The Prince of Jockeys

by Pellom McDaniels III

  Murphy showed his white teeth in a smile of acquiescence, and then in a low tone informed the ladies in Baldwin's party that he would “make the old man faint away.” When the flag fell Murphy pulled Volante back to fourth place, and held him steady around the first turn; down the back-stretch the leaders flew, with Murphy trailing along quietly on Volante as though he was out for a pleasure ride. Baldwin began to kick, and bit off a big chuck of tobacco and began to chew at a tremendous rate. As the horses rounded the lower turn and entered the stretch Murphy began moving up inch by inch, but it seemed an impossibility for him to reach the leaders, but he did, and one by one they surrendered until when within one hundred feet of the wire Volante had disposed of all but one. Then with a magnificent exhibition of horsemanship Murphy fairly lifted his mount up to even terms and in the last bound landed Volante a winner by a nose, or as the sporting fraternity term it, “by an eye lash.” Before the jockeys dismounted, Baldwin turned to a member of the party and said: “George, I wish you would get these Volante tickets cashed and bring the money down to the hotel for me. I'm going home right away; I don't feel well. Some fellow swallowed a chew of tobacco which I had in my mouth when that black devil made that close finish.”38

  The only truth in this exaggerated exchange was Murphy's command of Volante in the 1886 Saratoga Cup.

  In contrast, the black press could not say enough about Murphy's dominating performance at Sheepshead Bay. According to the Cleveland Gazette, those who had declared that “Isaac Murphy could not ride a little bit are those who, since he rode Salvator in the Suburban and the match race with Tenny, are saying that he is the greatest living artist in the pigskin.”39 And New York Age's T. Thomas Fortune used Murphy's dominance over Garrison in the match race to prove a point:

  It was the greatest horse race ever run on any course, but it was Murphy's race from start to finish. He rode the best horse on the turf, and he is the best jockey that ever bestraddled a race horse. I verily believe he could have won by a half a length as easily as by a head.

  After the race Mr. Murphy joined his wife on the grand stand; and so modest and unassuming is the Prince of Jockeys that few people around him knew him or paid him any attention. Truly here is an idol of thousands of people who wears his honors lightly.

  Counselor Stewart, who had been introduced to Mr. Murphy after the race, introduced Counselor Dickerson and myself to him and his charming wife. He received the introductions with the ease and grace of the polished gentleman. And such he is.

  “Did you ride to break the record?” I asked.

  “No,” replied Mr. Murphy, “I rode to win.”

  “Was Garrison in it at any stage of the race?”

  “I would rather not answer that question,” said Murphy with deliberate firmness.

  “Was the incident reproduced in The Age last week from the St. Louis Globe Democrat [sic] about that close finish, and Mr. Haggin's chew of tobacco getting into his throat in consequence of it, correct?”

  “Yes, with modifications. It was a mighty close finish,” said Mr. Murphy.

  “You like close finishes, don't you?”

  Mr. Murphy eyed me a moment, and an innocent smile danced over the smooth surface of his pleasant face as he replied: “I ride to win.”40

  Throughout the article, Fortune reminded his readers that Murphy earned $15,000 a season riding for Haggin and maintained the privilege of riding for other stables when doing so did not conflict with his principal employer's demands. But Fortune also emphasized Murphy's character and his role as a man and a husband:

  Mr. Murphy has a fine home at Lexington, KY. He neither gambles nor drinks, nor associates with the tough characters who follow the same business as he does. Mrs. Murphy accompanies her husband in all his rounds of the racing season, and no spectator watches with more breathless interest than she does when her husband is up. When the event is over, when the terrible anxiety is passed, when the flyers dash under the wire, those who know say that she wipes the tears from her eyes and heaves a sigh of unutterable relief.41

  The day after the match race, June 26, Isaac won the mile-and-a-half Coney Island Cup worth $1,500 on Haggin's prized filly Firenzi, beating a field that included Beverwyck Stable's bay colt Cassius, with Taral riding, and W. Lakeland's chestnut gelding Tea Tray, ridden by Hamilton. Two days later he again took Firenzi across the wire in first place in the Knickerbocker Handicap, besting Marty Bergan by four lengths riding Longstreet for the Dwyer brothers. If there was any doubt about Firenzi's ability to run under Murphy's guidance, these races surely erased that doubt: she was a favorite to win whenever the great black jockey was her rider.

