The daily gazette., 1879-06-11
FIRST EDITION.
PAROLES RIDER.
How Great ENG lish Jockey Earns
the Income Of = Tenor and Looks
Like u Banker.

How Great Emgiish Jockey Earns
the Income Of . Tenor and Looks
Like Banker.
1t is Sunday evening 1t Newmarket;
one of those evening of early summer on
which the town, sacred to horsefesh,
looks its best. Quiet at night-at least,
for several years past-Newmarket is es-
pecially delightful as the shades descend
upon Sunday. All is clean and neat
and stillest, neatest of all, is Heath
House. The trees are daintily pruned
there Is spice Of primness with which
the flower-beds are planned accuracy in
the fresh gravel; Of trimness in the look
OF severity in the high polish Of the brass
work on the door. There is nothing of
the horse, horsey, about this side, at least,
of Heath House, and, az the sound of a
hymn sung by youthful voices catches
the ear of the visitor, he marvels whether
the tales he has heard of Newmarket can
be true. No sooner, however, does he
cross Mat Dawson's threshold than he
recognizes that he is in dwelling where
the merits of the ''noble animal, very
useful to man," are tholo roughly apprecia-
ted. Passing by a neat rack of whips,
above which lies the famous whisk con-
stricte1 of the tail of that good horse,
III ormanby, who won the Derby in
year of "clinkers," he enters Mr.. Daw-
sons sanctum, with every inch of wall
space covered with portraits of famous
race-horses, and finds ensconced in ample
armchairs the master of Heath House
and his friend, Mr.. Harry Hall, by whose
pencil most of the portraits in this equine
Valhalla have been wrought. To them
enters presently tall, slender young
man of some twenty-five years. His
general costume is, like his manner, ex-
ceedingly quiet and unassuming. There
is nothing horsey in his raiment, in the
fashion of his dark hair; nor does he
wear scarf tied in coaching fold with
the almost inevitable fox-tusk pin, the
place of this eminently sporting article
of costume being filled by sailors knot
Nor is Fred Archer afflicted with the
Newmarket air, the five-to-two carriage
of the head, so offensive in the successful
light-weights OF the old plunging days.
1t is odd that really great jockeys never
wear jaunty air, preferring to leave
that kind of thing to the featherweighi
suddenly lifted to fame by the winning
OF a few handicaps.
As he enters, dressed in a suit of dark
clothes, relieved only by the chain
which holds the magnificent watch pre-
sented to him by Mr.. Dawson when he
was "out of his time" with his oveccoat
thrown back and his billy cock hat held
in his left hand, Fred Archer might easi-
ly be taken for the thriving bank drop
ped in to take his chiefs orders on some
important business. Success appears t6
have steadied rather than unsettled him
and nothing is more pleasant than tt
witness the deferential air the most sue
cessful jockey of the day toward hi
former master and present friend AM
part employe. That it may not b,
thought that Fred Archer's quiet ant
modest demeanor is dwelt on overmIcl
it may be well to mention that his pres
ent income, entirely his own, as he
out of his apprenticeship some four O
five years, is about as great as that Of
Queens counsel in mid-career; of
especial" surgeon; of any royal academ
ician, batting perhaps five, and almos
half as great as that of an Italian tenO
singer. 1t is quickly earned, withou
long delays, expectations, and disaI
pointments, for when he is put in charg'
it is not long before the event is decided
His great causes depend on his applici
tion within space of minute of hi
! nice judgement of pace; his successful
operations on the display of consumat
nerve and courage in tearing down
perilous declivity or hugging the rails q
an awkward turn; his great pictures al
dashed in with single stroke, as whe
he drove Jannette through the leadii
,o;, at nopoaofar his tinnal ptlp
4 when he brings a despised outsider lik
1 Chambert to the front and makes mine
meat of his field. A very large incom
the unbounded confidence of employe
|. and of the public, might help to tuI
many heads just arrived at legal ma
hood, but Fred Archer quietly goes h
own way and studies diligently to ir
prove in his calling.
1t is about eleven years since his faith
brought Fred Archer to Mat ID ,wson's
launch him in his career. The lad wa
In Newmarket parlance, bred to rae
His father. Billy Archer, who won
/. Grand National on Little Charley, W
a well-known steeplechase rider, c
temporary of Tom Oliver and Jem NJ
son, and put the lad on horse almost
soon as he could walk. Billy Archer Ike
~ a hostelry very we'll KIN ,wn to the Il
generation of bunting men-to wit, t
Kings Arms at Prestbury, near Chelts
ham. From PIestbury sprang tie Archie
Il divers, Holman, Reeves and Jack Jon
II Little Freddy Archer soon learned to
ue like bird across country, and VIII
re- re- "quite baby" rode famous pony ca
nd ed Mossrose in tive races at Great NJ
'od yern, in which it may interest The back
Of of Archer's mounts to know that he
md not successful. Better luck attended
re, next venture, when he scored his II
en' win on Maid of Trent, pony belong
bic TO Mrs. Williams. Accustomed to n
tiy across country from the age of eig
on on young Archer attracted tho attention
III Mr.. Letenier, who at last recommend
him to 90 to Mat Dawson and try
- hand at the Legitimate" racing bnsine
= Freddy soon showed his superiority o
y the other boys by his pluck in mount
~ any kind of awkward horse and cling
10 his seat when he got there. ALLOW
to exhibit in public, he scored win
Athol Daisy at crooked-spired Ches'
rel field, and next rode his first winning n
on the flat under Jockey Club rules il
4 one-hundred pound plate at Newman
for his new emp p'oyer. HIS first gra
- handicap win was with Salvanos for
I'm Cesarewith, and he next succeeded p
llU Tom French as Lord Falmouths I
Jockey. He rode but six stone one pot