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!
“And so he was, for on entering the back stretch of the second mile the
hero of 7.26 made his most desperate effort, reaching first the girth,
then the shoulder, then the neck of Lexington, and finally, when he
reached the half-mile post, laid himself alongside him, nose by nose.
Then the mass, which during the few seconds of this special struggle had
been breathless with hope and fear, burst into a shout that rang for
miles, and amid the din of which might be heard here and there, ‘One
hundred even on Lecompte!’
“But this equality was only for a moment’s term. Lexington threw his eye
jealously askant; Gil Patrick relaxed a little of his rein, which up to
this time he had held close in hand, and without violence or startling
effort, the racer of racers stole ahead, gently, but steadily and
surely, as before, until he drew himself a clear length in the lead, in
which position they closed the second mile. Time, 1.51.
“Again the hurrah rises as they pass the stand—‘One hundred to
seventy-five on Lexington!’—and swells in wider volume when Lexington
increases his one length to three from the stand to the turn of the back
stretch. In vain Lecompte struggled; in vain he called to mind his
former laurels; in vain his rider struck him with the steel; his great
spirit was a sharper spur, and when his tail fell, as it did from this
time out, I could imagine he felt a sinking of the heart as he saw
streaming before him the waving flag of Lexington, now held straight out
in race-horse fashion, and anon nervously flung up as if it were a plume
of triumph.
“‘One hundred to fifty on Lexington!’ The three lengths were increased
to four, and again the shout arose, as in this relative condition they
went for the third time over the course. Time, 1.51.
“The last crisis of the strife had now arrived, and Lecompte, if he had
any resources left, must call upon them straight. So thought his rider,
for the steel went to his sides; but it was in vain, he had done his
best, while, as for Lexington, it seemed as if he had just begun to run.
Gil Patrick now gave him a full rein, and for a time as he went down the
back stretch, it actually seemed as if he were running for the very fun
of the thing. It was now $100 to $10 on Lexington, or any kind of odds,
but there were no takers. He had the laurel in his teeth and was going
for a distance.
“But at this inglorious prospect Lecompte desperately rallied, and
escaped the humiliation by drawing himself a few lengths within the
distance pole, while Lexington dashed past the stand, hard in hand, and
actually running away with his rider—making the last mile in 1.52¼ and
completing the four in the unprecedented time of 7.23¾, I say
unprecedented, because it beats Lecompte’s 7.26, and is, therefore, the
fastest heat ever made in a match.”
I have taken pains to transcribe this account of the race for a double
purpose. This race fixed Lexington’s place as the best horse in the
country and it was also his last public appearance. Then, again, I think
it interesting to show how the reporters of half a century ago dealt
with an important sporting event. After this race Lexington was taken
back to Kentucky and covered thirty mares without being thrown entirely
out of training. It was Mr. Ten Broeck’s intention to take the horse to
England and race him there. Unfortunately, exactly how even Mr. Ten
Broeck never knew, the horse was over-fed just before a long gallop and
went blind, so he never faced a starter after his contest with Lecompte
at New Orleans. Mr. Ten Broeck and Mr. A. J. Alexander meeting in
England, where Mr. Alexander had gone in search of a stallion for
Woodburn, a bargain was struck and Lexington changed hands for $15,000.
There never was a horse in Kentucky, or in the world for that matter,
that was held in such esteem as was Lexington. The feeling for him was
actually one of reverence. I remember being taken to see him when I was
a boy by my father. We felt and acted as though we were visiting a
shrine. When the sightless veteran was brought from his box it was the
most natural thing in the world for us to remove our hats. A few years
before I had been taken to the White House to see Mr. Lincoln. Upon my
word Lexington to me at the time seemed the greater and more impressive
of the two.
This best four-mile record of Lexington lasted for nineteen years, when
one-quarter of a second was clipped from it at Saratoga by Fellowcraft,
a colt by imported Australian out of Aerolite, a daughter of Lexington.
This only lasted two years, when at Louisville it was beaten by Ten
Broeck, by Mr. Ten Broeck’s imported Phaeton[4], the dam being Fanny
Holten by Lexington. Ten Broeck’s time was 7.15¾. Mr. Ten Broeck, by the
way, was the first man to take American horses to race in England. He
met with moderate success and thoroughly persuaded the English that we
had first class horses in this country. His Prioress ran fifth for the
Goodwood Cup, much to the chagrin of the Americans who had backed her
heavily. Even the “Autocrat at the Breakfast Table” preached a charming
sermon on the occasion. It was left for Mr. Pierre Lorillard and Mr.
Keene to win classic events on the other side, the Derby for one, the
Grand Prix and Oaks for the other. Lexington’s great influence as a sire
was rather through his daughters; when bred to imported English sires
they were wonderfully successful in producing winners. The name of
Lexington probably recurs more frequently than that of any other horse,
except his own ancestors, in American Thoroughbred genealogies.
