Derek Searle

Here, in his own words, is the ex-jockey's autobiography.

I was born in West Ham on Saturday 21 June, 1947.

My parents were Richard & Florence. They had six children, me and my twin sister Christine, two other sons, Richard & Jack, and two other daughters, Kathleen & Eileen.

I left school at 15 and went to work with my father and brothers as laggers which involved the use of all types of insulating materials including asbestos.

My father later died of the disease: I was also exposed to it and consequently now have a collapsed lung and pleural thickening.

After a year I told my father that I didn't want to do this work anymore, so he suggested I got into horse racing. I was small for my age and had no racing background apart from putting on bets for him and my brothers.

I had never even sat on a horse apart from winning a donkey derby at Pontins when I was about 14.

I remember people saying after that I was a natural and that I should be jockey.

My father wrote off to all the big trainers 'as they had the best horses'.

He wrote to Major Peter Cazalet, N. Crump, W. Stephenson and F. Walwyn.

Only Cazalet had a vacancy and he wrote back arranging an interview.

Me and my father went to his stable in Kent. It was called Fairlawne and was in the village of Shipbourne.

We were shown into the office by the secretary, a Mr Wiffin, who told us Mr Cazalet would be with us in a minute.

I remember when he came in, my father was stood with his hands in his pocket.

Cazalet said to him 'take your hands out of your pockets, man, and stand up straight!'

My father's face went red.

I stood there shaking.

Cazalet then asked me about myself, wanting to know where I'd learnt to ride and how long I had been riding.

I said I had learnt at a local riding school and had been riding for as long as I could remember.

Of course, this was a lie. I had never sat on a horse in my life, Just the donkey derby.

Cazalet seemed pleased with my answer and asked me when I could start. I said straight away.

I went home thinking how am I going to get away with this?

With a mate, I went to a riding school and the owner put me up on an old racehorse called Charlie.

With just three rides on him, I felt like I had been riding for years.

I was ready to go.

I was given a date to start and, arriving, was met by the head lad, Mr Fairgreaves. That Sunday afternoon, he showed me to my room which was one of 12 dormitories for the single lads above the stable block.

He told me to get an early night as work started at 5 a.m sharp and that if I were a minute late, I would lose my half day off.

I got up early the next morning and after a briefing in that tack room I was introduced to the other lads.

There were three Dereks, one nicknamed Dobby. I was wearing a ring and from that moment until I left racing, I was known as Ringo.

The head lad put me with Richard Dennard, who showed me how to muck out, tack up and groom.

For the first days I just walked injured horses around the yard, then Mr Cazalet said that I could ride a retired chaser called Scottish Flight which had once run in the Grand National.

I was told to tuck him in behind the others just to see how I got on.

All went well, and a week later I was promoted to riding a horse called Bel Ambre, a grey that had once been caught up in a doping scandal.

Other horses which I looked after in my time at Cazalet's were Chou ll, Black Magic, Woodman, Inch Arran, Game Spirit, Lord Kybo. Old Pablo, Charlot and Different Class.

This horse was owned by Gregory Peck, the actor, a very tall man who would often visit when he came over from America.

Other famous owners we had were Winston Churchill and the Queen Mother.

Churchill's grandson, Nicholas Soames, used to ride out for us on Saturdays.

Different Class was favourite for the National in 1967 but was brought down in the big pile up behind Foinavon, ridden by John Buckingham.

When John retired he became my valet in the weighing room, getting my saddle ready, etc.

Different Class finished third the following year to Red Alligator.

Mr Cazalet owned a pub in Shipbourne village called The Chaser (now called The Huntsman) where all the lads would meet up every evening and weekend to socialize and talk racing.

Next to the pub is a church where Cazalet is buried and where his daughter was married.

Many important people were invited: I had to look after Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor and show them to their seats in the church.

All the lads had a part to play at the wedding.

Other famous people who came down to Fairlawne stables included the Queen Mother who visited at least once a month to see her horses.

