The Prince of Jockeys

by Pellom McDaniels III

  For the gentlemen of the turf, especially those with a genteel philosophy of breeding and running horses and a desire to export their stock to enthusiastic customers in the East and across the Atlantic in England and France, Louisville became a mecca for well-bred horses and a new commercial center. Breeders such as Woodford County's Daniel Swigert, Franklin County's J. W. Hunt-Reynolds, and Fayette County's H. P. McGrath would use the new venue to showcase the quality of the horseflesh available on their farms, as well as the quality of the trainers, grooms, and jockeys they employed. As boosters and beneficiaries of Kentucky's most important industry, these men joined with others of considerable influence, power, and wealth to pool their resources and develop a new model for horse racing that would benefit Kentucky's identity as the Thoroughbred capital of the United States, if not the world.

  That May, however, the focus was on the new course located in the Louisville suburbs, still surrounded by farms and the rural landscape from which it had been carved. The design of the Louisville Jockey Club and Driving Park was based on the tracks and courses in Europe. Its principal founder and chief organizer, Meriwether Lewis Clark, was no doubt taken aback by the throngs of people who came to usher in a new era in Kentucky horse racing.

  In 1872, three years prior to the opening of the Louisville track, a group of gentlemen of the turf, businessmen, and politicians made it known that they wanted to expand Kentucky's horse markets into the East, West, and South. But to do so, and to compete with Lexington, racing would have to return to the city of Louisville on a grand scale. Clark, his influential uncles John and Henry Churchill, and a number of wealthy breeders were convinced that Louisville could become the epicenter of Kentucky's prized Thoroughbred industry. At the request of this distinguished group of Kentuckians, Clark, a former banker and tobacco merchant, traveled to Europe for the sole purpose of studying horse racing there and developing a new approach to American racing based on the grand spectacles organized by the English Jockey Club. In Europe, the “Sport of Kings and of the aristocracy” was steeped in tradition and ritual unlike that found in America.17 While in England, Clark met fellow Kentuckian and former vice president John Cabell Breckinridge, who introduced him to members of the Jockey Club.18 These interactions would prove significant not only to the development of the racetrack in Louisville but also to the sense of pride in Kentucky horse racing.

  While in England, twenty-seven-year-old Clark visited the Newmarket Heath course, where the Two Thousand Guineas Stakes was held; Epsom Downs, where the Epsom Derby and Epsom Oaks were held; and the location of the original St. Leger Stakes, held at Town Moor in Doncaster. Clark learned about the history of the Jockey Club, the process of selecting competitors, the origins of certain traditions, and the importance of honor as the basis of success and failure. For two years, Clark immersed himself in the habits of the “most chivalrously honorable” traditions and culture of the turf and, in the process, mastered the many details of managing a racecourse. The knowledge he gained would inform the creation of the Louisville Jockey Club and the policies it implemented under Clark's strong leadership.19 However, unlike the English, American horse breeders were in the racing business to make money. So Clark studied a system of betting used by the French called “pari-mutuel.”20 Although it would take some time for this system to catch on in the United States, Clark saw its possibilities.

  Enthusiastic about the future of horse racing in Kentucky, Clark returned to Louisville in 1874 with a plan to change the sport for the better. With the support of a newly formed board of directors that included E. H. Chase, Daniel Swigert, John E. Green, H. Victor Newcomb, J. W. Hunt-Reynolds, W. H. Thomas, and John Churchill, Clark incorporated the Louisville Jockey Club and Driving Park and began to raise funds to build the racetrack itself. One of the unique features Clark proposed to the board was a new racing format that eliminated heat races; each race would be self-contained, and each horse would run only once a day. The emphasis on stakes races also created excitement for the betting public, who could see different races in a single day or over a series of days that showcased Thoroughbreds of different ages. After raising $32,000 through subscriptions, Clark began construction of what would become a monument to Kentucky's genteel past. By the spring of 1875, the track was completed and the gates were opened to the enthusiastic “racegoers” and the voguish petite bourgeoisie engaged in social jockeying at Kentucky's newest attraction.21