Footnote 4:
This splendid sire was not appreciated in Kentucky until after his
death. Lexington lost his eyes through neglect, and Phaeton actually
lost his life. So Mr. Ten Broeck had bad luck with the two best sires
he ever owned. But Lexington’s loss of his eyesight was probably
America’s gain, for it is very unlikely, if this great horse had ever
gone to England, that he would have been suffered to return.
During the Civil War the breeding of Thoroughbreds was severely
interrupted, as in Kentucky and the South generally there were sterner
things to be done. Besides, the armies were always looking for horses
without any prejudices against Thoroughbreds, and the guerrilla bands
had an absolute fondness for them. It did not cease, but languished.
Immediately afterwards it started again, there being many new
importations from England, and in 1866 Jerome Park was opened and a new
era in racing began. In this new era the first horse to catch the
popular affection was Harry Bassett, by Lexington out of Canary by
imported Albion. This horse was the people’s idol, and whenever he was
to run the accommodations of the race-course were all too small to hold
the crowds. As a two and three-year old he won all of his engagements,
except the first, in which he started, when a blunder at the post took
away his chances. Although bred in Kentucky, the Kentuckians sought a
horse to clip his laurels, and the choice fell on old John Harper’s
Longfellow, by imported Leamington, dam Nantura (the dam, also, of Fanny
Holton, Ten Broeck’s dam). The two met at Long Branch for the Monmouth
Cup, two miles and a half, in July, 1872. Longfellow won so easily that
it was difficult to believe that Harry Bassett was at his best. And he
was not, for two weeks later at Saratoga, for the Saratoga Cup, two
miles and a quarter, Bassett won. One of Longfellow’s plates (shoes)
became twisted after he had gone a mile and a half, and for the
remaining distance the horse had the entire use of only three feet. They
never met again. In the stud Longfellow was a great success, and Bassett
practically a failure. The whole country watched for intelligence of
these two races, and they proved conclusively that the old-time sporting
blood of the people was as rich as it had been in the earlier years.
[Illustration: LONGFELLOW AND OLD JOHN HARPER, WITH BOBBY SWIM IN THE
SADDLE]
By this time the four-mile heat races, indeed, any kind of heat races,
were becoming unpopular with the managers of the turf, and both breeders
and trainers were called upon to turn out horses that could go shorter
distances at an increased rate of speed. Indeed, the English methods
were coming more into vogue. That the votaries of the turf might have
what they wanted, the breeders imported many new stallions and not a few
mares from England. The result was that what was needed for the new
style of racing was obtained. I have often had doubts whether this
change was a good thing either for the turf or for the breed of horses.
The short dashes enable the bookmakers to bet against six races in an
afternoon, and so largely increase the toll they levy on the public. The
racing stables are enabled to contest for more purses and so increase
their earnings. There is a greater demand for race-horses, so the
breeders have a larger and a better market. But, after all, the sport of
racing is only permitted because it tends to improve the breed of
horses; not race-horses alone, but because the Thoroughbred, when
crossed with other strains and types, tends to improve those types. Now,
does the blood of the new-fashioned horse assimilate so well with the
common blood as that of the more compact, and possibly sturdier, horse
of thirty or fifty years ago? My opinion is that it does not. The modern
race-horse is merely a racing machine, a racing machine very much as a
Herreshoff yacht is. The contrast between this racing machine and a
Denmark, a Morgan, or even an ordinary trotter is too great, and good
results from the crossing of the strains is hardly to be expected; but
the tendency is all towards greater speed for shorter journeys, and it
will doubtless continue until the men who encourage and insist on the
new style of racing bring racing under the ban of the law. Then will
come the deluge. The racing machine horses will not be worth their oats,
and the race-tracks will be cut up into building lots for suburban
villas.
Between 1870 and 1880 the coming of the modern type was clearly
indicated, but the horses that were raced in that period were certainly
grand specimens. The Bonnie Scotlands were at this time particularly
strong. Among these Luke Blackburn, Glidelia, and Bramble were probably
the best. It is a pity that Bonnie Scotland did not have a better chance
in his earlier career. When he arrived in America it was at Boston,
whence he was taken to Ohio. It was only in 1872 that he joined the stud
of the Belle Meade Farm in Tennessee. He lived only a few years later,
but in 1882 the winnings of his get led the list. It was during this
period that Mr. Keene sent Foxall to Europe, where he won the Grand Prix
de Paris, was second to Bend Or for the City and Suburban, won the
Cesarewitch and other great stakes. Then there were Falsetto, Duke of
Magenta, Duke of Montrose, Aristides, Eolus, Grenada, Grinstead, Himyar,
Kingfisher, Monarchist, Sensation, Springbok, Tom Ochiltree, Uncas,
Virgil, and Spendthrift, the latter seeming to me to best represent the
virtues of the old and the new-fashioned horse than any other of this
middle period. But Bramble was the most useful of them all, being up to
any weight and ready to start every day in the week.
