_Photo by W. A. Kouch and Co._]
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The Lincolnshire Handicap day, upon which the pecuniary success of the
meeting mainly depends, was very disappointing to the executive, the
attendance being quite poor for the occasion. The field, which consisted
of twenty-four, has been described as a poor one for quality, but it
seemed to me to strike the average. We cannot have a Bendigo or a
Clorane every year; as a matter of detail, a horse of this class appears
about once every ten years. According to the papers, certain horses were
at the top of the betting quotations, but as a visit to the leading club
five days previous to the race revealed precisely three bookmakers,
representing only two firms, seated at the fire, it is probable that the
volume of betting was not great. There was some on the day of the race,
however; and in these days of degenerate wagering it was interesting to
learn that one layer stood £30,000 against M. Ephrussi’s Ob. It was not
difficult to lay that amount, for the lowest price at which the French
horse was quoted was 20 to 1, plenty of smaller money being got on at 25
to 1. Ob had won three races in France under good weights as a
four-year-old; but probably his failure to make any show in last year’s
City and Suburban made the greater impression. The English money was
chiefly for Roseate Dawn, upon whom Newmarket pinned its faith, and Dean
Swift, the last-named coming with such a rush in the betting as to oust
Roseate Dawn from favouritism. The public were not far out, for if the
race had been run over again Dean Swift would probably, and Roseate Dawn
possibly, have been returned the winner. The delay at the start was
something terrible, but a very good one took place. Dean Swift and
Roseate Dawn, however, began so badly as to look quite out of it in the
earlier stages of the race, whereas Ob was amongst the leading lot; the
actual first being the last Cambridgeshire winner, Velocity, and Catty
Crag. Each in turn fell away, and Ob was left in command. Dean Swift
bore down upon him, with great effect, a very exciting finish resulting.
Dean Swift actually got his head in front, but Ob finished the
straighter and won by a head, Roseate Dawn making up some lengths from
the distance, and finishing a length behind Dean Swift.
For the Brocklesby it was elected to plump for the St. Simon—Satirical
filly, chiefly on the strength of a trial at home with a stable
companion that won the day before. In appearance she justified the
comparisons that were made to a hare and a whippet respectively, but she
was all the more thought likely to win over the four-furlong scramble so
early in the year, better furnished ones in Luisis, a bay filly by
Orvieto—Filipena, and a colt by Galashiels—Brenda, being looked upon as
likely to be seen to advantage later on. No doubt they will be, but as
they were they were more than equal to the Satirical filly, who had
every chance to win, for she was once in front, but was beaten fair and
square.
Lincoln itself has not gone with the times in keeping the town clear of
thieves and similar undesirables. One of the hotels greatly frequented
by racing people was “gone over” to some purpose. Until recently “till
frisking” was a favourite pastime of these gentry at Lincoln, but
hotel-keepers have learned to protect themselves by means of pugilistic
looking barmen more at home at the East End of London, probably. In the
meantime the need of the town is a chief constable such as we have at
Chester and Brighton. Brighton, at race times, is a place completely
changed from what it was a few years since, when it was not safe to walk
the streets in the evening.
“Of course there will not be so many present this year, because the King
is not coming.” This, with variants, was a frequent remark made
anticipatory of the Liverpool Spring Meeting. But the prophets were
wrong, for the crowd on the Grand National day was greater than ever. On
each of the three days the paddock was a sight, and it is palpable that
with the better classes of Liverpool the races have become more popular
than ever. The weather that prevailed on all three days left no excuse
for non-attendance, there being plenty of sunshine and a splendid light
for seeing the racing, this being no small matter on a course measuring
two miles and a quarter in circuit. On the first day the Union Jack
Stakes for three-year-olds and the Liverpool Spring Cup were the chief
events of a card containing eight races, the unusual number being
necessitated in order to bring the programme within the conditions. The
Union Jack Stakes might, on occasion, serve as an early public trial for
the Derby, and, as a matter of fact, Mr. L. de Rothschild’s Radium had
actually been nibbled at for the Epsom race, although his connections
were under no illusions as to his lack of quality. But the public
thought they knew better and took even money about Radium, whereas
another de Rothschild, Mr. J. A., from the Continent, really owned the
pea in Beppo, who won in nice style from Bridge of Canny, Radium third,
well beaten. In the Spring Cup, Ypsilanti was expected to carry his 9 st
2 lb. first past the post. But there were others too much for him; Flax
Park, who is one of those that dislike the look of the starting-gate,
leading from end to end. A bay colt by Isinglass—Queen Fairy, named
Gnome, showed good form in the Molyneux Stakes, getting away so badly as
to appear out of it, but mowing down the others in fine style in the
end.