  Matt Winn's memoir recounts his experience on the first day of races at the Louisville track:

  The first Derby Day I remember as if it were yesterday. It was May 17, 1875. I was 13—nearing 14—when Col. M. Lewis Clark, the Louisville sportsman, and his associates of the race track which now is Churchill Downs, were making ready for the opening. My father decided to be there. He wasn't a horse player. But this was more than a race day. It was a festival, and my father felt he ought to be at the track to see if the “goings on” would be worth all the fuss the people had been making about the new track, and the new kind of racing.

  Clark, in making up his racing programs, had decided to have three races aping the English. One was to be the Clark Handicap, named after himself, because the St. Leger was named after Colonel St. Leger, who had arranged the conditions for the world's first stakes race. Another was to be the Kentucky Oaks, for three year olds, named after the Epsom Oaks. The third and, of course, the most important was to be the Kentucky Derby in which conditions were the same as for the Epsom (or English) Derby. The distance of the Kentucky was fixed at a mile and a half (1 mile, 880 yards) as compared with the Epsom Derby distance of 1 mile, 881 yards.22

  Clark presided over the inaugural races at the Louisville track. Proof of the track's success was the number of people waiting to enter the Louisville Jockey Club racecourse on opening day.23

  Beyond the dirt track, the facilities included 150 stalls for horses, a clubhouse for Louisville Jockey Club members, and a grandstand that could accommodate up to 5,000 spectators.24 Clark and the club's membership understood that the prestige generated by the track, with its European-style racing program and high-quality horseflesh, would add value to Louisville and satisfy horse breeders' aspirations to grow the industry beyond the boundaries of the state. What is more, such a prestigious event would encourage local merchants and horsemen to invest in their businesses and farms to satisfy the anticipated demand in the East. Along with horses and other livestock, Kentucky farmers wanted to export hemp, rope, wool, tobacco, and corn to markets outside the Ohio River Valley. If Clark's European-style races at the new double-cupolaed structure turned out to be a success, Kentuckians would benefit immediately from the local attention and the national publicity. Yet, even as the grandstand and infield filled with people of various occupations, income levels, and racial backgrounds eager for the races to begin, things were far from perfect.

  Understandably, the history of slavery and the thousands upon thousands of blacks bought, sold, and bartered in and around the city of Louisville could not be forgotten. Even as times were changing and prosperity seemed attainable, race was an ever-present reality. Following the Civil War, Louisville, like Lexington, had become a popular destination for former slaves from the surrounding rural areas, especially those seeking refuge and protection from the escalating violence unleashed on them and their families in the countryside. By all accounts, the presence of Federal troops in urban areas served as a deterrent against former Confederate soldiers and other dejected whites who terrorized former slaves. Although many wealthy farmers whose livelihoods had depended on slave labor during the antebellum period still depended on the wage labor of blacks during Reconstruction, including those who raised Thoroughbred horses, it is unclear how many of Kentucky's prominent horse breeders were members of the Ku Klux Klan. There is some speculation that the Klan's midnight assassins used horses owned by local farmers who believed blacks were becoming too much of a threat to Kentucky traditions.

  Like Lexington, Louisville's black populati
on increased significantly after the Civil War. Between 1860 and 1870, the number of residents grew from close to 7,000 free and enslaved blacks to nearly 15,000.25 By 1870, numerous religious, educational, and political meetings and conventions were being held in the city by African Americans trying to establish a foothold in society and exercise their rights guaranteed under the Constitution. Leading the black community is such endeavors were the Reverend Henry Adams, pastor of the Fifth Street Baptist Church; his daughter Susie Adams, a teacher at the church's school; musician and teacher William H. Gibson Sr.; and Horace Morris, an accountant and former cashier at the Freedmen's Bank before its collapse in 1874. Their success served as a catalyst for others. Although success was not inevitable, the individual achievements of many blacks encouraged the forward-thinking to take advantage of opportunities as they arose. Even in the midst of the nationwide scandal involving the Freedmen's Bank, Louisville's African American leadership maintained its focus on education, religion, work, and savings as integral to the achievement and social mobility of the community. By demonstrating their value through productivity, order, and faith, African Americans protected their own psyches and that of the larger black community from the external abuses perpetrated by that portion of white society bent on exterminating the Negro in America—or at least in their particular part of it.

