Scandal, suffragettes & the biggest-ever betting coup
The 1913 Epsom Derby changed history in more ways than one. It is perhaps best known for the death of the suffragette Emily Davison, a vociferous and outspoken feminist who met her grisly end four days after the Derby, in Epsom Cottage Hospital, having thrown herself at the King’s horse midway through the race.
Davison had long been in trouble with the authorities. She had berated and attacked politicians, had appeared in court to answer for her crimes and had served several prison sentences during which she was forcibly fed. If nothing else, she was a conviction politician.
On one occasion she barricaded herself into her cell. The redoubtable prison authorities thought they would quite literally flush her out and decided to fill the cell with water using a fire hose. If Davison had not been able to swim she would have drowned, such was the barbaric treatment often meted out to suffragettes. They were considered to be terrorists, the Real IRA or al Qaeda of their day.
Emily Davison wanted one thing in life – to secure the vote for women. And she would do anything to achieve her aim. On Derby day, she had positioned herself at Tattenham Corner, the bend on Epsom Downs that leads into the steep downhill run-in towards the winning post. As the first horses approached, she ducked under the rails and ran out on to the track. In the Pathé News footage, she appears disorientated, dodging the first group of horses before attempting to grab the reins of the King’s horse, Anmer. She was hit by three quarters of a ton of solid thoroughbred horse flesh hurtling towards her at more than 35mph, and poor Emily crumpled like a rag. She died from her injuries four days later and more than 50,000 people attended her funeral.
The moment Emily Davison stepped in front of the King's horse, Anmer
But there was a subplot to the drama that has rarely been appreciated. Five fearless gamblers known as the Druid’s Lodge Confederacy had entered into the race a savage beast of a horse called Aboyeur. He was difficult to train and regularly attacked both humans and horses with his teeth and heels. But the Confederates knew that Aboyeur had a rare talent.
The horse was trained on Salisbury Plain behind an iron curtain of security. For them to pull o a successful betting coup, absolute secrecy would be paramount. After all, if too many people knew what they were up to, they would gamble on the horse, too, and ruin the odds.
For most of the time, Aboyeur was trained in the dark, away from prying eyes high up on Salisbury Plain. He was worked hard on a treadmill and the lads who dealt with him were sworn to say nothing. They had no idea what weight he was carrying either, but he was always weighed down quite heavily to disguise his true ability. The Confederates left nothing to chance and all the lads were locked behind great iron bars in their evening quarters. These bars are now an exhibit at the National Horseracing Museum in Newmarket.
Aboyeur had differing form as a racehorse and there were serious doubts about his demeanour. But the Confederates were confident that his latent ability would shine through. They knew he had talent as long as he could control his temper. The group had been backing the horse with bookmakers across the country since February. Just small amounts to begin with but the tiny bets soon began to add up. Even so, the horse began the race as a complete nohoper at odds of 100 to 1.
As Emily leapt on to the track, Aboyeur and Craganour, the favourite – owned by Charles Bower Ismay, whose family owned the Titanic, which had sunk the previous year – were battling it out in a ferocious race. As they hurtled towards the finish, Aboyeur, true to form, plunged his teeth into Craganour’s neck, drawing blood. The wounded horse veered to the right to escape Aboyeur’s clutches and while the jockey tried to keep him straight, Aboyeur kept lunging at him. The pair crossed the line neck and neck, and Craganour won by a nose. But these were the days before photo finishes.
Since the Titanic went down with the loss of more than 1,500 lives, the Ismay family were frowned upon in polite society and one of the stewards, Eustace Loder, had personal issues with Bower. Revenge would be his.
Many bookmakers had already paid out the winning bets on Craganour, but the stewards reversed the decision, placing Aboyeur first. He was returned at odds of 100 to 1 and the bookies had to pay out on him, too. Indeed, the Confederates had the biggest payday ever seen – before or since – on an English racetrack. They took £14m (in today’s money) from the bookies and many bookmakers were ruined.
Emily, meanwhile, lay in Epsom Cottage Hospital. Many thought her actions reprehensible and there was little sympathy from the ruling elite.
Ultimately she achieved her aim but it was not until 1928, a full 15 years after the tragic events at Epsom Downs, that women were given the vote – and then only those aged 21 or over.
Was it Emily’s intention to commit suicide? Perceived wisdom says not, but I am not so sure. What is certain about that day, however, is that the Confederates succeeded in pulling off the greatest gambling coup ever witnessed on an English racecourse.
