Tom Cannon, the elder son of a Windsor horse-dealer, was born on St George’s Day 1846 at Eton, Buckinghamshire, where his parents Thomas H. Cannon and Harriett Townsend later kept the George Hotel.
At thirteen, Tom became apprenticed to a Mr Sextie, who ran a small training stable in Wiltshire. His first ride came a year later in 1861. Riding Mavourneen at Plymouth, he was catapulted into the turf when the horse struck into the heels of Tame Deer, knocking him unconscious. He recovered sufficiently to a come second to Miss Eleanor in the Tradesmen’s Plate later.
The next day he climbed aboard Lord Portsmouth’s My Uncle. It became the first of the 1,544 winners that he would ride throughout his career. His prowess in the saddle was quickly recognised with the astute owner Mr Brayley first in line. Tom also fell under the watchful eye of top Danebury trainer John Day, who appreciated the youngster’s personal qualities as well as his professional ones. Tom fell in love with Day’s daughter Kate, and, on the 13th December 1865, married her with the trainer’s full approval.
In 1866, against a field of nine, he rode his first Classic winner - the bay filly Repulse in the One Thousand Guineas. In 1872, he became champion jockey for the first - and only - time, riding 87 winners. Tom was to spend thirty-two years in the saddle winning a total of thirteen English classics plus a host of major victories in France. He won the English Derby once, in 1882, on the powerfully-built chestnut Shotover, a filly that he’d already ridden to victory in the Two Thousand Guineas.
Tom’s younger brother Joseph managed the Bedford Cottage Yard Stables at Newmarket. From here, in 1878, Tom steered Pilgrimage to victory in both the One and Two Thousand Guineas for Lord Lonsdale. He also rode for the ill-fated Scottish millionaire George Baird whose best horse was the small, but exceptionally good-looking Busybody, on whom Tom won the 1884 One Thousand Guineas and Oaks. Before agreeing to ride for the notoriously fickle Baird he had demanded – and got – three years’ salary in advance. At £3,000 per season, Baird, after considerable negotiation (because nearly everyone wanted Tom) had been forced to come up with £9,000.
Tom’s honesty and integrity were never challenged and, because of this, was one of the few professional jockeys allowed to own as well as ride racehorses. He also owned several horses in partnership with Tom Robinson of High Wycombe.
After Fred Archer’s shocking death, it was to Tom that trainer John Porter (another Tom Cannon devotee) turned for Ormonde’s new jockey. Ormonde – along with Minting, Bendigo and Phil - was entered for the 1887 Hardwicke Stakes at Ascot. It turned out a titanic struggle. Minting and Bendigo led into the straight, but the real drama was unfolding behind. George Barrett, riding Phil and incensed at having not inherited the ride on Ormonde, bored his horse into the favourite as they came round the bend. Ormonde was sent crashing into solid rails and four-inch flaps of skin were torn from its near hind. Tom managed to straighten the horse and, in an epic rally, got up to defeat Minting on the line. It was one of the few occasions on which the mild-mannered Tom lost his temper as he tore into the errant Barrett.
After a remarkable riding career, Tom retired from the saddle and began training, taking over the lease of the Danebury stables from his father-in-law, John Day, in 1879. It was a massive operation - at any one time he could have over eighty horses in his care. Despite his delicate manner and politeness, Tom turned out to be a shrewd and ruthless businessman, so like his father before him. Just before Humewood won the 1887 Cesarewitch, he sold the horse to Lord Rodney. When asked why he had sold him so cheaply, Tom replied “The horse was cheap but look at the advertisement. Everyone who wants a horse will come now and buy another cheap one from me.”
Tom sent out Reminder to finish third in the 1894 Derby and Curzon, who finished second a year later. His greatest training triumph came in 1888 when he sent out Playfair to win the Grand National - yet many insisted that he was a better trainer of jockeys than horses. Leading jockeys John Watts, Sam Loates and Jack Robinson all served their apprenticeships at Danebury. Tom was also responsible for influencing the career of the outstanding gentleman rider Arthur Coventry, as well as his own sons, Kempton and Mornington. A third son, Charles, also a jockey, rode for 17 years without quite reaching the prominence of his brothers.
