The Prince of Jockeys

by Pellom McDaniels III

  An overjoyed Baldwin gave Murphy all the credit for winning a seemingly unwinnable race. Isaac had demonstrated that he should never be counted out, even when riding an underdog. On this particular day, Murphy made a champion of Silver Cloud, and as a reward, Baldwin raised his salary to an unprecedented level for a jockey, black or white. This caused a “tremendous stir” in the racing community and among the public in general. As the press reported:

  The announcement that Lucky Baldwin had raised the salary of Isaac Murphy, the jockey from $6,000 to $10,000 a year, and had given him carte blanche besides to ride for who he pleased when his employer's mounts were not required, has made something of a sensation in the racing world. Ten thousand a year for a colored boy! Mr. Baldwin's further announcement that Murphy might have a second call for whatever he might seek to ask from Corrigan or anybody else, has likewise startled the community. Mr. Corrigan is not likely to pay Murphy less for second call than he did last year, and this means that the colored boy will enjoy an income from salary alone of $1,000 per month.129

  The writer's reference to the jockey as a “colored boy,” even though he was arguably the top professional in his field, was a sign of the growing trend toward the denigration of professional black men. Murphy's ability to command a salary that a majority of men could only imagine should have been a testament to his hard work and honesty, but that was not the case.

  Chicago's black community was “agog over the Knight of the turf” after Baldwin's announcement that he was increasing Murphy's salary. To celebrate the jockey's windfall, Chicago's “colored society” organized a reception in his honor at the Sherman House, coordinated by Miss Gracie Knighten. Following the reception, attendees enjoyed a performance by acclaimed tragedian Charles Winter Wood, a graduate of Beloit College in Wisconsin, at the Madison Street Theater.130 How Murphy responded to all this attention is not known, but we can assume that he was respectful and grateful for the honor bestowed on him by the small South Side community. If he had a chance to speak, he probably vowed to continue to be a representative of the race and its values. When a toast was raised on his behalf, it is possible that Isaac even lifted a glass of champagne to participate in the celebration.

  It was reported that “belles of the best circles discuss his [Murphy's] name, read of his thrilling pigskin performances, speculate on his probable earnings in the pool room, speak of his magnificent salary with awe and wonder, and dilate on the size of the bank account and real estate investments.”131 Naturally, Lucy would have felt the need to protect her husband from these gold-digging women, and he may have felt the same about the rogues eyeing his fair-skinned beauty. In the midst of Chicago's celebration of the great jockey's brilliant success, horse racing was about to be transformed from an elite leisure activity to one driven solely by greed and the need to win at all costs. This would have a tremendous impact on Murphy's future, and he would unknowingly participate in altering both horse racing and black jockeys' role in it over the next decade.

  Within weeks of Murphy's great victory on Silver Cloud, a scandal at Washington Park rocked the horse-racing world. On July 17, in a three-quarter-mile purse race for $400, Corrigan's champion filly Pearl Jennings was the favorite in a field that featured Mamie Hunt, Glen Almond, Wanda, Dudley Oaks, and Skobeloff. Everyone expected Pearl Jennings to dominate the field, and “she was barred in the betting pools.”132 After a capital start, Pearl Jennings grabbed the lead at the post, but by the half, Dudley Oaks had edged up and passed her. Around the turn and down the stretch, Mamie Hunt took the lead, and Dudley Oaks and Pearl Jennings ran second and third, respectively. Glen Almond made a move at the halfway mark and drove Mamie Hunt's jockey to punish her severely with the whip. At the finish, it was Mamie Hunt first, Glen Almond second, and Pearl Jennings third. If this had been a race against the likes of Ben Ali, Volante, or Freeland, everyone would have accepted the outcome, but it was not. Pearl Jennings's loss did not make sense, given her clear superiority over the rest of the field. Corrigan, as well as others who “saw the behavior of the mare,” were almost certain she had been drugged, but by whom?

