As the wire is passed Huron again increases his lead, and rounding the turn is three lengths to the good, while Phil Dwyer moves up almost on even terms with Azra. So the quarter-pole is passed and the critical moment of the race arrives. It is time for Britton to “feel” Azra. The colored rider looks back, and then for the first time urges Huron a little. Will Azra hold his own or will he cry for quarter? Has he been able to stand the pace? If so, Phil Dwyer must come to the front and finish the work. Will he quit? How quickly that question is answered. The moment Britton makes that move on the back-stretch Clayton loosens his wrap and Azra responds. Will he hold his own? He does not come with a sudden burst of speed, but foot by foot he nears the leader, his steady rating telling at last. Phil Dwyer’s time has come. He makes no response to Overton’s call, and is then and there a beaten horse. The race is between Huron and Azra. It is no longer a question as to the latter’s lasting. The query is, “Will Huron quit?”
The last quarter is neared, Huron leads, but only by a little, that is steadily growing less. Azra is at his saddle, at his withers, at his head, gaining at every stride, slowly, but surely forging to the front. They are in the stretch and on even terms. Grandsons, both, of the great Leamington, the blood of the great race horse that flows in their veins has no taint of the coward, such as that of the colt that labors four lengths behind them. Azra is on the inside, and Britton has pinned him so close that Clayton can not use his whip. The boys knees must touch as the two colts race head and head. The crowd goes wild. Men yell the name, first of one and then the other. But for a moment the cries of “Azra, Azra wins,” drown the others. He is drawing away. Clayton is climbing up on his neck and working like a demon. At the eighth pole he is almost a neck in front of Huron. The race seems over, Huron, after setting the pace throughout, surely can not come again. But he does! Britton has never ceased work on him, and at one bound lifts him back once more head to head. But that is all. The two are straining every muscle, the last link of speed is out in each, but as the fiery nostrils of the racers see-saw past each other with the swaying of the outstretched necks only for an instant is first Azra’s and Huron’s nose ahead. Not a whip is raised. Hands are too precious. Britton is riding vigorously, but Clayton is outdoing him. Can not he lift his mount just an inch or two to the front? The wire is there above them. Ten thousand people are yelling and Clayton puts out his supreme effort. It succeeds! Azra has won. Right on the post he gains six inches, no more, and by that distance stands the winner of the Kentucky Derby of 1892. It is a grand race, and victor and loser alike are cheered to the echo by the excited crowd. The value of the stake was $4,230.
The Kentucky Derby for three-year olds, foals of 1889; $100 entrance, half forfeit; $10 if declared on or before May 1, 1891, $20 if declared on or before May 1, 1892; money to accompany declarations; with $2,500 added, of which $300 to second and $150 to third. 1½ miles. 3 starters. 68 subscribers.
| Bashford Manor’s b c Azra, by Reform, Albia; 122 lbs., Clayton | 1 | |
| Ed. Corrigan’s b c Huron, by Iroquois, Brunette; 122 lbs., Britton | 2 | |
| Ed. Corrigan’s b c Phil Dwyer, by Longfellow, imp. Encore; 122 lbs., Overton | 3 | |
| Fractional time—:25¼, :51½, 1:17¾, 1:45¼, 2:12, 2:41½ | ||
Betting—3 to 2 Azra, 20 to 11 Corrigan’s pair.
NINETEENTH DERBY 1893
Never since the Spokane-Proctor Knott Derby, in 1889, was there such a crowd gathered at Churchill Downs as that to-day.
The weather and the far-famed Kentucky Derby were the cause of it, greatly augmented by the fact that the field was free. It is a time-honored and commendable custom of the Louisville Jockey Club to give a free field on Derby and Clark days, and the association lost nothing by it to-day, as every inch of space on the grand stand side of the track was filled, and no more could have been accommodated.
The weather was simply delightful, and this with a strong attraction on the programme is what is required to draw a large crowd to a race-track. It is no easy matter to estimate such a gathering with any degree of accuracy, but there must have been at least 25,000 people on the grounds. They began to arrive before 11 o’clock, and from that time until 3 o’clock in the afternoon the streets leading out to the track were lined with street-cars, vehicles, equestrians and pedestrians. They came in all sorts of ways, from the dusty and perspiring footman to the elegant and flashy tally-ho, drawn by four prancing horses. It reminded one of the Irishman’s witty paraphrase of an old couplet,