Tom’s own mentor had been George Fordham who, when attached to the Danebury stable, had taught Tom the advantage to be gained by steadying a horse before its final effort. Tom, a fine horseman as well as a splendid jockey, added his own gentle touch: he rarely used the whip or spurs, particularly on highly-strung two-year-olds, preferring instead to coax the best from them with his considerable ability. A rider of tremendous patience and judgement, his one fault – in common with other top jockeys – was his habit of trying to win by the narrowest of margins in an attempt to deceive the handicapper. This did not always work out, though it cost him fewer races than most.
Tom trained the winners of the two great jumping races at Auteuil in France – Redpath and Aladdin. (He also rode the French Derby winner twice and won the Grand Prize of Paris on five occasions.)
Part of the Danebury training grounds passed into the hands of a lady who refused to allow racehorses on her land and Tom was forced to relinquish training. He became clerk of the course at Stockbridge Races from 1892 to 1898 until the course was forced to close for the same reason.
In the later years of his life, Tom bought the Grosvenor Hotel in Stockbridge. He had a fine tenor voice and would often entertain his customers with the song of the day. Though he rarely smiled on the racecourse, he had a sense of humour: as a trainer he had often allowed visitors to the stable to mount Duke of Parma, informing them that they could rightly claim to have ridden the winner of the Cambridgeshire.
For the last twenty years of his life, Tom suffered recurrent ill-health and after a long, final illness in which dropsy supervened on serious heart trouble, Tom died on Friday 13th July 1917 at Springfield House, Stockbridge, his Hampshire residence.
He left an estate valued at £5,306.
The family.
Tom and Kate had eleven children: Alice Mary (born 1866), Florence (1869), Letitia Maude (1870), Thomas Leonard (1872), Herbert Mornington (1873), Agnes Mable (1875), Margaret Kate (1877), Blanch (1878), Walter Kempton (1879), Ethel Cecelia (1882) and Charles Edward (1884).
Margaret married Ernest Piggott and their son Keith was the father of Lester Piggott.
Tom Junior became a jockey and lost by a length to his father in the 1888 Eclipse Stakes. Kempton (named after the racecourse) also became a jockey and, in strict contrast to his father, became a pioneer of the crouched, Tod Sloan style of riding. Mornington, yet another to take to the saddle, won a Derby as well as the Hanworth Plate at Kempton in 1891 in which his father, riding in his last-ever race, finished third. Charles also became a jockey.
Joseph, Tom’s brother, rode the (then) youngest ever winner of the Grand National, scoring on the five-year-old Regal in1876. He turned to training – among his patrons were Lord Roseberry and George Baird for whom he won many good races including a second Two Thousand Guineas with Petronel in 1880. He retired in 1919 and handed over to his son Joseph ‘Boxer’ Cannon. Joseph died in 1933.
Tom’s wife Kate predeceased him. He remarried, but his second wife also predeceased him.
Martin Cannon, the great-grandson of Thomas Cannon, has contacted Jockeypedia: he points out that Charles Cannon came out of WW1 suffering severely with shell shock, being buried alive, and having been gassed. He was unable to continue in the saddle.
Whilst riding, he was somewhat overshadowed by his three brothers: being the youngest he was riding alone as all the others had retired.
On the Gallops with Tom Cannon
By George Wheeler
March 1882
The picture that hangs in the kitchen is that of Robert the Devil which was painted by Alfred F. de Prades shortly after that horse had won the 1880 St Leger. Tom Cannon, its jockey, wears a white jacket with a blue belt and cap.
Seated below the picture, Tom, now a trainer, takes breakfast and contemplates the day ahead. A string of sheeted thoroughbreds file past the window. It is his intention to watch them later at exercise but he’s concerned about the ground. The recent lack of rain has parched the gallops and a late spring cold spell has penetrated and unsettled the thin-skinned two-year-olds. But it's the older jumpers which demand his first consideration.
His fears are soon confirmed. The trap which takes him to the training ground each morning provokes the youngsters as it passes: they dance and kick out as is so often the nature of thoroughbreds at the slightest disturbance: Tom listens with a practiced ear as hooves clatter on the rock-hard gallop. There will be little schooling today.
Alighting, he inspects a sample of black oats presented to him by his faithful head lad, William Olding, and a conversation follows questioning the effect of thick-skinned white oats on the digestion of horses. The two men then agree on a plausible workout for the string, given the unforgiving surface. A glance above the restless young horses as they venture tentatively uphill reveals Danebury and the Stockbridge stands in the distant landscape.
