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WORLD NOTED NEWMARKET • Englands Tnrf Headquarters Has Much to Interest Stranger. ♦ Some MM Acres la tke »w market Heath Proper— Practically All Used for Training aid Racing. SPECIAL CORRESPONDENCE. NEWMARKET, England. March IK.— Turf Headquarters, as Newmarket is known the world over, has much to interest the stranger within her gates, and a visit to the historic heath revives memories of those who lived and had their being in this quaint old town, whose High Street has echoed to the tread of horses of blood for almost three hundred years. It is a far cry from the days of Charles II. and Nell Gwynn. who won a dukedom for her son by threatening to throw him into the street from a casement window, unless her sovereign, who was passing with his retinue, recognized the infant as his offspring. Knee breeches and lace ruffles have departed from Newmarket, but the trim Englishmen who frequent headquarters today are as sincere in their devotion to the race horse as those of any other period, and are doing their part in maintaining the best traditions of the turf. Race horses pass through High Street today on their way to and from the great glassy plain, as they have done since the reign of James, to take .their exercising gallops over turf the resiliency of which, in all but periods of extreme drought, renders it ideal for training purposes. There are some 6,000 acres in Newmarket Heath proper, and every foot of it. save the stretches reserved for actual racing, is available for exercise gallops. By a wise provision only designated strips, marked by movable boundaries, are used, and changes are made every few days in order not to destroy what it has taken centuries to create. The used areas are rolled and cared for as soon as they are abandoned. In a short time they are once more virgin turf. When the "going" is too hard on the heath, there is a tan gallop on which a world of care is lavished, but many trainers prefer the gallops on the lime kilns, on the other side of the town, in dry weather, where the character of the sub-soil insures a safe surface at all times. The English trainer tests the quality of the ground by thrusting his walking stick into it. If it penetrates to the deptli of several inches without much pressure, its condition is rated as satisfactory. There are few cases on record when this has not been possible at the lime kilns, which have an area sufficient to give h rses any sort of a trial. The quality of the turf at Newmarket can only be appreciated by riding and walking over it. It is a perfei-t carpet of grass, so interwoven that one sinks to the ankle in walking, while the sensation of galloping over its springy surface is exhilarating to the last degree. What a story of care its condition attests. It is almost constantly under treament. and what, with cutting and rolling its undulating bosom, is the acme of perfection for the use to which it is put. There are several stories about the heath and its care, but one wil suffice. Every visitor to the morning gallops knows "Old Harry," who is a personage at Newmarket. It is his duty to lay out the various gallops and. spade in hand, he looms up through the mists of a wintry morning, wraithlike, turning a pice of turf here and there in the wake of a galloping band that follow each other in Indian file across the sward. On one occasion it is related that "Old Harry" was approached by an American who said he was anxious to develop such turf on his estate in the United States. He wanted to know all about the methods responsible for the results at Newmarket ; whereupon Harry .Continued on M-ventb ;mge. WORLD NOTED NEWMARKET Continued from second page! re-moved his pipe and, leaning on his spade, remarked : "Well, sir, yon plows your land, and you bows our seed ; then you cuts it and you rolls it, and you rolls it and cuts it. and after about three hundred years it gets like this.- The Jockey Club owns the heatli. and the privilege of training over it dej ends upon the consent of that august body. It will be remembered that it was withheld from the late Hi chard Croker. one-time leader of Tammany Hall, who invaded England in company with Michael F. Dwyer in the late 90s. Mr. Croker was fond of telling the story of his satisfaction a few years later when he won the Derby with Orby, a son of the British sire Orme and the American mare Khoda B., by Hanover, which was bred and trained for the event at Glencairn, the picturesque Croker estate near Dublin. Mr. Croker always enjoyed a hearty laugh, as he related the story of his triumph, with its climax in the answer he returned to a typical British sportsman, who asked, as the colt was being led into the enclosure by his owner : "I say. Mr. Croker, where was he trained?" "In my back yard in Ireland." was the ex-Tammany chieftains reply. And the answer was true enough, for Orbys preparation was over an undulating field of some seventy acres commanding