f 

 MODERN ENCLOSED COURSES 205 



the "Albion" the better class of trainers, jockeys, and 

 professional racing men are regular customers, and in 

 addition the "Grand," the "Victoria," the "Palatine," and 

 a host of others accommodate their quota. 



From the hotels to the course a drive of about twenty 

 minutes must be taken by cab, but the tariff is not high, 

 and there are none of the excessive charges which do so 

 much to harm many of the country meetings. The drive 

 through squalid and dirty streets is not invigorating, but 

 the course, considering its position, is pleasant enough, and 

 the savoury slums of Salford are quickly forgotten when one 

 passes through the gate into the flower-bedizened gravel 

 paddock, with its trim footpaths and sparkling fountains. 

 In the matter of floral display the New Barns executive 

 cannot rival such places as Kempton or Lingfield, but they 

 do their best to make an otherwise ugly spot pretty, and 

 if their flowers do not bloom as they do in the South, it 

 is the fault of the climate rather than of the Manchester 

 gardeners. The course is the worst thing about New Barns. 

 Good management is there and plenty of money behind 

 it, and good management and good money mean good 

 sport, but in spite of all these advantages the course is 

 only a poor one. The straight course is only long enough 

 to allow of five-furlong races being run on it, but the round 

 course of a mile and a half is good enough, as far as physical 

 conformation goes, and it is really only the going which has 

 to be found fault with. At times this going is very bad, 

 owing to the fact that the course was laid on marshy land, 

 and that there is little real subsoil. The whole ground is 

 artificial, and though everything possible has been done in 

 the way of deep drainage, it sometimes happens in wet 

 weather that the going becomes so rotten as to be absolutely 

 dangerous. Thus, when La Fleche won the Lancashire 

 Plate in 1892, St. Angelo was a victim of the treacherous 

 ground in one of the most curious accidents that ever were 

 seen on a racecourse. 



The horses were just inside the distance-post, and St. Angelo 

 was going very strongly close to the rails. Webb, who had 

 the mount, had just made up his mind that he would be first 



