Paladin’s war: the story of a wartime favourite
A limited racing calendar offered respite from the grim realities of World War II. And Paladin became a nation’s unlikely hero
Ed Seyfried explains how a racehorse became a national hero
By the 1930s, the Holbech clan had lived in Warwickshire for more than 700 years. Ronald Holbech was director of Banbury brewers Hunt Edmunds and active on the board of Banbury hospital (where the children’s ward is still named after him). He was also an alderman for the County of Warwick.
A family gambler had lost the Canalettos, a Panini, and most of the money, but Ronnie Holbech, necessarily careful with cash, was a racing man. He stewarded at Towcester, Stratford, Warwick, Worcester and Cheltenham. He was also an owner and dreamed, as they all do, of winning the Cheltenham Gold Cup. His silks were designed to symbolise the gilded froth effervescing up and over a pint of Hunt Edmunds Supreme Pale Ale: old gold, with a white belt and cap.
Paladin was black. He had won four out of eight races in 1937, becoming a favourite of the punting public. After war was declared his Edgerton House Stables were taken over by the Army. With nowhere to go, 10 geldings were shot. Paladin was sent to the
November sales, where Holbech bought him for 125 guineas. Paladin’s first engagement was to have been at Leicester in January 1940, however the Thames froze, for the first time since 1888, and all sport was cancelled. There was no let up until Newbury on 21 February.
Anecdotally, the rider of the first to finish in the United Services Handicap Chase that day was disqualified after an objection from the owners of the fourth, on the basis that he was not a commissioned officer. Accordingly, the race was awarded to the second, Tetray, ridden by the amateur Lieutenant IK (Kim) Muir (10th Hussars).
Paladin’s first actual run for Holbech was at Ludlow on 29 February. He came third at 8/1, beaten a short head and a length. So pleased was Holbech that he thought of chucking him into the two mile Broadway Novices Steeplechase, the second race on the Cheltenham Festival’s reduced ‘wartime’ card. In the event, 27 ran but Paladin was not one of them.
Ronnie opted for a less glamorous race at Hereford on 26 March, where Paladin was beaten a length.
The Jockey Club had been encouraged to hold meetings in geographical clusters, to save resources and minimise traffic. For the same reason, horses were to be ridden rather than driven between meetings, if possible. It’s unlikely that Paladin walked to Bangor-on-dee for the gathering on 13 April 1940, but not impossible. A drop in class into an easier contest, in this case a race for military riders (open to all ranks), might prove a useful confidence booster. Backed in to 5/1, he cruised up, winning by four lengths. He had now lost his novice status. In the following season, he would have to tough it out in more experienced company.
Next up, two weeks later, was what would in normal times have been Stratford’s showcase meeting. Paladin had now eased into the vision of some racing hacks. The Manchester Evening News tipped him. In a punishing day for punters, every favourite was defeated across eight races. In The Shottery Chase, the 11/8 market leader was comprehensively vanquished by six
lengths – by 9/2 shot Paladin. It was backto-back victories for Paladin.
Rather than heading home, Holbech and Paladin struck westwards into the Welsh Marches, to the last ever meeting at Oswestry & Llanymynec, where he came third. Five days later on 9 May, when Paladin was entered in a two mile chase at the now defunct racecourse at Woore in Cheshire, Chamberlain resigned as Prime Minister.
RACING SUSPENDED
The next day Germany invaded the Low Countries. Churchill’s coalition started with purpose: it cancelled the Whitsun Bank Holiday and all racing was suspended.
Despite the looming disaster, the Home Office consented for the meeting at Manchester on 18 May to go ahead. Newspaper editorials and correspondents went into a frenzy. Chamberlain doves in The Times criticised any activity not deemed to be helping the war effort. AB Clements, editor of Sporting Life, condemned those who signalled “virtuous wrath” and leveraged the war to prohibit “those things of which they do not approve”.
Five days later, the Gloucester Citizen devoted page one to the campaign in France and Belgium. It reported that the British Expeditionary Force had been engaged in fierce fighting near Arras and had successfully withstood the German onslaught, whilst the French forces were fighting with ‘the greatest violence’ in the outskirts of Cambrai. The paper also reported that Paladin had won the two mile Tenbury Chase at 4/1.
On 26 May, the order was given for the evacuation of British and French forces from Dunkirk. Special trains were laid on to convey evacuees arriving in their hundreds of thousands. Nevertheless, the late May meetings at Bath and Salisbury went ahead and racegoers mixed with weary soldiers. Even the 3 June meeting at Lewes, on the penultimate day of the evacuation, was allowed to go on. The Duke of Norfolk disembarked with his Royal Sussex Regiment, made his way to the course and wound down by watching his wife’s horse run in the Berwick Plate. News then filtered through that Kim Muir had been shot dead by a burst of German machine gunfire whilst trying to rescue his badly injured troop sergeant.
The Cheltenham Festival each year has on its card The Fulke Walwyn Kim Muir Challenge Cup for amateur riders. Established in 1946 and originally called the Kim Muir Amateur Riders’ Steeplechase, it was introduced by Mrs Evan Williams and named in memory of her brother.
The 1940/41 National Hunt term started at Taunton on 24 October. An editorial in the Birmingham Post embraced its coming, stating: “Owners who support racing
The late May meetings went ahead, racegoers mixing with weary soldiers
under National Hunt rules take many risks. To the possibility of loss through fog, frost, floods, snow and fatal accident there has to be added in these days a restricted fixture list which may be further curtailed at the shortest notice.” The article went on to tip Mr JV Rank’s Timber Wolf, erstwhile winner of the Welsh Grand National, for the day’s most valuable race, the Somerset ’Chase, which, in the event, was won convincingly by Paladin, despite carrying top weight at 12st 7lb.
