I remember Lester Piggott. That's hardly a revelation though is it? Most of us racing fans know something of the bloke known as the "Long Fellow." At the height of his illustrious career, he was considered by a great many people, to be probably the best rider ever seen. It's a huge claim, but it's one we've all heard before. These sort of accolades are thrown up every now and then, whenever a someone rises well above the heap. We hear it today. I've seen it written by some of the learned folk who regularly haunt this site, that Anthony Peter McCoy is a one off. Others are of the persuasion that one Rupert Walsh is a better horseman. I make no claim either way. Nor will I try to place Piggott above his predecessor Sir Gordon Richards, as the greatest rider of all time. There is no point, it's all subjective opinion. Lester Piggott is probably more popular at the moment because his achievements are a lot closer to the here and now. Time, for the most part, is the killer of past deeds. Richards in his day was peerless in the eyes of the racing fan. But as the years have rolled by, his flaming star has dimmed to the point where it's now little more than a warm glow. The same can be said of another legend of the saddle, Frederick James Archer. Born January 11, 1857, he was the product of the the handy hunt rider William Archer, who managed to win the Grand National on Little Charlie, a year after the presentation of his son. It wasn't long before young Fred found his way into the racing scene. At the tender age of 11, he was given work at Newmarket, where he undertook duties as an apprentice to trainer Mathew Dawson. He cracked the big time at just 14 when he won the first of his 2 Cesarewitchs. In a career that spanned some 8084 rides, he won an amazing 2748 times; a winner in less than every 3 rides. Among his other top wins: Derby 5, St. Leger 6, Two Thousand Guineas 4, One Thousand Guineas 2, Grand Prize of Paris 3, French Derby 2, Woodcote Stakes 6, Clearwell Stakes 8, Middle Park Plate 3, Dewhurst Plate 5, Ascot Stakes 1, Prince of Wales of Stakes 3, Alexandra Plate 3, Goodwood Steward's Cup 3, Great Ebor 2, Champagne Stakes 7. The list seems endless. When it came to punching home a horse, Fred was the be all and end all of racing. But as we're all fully aware, life entails more than just the interests pertaining to the sport of kings. Fred Archer's life was anything but ideal. Being better than 5 feet 10, he had a constant battle to keep his weight at 8 stone 6. Fasting, sweats and daily purgatives were the norm. Whether it affected his personality, nobody knows, but he was a dour man. Always polite, but usually reserved. He was not uncaring. His good deeds were many, and done without the need of attention. But tragedy clung to his coat tails. His brother Charley was killed in a racing accident, and his young wife, of less than two years, died giving birth to a son who also passed away in the process. In early November of 1886, Fred seemed his usual self when riding at Brighton, as he was again at Cambusmore the next day. Come Thursday however, he appeared unwell at Lewes, so much so, that he had to stand down from some engagements. On being escorted home, he declined medical help. The next morning, his condition deteriorated to a point where a Dr. Wright was called to his bedside. On inspection, the Dr. immediately called for a second opinion. From that Friday, through Saturday, to Sunday morning, his health took a serious downturn. On the Monday morning the doctors released a statement advising that Fred Archer was suffering from an attack of Typhoid Fever. He was delirious. At 2 pm that afternoon, Fred's nurse advised the jockey's sister, Emily Coleman, that he wanted to speak with her alone. Upon entering the room, Emily made small chat. She was asked by Fred to go to the window. As she did, she heard a sound behind her. On turning, Emily found that Fred had left the bed and was in possession of a hand gun. She immediately rushed across the room and tried to lay a hand on the pistol. But Fred was too strong for her. He put Emily in a headlock, and with his free hand, shot himself in the face. The bullet exited at the base of his skull, severing the spinal chord. He instantly died. As was the custom of the day, the burial was a men only affair. The grieving women stayed at Fred Archer's home. The weather played its part in the solemn affair. It was as though the heavens wept for the occasion. Borne from a carriage completely covered with flowers, by eight pallbearers, Fred was taken to the graveside. It was nine feet deep, the bottom two of which was bricked in white. It was eight feet long and three feet wide, the sides of which were lined with floral offerings. The ground could not be seen. In a polished oak casket, Frederick James Archer, aged just 29, was lowered into his final resting place.
Good read Cyc A tragic end to a supreme jockey. And a reminder, as if we needed it, that tragedy often walks hand-in-hand with genius.
Good morning, Cyclonic. Good read! I nearly did one on Fred myself once, but it would have been two "sad ones" running. Obviously one hell of a jockey, but what a prematurely sad end to a gloriously successful career!
Nice story. I remember seeing something similar a short while ago, Cyc is this a repeat of something you've already posted ?
No Grizz. After posting it, I saw that Princess pointed out an article in a newspaper on him. I got my stuff from some papers written at the time, which included the coroners report. Nothing wrong with a walk on the melancholy side Tam
It might be my imagination here Epona, but knowing what a tragic life he lead, I can't help but feel that I can see a hint of pain in his face.
Great stuff cyclonic. The book on Archer, by John Welcome I think, is well worth a read. The man who claimed to be the last man alive to ride against Archer lived in Lambourn and passed away in 1965. His name was Jimmy Rhodes - he was 95 when he died and rode against Archer when aged just 14. So although it seems a vast amount of time ago there was someone who competed against the great man who was still around during at least some of our lifetimes.
Nice article Cyc. There are those that claim Fred Archer's ghost still rides around Newmarket, though I've never seen/heard him myself. Sadly his grave in Newmarket Cemetary is apparently in a bit of a state, you would think the powers that be would pay someone to keep it clean and tidy. If ever anyone is racing in Newmarket, they can quite easily pop in to see Fred - the cemetary is more or less across the road from the entrance to The Rowley Mile.
That's a top idea Princess. It is a real shame that his grave is neglected. Fred Archer is an all time great, a true legend of world racing.