  The image of Louisville as a gateway to opportunity and prosperity was countered by the reality of African Americans' ongoing struggles to achieve freedom and citizenship. Overt challenges to their sovereignty after passage of the Fifteenth Amendment led numerous individuals to become politically active and agitate for the right to be recognized as men with the power to change their own circumstances. A number of the Kentucky horsemen who were members of the Louisville Jockey Club and Driving Park had been slave owners, the children of slave owners, or supporters of the former Confederacy. For some of these turfmen, one of the most attractive features of Thoroughbred horse breeding and racing was the creation of a distinct Southern identity connected to the “lost cause” narrative. In some ways, the Louisville Jockey Club was a reaction to the Federal government's attempt to pacify and change the true nature of the so-called traditional Kentuckian through the Civil War and Reconstruction. This public display of one of antebellum Kentucky's most influential industries was, in essence, a refutation of the notion that the North had won the war. In the postbellum period, Kentucky's most powerful white men used horse breeding and racing to become the new masters of the Bluegrass, claiming the honorary titles of colonel and general and, metaphorically, continuing the battle for white supremacy.

  On the surface, this newly created sense of identity promised to boost Kentucky pride as well as the local economy.26 But not to be forgotten were those individuals who would make Kentucky's horse industry a success by shaping the land with their muscle and using their knowledge of horses to groom and train the spirited foals to run and win on the racetrack. These black men, many of whom were former slaves, created their own opportunities for social mobility and economic success through the same revived Bluegrass industry. On a tour of Lexington, a farmer from Cincinnati, Ohio, observed:

  Whether it is the normal condition of the outskirts of Lexington or not, it appears as if they were given up to little negroes, in single file, riding horses that were covered as with garments, and looked out upon a sinful world, through round holes cut in their head clothes. One could not but imagine that a circus was always getting ready to start on a parade through the streets. This mixing up of the negro element with the horse is a striking feature of the neighborhood. Wherever you see a horse you see a negro. If the horse is to be ridden, a little “nigger” is perchance on his back; if to be led, it is done by a big negro. It is almost to suggest the idea that while white people may have descended from monkeys, the colored race must have been bred from horses, the two affiliate so readily. This theory might be a great comfort to the good white people who are so tenacious of their exclusive descent, and is respectfully referred to the professors of “Darwinianism” for learned consideration.27

  Although grotesquely ignorant and conditioned by the “Darwinianism” of the time, these observations of the intimacy between black men and horses support the notion that African Americans were invaluable to the development of horse racing in Kentucky.

  The value and success of the horses raised on the various Bluegrass farms can be attributed to the black men and boys who devoted themselves to bringing the colts and fillies under their care into their own. And those horses' winnings, breeding fees, and offspring would be responsible for the economic success of the horse industry for generations. Ironically, that industry would try to exclude those who helped create it.

  By the spring of 1875, this was Isaac Murphy's world. The wide-eyed boy born during the Civil War and coming of age during Reconstruction had arrived in Louisville, where the Jockey Club's version of the sport of kings had attracted 12,000 spectators to witness the speed of Kentucky-bred horses piloted by skillful jockeys in their colorful silks. Isaac would have seen everything Matt Winn saw from the infield that day, but from behind the scenes—in the stalls, where Eli Jordan and James Williams fussed and fretted over their well-prepared runners, and on the rails near the finish line, where he would watch the end of races and the results. Like the crowd in the stands and Matt in the infield, Isaac was looking forward to an exciting day at the races. He could not help looking at the well-dressed men and women in the grandstand, the assemblage of fashionable ladies in flowery hats and their diamond-pinned gentleman companions, or the array of common folk on the rails along the homestretch. The boy would soon be the focus of their attention, and his performance could either make his career or sabotage his future as a jockey. But luckily, he did not have a mount in the first race or, for that matter, on the first day.