One day The Queen came into my box while I was holding the Queen Mother's horse, Woodman. We were told not to speak unless spoken to. If we were spoken to we were to address her as Mam.

She said 'Good Morning.'

I replied 'Good Morning, Sir. Er- Mam.'

She just smiled and said 'Does he like Polo mints?'

Before I could answer, the head lad chimes in and says 'no, he likes carrots but he doesn't like mints.'

The Queen offered Woodman a mint anyway who ate it up and made the head lad look a fool.

Gregory Peck always opened a fete on Open Day at Fairlawne at the end of the season. Locals would come round to see the horses.

Another time I met the Royal Family was when we had to take some three year olds to Knightsbridge Barracks to see if she wanted to buy any.

I was holding a big horse called Airtex which stood 17 hands and had feet the size of dinner plates.

Prince Charles came up to the horse and patted him on the neck. Airtex duly stamped on his foot. The Prince gave an almighty yelp and walked away limping, with tears in his eyes.

A couple of years passed and I got promoted to breaking in horses.

Richard Dennard and me rode out three lots then teamed up to do the day's most boring jobs.

We took great pride in knowing that a horse which we had broken in became a champion.

The best horse I broke in was KYBO, a horse that went to Josh Gifford after Cazalet died.

He said it was the best horse he ever trained.

It was owned by Mrs Kerman. She always included the name Kybo when naming her horses i.e. Lord Kybo, Sir Kybo, Master Kybo.

Kybo comes from when she wrote to her son at prep school. She would always finish her letters with Kybo (keep your bowels open).

Some of the time we used to take horses to Knowle Park near Sevenoaks for a good blow out before a race.

Fairlawne gallops were only four furlongs long.

One day, Richard Denning, David Mould and me were going flat out; I was on a horse called Son of a Bee. When we pulled up, Cazalet said that the horse had gone well for me and asked me if I would like to ride him in a boys' race at Folkestone. This would be my first race. David and Richard were very pleased for me.

When the day came a few days later, I walked into the weighing room and went over to David to get a few tips on riding him as David had ridden him the time before.

Just as I was speaking to him, Cazalet entered and came over. He said 'I'm afraid you can't ride today because your licence hasn't come through.' He apologised and said 'don't worry - I'll put you up as soon as possible.'

A week later, he called me into his office and told me that my licence had come through. I was to ride the Queen Mother's horse Charlot in a boys race soon.

Some weeks later the horse was entered in a two mile novice race at Folkestone and that I would be riding. Charlot was a good hurdler and had won many races.

I had schooled him over fences at Fairlawne and he had jumped well. I was confident of a good run.

In the Ring Enclosure, Cazalet gave me instructions, telling me to keep on the outside. He told me to keep safe, have a nice ride and to enjoy myself.

We jumped off but Charlot didn't jump very well that day - he was more like cat jumping - but we were still going well in third place and not under pressure but a bad blunder at the second last took the stuffing out of him and we finished fourth.

Cazalet was pleased with the way it went and said 'you did well to stay on after that blunder.'

I rode Charlot a couple of more times, falling on him at Worcester at the fourth last open ditch when I had the race won.

It was a crashing fall, Charlot ending up on top of me. I was winded and could not get up - I was suffocating under him. Two ambulance men pulled me out and put me in the ambulance. A doctor said I was bruised, but next day I could not move and was admitted to hospital with torn muscles. I was there for two weeks.

I rode Charlot a few more times, and though I got placed, I never won on him.

With four other jockeys in front of me (David Mould, Bill Rees, Richard Dennard and Willie Powell) I got very few rides.

My last ride for Cazalet was on a horse called Old Pablo at Ascot after he had not run for a over a year.

I was to give him an easy race. We finished fourth and Cazalet was pleased that I got him round safe and sound. Old Pablo won a big race next time out with Mould in the saddle.

A few weeks later I asked Cazalet when my next ride would be. He said he couldn't promise any more at the moment as he had obligations to other jockeys first.

I thought about it for a few months and decided to look for another stable to ride for.

