The racing season of 1905 is a thing of the past, and I think that even
the most optimistic will scarcely look upon it with feelings of
unqualified satisfaction. There has been a feeling of dulness at many of
the meetings which on occasion almost became depression. Many races
which looked so well upon paper have fizzled out and been won by horses
which, if not moderate, were at any rate not in the first class; and
there has undoubtedly been a lot of very moderate horses indeed running,
and, what is worse, winning races.
In these days it seems dangerous to write or talk about the thoroughbred
horse. There are some to whom the very name is anathema, associated in
their minds only with short distance racing and the routine of Turf
life. To them a thoroughbred horse is full of every equine
imperfection—light in bone, faulty in conformation, weak in
constitution. Others, again, see in the thoroughbred nothing but good.
We have, say they, as good horses as ever we had, and better, and they
are as extravagant in their optimism as their opponents are in their
pessimism.
It is not my intention to take sides with either of these parties. They
are quite able to fight their own battles, with more or less acrimony,
without any interference of mine. I purpose, however, to mention a few
things which have come under my own notice, and to make a few
suggestions about the horse, which at his best is undoubtedly the best
type of the equine race the world has seen, the English thoroughbred.
It has been customary of late to speak of the sixties, seventies, and
eighties as the palmy days of the English thoroughbred, and it will, I
think, be generally admitted that we had a smaller proportion of
moderate horses and more really good horses in the three decades
mentioned than we have had since. That we have had quite as good horses
as the best of them in the last fifteen years I readily admit, and the
names of Common, Galtee More, Flying Fox, Ard Patrick, Persimmon,
Sceptre, and Pretty Polly come trippingly off the tongue. But it is too
true that we have a lot of very inferior horses running, and it is no
argument to say that a race takes more winning than it used to do, as is
sometimes said when an attempt is made to bolster up the reputations of
the moderate ones. Before the argument will hold water it is necessary
to ask what sort of a race it is.
That a certain amount of deterioration has been seen during the last few
years is, I believe, generally admitted. But there have been lean years
before now, and the deterioration has only been temporary. For instance,
that was not a very grand Derby field in which Palmbearer ran second. It
is our concern to see that the falling off to which I allude is only
temporary; there is the material to work upon, of that I am quite
certain.
It is frequently stated that it is early two-year-old racing and short
distance races which have brought our thoroughbreds to the present
position. This I take leave to doubt. Early two-year-old racing did not
affect the horses of the sixties and seventies, and they got plenty of
it. Neither did short distance racing hurt them, for there were
half-mile handicaps in those days; and we have to look farther than this
for the cause of the decadence. Let us, for the sake of argument, say
that they are more delicate, and that stayers are not so frequently to
be found amongst them. Let us say this for the sake of argument only,
for it is the opinion of the writer, based on experience, that many a
horse that is looked upon as a non-stayer would stay well enough if
given the chance. At any rate, if the proposition is not true, there is
a fear of it becoming so. It is not to the short distance racing that we
should look for a cause, but rather to the absurd fashion for persistent
inbreeding in one line, viz., to the Darley Arabian, to the neglect of
the Byerley Turk strain (of which Herod stood out as one of the best
sires of all time). Inbreeding, when carried to the extent that it has
been carried with us, is sure to have its effect upon the average
members of any breed. Occasionally, it is true, there will be
exceptionally good individuals, but they will be few and far between.
But the case is by no means hopeless; there is no need to try to evolve
any other breed by means of elaborate crossing. All we have got to do is
to use a few vigorous out-crosses. These might not answer for racing
purposes in the first cross, but then, again, they might; but they would
be sure to come out in the second cross. The Shorthorns are an analogous
case. The breed had sunk low indeed through indiscriminate inbreeding,
but a few generations have raised it to greater heights than ever as a
general utility breed.
The temper and soundness of our thoroughbred horses are sources of
considerable anxiety to those who look upon them as something more than
mere instruments of gambling or adjuncts to a sport, and here there is
cause for concern. Never, probably, were there so many rogues running as
there are now, and in the experience of the writer never were there so
many horses with forelegs which, to say the least of it, are continually
on the verge of unsoundness.
Nor is it difficult to see why this is. The racehorse is not used in
accordance with Nature. In his early days his growth is forced by
stimulating food, in order that he may come into the sale ring “a
well-grown yearling.” Long before he is two years old he is broken and
mounted and galloped, and taught to face the starting-gate. He is
“jumped off” from a stand with the whole of the weight he is carrying in
the wrong place—in the place which ensures the strain coming with undue
force on his forelegs. Be it understood that I am not discussing the
starting-gate and its utility on a racecourse; with that I have nothing
to do here. I am merely stating that starting horses at top speed, or as
nearly top speed as is attainable, from a stand, with all the weight on
the top of the shoulders, so that the strain comes fully on to their
sinews, is quite sufficient to account for the “dicky” forelegs and feet
which are so frequent on our modern racecourses.[2]
The artificiality of our modern racing, the multiplication of meetings
at one place, and the gradual decay of the old country meetings,
combined with the immense increase in the value of stakes—an increase,
by the way, which owners principally provide themselves—have all had an
effect on sport which is not altogether advantageous. But where, it may
be asked, can these things have any effect upon the breed of horses as a
breed? They have more effect than at first sight would appear. They tend
to bring racing into fewer hands—into the hands of rich men. They tend
to increase the service fees of stallions. They tend also to shut out
the small man and the small breeder, because they make racing more
expensive.
