'At Ascot, you couldn't see anything wrong with British racing – and yet we know there are terrible troubles'

Sir Mark Prescott famously ended his 28-year wait for a Royal Ascot winner last month. He spoke to Lee Mottershead afterwards and we have republished this interview, which was first published exclusively for Racing Post Members' Club subscribers in the wake of the royal meeting.

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With apologies to the subject of this interview, there is no need here for any formal introductions.

For a start, we do not have the time. If fortunate enough to spend a late afternoon and early evening in the company of Sir Mark Prescott, you get through a tremendous amount of material. The reason for this latest meeting is his recent return to Royal Ascot's winner's enclosure after an absence of 28 years, yet across four hours the conversation extends to, among other things, horses, training, the future of racing, the future of Prescott, politics, politicians and an unfortunate incident that occurred somewhere north of Wolverhampton. Mindful of all this, you will hopefully appreciate the importance of keeping the preamble short and snappy.

In the wonderful time capsule that has been Prescott's home at Heath House Stables for more than half a century, Mrs Carter is working in the office, while Mrs Buckerfield awaits us in the front room. Mrs Carter (Diane) is the trainer's racing secretary. Mrs Buckerfield (Janet) is a much-respected vet who once worked in Newmarket before emigrating to Australia. She is back home in Britain for a three-month holiday and has been asked by her old friend if she might like to be mother.

With the tea poured into bone china cups and slices of cake placed on bone china saucers, Prescott talks about spending the previous day judging a puppy competition before the subject matter moves on to stories about hare coursing and the inadequacy of gravestones.

"Most of them tell you nothing about the person who died," he laments before highlighting the monument to a Mr Hartley Hawes as an exception to that rule. "'Farmer, greyhound trainer, naturalist. His course is run, he's crowed his last, Hartley Hawes, man of the past.' That's wonderful."

So, too, is an old clock that chimes five times on the hour, just as the conversation turns to funerals.

Sir Mark Prescott, pictured in his office at Heath House Stables earlier this weekCredit: Edward Whitaker

"I'm having a good one," he says. "You must both come. I'm going to have a marquee on the lawn and I've already got the gravestone. All they have to do is put the dates on it."

"Oh my godfathers," says Buckerfield.

"Well, otherwise they f*** it up," explains Prescott, warming to his theme.

"I had the gravestone done 25 to 30 years ago. It's a nice one with a horse, a hare and a gamecock. It just says, 'Sir Mark Prescott, racehorse trainer and lover of all fieldsports.' That's it. 

"I've also got my plot in Newmarket cemetery. I had to meet a fellow from the leisure, parks and gardens department. I told him I wanted three plots. 'Oh, how lovely, Sir Mark,' he said. Then he asked if the other two were for Lady Prescott and my son and heir. I told him that wasn't the case. It was just that I didn't want any f***er next to me. I want to be in the middle with two spare slots either side, otherwise I might end up next to someone who was anti-fieldsports for the rest of eternity."

The burial will be just part of a packed programme.

"I've planned the whole day," he reveals with relish. "We're going to have proper hymns and I've left instructions to the person doing the eulogy that states, 'Don't spare the superlatives. I shan't be at all embarrassed.'

"It’s going to be lovely. Anyone I've left anything to is being invited to the lunch beforehand, after which there's the church service. Once we've had that, everyone comes back to the marquee for high tea. I've even done the seating plan, which includes a few little in-jokes. I hope people enjoy it. I shall."

Does this all mean Prescott is religious?

"Yes, to a degree," he says. "You don't want to be wrong, do you? You could look stupid in the queue."

Sir Mark Prescott and long-time assistant William Butler in the covered school at Heath House StablesCredit: Edward Whitaker

Stupidity is not something associated with a 76-year-old who has been the master of Heath House since 1970. As we head out into the yard, Prescott's protege, business partner and eventual successor William Butler is ready to provide thoughts and input during evening stables, for which pupil assistant Ben James is poised in a pair of shorts.

"Good evening, sir," says James.

"Ben, I don't like the look of your knee," replies James's employer, who then moves down a line of horses that includes Royal Ascot winner Pledgeofallegiance, German Oaks aspirant Lingua Franca and stable newcomer Tasmania, whose entries include the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe, won to much rejoicing by Prescott with Alpinista two years ago. That was one of the great days. Much less enjoyable was the defeat of Godsend when 5-4 favourite for his handicap debut three weeks ago.