  With the track at Monmouth Park undergoing improvements and scheduled to reopen for the Fourth of July, Isaac and Lucy had some time to themselves. They had made the acquaintance of publisher Thomas Fortune and attorney T. McCants Stewart, widening their circle of friends in Brooklyn. The couple likely received invitations to several social events, and New York Age advertised any number of concerts and lectures hosted by local churches and other organizations, including the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church, the Brooklyn Afro-American League, and the Freemasons. Thus, Isaac and Lucy had their pick of entertainments and opportunities for educational enlightenment. During this time, the Afro-American League of New York came under fire when its president, John H. Deyo, admitted using his office for political gain. In the eyes of his former colleagues, Deyo's actions undermined the noble intention of the Afro-American League, “whose success depended upon strict integrity and the fearless discharge of duty” by its officers and members. Deyo not only lost his honor but also was labeled a race traitor.42

  New York Age cited the achievements of African Americans in various occupations of note: “In the pulpit, in the schools and the colleges, in journalism, in the law, on the turf, in the prize ring, in all the life of our civilization, the Afro-American is acquitting himself as a man and a brother.”43 Unlike Deyo, these African Americans represented the racial progress made since the end of slavery. For Fortune and the Afro-American League, these examples of qualified citizenship bolstered their argument. Likewise, Murphy's popularity among both black and white horse-racing fans provided an opportunity to question the policies of exclusion in social settings where blacks and whites should be able to mingle freely as human beings.

  Meanwhile, a writer in the Indianapolis Freeman commended Murphy and the black Australian prizefighter Peter Jackson for their success, their manly personae, and their acceptance by their white colleagues. However, the writer went on to question “why colored ministers are shunned and spurned by white ones, although both are followers of the meek and lowly Nazarene.” Again, the use of interracial sports competitions as metaphors for everyday life were illuminating the existence of racial prejudice. In the realm of sports, Murphy and Jackson were “honored and applauded everywhere by the class who mingle with them, and their color is rarely brought into question—they excel all who contend against them.”44

  Murphy did not exactly excel on August 3. After losing 6 pounds to make his weight requirement of 114 pounds, a weakened Murphy rode Firenzi in the Eatontown Stakes at Monmouth Park against a field that included Garrison atop Tenny, Anthony Covington atop Chesapeake, and Alonzo Clayton atop Soho. Isaac was able to keep up the pace until the end of the mile straightaway sprint; in the end, he just edged out Covington for the second prize of $500. The following morning Isaac rose before 6:00, intending to go for his customary long, brisk walk to make his weight for an important afternoon race for Haggin. Soon after leaving, he became sick and was compelled to return home. Isaac consulted Dr. Smallwood of Forty-Seventh Street, who treated him for two days for severe vomiting and pain that failed to subside. Dr. Miller of Thirty-Second Street was then called in, and he treated Isaac for ten days for the same stomach ailment.45

  On August 12 a somewhat recovered Isaac toured the new and improved Monmouth Park in preparation for his two races that day. Tired or not, the
professional jockey maintained his race-day routine. He galloped around the track on horseback, noting all the soft and muddy places, testing the firmness of the course, and looking for any divots or holes; he examined the contours of the track, studied the turns, and tried to get a feel for the angles. He studied the course in detail and memorized whatever could be an advantage or a disadvantage, depending on the circumstances. All this would help him determine how to attack in different positions coming out of the backstretch toward the finish line. This knowledge, as well as that acquired by watching the other horses warm up and knowing the habits of his fellow jockeys, prepared Isaac for his races.

  With Lucy among the estimated 20,000 fans in the stands, Isaac took to the field for the Junior Champion Stakes atop the Kentucky-bred bay gelding Strathmeath, who was everything owner Green Morris had promised: fast. Isaac won the terrific race and more than $28,000 for Morris; Murphy probably received at least $1,000 for his services.46 After that first race, Isaac experienced some nausea in the paddock area, but fortunately, he managed to recover in time to ride Salvator in the Champion Stakes.

