Horse Race
A Day at the Races
Weekly hunts around Dartmouth and the South Hams in the 19th century were the norm, rather than the exception at the end of the 1890’s. The squires of the Netherton, Bowden, Shepleigh and Nethway supported every meet with delightful abandon. Their stables overflowed with good horseflesh, grooms and ostlers. Most of them had their own professional huntsmen, and several had their own professional jockeys to ride in race meetings at Blackawton, Exeter, Buckfastleigh and Newton Abbot.
There was serous concern in the district during 1876, however, that Dartmouth races had been allowed to die out. For 16 years no steeplechasing had been held on the Ridges, the only ‘flattish’ course in the immediate neighbourhood. Previously meetings had been rowdy and often police were unable to deal with gangs of pickpockets from Plymouth attracted by easy pickings. Additionally jockeys had used questionable tactics, while the local ‘bloods’ had interfered with races by tearing alongside the leading horses on their own mounts. In recent years this latter habit was worsened by the intrusion of women on horseback, who fancied they could ride as well as the men – and often did.
In spite of these complaints, in May 1876, a dozen sportsmen requisitioned Dartmouth’s mayor, Dr. John Puddicombe, to call a public meeting to consider the revival of the races. The first problem of a course was soon overcome when four farmers, J.Oldreive of South Wood, H.Trant of Thorn, P.Blackler, of Wheatland, and W.Harris, of Milton, agreed to allow the use of their land, with the proviso that all fences or hedges which were broken down must be replaced or repaired.
The major doubt concerned the date. Many of the sporting gents thought there would not be enough time to arrange a meeting that year; others, although preferring a Sprint event, pressed for an immediate revival. Finally, despite the anticlimax of it being after the Regatta they gave the go-ahead for Wednesday, September 15th, which also happened to be the 100th anniversary of the first running of the Doncaster St. Leger, one of the oldest classic races.
No money was spared to make the meeting a huge success. Advertisements were placed in national, sporting and local newspapers to make sure that the entry was a large one. The organisers were not disappointed. From miles around young and old flocked to the Ridges and the course was thronged with 6,000 people. On the highest point a wooden grandstand was erected. It gave glorious views over Torcross, Start Point, Torquay, the Raleigh Estate and the hills of Dartmoor. Unfortunately this weak structure threatened to collapse under the weight of 300 spectators. Hundreds had made the journey from Torquay and while they waited they were entertained by the ‘Italian band conducted by Signor Piliaghi’, according to the Chronicle.
The meeting was fortunate to get beyond the first race, however. In the past punters had always been wary of owners who brought their horses long distances and the Free Handicap over the mile and a half with six hurdles was no exception. This event was run in two heats, with the same horses competing in both. Betting was heavy on Venison, a much travelled hunter, and Albric, and it was justified. All the local horses were out of sight as Albric and Venison approached the run-in neck and neck. Albric broke the deadlock by racing home by a length.
Almost immediately the two rivals were saddled up again for the second heat. Albric, in view of his previous success was made 6-1 on favourite. Gregory on Benison and Brunskill on Albric were two of the most successful local jockeys and from the start they kept abreast of each other as if attached by a thread. In sight of the grandstand Brunskill forced his horse into the lead, but his mount was tiring fast and opposite the stand caught a hind hoof in a hurdle, threw Brunskill and dashed on.
Brunskill was prostrate on the ground and there were shrieks of horror when the following Benison trampled over him. To the consternation of the stewards nearly all the occupants of the grandstand dashed on to the course to the critically injured man. Racing was halted as doctors forced their way through the mob and carried Brunskill head height over the crowd.
The stewards were at odds to know whether the meeting should go on as Brunskill appeared to be dead, but medical assistance from Dr. Soper, the new mayor, revived him and he tottered off with nothing more severe than a broken arm and concussion. There was still the problem of Gregory on Venison, who by now had had dismounted out in the country and was waiting for instructions from the stewards, A messenger was sent out and according to the Chronicle of that day; ‘Venison after once or twice refusing the hurdle in front of the stand, subsequently walked over and was awarded the stakes of 20 sovereigns.’
The main race of the day was the Dartmouth Handicap with a first prize of 30 guineas. Another horse from afar, Worthing, was made hot favourite, while the locally ridden Bob was the outsider, whose other local rival, Little Wonder, was ridden by one of the Cutmore family. Little Wonder was responsible for the false start, but when the race was restarted Bob soon stormed into the lead, tracked by Echo, another outsider. The two of them alternated in the lead before Bob swept ahead in ‘Mr. Blackler’s turnip field’ for a popular victory.
So far no betting coups had been successful, but while the racing was going on one out-of-town cheat was disguising his horse, named Boz. When the horse entered the parade ring he had few admirers. His coat seemed mangy, he looked at least 17 and had the appearance of an old cab horse. But Boz ran and jumped like a stag to belie his price of 5-1. He outstripped the field and was half a mile in front when he reached the finishing straight and was able to walk in. The owner collected his winnings and was soon racing Boz again – straight out of town.
The horse of the day, however, was undoubtedly the busy Bob. He was turned out again in the last race and, after working his way through the field, tore in first for the second time. With the sweat of his exertions still on his flanks he was harnessed up into a trap, which carried four occupants, and promptly trotted them back to the village seven miles away from where they had brought him earlier in the day.
Bob typified the National Hunt of the time. He had raced five miles and run a total of 14 miles between the shafts. In the same century a former milk-round horse was to win the Grand National.
That night in a local hotel the race committee held a celebration dinner; racing had returned to Dartmouth for at least another 20 years.
First Published November 2010 By The Dart