THE GRAND NATIONAL.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue VIII, 24 August 1895, Page 231

THE GRAND NATIONAL.

(BY THE WARRIGAL.) A GLORIOUS day for the Grand National! After months of frost and snow and rain, of such wintry weather as New Zealand rarely knows, came bright sunshine and a warmth as if spring was in the air. A beautiful day, calm, clear, and balmy, and such racing as all lovers of the sport desire to see. The arrangements of the Canterbury Jockey Club were excellent, and the Secretary, Mr W. H. E. Wanklyn, is to be congratulated on the smooth running of matters. People from all parts of New Zealand had gathered in Christchurch for the * National,’ for it is a popular meeting, and always shows the best ot sport. Such a large number of people went out by train that nearly every carriage was crowded, but a great many went out by coach and drag just for the pleasure of the drive.

The course was in good condition, the frosts having dried the ground wonderfully. I have never seen Riccarton look so charming. In the early days it was too open and bleak ; but now the plantations of shelter trees are growing into prominent features, and this

gives the course a more home-like appearance, whish is enhanced by the fresh green colour of the grass. The view from the Grand-stand was delightful—the lawn with its promenaders, the crowd outside the railings, a long stretch of smooth grass, then dark pines in miniature forests, and above them the glorious Southern Alps, magnificently arrayed in snow robes, and shining on their frozen slopes like polished silver. I reached the course as the first race was being run, and was in time to see Vagabond, well ridden by Mr B. Wynn-Williams, come in winner of the First Hunters’ Hurdle Race Handicap. Vagabond is one of Mr Grigg’s horses, and was bred and trained at Longbeach. The Vagabond offered professional trainers an interesting lesson. He came in with scarcely a hair turned, and yet I believe he received much the same treatment that Gillie did last year.

The Maiden Hurdles was a capital race. Mr Rothwell’s Invador coming home victor, with good old Gillie, from Longbeach, second. Then came * The Grand National,’ which some reckon the best race in New Zealand. It is a grand race, and encourages a good class of horses, not light-weight racing machines that require men to be specially dwarfed to ride them, but weight-carriers and jumpers—horses with speed and power, that can carry

men with uerves and skill over anything, through anything. One could feel the excitement of a big thing when the eight horses went up to the starting post. Grand old Norton with his owner, Mr S. H. Gollan, on his back. Liberator, P. Butler’s favourite horse, ridden by Fred Holmes’, going forth as if for sure victory, and plucky little Mutiny, carrying G. Hope, moving along in the pink of condition. Mutiny was bred by Mr W. Douglas, and ran on the West Coast of the North Island in hack races, and, O sacrilege ! lie ran in a buggy. And now the one-time despised one takes the foremost place in the racing world of this country. Ah, well, New Zealand is a radical place, thank heaven. A publican can become Premier, a clerk Treasurer, and a buggy horse win the Grand National ; but I am before the race.

Mr Boyle got the horses away in capital order, as he did all through the meeting. Despised, Mr J. Sutton’s horse, took the lead, and after him came thundering big ugly Roscius. He passed Despised in front of the crowd, held the lead half round the course, then Despised passed him, and Liberator came along third, with Mutiny and Norton just behind. At the second fence of the doubles Hope, on Mutiny, showed a splendid bit of horsemanship. Liberator came on to him just at the jump, and a worse horse than Mutiny and a worse rider than Hope would have lost the go ; but the chestnut and the rider knew what they were about, and got over near the wing in gallant style. Little Mutiny tackled the big Roscius and passed him. Liberator tried to do so, but failed. Norton came up and made a desperate effort for the van. and then the race for victory began, and each horse and each rider did his level best. Cries went up for the big horse ‘ Roscius !’ ‘ Rosyious !’ ‘ Rosy cuss I’ • Rossy cuss!’ ‘Roosious!’ then shouts of ‘ Norton !' ‘Norton!’ but they soon changed to ‘Mutiny.’ ‘Well done Mutiny;’ ‘ Mutiny wins.’ And Mutiny did win, and was cheered right lustily, for in this country people love a good horse, and Mutiny, spite of hisplebian antecedents, ran a noble race and well deserved his victory.

In the Tally-Ho Plate Steeplechase, Mr H. Pitt’s Rawai won with ease, and his name was shouted with almost as many variations as Roscius. ‘Ro we,’ Roe-we,’ ‘ Ra-wee,’ anything but the correct ‘ Ra-wy.’

Everybody seemed pleased that Mrs W. O. Rutherford’s mare, Jewel, won the /60 bracelet. The name of the horse was appropriate for the occasion, and the Rutherfords are popular on the turf.

Mr J. Sutton’s Marechai Neil won the ‘ Enfield,’ and T. Sheenan’s Vogengang carried of the status in the Winter Handicap.

To the very last race the public interest was well maintained, and nearly everybody declared that meeting’s Grand National was the pleasantest meeting they had ever known.