  Everyone expected the Champion Stakes to be a great match between Murphy and Garrison, who was intending to apply “different tactics” against Isaac, although it is unclear what those tactics were.47 But based on the outcome, Garrison never stood a chance. Murphy was in what modern athletes call “the zone.” He was like a chess master who could see five moves ahead of the competition because he knew their habits better than they knew themselves. In the homestretch, Isaac let Salvator run free to the wire, leaving his rival behind and leaving no question as to who was the better jockey. At the end of the contest, Isaac trotted Salvator back to the paddock, where he performed the ritual of asking permission to dismount before weighing out and eventually making his way to the stands to meet his beloved Lucy.

  The Champion Stakes confirmed what a majority of horse-racing fans in the West had known for years. Spirit of the Times called Murphy a “consummate horseman” who had guided one of the best four-year-olds in the country to victory, proving the superiority of the record-setting Salvator. For Murphy, it was the “supreme climax of a grand career.”48

  A Great Fall from the Mighty Steed of Celebrity

  On the morning of August 24, the feeling of accomplishment must have been surreal for Isaac—not that anything in his disposition had changed. Still, to be so widely recognized as the best jockey in America must have been overwhelming. His career had covered three separate decades of horse racing, and he had won all the great races at the most popular tracks in the country atop the likes of Vera Cruz, Falsetto, Volante, Buchanan, Emperor of Norfolk, and Salvator. In addition to the wealth and prestige resulting from those accomplishments, Isaac had become a hero to African Americans who were proud of him and lived vicariously through his successes. In the days following his triumph on Salvator, he was no doubt approached by men, women, and children who recognized the great jockey and knew of his daring feats in the saddle. His serious exterior on the racetrack could not help but be softened by the compliments extended by these strangers and well-wishers.

  In Brooklyn, the Murphys were probably the guests of honor in the homes of some of the social elite, who saw the great jockey's celebrity as important to the overall program of racial uplift and self-determination. Recognizing the significance of Isaac's achievements, the Chicago Horseman noted: “The negro jockeys are outriding their white rivals in [the] race for great turf prizes this season. McLaughlin is the only white jockey that ever rode the winner of the Champion and Junior Champion in the same year. This year Murphy rode the winner of the Suburban, the Champion and Junior Champion.”49 In black newspapers, Isaac and other contemporary sports figures such as Peter Jackson and George Dixon were recognized for improving the “opinion of the race” among white society not only through their chosen sports but also through their gentlemanly decorum in public.50 To many people, Isaac was the quintessential gentleman and athlete. In a word, Isaac Murphy represented excellence.

  In honor of his recent achievements at Coney Island and Monmouth Park, Isaac was invited to a clambake at the home of Matt Byrnes, J. B. Haggin's trainer. Under Byrnes's supervision, Salvator had reportedly won more than $113,000 in stakes and purses in 1890, and the up-and-coming filly Firenzi had won an impressive $102,000.51 Isaac took the train to Byrnes's home at Chestnut Grove near Eatontown, New Jersey, and was greeted by members of the Salvator Club, backers of the great three-year-old. According to the New York Times, the evening's events included a presentation by the club to the trainer and jockey who had made the festivities possible. Byrnes was presented with “a magnificent diamond pin, and to Isaac Murphy…they gave a fine silver mounted whip.”52

  The rest of the evening was filled with the usual manly entertainments accompanying such affairs. Interestingly, the Times article suggested that while Byrnes kept a clear head, Murphy indulged in the festivities quite liberally, taking part in the drinking and toasting. A photograph of the event shows him sitting on a fence rail with other attendees of the clambake, dressed in his finest attire—a “derby, a velvet-collard chesterfield coat, and his fashionable pointy boots.”53 Based on this image—the look of his eyes and the smile on his face—one might assume that he had been drinking. Another explanation is that he was tired and weak from preparing for his upcoming race on Firenzi, or perhaps he was still sick with his stomach ailment. In any case, this photograph would be used as evidence, if not corroborating proof, that the once honorable jockey had become too big for himself and was, in fact, the champagne jockey many suspected him to be.