"This is a fine beast," says Prescott as he runs down one of the Nathaniel gelding's hind legs. "He was a beaten favourite at Lingfield where I don't think he did a stroke. His coat didn't look right when he came home and I haven't worked him since because, when you've had a cock-up, the big thing is to get everything right before you try again. I think he looks about ready to work next week."

Butler, James and Buckerfield continue inspecting the Heath House squad as Prescott takes his interviewer to the garden via a brief stop in the kitchen where he mixes lemonade with cordial and confirms Buckerfield's prior assertion that nobody knows how to work his oven.

"I've never used it and, to my knowledge, nobody ever has tried," he says. "We don't go in for fancy fare at Heath House. We want things that can be prepared, eaten and washed up in 11 minutes. That's my timescale, unless I'm reading the paper."

This begs an inquiry about his preferred reading material.

"I have the Telegraph, which you would have guessed, the Racing Post and the Sunday Times," says Prescott. "I used to have the much-lamented News of the World because I loved the scandal and gossip. I don't think The Sun on Sunday provides the same quality of smut."

One would imagine topics of an altogether more refined nature were discussed when Prescott enjoyed lunch at Windsor Castle as a guest of the King and Queen on the second day of the royal meeting. After eating, he formed part of the royal procession, travelling down the track where the previous afternoon his Victorious Racing-owned Pledgeofallegiance had won the Ascot Stakes, following which Prescott was informed by ITV's Matt Chapman he was ending a drought that stretched back to Pivotal's 1996 success in the King's Stand Stakes.

"After I pranced in, rather pleased with myself, Mr Chapman greeted me with the news John Major had been prime minister when I last stood in the winner's enclosure at Royal Ascot," says Prescott. "Personally, I thought it was admirable I kept going in the face of such little success.

"It was a fantastic day. Any trainer will tell you nothing is better than winning a big race on the first day of a festival. It means you can spend the rest of the week saying, 'Not at all, thank you very much.' I was particularly pleased for the owners. They wanted a Derby winner but then entered into the spirit of trying to get him to win at Ascot."

Assuming Pledgeofallegiance performs pleasingly in the Goodwood Stakes, there will be a tilt at the Cesarewitch, a handicap his trainer has yet to plunder despite sending "two certainties" to the Rowley Mile. If fate really is kind, he hopes the young stayer will next year progress to Cup races. In a wider sense, however, Prescott paints an uncertain picture of the future.

Sir Mark Prescott with Pledgeofallegiance following the stayer's victory in the Ascot StakesCredit: Patrick McCann

"When you looked down from the top of the stand at Ascot, you couldn't see anything wrong with British racing – and yet we know there are terrible troubles," he says.

"I do have worries, and I think that's because of my love of history, which shows you everything has its time. Things we find enjoyable and interesting, another generation will find boring and shocking. I wonder whether the same fate that has befallen coursing and greyhound racing is going to overtake horseracing.

"The authorities have done wonderful work, and John Gosden has shown us how to say the right things, but we can't rely on him being there every time we need him. We must educate our people. Every licensed individual should go on a course and be made completely au fait with the arguments for racing, so that if they had to debate with someone who perhaps wasn't well informed, they could stand up for the sport in a way that didn't make them look privileged or entitled."

Prescott adds: "Racing has a fantastic argument. If you were a horse in the prairies with an infected foot, you would hobble around for three days and then get gobbled up, your bowels eaten first by wild dogs while you were still alive. Here, the horse gets a poultice, antibiotics and is as right as rain three days later. 

"I know being a racehorse is a tough job because being an athlete is tough. Our job as trainers is to accustom them well to the task they've been bred to do and make sure we look after them."

Prescott continues to excel at that job, but having mused on what might be the sport's existential threat, he raises a problem for racing that is all too real in the here and now.

"As with all sports, the big in racing are getting bigger and the small are getting smaller," he says. "None of this is Willie Mullins' fault, though. I had lunch with him not long ago. I'm not a slow eater but by the time I got to the black forest gateau, he had trained five winners. It was extraordinary. He kept looking down at his phone because another one had won. No wonder everybody goes to him."

Sir Mark Prescott: "I know being a racehorse is a tough job because being an athlete is tough"Credit: Edward Whitaker

Prescott notes that, once upon a time, owners were keener to support their local trainer. That prompts a drift into nostalgia and a question about one of Heath House's former riders, Ray Still, who recently spoke to the Racing Post in a feature on the Injured Jockeys Fund's Spanish holiday.

"Oh, yes, a lovely man," says Prescott. "I often heard him falling out of bed when Mrs Still was telling me he was on his way to work."

There follows, thanks be to God, an anecdote.

