Читать книгу A Mirror of the Turf - James Glass Bertram - Страница 7

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Racing of some kind, good or bad as may happen, is carried on, not only at Newmarket, but at many other places all the year round. When flat-racing ceases, steeple-chasing follows, and proceeds till what is called "the legitimate season" begins; it occupies the period from about the end of March till the close of November. Hardened turfites, that is men who make racing and betting the business of their lives, long, it is said, in the early part of the year to hear the saddling-bell sound at Lincoln where the first meeting is held; and from that much-talked-of seat of sport they journey to Liverpool, and thence to Northampton and other seats of horse-racing, pursuing their business most industriously, shouting the state of the odds with stentorian lungs and booking no end of bets, for wherever half-a-dozen bookmakers assemble, there will also be found an army of bettors eager to take "the odds," some of them with "systems" by which they hope to make their fortunes; others, too, are there, who trust to luck, or the bringing off of an occasional good thing by means of a tip, which they may receive from some acquaintance or friend, or they put faith, perhaps, in the two horse or other wires of some brazen charlatan of the tipster tribe, of whom for the time they become victims.

The Lincolnshire Handicap is the principal betting race of the springtime; many horses are usually selected by bettors to win that event, and one or two of the number will be heavily backed by men, who, in the end, may see all their cherished mind's eye visions vanish into thin air, as some quite unthought of outsider romps home an easy winner. The meeting held at Lincoln occupies three days, and before it concludes, some of the green hands, who have come on the racing scene as débutants, determined to give the ring a fright by backing many winners, will have made the old, old discovery over again that "all is not gold that glitters." New-made owners of horses, too, will have found out before the expiry of the three days, that men quite as clever as themselves are ready to fight every inch of the ground. "Keep thy head cool, lad," said, on one occasion, an old turfite to an irate young owner, who felt annoyed, or rather aggrieved, at his horse being placed second in a race which he fancied it had won, "you will get other chances for your horse; the season is but young, hide your feelings, you won't do much good at racing if you wear your heart on your sleeve."

To-day the railways convey the masses in large numbers to the different seats of sport. Thousands are now seen at Lincoln for the hundreds of the olden time; but in olden times the classes were more in evidence: county people came in their own carriages, often from considerable distances, to be present at their local meetings, "ladies in gay attire, and gentlemen in brave apparel;" but county ladies are somewhat chary at the present time of braving the rough-and-ready element which has become incidental to modern racing, and the very pronounced rowdyism by which it is accompanied.

The spectators of the various races who assemble on the course near Liverpool represent all classes, the middle class element being particularly strong. The favourite race at Aintree at the spring meeting is the Grand National Steeple-chase. On the day set apart for the decision of that event, the trains and other conveyances from the great port take tens of thousands to the scene, all anxious, if not to witness the exciting event, to gamble upon it, for it is not the sport that attracts the multitude, it is "the money." Men go upon racecourses for whom the horses and the work they are set to do have no charms; what they interest themselves about is the state of the odds. "Oh," said a so-called Liverpool "sportsman," "I don't care a copper about seeing the race. I never look at the performance. The horses go up in the air and come down in the ditches too often for my taste; one trembles for one's money as one sees the exhibition." There are doubtless many who hold similar opinions; indeed, it would be curious to know what proportion of the thousands who attend such a meeting as that held at Liverpool are there only for the sake of the sport, not probably ten per cent. of the number!

By the time Northampton is reached, the racing fraternity has been well shaken down, and the new hands in betting and bookmaking have got pretty well mixed up with the old. Acquaintances and "pals" have met once again, and Bill and Tom, and Dick and Harry, have shaken hands, compared notes, and exchanged small talk. All meet on the hail-fellow-well-met system. There is no formality. Nomenclature among the majority of racing-men seldom gets further than the Christian name, and even that must be abridged. The wealthiest bookmaker, no matter that he is able to keep a carriage for "the missus," and half-a-dozen gardeners to grow his grapes, and as many grooms to attend to the horses of his children, is only Ned, or Ted, or Jack, or Jim, to his fellows. In these matters the turf is a sad leveller. I have myself heard Mr. Dawson hailed as "Mat, old man," by a turf loafer whose whole wardrobe would scarcely fetch two half-crowns, and, "Well, Johnny," has been addressed to Mr. Osborne by a half-drunken cabman who fancied he was patronising that well-known horseman by addressing him so familiarly. The late Mr. Merry of St. James's Street, who was long connected with the turf, I remember knocked down a very cheeky turf vagabond, who had the impudence to address him as "Sam" in the presence of some members of his family.

It is not my cue to follow the racing crowd on tour, or to fill many of the following pages with an account of what takes place at every place of meeting. The seats of horse-racing are too numerous to admit of their being so dealt with; all I desire to do at present, is simply to give a brief notice of such of the classic horse-racing resorts as are endowed with a history, such as Chester, York, Doncaster, Ascot, Goodwood, and Epsom. The meetings which take place at Sandown and Kempton Parks I leave to be dealt with by other historians.