  On Tuesday, August 26, two days after the Salvator Club's celebration, Isaac drank his customary milk punch—a concoction of sweet milk, Kentucky bourbon, vanilla, and sugar—before leaving for the track. Still somewhat “shaken up from being thrown from his carriage the day before,” Isaac arrived at Monmouth Park early to take his usual tour of the track.54 The weather was clear, and as the racing fans filtered through the gates, everyone was expecting a good day of racing. Because his race did not begin until much later, Isaac had time to relax before dressing. At some point he would report to Matt Byrnes to get his instructions for riding Firenzi in the Monmouth Handicap, and they would discuss the proper strategy and who to keep an eye on.

  After retreating to the jockeys' dressing room and changing into Haggin's orange and blue silks, Isaac met Lucy and his personal valet at the end of the grandstand in an area generally “set apart for the families of owners and trainers.”55 Isaac and Lucy ordered a bottle of imported Apollinaris mineral water from the café, which the waiter brought to their table, opened, and poured into their respective glasses. Before leaving for the paddock area, Isaac ordered a bottle of ginger ale to share with Lucy, which the waiter also opened and poured for them. The grand treatment the Murphys enjoyed in New York may have caused them to question leaving Brooklyn, where the fashionable elite gravitated toward the crowned prince of jockeys and his princess. The possibilities of life in the Northeast must have crossed their minds on numerous occasions. Then again, the appeal of Kentucky's wide-open spaces and fresh air, and the sense of groundedness provided by Lexington's black community, kept them from falling into the traps of celebrity.

  When the time came, Isaac and his valet left Lucy in the grandstand area to meet Secretary Crickmore and weigh in for the handicap race. Isaac was ushered onto the scale, where it was determined that he weighed 128 pounds. To make the proper weight, he had to exchange his lead pads, which apparently caused a noticeable delay. While waiting for the process to be completed, Crickmore brought up a forfeited entry that Isaac supposedly owed at Washington Park, and he asked the jockey when he was going to pay it. Isaac replied that he “didn't think he owed it.” However, after a brief discussion, the dignified jockey agreed to pay the fee to close the matter.56 After making all the necessary adjustments, Isaac was allowed to retreat to the jockeys' dressing area to wait for the start of the race.

  Wit
h fifteen minutes to spare before the official call to the post, Isaac probably intended to use the time to clear his mind. During these quiet moments, he might have visualized how he would run the race, thought about the pace he needed to maintain, and recalled the various rough areas on the track. Alternatively, Isaac might have been contemplating his retirement from the turf and savoring what could be one of his last rides as the premier jockey of the age. He might have been thinking about the opportunities that lay ahead as a trainer; in that regard, he might have considered following the lead of James McLaughlin, setting up a relationship with an owner who wanted to maintain a stud in the Bluegrass.57 Or Isaac might have imagined starting a school for jockeys, where he could teach boys how to ride and share his knowledge of pace, tempo, and awareness of the horse. Rather than indulging in any of these daydreams, Isaac might have used the time to simply pray for clarity and protection.

  Meanwhile, the betting on Firenzi had all but stopped, with tens of thousands of dollars being wagered by her supporters at “6 to 5 and even odds.”58 Since she was the presumed favorite, most bookmakers had stopped accepting bets; however, a few continued to offer odds against Firenzi, which raised some suspicions but did not overly concern officials.59 Prince Royal with Hamilton aboard was a 4:1 shot; William Lakeland's Tea Tray was 10:1 and 8:1, and 2½:1 to place. Oddly enough, Tea Tray, with a stable boy named Moore in the saddle, was a popular bet among plungers like Dave Johnson (the same gambler who had lost $25,000 on Tenny), who supposedly wagered a large sum on the long shot to win it all.

  When the time came for the field of seven to report to the post, each jockey moved to the paddock area, climbed aboard his horse, and headed toward the track. As the jockeys positioned their horses and awaited Mr. Caldwell's signal to charge the track, Isaac began to feel unwell. After a false start by Pike Barnes, Isaac asked permission to dismount and rearrange his saddle girths, which a nearby stableman helped him with.60 It is unclear why his saddle would have been loose at this point. However, after readjusting his equipment, Isaac remounted Firenzi, with some assistance. According to several reports, Isaac's face was swollen, his eyes glazed over, and his body slumped in the saddle. Something was terribly wrong.