Tom, the champion jockey of 1872, had been, because of delicate health, forced to retire at a relatively early age, but, during his days in the saddle, had ridden against the best - Fred Archer, George Fordham, et al - though never in their shadow. Now, as a trainer, he gains great satisfaction in teaching his sons the art of jockeyship. All three later distinguished themselves on the racecourse though increasing weight curtailed the promising career of Tom Jr., his eldest. Mornington proved to be a star by heading the list of winning jockeys on six occasions. Another son, Kempton, was also consistently prominent. Between them, the three brothers went on to ride nearly 3,800 winners. There was a fourth jockey brother, Charles, who, whilst riding, was somewhat overshadowed by his three brothers: being the youngest he was riding alone as the others had retired. Charles Cannon came out of WW1 suffering severely with shell shock, being buried alive, and having been gassed. He was unable to continue in the saddle.
Tom’s three stable apprentices, John Watts, William Robinson and Sammy Loates, all went on to win classic races on various occasions whilst Tom’s young steeplechasing protege, George Mawson, eventually won a Grand National.
The twenty-six stable lads Tom employs, each of whom carries dreams of future Derby victories as a professional jockey, all rise at the same hour, from four-thirty in the spring to five-thirty in the depths of winter, to follow strict routines and disciplines. Tom has been accompanied to the gallops by ‘Rapier’, a leading sports correspondent of the times. Tom describes a typical morning to him.
“The horses know what time it is, and on hearing the lads awakening and getting dressed, neigh loudly to signal their eagerness to be fed. First, the boy carefully sifts a bucket of oats and feeds his charge before clearing out the manger of straw. Then he dresses the litter (straw) on which the horse has been lying, that is, he separates the unclean straw from the litter and puts aside what remains for another day. The horse is then cleaned and rubbed down. It’s then saddled, bridled and mounted before going out for morning exercise. Except by accident, a racehorse must never trot. He must either walk or gallop. After galloping for about half a mile, the boy urges his mount on at full speed for another half-mile. A boy must get to know everything about his horse. After the horse has recovered its wind, it is watered. The boy must count the number of times his horse swallows when he drinks, and allow him to take no more gulps than the groom ordered. The boy then remounts, and a gentle gallop is taken before a walk of considerable length. Then comes a final short, though severe, gallop before returning home.”
Tom is passionate about his two-year-olds and quick to denounce jockeys who abuse them.
“That blessed whip loses such a lot of races, especially on young horses,” he points out. “No one knows what number of two-year-olds are ruined by the whip and spur. It’s cruel and it does no good at all. Once a young horse has been thrashed in a finish, he’s too nervous next time out knowing he’s going to be thrashed again. He goes back to his stable, timorous and trembling, he won’t eat and, worse, he won’t drink. A good jockey will nurse his horse on his journey and not use his whip. He doesn't want his heels and spurs rammed back into the horse’s flanks or his hands punishing its mouth all the way with a short rein. A good jockey will not expect a weedy two-year-old to carry him the whole course on his jaws.’
Tom recalled his own riding of young horses.
‘As I sat in my light saddle I could feel their hearts against my legs, beat! beat! beat! bump! bump! bump! If a careless or clumsy boy is on them and they lose ground at the start, out comes that blessed whip and they go whipping and bumping all over the course. Then the lad digs in with his spurs, seldom in the right place. If you were to examine a hundred horses that I have ridden in races you won’t find a sign of spur on three of them. I can only speak of my own experience. You must not have your rein too loose so that your horse has no guidance and doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. You must keep your hands well back. If you can’t hold him with a gentle pull, try a gentler one still. It’s just like trout-fishing, you want to be as delicate as that.’
Tom then reflects on a race finish.
‘This is where many races are thrown away. If you hit a horse too much and too soon he will simply come back. He shrinks at the whip – of course he does. He’s a great deal too sensible not to do so. A flash young rider flourishes it about in the air and frightens his horse out of his stride before they have well reached the distance. If you want to hit your horse, the whip should be drawn quietly, and never more than seven or eight strides from home. A horse can tell, too, when you want him to make the final effort, and if he’s game and fit, and you’re doing your best for him, he’ll go with you.’
‘Rapier’ later noted Tom’s unique style and relationship with his younger horses. ‘It would be difficult,’ he then wrote, ‘to find a prettier sight than that of Tom Cannon making friends with one of his young ones. It seems to be his rule never to go up to the horse but let the horse come to him. Some of the high-bred, sensitive little creatures are extremely nervous. When Tom goes into their box they get as far away from him as possible and eye his proceedings suspiciously. They show a disposition to start from his hand, however gently it is outstretched, and this they watch at first with apprehension. Presently they look up to his face, see the kindly smile, hear the persuasive tones of his voice, and by degrees, with their soft little muzzles outstretched, only showing slight timorousness by the movement of their ears, they approach him. A sniff seems to have a wonderfully reassuring effect. I never saw one that was not very soon nestling its dainty little head and rubbing its nose confidingly against its master, evidently appreciating his caress and kind words. The spectacle is a delight for a man who loves animals.’
