The first heat was run in 7.37½, the second in 7.49, and the third in 8.24. Not very fast time considering what has been done since; and contemptible according to the pretensions made by race-horse owners of the present day, when “four-mile heats” are obsolete because they interfere with the business of the sport, and do not give the bookmakers frequent enough chance to turn over the money of the public. They base these pretensions on the performance of Lucretia Borgia, a four-year-old, that ran a four-mile dash in 1897, in California, in 7.11, carrying eighty-five pounds. I have no doubt that the Thoroughbreds of the present are much faster than those of 1823, but the only way to compare them as to gameness and bottom is to have them repeat and repeat again, and see whether or not this increased fleetness is maintained. Probably it will not be done, for the one-time sport of gentlemen is nowadays very much a mere gambler’s game.
The next great contest that old-time racing men spoke of with a respect that was akin to awe was that between Gray Eagle, a Kentucky horse, by Woodpecker out of Ophelia by Medley, and a Louisiana horse, Wagner, by Sir Charles out of Maria West by Marion, at four-mile heats. This was at Louisville in 1839. Wagner won the first two heats, Gray Eagle being badly ridden, in 7.48 and 7.44. This race was run on a Monday. The following Saturday the race was repeated. Gray Eagle won the first heat in 7.51; Wagner took the second heat in 7.43. Gray Eagle broke down on the second mile of the third race, and no time was kept. Though I was not born for many years after these races were run, they were so important in the history of the neighborhood where I lived and such frequent topics of conversation that I sometimes have difficulty in persuading myself that I was not present. In this I somewhat resemble the gallant King of England, who believed that he was at the battle of Waterloo.
Kentucky had become prominent before this time as a breeding place for Thoroughbreds. The Kentuckians, mainly from Virginia in the early days, were horse lovers by inheritance and habit, so they took with them to their new homes very little but good stock. They were not impoverished adventurers seeking new pioneer homes because they had failed in the places of their birth. Not a bit of it. They were well born and of good substance, and they went to this new country to found estates, for the gentlemen of that period had not outgrown the Elizabethan land hunger which took so many of the cavaliers to Virginia in an earlier century. That they took good horses with them was a matter of course. And arriving there they found that the native blue grass, which grew plentifully even in the woods, was pasturage upon which horses flourished mightily. The advertisements in the Kentucky Gazette from 1787 to 1805 show that there were many Thoroughbred stallions standing in the neighborhood of Lexington during those years, and not a few of them were imported from England, the others coming from Virginia, the noble pedigrees being printed at full length, with references nearly always to the Newmarket Racing Calendar to substantiate the turf performances of the sires advertised. So Kentucky was prepared with stock of her own to take the place of the Virginia horse breeders when the wasteful methods of agriculture, and the costly habits of hospitality, had impoverished the mother State and made racing a sport too expensive for the depleted purses of the gentlemen who stayed at home. The Sir Archy blood was what the Kentuckians seem to have been after, and soon there was more of it in Kentucky than in Virginia. Some six of Sir Archy’s sons stood in the neighborhood of Lexington at one time, and there were mares there fit to mate with Diomed’s grandsons.
The Whip family were also well represented, and among the other English stallions taken thither may be mentioned Buzzard, Royalist, Dragon, Speculator, Spread Eagle, Forrester, Alderman, Eagle, Pretender, Touchstone and Archer. All a reader, who wishes to go deeper, needs to do is to look at the stud book and see what pure and royal blood the Kentuckians were working with to make that foundation stock which made the State so famous, that at this time there are more Thoroughbreds foaled there than in all the other States of the Union combined.
The breeders there were amateurs, however—men who bred for the love of the horse and the love of sport—until Mr. Robert A. Alexander began his operations at the famous Woodburn farm, where the breeding of Thoroughbreds was more extensively carried on than in any other place in the world. Mr. Alexander was a native Kentuckian, but educated at Cambridge in England. He died at forty-eight, but he gave a great impetus to stock breeding in Kentucky. When I first visited Woodburn, the great Lexington was at the head of the stud. Later Mr. Alexander, as well as his brother and successor, had many other great stallions and brood mares, and colts and fillies from this farm for a score of years captured the richest prizes of the American turf. The history of Woodburn from 1850 to 1880 would almost amount to the same thing as a history of Thoroughbred breeding in Kentucky for that period, though there were many other smaller breeders, as there are now, when the James B. Haggin Elmendorf farm has taken the premier place, and that, too, on a very much larger scale even than Alexander’s Woodburn. As it was in Alexander’s time, however, the smaller breeders, particularly Mr. Keene and Mr. Belmont, are still fortunate in producing most admirable horses; and it will be a bad thing for the Thoroughbred industry in Kentucky when this is no longer so. The result of a monopoly of breeding horses would be the same as the result produced by the trusts in oil, in steel and in beef; the industry would be controlled by one man, or several in combination, and the only competition that would remain would be between the men who attend to the gambling end of the game. This is not likely to happen, unless a corporation be formed to take over the chief breeding farms, for in nine cases out of ten, when an owner dies, his horses are sold and his collection dispersed so as to settle his estate.
