By the spring of 1880, Isaac would be a year older and wiser in the ways of the turf and life's disappointments. During the winter months, he may have joined Frankfort Baptist Church, attended public lectures about black suffrage, and even taken advantage of educational opportunities at the local school for blacks. Isaac would go into town to get his hair cut at the barbershop, purchase clothes and shoes,121 and satisfy his other indulgences, whatever they were, with like-minded individuals. And he would meet his future wife, Lucy Carr.
Still, the status of blacks in Frankfort was no different from that of blacks throughout Kentucky. Those who were seen as threats to white power were singled out and persecuted for their advocacy of black citizenship rights. A Republican stronghold, Frankfort had one of the most active black communities in the state in terms of pushing back against the aggressive agenda to jettison the gains won in the Civil War and the radical policies of Reconstruction. Unfortunately, the collusion among state and local governments and wealthy, middle-class, and poor whites undermined the democratic process and hindered blacks' progress. White men worked with impunity to regulate, criminalize, and eliminate black lives. The amount and degree of violence and lawlessness visited on African Americans—in a state where Christianity was professed to be the foundation of civilization—were shameful. It would be another decade before Kentucky passed an antilynching law to protect its black citizens from white mob violence. If Isaac learned anything from the black community of Frankfort, it was that his relationship with J. W. Hunt-Reynolds, the city's favorite son, was vital to protect him from jealous white boys who thought that his success limited theirs.
There is good reason to believe that white Kentuckians considered blacks a detriment to the progress of the state, as well as the country. In March 1880 a writer in the Kentucky Live Stock Record suggested the following:
If the negro would leave the State, it would be greatly benefitted thereby, both in wealth, population and increased development. The negro in large numbers, be he slave or freeman is detrimental to the development of the country, as history of every slave State in the Union has demonstrated.
As a class, with few exceptions, they are ignorant, indolent, dull, improvident, and any thing but enterprising citizens. Nothing has done so much to retard Kentucky's progress as negro labor, which has hung like an incubus upon her development, and the sooner our people are convinced of the fact the more rapid will be our increase in wealth, prosperity and power.122
Of course, the writer ignores the history of slavery and the human equity poured into the state's development by people of African descent. Nor does the author recognize that the wealthy had no desire to provide other white men with opportunities to climb economically, socially, or politically; their sole objective was profitability and the power wealth provided.
Arguments like these would be responsible for a gradual decline in the employment of black boys and men as jockeys at major tracks across the country. On the major horse farms in the South and at tracks in the East, African American trainers and jockeys were already losing ground as whites began to consolidate power around Negro hating. But in Isaac Murphy's case, his phenomenal success on the turf still drew the attention of owners who wanted him to guide their horses in the major stakes races, which of course increased his earning capacity significantly. In the 1880 season Isaac rode at weights from 100 to 113 pounds for ten different owners, including J. W. Hunt-Reynolds and H. P. McGrath. Over the course of four months, however, the popular jockey rode in only thirty-two races, posting ten victories and a dozen second-place, seven third-place, one fifth-place, and one eighth-place finishes. In the month of August, Isaac was absent from the track at Saratoga Springs—or any other track, for that matter. This could be explained by any number of things—an injury or illness, or perhaps some violent act against him by those hoping to sabotage his success. One other possibility is that America Murphy's death, recorded as occurring in 1879, actually took place in 1880; this would justify Isaac's absence in August, placing him in Lexington making preparations for his mother's burial. Wherever Isaac was in August, the next month would bring another tragedy.
In September, in between the Lexington and the Louisville Jockey Club meetings, the Hunt-Reynolds family departed Fleetwood to attend the Westfeldt family reunion in Shufordville, North Carolina, right outside of Asheville. J. W., Meta, and their daughter Christina left Frankfort the week of September 15. J. W. probably planned to spend some time with the Westfeldt family before joining Eli and Isaac in Louisville for the races. Prior to their departure, J. W. had been suffering from an undiagnosed sickness, but based on published reports, he was in relatively good health. However, on the evening of September 22, 1880, thirty-four-year-old J. W. Hunt-Reynolds died from a ruptured blood vessel in the brain.123 Two days prior, he had complained of a headache but did not seek the advice of the local doctor. Hunt-Reynolds's contributions to the turf would not be forgotten. With J. W.'s death, Isaac lost not only a generous mentor and employer but also his security in the horse-racing world. He would have to find other owners to ride for to fulfill his destiny. In this time of great disappointment, loss, and uncertainty, Isaac had to take hold of his future.
7
An Elegant Specimen of Manhood
1881–1889
In the early spring of 1881, Isaac found himself largely alone, having lost his mother in 1879, followed by the passing of J. W. Hunt-Reynolds, his mentor and employer, in the fall of 1880. Other than Eli Jordan, who had been a father figure to Isaac since childhood, he had no family connections. There is no evidence that his mother's siblings kept in contact with their nephew after leaving Lexington sometime before 1873. Now twenty years old, Isaac would have sought female companionship among the young black women in the Frankfort community, near his home on the Fleetwood Stock Farm.
