Most of my horses, when for sale, were bought by a man in a considerable way of business, a well-known breeder, too, of shire horses, taking many prizes at the leading shows. A handsome man with a presence, and an excellent judge, shrewd but straight. He would ask the price after examining the animal, and make an offer which he would very seldom exceed if refused at first; but he would spend some time in conversation, apparently quite irrelevant and very amusing, though always returning to the point at intervals with arguments in favour of the acceptance of his bid. He was so genial and pleasant and such good company, for no man was ever better acquainted with the ways of the world, that he very rarely, I think, left the premises without a deal, though sometimes he was in his gig before the final bargain was struck. It is a custom of the trade for the seller to give something back to the buyer by way of "luck money," and the last time I did business with him I refused to give more than one shilling each on two horses, as I never received more than that sum when a buyer myself. He accepted cheerfully, telling me that a shilling each was quite worth taking, as he had a thousand horses through his hands in the course of every twelve months, and that a thousand shillings meant £50 a year.
The best piece of horse-dealing I ever did, was the purchase of a six months old colt for £26, winning £20 in prizes with him as a two-year-old, working him regularly at three and four on the farm, and selling him at five for eighty guineas to a large brewery firm. Eighty guineas in those days was a big price for a cart horse, though, of course, in modern times, owing to the war, much higher prices can be obtained.
I remember another dealer, who, a notable figure in a white top hat with a deep black band, and large coloured spectacles, was to be seen at all the fairs and principal sales. He, too, had an ingratiating manner, and would accost a young farmer with a hearty, "Good-morning, Squire," or some such flattering introduction. A wise dealer always knows how to keep up amicable relations with a possible seller or buyer, and never descends to abuse, or the assumption of a personal injury if he cannot persuade a seller to accept his price, as is the case with some dealers with less savoir faire.
A successful cattle dealer I knew had similar tactics of fraternity, always addressing his sellers as "Governor," with marked respect. But the best instance of this diplomatic spirit occurred in the case of a deal between an old Hampshire friend of mine and a well-known and historic sheep dealer from the same county. My friend had lately become the happy father of twins, the fact being widely known in the neighbourhood, for he was a very prominent man. He had 100 sheep for sale, and the dealer was inspecting them, in a pen near the house. As the bargain proceeded, the front door opened, and a nurse-maid appeared with the twins in their perambulator. The dealer noticed them immediately, and was not slow to turn the incident to his advantage. "There they be, there they be, the little darlings," he called out, "a sovereign apiece nurse, a sovereign apiece." Diving into a capacious pocket, he pulled out a handful of gold and silver, and selecting two sovereigns he handed them to the nurse for the children. "After that," my friend said, "what could I do but sell him the sheep, though he got them at two shillings a head less than I ought to have made." Now two shillings a head, on one hundred sheep, represents ten pounds, leaving eight pounds which the dealer earned by his keen insight into human nature.
This dealer carried on business with a brother, and they were to be seen for very many years at all the large Hampshire summer sheep fairs, where indeed, sometimes, when prices were rising, they owned nearly all the sheep offered for sale, having bought them up beforehand. As in a favourable summer when there was plenty of keep and a good prospect of abundant roots prices would rise as much as 10s. a head during the months of the big fairs, and as at a single fair as many as 30,000 sheep would be for sale, the chances of profit offered to the courageous dealer with capital are manifest.
Though risen from small beginnings, these brothers amassed considerable fortunes, all of which, it was said, they invested in real estate, so that they were known at one time to be worth at least £100,000; and, as they continued in business for some years after the time of which I am writing, they must have exceeded that sum considerably as a total, though the values of land began to fall away towards the end of their active existence.
The more energetic of the two used very original phrases, in which he extolled the physical virtues of flocks he had to sell; referring to their size, he would say, "Just look at their backs! look at their backs! they be as long as a wet Sunday!" Watching him, you could see that while giving full attention to his customer, and keeping him in a good humour with pleasant chat, while a bargain was proceeding, his glance perpetually wandered to the moving crowd around the pens, and that he had not only eyes, but ears, open to catch any impression bearing on the progress of the general trade. He knew everybody, and intuition told him upon what business they were present.
These two dealers combined money-lending with sheep-dealing; if a buyer had not the ready cash they would give credit for the purchase price, the sheep forming the security; it being understood that when they were again for sale the lenders should have the selling of them on commission.
Speaking of horse-dealers I referred to the custom of giving "luck money," otherwise called "chap money." The word "chap" takes its derivation from the Anglo-Saxon ceap price or bargain, and ceapean, to bargain, whence come the words "chop," to exchange; "cheap," "Cheapside," "Mealcheapen Street" in Worcester, "cheapjack," etc. Also, the prefix in the names of market towns, such as Chipping Campden, Chipping Norton, etc. There is a curious place-name here in Burley, New Forest, where I am now living, spelt "Shappen," which puzzled me until I chanced to meet with an ancient print of a village merry-making, with dancing and a May-pole and found that the name Shappen applied especially to the spot, and that not far away the Forest ponies and cattle were formerly penned for sale at an annual fair in a lane, still called Pound Lane "Pound" is from the Anglo-Saxon pund, a fold or inclosure. Shappen is evidently, therefore, derived from ceap (and possibly pund) as a place in which bargains were struck, and the name testifies to the extreme antiquity of the New Forest pony and cattle fair formerly held there.
There are several notable horse fairs still held near Evesham. Besides the one at Pershore, already mentioned, the most important fairs are held at Stow-on-the-Wold and Shipston-on-Stour, both very out-of-the-way places; and many stories of the wiles of horse-copers were related in connection therewith. I remember the following told as occurring at Stow-on-the-Wold. A man approached a simple-looking young farmer, and getting into conversation with him, pointed out a horse not far off, telling him that he had quarrelled with the owner who refused in consequence to sell him the horse which he wished to buy. He promised the farmer £2 if he would undertake the negotiation, and could buy the horse for £10. The farmer agreed, and after some apparent difficulty succeeded in effecting the purchase at the sum named, paid the money and returned with the horse to the place where he had left his acquaintance. The latter, however, had disappeared, and after searching the fair from one end to the other, the farmer took back the horse, to repudiate the bargain. The owner had also vanished, and the farmer found himself with an ancient screw, which eventually he was glad to get rid of at a pound a leg, losing £6 on the deal.