  It would take a month, but on August 17 the New York Times reported that a credible suspect had been arrested in Chicago for attempting to poison another of Corrigan's horses:

  The arrest of Thomas Redmond, alias “Texas Tom,” for alleged complicity in the attempt to poison Ed Corrigan's mare Lizzie Dwyer, is liable to lead to some startling developments. “Texas Tom” now confesses that the report of his meeting the man Charles Price at Englewood was correct, and that Price gave him $400 to bet on Binnette against Lizzie Dwyer. Price had obtained the money through Mamie Hunt defeating Pearl Jennings on July 17, when the latter was a very strong favorite. It is almost certain that Pearl Jennings was drugged and thus prevented from winning. Many who saw the behavior of the mare at the post that day were convinced at the time that something was wrong with the great sprinter.133

  Even more disturbing was that Corrigan's own stableman and two of his stable boys were involved in the plot to poison Lizzie Dwyer. They were working with a known gambler named Donaldson, who had sent a telegraph giving the go-ahead to bet on Binnette in the race against Lizzie Dwyer. The plan was foiled when a savvy and observant clerk gave the telegram to Corrigan. As a precaution, Corrigan stayed with his valuable mare throughout the night and “put the dispatch in the hands of detectives,” who arrested his men and charged them with conspiracy to poison a racehorse.134 Of course, gambling was nothing new to horse racing, but how the races were being tampered with changed dramatically with the poisoning of horses.

  After the Washington Park meeting in Chicago, the racing public, jockeys, and Thoroughbred owners turned their focus toward the Northeast and the meetings at Saratoga and Monmouth Park, where Murphy continued to dominate the competition and cemented his reputation as the most disciplined jockey of his generation. As far away as Australia, the reading public had become interested in the jockey who was called the “best rider in America” and a “thoroughly straight and honorable man.”135 By the end of the season, the Kentucky jockey had racked up 45 wins in 120 starts, including some of the most important derbies and stakes races in the country riding for his primary employer E. J. Baldwin, his secondary employer Ed Corrigan, and a slew of others willing to pay the popular jockey's fee. Murphy's reputation was rivaled only by that of James McLaughlin.

  Finally, an exhausted Murphy returned to Lexington to recover from another season of stress and anxiety, excitement and success. Sleep would be Murphy's favorite winter activity—sleep and some quiet time with his loving wife, Lucy.

  Between the end of March and the beginning of April 1887, Isaac and Lucy once again traveled to Santa Anita. Under the guidance of trainer Bob Thomas and Isaac, the platoon of jockeys worked Baldwin's stable of horses into shape after wintering in mild Southern California. Champion stakes winners Silver Cloud and Volante prepared for the coming season alongside two promising two-year-olds: Los Angeles, a chestnut filly, and Emperor of Norfolk, a bay colt. Baldwin had confidence that both these two-year-olds were capable of winning in the East. The latter's bloodline was impressive: he was the son of Norfolk, one of three sons by R. A. Alexander's legendary Lexington.

  On April 15 E. J. Baldwin announced that he would be moving his stable of twenty-four horses to Louisville in preparation for the 1887 racing season. This would give the horses an opportunity to get settled in the East and recover from the long, rough, sometimes unpredictable ride over the rails before the season began. According to Baldwin:

  My horses are all doing well. Indeed, some of them were ever so far advanced on their preparation that we had to ease up on them. I am told by good judges that the stable is the strongest one that has ever left California, and so I believe myself, as from Volante, 6 years old, down to my last 2 year old, I can be well represented in all ages. Especially am I pleased with my 2 and 3 year olds that have many valuable engagements in the stakes in the East. I go first to L
ouisville. After the Chicago meeting, I may divide the stable, one contingent going to Saratoga and the other to Monmouth Park, but everything depends upon the form of my horses shown in the Middle States.136

  Murphy was the key if Baldwin's horses were going to be successful against those of juggernaut owners such as Pierre Lorillard, J. B. Haggin, the Dwyer brothers, and Ed Corrigan, who employed jockeys James McLaughlin, Ed “Snapper” Garrison, the “Flying Dutchman” Fred Taral, William Howard, and Anthony Hamilton, a newcomer to the turf. Next to McLaughlin, whose salary had also risen to $10,000, Murphy was at the top of the list of the most capable jockeys in the country. As noted earlier, some writers had compared Murphy to Englishman Fred Archer, whose success on Lorillard's Iroquois in 1881 marked the first victory by an American horse in the prestigious Epsom Downs. While many had dubbed Murphy the “colored Archer,” there were those who believed the sobriquet should have been reversed, calling Archer the “white Murphy.”137

  Amid rumors (if not outright fabrications) of a net worth estimated at $125,000 and real estate holdings of tremendous value, including a country villa outside of Lexington, Isaac remained modest and reserved. However, one outward manifestation of his success was the home he and Lucy purchased in June: a ten-room mansion on seven acres near the Kentucky Association racetrack on Third Street, in the eastern part of Lexington. The $10,000 home represented more than Murphy's ability to make money: it represented the maturing of Murphy as a man. The house had all the modern conveniences, plus an observation deck on the roof that allowed the Murphys to watch the horses being trained at the track; they could even observe the spring and fall meetings from the convenience of their home. They kept the home on Megowan Street as a rental property for many years and leased it to a black man named Charles Anderson, who would become Murphy's trainer after he acquired a small string of four horses.

