Lord Cavendish may have retired from running the Holker family estate, but Cartmel Racecourse remains a joy and a calling.
Cartmel Racecourse has been described as “magical, almost ineffable”, which is to say, a phenomenon too wonderful to be expressed in words.
Lord Cavendish, who is chairman, owns the land in which it nestles and cares for and nurtures it, has another word – fun.
Despite stepping down as head of Holker Group – the hall, estate and its associated businesses – in favour of his daughter Lucy eight years ago, Hugh Cavendish, now 80, has kept hold of the reins at the racecourse.
Right now, the course is enjoying its first unrestricted season since the pandemic. There are nine race days a year starting on May 28 and finishing with the season finale on August 29.
For many local people, going racing at Cartmel is nothing short of a pilgrimage. Generations of Barrovians go misty eyed recalling the hallowed drive through bluebell carpeted woods for the Whit holiday races.
If racing is usually elite, esoteric and money-driven, this isn’t. Cartmel race days are a mix of carnival, picnic, spectacle and deep tradition. Amid the aroma of burgers, coffee, chips and candy floss, parents set up barbecues, chairs, entire base camps, with their dogs in tow and kids jumping with excitement to get on the funfair. There are gazebos. And sticky toffee puddings for the winners.
“And football on the course between races,” says Lord Cavendish with satisfaction. “It is a little bit dotty, but one must always think, are people comfortable here?”
It may be unconventional – and tiny – but Cartmel Racecourse is the envy of the racing industry. It attracts the highest average attendances after Aintree and Cheltenham, with crowds of 20,000 quite routine, a wonder given its location down almost impenetrable country lanes.
The leading jockeys and trainers of jump racing speak of it with reverence. Jonjo O’Neill said: “You’ve never been racing until you have been to Cartmel.” Dick Francis wrote: “We had the greatest fun up there and every Whitsun in the south I wished I could be racing up there instead.” Lord Hartington, senior steward of the Jockey Club, said: “Without doubt the most remarkable racecourse under our jurisdiction and certainly the most enjoyable to visit.”
“I tell you who absolutely loved this course,” says Lord Cavendish. “Ginger McCain.”
McCain was the legendary trainer who led the peerless Red Rum to three Grand National victories.
“I remember seeing him at Cheltenham describing Cartmel, with tears running down his face,” he says. “He used to come to my tent and bellow, fetch me some of what Lord Cavendish calls his champagne, disgusting stuff!
“He always brought horses and was such fun. His widow still comes, and his son Donald McCain sends horses every season. Dianne Sayer is a wonderful supporter and Nicky Richards, they all come.”
Lord Cavendish is the quiet maestro at the centre of the Cartmel Racecourse phenomenon. He first became involved as a director of the course in 1974, having inherited the Holker estate two years earlier on the death of his father. He bought out the racecourse management in 1998.
The course sits in a natural amphitheatre on land owned by Holker Hall. “The family link is that dating from the Reformation my ancestors acquired the estate from the Priory,” he says. “Holker has never been sold in recorded history.”
Earliest written accounts of racing here date from 1856 but there are reports of monks from Cartmel Priory racing mules in the 15th Century.
Racing was paused during the wars and might have stopped forever except for the efforts of some local former soldiers and especially Colonel Davy Pain. He oversaw a move from amateur to professional jockeys and attendances to rival Aintree.
Lord Cavendish says: “My generation have recollections of military people telling one to have one’s hair cut and sit up straight and so forth. I used to think there was something rather comic about them.
“My father died very young in his 50s, and I inherited when I was 31. I started taking part in local life and local political associations and I realised these military people had won the war. They actually saved all our institutions, including Cartmel, after the war.
“They may not have been brilliant in terms of people-friendly management, or money for that matter, but they kept things going. So, I look back with respect. If there was a bad year at Cartmel they would dip into their own pockets.”
This dedication and commitment, passing forward of the baton to new generations, occupies Lord Cavendish today.
He recalls their “strange and wonderful commitment to making this institution work,” saying “it’s a terribly important part of this. Those soldiers really did serve our community.”
These are the boots he stepped into. With his involvement Lord Cavendish brought business acumen, making the course more efficient.
He oversaw considerable investment, building a new grandstand and installing an irrigation system to manage the going.
“Originally there was a wooden contraption, leaning slightly,” he says. “And the stone walls were covered in mattresses to stop jockeys falling on them, there were no railings.”
Today the racecourse hosts agricultural shows, rallies, concerts, business meetings, weddings and parties.
