BAILY'S MONTHLY MAGAZINE

OF

SPORTS AND PASTIMES.

LORD BRIDPORT.

LORD BRIDPORT is a Nobleman not particularly well known in the Sporting World, but as General Hood he has been so long associated with the Mastership of the late Prince Consort's harriers as not inappropriately to come within the compass of our Illustrations.

Lord Bridport is the son of the late Lord of that name, and is descended from the well-known Admiral Lord Hood whose services to his country are even yet recollected in this age, when steam has almost superseded seamanship in the management of the wooden walls of Old England. He was born in December, 1814, and after having completed his education at Eton entered the Foot Guards, in which he remained until he had attained the rank of Major-General. Early in life Lord Bridport had the good fortune to attract the attention of the late Prince Consort, with whom he was a special favourite, and who appointed him Master of his pack of harriers, and on the lamented death of that Prince he was continued in his office by the Prince of Wales. The proof of royal confidence reposed in him was still further increased by Her Majesty entrusting him with the management of the royal farms, which he has held since 1852, which is a convincing proof that our gracious Sovereign is satisfied with his watchful superintendence of the royal domains. Of Lord Bridport personally we may remark that Prince Albert's regard for him is a quite sufficient guarantee for the possession of every good quality of head and heart, and that from 1852, the period from which he has had the management of the royal harriers consigned to him, up to the present time, his conduct in the Field has been such as to earn for him the cordial respect of the Windsor farmers, who recently sbscribed for his portrait to be painted by an eminent artist, and presented to Lady Bridport.

NEWMARKET-OUT OF SEASON.

(Concluded from Baily's Magazine' of January, 1869.) TRAINING towns, all such at least as have been visited by the writer of these lines, have one striking resemblance, and that is supplied by the tradespeople of the place. There never yet was training town that did not contain at least one sporting barber, and many tailors and bakers learned in turf matters. Men engaged in these particular occupations appear to take more kindly to horse-racing than their fellow-labourers in other crafts; and if there happens to be a naturalist's or bird-stuffer's shop in the place, ten to one that there the sporting youth will congregate, smoke pipes, make small bets, and talk Calendar, Handicap and Stud book (especially in winter time), until the proprietor's patience and fire are alike exhausted. In such snug little rooms the morning gallops of the cracks of the training ground will be commented on, their chances for forthcoming events passed in review, discussed and rediscussed with never-tiring gusto. The conversation never flags. The sight of a passing trainer, the occasional entrance of a jockey, are sufficient provocatives to detain the loungers for an extra half-hour at any time; and should some London owner of horses trained in the town be seen wending his way from the station toward the stables where his youngsters are located, there will be quite a rush of idlers to the window or hatch-door to gaze curiously after the distinguished visitor, and then speculation will become rife as to the object of his coming, and as to what is about to be put through the mill.' As men who have spent the morning on heath or moor drop in towards midday, the scraps of information they from time to time let drop relative to the doings they have witnessed are greedily swallowed by those who have lazily remained within doors; and so amidst a heavy cloud of smoke from many blackened pipes the day wears on, enlivened, it may be, by sundry quarts of beer occasionally ordered in from the nearest public, until, as the season may dictate, winter darkness sets in, or summer twilight brings the telegraph boy hurrying from the station with the tissue' containing that day's winners.

In no town sacred to racehorses have we been more surprised at the little apparent interest taken by the inhabitants in the success of the native horses' than at Newmarket. At any Yorkshire training quarter, where possibly not an eighth of the number of horses are to be found that Newmarket boasts of, seven-tenths of the folks you might meet would to a certainty be more or less interested in turf matters, and more or less acquainted with the make, shape, general appearance, and latest bulletins respecting any great notability or notabilities trained there. We doubt much whether one quarter of the Newmarket folks, not professionally interested in horseracing, know Rupert from Ryshworth. We have been struck

even at race times at the little heed taken by folks of the class above alluded to of the stirring doings on the heath, and have heard with wonder that many of them, although they have resided for years in this great centre of horse-racing and horse-training, rarely, if ever, see an event' decided, and only at very long intervals walk out on the heath at all. Another noticeable peculiarity-this amongst such portion of the inhabitants as do interest themselves in the contests of the green sward-is the calmness with which the news of any great victory achieved by a Newmarket horse is received. We had 'ceased to think about it at all in an hour,' said to us a native,' in alluding to a grand and very celebrated coup brought off a few years ago by a horse on whose chance the town had been wonderfully There was a little exaggeration in the statement, no doubt, but not so much as many will believe. Newmarket racing men are naturally and justly proud of their unrivalled exercising ground; and they have been so successful of late years, the present one included, that some of them are perhaps rather too much inclined to underrate the worth of training grounds elsewhere, and of the horses 'educated' on them. A lurking jealousy has always existed between Newmarket and Yorkshire, and favourites sent from Middleham, Malton, or Richmond are inspected by the cognoscenti with eyes keenly anxious to discover a fault. The comments of the touts upon Pretender when he arrived at head-quarters last month to run. for the Two Thousand were amusing for the almost spiteful eagerness shown to pick the brown colt to pieces. We readily admit, however, that there are good reasons for the Newmarket men holding their own galloping grounds in such high esteem. All the year round nearly these are in good order, and when trainers elsewhere are fretting on account of hard ground, or grumbling because of heavy going, the Newmarket horses have almost invariably sound elastic turf on which to receive their educations—a fact that fully accounts for the vast number of races won by them between March and November.

As previously remarked, Newmarket out of season' is certainly one of the most dead-alive places on the face of the earth; and no one dropped suddenly into the centre of the main street about midday in January could by means of anything short of supernatural instinct suspect that his feet trod the stones of the most famous training town in the world. Even when the day's work is done there appear to be few or any of those incitements for relaxation which most small country towns can boast. It might well have been imagined that in a place so largely tenanted by the racing community, a theatre would have commanded a fair amount of patronage, turf men, as a rule, being devoted admirers of the Thespian art. Such, however, does not appear to be the case; and when the poor players' do now and then venture upon a campaign at 'head'quarters,' the encouragement they meet with is, we fear, by no means commensurate with their merits. Concerts and balls appear to be but few and far between, although at one time the followers of

Terpsichore at Newmarket had, we believe, constant opportunities of indulging, and we had almost written that unsociability was a prevailing characteristic of the place. However much this may be the case amongst the inhabitants themselves, it would be highly unfair to hint that this 'exclusiveness' was carried out so far as strangers to the town are concerned. Nowhere is hospitality more freely and cheerfully accorded to the visitor than amongst the racing portion of the community; and those acquainted with Yorkshire liberality in such particulars will well understand how high is the compliment when we remark that in this respect Newmarket is quite on a par with the county of the countless acres.

The horse-racing enthusiast can find ample enjoyment, no matter what the season may be, in wandering out on to the heath, taking care, of course, to give a wide berth to all trainers whose fiery dispositions may lead them to use such strong measures to warn fancied interlopers as have recently given rise to a cause célèbre, for nowhere else will he meet with such numerous and well-ordered strings of horses, and nowhere else, if he be content to confine himself within reasonable limits, will he have such opportunities accorded him of inspecting them to advantage. Even should he wander unwittingly on to the heath during the hours held sacred, and, as was once the writer's case, come unexpectedly upon the scene of a rough up' of no ordinary importance, he will, provided that he is known to be respectable and reticent, probably be pardoned for the gross breach of etiquette committed. The outside public are apt to regard all 'trials as being of a terribly mysterious and hidden nature, and they believe that no trainer ever attempts anything of the kind without previously ascertaining by most rigid examination that there are no hidden witnesses of the awful test about to be applied. The overcoloured pictures drawn occasionally of the wiles and stratagems employed by the noble army of touts to procure information, and of the various counter-mines laid by trainers to defeat such intent, have led to exaggerated notions of what is actually done in such cases. Now-a-days a trainer, saving in some few favoured localities, knows that it is all but impossible that a trial, let it take place at what time it may, should escape the observation of some of the countless watchers,' amateur or otherwise. He lays his plans accordingly, and by means of weights adjusted, of course, beyond the knowledge of the lookers-on, and by making the finish of the real trial take place at quite a different spot to that at which his horses are finally pulled up, he can put the fraternity off the scent as completely as if they had never witnessed the gallop at all. A very recent instance of the kind is in the writer's mind at the time he pens these lines, and he may safely aver that every one of the unwelcome spectators of a spin that was really of great importance went away with an utterly erroneous notion as to the real merits of the animals that finished first, second, and third in the cleverly-arranged struggle.

Apart from the delights the heath affords there is little to interest the visitor. People have an evil habit of staring at any stranger

who may endeavour to amuse himself by strolling backwards and forwards between the Severals and the top of the town, and the loungers at the Wellington' corner (never are they lacking) drop remarks respecting the personal appearance and presumed occupation of the wanderer almost as much calculated to give pain as the halfbrick which is said to be the usual greeting bestowed on the traveller whose ill fortune takes him into some of the villages of the pottery districts. The shops are not particularly attractive to the flaneur to whom Regent and Bond Streets are only too familiar; although we must own to having derived some minutes' gratification from a diligent inspection of the faces and jackets of our friends the jockeys, as occasionally displayed on a sheet of photographic portraits in the window of the obliging Mr. Wright. Moments of happiness are to be enjoyed every now and then also by studying the contents of a window where the bright silken toggery and jaunty caps are displayed, destined some day or other to flaunt before a roaring and excited crowd. A third shop available to the gazer is that in which enough wedding-rings are displayed to marry all the pretty young ladies in Newmarket for years to come; and here, too, if our memory serves us, is displayed a bronze racehorse and jockey of such astounding ugliness and want of symmetry that the person who has courage enough to buy it and remove it from the public gaze will confer a special obligation upon one not unfrequent visitor to head-quarters, for whom the contemplation of it has a strange and horrible fascination.

Newmarket, oddly enough, is not rich in ghost stories. Probably its inhabitants are of too practical a turn of mind to put faith in the shadows from phantom land. It is true that a story obtains to the effect that jockey-lads object, from some unknown reason, to pass Queensberry House after nightfall, but as to the cause of their objection to do so history is silent. The one well-authenticated ghost legend relating to Newmarket has quite a German smack about it, and reminds one of the pleasant story of the Elves and the Tailor, related, if we mistake not, by Jacob Grimm, that best of friends to romantic youth, the immortal narrator of 'Hans ' in Luck' and 'Rumpelstilzchen.' Thus runs the tale of dread. Some years ago a particular room in a particular house situated not far from the top of the town was more than suspected of being the resort of 'uncanny' beings, and that such was really the case was at last proved in the most conclusive and convincing manner. It so happened that a large quantity of linen, newly dried, was one night deposited in this mysterious apartment, the door securely locked, and the key removed. Midnight arrived, and as yet no ghost or goblin was seen to enter or emerge from the chamber. Morning dawned, and nothing had occurred to suggest to the inmates the appalling transaction that had taken place during the hours of darkness. The key was turned, the room was entered, and with a cry of horror (we presume) the mistress of the house sank senseless to the floor. For behold, though no mortal foot had crossed the threshold since