  At 2:30, after some jostling among the horses, the official starter tapped the drum to begin the first race. The six four-year-old horses and their jockeys took off around the oval track, each one hoping to claim the first prize. After a beautiful start, General Abe Buford's chestnut gelding Kilburn took the lead and held it for the first mile. At various points in the race, the crowd held its breath when the favorite, William Cottrill's chestnut filly Bonaventure, took the lead, lost it, and then regained it after some prodding by her able jockey, William Lakeland. When Bonaventure managed to hold off the field and claim victory, cheers went up. After two minutes and thirteen and a half seconds, the region's most important horse park had officially been christened. The judges, jockeys, and spectators all recognized that the track was fast, and old records were in jeopardy of falling. Ideally, this would happen during the second event on the program: the Kentucky Derby.

  In what was being touted as the premier contest for Thoroughbred horses and breeders, the Kentucky Derby had been designed by Colonel Meriwether Lewis Clark Jr. to equal the Epsom Derby in England. Clark had called on his friend Colonel William H. Johnson, president of the Nashville Blood Horse Association, to officiate at this most important race.28 Isaac, along with everyone else present, watched as Johnson walked across the dirt track wearing his best suit. They watched him as he drew a line in the dirt to mark the starting point; then he reminded the fifteen jockeys to keep their horses behind that line until the official drum was tapped, signaling the start of the race. It is instructive to note that thirteen of the fifteen jockeys were black, but this was not unusual. As Johnson climbed into the starter's box, Isaac watched the jockeys position themselves and their horses for the best possible start. When Colonel Johnson struck his drum, the field burst forward as if on fire, with the familiar Volcano (Isaac's first mount as an exercise boy) battling General Buford's McCreery for the lead. Both of Henry Price McGrath's horses—Chesapeake, ridden by William Henry, and Aristides, ridden by Oliver Lewis—were in the middle of the pack, with Lewis forcing a heavy pace. Both horses had been trained by Ansel Williamson, who had gone to work for McGrath after the death of Robert A. Alexander, the o
wner of Woodburn Farm. The thunderous sound of hooves impacting the ground competed with the cheers from the stands as the favorite, Chesapeake, was bested by stablemate Aristides. The chestnut colt opened up a gap between him and the field after the first mile and then dashed unchallenged down the stretch with McGrath's “green and orange colors flying in the wild,” to the delight of the crowd.29 Aristides came within seconds of tying the record for three-year-olds at a mile and a half and netted McGrath the healthy sum of $2,900—not to mention bragging rights to the very first Kentucky Derby victory. Finishing second was Volcano, winning $200 for his owner George Rice and proving his salt in a big race.

  Williams and Owings stables also did well that first day. The favorite, Fair Play, won two out of three one-mile heats to take the Association Purse of $400. And in the fourth and final race of the day, Playmate finished out of the money but placed sixth in the field of fifteen. It is safe to say that when Fair Play rounded the final turn, Isaac, the jockey in training, was watching carefully as, coat shining and muscles flexing, the horse bore down the straightaway toward the finish line. Watching from behind the rails, Isaac would be learning how to judge a horse's pace by watching its body movements and looking for signs of fatigue and tightness in its stride. He would be listening to Jordan as he barked instructions to the jockey, telling him when to let the horse run free of the bit and when to punish him with the whip. Or maybe Jordan just let the jockey do his job, leaving the critique until later, when it could be delivered in private and more readily absorbed and understood, and the public would not be privy to knowledge of the horse's or the jockey's weaknesses. It makes perfect sense that Isaac would learn these important lessons by listening and by watching theory and practice merge into performance. He would begin to understand the small margin between winning and losing and the big difference between a job as an exercise boy and a career as the best jockey of the day.