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SWYNFORDS GREAT CAREER . Interesting Details in Connection With Bacing of Great Horses. His Memorable Battles with, the Smasher Lemberg Saved for Stud After a Tragic Accident. The following account of Swynford and his great rival, Lemberg, is reprinted from the new series of reminiscences by the Hon. George Lambton, the noted English trainer, now appearing in the London "Weekly Dis-. patch: I think that if you could see most great race horses three days after they were foaled you would say, if you were a fair judge of a horse, that they were likely to be something out of the common. In 1907 Canterbury Pilgrim dropped a magnificent brown colt by John OGaunt. In those days I was more confident and optimistic than I am now, and I felt certain that this grand colt, with ancestors like Pilgrimage, Isinglass and La Fleche close up in his pedigree, would develop into a great horse. It was fortunate that Ihad this idea firmly rooted in my head, for a more disappointing horse in his early career was never foaled. As a yearling Swynford, as they named him, grew into a great, plain, rather flat-sided colt, but he had a big, lean, game head, good legs and feet, and when he chose to extend himself he was a fine galloper. When he came into training he certainly was an ugly customer. He had led the hard and simple life, running out in a paddock day and night, and had little flesli cn him. He was, as the expression goes, "all legs and wings," but when the breaking tackle was put on he soon showed that he was as strong as a bull and full of courage, though at the same time gdbd tempered. DEVELOPS SLOWLY. Naturally he was given plenty of time to develop, and it was not till July that he was ready to have a tough gallop. Danny Maher and Fred Rickaby, who liked to ride him in his work, both had a tremendous opinion of him. His first gallop was with a sharp sprinter of Lord Derbys called "Well Done. I wanted to gallop him at ten pounds with the old horse, but Danny Maher declared he "would eat him" if he did not beat "Well Done at even weights, so they were tried like this. Swynford, like his dam, was a hard puller and, speedy as Well Done was, the two-year-old jumped off like a whirlwind and had him beaten in the first three furlongs. This pleased us greatly, and it was decided that he should make his debut in the Exeter Stakes at the first July meeting at Newmarket. The race was six furlongs, which frightened me, but Danny saM he would be able to drop him in behind and come with one run. Nothing of this sort happened, however, for going out of the gate like a otone from a catapult he to.ik charge of Danny and ran himself to a standstill before he had gone five furlongs. I was never moie disappointed in all my life. OUT FOB THE SEASON. After this he threw out the worst thoro-pin I ever saw. We had a great deal of trouble with it, and he did not run again as a two-year-old. This was probably a blessing in disguise. All the winter he did well and just before the Craven week the following year I was confident that I had a good horse. The first gallop I gave him was on The Limekilns against some moderate horses at even weights, and I expected him to win it without an effort. My readers can imagine my disgust when, after making hot running for six furlongs, he stopped to nothing and "began to roll about like a ship in distress. The worst of it was that he had done more work than any horse in my stable. I gave him another gallop about ten days later, with exactly the same result, but after both of these gallops he came home quite pleased with himself, ate up, and was ready for anything the next day. This gave me hopes that he might improve, and in spite of his bad performances I could not bring myself to believe that he was really a bad horse. He had speed and, bred as he was, how could it be possible that he would not stay? He was a delightful horse to train, a good doer in the stable, quiet and sensible out of it, and, although he would pull hard when upsides with an-otner horse, he would follow one at any pace you wanted. GOOD TRIAL FOE DEBBY. Ten days before tlje Derby he, for the first time that year, put up a good gallop. Instead of stopping after three-quarters he galloped on remorselessly until the horses that were with him were all stone cold. So I told Lord Derby that if he liked to run the horse at Epsom he would not disgrace him. That year there were two good three-year-old colts, Lord Roseberys Neil Gow and Mr. Fames Lemberg. Neil Gow was a beautiful bloodlike chestnut horse by Marco Chelandry, impossible to fault except for his rather weak hocks. He had been a brilliant two-year-old and had carried all before him, but he was a wayward, bad-tempered customer, and troublesome at the gate. He had been beaten in both his first two races because he was away badly. Danny Maher had always ridden him and was engaged to ride him as a three-year-old. Trained by Percy Peck at Exning.near Newmarket, he gave his trainer many anxious moments, for on some days he was almost unmanageable. Lemberg, by Cyllene Galicia, trained by Alec Taylor, was half-brother to Bayardo. In many ways he was better looking than that great horse and showed more bloodlike quality, but curiously enough, his weak spot was also in his hocks. He, too, had been a smashing good horse as a two-year-old, winning six races out of seven, his only defeat being in the Champagne Stakes, when he was a moderate third to Neil Gow. But it was evident that on this occasion he did jiot run up to his proper form. His first appearance as a three-year-old was in the Two