A wager of epic proportions

I visted Rufford Abbey yesterday and had a perfect day with my girlfriend, my mother and father and our dog. Beautiful weather and beautiful wildlife.

Rufford was once owned by chap called Saville and due to one thing or another he managed to get the estate into debt and he was in danger of losing it to the banks to whom he owed money.

But he had an idea or rather he had a horse called Cremorne who he rather fancied could win the Derby. So he entered him for the famous race and placed the whole estate as a wager for the horse to win.

The story goes that the bookmakers retired for the day to the Hop Pole hotel in Ollerton where they caroused and toasted their own success, each eagerly anticipating reciept of the keys to the vast Rufford estate whilst they waited for the telegraph to arrive with the results of the race.

I would love to have seen their faces when the telegraph arrived showing Cremorne had romped home and the bookies stood to be ruined by the payout. Saville recieved his winnings and the Abbey and estate stayed open for another 40 odd years. Cremorne was retired with the 100 guineas he had won to live another 10 years in luxury and relative freedom. He's buried in the grounds of the estate and we went to visit his grave - a lovely stone set in the floor with respectful railings around it in a beautiful clearing in the woods.

I love that story. If Cremorne had lost the estate would probably never have ended up how it is today.