HORSE RACING.

Tuapeka Times, Volume V, Issue 241, 12 September 1872, Page 8

HORSE RACING.

(" Examiner" )

In old days, whatever might be said of the brutality and vulgarity of the prize-ring, it was at any rate certain that it was patronised by gentlemen, and that " the gladiators " — as they iwere called — who stepped into the arena, fought to win. Nowadays, the worst feature of a prize-ring, always more or less brutal and disreputable in itself, became doomed as soon as an idea grew up that a fight was a matter the issue of which was pre-arranged. A similar notion has grown up about horse-racing. No one now supposes that the best horse among the starters will be declared the winner. It is known that the horses are the property of the book-makers and that the boolcmakers decide which horse is and which is not to win. And in that one " if " so many contingencies are involved that no one can pretend to be certain whether the best horse will win or not.

It would need a skilful casuist to distinguish in the present case between cause and effect. Year by year there has been more and more betting about the Derby, and year by year the Derby itself has sunk much lower and lower. It is clear that racing has lost caste, although it is difficult to determine where precisely the change for the worse has begun. We all seem to feel that in the old days racing was as national and as manly an amusement as cricket, and that it is now as little worth preservation as prizefighting itself. That the change must have begun as soon as a body of men gr jw up who made it their business to live by racing, and to make money out of it, it is easy enough to to see. This change has taken place somewhat within the last twenty years. It is now thoroughly effected. And all that still keeps racing alive is the old prestige yet lingering, round it, of the days when it was honourable sport conducted by honourable gentlemen. Hence it is that year by year the Derby has become more and more vulgarised. Ten years ago it was a great national event. Twenty years ago it was the great national event of the year. Now it is fast sinking into a superior sort of suburban carnival, the special property of betting men and licensed victuallers. Xear by 'year the character of the visitors to " our natioual Olympia " perceptibly deteriorates ; " the road down " becomes less and less select ; " the road back " becomes more rowdy and disreputable. Year by year it become? easier and easier for our public moralists to pomt to the sad and dark side of the picture, and less and less easy for that talented person — our special correspondent —to awaken ten-times repeated sketches of the Downs and of the " event " itself. In short, the day is fast approaching when the " Echo " will discover that the Perby is not a more "beautiful" or "wonderful" sjght $asw the City &nd Suburb^,

or the. Phesfcer Cup, or the Hampton Tradesmen's' Stakes, or any other similar piece of pot-hunting. In the various panaceas which have been suggested for the present condit'on of the*turf, no sensible man will have any great confidence. Mr.' Thomas Hughes, whose hobby it is to make everything good and respectable by Act of Parliament, wants to forbid the two-year-old racing, and to pass various penal enactments against betting, in order to make book-making impossible. That racing is no longer in the hands of gentlemen is clear enough. But what particular device, if any, will persuade gentlemen to take racing up again, is another matter. It is to be feared that our national sport has ceased to be our national sport in the truest and best sense of the word. Sixty years ago gentlemen used to attend prize-fights, and to breed game-cocks. Now they do neither. And even if a prize-fight or a cock-fight were not illegal in itself it yet is perfectly certain that any attempt to revive either sport will be a fiasco. What has befallen the prizering is rapidly befalling the turf. Before very long the Derby will cease to be a matter about which anybody takes the least interest. It will not be even worth the while of the moralist to flap his wings at its expense. It will, probably, never involve more vice and riot than at present. But it will certainly become more and more vulgar and commonplace ; fewer drags will go down, and more omnibuses; fewer gentlemen will enter horses to win, and more book-makers will enter horses to win or lose, according to the state of the market. And, at last, the Derby will become what it all but is already — a very big race meeting, with nothing but its size to distinguish it from any other. Long before that time the House will have ceased to adjourn for it ; the special correspondent will have ceased to describe it ; and the leading article writer will have ceased to waste upon it hia scathing satire. Its death is now the merest matter of time. Epsom, of course, which lives by ifc, will do all that can be done to keep it alive ; and there will possibly be, fifteen years hence, some sort of feeble attempt to revive public interest. But the thing will fail as hopelessly as would an attempt to revive bull-baiting. Whether it is a pity that racing should thus expire, and whether our breed of horses will not deteriorate, is another question. We are, at present, only concerned to observe what is actually going on. For years and years the turf has been sinking lower and lower. Handicaps of all sorts, two-year-old meetings, attd unpleasant scandals have gone on multiplying. The old prestige of the Derby has for a long time enabled it to hold its own. Even it, however, has at last become fairly vulgarised. Before long, it will cease to be a national holiday, and will come to be recognised as a national nuisance.