Thousand, whereas, Neil Gow had already been out and had won the Craven Stakes in a canter by three lengths. The rivalry between these champions of Newmarket and the country stables reminded me of the old days of Minting and Ormonde. There was a good field for the Two Thousand, and no horses ever started for it in more beautiful condition than Lemberg and Neil Gow. Another lovely horse in the race was the American Whisk Broom II., owned by H. P. Whitney and trained by Andrew Joyner. I went some way down the course to see the race, and it was indeed one worth seeing. Coming into the dip Lemberg, which was ridden by Dillon, and Neil Gow were close together on the stand side, and after Whisk Broom II. had made a bold show they singled themselves out from the rest of the field, Lemberk with a trifling advantage. Then Danny sat down to ride with that confidence and determination that will not be beaten. Leaning over the rails close to the struggling pair I could see the jockeys desperate faces, the horses with their ears flat back on their heads, both running as true as steel ; it was a great sight. The last two hundred yards I looked at them from behind. Although close together, neither horse swerved or flinched. Dillon hit his horse oftener than Maher, but the latter when he did use his whip did so exactly at the right moment, and Neil Gow won by a short head. It was the riding that did it, though I must say that Dillon rode the race of his life that day, and it was hard lines for him and Lemberg to have Maher to beat. So fierce was the struggle that I remember wondering if either of the horses would ever forget the race. I have lately heard and read that racing is no real test of the value of the thoroughbred horse, but where could you find any animal except a horse show the gameness and pluck of these two beautiful and highly strung horses, for later in the year they met again in the Eclipse Stakes at the same weights and with the same jockeys. I did not see the race, but after a magnificent struggle it ended in a dead heat. There is a case of consistency for you! NEIL GOW NOT AT HIS BEST. All this has carried me a long way from Swynford and the Derby. Before that race Neil Gow had been giving Percy Peck a lot of troi;ble with one of his hocks and was not at his best, so Lemberg started a hot favorite at 7 to 4. He won cleverly by a neck from Lord Jerseys Greenback. At one time during the race he had looked like winning in a canter, but in the last hundred yards I thought ho was tiring pretty quickly. Swynford was again a disappointment, for he made no show, but there was a good excuse for him, as he was badly struck into. The skin was taken clean off the back of his leg from his hock to his fetlock joint, and it was the nearest thing in the world that he was not ruined for life. I took him to the late Mr. John Coleman, the Epsom veterinary surgeon, who treated him with great skill and soon had him quite all right again. Swynford at this time had a nasty habit of just brushing the inside of his off joint, which caused me a lot of anxiety. He had big feet, and nothing we could do would stop this until I happened to mention it to Mr. Lynwood Palmer, the celebrated horse painter, who was at Newmarket just then. He said he thought he could stop it, although the treatment of the near foot would be drastic. PALMEBS SKILLFUL WORK. Lynwood Palmer is the cleverest man with a horses foot I have ever come across, and, as he was confident that it could be done, I took the risk. It came off all right, and we had no further trouble. It was a curious tiling to find an artist with this great knowledge, and I asked him how he had acquired it He told me that as a young man he had been horsemaster to one of the biggest cab proprietors in New York. His salary depended upon the work the horses did, and he found out that about eight in ten of them were lame. Consequently he made a great study of this and, being a clever man, with the sensitive touch and fingers of an artist, he could use his knife on a horses foot better than any man I have ever met Ever since those days he has been in charge of that department in my stable. So well did Swynford do in a gallop before Ascot that I told Lord Derby and his friends it would take Lemberg all his time to beat him in the St James Palace Stakes. But again he disappointed us and finished third after rolling all over the course when he came around the turn. I felt a considerable fool after the race, and I think everyone gave up the horse except Frank Wootton, who was then Lord Derbys first jockey, and myself. WINS UNIMPBESSIVELY. We brought him out again for the Hard-wicke Stakes on the Friday. He won cleverly, but I must own his performance was not encouraging, for although he was in receipt of a lot of weight he just barely wen, and my confidence in him was much shaken. After Ascot he had a short rest, and then I started to train him for the Liverpool Summer Cup. So well did he go in his work that we set him a pretty hard task in his trial, making him give fourteen pounds to the useful three-year-old Decision, which had won the Ascot Derby and other good races. At last he did what was expected of him, for he galloped clean away from Decision and won by ten lengths. On this gallop the Liverpool Cup looked a certainty, but, as usual, there was one "if" in the proposition. He pulled so hard and carried his head so low that Frank Wootton was doubtful whether he could take him round those sharp turns. In the race, as scon as the gate Avent up he dashed off in front, and coming to the canal turn he was leading by ten lengths. Instead of