Suddenly the sun comes out, gloriously highlighting the gallops and igniting possibilities of an hour’s schooling. Tom turns his attention to the jumpers. Fifty years ago, Alfred Sadler, who used to train here, laid out a course and planted trees so that horses might be sheltered from belligerent winds, and it was here that Tom laid out a makeshift steeplechase course on which to train his jumpers. The first obstacle he laid out was a low gorsed hurdle, with the trunk of a very small tree placed before it on the ground. The second was just a bit higher with a slightly larger tree before it. Then followed a few low, easy fences to induce confidence.
“They learn to jump here and not knock the hurdles about,” explained Tom. “The hurdles are all spliced together and won’t give, so they have to be jumped.”
Not far from the improvised jumps course are the graves of Bay Middleton, hero of the 1836 Two Thousand Guineas and Derby, and Crucifix, heroine of the Two Thousand Guineas, One Thousand Guineas and Oaks in 1840.
Olding, trotting up for directions, momentarily puts an end to the conversation. Tom instructs him to send the young ones home. Then a handsome filly, bucking, catches his eye and Tom resumes his analysis. ‘Lots of horses’ he begins, ‘are spoilt by being badly bitted. That filly is an example. Nothing could hold her. She used to run all over the downs like a wolf just escaped from a menagerie. The bit was too severe so I tried her in a plain snaffle but she did not seem to like that either. Then I rolled some indiarubber around a wooden bit I had made for her and it worked. Now, as you see, she goes as steady as possible.’
Mornington Cannon, who has been helping school the string, now joins the company.
In a quiet moment with Rapier, he recalls a curious incident which once befell his father.
‘One day,’ he began, ‘Lord Russell of Killowen with a party of his friends visited the stables to inspect Lord Russell’s horses which my father trained for him. The next morning two well-dressed strangers drove up to the stables in the very carriage used the previous day by Lord Russell and asked to see him. They explained that they were friends of Lord Russell’s, and had intended to accompany him the day before, but had been prevented from doing so at the last moment. Could they be shown round now? Certainly. My father not only gave them the full tour but invited them to stay for lunch. It was during this meal that they first mentioned my father’s splendid collection of racing trophies, presentation caps, etc. ‘Aren't you afraid of burglars with all this valuable stuff about?’ asked one of the visitors. ‘No,’ said my father, and gave a whistle. On hearing this, a formidable white bulldog flew bristling into the room. My father patted the dog’s head and said: ‘I’m not afraid of burglars with this chap on the premises. I’d be sorry for any burglar he got hold of.’
‘We thought no more about their visit until a week later when the head of the local police called round with the information that the alleged friends of Lord Russell were in reality two notorious burglars who had been arrested after being tracked to Danebury. Whether the burglarious pair would sooner or later have made an attempt upon my father’s silver had they not been caught, or whether they had been deterred from doing so by the sight of the bulldog remains an open question, but my father had restless nights for some time afterwards.’
Tom gave up training in 1892 and moved to Garlogs House, Nether Wallop, some mile and a half away from Danebury stable. He left an impressive record as both a jockey and trainer, riding 1,544 winners before sending out Busybody to win the 1,000 Guineas and Oaks in 1884. Tom also trained Playfair, the somewhat fortuitous winner of the 1888 Grand National. Playfair slipped badly two fences before Becher’s almost unseating its jockey, George Mawson. Riding The Badger alongside, jockey Arthur Nightingall reached out and pushed Mawson back into the saddle.
In the early years of his retirement, Tom acted as Clerk of the Course at Stockbridge until racing was discontinued there in 1898. Tom then bought the Grosvenor Arms, Stockbridge, and it was here that the great man spent his remaining years.
Born in Eton on 23 April 1846, he suffered a lingering death before dying on the morning of Friday 13 April 1917 at Springfield House, Stockbridge, aged 71.
Tom was buried at Stockbridge Cemetery the following Tuesday, April 17.
His loyal former head lad and staunch friend William Olding was among those sadly laying a wreath.
Classic winners:
