Only six mares have won the Championship, and one of these took the race twice. This was Ladybird, who was a New Zealander, and who was victorious when that race was contested over in the Dominion. She was successful in 1863, as a five-year-old, and in 1865. She was not a “Queen.” Not another mare left her name on the champion roll until Quiver, in 1896, when that fine four-year-old dead heated with Wallace. Quiver was a very lengthy bay mare by Trenton from Tremulous, by Maribyrnong out of Agitation (imp.) by Orest. As a two-year-old she did not greatly distinguish herself, winning, out of three attempts, a Nursery at Flemington. At three years she also earned but one bracket, but, starting a hot odds-on favourite for the Oaks, she turned round when the barrier flew up, and took no part in the race. That was the first year of the starting gate, and the Derby, won by The Harvester, was the earliest classic race in which the invention was made use of. Horses were unused to the ropes in those days, and I can see now the look of rather sulky surprise upon the mare’s countenance at what she, no doubt, took for an abominable thing, dangled in the air beside her nose. The field, without her, went off at a slow canter, and had Moore, the jockey, set Quiver going, and followed the others, he would have had no difficulty in catching them in the first half-mile, and it is certain that Quiver would have won. As it was, the whole thing was a novelty, and Moore seemed to lose his head, and to fall into a dream. But there was a great outcry, and the “flatites” reckoned that they had been taken down. Of course, there was nothing in it.
It was as a four-year-old, however, that Quiver earned her title. She commenced with the Spring Stakes at Randwick, and she followed this up with the Randwick Plate over those three long, tiring miles, beating Portsea, amongst others. Tattersall’s Club Cup, two miles, with nine stone two up, came next, and then the Essendon Stakes at Flemington, when she put down Hova, Havoc, Preston and Auraria. And the crown was finally put upon her head when the famous dead heat took place for the Championship with Wallace. The mare was sold and went to India, shortly afterwards, and there she gained further laurels.
I am not just absolutely clear in my mind that Quiver ought to be included in the list of great Queens, but she was the first actually to win an open Championship, for Ladybird only met New Zealanders and does not count, and the finish with Wallace proclaimed the Trenton mare to be a stayer, and a game one to boot. This was a period in our story when good mares flourished. For Lady Trenton, the winner of the Sydney Cup, was a contemporary of Quiver, although she cannot be included amongst the Queens. She was a graceful, beautiful mover, a thorough Trenton, but a handicap mare only. Her pedigree is interesting, in that her dam was the famous Black Swan, by Yattendon from Maid of the Lake, “whose pedigree,” says the Stud Book, “cannot be ascertained.” As Lady Trenton was foaled as lately as 1889, it is a little curious that her grand dam’s pedigree should be wrapped in mystery.
Sir Rupert Clarke’s La Carabine was the Champion winner in 1901 and 1902. She is pronounced unhesitatingly “a Queen.” Her first season did not appear to hold out much hope of mighty deeds in the future; at least, to those who were not acquainted with her domestic history. She was a chestnut, foaled in 1894, by Carbine out of imported Oratava, by Barcaldine, from Tullia, by Petrarch, her dam Chevisaunce, by Stockwell out of Paradigm, by Paragone from Ellen Horne, the maternal ancestress of Bend Or. Her breeder was Mr. O’Shanassy, but it was in the nomination of Mr. Herbert Power that she was launched upon her career as a two-year-old. She was an exceedingly mean-looking creature during her first season.
Being much enamoured of her pedigree, I undertook the long journey to Melbourne from the Murray in order that I might see her perform. I was standing in the saddling enclosure looking out for the filly, when there passed me a mean, ragged-looking, little thing, with a mournful cast of countenance, and she knuckled over on both her hind fetlocks at each step. “What on earth is that miserable little brute?” I inquired from a knowledgeable friend at my side. “Oh! that’s a two-year-old in Jimmy Wilson’s stable. La Carabine they call her.” This was a great shock, and her running that season did not bewray the great possibilities that lay beneath her rather washy chestnut hide. She was successful in a Nursery at Randwick in the autumn, carrying seven stone seven, but beating nothing of any great account, and she was absolutely unsuccessful as a three-year-old. At four years she managed to dead heat at Flemington with Dreamland, who, however, beat her in the run off, at a mile and a half. But for this faint silver lining to her cloud, everything was still in darkness. But I knew that she could beat Key, one of the greyhounds of the turf, at anything beyond half a mile, and that she could stay. Therefore, Hope was not yet altogether dead.