Although it was not uncommon for jockeys to marry, the reality of a jockey's life made marriage difficult. There would be long periods of separation as he traveled around the country for six to nine months of the year, and there were no guarantees of a steady income that a family could depend on.1 As a result, most jockeys remained single, seeking companionship whenever and wherever they could find it. Bawdy houses, saloons, and cabarets were patronized by heroes of the turf, some of whom lived hard by day and harder by night.2 How many jockeys contracted venereal diseases, participated in sexual trysts with male prostitutes, or came to ruin as a result of their sexual desires is not known, but we do know that there was no shortage of venues near racetracks where men could satisfy their carnal desires. Despite the well-publicized images of high culture associated with horse racing—its wealthy white patrons, elegant gambling facilities, and extravagant parties—sex work was a prevalent feature of jockey clubs.3 Essentially, jockey clubs were homosocial environments catering to the maintenance and elevation of white male privilege for their elite membership. These all-male clubs served to reinforce white male power over minorities, women, less powerful white men, and immigrants. Indeed, through minstrel shows, performances by Irish actors and musicians, and burlesque shows by women from an array of backgrounds (but most of whom lacked the protection of honest labor and domesticity), the jockey club embodied traditional ideas related to racism, sexism, and classism. These clubs also may have served as a liminal space for elite experimentation with the homoerotic, with cross-dressing white men in blackface providing racial and sexual ambiguity. Historian Eric Lott suggests that blackface minstrelsy functioned to mediate “white men's desires for other white men” or to fulfill a “fantasy of racial conversion” representative of sexual envy of or desire for black men.4 Clearly, these jockey clubs were off-limits to black jockeys and trainers.
Through horse racing, Isaac was exposed to a variety of venues that promoted illicit sex, drinking, and gambling as cultural and social norms. In cities across the country, these types of establishments in African American communities gave black heroes of the turf the occasion to interact with locals, while c
ontributing to the local economy by spending their money on the numerous pleasures available.5 Nightlife became an integral part of the racing experience. We do not know whether Isaac participated in any of these social activities, whether he indulged in transient sexual encounters in the various cities he visited or abstained from sex until marriage, or whether he pursued a relationship with a young lady in Kentucky of a character similar to his own. We can only imagine that the quiet, religious young man was exactly what he seemed.
Isaac began to focus on what he wanted to achieve through his career as a professional jockey. He likely saw his life as a series of decisions that, if he chose wisely, would ultimately lead to success and accomplishments beyond the track. He had achieved his manhood in the saddle and could not afford any distractions or setbacks that might jeopardize his favored position among the owners. Barring any unforeseen acts of God, Isaac planned to use his talent to construct a viable representation of nineteenth-century manhood that would be taken seriously by the powerful whites he had to impress, while laying the foundation for a life beyond jockeying. Both on the track and in public, he presented himself as a professional man whose skill and talent were invaluable. This self-awareness of his value and earning potential had been cultivated in Frankfort, under the guidance of Eli Jordan and J. W. Hunt-Reynolds. Historian Ed Hotaling, among others, has suggested that Isaac also benefited from the “refined and sympathetic” talents of Meta Hunt-Reynolds, who “took an interest in him.”6
Isaac had been with the Hunt-Reynolds family for just under two years and may have grown close to Meta and eleven-year-old Christina during that time. Isaac's likable nature, sharp intellect, and boyish appeal made him attractive to those who recognized his potential. But whether Meta became “another important role model, a molder of character and manners,” as Hotaling suggests, is not known.7 However, there is reason to believe that she was taken by the boy's ability to read and write, his affinity for honesty, and his religious declarations. Her interest seems less connected to narratives of white matriarchal subjectivity of black children and adults and more like that of an employer generally concerned about the welfare of a valued employee, or perhaps a teacher wanting the best for a prized pupil. As we shall see, Isaac's contributions to the success of Fleetwood Farm and the support of J. W.'s widow added to his achievements and his popularity.
The widowed Meta Hunt-Reynolds refused to fall in line with traditional notions of femininity and decided to keep her husband's legacy alive and continue to run their horse farm in the Bluegrass. Less than a month after she buried her husband, the Cincinnati Daily Gazette reported that “Mrs. J. W. Hunt-Reynolds will not sell the race horses, but will train them next season.”8 As the wife of one of the founders of the Louisville Jockey Club, she remained committed to the purpose of Fleetwood Farm: improvement of the Thoroughbred for the development of Kentucky's commercial and agricultural industry. The question was whether club president Meriwether Lewis Clark, secretary D. W. Johnson, and the other board members would accept her. Presumably out of respect for J. W. Hunt-Reynolds, the club did not publicly resist the membership of a woman in the Louisville Jockey Club—which, up to now, had been a private reserve for Kentucky's most prominent white men. Only time would tell how club members really felt about recent developments and how willing they were to change their well-entrenched positions on race, class, and gender. For the time being, they allowed Meta to make this public gesture in her husband's memory.
