Classic day at York races

Up to 60,000 racegoers from around the country are expected at Knavesmire each day during the 2005 festival. The city will never have experienced anything like it.

Except that it did, nearly 60 years ago.

In September 1945 York Racecourse hosted the St Leger. Wartime conditions had forced the classic race to move from its home at Doncaster Racecourse. Coming only a couple of weeks after Victory In Japan Day it was the first meeting in peace time and quite a celebration.

Fears have been raised about York's ability to handle Ascot in 2005. In 1945, the city coped beautifully with the St Leger. There were far fewer cars then, of course.

But there were other problems 59 years ago: the sheer numbers - 200,000 for the St Leger day alone - and major shortages of food, beer and fuel.

Planning was the key to the event's success. York police worked for many weeks on a scheme to keep the city moving. They marshalled German prisoners of war to clear a vast area of Knavesmire for a car park.

Workmen had to fill in a tunnel under the stand in the ten shilling ring by which previous German inmates had hoped to escape earlier in the war. They were foiled by an underground concrete wall.

The city's Chief Constable HH Herman also announced that no racegoers would be allowed to leave their cars in nearby streets. School hours were changed in the afternoon to avoid extra traffic.

Days before the big event, it was announced that the dual carriageway between York and Tadcaster was to be reopened to cars for the three-day meeting. For a long period of the war the northbound carriageway had been closed to traffic and used to park Army vehicles.

Meanwhile, businesses were hoping to cash in on St Leger fever. York Chamber of Trade unanimously voted to move VJ-3 Day from September 5, the day of the big race, to September 24 and close all the shops that day instead.

One member pointed out that with 200,000 people expected on St Leger Day it would be rather foolish to shut up shop. The decision was welcomed by the Evening Press: "The signs are that on St Leger Day York will house the greatest crowd in its colourful history. Fantastic prices have, in many cases, been asked - and paid - for rooms for the period of the fixture, and the demands made on the city's provisioning facilities will be a record one...

"Cafs, restaurants and grocery establishments in the city will be severely taxed. The three days of racing will probably see York 'eaten out of house and home', but who is not looking forward to the day of the classic with a thrill of expectancy?"

Anyone with accommodation to hire was certainly thrilled. All the hotels were booked up. Private rooms in York were being offered for £10 a night. Landlords as far away as Malton were asking 30 guineas per person for four days.

But what to wear? Clothing was rationed. "Whether feminine fashions will be a feature of the York Race Week is a moot point," reported the Evening Press on September 1, 1945.

"Coupon considerations may play a part in preventing women from buying clothes which are impracticable for ordinary occasions.

"On the other hand, there may be a display of pre-war smart clothing, saved up for just such a special occasion as Race Week."

Fears that the crowds might go hungry were exacerbated by the Ministry of Food's decision not to allocate extra food for York shops. Visitors were advised to bring their own food.

City caterers were unhappy that they were not granted facilities to serve grub to the masses. One had already ordered marquees, coppers for boiling water, 600 cups and saucers, and food including 1,100 pies - only to find he was refused a licence by the York Food Office.

Yet more worrying was the prospect of York being drunk dry by thirsty punters. Local brewers were increasing production but would it be enough?

"In obedience to the ruling of the licensing justices, licensees are remaining open, but outside their doors boards often appear with the notice 'No beer tonight'," reported the Evening Press a few days before the meeting.

"With hundreds more visitors in York next week, and no prospect of extra supplies, the outlook is a dry one indeed."

More disappointing news was confirmed on the eve of the meeting. The Ministry of Fuel and Power ruled against York's plans to light up various parts of the city on the race nights "owing to the present serious fuel situation".

Buildings which had been illuminated by gas and electricity on the two VJ Days were "exceptional" concessions, the ministry stated.

Despite these setbacks, the city was in party mood and could not wait for the opening day. It dawned to overcast skies, but later the clouds gave way to brilliant sunshine.

People started trekking to the course at 6am. Vast crowds arrived at York station on special trains. An "encampment of caravans and tents behind the Three Shillings Ring introduced an Epsom Downs' flavour to the auspicious revival of racing at York," the Evening Press correspondent noted.

Most people had brought their own picnic, and the on-course caterers were able to supply all who required food. According to the paper, a particularly self-sufficient fellow lit a fire in a back street, "placed a tin of water on it, and gently slid a skinned rabbit into it.

"While this was cooking he prepared some bacon, and when the rabbit was tender enough he changed tins, ate the rabbit, finished cooking the bacon and ate that." After a few sandwiches, he set off to Knavesmire.

Fears about it being a "dry" party also proved unfounded "there being plenty of beer and plenty of bar-tenders to serve it".

Before the St Leger Day itself, famous Evening Press columnist Mr Nobody offered a few tips for those "who believe in portents.

"With the fall of Japan and the eclipse of the Land of the Rising Sun, idealists among racegoers (if there are any!) may profess to see an omen in the name of Rising Light as signifying better times ahead," he wrote.

"Sentimentalists so influenced - but take it from me they will not be among the ranks of the hard-boiled Turfites - might thus be expected to plump for the King's horse.

"And not a bad choice either, by my way of thinking."

In the event, Mr Nobody was not a winner. The record-breaking 200,000 crowd cheered Chamossaire to victory, the first triumph for its millionaire owner Squadron Leader Stanhope Joel.

It was two lengths ahead of the King's horse, Rising Light.

The finish was the highlight of a terrific day for York. "An hour before racing the stands were already crammed with the stupendous crowds who made the journey from all parts of the country to see the first peace-time classic," the Evening Press reported.

"Like a city besieged, York, which was surrounded overnight by encampments of bookmakers, holidaymakers, gipsies and itinerant vendors, woke in the early hours of the morning and there began a seemingly endless flow of crowds towards the racechourse.

"Among the early arrivals were charabanc loads of 'Geordies' and pitmen from the Durham area...

"York's St Leger Day of 1945 was the greatest racing pageant since the Roman Emperor Severus indulged in the sport within the ancient city in the second century AD."

The correspondent spotted many famous faces among the throng - "bearers of great names, men of great deeds in peace and war".

About 250 police officers from within and outside the city ensured the roads kept traffic moving despite an extra 15,000 vehicles during the three days. The event turned out to be a wonderful celebration of racing - and peace.

The Evening Press leader writer was impressed.

"The thousands who travelled to York to see the St Leger this afternoon comprised probably the greatest number of people ever to watch this classic race, for many made the trip as their VJ holiday.

"Carefully-thought-out plans worked admirably, and the adequate arrangements for directing the traffic ensured a pleasurable afternoon for everyone, as well as proving that York is capable of dealing with future gatherings of this nature."

Updated: 09:19 Monday, February 09, 2004