a view of the sea in the rear of the stone mansion, not many miles from Dublin. It is not surprising that the privilege of training over Newmarket Heath should be eagerly sought after, and once obtained, held in high esteem. That it is so prized is evidenced by the substantiality of the various racing establishments in and about Newmarket proper. The homes of the trainers are of brick and are surrounded by neat gardens as a rule. The stables, with their stone-pa ved courtyards and high-walled confines, are also of brick, with the boxes more ample in their proportions than those furnished American horses. Quarters for men and boys are near at hand, and the trainer has his help under observation at all times. They are the last word in that trim orderliness that is the passion of the British, and one realizes that here the horse of blood is recognized at its true value. The lover of the thoroughbred can stand In High Street — nearly every English town has its High Street, as American urban centers boast of a Main Street — and see horses of quality. On a recent morning. Double Chance and Jack Horner, winners of the Grand National in 1925 and 19JH. respectively, were out at the same time, the former used as a hack by Charles Archer, and the latter a prime favorite with many good judges for this years renewal of the Aintree classic. Americans have a particular interest in Jack Horner, as he is owned by Charles Schwartz of New York, whose recent purchase of land from The Jockey Club on the skirts of the heath would indicate a prolonged stay in England, it being his purpose to erect a house and stabling on the territory. Every morning, with the exception of Sunday, when most of the horses have a day of rest, this parade of horseflesh through the thoroughfares in and adjacent to Newmarket prevails. Occasionally a stallion is encountered at exercise. Some of those seen on a January morning were the Derby winner Imberg. the 2.000 Guineas hero Ellangowan. the Ascot Gold Cup winner Santorb and Pharos, which was second to Papvrus in the Derby. Race horses fill the streets, there being thirty and forty in a set. They parade in Indian file, save when the exuberance of health prompts one or more to indulge in play. Often hooded, and their loins protected by the small blanket made familiar to New Yorkers by Papyrus, which wore one every morning, save when he got his final sr«-rk for the match with Zev at Belmont Park. Head lads— some of them 70 or more — like Hollow ay. who has been with Basil Jarvis, and his family for upwards of sixty years, keep the horses in line and far enough apart to avoid accidents. The trainer, as a rule, follows on a stout hack or hunter, a long thonged whip in hand ready to crack vith authority when the occasion demands. Many of the lads riding exercise at Newmarket are old men. Some are 50, others €0 and older, and all arc as keen on their job, and as proud of their ability, as any youngster. They are dressed alike, these lads, whether 15 or 50, in breeches and leggings, and in wet weather — horses get their work rain or shine in this country — they have waterproof coats that cover the knees. Everywhere discipline is the order of the day. In and about English racing stables and on the training ground there is that sense of authority that makes for a regulated efficiency. It is the result of the application of methods that have generations of custom and tradition at their back. The life of a trainer at Newmarket during the off-season is most pleasant. After a cup a tea and a few thin slices of bread and butter in the early morning, the first set of horses are taken to the heath. Breakfast is had about 10 or 10 :30, and the interim between that and luncheon is devoted to correspondence or business affairs. After luncheon, there is the cozy club on High Street in the neighborhood of Jockey Club headquarters, where the best sort of fellowship prevails. The membership includes the leaders in the art of preparing horses for their races, and the jockeys under eon-tract to the various establishments. One is struck with the spirit of friendliness in what seems to be a big family. The benefits to the turf of having such a meeting place are apparent There is often a game of cards for a minor stake, and occasionally there is a game of billiards. The inevitable cup of tea is served at 5 oclock, and frequently there is a cocktail before dinner, with reminiscences of the turf, and the radio to round out the evening. Some of the Newmarket trainers hunt twice a week with the packs that meet in the vicinity, while others take a "shoot." Basil Jarvis and his brother Jack, who has the horses of Lord Roseberry, are among the best wing-shots in their part of England. With men of wealth and the proper sporting spirit as patrons, the lot of a trainer of thoroughbreds in any country should be congenial. At Newmarket it should be Utopian for those who love their profession and give it the attention it deserves.
