the period enjoy a total immunity from all the coarser labour of the stable. The fashionable, or, as he is called in the slang of the turf, the "crack" jockey, as soon as his indentures have expired, requires only to ride his appointed horse; he has no grooming to do; he keeps a valet to assist him in changing his dress and to look after his "traps." He travels from one race meeting to another in a first-class carriage, very probably as the companion of the nobleman or gentleman for whom he is going to ride or has been riding. In the winter season he "will to hounds," and enjoy the pleasures of the chase on his own thoroughbred; or he "will to town," and indulge in the theatre or the opera. When the world was without railways, jockeys required to walk their horses from one race meeting to another; and strings of these animals, accompanied by their grooms, might during the race season be encountered proceeding leisurely along the highways of the country at about the rate of sixteen or twenty miles a day. A celebrated jockey of his time records that his father, a trainer and owner of race-horses in a small way of business, sent him away while almost a child to travel the country with a race-horse, to appear at the different race meetings, enter his horse for those stakes and matches he thought the nag could win, and generally transact such business as was incidental to the situation. "With saddle strapped behind his dapper back" he did as he was bid, and in time became a jockey of renown, ultimately settling down as a trainer himself, in which calling he attained celebrity, training in his day several winners of the Derby and St. Leger.
Another feature of the past may be alluded to. A hundred years ago, the trainers of the race-horses were, as a general rule, the confidential grooms of the gentlemen for whom they acted. Now there are public trainers at Newmarket and elsewhere, who make it their business to take charge of the horses of any number of gentlemen, and train them on terms mutually agreed upon.
There is one feature of jockey life which is likely, in the course of time, to die out—that is, the sweating jockeys had to undergo, and occasionally have still to endure, to be able to ride at a given weight. It is almost impossible for a growing, well-fed lad to keep from "making weight," and even set jockeys, men of mature years, must occasionally work hard to keep themselves down or bring themselves to scale after a winter's indulgence. In the old "wasting" days there were fewer jockeys than there are now, and no railways to admit of a jockey being whirled from Newmarket to Ayr on an hour's notice. At the present time there is a fair choice of jockeys at all weights to select from, so that sweating does not require to be so much resorted to, or, at least, not in the same degree as formerly. In some of the Newmarket stables, and in the Yorkshire and Berkshire stables as well, there may be found about twenty jockeys able to ride with ability at various weights.
Many anecdotes have been printed of the feats which were formerly accomplished by jockeys in order to reduce their weight. These men knew "Banting" long before the celebrated London upholsterer published his pamphlet, but did not systematically practise the art. Thomas Holcroft, the dramatist, author of The Road to Ruin, who was for a short period a jockey-boy at Newmarket, has described the painful process of "wasting" as it was practised in his day, about one hundred and twenty years ago, when the lads used to walk about for hours enveloped in heavy horse-cloths, trying with all their might to fine down their "too, too solid flesh."
Jockeys have told the writer that "wasting" is a severe penance, and requires to be done carefully. On occasions of quick sweating, pains must be taken to prevent illness, as, if the process be too rapidly carried on, fever or death might result. It is known that a jockey, if not careful as to work and diet, will increase from twenty to thirty pounds during the winter season; but, by taking vigorous exercise, "buried in flannel," he can come back to his proper weight in about twenty days. When occasion required it, as when a jockey was anxious to ride a favourite horse, cases have been known where a reduction of half a stone was accomplished within twenty-four hours. It is painful to see some jockeys after they have been engaged in "wasting"; they look as if all their muscular strength had departed, and as if they could only ride in their bones. Daley, the jockey who rode Hermit in the Derby, was cast by nature in the mould of a thirteen-stone man, and to keep himself at 8 st. 10 lb. or bring his weight to that figure when much beyond it must have been an exhausting process. Many a clever jockey has gone to a premature grave from over-exertion in wasting.
Wasting regimen varies according to taste or the constitution of the man. As some of them say, "What is meat and drink to one jockey is poison to another." Frank Butler's usual diet consisted of a pint of champagne and a slice of dry toast after each walk, while after each race he partook of a small portion of gruel in which was mixed a little brandy. A Yorkshire jockey, called Jacques—it is not on record whether or not he was, like Shakespeare's hero, a melancholy man—once reduced his weight no less than seventeen pounds in twenty-four hours. Three times within that period he walked from the grand stand at Newcastle to Gosforth Hall, a distance of three miles, making a tour of eighteen miles in all. Jacques was a famous and artful waster. His diet on the occasion under notice was a little tea with gin mixed in it, which caused him to perspire freely; a dry biscuit and a poached egg served in vinegar was all the food he took in twenty-four hours. Sam Darling, another olden-time jockey, walked on an average about five hundred miles a year in order to keep himself down to racing weight. Some jockeys used long ago to waste by means of hard riding, clad, of course, in heavy woollen garments; others preferred to do their penance in their walks from course to course, thus killing the proverbial two birds with one stone. John Osborne once relieved himself of seven pounds of superfluous flesh in one of these walks. Other horsemen have done the same. Many of the jockeys of sixty years ago were as good pedestrians as equestrians.