But finance is only a part of the story.
Lord Cavendish says: “Of course jump racing isn’t about money. It’s the love of the thing.”
He is accountable to a board of directors and to trustees who own the assets of the estate. “On a good year we make a respectable profit. It’s got to wash its face or else the trustees would say it’s not sustainable.
“I have never, and no one has ever, taken a dividend out of it. Everything goes back in.”
So what is this magic that keeps him dedicated to Cartmel?
For one thing, it’s the “extraordinary nobility” of horses. Lord Cavendish says: “I loved the idea of racing and became an owner for quite a long time but curiously enough, and I don’t mind this being on the record, I have never really understood it.
“I understand the part it plays in the community and the attraction. I say this rather wistfully – a relationship between a person and a horse is almost beyond description, so old and mysterious, mystical almost.
“I rode as a child but never really got on with horses. I only once came close to understanding it. I had a wonderful mare. She was in stiff opposition at Haydock and the trainer was saying she wouldn’t like the weather, she was coming into sleet.
“I looked through the binoculars and from a mile out I could see she was under a great deal of pressure. She turned into the straight and I could almost see her say, I’m going to win this damned race. I have never quite grasped the courage and partnership that makes the pulse race. I have never understood it, but I have great respect for it.”
But Cartmel is also about the people. He knows many who visit and the significance it holds in local communities.
He believes the welcome is crucial and tells of how he attended the all-party bloodstock group in Parliament. “They used to say, Hughie, how come you have so many punters at Cartmel? I said one reason is I’m very civil to them.”
“I just love it that generations of Barrovians support us so well,” he says. “But then I love Barrow. It’s got heart hasn’t it.
“Jump racing is classless. It is increasingly rare to find a classless venue. And I look round the track as far as diversity is concerned and I’m pleased to see it’s hugely increasing.
“I notice some racecourses are getting grander and grander and you are getting marquees full of absurdly dressed people who never go racing, they drink and there’s big money and big commercial interests. And they want to stay separate. That’s what I want to avoid.”
On half-term race days his tent will be “teeming” with children, a point on which he took issue with Colonel Pain who thought that was not their place. “I said, I completely disagree, they are the racegoers of the future.”
Lord Cavendish personally greets as many people as he can. “Without fail, before racing starts, I go round the whole lot, hotdog stalls, people from Glasgow selling sheets, I have got to know them. I try to see every trader, every funfair operator, every trainer, every jockey,” he says, though he admits, “I’m 80 and sometimes wonder how much longer I can tramp round. I get quite tired.”
Jockeys and owners who fail to win a sticky toffee pudding might be quietly taken pity on and given one. “I have had people come and say to me I have tried and tried and tried to win for a sticky toffee pudding. It’s part of the currency,” he says.
As a local himself, “born and bred here, and my pulse races when I get back here,” Lord Cavendish says community is key. Most staff at the racecourse are locals.
“People don’t appreciate how much rural deprivation there is,” he says. “There is a food bank in Cartmel and we try to help it. We try to help the local school.”
Every year the racecourse invites local charities to collect on race days, a local hospice making £5,000 recently.
Aside from the investment, the hard work, the welcome – Lord Cavendish thinks there is something else special about Cartmel Racecourse. “I have quite often stood here and wondered what I need to do not to spoil it.
“The Cartmel valley has its own attraction. You could say it’s the physical beauty, but it’s more than that. There is a feeling from the place. People come on here and gasp.”
He admits: “I’m a romantic. I would say about the modern age, there’s a spiritual pulse which is rather weak at the moment. Whether it’s the history, the background of the monks here, the ancestral voices, there’s a spirit or spirituality. A feeling there are powers and forces outside ourselves, which are benign.”
And he adds: “The other thing I think is terribly important is that it’s fun. There has to be camaraderie and enjoyment.”
He rejects the word proud, when considering his success. “I think pride is wrong. I’m still mystified by the success of this. Hence, I mustn’t spoil it,” he says.
The Queen, although a visitor at Holker Hall, has not attended a race day at Cartmel. He tells the tale with a twinkle in his eye: “The Queen has talked about it. I have shown her the racecourse, but she has never been on a race day.
“We were coming down that road over there and I said, Look, ma’am, there’s my racecourse. And she laughed, rather disrespectfully I thought, and said, “That’s a racecourse?”.”
He smiles at the memory of being teased by the monarch. “I would have loved her to come. I think she would love it.”
He has only missed two days at Cartmel in 48 years. “I am still absolutely excited, before every race day,” he says with a grin.
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