File:Breeder and sportsman (1887) (19788053663).jpg

Title: Breeder and Sportsman
Identifier: breedersportsma111887sanf (find matches)
Year: 1882 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Horses
Publisher: San Francisco, Calif. : (s. n. )
Contributing Library: San Francisco Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: California State Library Califa/LSTA Grant

View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
View All Images: All Images From Book
Click here to view book online to see this illustration in context in a browseable online version of this book.

Text Appearing Before Image:
'
Text Appearing After Image:
The Blue Grass Region (St. Louis Republican.) In the central portion of Kentucky there is a fair group of counties lying together like a picture - elegant farms that spread out their broad pastures like so many private parks; acre upon acre of waving grain; and everywhere the long, rich blue grass that nature has so bountifully provided for his region, undulating like the waves of the sea. It is the famous Blue Grass countryâfamous the world over wherever fine horseflesh is known and appreciated. Perhaps this old and aristocratic little city of Lexington is ti be considered the very soul and centre of this garden-spot. All roads seem to lead to it, and from it they branch off into infinite distance. They are called turnpikes here, and are broad and smooth, and white with limestone dnst, for the whole fertile region rests upon a limestone substratnm. Here and there, in between these turnpikes, are the stock- farms whose names have become familiar through the length and breadth of the land. They can be descried afar offâthe dwellings and fences gleaming white in the midst of their surroundingsâand not a stray scrap of debris about to mar the beautiful neatness and order. It is not at all infrequent to find the dwelling-house small and unpretentious, while the stables are roomy and handsome, quite overpowering the residence, for here the horse is king. It is to this section that the Bonners and Yanderbilts, the Lorillards and Bel- inonts come when they want a fine young trotter or a prom- ising thoroughbred. Many of the Eastern millionaires who have a fancy for horseflesh keep a resident buyer here, who constantly makes the ronnds of these celebrated breeding places, and atteDds all the great horse sales, with a watchful eye for anything like a prize turning up in his line. In this city and section not to be well up in the pedigrees and the general horse vocabulary is to be away behind the spirit of the times. The race course is naturally the great institution, and this one was laid out in the days of the Revolutionary war, and is as old as our, independence. On the opposite side of the town is a handsome trotting track, which is much more modern. Lexington is oue of the quaintest and most conventional of towns. There is a schol- astic flavor in its quiet atmosphereâhappy relic of its palmy days, when old Transylvania University tilled the land with its fame, and toraed so many eyes towards "the Athens of the West." More than all else, here dwelt the silver-tongued statesman at Ashland, just beyond the tangle of streets, who drew so many of the world's dignitaries to his gates. Clay's colossal statue in the cemetery uplifts its head above all sur- rounding objects, and opposite, east of the city, the waving ash and walnut trees of his old home lift their green crowns. Ashland is once more in the hands of the Clay family, and that part of the mansion which contains Henry Clay's private apartments, with the same furniture used by him during his life, is set apart for the sightseers, who still come daily from all parts of the world to stand reverently in the rooms once inhabited by their illustrious owner. A. special servant is kept by the McDowell family to attend such visitors, and a huge register records their names, sometimes as many as ufty in one day. Just across the pike from historic Ashland is Ashland Park, the breeding establishment of Mr. B. J. Treacy. These stables contain the finest young trotting stock in the country the year round. "Wealthy buyers from the East and West, from the Pacifio coast and the territories, come to these stables to purchase. Mr. Treacy is joint owner of the well-koown "TatteraslTs," on Main street, in this cityâa stable so vast and elegant that it quite outshines its neighbor, the Phoenix hotel, that ancient and swell hostelry of the Blue Grass. "Tat- tersallV has a department fitted up for ladies, who transact their own business, for many a proud Kentucky dame, with a pedigree as long aa her thorougbred's, raises superb stock on her rich acres, and knows how to market them too. Back of Ashland is Forest Park, the home of that genial gentleman and turfman, Dr. Herr, and also of Mambrino King. To the leftis Gen. Wither s fine place, Fairlawn, from whose stable the general a few years since shipped a lot of young trotters to the far-away Sandwich Islands. Directly across from him is the old Warfield fairn, the birthplace of the great Lexington, whose name is yet a household word in this region. Farther up this same wide turnpike rises a stately mansion set on a green hill, with many crystal windows and long piazzas, handsome