Public ledger. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1865-1893, 1881-12-06
RISKS OF RIDING RACES.
Jockeys Raced to Their eraver.

Jockeys Raced to Their Graveg.
London Telegraph, Nov. Ill
There are few spots more attractive
to the Old Mortalities of the turf than
the graveyards at Newmarket, and a
man who is well acquainted with the
history Of horse racing may wander
at will through the precincts of All
Saints Church, and through the new
cemetery at the top of "the little town
in Cambridgeshire," without ever
coming across the grave Of Jockey
who has died a violent death in pur
suit of his profession. There will he
find stone after stone which records
that beneath lie the remains Of jockeys
who have gone to their final rest in
the course Of ma ure, and often in the
fullness of years. Less than twenty
miles away the body Of Frank Buck
ley lies entombed at Long Orton, near
Peterborough, suggesting the thought
that, as man and boy, he followed his
profession actively for ffty years,
without ever sustaining an accident of
any kind, and that, taken altogether.
his was the finest and least mercensry
character that ever DISTINGUISHED
member of his craft. Reverting to
Newmarket, we shall find that in the
churehyard Of All Saints repose tie
ashes of Elnathan Flatman, who won
the Derby on Orlando, the st Leg
on Surplice, Warlock, and lmperieuse
and the two thousand guineas on Idas,
Hernandez and Fazzoletto, without
ever sustaining an accident in the SAD.
die. The only casualty which ever
befell him during riding career Of 40
years was from a kick in the ribs
which he received in the stable from
filly belonging to the late Duke Of
Bedford. By his side lies his great
antagonist, and his superior asam itch
rider, Frank Butler, who steered two
winners of the Derby, two Of the st.
Leger, and two of the Two Thousand
Guineas to victory, without expert.
encing any mishap. One narrow es.
cape from death or disability, it is
true,H be was fortunate enough to
emerge from without broken limbs,
when in the Derby Of lS45, which was
won by Merry Monarch, be bestrode
Lord Chesterfeld's Pam, and was
capsized by Mentor, as the field Of 81
horses swept round Tattanham Cor
ner. There was no story which Frank
Butler was more fond Of relat-
ing than that in which
he described how he was
struggling with his PROSTATE horse,
and how he escaped from seemingly
inevitable death, or, at any rate, from
the fracture of a limb, by the lucky
circumstance that Old England and
Weatherbit leapt over him and his
horse as they lay on the ground amidst
the laundering turmoil Of hoofs by
which they were surrounded. Close
to the grave of Flatman is that of
Patrick Uonolly,who rode Plenipoten-
tiary and Coronation in their respective
Derbies, and completed his career
without accident. In the cemetery at
the top. Of the town lies Tom French,
the rider of Kingcraft and Favonius
in the great race at EPSON, who sub
sequently capitulsted to an enemy
against whom neither jockeys nor or
dinary men are proof-tubecular con-
sumption. Hard by rests all that is
mortal of Jem Robinson, one of the |
most finished and accomplished horse
men that were ever tossed into the |
saddle, who died in ripe old age, hav-
ing ridden for the greater part of a
long life time without sustaining an
accident until he fell and broke his
thigh, his stirrup leather having given
away. from a colt belonging to the late
Lord Clifden.
Turning to the North of England,
we come across the graves of jockeys
without number who had no reason to
speak of their calling as specially full
of peril. In the sporting county OF
York, Bill Scott, who rode nine st.
Leger and four Derby winners without
disaster, lies 10 his narrow bed, to
which au inordinate love of the bottle
rather than the perils Of the race
course prematurely consigned him. In
the neighborhood of Middleham are
the graves Of Tommy Lye and of Job
Marson, who will live in Turf history
so long as the racing animals of the |
nineteenth century shall continue to
find a chronicler; while in the East |
Riding Sim Templeman, who rode his !
first race more than fifty years since,
ard won his first Derby upon Blooms |
bury in 1899, still survives, a hale
and hearty veteran, though be !
reft of sight. Time has also |
spared Charles MARROW, insepara
bly, identified with memories OF the |
Flying Dutchman, but doomed like
many others of his craft, to pass
his declining years ia abjeet |
poverty. The only jockey con
nected with Yorkshire who was ia.
simultaneously killed by being precipi-
tated from his horse when riding a |
race at Hull was one long forgotten !
by the present generation of Turf
habitues, if, indeed, his name-George |
Herring-has ever been heard by !
them. At the commencement Of 1867 !
Samuel Chifney died in great distress
at his lodgings in Fleet-lane, within
the rules of the adjoining prison,
which has long passed away. Al
though, in the opinion of his contem-
poraries, he had no equal in the pig
skin, his nerve was notoriously def
cient, nor would he have ridden for so
many years had he deemed lhe profes-
sion of which he was so successful
member specially obnoxious to risk.