To-day will ever be historic in the turf annals of Kentucky, as the first
"Derby Day," of what I hope to see a long series of turf festivities. If
the officers of the Association could have had the pick from the calendar
of the year, there could not have been a more delightful and charming day.
The morning broke without a cloud visible in the heavens, while a cool
breeze was wafted over the course, tempering the increasing rays of the
sun. It was just such a day in May
When the sun is rejoicing above in heaven,
The clouds have all hurried away.
Down in the meadow the blossoms are waking,
Light on their twigs the young leaves are shaking,
Round the warm knolls the lambs are a leaping,
The colt from his fold o'er the pasture is sweeping,
But on the bright lake,
The little waves break,
For there the cool west is at play.
The course was in splendid order, and all the appurtenances requisite for
the comfort and convenience of racing was ready to hand. In company with a
friend we started early for the course, thinking that we would reach it
before the crowd, but by half past eleven o'clock we found enough people
to make a respectable show. As the hour approached for the opening of the
ball, every avenue leading to the course was thronged with people making
their way to it. It was indeed a Derby Day in all respects. With the two
railroads leading to the course, the street cars, hacks and private
vehicles, when the first bell was rung for the riders, the Grand Stand
presented one solid mass of human faces, while the quarter-stretch, the
public stand, and a portion of the field was covered with people. There
could not have been less than 10,000 persons on the course, composed of
all grades of society, the banker, the merchant, the gentleman of leisure
and pleasure seeker, the butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, _et id
omne genus_. That portion of the Grand Stand devoted to the ladies was one
grand bouquet of beauty, refinement and intelligence. The ladies in the
various costumes looked like so many parti-colored butterflies, balancing
themselves on their wings, in the slanting rays of the bright sun. At one
time you met a beauty with such sweetness in her upturned eyes, such as
fancy lends to the Madonna; at another point, one on whose lips the words
laugh, and whose stately steps
Are light, as though a winged angel trod
Over earth flowers, and fear'd to brush away
Their delicate hues.
All the shades of beauty is fully represented, from the blonde to the
brunette, from the matron, whose hair is threaded with the silver, to the
young girl just blushing into womanhood, whose cheeks are as ruby red as a
peach that has been kissed by the sun.
The Derby came next, and fifteen finer or handsomer youngsters never faced
a starter. McGrath's entries had the call in the betting and many thought
he would win with Chesapeake, but Aristides, the son of Leamington,
carried off the honors, and worthily earned a chaplet, one of the best
three-year-olds ever stripped for a race in this country. It was extremely
gratifying to the friends of the liberal Laird of McGrathiana, and will be
doubly gratifying to Aristides Welch, the owner of Leamington, after whom
the colt is christened. This is the best race at the weights ever run by
three-year-olds in this country, and cannot fail to make Aristides a still
stronger favorite for his Eastern engagements.