The old country meetings encouraged the small breeder. His expenses for
entry, &c., were small, and if the stakes to be won were small, his
travelling expenses, jockeys’ fees, &c., were on a similar scale. He
could, if fairly well-to-do, afford to race for sport. For him fashion
had no charm. A practical horse-breeder, he had his own fancies as to
how to mate his mares; he ran his horses at local meetings, was
delighted when he won a fifty pound plate, and his horses travelled in
his neighbourhood and filled it with a good half-bred stock.
It may be said that we cannot go back, that gate-money meetings have
come to stay, and that the country meetings can never be revived.
Perhaps this is so, but if it is, it is all the worse for the Turf, and
for the thoroughbred, the interest in which is undoubtedly dying out in
some parts of the country.
So far I have endeavoured to show how we fail to make the best use of
our thoroughbreds as racehorses; how we breed them injudiciously, feed
them injudiciously, and put too great a strain upon them before their
bone is set. For there can be little doubt but that the strain upon the
young thoroughbred in training is much greater now than when the
starting gate and the modern seat were unknown.
Now I will proceed to the other side of the question—to the thoroughbred
as a general purpose horse. It is obvious that the value of the breed
depends in a great measure upon his qualities of speed, pluck, and
endurance with a man of ordinary weight on his back and doing ordinary
or extraordinary work. On the qualifications of the thoroughbred as a
general purpose horse there are wide differences of opinion and some
very bitter things are said of his lack of stamina and his unsoundness
and many other of his shortcomings which readers can fill in for
themselves. Notwithstanding all these things that are said about him my
own practical experience teaches me that for any purpose, what the late
Whyte Melville described as “a thoroughbred with brains” is the best
horse. The best hunters I have ridden and seen ridden have been
thoroughbred; the best harness horse for work I ever sat behind was
bought out of a selling race for £15, and the late Major Dalbiac, than
whom no better horseman was to be found, told me that the best charger
he ever rode in action was a thoroughbred that had had little
preliminary training. This, of course, is a very different thing to
saying that all thoroughbred horses, or that even a very large
percentage of them, are good hunters, harness horses, or chargers. But
it shows that, if they are fairly used and the most made of them, there
would not need to be such an outcry as there is now as to the scarcity
of good saddle horses.
An out-cross has been alluded to, and unfortunately the famous Herod
line is nearly extinct. But it is not quite extinct, and as the line is
not fashionable, what stallions there are with the Herod blood in their
veins will not be out of the reach of breeders who do not breed for the
sale ring. An Arab out-cross might be very valuable. It is true that the
Arabs have inbred for generations to as great an extent as we have, but
they have not inbred on the same line, and therefore an Arab cross might
be very valuable. It does not necessarily follow that because the Arab
is undersized and light in bone that the offspring of a thoroughbred
mare and an Arab sire would be undersized and light in bone. That it
would be valuable as a racehorse is perhaps open to question, but the
value of the out-cross would be seen in three or four generations, even
for racing purposes. It will probably be urged that it would be an
expensive experiment to try, for it is palpable that such an experiment
should not be tried with a mare of inferior quality. That may be
admitted at once, and the reason of its being expensive is that, owing
to the greatly increased value of stakes in these days, racehorses have
come to have a fictitious market price, and especially stallions which
have a good winning record. But surely there are to be found men who
would run the risk of a problematical loss—in the North there is a
proverb to the effect that a man cannot lose what he has never had—for
the sake of the good which would result to the thoroughbred as a breed.
For once establish the practical value of an out-cross in the
thoroughbred and the result would be the same as it was with the
Shorthorn—every one would hasten to adopt it.
There is also another plan which might be adopted, and it is surprising
that it has not been adopted; and that is the establishment of a small
stud of thoroughbreds, with the avowed object of breeding them for
general purposes, and not for racing. This did not succeed so very badly
in the past, and there is no reason why it should not succeed again. It
is true that a possible Derby winner might be found carrying a man to
hounds[3] or about the country roads, but he would not have cost much to
produce and breed, and would doubtless have been sold at a remunerative
price.
The writer is convinced that a stud of this kind, well managed, would
pay its way, from the way he has seen several purchases at the yearling
sales turn out. It is with some gentlemen a regular custom to attend the
yearling sales, with the view of purchasing youngsters that will develop
into hunters. They never give more than an average of twenty-five
guineas for them, and very rarely is that sum exceeded for an
individual. Care is, of course, taken to pick a big bony, growing colt
or filly, and he or she leads a perfectly natural life from the moment
of arriving at the new home, running out the whole of the winters, but
getting shelter at night and a little corn twice a day. At three years
old they are mouthed, and at four they are broken, and a large
percentage of those that have come under my notice have turned out good
hunters up to from thirteen to fourteen stone.
By doing away with inbreeding on such an extensive scale as it is now
practised, and by treating our horses more fairly in every way—putting
no undue strain on immature young horses—we may find those “careful
steps” which Professor Ridgeway urges should be taken “to preserve our
good breeds and not permit them to be contaminated and destroyed by rash
experiments in breeding.”