18 SPORTING STORIES 



But the first two decades of the nineteenth century pro- 

 duced the real fathers of the Betting Ring and inventors 

 of the art of bookmaking — "Crutch" Robinson, Jem 

 Bland, Jerry Cloves, Myers Richards, Mat Milton, Tommy 

 Swan of Bedale, John Justice, John Gully, and WiUiam 

 Crockford. 



For the most part the early bookmakers were a low type 

 of horsey men, who had originally been grooms and 

 hangers about racing stables. Many of them could not 

 write their own names or read even the contents of a race- 

 card. But if they could neither read nor write they could 

 " soom " (as a celebrated Yorkshire sportsman used to say) 

 against anyone, and their feats in mental arithmetic were 

 marvellous. 



Let us take a glance at some of the most notable among 

 them. First and foremost comes old " Crutch " Robinson — 

 a little, shrewd, wizened-faced man, whose coat hung on 

 his back like a towel on a rail, a queer, uncouth-looking 

 creature, who spoke a dialect which seemed a cross between 

 Lancashire and Yorkshire, but withal a straightforward 

 man and as sharp as they make them. That his origin 

 was of the lowest there could be no doubt, and there 

 was a tradition that he had been a stable-boy somewhere, 

 and that his lameness, which necessitated the use of the 

 crutch from which he gained his nickname, arose from 

 injuries inflicted by the kick of a horse. 



It was at Doncaster, perhaps, that old " Crutch " was 

 seen in his glory, though Newmarket too knew him well. 

 In the long room of the Salutation, or sitting at the horse- 

 block, on the St Leger eve, flinging his chaff right and left, 

 but watching the market with the eye of a hawk, " Crutch " 

 Robinson held a unique place among the sporting characters 

 of the first half of the nineteenth century. His antipathy 

 to favourites was notorious. The hotter the favourite the 

 fiercer was "Crutch's" antagonism. If anyone said that a 

 horse was either dead amiss or fit to run for a man's life, 

 he never believed it ; and he was equally sceptical about 

 the alleged wonderful doings of great cracks in private. 

 " Nar, nar. Thou knawest a great deal about it, I dar 

 say," was his stereotyped reply when he was told of a 