The present period may be said to have begun at Coney Island in 1880.
There have been so many wonderfully fast horses developed in this
twenty-five years that even to enumerate them and their breeding would
take a book by itself. The chief characteristics of the breeding,
however, may be said to be in the larger infusions of the English blood,
the English having gone into the racing machine business before we did.
I shall have to content myself with going along very rapidly now, and
mention only those horses and events that have enduring prominence. One
of these horses was Hindoo, by Virgil, the winner of many of the
greatest stakes, and the sire of Hanover and many another star
performer. Thora, by Longfellow, was one of the greatest fillies that
ever looked through a bridle, and as a matron is one of the exceptions
to the rule that hardly worked race-horses rarely reproduce themselves
in their offspring. Miss Woodford, by Billet out of Fancy Jane, came
along about this time, and was so splendid a racer that she was more
than once barred in the betting as invincible. In 1884 was foaled
Hamburg, by Hindoo out of Bourbon Belle. This horse outclassed all of
his time, winning thirty-two races out of fifty starts, was thirteen
times second, three times third and unplaced only twice. His dam was by
imported Bonnie Scotland. We also had Firenzi, Troubadour, The Bard, and
Emperor of Norfolk. Among the most notable contests was that between
Salvator and Tenny in 1890, over the Coney Island Jockey Club track.
Salvator won the Suburban and a challenge was sent by Tenny’s owner for
$5,000 a side. Mr. Haggin, Salvator’s owner, accepted. Murphy rode
Salvator, and Garrison had the mount on Tenny. When the distance was
half over it seemed Salvator’s race in a gallop, but Tenny made up lost
ground in the last half, and Salvator won by only half a head. The first
mile had been run in 1.39¾, while the mile and a quarter was covered in
2.05. Mr. Haggin, who is said to be the most laconic and imperturbable
man alive, is reported to have remarked, with a sigh of relief when the
race was finished: “Uncomfortably close.” After this match Salvator made
one more distinguished appearance. This was at Monmouth Park, where, in
a mile straight away, he ran against time and covered the distance in
1.35½. Salvator was by imported Prince Charlie. Salvator was not a
success in the stud.
[Illustration:
DOMINO (THOROUGHBRED)
Bred and owned by J. R. KEENE
]
In 1893 appeared another popular champion in Mr. Keene’s Domino, a son
of Himyar out of Mannie Gray. Domino was the perfection of what I have
called a racing machine. He won the Futurity at two years old, carrying
130 pounds, but by a very narrow margin. As the chestnut colt Dobbins,
by Mr. Pickwick, had carried the same weight and seemed to have gained
on Domino in the last few strides, there were many, Dobbins’ owner
included, who thought Dobbins the better colt. So it was arranged that
they should run a match over the Futurity course, each carrying 118
pounds. They ran like a matched team the whole distance, and the judges
not being able to separate them, it was declared a dead heat. The heat
was not run off. Domino made a clean sweep of his first season. The next
year he went amiss, and was retired to the stud. Though he only had one
or two seasons in the harem, he was a success, and his name will be
perpetuated in the American Stud Book.
The next great horse after Domino was Hamburg, by Hanover out of Lady
Reel by Fellowcraft. This was a phenomenal race-horse during a long
career, and his get are now doing him honor on the turf. The colts by
imported Watercress have been most distinguished, and one, Waterboy, was
the star of his year. Indeed, the horses now winning the laurels seem to
be mainly by imported sires, though Ben Brush and Hamburg appear to be
holding their own as sires.
These rapidly sketched events I have only meant as illustrations of the
four periods in the development of the English Thoroughbred in this
country. The first period was Colonial; the second period was up to the
Civil War; the third period from the end of the Civil War to 1880, and
the fourth from 1880 till the present writing.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE MORGAN HORSE
The Morgan horse is the most distinctive reproducing native type in
America, and has been so since the family was recognized as a type in
Vermont some seventy-five years ago. For symmetry, docility,
intelligence, sturdiness, and speed, the Morgans have been justly famous
and have met with the approval of good judges of horse-flesh during the
whole of their history. They reached their highest fame during the two
decades between 1850 and 1870. After that, both as a type and as a
family, they came near perishing, a victim to the desire, which merits
the name of craze, to produce trotting horses of phenomenal speed by
means of crossing and recrossing with the Hambletonian blood. That there
is a revival of Morgan breeding is an excellent thing for the country,
for the Morgan is about the best all-round, everyday, general utility
horse that this country has had and probably as good as any type in the
world.
