Hermit

Hermit ch.c. 1864 (Newminster - Seclusion, by Tadmor). Sire Line Camel. Family 5-d.

When Hermit, as yet an unnamed dark chestnut colt, by Newminster out of Seclusion, entered the ring at the yearling sale of Mr. Blenkiron’s famous Middle Park Stud, the foundations were laid for one of the most romantic, yet tragic, episodes in the annals of the turf.

Under the hammer of Edmund Tattersall, Hermit was purchased by Captain Machell for 1000 guineas on behalf of Henry Chaplin, later Lord Chaplin. Chaplin, youthful beneficiary of an immense fortune, appeared determined to spend it in his pursuit of glory on the turf. The under bidder was Harry, Marquis of Hastings, Chaplin’s arch rival, who had an even greater fortune at his disposal. It is unlikely Hastings was disappointed at his loss; he could not have foreseen the fame Hermit was to achieve, nor the tragedy it was to bestow on him. Hasting's bid was perceived as an act of recklessness born out of his resentment of Chaplin, who had outwardly displayed little emotion to Hasting’s demeanour, despite the latter a year earlier, having absconded with Chaplin's fiancé, the desirable Florence Paget. (Rather than play the outraged party, Chaplin behaved with the utmost dignity, publicly appearing to be friends with Hastings).

By a strange coincidence, the very next yearling to enter the ring, Marksman, who was purchased by Mr. James Merry, also for 1000 guineas, was destined to be instrumental in Hermit’s fame.

It soon became clear that Hermit was a classy individual; not a big fellow, about 15.2 1/2, but with tremendous hindquarters. And so it was that in the December of his infancy he was tried over four furlongs up Bury Hill against Henry Chaplin’s own filly, Problem, also a Newminster, to whom he was conceding thirty-five pounds. He beat her by a couple of lengths, and the value of this performance was endorsed two-months later when Problem won the Brocklesby Stakes at Lincoln from a field of twenty-two runners.

Hermit’s first race as a two-year-old was a Sweepstakes at the Newmarket First Spring Meeting – incidentally the race before Lord Lyon was to win the Two Thousand Guineas, on his way to winning the Triple Crown. His fellow Middle Park inmate, Marksman, was also in the four-runner field. Hermit beat Marksman, but was himself beaten by a Newminster filly called Cellina. Just over two weeks later, he met Cellina again, in a half-mile Biennial at Bath, and on six pounds worse terms, beat her by a head. In the Woodcote Stakes at Epsom’s Derby meeting he was beaten three lengths by a very good filly in Achievement, a full sister to Lord Lyon, and in the opinion of many contemporary observers, far superior. She also beat Hermit on the only two other occasions they met. He won a Biennial Stakes at Ascot, and then two races at Stockbridge, on both occasions beating Vauban, who won seven of his fifteen races as a two-year-old. Vauban was a hardy fellow – but then, trained at Danebury, he had to be. The Days were not noted for treating their inmates with kid gloves. They either suffered and survived – or it was the glue factory.

Hermit was not entered for the Two Thousand Guineas, for which Vauban was made favourite at five-to-two and won by two lengths from Knight of the Garter and Marksman. Knight of the Garter was a stable companion of Hermit, and in a trial, with Hermit giving the former ten pounds over a mile and beating him, Captain Machell and George Bloss, Hermit’s devoted trainer, had every justification in believing they had nothing to fear in the Derby.

Henry Custance was engaged to ride Hermit, and ten days before the race went to Newmarket to ride him in a trial over a mile and a half alongside the Devil’s Dyke up to the Cambridge Road. The trial horse was the four-year-old, Rama, who the previous year had shattered the invincibility of Lord Lyon to the tune of eight lengths in the Doncaster Cup, albeit at an advantage of eleven pounds. The weights were arranged at sixteen pounds in Hermit’s favour. After they had gone a shade over a mile, Hermit was pulling Custance out of the saddle. Then suddenly he gave a tremendous cough and almost collapsed in his stride. Blood streamed from a broken blood vessel in his nose, smothering Custance in the process. They walked him back across to the Birdcage, cleaned his nose and mouth and, exercising discretion, took him the back way home to Bedford Cottage. But unfortunately Hermit’s mishap had been seen, and the news spread through Newmarket like the plague.