Commander-in-chief General Alan Brooke vehemently objected to the holding of race meetings, but in Sir John Anderson (he of the Anderson Shelter) and Field Marshal Sir John Dill, the new Chief of the Imperial General Staff, racing found a couple of friends. On 15 November, Dill and Anderson held a meeting and agreed on the fixtures. As racing historian and author John Savile identifies: “That a top cabinet minister and the wartime commander of an army of millions should solemnly sit down and discuss a few weeks’ jump racing fixtures seems absurd, but somehow characteristic of Britain at the time. Was it an example of such misguided priorities that we should wonder how Britain avoided defeat, or of a flexibility of approach that explains why we avoided it?”
A fixture took place at Cheltenham on 6 November. Paladin readily and once more defied top weight (12st 7lb) to win the season’s most eye-catching handicap thus far.
On 11 December, Cheltenham held another ‘wartime meeting’. The most valuable steeplechase of the day had attracted some of the best steeplechasers of the era. Luxborough made the early running whilst Paladin was held up. Approaching the last he made his move and pulled away to win by three lengths. This was Paladin’s fourth win ‘on the reel’ and now Fleet Street picked up on the Paladin phenomenon, its inky print sheets exclaiming that “smart young Paladin” was “one of the best chasers in training”; the Birmingham Post proudly claimed “the Warwickshire sportsman Mr RA Holbech” for the county.
By Christmas 1940, Paladin was the horse of the moment. He was given a full page spread in The Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News, which heralded him their 1941 Grand National choice.
At the Cheltenham meeting in mid-february, Paladin, favourite at 6/4, was strongly tipped to beat previous Gold Cup winner Roman Hackle, as well as Red Rower and Solarium, in a two mile handicap. But he wasn’t declared for the race. Possibly the opposition was considered too strong, or 12 stone over two miles was thought too much too soon, or perhaps there was a problem.
That year’s entries for the Festival were published and racecourse hacks started to devote column inches speculating about who might be the 1941 Gold Cup winner. But rumours were gathering that all was not well in the Holbech/paladin camp. On 5 March confirmation was issued that Paladin had been scratched from all engagements, including the Gold Cup. Paladin had ‘got a leg’. He had nearly a full year away from racing.
RETURN TO ACTION
Most of the significant flat action had taken place at Newmarket. When the season finished, Harry Wragg was proclaimed champion jockey. Wragg conveniently doubled as an anti-aircraft gunner for a battery stationed in East Anglia.
The next weekend jumping burst back into life. There was a well-attended meeting at Nottingham, leading to another at Worcester. At Cheltenham, a huge training feat was about to play out.
Paladin, carrying 11st 12lb, won the two mile Whaddon Optional Selling Chase. Also in the field was that year’s Gold Cup winner, Poet Prince, with Sable Marten the market leader at 6/5 on. While Poet Prince’s price drifted from 6/1 in the morning papers to 10/1, there had been money for Paladin, who had come in from 10/1 to 9/2. The Birmingham Post enthused that Sable Martin was ‘soundly beaten’ by a rival conceding 21lb.the excitement and hype started again: the London Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News reprinted its striking photograph and Tatler tipped Paladin for the 1942 Gold Cup.
Keeping Paladin sound was now proving hard work. The Festival was run over two consecutive Saturdays, with the Champion
Rumours were gathering that all was not well in the Holbech/paladin camp
Hurdle on the first and the Gold Cup the week following. Paladin was given a gallop after racing on the first Saturday and returned lame. For a second year it wasn’t to be.
The war was going badly. Benghazi was retaken at the end of January by counterattacking German and Italian troops and Singapore fell on 15 January. Allied shipping losses were increasing. In February, the basic petrol ration was reduced, then abolished. The movement of horses by rail was banned. A Home Office summary concluded: “even the National Hunt Committee seem to be a little lukewarm... on the whole the best course would be for steeplechasing to be suspended altogether.”
THE 1944 SEASON
It was not until 1944 that things changed. There was a government statement and, in November, a line-up was proposed. Within days, National Hunt horses were reappearing from the small holdings and farms where they had been sequestered.
On 6 January, a small crowd braved the elements at Cheltenham, with a number of old favourites and repurposed flat horses battling out over the Prestbury Park turf. Another meeting followed on 3 February. Two weeks later, 175 horses amassed at Windsor. Conditions were almost unraceable – or so thought Paladin, red hot 6/5 on favourite. In his first appearance on a racecourse in more than two years, he tried to refuse at the first fence, and fell.
In 1945, he finally ran in the Gold Cup. Injury twice, cancellation twice, and, before that, the weather, had prevented any earlier attempt to carry the old gold colours into the winners’ enclosure. He jumped off on the outside and tracked the front-runners before going to dispute the lead at the last. Red Rower drew away to win by three lengths, with Schubert second and Paladin third. With only one exception Paladin had contended first place going over the last in each of his steeplechases. He was consistent, brave and game, but the Gold Cup remained a dream.
Paladin won once more, a two mile chase at 2/1. His final outing was as a 13-year-old in the Grand Annual Steeplechase, now the penultimate race of the Festival. It was won by a horse half his age.
Ronnie Holbech is the great-grandfather of Ed Seyfried, ex-point-to-point rider, racing fanatic and CEO of Old Gold
Racing, a company established last year to syndicate very small shares (around £60) in very real racehorses. Seyfried’s aim is to take the family silks you know where. For further details, call 01242 650630 or visit: oldgoldracing.com