  Newspapers such as the Spirit of the Times, Kansas City Star, Cleveland Plain Dealer, and Thoroughbred Record, and even international publications such as the Australian Town and Country Journal, carried accounts of Murphy's successful rides, interviews, and biographical information, illuminating the life of America's most successful jockey. The popular jockey's likeness also began to appear in print—in Root and Tinke's print “Famous Runner & Jockeys of America” (1885) and W. S. Kimball and Company's “Champions of Games and Sports” (1887). Murphy was recognized as a central figure in what had become America's most popular spectator sport, making him a highly visible celebrity. In fact, over the course of the next two seasons, his success and popularity would continue to rise, as would his income. Gold Coin Chewing tobacco reproduced and printed a lithograph of Murphy on a tobacco card in 1887 to promote its product. Whether he was compensated for the use of his likeness is not clear, but the increased exposure only enhanced his appeal and reputation. With a projected salary of $25,000 for 1887, a growing bank account, a beautiful wife, and real estate holdings in Lexington and Chicago, Murphy was a step above a majority of American men.

  This elevation of a black man to such a high level of respectability was unprecedented, especially given the developing racial animosity in the United States, framed by the question: What is to be done about the Negro? Murphy's answer would have been simple: Leave him alone. Unfortunately, Murphy's star status isolated him and made him particularly vulnerable to criticism and resentment by those who believed a person of his race was undeserving of such recognition.

  Nevertheless, because of his contract with Baldwin, the Kentucky jockey had power, and he was not afraid to use it. Murphy decided to ride at no less than 115 pounds for the 1887 season, thus dictating the terms of any arrangements he made with other owners wanting his expertise in the saddle.138 By the time the Washington Park Jockey Club met in August, Murphy had won several stakes races, including the McGrath Stakes at the spring meeting of the Kentucky Association in Lexington, the Merchant's and the Runnymeade Stakes at Louisville, and the Merchant's Stakes at Latonia. Not surprisingly, the assault on the sport by gamblers, bookmakers, and dishonest owners continued to be a problem. On June 11 the Live Stock Record exposed the fact that when an expected winner lost a race, the jockey was often unfairly blamed. “Most of the horses are not pulled by the jockeys,” claimed the editor, but are “fixed in the stable before being brought out to run.”139 Regardless of whether the owners themselves were involved in drugging, poisoning, or overfeeding their horses with the intent of hindering their performance, the result was that jockeys' reputations were suffering. Murphy would have to be on the lookout for such tampering if he wanted to maintain his status as a quality jockey.

  Returning to Chicago for the June 25 running of the American Derby, Murphy was the favorite to win on Baldwin's three-year-old bay colt Goliah. He had won the first three American Derbies, including his genius victory on Silver Cloud the prior year. On the first day of the races, the “track was in splendid order” and the temperature was tolerable; the summertime crowd exceeded expectations, and an estimated 25,000 spectators filled the stands and the infield to capacity.140 Valued at more than $13,000, the American Derby was the premier competition in the West, and the winning jockey would be considered a conquering hero. Unfortunately for Murphy, his horse was outclassed in a field that featured Fleetwood Farm's Clarion, F. B. Harper's Libretto, Baldwin's Miss Ford, and J. B. Haggin's C. H. Todd. The race began as a test in patience, with the field taking twenty-five minutes to get aligned for the start. According to the Omaha Daily World, it was a two-horse race, with Anthony Hamilton on C. H. Todd and the jockey West on Miss Ford; in the last “one hundred yards [they] had the race to themselves.”141 Hamilton brought home the chestnut colt for his first American Derby victory; Murphy was never a contender.