A trainer called B Cambridge in Staffordshire on Lord Bradford's estate was advertising for a stable lad with racing experience, so I wrote to him saying that I had ridden for Peter Cazalet and the Queen Mother.

He came down to Shipbourne to interview me and promised me the earth if I would join him.

I went into the office and told Cazalet that I wanted to leave to try and better myself. I said that because rides were so few and far between, I needed to go elsewhere. He agreed and thanked me for my services and wished me luck.

I had great times at Cazalet's and don't regret one day there.

Great jockeys rode for the stable including Dick Francis, who became an author, and Dave Dick, one of the all time greats.

Considering the stats - only one stable lad in a hundred gets to ride in a race - I was very privileged to have ridden for Cazalet and the Queen Mother.

Mr Cambridge sent down a horse box to move all the furniture from my house. Together with my wife and two kids, I followed it down to a village called Bishopswood where Cambridge put us in a house next to the farm and stables.

The house was a wreck!

I thought: 'What have I done?!' I knew then that I should have gone to look at the house and stables first but knew I'd have to make the best of it.

Next morning I went out to meet the other lads and horses.

I discovered that there were no other lads - just Cambridge and his 18-year-old daughter, plus 12 horses. I asked him where the other staff were and he said there weren't any, just you and Rosemary, his daughter.

I said; 'How can we run a stable with just the two of us?'

He replied: 'You'll manage.'

He gave me a free hand to train the horses the Cazalet way. Rosemary, who I never got on with, did not like it as we began having winners - like Haggis and Tanville Lad - from such a small yard.

After a few months, I asked Cambridge when I might expect to ride some of the horses. He put me up on Brialand - a useless mare which had never been in the frame - in a handicap hurdle at Chepstow. In the race, Terry Biddlecombe was leading. I came upsides, and he looked over and asked me how I was going. I said 'Not bad.' He then said 'Got to go now. Bye bye.' He won the race; I finished down the field.

I broke in a nice four year old horse called Royal Bill and rode him in a novice hurdle at Uttoxeter. I was going so strong on him that I took up the running two out and led at the last, but the horse tired to finish sixth.

It seemed to me that when I got a horse into form, Cambridge would put up another jockey to win on it.

We had a horse called Chenar which, although bred to win a Derby, was a complete nutcase which no one wanted to ride. Even Richard Evans, one of the toughest jockeys around, turned him down.

On some occasions Chenar had refused to race; other times he had run out at fences.

Cambridge asked me if I wanted to ride him, and I said I would.

The race, run on Wednesday 10 March, 1971, was a hurdle at Worcester: I expected him to dig his feet in and refuse to race - instead, he shot off to the front and was running off with me.

I managed to get round the first bend but, going up the far side past the stables, he started to put the brakes on and trying to run out. The other horses were closing up which seemed to frighten him, and he shot off again.

I won by twenty lengths from Tia Maria and Pelican Feather: so strong was he going that I had a job to pull him up.

I managed to get him back into the Winners' Enclosure and a big cheer went up. The crowd must have heard that it was my first winner!

I felt totally knackered and emotionally drained.

Chenar was a right dog and the last horse I thought I'd win on. I rode him again the next time. He refused to race.

Although I rode a lot of horses for Cambridge, they were always the ones which other jockeys did not want to ride. I rode a lot of placed horses from bad rides and took a few bad falls. I realised that if I didn't start getting better rides, I would end up getting badly hurt.

It was decision time: either I would have to move on to another trainer or quit and find some other way to make a living.

My brother had a painting business and said that if and when I'd had enough of racing I could go and work for him.

I left Cambridge and became a painter and decorator, moving to Telford in Shropshire and then to Colchester in Essex.

I am now retired and keep busy playing golf.

I would like to mention my brother-in-law Graham Burrows who rode for Michael Dickinson in the early eighties and who looked after many great horses for him including Badsworth Boy, Bregawn and Silver Buck.

Sadly, Graham was killed in a car accident.

Derek Searle 2014.