"Nimrod" tells us that the old system of wasting was as follows: "With jockeys in high repute it lasted from about three weeks before Easter to the end of October, but a week or ten days are quite sufficient for a rider to reduce himself from his natural weight to sometimes a stone and a half below it. For breakfast they take a small piece of bread and butter with tea in moderation; dinner is taken very sparingly—a very small piece of pudding and less meat; and, when fish is to be obtained, neither the one nor the other is allowed. Wine and water is the usual beverage, in proportion of one pint to two of water. Tea in the afternoon, with little or no bread and butter, and no supper. After breakfast, having sufficiently loaded themselves with clothes, that is, with five or six waistcoats, two coats, and as many pair of breeches, a severe walk is taken, from ten to fifteen miles. After their return home, dry clothes are substituted for those that are wet with perspiration, and, if they are much fatigued, some of them lie down for an hour before dinner, after which no strong exercise is taken.
"From nine at night until six or seven in the morning were the usual hours of sleep. Purgative medicines were resorted to by those who did not like excessive walking, consisting of Glauber salts only. John Arnull once ate nothing but an occasional apple for eight successive days, in order to reduce himself to ride a particular horse for the Prince of Wales. In later days the system was much modified, particularly the length of the walk, and the custom at Newmarket at that time was to go four miles out, where the person sweating had a house to stop at, in which there was a large fire, by which the perspiration was very much increased. Indeed, sometimes it becomes so excessive, that he may be seen scraping it off the uncovered parts of his person, after the manner in which the race-horse is scraped, using a small horn for the purpose. After sitting awhile by the fire and drinking some diluted liquid, he walks back to Newmarket, swinging his arms as he proceeds, which increases the muscular actions. Sufficiently cool to strip, his body is rubbed dry and fresh clothed, when, besides the reduction of weight, the effect is visible in his skin, which has a remarkable transparent hue. The most mortifying attendant on wasting is the rapid accumulation of flesh immediately on a relaxation of the system, it having often happened that jockeys weighing not more than seven stone have gained many pounds in one day from merely obeying the common dictates of nature, committing no excess."
It is essential that all jockeys should be careful about being of the proper weight, or when they are over it, of having the over-weight declared when going to ride, otherwise they would lose the race if they should happen to be first at the winning-post. When the jockey cannot ride at the prescribed weight it is made up by placing slabs of lead on the horse inclosed in woollen pockets. In all races the clerk of the scales requires to be very particular in seeing that jockeys weigh exactly the weight allotted to their horse. The weighing-out of a jockey for his race is a work of nicety: he is placed in the scale along with his saddle, and he must be in the very pink of condition if he can ride a severe long race and afterwards scale the weight he drew before mounting the horse. Trainers and owners have frequently experienced an anxious moment at the weighing-in of their jockey after the race; the bridle has sometimes to be taken off the horse and thrown into the scale before the "all right" of the clerk can be given.
Among the miscellanea appertaining to the subject of jockey life it may be mentioned that noblemen and gentlemen occasionally don the livery of the turf in order to ride at race meetings, chiefly, however, in hunting and steeple-chasing. They rarely display their talents in what are called "flat races"; but many gentlemen riders would make excellent professional horsemen, although, it is said, a professional can always give an amateur jockey a stone in the weights. There is a tradition in Yorkshire of a clever jockey who was a girl, but so far as we can learn it is only a tradition. Buckle was a successful and hard-working jockey; from 1783 to 1831 he was, indeed, the horseman of his day. An instance of his power of work may be stated—he would ride from his residence to Newmarket, take part in a trial, and then come home the same day to tea at six o'clock, the distance covered being ninety-two miles, not counting the riding he would accomplish on the course at the capital of the turf.