The renascence of the Morgan horse is due to the horse shows, which have
become deservedly popular in many parts of the United States. There are
those who speak of the horse shows rather contemptuously as society fads
in which the horses exhibited are of secondary importance and interest.
To many, who care nothing about horses and know less, it is doubtless
true that the social side of horse shows is the important, if not the
only side. This attitude, even if it be the attitude of the majority of
those who attend the exhibitions, does not detract from the value of the
shows so long as the work in the ring be of the right sort, and high
standards be established and maintained as to the various classes of
horses that are produced in this country. Indeed, it is a good thing for
the shows that people with no fondness for or taste in horses should
still patronize them, for their money helps pay expenses and makes it
possible to offer the handsome prizes which go along with the awards. If
the horse shows had done nothing else than stimulate the renewed effort
to re-establish the Morgan type they would have served a purpose far
from vain.
[Illustration: THE JUSTIN MORGAN TYPE]
Twenty years or so ago, when the horse shows began to take the place of
the old-time county fairs, the driving horse that was popular in the
United States was the Standard Bred Trotter, which usually traced back
to Messenger through Hambletonian, who has been celebrated with such
insistence of praise as the great begetter of trotters that the majority
of Americans believe all that has been said of him as the actual and
indisputable truth. It is not a grateful task to destroy established and
well-liked fictions, so for the moment I shall pass the Hambletonian
fiction by, and devote myself to telling about horses of superior
breeding, better manners, higher courage, greater symmetry and above
all, a prepotency of blood which reproduces itself in offspring from
generation to generation, so that we have in the Morgans an easily
recognized and most valuable type. Before going on with my story,
however, I must disavow any intention to detract from the merits of
those who have bred and trained the wonderful trotters that have, year
by year, been clipping seconds off the mile record until the two minute
mark has been passed. At the same time I wish to insist that the
breeding and training of these phenomenal animals should be left to the
very rich, just, for instance, as yacht racing is. The breeding of
trotters is far from an exact science, as the trotter, as such, is not a
reproducing type, and only two or three in a hundred of the standard
breeds ever go very fast, while more of the fast horses among them pace
than trot. They are not a type in conformation, in action or in gait;
they come in all sizes and all shapes, and are not to be judged by the
two or three per cent that develop speed. Moreover, they do not pay.
Counting the cost of the ninety-seven or ninety-eight per cent of
failures, I venture to say that the production of each successful
trotter must cost in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars. Lottery
prizes, when lotteries were in vogue, were as high as that; but buying
lottery tickets was never considered a good commercial enterprise. I
sincerely hope, however, that rich men will continue to breed for
extreme speed, as they can afford such costly and interesting
experiments. The breeder, however, who wishes to make his stock farm
pay, and the ordinary farmer who raises a few colts annually will surely
find a more profitable business in trying to secure high-grade Morgans
than in pursuing the elusive course which frequently leads to bankruptcy
by the well-known Hambletonian road.
The founder of the Morgan type was a horse born somewhere about 1789,
and was the property of Justin Morgan, who kept a tavern in West
Springfield, Massachusetts, until he moved to Randolph, Vermont, in the
year the colt that has perpetuated his owner’s name was foaled. I have
examined all the testimony available as to the pedigree of this first
Morgan horse, and I must say with regret, but with entire respect for
those who have gathered the evidence, that none of it seems to me quite
convincing. This was the conclusion of Mr. D. C. Linsley, who published
a valuable book in 1857, called “Morgan Horses.” Mr. Linsley in his book
printed all the stories and traditions about the breeding of the Justin
Morgan with candid impartiality, but he did not decide that any was
correct. According to these stories the first Morgan was anything from a
Thoroughbred to a Canadian pony. Recently Col. Joseph Battell, of
Middlebury, Vermont, himself a breeder of Morgans and the editor and
publisher of the “Morgan Horse and Register,” has re-examined all the
records extant as to the owner of the first Morgan horse, and he
announces, with a thorough belief in his conclusions, that the horse was
a Thoroughbred, got by Colonel De Lancey’s True Briton (also called
Beautiful Bay and Traveler) out of a daughter of Diamond, also a
Thoroughbred. According to the Battell pedigree, Justin Morgan had many
infusions of the blood of the Godolphin Barb, the Darley Arabian, and
the Byerly Turk, and was worthy to be registered in the stud book
established by the Messrs. Weatherby, in England. Indeed, Colonel
Battell personally told me that he thoroughly believed in the accuracy
of this pedigree, adding, however, “that while the evidence is strong
enough to transfer property on, it would not hang a man.”