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A
LECTURE ON RACING
by
John Tilley
| LADIES
AND GENTLEMEN, I've just got back from Aintree—a long but not
unpleasant walk . . . and I thought it might be suitable if
I said a few words about racing. In racing I'm very experienced
both on the sticks and over the flat. I was in the Grand National,
but it wasn't mentioned in the papers, because, although my
horse Maudie completed the course, I was called away at the
canal turn. Maudie has been in our family for many years—a very
reliable race-horse. We call her Maudie because every spring
she will come into the garden and make her nest in the tulip
beds. Of course, it never comes to anything because it's only
a mare's nest, but we always live in hopes. I bought her from
a very well-known racing stable off the Hammersmith Broadway.
I didn't know Maudie so well in those days as I do now, and
when I led her to the top of the Mews she had one of her attacks
and fell down. Of course, I was very disappointed and I went
up to the owner of the racing stables and said, " You know,
that horse you sold me has just fallen down and it is so necessary
that a race-horse should stand up if it's going to do anything
in racing." He was a very reasonable man and he saw my point
of view at once, and said that if I liked to go down to the
stables I could choose any horse I wished. So I went down to
the stables and found that they were crammed full of horses.
I led the one at the end out and they all fell down. So I thought
that perhaps Maudie was the best of them really. In any case,
I took her home and we fed her up and she had early nights and
all that and she got very much stronger, but she's still very
delicate. Of course, you've got to be very careful when you're
buying a horse. A friend, of mine wanted a race-horse, and he
met a man who said he'd sell him one for ten pounds. He said
it was very cheap, because the horse had one fault and that
was it was passionately attached to cabbages, and his wife was
very annoyed because it would go into the garden and sit on
the cabbages. So my friend said that it was quite all right
because he lived by the sea and hadn't got a garden; so there
weren't any cabbages. He bought the horse, but when he took
it down to the seaside, as soon as it saw the sea, it dashed
into the water and sat down. He was very upset about this, and
when he met the man he said the horse must be insane, because
it would run into the sea and sit down; and the man said, "
How awfully silly of me, I quite forgot to tell you it's awfully
fond of fish," which only shows you how idiotic horses are.
Of course, I knew we were going to have difficulty with Maudie
before the race, because the night before she didn't sleep a
wink and kept burying her face in her hoofs, so I guessed that
she had one of her bad heads. I thought it better to give her
an aspirin, but it's awfully difficult to give a horse an aspirin,
because you have to blow the tablet down its throat with a tube,
but in this case Maudie blew first—which was so awkward. By
the time she'd swallowed one tablet I had swallowed twenty,
so I thought we'd better stop. Then we had great difficulty
in the paddock. I was the first to be weighed in, and when I
got into the machine it all sort of crumpled up. The pointer
whizzed round, and instead of a penny coming out a whole lot
of springs and things started darting about all over the place.
Of course, I said, as I say now, that the machine was a weak
one, but the Stewards were furious, and when they saw Maudie,
they sent for an R.S.P.C.A. Inspector, and he said that he'd
have her scratched, but of course she's very quick and got in
first and bit his ear off. That took a good deal of smoothing
over, I can tell you. Then when we were all lined up for the
start, Maudie was very eager to get off first and got all tied
up in the starting-tape. Sne nearly hanged one of the official
starters—dashed about like a dog with a bone. She wouldn't put
him down—it was so embarrassing for me. But our real difficulty
started when we got to the fences, because you see Maudie can't
jump, and it is so necessary in the Grand National. I mean—you
see—Maudie doesn't know when she's beaten—she will not give
in—if she can't jump a fence she'll bite her way through. I'm
sure if I've been off at every fence, I've been under them and
through them as well. Of course, I'm all for perseverance, but
that sort of thing does delay in a race. And we've been in and
out of Becher's Brook like a couple of performing seals all
the afternoon. Of course, I'm a gentleman jockey and I'm a little
more sensitive than the rest, but when we crawled out of the
Brook for the sixth time and the four-thirty was going over,
the verbal insults of the jockeys and the dumb insolence of
the horses was very hard to bear . . . but I'm wrapped up in
racing—after all, it is the sport of kings and I have royal
blood in my veins. Oh yes, my Aunt Amelia on the Scottish side
of the family is directly descended from Flora Macdonald, and
the Royal College of Heraldry told her that if only the young
Pretender had been a little older and a little more genuine,
she would have been moving in very exalted circles. As it is,
she's the first lady in Holloway. Of course, Maudie's not so
good over the sticks, but she's very good in a flat race. Take
my flat, for instance; many is the time she and I have given
the landlady a couple of lengths and beaten her to the County
Court by a short head. Last year I entered her for the Derby.
I don't say that we were winning, but we were well behind .
. . she took Tattenham Corner at speed and went right over the
banking. Got her fetlocks caught up in a tree and we had the
greatest difficulty in getting her freed. Of course, Maudie
carried a lot of money in the Grand National. I was speaking
to Sir Charles in the Silver Ring and he told me he'd backed
her pretty heavily, but he was rather afraid that one of the
threepenny bits had got a hole in it. But I told him not to
worry, because I knew whom he dealt with, and they never worried
about last-minute mistakes like that. A friend of mine used
to deal with the same firm. He used a code—orange to win, apple
win or a place. But he was very forgetful, and one day he telegraphed
" Raspberry," but they understood and backed the horse both
ways. Of course, I'm only in favour of racing—not in favour
of betting, because betting is the pastime of idle people, and
I once knew a man who was a great better and he was so idle
that he thought manual labour was a Spanish grandee, but he
would bet, so I let him. Well, now, I'm afraid I must dash off
now, because to tell you the truth, I've got to fix up about
the sale of Maudie— you see, I was approached by a big shirt-making
firm whose directors wish to buy Maudie for stud purposes. So
I'll dash off—good night, it has been so nice . . . thank you
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