A great feat of jockeyship was that accomplished by Benjamin Smith, who rode and won a race after having one of his legs broken in the struggle. The rider of Caractacus, in a race at Bath, was so unfortunate as to break his stirrup leather, but he nevertheless defeated all his opponents, and was so clever as to bring the detached stirrup home with him, so that he was able to scale the correct weight. A clever horseman once upon a time won the St. Leger after his horse had run into a ditch, and seemed to have lost all chance of victory. George Herring, a jockey of the olden time, achieved a feat which is recorded among the miscellanea of the turf; he was so fortunate as to win nineteen races in succession, without one single intervening defeat, a triumph that we are not aware has been attained by any other jockey.
The word jockey is in itself significant. One of the meanings of it, which Dr. Johnson gives, is, "a cheat, a trickish fellow." Another meaning given is, "to jostle by riding against one." To a great many the word is indicative of some phase of knavery. "He was jockeyed out of his money," is a phrase which denotes this. There is more in these meanings than is generally supposed. Those who are not behind the scenes of turf life have in general no idea of how races are run and won. They see the horses gallop from end to end of the course, but they may not be aware that each jockey has received from his master or his master's trainer particular instructions as to how he must comport himself in the race. The rider is not allowed to ride as he pleases, but must guide his horse at the will of his master. The directions given to a jockey are sometimes exceedingly simple. "Get home first," Lord George Bentinck used to say, "and to do that make every post a winning-post." Another owner will tell his jockey to "get to the front, and keep there till you are past the judge's chair." Some masters, again, delight in complex and garrulous instructions that would puzzle the wit of an old man to understand and obey, far less a jockey-boy of probably tender years. Any lad, if the horse he rides be only good enough, may win an important race, but in the end superior jockeyship generally gains the day; and it sometimes happens that the fastest horse in the struggle is beaten by the superior acumen of the boy who rides the winner.
The talents of jockeys vary considerably. One will lie in wait with his horse and "steal" the race from his opponent so quietly and win by so short a distance as to excite wonderment as to how it was all brought about. Another boy, if he feels that the horse he is riding is equal to the task, will make his way to the front and force the race from beginning to end with, so to speak, a flourish of trumpets. All that a jockey has learned, all that he knows, must be brought into requisition in the supreme minute or two which is devoted to the struggle. If a jockey has any talent, then is the time for its exhibition. Whilst the race is being ridden the owner and trainer of the horse engaged in the contest busily survey the scene with all attention through their powerful field-glasses, so that they are able to see whether or not their instructions are being obeyed by the jockey who is riding their horse.
A jockey riding in an important handicap has need of all the firmness and nerve he can command. A moment's inattention may lose him the race; there are others quite ready to take advantage of any mistakes he may make. He must have a good head and a fine hand; with the one he examines and judges the horses which are racing alongside of him, so as to note their power and see what their jockeys are doing; with his hands he feels the strength of the animal he is himself riding, so as to be able to regulate its pace and "bring" it at the right moment for a supreme effort. Any want of ability or misconduct on the part of a jockey in the riding of a race is at once detected by the questioning eyes which are ever following him as he rushes to the goal.
What are called "fine hands" are essential to a jockey; they are the instruments which indicate to him the strength and power of the animal which he is trying to guide to victory. Some horsemen have this gift in perfection, and have known how to use it to the best advantage. Strong horses will occasionally run away with the race, leaving the jockey powerless. In such cases what can a child, weighing perhaps six stone, do but sit still? It was a maxim of a celebrated jockey that a horse ought to be ridden as delicately as if it was being held in check by a silken thread; but each jockey in time acquires a style of his own. Some lads are famous for making their opponent believe the horse they are riding is quite out of the hunt; this is "kidding," and they so act as to put the rider of what may be a superior horse off his guard, and having done so, to a greater or lesser extent, they will sometimes by a final rush (if their horse is good enough) win the race, and so obtain the credit of being brilliant jockeys. Old horsemen of the "knowing" type will try what they can with safety, during a contest, to keep their younger brethren from scoring a win, all the tricks of the trade being brought into requisition on such occasions. A first-rate jockey, however, has qualities that are far beyond the range of mere cunning; he has a firm and graceful seat on horseback, "fine hands," and, above all, he is a good judge of pace, quite able to calculate whether the horse he is riding can last the distance he has to gallop, so as to be sure of winning, or whether he will require to be eased in his pace, or "nursed" for a final effort. There are jockeys who, for sinister purposes, can make a great show of riding power, but who, for all their doing so, "pull" their horse to prevent its being first; but as a rule the morale of the modern jockey is fairly good. Black sheep are to be found in the flock, but the great majority of the public horsemen of to-day, notwithstanding what they have in their power, are beyond suspicion.