"I remember we once had a runner at Carlisle, back when there were fewer motorways," he says. "You had to go racing in those days, otherwise you wouldn't see your horses run. If you weren't there anything could happen – and up north it did. 

"I told Ray I would drive to Wolverhampton. Once we got there I settled down in the passenger seat for a short kip. When I looked up, we hadn't made much progress. Ray pointed to the car in front and said he had been stuck behind him for ten miles. I told Ray to get him out the way. 'How do I do that?' he asked. 'Give him a flash,' I said. 

"Ray was so nice and only gave him a tiny little flash, which did nothing. I then told Ray to give him a hoot. He responded with a meek little beep. 'Come on, Ray, come on,' I shouted and really jammed on the horn. The driver in front still wouldn't move over. 

"'Give him a bump,' I said to Ray, who didn't seem awfully keen. He did it but even that didn't work. Eventually we got to some cones, so I told Ray to nip up the car's inside. As we went by, the other driver put on his hat. He was a copper. I slipped back into the seat and said, 'You're on your own now, Ray.'"

This triggers more laughter than was likely heard at the time.

"Once he pulled us over, I pretended to be fast asleep," says Prescott. "As Ray got back in the car, I told him he would be okay and that it was only the copper's word against his. 'The copper,' said Ray, 'is Colonel Sir Eric St Johnston, chief constable of Lancashire.' The court case came up and I ended up driving Ray for six months."

Cue more laughter.

"He had lovely hands," says Prescott. "The nicest man, a gentle fellow."

Ray Still, pictured with wife Mary, was a regular rider for Sir Mark Prescott

Prescott is less impressed with the politicians fighting for votes at next week's general election.

"I'm not a rabid Conservative," he points out, although nor was he ever a Corbynista. "The current lot don't deserve to be in power and the other lot have their loony side that always tends to pull them down. I suppose it's just refreshing that we haven't got Biden and Trump. I've actually voted already. It was with a heavy heart that I put my cross where I did."

His decision to support anyone was partly out of respect for Ellen Challoner, who in 1886 became Britain's first female trainer when granted a licence to operate out of Osborne Stables, which now forms part of the Heath House complex.

"She went to vote two days before she died aged 98," says Prescott. "When I was thinking, 'Am I going to vote for any of these arseholes?', I thought if Mrs Challoner could vote at the age of 98 and with not much of a future, I should certainly fill in my form and send it off." 

While respect for politicians appears to slip from one year to the next, Prescott's standing in public opinion has never been greater. He is one of racing's true national treasures. He is also one who believes popularity is transient.

"I think it's fragile," he says. "I train for John Brown, who said that after he stopped being head of William Hill he never got an invitation to anything. Ron Sheather was such a good trainer and he was doing well the year he retired, so I asked him why on earth he was stopping. He said he couldn't face ringing anyone else with bad news. I asked him what he was looking forward to. He said, 'The phone not ringing.' Three months later I asked him how retirement was going. He said, 'What I hadn't realised is that the phone would never ring again.' 

"What Ron said registered with me. For as long as I'm healthy and well, I would like to carry on at full whack. I've always liked training and I still find it enormously stimulating. I think I enjoy it as much as I ever did."

Sir Mark Prescott with his second lot as horses pick grass in the Plantation at the top of Warren HillCredit: Edward Whitaker

Prescott knows this may not be exactly what his long-time number two would like to hear. Absolutely not in doubt is that he holds Butler in the highest regard.

"William is an important part of why I can keep going," says Prescott, who moves from sincerity to humour when suggesting Butler's competitive streak might lead him to being a little less than forgiving of riders who err. "I've had three jockeys in 56 years," he says. "I rather suspect William might have 56 in three."

It's the sort of witty punchline that makes Prescott the very best of company. He is in constant demand, not just from journalists and the media but also from those staging functions. They love Prescott the trainer but also Prescott the performer. It comes as a surprise to discover he does not relish performing.

"I've cut speaking appearances right down," he says. "Having to make a speech spoils a lovely lunch or evening. Everyone else is having a marvellous time but you are racked with nerves. It's great when you hear laughing, but people will also always come up and complain, saying: 'That was jolly good, old chap, and at least we didn't have to hear one we've heard before.' It's not for me."

Yet the truth is even the old ones are still good ones. There are more stories to be told back in the house where televisions are switched on prior to a race at Ffos Las in which a Heath House maiden finishes second. The filly's incomparable, indefatigable trainer will keep trying to make her a winner. There is much to be done before a marquee goes on the lawn.

Read these next:

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