Thrown, by Dominic Prince, is a novel about the 1913 Epsom Derby, due for publication on 10 October 2013 by Weidenfeld & Nicolson.
Davison had long been in trouble with the authorities. She had berated and attacked politicians, had appeared in court to answer for her crimes and had served several prison sentences during which she was forcibly fed. If nothing else, she was a conviction politician.
On one occasion she barricaded herself into her cell. The redoubtable prison authorities thought they would quite literally flush her out and decided to fill the cell with water using a fire hose. If Davison had not been able to swim she would have drowned, such was the barbaric treatment often meted out to suffragettes. They were considered to be terrorists, the Real IRA or al Qaeda of their day.
Emily Davison wanted one thing in life – to secure the vote for women. And she would do anything to achieve her aim. On Derby day, she had positioned herself at Tattenham Corner, the bend on Epsom Downs that leads into the steep downhill run-in towards the winning post. As the first horses approached, she ducked under the rails and ran out on to the track. In the Pathé News footage, she appears disorientated, dodging the first group of horses before attempting to grab the reins of the King’s horse, Anmer. She was hit by three quarters of a ton of solid thoroughbred horse flesh hurtling towards her at more than 35mph, and poor Emily crumpled like a rag. She died from her injuries four days later and more than 50,000 people attended her funeral.
The moment Emily Davison stepped in front of the King's horse, AnmerBut there was a subplot to the drama that has rarely been appreciated. Five fearless gamblers known as the Druid’s Lodge Confederacy had entered into the race a savage beast of a horse called Aboyeur. He was difficult to train and regularly attacked both humans and horses with his teeth and heels. But the Confederates knew that Aboyeur had a rare talent.
The horse was trained on Salisbury Plain behind an iron curtain of security. For them to pull o a successful betting coup, absolute secrecy would be paramount. After all, if too many people knew what they were up to, they would gamble on the horse, too, and ruin the odds.
For most of the time, Aboyeur was trained in the dark, away from prying eyes high up on Salisbury Plain. He was worked hard on a treadmill and the lads who dealt with him were sworn to say nothing. They had no idea what weight he was carrying either, but he was always weighed down quite heavily to disguise his true ability. The Confederates left nothing to chance and all the lads were locked behind great iron bars in their evening quarters. These bars are now an exhibit at the National Horseracing Museum in Newmarket.
Aboyeur had differing form as a racehorse and there were serious doubts about his demeanour. But the Confederates were confident that his latent ability would shine through. They knew he had talent as long as he could control his temper. The group had been backing the horse with bookmakers across the country since February. Just small amounts to begin with but the tiny bets soon began to add up. Even so, the horse began the race as a complete nohoper at odds of 100 to 1.
As Emily leapt on to the track, Aboyeur and Craganour, the favourite – owned by Charles Bower Ismay, whose family owned the Titanic, which had sunk the previous year – were battling it out in a ferocious race. As they hurtled towards the finish, Aboyeur, true to form, plunged his teeth into Craganour’s neck, drawing blood. The wounded horse veered to the right to escape Aboyeur’s clutches and while the jockey tried to keep him straight, Aboyeur kept lunging at him. The pair crossed the line neck and neck, and Craganour won by a nose. But these were the days before photo finishes.
Since the Titanic went down with the loss of more than 1,500 lives, the Ismay family were frowned upon in polite society and one of the stewards, Eustace Loder, had personal issues with Bower. Revenge would be his.
Many bookmakers had already paid out the winning bets on Craganour, but the stewards reversed the decision, placing Aboyeur first. He was returned at odds of 100 to 1 and the bookies had to pay out on him, too. Indeed, the Confederates had the biggest payday ever seen – before or since – on an English racetrack. They took £14m (in today’s money) from the bookies and many bookmakers were ruined.
Emily, meanwhile, lay in Epsom Cottage Hospital. Many thought her actions reprehensible and there was little sympathy from the ruling elite.
Ultimately she achieved her aim but it was not until 1928, a full 15 years after the tragic events at Epsom Downs, that women were given the vote – and then only those aged 21 or over.
Was it Emily’s intention to commit suicide? Perceived wisdom says not, but I am not so sure. What is certain about that day, however, is that the Confederates succeeded in pulling off the greatest gambling coup ever witnessed on an English racecourse.
Thrown, by Dominic Prince, is a novel about the 1913 Epsom Derby, due for publication on 10 October 2013 by Weidenfeld & Nicolson.