TURF PENCILLINGS.

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 4, Issue 220, 6 December 1860, Page 4

TURF PENCILLINGS.

[From the Sydney Weekly Empire.']

The especial purpose of a handicap is to level all distinctions. It is based on a pure republican principle. The sovereignty of weight shall level all distinctions of worth. A charming idea, but a pure fiction, like all other doctrines of equality ! because no reasonable difference of weight can bring a bad horse, with indifferent lungs, on a par with a racehorse on a long course. “ We all know that in the spring, a Canezou or a Flying Dutchman, with eleven stone, would gallop ail the bad three-year-olds to a standstill carrying a feather.” No writes Admiral Rous, the acknowledged best judge of the capabilities of a racehorse in England ; and yet, in spite of this clever and impartial statement, the authorities in posse in this colony still persist in adhering to the old fallacy of light handicaps, and of no horse being weighted at more than the amount specified to be carried in the all-age races, over the different courses as laid down in the Admiral’s scale. As to the weights alone breaking the horse down in ’ tlie race, it is no such thing, even with eleven or twelve stone on his back, except by chance ; the mischief is done before his race. The constant severe work most horses are subjected to is the cause. Day after day, and week after week, they work, and mostly from the same spot to the same finish, without a day’s rest, not even on a Sunday ; they get so tired and weary, and so disheartened, that unless they refuse their coni, and get a little walking, they are kept on and tried time after time, till something must give way ; and that happens most likely just before they have to run, as they are sent on a little further and faster if they are able to do it. When the race comes off they are then tried- to their utmost, and when fully extended in tlie last quarter of a mile, with perhaps a jockey up that has been wasted and starved some days to. ride him, the jockey tires as well as .his lio'rse, and- though having the will has not the power to hold the horse at that critical time, to prevent his changing his legs for his final rush, and then he breaks down, when, had his jockey been in his full strength, he would have landed him safe. Look back at tlie extraordinary power of old Nam Chifney and James Robinson in their day horses never appeared to be fully extended even at the last moment. They had such strength in their arms they never let their horse’s head loose, and some of us can still recollect old Sam. Did he ever make running with his own will ? He always held; his horse’s head. You never saw the reins loose; he had them, as he expressed himself,' ! as though they were made of silken thread, land was afraid of breaking it. Can the light | weights ride like those great artists of past times? Although they have the wish, they have not thempower, only on certain horses, and wlieii obliged to waste, even then in long and severe races they tire; and who can blame them ? Norses do not often break down in the beginning of their race or their exercise ; it is when they are over extended and not held together by the head to balance their power in their stride. Let us read Admiral Rous’s description of the performance of a light weight and indifferent jockey, on a race-

horse good enough to win the field of battle, the Cse-arewitch Stakes, and it will explain how many races are lost. “At starting, the rider who sits craning over his horse’s neck, not having collected him on his haunches, loses about ten lengths, and then unfortunately recollecting his orders to ‘ get well off,’ he rams the spurs into his horse to regain his place ; at the end of half a mile he has run the gauntlet through the crowd, and is just behind the first ruck, a little the worse for his premature exertions; the pace very strong, owing to the light weights racing for the lead ; going through the ‘ ditch’ he is third ; at the

‘ bushes,’ he is fighting, for the leading with a feather-weight on a three years old; in the ‘ half mile bottom ’ the young one declines ; his place is immediately occupied by a second and third horse. He races with each and with every horse which shows; he dreams of no enemy but the one in front; sixty yards from home he is still a neck in advance, but be feels his horse sinking ; his nearest antagonists are apparently in difficulties; what is to be done ? He spurs, but no response ; by that act he momentarily slackens his reins ; the horse changes his leg; lie has lost the lead ; as the last resource up goes the whip, he rolls about in his saddle, and extracts the last effort within two lengths of the winning post.” Let us now place an artist on the same horse for the same race—“ At starting, he collects his horse, and sitting back on his saddle, shoots him off in the first flight, then steadies him till he settles down gradually into deep tunning; the light weights are rattling away with some speedy old gentleman in front making desperate play the first mile to clear the way for a favourite, or to damage some particular friend. But our jockey is not to be tempted to ride that pace, which cannot last, and at the end of the first mile, when they go through the ‘ ditch,’ he is seventy yards from the leading horses, and he shows no inclination to improve his position. At the ‘ R.M.’ starting post, the great playmaker having fired off his gun, the pace suddenly slackens, and our artist gradually creeps up; at the ‘ bushes ’ he is within three lengths of the first flight, and having calculated in his mind the amount of danger in his front, he looks anxiously behind him to see what is close, and if there is any old jockey ready to pounce upon him. /f there is nothing to fear in that quarter, he feels his horse with his spurs, holding him fast by the head, and ascertain ing that he can go up when lie likes, lie settles himself within fighting distance. The young jockeys are racing in front for the lead, they are'rising the last hill, but he still keeps out of the fight, because the pace is too unnatural to last, and he can therefore afford to stay away. There is a set-to in front, spurs are hitting, whips are striking, and our jockey, having declined the first struggle, again looks for a rival behind, and seeing nothing to fear collects his horse for the final struggle, makes one run, and clears his antagonist on the post.” Such races and such riders were common in England, formerly—was the like ever witnessed on this side of the equator ?