THE KING OF JOCKEYS.

Thames Star, Volume LIX, Issue 16624, 21 October 1925, Page 6

THE KING OF JOCKEYS.

FRED ARCHER’S CAREER. A FORTUNE IN ONE RACE. Sloan, Donoghue or Sande? All great lads in their own peculiar fashion , but the turf followers of a half-cen-tury ago have another in mind whom they insist was the king pin of all time in the ways of jockeys—Fred Archer (says an American writer). In a single race at Manchester, England, in 1881, he cleaned up more than £120,000 for his employer. This is perhaps the greatest single killing ever made at a racetrack. At any rate, Archer’s star as a money getter, by long odds, shines the brightest of them all. He was another Sande, in that his honesty was never once questioned. Also, like Sande, he was left broken and unconscious on the track once and came back to ride again, better than ever. The second terrible tangle, however, killed him. Archer visited the United States about 1879 and he was one of the first fellows ever seen in New York i wearing a wrist-watch. This wrist- 1 watch habit is ancient, just the same as the writer recalls having seen them ! worn by grimy miners in the region of Tey.cuco, Mexico, twenty years ago, ' and of having been told that the grand- I fathers of these same miners wore them.

The wrist-watch worn by Archer had. however, another interest; an interest of a nature rarely associated with jockeys. “She gave it to me just before she died,” he explained, speaking of his wife. “And when she strapped it on my wrist she said : ‘Wear it always, Fred, in remembrance of the one who loved you so much.’ T’ll never let it off me and I’m going, to be. buried with it strapped wrist.’ ALWAYS GARBED IN BLACK. Archer was a thin fellow of habitual thoughtful mien, who looked more like a theological student than a jockey. Moreover, he always dressed in black from the feet up, even insisting that bis employer, Captain Macliel], of the British Navy, adopt these colours. Machell ,incidentally, was an interesting Britisher ,who quite recently. He owned an Irish-bred horse called A alour, on which lie repeatedly plunged £250,000 and won, with Archer up. As a feather-weight of 73lbs Archer won his first big race—the Lincolnshire Handicap. His mount was Tomahawk, a classy fellow, but of no proud blood. Then the jockey can be said to have leaped to world-wide fame. Day after day lie rode them in ahea*d of all op ; position.

United to his natural qualities as a horseman he brought to bear lieadwork and generalship, such as quickly established.his leadership for the time. He would study his mounts, their peculiarities and capacities, just as a school boy would study his books. As a judge of pace, whether in a long or short race, he was an expert, and this is a qualification few jockeys appear to possess to-day. In getting away from die post- lie appeared to have a particular genius, since in all the time of his riding he was never once caught. Six;, John Astley's splendid nag, Peter; was the favourite in the Manchester Cup event and the betting was swift in London. Capain Maehell had secretly agreed with Archer to let him act as a free lance in this event, as Maehell had no horse he believed in the class. This news appeared to have drifted to Sir John in some monner, and one day the jockey received a surprise visit.

After some feeling about, Sir John came out bluntly and told Archer that there were reports he was to ride Peter and that, as a consequence the horse was getting a short price. He asked Archer to issue a public denial . that he was* to ride the favourite. Sir John then offered the jockey the pick of his stables in any future race if he would withdraw. Archer laughed and Sir John went away in ill temper. But the next morning the London newspapers carried a story that Archer would not ride Peter, and the odds greatly widened. Delighted, Sir- John sent a messenger to Archer with £SOO. The messenger promptly returned in a chastened mood, with the cash. Now came Archer’s inspiration, acted on in a moment of pique over wounded pride, because he liked to ride winners. He went to see his old friend Mach oil and said: “Well, sir, 1 don’t ride at Manchester.” “The devil you say,” was the reply. “Peter with you up, can win in a walk.” “So he can,” rejoined the jockey, “but Sir John asked me to step down and then tried to salve hiv leHn.gs with £500.” “Take it ,lad, take it; that's a lot of nice money.” “No, Captain. But I’m going to ride the winner in that race and he’s not going to be Peter.” “Boy, you’re crazy,” exclaimed Machell. “There isn’t a horse in England that can beat Peter.”

“Oh, yes, there is,” snapped Archer. “Yon have a young fellow, called Valour, in your stable and I want him. I’m going to ride him and beat Peter. You can bet your last pound on it.” NOT LOOKING FOR MONEY. The captain’s eyes twinkled, but he protested. “I know you can ride, lad, but don’t attempt the impossible. However, if you are determined to ride Valour I’ll pop out and see if I can gather £45,000 or so to back you up, but bless my soul, don’t you know that my horse is only a miler! And to race him against Peter, doubtless the best horse in all Europe! And a distance of a mile and three-quarters at that!” Then, with the light of a .♦•port in his face, came: “Look here, Archer, there will be at least 60 to 1 against my horse. If you’re not joking I’m going to get on for all I can rake up and I’m going to get on pretty lor you, also.” This brought a scowl to the face of the. jockey. “I’m going to ride Valour because Sir John let me down, and beating Peter will be sufficient reward.”

The next day in London the race fans were dazed. There was first a wager of £33,000 to £SOO laid down. Then came several more huge bets and he odds on the unknown Valour dropped from 66 to 1 to 20 to 1. .Still the wisle ones insisted that Archer could not win, either one, two or three and more money was offered, but Machell “had shot his whole roll.” We

will let Archer tell the rest of the story in his own language—“l just took my old horse Valour right to the front for he had a good bit of speed always and could be easily placed. I set the field a hot pace on the straight stretches—which was the the best way to get Peter to sulk, as he never did relish having any horse outrun him at such a time in a race, and was liable to pin back his ears in such a. contingency. EASING lIP ON THE TURNS. “On the turns I eased up, giving Valour a breather and letting the second horse almost reach me, when I straightened out again, and away I went, opening up another gap. So, when it came to the last quarter, T still led by daylight and had one littlo run bottled up in my old horse for the finish. “The tussle came in the last furlong, Peter closing fast on me in the run to the judge’s chair. But in the final strides I let out that last link I had still bottled up in Valour, and just stalled off Peter’s rush by a short head. “It was one of the most gratifying wins tp me that I ever secured in my life. Yes, 1 think Captain Machell, Matthew Dawson "and myself got about as much out of that, race iis either of us had ever taken from the -ring on any one occasion before. I was in excess of £120,000.” Archer' was born at Prestbury, England ,on January 11, 1856. On November 8, 1886, whi,]e in a. raging fever at his sister’s house in Newmarket, he obtained a pistol and shot himself j through the temple, dying instantly. | Just before he was stricken with illness he Ay as pitched from his horse in the Prince of Wales Stakes at Ascot, and seriously injured. During his career he Avon at one time or another virtually every classic knoAvn to England and France.