OTHER GREAT HORSES 41 



three years, won the Futurity at Caulfield, with a twenty-one pound allowance; 

 as a four-year-old he took the Cup, the St. George's Stakes, the Essendon 

 Stakes, the All-Aged Stakes, and the Autumn Stakes. And at five years the 

 Eclipse again fell to him, after which he retired. But Trafalgar, his arch enemy, 

 secured twenty-four high-class races, and raced on until he was seven years old. 

 He won at distances varying between nine furlongs and three miles, but the 

 farther he went the better he liked it, and, strangely enough, he appeared to be 

 gaining in speed as he grew older. And he never left an oat in his manger, 

 and would clean up everything that was offered him, even when undergoing 

 a course of physic, while his legs were of iron. I would not have liked to go into 

 his box by myself, nor without his boy at his head. He was a sour old dog, and 

 did not like to be disturbed in his castle. 1 have seen him "round " on his 

 trainer and eject him without much ceremony from his box when in an ill 

 humour. But I have no doubt that after he went out of training, and had 

 liberty, and not too much strapping, he became the mildest mannered horse 

 that ever won a race or cut a rival's throat. 1 fear, however, that he is not 

 a success at the stud, although a sure foal-getter. Comedy King, on the other 

 hand, sires innumerable gallopers, from hurdle jumpers up to the winners of 

 the greatest prizes to be gained on the turf to-day. And I think you would 

 have anticipated the destiny of the pair had you seen them often in their daily 

 lives. 



Of the horses of the last lustrum it is difficult to speak, and, indeed, 

 before history has had time to give her verdict, it might be injudicious to open 

 one's mouth. But I can safely say this: I never saw a performance in my life 

 which equalled that of Artilleryman in the Melbourne Cup of 1919. He had 

 been a somewhat uncertain performer in his two-year-old days. As a three- 

 year-old he had run Richmond Main, a very good colt, a dead heat in the 

 A.J.C. Derby, and had been well beaten by the same horse in the V.R.C. 

 classic event, a few weeks after. But there were extenuating circumstances, 

 I admit, in the latter race. In the Cup, three days later, running next the rails, 

 and in a fair, but not a too flattering position as the field streamed to the bend, 

 Lewis, his rider, perceiving a clear space ahead of him, shot his colt through, 

 and in a very few seconds the contest was all over. Artilleryman, with his 

 weight-for-age on his back, simply squandered the field. The official verdict 

 was six lengths. The photographers made it at least a dozen. The eyesight 

 of the excited spectators pronounced the gap between the winner and 

 Richmond Main, the second horse, at anything varying between a hundred 

 yards and a quarter of a mile. From a coign of vantage, unhampered by the 

 crowd, and in a semi-official capacity, I judged the brown horse to be over 

 ten lengths to the good as he passed the winning post. This great colt won 

 his autumn engagements at Flemington, although to the professional eye there 

 was something not quite all right about his physical state at that time. Never- 

 theless, he travelled on to Sydney, w^here he was badly beaten in all his 

 engagements. It then transpired that all was not well with him. A swelling 

 had made its appearance both on the outside and on the inside of his near 

 thigh, and his near hock was enlarged. Unfortunately, the trouble went on 

 from bad to worse, and in a few months this great son of Comedy King 

 succumbed, dying, strange to say, within a few hours of Mr. Alec Murphy, who 

 was a partner in the horse with his friend Sir Samuel Hordern. 



The verdict, as I write, has not yet been pronounced upon the risen sun 

 of to-day, Eurythmic. That he is a very good horse indeed, there can be little 

 doubt. That he is a really great one is not yet quite certain. The best of judges 

 point out that Eurythmic has been tremendously lucky; that he has never met 