Securing the assistance of Eli Jordan, Meta prepared for the challenges of running a horse farm. At the time, it was unheard of for a woman to undertake such a task, but it was not impossible. Businesses like Fleetwood Farm were generally all-male domains; women merely added some softness and civility to the rough and manly atmosphere, acting as aesthetic accoutrements at race meets or in the members-only clubhouse. But Meta was up to the task of operating the business she had likely helped her husband develop over the dozen or more years of their marriage. Her determination to step in may have been an indicator that Fleetwood Farm was as much her creation as J. W.'s. Meta may have contacted her father and brothers, who were coffee merchants, to ask their advice, but horses were outside their area of expertise. She would have to depend on the help of those in the know: Eli Jordan and Isaac Murphy.
One sign that Meta was knowledgeable about the procedures related to Thoroughbred management was that on April 18 she registered three foals recently born at Fleetwood Farm: a chestnut filly named Whisperina, a brown filly with a blazed face and four white feet named Facsimile, and a bay filly named Fleta.9 How Eli Jordan felt about working for a woman is not known. Perhaps the seasoned trainer of champion horses saw it as a chance to test his own ideas about grooming and training, which he might have been reluctant to express under a male owner. Perhaps the fifty-eight-year-old Jordan just saw it as a sign of the times.
Although there was increased competition between blacks and German and Irish immigrants for better-paying jobs, black trainers and jockeys were still favored over whites. It is also important to note that between 1880 and 1883, the immigration of Europeans accelerated, while the Chinese immigrants who had settled in the West were being excluded from American life as an indigestible element in the “body politic.”10 Historian Anna Pegler-Gordon argues that this separate and unequal immigration policy—or “twin tracks” for inclusion and exclusion—began as early as 1875 with the Page Act, which prohibited the immigration of Chinese women who were prostitutes or the second wives in polygamous marriages.11 This act of Congress not only revealed a deep-seated belief in the institution of marriage as a contract between one man and one woman of consensual age but also shed light on the assumption that Chinese culture threatened American notions of democracy. This rejection of polygamy also manifested as a growing contempt for Mormonism during the 1880s; polygamy was seen as a social and cultural evil that made a “mockery of marriage” and led to the “self-degradation” of women. Endorsement of the practice threatened American life in general and mainstream Christianity in particular. In other words, polygamy was a battleground not only for a cultural war against the Chinese but also for a religious war against the Mormons, who “had long been derided for their bizarre religious beliefs, their secretiveness, their hierarchical organization, [and] their unquestioning obedience to self-proclaimed prophets.”12
The Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 made it clear that the Chinese were not welcome in America. It castigated the hardworking people who had helped connect the nation through the building of the Transcontinental Railroad. Similar to African Americans, the Chinese sought economic security and social mobility wherever they could be found, and most were willing to do work that white men would not. In the words of nineteenth-century African American scholar Alexander Crummell, this form of “temporal prosperity” was the first step for people in need of “self-dependence” who sought to “raise themselves above want, and to meet the daily needs of home and family.”13 Unfortunately, because the Chinese were willing to work for low wages and in dangerous conditions, they aroused the hatred of white men, who argued that the Chinamen were taking white men's jobs and were “likely to overwhelm” the country with their numbers.14
These events reflected the growing tension over labor practices throughout the United States, especially in urban industrial areas, where blacks and immigrants competed for opportunities to work. Within the “bounds of whiteness,” Irish and German immigrants constructed an identity based on their position as the newly disadvantaged and the need to forge relationships with other identifiable whites to deny blacks and Chinese access to social, political, or economic power. Thus, as historian Abby Ferber argues, “white identity developed…as a consolidation of privilege” and as an act of denying nonwhites the opportunity to become equal contributors to the labor market.15 This neo-white movement, fueled by economic tension, fear of competition, and public contradiction of the inherent inferiority of blacks and Chinese, was the basis for black-and yellow-face
d minstrelsy. Masking such anxieties behind playful yet violent portrayals of “intractable social conflicts” fueled the production of racial caricatures—African Americans as animalistic and subhuman, and Chinese as vile and shiftless. This, in turn, fed the growing practice of mob action as a corrective public exercise against violations of the social order.16
For Isaac Murphy and other black jockeys, the racetrack represented democracy at its best. Indeed, the opportunity to succeed was available to anyone brave enough to ride a horse, but those whose skill exceeded that of the average jockey could attain much more. Isaac's success would eventually generate jealousy among the white boys who conspired to exclude “coloreds” from the tracks. In the Northeast in particular, tens of thousands of Irish immigrants aggressively challenged African Americans’ economic opportunities, and the racetrack would be the scene of both real and metaphorical confrontations between blacks and whites in the coming decades. The fight was believed to be for dominance of America, achieved by reaffirming one's place in society through one's productivity. Beyond the simple equation that work provided income, which in turn provided social mobility, economic stability, and political influence, European immigrants equated work with power, and power with whiteness. This notion of whiteness as an unchallenged position and possession fueled violence against black men for minor infractions and imagined transgressions against white male privilege. Of course, these acts were instigated by rabid racists, social Darwinists, and angry Southerners who could not bring themselves to honor the Federal government's claim that people of African descent were, in fact, American.
The Prince of Jockeys Page 27