drives, and a sweep of smooth lawn before it. This is the once-famous McGrathiana, form- â erly the property of Price McGrathâsince his death in the possession of Milton L. Young. Under the hill are the long stables built by the former owner, in which the Great Tom Bowling and his confrere, Aristides, used to dream of victory. Noted as the Kentuckians are for hospitality, perhaps no place in the state dispenses it so profusely as McGrathiana; and no one enjoyed life so keenly as its genial owner, who went by the title of "the Laird of McGrathiana. Each year, as the spring meeting came on, this mansion was crowded with distinguished gaests, and a grand banquet inaugurated the festivities, on which occasion every guest was expected to qnaff from the massive silver punch bowl, which was a trophy of one of Tom Bowling's Eastern victories. All the way from Lexington to Frankfort the route is lined with notable places, whose names are conspicuous in turf annals and whose representatives have won honors upon every prominent race-course in Americaâmany of them pos sessing more than national fame. Clustered around the little Kentucky capital, and diverging from it like the spokes of a fan, are the Alexander and Harper estates, the Griustead, the McDowell, the Hunt Reynolds place. reaching way off o Indian Hill, the property of R. S. Veecb, a Louisville banker, whose stock ranks at a premium, and where, it is said, distinctively, tne true blue grass begins. Along the distant horizon may be seen the outlines of Blue Grass Park, the demesne of the late Keene Richards, the only American who ever went in person to the deserts of Arabia, and imported Arabian stock for his private use. A portion of the duelling was burned shortly after the death of the owner, but enough remains to denote what the mansion was when intact. Nearer at hand is the Buford farm (adjoining Alexander's) connected with which was a long litigation and at last a series of bloody tragedies, including the killing of Judge Elliott at the Capital hotel in Frankfort by Tom Buford, the subsequent death of the latter in a madhouse, and the suicide of his brother, Gen. Abe Bofordâthus completely obliterating one of the oldest and proudest of Kentucky families. Then there are Elmendorf, Ronnymede, Edgewater, Dixianna, and a host of others familiar to every horseman in the land. A dozen miles or more out on the Frankfort pike is Nantuna, the Harper homestead, where old John Harper and his aged sister were mysteriously murdered a few years since, and where their nephew, Mr. Frank Harper, himself a man near 70, rugged and home-^pnn, now lives and rules. The farm contains about 600 acres, divided mainly into pasturage and woodland. Indeed, these stockbreeders seldom give much land to cultivation, but purchase largely the necessary farm supplies. The dwelling is rather small, and very old- fashioned, and nestles quiefly away in a thick grove of maple and beech, abont a mile from the road. The stables are about tne most complete and extensive arrangements in the place. Here a few months ago the great Fen Broec-k departed this life, and is buried just in front of the door of his old stable. An Eastern film is now constructing a mauso- leum for him, which is a cottage in design, seven feet high, surmounted by an urn. Inscribed upon it will be the record of birth and death, and each of his great turf triumphs. Truly, these rough old stockmen love their dumb charges surpassing well. These are the same stables that received the kingly confrere of Ten Broeck, Longfellow, when his great achievements on the course were accomplished and he was retired from the tnrf. Mr. Harper always sleeps in the stable with his horses when they are preparing for a great race, but at home the utmost freedom is allowed. The negro boys on the farm, whose pride in the horses equals their master's will leap on the bare back of a $50,000 turf favorite, and drivd up the cows, or fly off to the post office on any household errand. Adjoining the Harper estate is Woodburn, the homestead of the Alex, nders, and the best-known place in America, having given more winners to the track than any other. It is four times the size of New York's Central park, and is truly a princely demesne. It is now nnder the management of Mr. L. Brodhead, a genuine lover of the horse, who has devoted himself to the high development of the thoroughbred. Looking upon the rich acres of level pastures knee-deep in luxuri- ant blue grass, and the stately woodlands of maple and beech and oak, of walont and ash, beautifnl as the primeval forests, it is not difficult to conceive how the first of these Alexanders, a Scottish nobleman, came to Kentucky on his youthful travels, and losing his heart to the beauty and great "possibilities of this lovely land, relinquished his proud birthright across the sea. and linked hia name and fortune with the enterprise that stands at the head of all such in America to- day There is something very taking in the frank, free heartiness of the Kentuckmns, especially- to the Strang-r within their gates, let him come whence he may. The latch-strings hang on the outside in every dwelling, high or low, and the best the establishment affords is offered to the guest, and "no questions asked."

