There was a chill wind with bursts of rain at the Grand National on March 24, 1956. On that eventful day, one of the great unexplained mysteries of horse racing took place at Aintree Racecourse in England. Ironically, the jockey who was at the center of the mysterious affair was Dick Francis, who would later become the grand master of British mystery writing.
That day, Dick Francis, Great Britain’s leading National Hunt jockey and champion steeplechaser and his mount Devon Loch - a magnificent brown-colored horse with a prominent white star on his face that was owned by the Queen Mother - ran an almost flawless race. After completing almost two circuits of the nearly 2 ¼ mile course and jumping thirty fences, Francis and his mount led the field of twenty-nine by a wide margin and headed for the winning post, a gallop of almost five hundred yards on flat grass.
With the Queen Mother, Queen Elizabeth II, Princess Margaret, and the enormous crowd of 250,000 cheering them on from the stands, Francis and Devon Loch drew closer and closer to the finish.
They never made it.
With twenty yards to go, the unthinkable happened: Devon Loch’s rear legs collapsed and he lay spread-eagled on the turf. Francis dismounted quickly. Devon Loch stood up, but the horse could hardly move and the race was lost. Francis’s dream of winning the coveted Grand National for the Queen Mother and himself – it was his eighth attempt - ended in heart-breaking disappointment.
The crowd was shocked.
The Queen Mother shook her head as Devon Loch limped toward the finish, putting her hand to her mouth when she saw Francis in tears on the course. Deeply distressed and disappointed, Francis returned to the weighing room. Summoned by the Queen Mother and the Queen to the Royal box, he was comforted by her majesties; however according to Francis, they were “sorrowful and upset.”
A little while later, he and Peter Cazalet, who trained the Royal horses, went to the stable to check Devon Loch, who was munching on hay and apparently fine. As Cazalet checked the horse’s legs, Francis recalled in his autobiography The Sport of Queens: “I stood close to Devon Loch and leaned my head against his neck. We were both tired. ‘Oh, Devon Loch,’ I was saying in my mind, ‘Devon Loch, what happened? What happened? If only he could have answered.”
Dick Francis went on racing, always thinking back about that day at Aintree; always feeling deep regret and hurt. So close yet so far. There was much speculation about what happened to Devon Loch – some thought a heart attack, or a ghost jump (thinking he needed to jump an imaginary fence), or a sudden or severe muscle spasm, or shock by the deafening noise of the crowd – but no one will ever know.
Francis rode Devon Loch again afterwards in three races - they came in first in one and second in the other two. After a series of falls on other mounts, Francis tumbled again on January 11, 1957 at Newbury races. On the advice of his friends and after much thought, he retired as a jockey at age 36. Francis left at the top of his profession; he had won 345 of 2,305 races and placed and showed in 525. In his illustrious career, Francis had ridden at Aintree, Cheltenham, Chepstow, Doncaster, Folstone, Kempton Park, Leicester, Plumpton, Warwick, Sandown Park and others. He loved the life of a steeplechase jockey despite the mud, sweat, pain, cold, and disappointment. “The simple fact is that I liked riding horses,” he wrote, “and I liked the speed and challenge of racing.”
After leaving the work he loved so much, a new opportunity soon presented itself that would transform his life. Francis was offered a job with the Sunday Express to have a staff person write four articles on horse racing to be published in his name. Francis accepted but told the newspaper he would write the articles himself. He ended up writing a column for sixteen years. Before taking the position with the Sunday Express, Francis had been approached by John Johnson, a literary agent, about writing an autobiography. He began working on the book in the summer of 1957. After his articles were published in the Sunday Express, Francis’s confidence in his own writing abilities led him to complete the book. His autobiography -The Sport of Queens - was published by Michael Joseph Ltd in December 1957.
Needing to make a living to support his wife Mary and their two sons, Francis tried his hand at writing a novel. “Writing a novel proved to be the hardest, most self-analysing task I ever attempted, far worse than an autobiography: “ wrote Francis, “and its rewards were greater than I expected.”
His first book Dead Cert (1962) was published by Michael Joseph Ltd. Encouraged by the public’s warm reception to Dead Cert, Francis tried his hand at another book. Two years later, his second novel Nerve (1964) was released in Great Britain and abroad. After the publication of Nerve, Francis averaged a new mystery a year, which delighted an ever growing readership. His third novel For Kicks (1965) was awarded a Silver Dagger (runner-up, best crime novel of the year) from the Crime Writers’ Association of Great Britain.
His award-winning British mystery books would be known the world over for their well-crafted stories, extensive research, and likeable protagonists. Always written against a backdrop of horse racing, Francis’s legions of readers have liked his fast-paced action and clear, easy-reading style.
Francis’s style is crisp and clean; every word is there for a reason. He attributed this to his years at the Sunday Express. “Whatever I now know about writing I learnt from the discipline of working for a newspaper.” he explained.” There was small space allowed so that every word had to be worth it . . . .” When he has written a couple of chapters, Francis puts it on the computer – he told an interviewer that no one could read his handwriting - and then goes back to writing in longhand, always repeating the same process.
Many honors and awards were given to Francis later in life. On March 20, 1984, he was invested (knighted) by the Queen as an Officer of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. In 1989, the diamond firm Cartier awarded him a Diamond Dagger, given annually for overall achievement in crime writing, and in 1991 he was presented with an honorary Doctorate in Humane Letters from Tufts University in Boston.
In December 1992, the Francis’ moved from England to the Cayman Islands in the British West Indies to escape the cold, which affected Mary’s health. The Francis’ enjoyed their new home and, as they had for so many years, worked together as a team; she as researcher and critic and he the writer. Tragically, in September 2000 Mary died of a heart attack and their close personal and working relationship of over fifty years ended. Their last joint effort – Shattered – was released in 2000.
There were no Dick Francis novels published until 2006 when Francis collaborated with his son Felix on the book Under Orders.
As one of the most popular writers of the 20th century, Francis has written forty works of fiction (remarkably, all of his novels are available in print in Great Britain and the United States), an autobiography, a collection of short stories, a biography, a screenplay, co-edited three volumes of racing stories, and contributed to anthologies and periodicals. Translated into more than 30 languages, Francis’s books have sold more than 60 million copies around the world.
Dick Francis was once asked if he preferred to be considered a jockey or a writer. “Success as a writer is more enduring,” he said, “whereas success as a jockey is immediate and ephemeral. When you win a race everyone is cheering and back-slapping, but soon afterwards it’s all over and they are wondering about your next race. The popularity of a novel lasts longer. It’s also nicer to be thought of not only as that chap who didn’t win the Grand National.”