It has been the fate of thousands to attend Aintree for the purpose of
witnessing the Grand National and see little or nothing of it, but snow
has been the cause. This year, however, in the finest weather there were
several who saw nothing of the race, the reason being the simple one
that the stands were overcrowded with those that came. An hour before
the race was due prudent spectators took their seats on the roof, and
those who dallied over the horses in the paddock arrived aloft to find
the passage to the top choked with waiting people. For some time
previously the racing world had been divided into two sections, one
section declaring that John M.P. would not get the course—not half of
it, said a subdivision of this section—the other section believing that
he would make light of the jumps and win with ease. But the unexpected
is always lying in wait upon competitors in the Grand National.
That those who believed in John M.P. were largely in the majority was
shown by his being made a strong favourite at 7 to 2, the second
favourites being at 10 to 1. A judge of a steeplechaser could scarcely
do otherwise than declare for John M.P., for he is about the ideal of
what a chaser could be, and nothing better has been seen at Aintree.
Then it was difficult to see which of his twenty-two opponents possessed
sufficient class to be entitled to win in his place, for they all had
flaws in their credentials for winning over such a country. Given that
John M.P. was to fall, which of the others was to stand up all the way?
That was the difficult problem to be solved. Drumcree, the winner in
1903, would probably get the course, but he had been on the shelf for
two years, and his appearance at Kempton Park did not suggest sufficient
go to win again, even with the best of them on the floor. The sequel
spelt catastrophe for John M.P. He did not fall, but what he did do
amounted to the same thing, so far as his chance of winning was
concerned. He travelled exceedingly well for over a mile, and when he
went some lengths clear between Becher’s and Valentine’s brooks, it
seemed as though his natural speed was carrying him to the front without
an effort. At the jump before Valentine’s, the course takes a curve to
the left. Just here enormous numbers of spectators are always assembled,
and much enthusiasm is displayed, the appearance of John M.P. leading
clear being naturally productive of an extra amount. It is reasonably
thought that the cheering distracted the horse’s attention. He was
certainly not minding his business, and before he was aware of it he was
at the fence, under the guard rail of which he slipped, going into the
ditch. For the rest, Aunt May, getting the course for once in a way,
showed momentarily in front a mile from home, and Ascetic’s Silver,
Oatlands, Gladiator, Timothy Titus, Red Lad, and Pierre were all in the
hunt. One by one they fell out till only Ascetic’s Silver, Red Lad, and
Aunt May were left. Ascetic’s Silver was the only one to jump the
remaining fences cleanly, and he did so in a way that was worthy of his
jumping blood. He raced away from the other two, who bungled the last
fence and gained a most meritorious victory. Whilst one cannot win
without the horse, much of the merit must be given to Mr. Aubrey
Hastings, trainer and rider of the winner. The time has gone by when the
gentleman trainer was an object of commiseration with the profession,
for he is now quite a power in the Turf world, and the circumstance is a
remarkable one. Too much credit cannot be given to Mr. Hastings in thus
consummating a long period of patience, not unaccompanied by some
personal inconvenience.
