contrast to the spider-like form and emaciated figure of a
Newmarket jockey.
Qui studet optatam cursu contingere metam,
Multa tulit, fecitque puer, SUDAVAT et alsit.
'Who in a race would reach the long'd-for goal,
Must suffer much, do much, in youth, indeed,
Must SWEAT and fag.'
This is
literally true
respecting the English jockey, whose
attenuated form is
accounted for in the following dialogue in an
old work entitled 'Newmarket, or an Essay on the Turf,' 1771.
'Stop, stop, OLD GENTLEMAN! I desire to speak a word to you; pray
which is the way to----.'
'I beg, sir, you will not
interrupt me. I am a Newmarket
jockey--am to ride in a few days a match, upon which there is a
great deal depending, and I am now PREPARING.'
'Oh, I see now, you are a YOUNG man, instead of that old one for
whom I mistook you by your wrappings; but pray, explain.'
'Why, your Honour must know that we jockeys, in order to bring
ourselves down to the weight required for the horses we are to
ride, sweat under a load of
flannel wrapped about us beneath
coats and great coats, and walk two or three miles in the heat of
summer, till we are ready to faint under our burden.'
'Indeed! Why, you go through a deal!'
'Ah, sir, a great deal indeed! Why, we sometimes lie hours and
hours between two feather-beds--to melt away our extraordinary
weight.'
'But will you give me leave to examine your present dress? Hum!
Two
flannel waistcoats, a thick cloth coat, a Bath surtout! It
is a vast weight to carry this warm weather. I only hope you
won't sink under it.'
'Never fear, sir, I do not doubt but I shall do very well.'
The rewards of
victory" target="_blank" title="n.胜利,战胜">
victory were as plain and simple in the Grecian
games as they were distinguishing and
honourable. A
garland of
palm, or
laurel, or
parsley, or pine leaves, served to adorn the
brow of the
fortunatevictor,
whilst his name stood a chance of
being transmitted to
posterity in the strains of some lofty
Pindar. The rewards of modern days are indeed more substantial
and solid, being paid in weighty gold or its
equivalent, no
matter whether obtained by the ruin of others, while the fleet
coursers and their exulting proprietors stand
conspicuous in the
list of the Racing Calendar. The
ingenious and ironical author
of 'Newmarket, or an Essay on the Turf,' in the year 1771,
bestowed the following titles and honours on the most famous
horse of the day--Kelly's Eclipse:--'Duke of Newmarket, Marquis
of Barnet, Earl of Epsom and York, Viscount Canterbury, Baron
Eclipse of Mellay; Lord of Lewes, Salisbury, Ipswich, and
Northampton; Comptroller-General of the race-grounds, and Premier
Racer of All England.' To bear coat of arms--'A Pegasus argent
on a field verd;--the supporters--two Englishmen in ermined robes
and ducal coronets;--the crest--a purse, Or;--the motto--"Volat
ocior Euro." '[75]
[75] 'He flies swifter than the east wind.'
Again, in the
exhibition of those useful and
honourable Olympic
pastimes of old, the cause of
morality was not overlooked:--there
was in them a happy union of
utility, pleasure, and
virtue. A
spotless life and unblameable manners, a
purity of
descent by
being born in wedlock through several generations, and a series
of creditable relations, were
indispensable qualifications of a
candidate on the Olympic turf. It is true, there is at least as
much attention paid to
purity and faultlessness on the plains of
Newmarket; but the
application is to the blood and pedigree of
the horse, not of his rider.
Nay, it was, and is,
notorious that the word 'jockey' has
acquired the meaning of 'to trick,' 'to cheat,' as appears in all
our dictionaries and in common parlance. What is the inference
from this but that the
winning of races is no
absolute proof of
the
superiority of the horse--for whose
improvement racing is
said to be encouraged; but rather the result of a secret
combination of expedients or arrangements--in a word, jockeying,
that is, cheating, tricking. The only 'moral'
character required
in the jockey is the
determination to do
whatsoever may be agreed
upon or determined by those who are
willing and able to give 'a
consideration' for the
convenient accommodation.
But it is, or was, the associations, the
inevitable concomitants,
of the turf and racing that stamp it, not only as something
questionable, but as a bane and infamy to the nation; and if