  Although the loss may not have fazed the near-perfect jockey, Hamilton's victory should have been a sign that Murphy was losing his edge in the competition by not riding as often as he had in the past. Had he become less inclined to take chances on horses of questionable character because he was being well paid to run better horses in stakes competitions? Hamilton, in contrast, was a young jockey who was hungry to establish a reputation as a winner; he was willing to ride as many races as necessary to build his resumé and gain access to the higher stakes races and better mounts, which would lead to more money for wins. Hamilton's success against Murphy, his mentor and friend, would increase his opportunities and therefore his earning potential, especially in the East for owners like August Belmont, the Dwyer brothers, and Pierre Lorillard. By July, the Cleveland Gazette counted Hamilton among the “colored jockeys” commanding one of the better salaries in America.

  In the popular media, Hamilton was described as a “pure type of the Southern negro of to-day, thick set, undersized and with a skin of the blackest hue. In speech he is reserved even to sullenness, almost invariably giving none but monosyllabic answer to questions asked to him.”142 (It is possible that because of his lack of a formal education, Hamilton was self-conscious about speaking in public and chose his words carefully.) Born in Columbia, South Carolina, on July 5, 1866, Tony Hamilton started out as a stable boy, working in a number of stables around his hometown. In the spring of 1884 he made his debut as a bona fide jockey and eventually moved to the Northeast, where he rode for William “Billy” Lakeland at Brighton Beach. Hamilton's success riding for Lakeland drew the attention of J. B. Haggin, who was looking for “a good heavy weight rider” to carry his orange and blue colors, and he found one in the serious Southern-born jockey.143 By the fall of 1886, Hamilton was training at Rancho Del Paso near Sacramento, California, preparing for his spring 1887 debut. Haggin had agreed to pay him $3,000 per season and allow him to ride for other owners. In an interview with a New York Herald reporter, Hamilton is quoted extensively:

  I don't think racing is conducted as fairly and squarely now as it used to be, although I believe that the growing interest in turf events will soon provide an effectual remedy for all crookedness. In the West the popularity of racing is incre
asing far more rapidly than in the East, and in my opinion it will not be many years before the West will regularly defeat the East in running contests. What sort of times do we jockeys have? Well, I think we have pretty good times, at least I do. Plenty to eat, good clothes to wear, money to spend, and that is not altogether hard. I don't have to stand as much training as some of the others, so I have easier times. I keep fit from the beginning to the end of the season, and I never have to make any special preparation for a day's work. My lowest riding weight is 105 pounds, although I could train down to 100 pounds, if occasion demanded. But there is no necessity for that, as the stable has a good light weight in Fred Littlefield.144

  This was hardly a monosyllabic response. Hamilton was actually very articulate (unless the reporter edited the conversation to fit his own needs for clarity, which is doubtful). In any case, over the course of a few seasons, Hamilton became one of Murphy's prime sources of competition, as well as one of his best friends.

  By August 1887, Murphy and the Baldwin stable were back east competing at Saratoga Springs and Monmouth Park. Baldwin's earnings from the Washington Park meeting had exceeded $21,000, with Emperor of Norfolk's success under Murphy's guidance, and he no doubt anticipated making that much or more between these two meetings, especially in the high-stakes races where thousands of dollars could be won.145 At Saratoga, Murphy rode for Baldwin in the Travers, California, Iroquois, United States Hotel, Tennessee, and Kentucky Stakes; of seventeen races started, he won seven and finished second in six others. Monmouth Park was a different story. Riding Emperor of Norfolk, the favorite in the Select Stakes, Murphy finished out of the money and in sixth place. A New York Herald columnist described his poor showing as “out of form.”146 Then Murphy failed to win the fourth race atop Baldwin's Estrella, even though the “mare was believed by every owner and trainer on the track to have a ‘sure thing,’ so far did she outclass the other starters.” According to the Daily Inter-Ocean, “Murphy simply pitched the race into the mud through the most criminal carelessness,” resulting in a disgraceful finish and a rumor that he “drank enough champagne before the race to affect his riding.”147 That Murphy drank alcohol before the race, perhaps to stave off hunger pains, or that he was prone to drink at all times of the days seems unlikely but not impossible. However, based on his performances on the same horses at Saratoga Springs, where he won twice on Emperor of Norfolk, and given the increasingly common practice of tampering with horses to affect the outcomes of races, it would not be surprising if this is what happened at Monmouth Park, a gambler's haven. If Murphy had been drinking, the judges would have disqualified him once he reached the stands and weighed out. But that did not happen.