Ere the next season had dawned, however, La Carabine had passed into the hands of Mr. W. R. Wilson, of St. Albans, whose manager, Mr. Leslie McDonald, was certainly second to none as a trainer and stud master, if, indeed, he was not facile princeps of all his contemporaries, or of all those who had gone before him. And it may be that he will retain his invincibility in his own line for all time. The only man whom I can ever think of as being his “marrow” is Mr. J. E. Brewer. Under Mr. McDonald’s fostering care the little mare won the Stand Handicap at the Flemington October Meeting, and, after an interval of non-success, she was returned as winner of the Australian Cup, run over two miles and a quarter. She had now discovered her metier, for in Sydney, during April, the Cup fell to her at two miles, she carrying eight stone two. Two days after she beat Merriwee, weight-for-age, at three miles in the A.J.C. Plate, and travelling on to Adelaide, she smashed the opposition in the Alderman Cup, a mile and three-quarters, carrying the substantial impost of nine seven. Now a six-year-old, and in the ownership of Sir Rupert Clarke, after failing in the Melbourne Cup with nine seven, she gained a bracket in the V.R.C. Handicap, carrying the same weight as in the Cup, and in the autumn, the Essendon Stakes, and the Champion Stakes fell to her. In Sydney the Cumberland Stakes (2 miles), and the A.J.C. Plate (3 miles) were hers, and she completed her triumphs with a couple of victories in Adelaide, the last of which was the S.A.J.C. Handicap, carrying ten stone six. She ran but four times as a seven-year-old, and her one achievement was once more winning the Championship, on this occasion beating another reigning Queen, the peerless Wakeful. She was retired to the stud in the following spring. It is seldom indeed that one sees a great race mare vindicate herself in the paddock as well as upon the racecourse, and La Carabine has been no exception to the rule. It is true that her mates were chosen somewhat unfortunately, but it is doubtful whether a mare who was what may be termed “trained to rags” could ever have produced anything approaching herself in racing merit. Her quality may yet be kept alive by one of her daughters, for her pedigree is unsurpassable. And now we have arrived at the undoubted, undisputed Queen of the Turf. You can call her the Empress of mares, a worthy consort to occupy the throne alongside of Carbine himself. This is Wakeful.
A bay filly, she was dropped in 1896 at St. Albans, and her breeder was Mr. W. R. Wilson, whose racing career was then at its zenith. She was by Trenton, the sire of Quiver, from Insomnia, by Robinson Crusoe, her dam Nightmare, by Panic from Evening Star (imp.), the dam also of that fine stayer Commotion. The nomenclature, you will observe, is distinctly good, being suggestive of at least one of the parents all through, and yet each name is simple, and there is no straining after effect.
As a two-year-old, Wakeful, who was a great thriver, and who laid on condition very rapidly, was given a “rough up” across the common at St. Albans, with several others of the same age as herself. Revenue, a subsequent winner of the Melbourne Cup, was one of them, but the little mare ran right away from them all. It was noticeable, and was the cause of some mirth in the stable, that Wakeful’s rider on that occasion had never been guilty before of winning a race either in public or in private, and I believe he has never since equalled his performance of that morning. This is manifest proof of the tremendous superiority of the mare. Unfortunately, or fortunately, whichever way you like to take it, Wakeful went lame after the gallop, somewhere in her quarters, and it was deemed advisable to turn her out. A great difficulty, however presented itself to her owner, in that she was such a contented, good-constitutioned little thing that she would grow as fat as butter upon the “smell of an oiled rag.” And meanwhile Mr. W. R. Wilson passed out Westwards, and the stud being disposed of, the bay fell into the possession of Mr. Leslie McDonald. Mr. McDonald made no attempt to get her fit until she had passed her fourth birthday, and then she made her debut in the Doona Trial Stakes at Caulfield, in September. Quite unexpectedly, and with no money invested upon her, she ran second, and a week or two later, she was unplaced in the Paddock Handicap at Flemington. She was now most judiciously