When Custance delivered the letter from Captain Machell to Chaplin, explaining the incident, the blood must have drained from the latter’s face. Hastings had been backing against Chaplin's horse all winter. This was now rubbing salt into the wound. His immediate reaction was to scratch his horse, but was persuaded otherwise – no doubt on account of the large amount of money Captain Machell had bet on him. In the meantime, Mr. Pryor, owner of The Rake, a much-fancied candidate, who the previous year had won the Middle Park Plate, beating Achievement by three lengths, requested Chaplin to release Custance, which Chaplin eventually agreed to, on the grounds that he did not wish to deprive Custance of winning the race.

When the news broke on the Friday before the great race, that The Rake, too, had broken a blood vessel, it would not have been unreasonable to infer that the plot was developing in to one of stranger than fiction. Whether this was a serious situation or not, Mr. Pryor and Dawson, The Rakes’s trainer, were in no mood to scratch their horse, and he was duly sent to Epsom for his final gallop, the day before the race; whereupon, Custance declared him the worst Derby horse he had ever ridden.

Meantime Captain Machell and Bloss appeared to have worked a miracle on Hermit. After his disappointing trial on The Rake, Custance caught sight of Hermit doing his final trial. He records that coming round Tattenham Corner Hermit got the best of the lad on him, fairly ran away with him, and the ground being as hard as iron, he bounded over it like a cricket-ball. The trial convinced Machell that he should run Hermit, and he suggested to Chaplin that he should reclaim Custance. But having secured his man, Pryor was in no mind to release him. Chaplin took the matter to the Stewards, who decided that although his letter had constituted a release, Mr. Pryor should waive his right, as both horses had broken a blood vessel. But Mr. Pryor was unrelenting; Custance was left on The Rake, who ran exactly as Custance had expected him to.

The weather on Derby Day was atrocious. Sleet and snow swept across the downs; the dispirited crowd, in complete contrast to the general gaiety one would expect at this event on a normal summer’s day, were sheltering beneath their umbrellas, huddled together to seek refuge from the biting winds.

In the ring, bookmakers were being far from generous; Vauban was at no more than 6-to-4, with Hermit being laid at between 66-to-1 and 100-to-1. The Palmer, Van Amburgh, The Rake, and Marksman were the only other runners considered to be a serious threat to the Danebury favourite.

Few of the runners appeared to be enjoying the proceedings as they paraded in the paddock, and poor Hermit, his head hung almost in shame, was a picture of misery. One observer was heard to comment that Hermit would not fetch £15 at a fair!

This aside, there were other problems for Chaplin and Machell, as Hermit was still without a jockey, and at this late stage it seemed unlikely that one of experience would be found. At the suggestion of Lord Coventry, a young Newmarket lad, John Daley, was engaged. He was only twenty, and the son of a trainer, but was far from being a fashionable jockey. Machell instructed Daley on the tactics he should pursue, emphasising Hermit had abundant stamina and good finishing speed, but should be handled delicately, and if he showed any signs of breaking a blood vessel, he should be pulled-up. All being well, Machell assured him that Hermit would give of his best.

The terms on which Machell engaged Daley were £100 for the ride, £100 if he was placed and £3000 should he win. Daley could scarcely believe his good fortune. He had arrived at Epsom engaged for only one ride, on Baron Rothchild’s filly, Hippia, in the Oaks. But suddenly he found himself in a position that could assure him of financial security for life.

The enforced choice of Daley over Custance may have been a blessing in disguise. Hermit had shown in his trials his willingness to respond to a lad, in preference to the more aggressive handling of Custance. Daley, gentler in approach, although probably a trifle inhibited by his enormous but potentially rewarding task, was able to convey to his sensitive steed, a spirit that would give him a willingness to run for his life.

Snow and sleet were still whistling across the Downs as the runners assembled at the start. To compound the discomfort of the crowd there were ten false starts causing an interminable delay. Edwards struggled vainly with D’Estournel but the beast refused to come into line.

At the eleventh attempt they were away, with the favourite Vauban towing them up the hill towards Tattenham Corner, and the fussing D’Estournel left at the post. As the rainbow coloured field wheeled round Tattenham Corner, through the gloom it was Danebury’s Vauban who led from Wild Moor, Marksman and Julius. Hermit was in the middle division behind The Rake, Van Amburgh, Corporal and The Palmer. As they turned into the straight Julius and The Rake were beaten. Two furlongs out the leaders were Marksman, Van Amburgh and Vauban, but a groan went up from the crowd as Fordham, on the favourite, went for his whip.