going into the canal as we feared, he came round like a polo pony and won pulling up by a distance. Only once after this was he ever headed for a single stride in any race he ran for. . TRAINS WELL FOB ST. LEGEB. He did not run again before the St. Leger, and in his preparation for this race he seemed to go better in every trial. He wore out nearly all the horses in my stable. With his enormous stride and going wide behind ho was not a taking goer to look at. I told a friend of mine, Billy Keen, to back him for the St. Leger. He, thinking that I was probably prejudiced in my opinion, asked a trainer at Newmarket if he thought the horse had any chance of beating Lemberg. "Yes," was the reply, "he has a chance about the same as my hack would have." In the sale paddocks at Doncaster the day before the St Leger I told Danny Maher, who was riding Lemberg, that X thought I should beat him. He scoffed at the idea, saying: "No doubt yours is a good horse, but he is not the same class- as Lemberg." Skeets Martin, who was with us, remarked: "Well, Ive ridden one or two gallops behind Swynford and I should not like to be the horse to follow him for a mile and six furlongs at Doncaster, and you will be finding it out tomorrow!" Having an idea that Lemberg was not a great stayer I told Frank Wootton to make the pace as hot as he could from the start. In the race he had the field on the stretch in the first furlong. Coming to the Red House Danny moved up on Lemberg, but whenever he reached Swynfords quarters the latter put in some of his great big strides and went away again. Two furlongs from home Maher was following dead in his tracks. Although he was sitting still, so well did I know Dannys riding that I was certain his horse was tiring, and I said to Bob Vyner, who was beside me in the stand: "Ive got him, we shall win." Frank Wootton was but a boy at the time, riding 102 pounds, and by which time he was a passenger on Swynford, which was hanging away from the rails, where the Yorkshire crowd were shouting and waving their race cards according to their usual custom. There was plenty of room for Lemberg to come up on the inside had he been good enough, but he was not his bolt was shot. As it was Bronzino, a horse by Jimmy Rothschilds, came with a tremendous rush in the last hundred yards, nearly catching my horse on the post, but the head was the right way. You can see from the picture of the finish that the jockey was far more beat than the horse, but it was a marvelous performance for a boy of that weight to ride such a big heavy horse at all. His father, Dick Wootton, told me that the night after the race Frank kept talking in his sleep and crying out: "I wont let you up Danny, you shant get up." My description of this race I know entirely differs from what was the general opinion. This was that Maher rode a shocking race and ought to have won. I have heard it said, and often seen it in print but I firmly believe my view to be the true one. I think there are few people who realize when watching a race what a dangerous sign it is when the critical moment the jockey is tc be seen sitting perfectly still on his horse. I have only seen it with really great jockeys, and I know that it generally means that their horse is dying away under them. I remember the day after that Maher told me that Lemberg would never beat Swynford in any race of that distance run at the pace the St. Leger was. In describing the race to me he said: "When I first went up to Swynford I did so easily, but he kept going away from me again, and each time I had to ask my horse to go after him the response was weaker, and a quarter from home I knew that unless an accident happened he had me beat" I have not spoken to "Skeets" Martin, Mahers great friend, on the -subject for years, but I believe he would bear me out in this. The performances of the two horses the following year bore out Mahers contention. In a slowly run race, the Coronation Cup at Epsom, Lemberg beat Swynford three parts of a length. Frank Wootton for the first and last time waited with the horse instead of letting him stride along, which, in my opinion, lost him the race. They met twice afterward, in the Princess of Wales Stakes at Newmarket and the Eclipse Stakes at Sandown, when Swynford made all the running and won easily. A TBAGIC ACCIDENT. Then came the tragedy which put an end to the racing career of this great horse. I was training him for the Jockey Club Stakes and one September morning, two days before the race, we were out on the July Course. Curiously enough that morning when riding out to exercise Frank had said to me, "Nobody knows how good this horse is now: I dont think there is anything he could not do from five-eighths to live miles." Half an hour afterward he smashed his fetlock joint to atoms in a steady half-speed gallop. "I shall never forget that morning. There were only two horses in the gallop, and they had to pass a haystack which hid them from view for a moment or two. I watched them go behind it and then only one horse came on. I galloped straight down and found Swynford standing on three legs. It was an hour and a half before we could get Mr. Livock, the veterinary surgeon, and an ambulance, and then it was nearly an hour before we could get the horse into it The task of getting such a great big horse out of it on three legs seemed impossible, and it was a wonderful piece of work on the part of Mr. Livock to accomplish it Personally, I had never spent a worse day in my life. Swynford was a marvelous patient and, thanks to this and chiefly to Livocks wonderful skill and care, he was saved for the stud.
