THE FATHERS OF BOOKMAKING 21 



but no proof was ever adduced against either, and the 

 mystery of Plenipo's Leger is still unsolved. 



Two years later even the astute Jemmy was caught at 

 last, and it is said that he dropped ;!^8o,ooo on Shillelagh. 

 The Duke of Cleveland — the Jesuit of the Turf, as his con- 

 temporaries dubbed him — was more than a match even for 

 the craftiest " legs," He vowed he would some day break 

 the ring, and he very nearly did it that year. It was a 

 solemn warning to Jemmy Bland, and he did not trouble 

 the race-course much afterwards. He died a rich man, 

 though nothing like as wealthy as was expected. 



An even greater celebrity of the betting ring than either 

 of these was William Crockford, " Old Crocky, the Father 

 of Hell and Hazard," who began life as a fishmonger under 

 the shadow of Temple Bar, and died proprietor of Crock- 

 ford's Club in St James's Street, the most magnificent 

 gambling palace in the world. It is probably as a hell- 

 keeper that Old Crocky is now best remembered, but in 

 his day he was as celebrated on the Turf as at the gaming- 

 table. 



Of the ring men, Crockford was the first to make himself 

 conspicuous, a head and shoulders above his associates. 

 Indeed, he may be taken as the prototype of all the great 

 Turf speculators since his day — Davis, the first " Leviathan," 

 Steel, Jackson, Fairfield, and others of the same kidney. 

 Many an envious eye followed " Old Crocky " as he drove on 

 to the course or along the streets in his gorgeous chariot 

 padded with down and silks, with the powdered flunkeys 

 behind ; and many an impecunious gentleman, as he looked 

 at Crockford's magnificent town mansion or thought of the 

 hell-keeper's noble country seat at Newmarket, felt that 

 there must be something wrong in a world which could 

 lavish its luxuries upon a low-born seller of fish who had 

 simply his luck to commend him. 



Here is a glimpse of him at Tattersalls sketched by a 

 clever hand : — 



" His cheeks appeared whitened and flabby through con- 

 stant night work. His hands were entirely without 

 knuckles, soft as raw veal and as white as paper, whilst his 

 large flexible mouth was stuffed with ' dead men's bones,' 