After the Gray Eagle-Wagner race, the next one that was watched with breathless interest by the whole country was the match at four-mile heats between Fashion and Boston for $20,000 a side. This was run on Long Island in 1842, and both heats were won by Fashion, the time being 7.32½ and 7.45. The time of this race, it will be seen, was an improvement on that of the Eclipse-Sir Henry race, and also on the time in the race between Gray Eagle and Wagner. It was called a match between North and South, and the North was again the winner. Fashion was bred in New Jersey, and was by Commodore Stockton’s imported stallion Trustee out of the Virginia bred mare, Bonnets o’ Blue. Boston came from Virginia, and was by Timoleon out of Robin Brown’s dam by Florizel. Boston was a grandson of Sir Archy, and foaled in 1833. From the time of his training as a three-year-old until he met Fashion, six years later, he had campaigned all over the country and had meet with almost universal success. He was considered the greatest horse of his day, and there are many students of Thoroughbreds who to-day consider that he was the greatest influence for good of any horse ever bred in this country, greater even than his very wonderful son, Lexington.
The last great race—classic races, the turf writers call them—prior to the Civil War, was at New Orleans, between two sons of Boston—Lexington and Lecompte. The former was out of Alice Carneal by imported Sarpedon, the latter out of Reel by imported Glencoe. This race was in 1854 and, of course, at four-mile-heats, for the Great State Post Stakes. The city of New Orleans, the place of the race, was packed with visitors from all over the country. Lecompte won the two first heats, the time being 7.26 and 7.38¾. Mr. Richard Ten Broeck, the owner of Lexington, was so dissatisfied that he tried to arrange a match with Lecompte. This came to nothing, so he issued a challenge to run Lexington against Lecompte’s time, 7.26, which was the record. This challenge was accepted and the trial was made over the Metarie Course in New Orleans in April, 1855. The most famous jockey of the time, Gil Patrick, was taken from Kentucky to ride Mr. Ten Broeck’s horse, and again the sporting world of the country crowded to New Orleans. Lexington beat the record, doing the four miles in 7.19¾, and Mr. Ten Broeck was $20,000 richer for his belief in his horse. There was at that time, and is now for that matter, a feeling that a record made against time is not so satisfactory as one made in an actual race, so the friends of Lecompte were not cast down by Lexington’s performance. This trial against time took place on the 2d of April. On the 24th of April was to be run the Jockey Club Purse of $1000, and both Lecompte and Lexington were entered. Mr. Ten Broeck and General Wells, the owner of Lecompte, bet $2500 against each other, though in the general betting Lexington was the favorite at $100 to $80. A writer of the day thus describes the race:
“Both animals were in the finest possible condition, and the weather and the track, had they been manufactured to a sportsman’s order, could not have been improved. At last the final signal of ‘Bring up your horses’ sounded from the bugle; and prompt to call Gil Patrick, the well-known rider of Boston, put his foot in Lexington’s stirrup, and the negro boy of General Wells sprang into the saddle of Lecompte. They advanced slowly and daintily forward to the stand, and when they halted at the score, the immense concourse that had, up to this moment, been swaying to and fro, were fixed as stone. It was a beautiful sight to see these superb animals standing at the score, filled with unknown qualities of flight, and quietly awaiting the conclusion of the directions to the riders for the tap of the drum.
“At length the tap of the drum came, and instantly it struck the stationary steeds leaped forward with a start that sent everybody’s heart into his mouth. With bound on bound, as if life were staked on every spring, they flew up the quarter stretch, Lexington at the turn drawing his nose a shadow in advance, but when they reached the half-mile post—53 seconds—both were exactly side by side. On they went at the same flying pace, Lexington again drawing gradually forward, first his neck, then his shoulder, and increasing up the straight side amid a wild roar of cheers, flew by the standard at the end of the first mile three-quarters of a length in the lead. One hundred to seventy-five on Lexington! Time, 1.49½.
“Onward they plunge; onward without pause! What makes this throbbing at my heart? What are these brilliant brutes to me? Why do I lean forward and insensibly unite my voice with the roar of this mad multitude? Alas, I but share the infatuation of the horses, and the leveling spirit common to all strife has seized on all alike. Where are they now? Ah, here they fly around the first turn! By Heaven! Lecompte is overhauling him!