To continue the story of John M.P., the circumstances of his mishap were
such that he was started on the following day for the Champion
Steeplechase, again being a good favourite. His jumping soon became a
subject of remark, for he screwed badly at three fences. The distance is
three miles, and more than half a mile from home John M.P. was a beaten
horse. He jumped the remainder of the fences, but he passed the post
very tired.
The thing was inexplicable, and, in one respect, though certainly not in
another, it was a relief to learn later on that John M.P. had strained
himself badly on the first day on the occasion of his mishap, and that,
on the whole, it was a wonderful thing that he got the course in any
shape or form.
The Champion Steeplechase had a painful sequel. Apollino had won the
race last year, and by reason of penalties for winning four races over
£100 each, should have carried 12 st. 4 lb. The fact was as clear as
noonday to any one perusing the conditions, and the correct weight duly
appeared on the card. The jockey was weighed out in accordance with
this, but eventually started carrying only 12 st. After a meritorious
display Appolino repeated his last year’s victory, and, apparently,
another 7 lb. would have made no difference. Alas, on returning to scale
an objection was lodged on the score of wrong weight, and the stewards
had no alternative to disqualification. Plenty of people in the ring, be
it remarked, had worked out the matter for themselves and shouted their
readiness to back the second, who was Royal Bow II., as soon as he had
passed the post.
With Northampton already forgotten, it was a pleasure to take one’s way
to Newbury, which reigns in its stead, and appears likely to do so for
some time, if appearances go for anything. By means of a chart the Great
Western Railway show how very simple it is to reach the course from
anywhere else in England. Going from London, last year’s experiences
were repeated, trains doing the 53 miles from Paddington under the hour.
The meeting was lucky in having lovely weather, and the drying winds had
made the going quite firm, dust even flying on the course. Fields were
large, one totalling thirty, and there seemed to be plenty of people.
Large attendances will be necessary if the system of good stakes is to
be persevered in, for simple arithmetic showed that these were far from
paying their way. This is a little difficulty from which no racecourse,
however popular, can be exempt, and the question of finance will crop up
at Newbury, as elsewhere. What strikes one at Newbury is the absence of
much of the stress and worry that attend most meetings. In the members’
enclosure are seen many faces that are not familiar on the metropolitan
courses, and the feeling of being locally supported is prominent. The
lovely surroundings and ample space give the place a freedom that is
very welcome. Mr. John Porter, in his position of Managing Director, is
always on the spot, rendered quite young again with new duties. He had
introduced a novelty from Australian racecourses in the shape of a
stewards’ observation stand, a skeleton structure of considerable
elevation designed to enable stewards to see for themselves what has
transpired during a course of bumping or crossing. The stand was placed
forty yards or so above the winning post, and it is thought that it
would be more serviceable at about the distance. Whether stewards would
care to walk this distance for each race may be doubtful. Stipendiary
stewards would, of course, do so as a mere matter of routine duty. We
can imagine the berth being an exceedingly cold one during spring and
autumn racing.
On the first day we had the Newbury Spring Cup of £1,250, distance a
mile. The Thrush looked splendid, and Ob’s Lincoln penalty giving him
the same weight of 9 st., he was practically out of it with Thrush, who
had won over this very course at the opening meeting in splendid style.
Roseate Dawn and Velocity were running; Roseate Dawn doing well, though
not well enough to beat Succory, who won rather easily. On the second
day the Kingsclere Stakes of £1,000, distance a mile and a quarter, saw
Colonia making her essay as a three-year-old. She ran badly, but not
more so than many anticipated, from her appearance in the paddock,
although she was lively enough in the canter, and was beaten when a mile
had been covered. The race was won in sensational fashion, Madden on the
Gressoney colt, having made the best of his way home to such purpose as
to appear to have the race at his mercy. Bridge of Canny, Maher up, came
on the scene at the distance, however, and gained rapidly. Still, his
getting up did not seem feasible, but a terrific finish, which took us
back to the old times when electric rushes on the post were the rule
rather than the exception, gave Bridge of Canny the race by a head. This
success gave Maher his five hundredth winning mount in England.