Death of George Fordham. Death has been very busy lately in the world of sport, and now we have to chronicle the end of George Fordham, who passed quietly away on Wednesday evening at his residence, Montrose Villa, Slough. That insidious disease, consumption, had set its seal upon him for some time, and for the last week his life had hung in the balance. George Fordham was born at Newmarket on September 21, 1837, and at the age of eleven was apprenticed to Drewitt, of Mickleham. His first mount was on Isabella at the Brighton Autumn Meeting in 1850, when he scaled 3 st 8 lb, and he scored his first win on Hampton, in the Trial Stakes, at the same meeting in the following year. As a jockey he gained world-renowned fame, principally for his fertility of resource, and, though never so great a public idol as Fred Archer, he was considered by many good judges of riding to be his superior over certain courses, among which the Derby Course cannot, however, be reckoned. To chronicle all his achievements would fill columns, for during his career he rode 2,479 winners, but we must just glance at his principal performances. The first great hit was made by his riding of Little David in the Cambridgeshire of 1853, which he won by six lengths, and in the following year he achieved another fine victory on Epaminondas for the Chester Cup. He has ridden a winner in every event of consequence, except the St. Leger, in which he was unluckily second three times. In the Derby, too, he was unfortunate, for, though several times placed, his only success was on Sir Bevys, in 1879. In the Two Thousand Guineas be steered Vauban in 1867, and Petronel in 1880, both these winners being the property of the Duke of Beaufort. In the former year we well remember Fordham being at Badminton, and, mounted by the Duke, he rode as well to hounds as might be expected from so brilliant a horseman. Seven times he carried off the One Thousand Guineas: on Mayonnais. in 1859; Nemesis, in 1861; Siberia, in 1865; Formosa in 1863; Scottish Queen, in 1869; Thebais, in 1881; and Hauteur, in 1883. Five times he won the Oaks: on Summerside, in 1859; Formosa, in 1868; Gamos, in 1870; Reine, in 1872; and Thebais in 1881. He won the Cesarewitch once on Prioress, in 1857; while the Cambridgeshire was recorded to his credit four times, the winners he rode being Little David, in 1853. Old Trick, in 1857; See Saw, in 1868; and Sabinus, in 1871, and those who saw the finish on the latter will never forget it. Six times he steered the winner of the Goodwood Cup, and at Ascot was 6ve times successful in the Gold Vase, three times in the Royal Hunt Cup, and twice in the Ascot Stakes. Among his chief patrons were the late Baron Rothschild, Mr. Leopold de Rothschild, the Duke of Beaufort, the late Marquis of Hastings, M. Lefevre, and the late Mr. Crawfurd. He rode several times in France, winning the Grand Prize three times, and the Prix da Jockey Club twice, and the French Oaks once. The Demon's last win was on Mr. Leopold de Rothschild's Brag, in the Brighton Cup of 1883, and his last appearance in the saddle was in the Park Stakes at Ascot in 1834, when he rode Aladdin. So ended a long and honorable career on the turf, extending over thirty years, during which no breath of suspicion has sullied his fair fame. It will be a gratification to many to know that he died without suffering. Carefully attended by affectionate hands, he has crossed the Valley of the Shadow of Death, leaving behind him a name that, we are sure, will never be mentioned without a kind thought to the memory of one of the fairest riders that ever crossed a saddle. Of all the celebrated jockeys of the century, including Buckle, Flatman and Archer, none exceeded Fordham for his ability in the saddle, and certainly not one has commanded more thorough respect for his character as a man.

Dick Conklin, the Former Breeder of Rarus and Wedgewood, Passes Away- Greexpobt. L. I., Oct. 27.âRichard B. Conklin, proprietor of the Sound View Stock Farm, died yesterday of inflamma- tion of the bowels. He was 70 years old. As a breeder and raiser of tine stock Mr. Conklin was well known. He was born in New York and was a stag^ carpenter. For many years he was employed at the Academy of Music. In the year I84S he purchased a provision stand in Fulton Market, where he acquired a fortnne. In 1S65 he purchased the Sound View Stock Farm at Arshamamogue, about two miles from Greenport. He built the best-designed and most-com- plete buildings for stock raising purposes in the couu'rv here he T&Ue many horses whose reputations are wori 1 including Rarus, sold to Robert Bonner for 536,000; W wood, sold for $20,000; Abraham Lincoln, R. B. Hay.- King "Wilkes. As a successful trainer and breeder h* st very high among horsemen.

Note About Images