laid by until the Autumn, when, in a field of twenty-one sprinters, and first favourite, at fours to one, she finished four lengths ahead of anything in the Oakleigh Plate, five furlongs and a half. At Flemington, three weeks subsequent to this triumph, and carrying a ten-pound penalty, with only five to two betted against her, she won the Newmarket from a field of eighteen—six furlongs. From this time onwards her light burned with a steady luminosity to the very end. In all, she took part in thirty-five races, of which she actually won twenty-two, was second in nine, third in three, and was unplaced on but two occasions. She was not placed, as we have noticed, on her second appearance in public, in the Paddock Handicap, and she was fifth in the Melbourne Cup, which was won by her stable companion, Revenue, a good five-year-old gelding who was unsound, and had been resuscitated, and carried but seven stone ten. Wakeful, a five-year-old mare at the time, had eight stone ten. We need not tabulate the wins of this truly marvellous mare, but here is a list of her principal victories:—The Oakleigh Plate (5½ furs.), The Newmarket Handicap (6 furs.), The Doncaster Handicap (1 mile), The Caulfield Stakes (9 furs.), The Melbourne Stakes (1¼ miles), The St. George’s Stakes (1 mile), The Essendon Stakes (1½ miles), The All-Aged Stakes (1 mile), The Autumn Stakes, Randwick (1½ miles), The Sydney Cup—carrying 9 st. 7 lbs.—(2 miles), The All-Aged Stakes (1 mile), The A.J.C. Plate (3 miles), The Spring Stakes, Randwick (1½ miles), The Craven Plate (1¼ miles), The Randwick Plate (2 miles), The Caulfield Stakes (9 furs.), The Eclipse Stakes (1 mile 3 furs.), The Melbourne Stakes (1¼ miles), The C. B. Fisher Plate (1½ miles), The St. Helier Stakes (1 mile), The Essendon Stakes (1½ miles), The Champion (3 miles). The merit of any victory depends, of course, not upon the race won, but on the quality of the field in opposition, but you cannot find Wakeful wanting in this respect. She beat, and habitually beat, all the best performers of her day, and over their own distances, were they five furlongs and a half or three miles, Hymettus, La Carabine—who, however, did once put her down at three miles—Ibex, a mighty sprinter, Bonnie Chiel, Great Scot, Brakpan, Abundance, Air Motor, The Victory, Footbolt, Sojourner, Lord Cardigan, and all the crowd of handicap horses which she so often met at enormous disadvantages in weight. And some of her defeats were scarcely less full of merit than her wins. The Melbourne Cup is a good example of this. Here Lord Cardigan, a really high-class three-year-old, and the winner of the Sydney Cup with eight stone seven up in the following autumn, only just got home from Wakeful. The three-year-old was handicapped at six stone eight, the mare at ten stone. In the spring, the colt’s weight-for-age would have been seven six, and the mare’s weight-for-age and sex, nine one. She was actually giving him twenty-five pounds more than her weight-for-age demanded, and she was horribly ridden. All through her racing Wakeful suffered from this extra handicap. Dunn, who usually rode her, was an indifferent horseman, but Mr. McDonald preferred to trust to his unimpeachable honesty rather than risk a more brilliant rider of whose integrity he was not absolutely sure. Owners who have been in a like dilemma will sympathise with him. Wakeful has not been a bright success at the stud, but she cannot be set down as a failure altogether. She is the dam of Night Watch, a Melbourne Cup winner—under a light impost, it is true, but you must be good to win a Cup even with the minimum to carry. Another son, Baverstock, has sired a good colt in David, and was a winner himself. She also threw a very speedy horse in Blairgour, and this year, after missing for some three or four seasons, she is due to foal as I write. As her years now number twenty-six, it is unlikely that the produce will be a champion, but in a good season, and with the care which will be lavished upon her and her offspring, we can, at least hope.
Auraria, yet another Trenton mare, from Aura, by Richmond out of Instep, by Lord Clifden from Sandal; Carlita, by Charlemagne II. from Couronne, by Gipsy Grand—a New Zealand family—and Briseis, by Tim Whiffler out of Musidora, winner of Derby, Oaks and Cup, might almost claim Queenship. But none can come near Wakeful, and leaving her in undisturbed possession of her throne, we will pass on to other things.