Below the distance Van Amburgh was a spent force, and as Grimshaw drove Marksman into the lead it looked odds on him gaining victory. It was here that Daley launched his attack. There was no need for Hermit to feel the sting of Daley’s whip, or the prick of his spurs. Obeying his instructions to the letter, his tactful request summoned the required response from Hermit’s weakened body. He swept past Vauban as if the latter had been pulling a plough. He closed on Marksman, and as the two met the rising ground it could not be denied that Hermit and Marksman, almost locked together, fought out the finish with gladiatorial courage. Daley, probably riding the race of his life, somehow managed to summon one final effort from Hermit, and in those last few strides of this sensational race he was in front. The winning distance – a neck.

Chaplin, overwhelmed, led the victorious Hermit into the unsaddling enclosure. It was a moment to treasure: a moment that all Chaplin’s wealth could not have secured for him. He had just won the best part of £120,000, but it did not compare with victory in the race itself. In a shade under three minutes Hermit had achieved immortality and Chaplin would be inextricably linked with winning the world’s greatest race. Daley, still not believing his good fortune, slipped the saddle from Hermit’s back, and Hermit stood there trembling, his body steaming in the cold May air, his lungs still burning from that final rush to the line.

As the well wishers gathered round to congratulate Chaplin, Hastings, displaying great magnanimity, pushed his way through the crowd to offer his congratulations. "A great horse," he said, as he slapped the victorious Hermit’s neck. "A truly great horse."

Hastings had lost an amount similar to that which Chaplin had won. But Hermit’s victory was only contributory to the final tragedy. The defeat the following year of his peerless filly, Lady Elizabeth, in the Derby and the Oaks – probably the result, of her thirteen races (twelve of which she won) as a two-year-old – was the final straw. His reckless gambling and remarkably extravagant lifestyle ensured an untimely end. He died in November of that year – just twenty-six years old. His final whispered words: "Hermit broke my heart, but I did not show it, did I," are immortalised as much as Hermit’s victory itself.

That week was the pinnacle of Daley’s career. On the Friday he won the Oaks on Hippia, beating the favourite Achievement. But as fortune would have it, he never won another classic.

Hermit next won a Biennial Stakes and the St. James’s Palace Stakes at Ascot, beating Julius and The Palmer, both of whom had finished behind him at Epsom, but was beaten a length by Achievement in the St. Leger. Two days later she beat him again in the Doncaster Cup; and on the same afternoon he was turned out again, and won a Sweepstakes over the St. Leger course, a feat that would be unheard of, or even expected, today.

In the autumn of Hermit’s year Julius, whom some pundits thought the better horse (which was surprising in view of Hermit having already beaten him four times) won the Cesarewitch, and a match was set up over the Two Middle Miles at the following year’s Newmarket First Spring Meeting. Both were first engaged in a Biennial Stakes at the Newmarket Craven Meeting. As a penalty for winning the Derby, Hermit was set to give Julius seven pounds. It was a tremendous race. Fifty yards from the line it looked as if Hermit was going to win, but as Custance recalls: "He just curled up. I don’t mean he cut it like a rouge, but ran just as if he felt something was going to happen; and I always believe it was the fear of breaking another blood vessel."

It now looked good odds on Hermit reversing this result with Julius for the match, as it was now Hermit who had a pull in the weights. But Julius won the match easily by two lengths, which showed how Hermit had adversely responded to the effects of two weeks of hard training, whilst Julius had prospered.

For all his great courage, he was undoubtedly a delicate horse, and the style of training and racing that he was subjected to may not have been conducive to his constitution. In hindsight it may have been his enforced rest that enabled him to run such a tremendous race in the Derby. Later experience showed that most of the "Newminsters" suffered if the slightest bit overworked.

There is little doubt that Hermit’s subsequent performances were disappointing, and although kept in training until he was five, he never again matched the greatest day of his life, on that bitterly cold day in May 1867. But Hermit showed that the form had not been all wrong as he galloped to victory over Epsom’s asphodel. And when he retired to stud at Blankney, initially for the princely sum of twenty guineas, he sired enough winners to be considered a Prince amongst stallions. He was Champion Sire six seasons in succession, and when he died, at the age of twenty-six, his offspring had won 846 races worth over £350,000.