#ShelfieSunday: Mr. Darley’s Arabian

darley    Review by Katherine Mooney

    Christopher McGrath begins Mr. Darley’s Arabian in the starting gate at Newmarket and follows Frankel to victory in the 2011 running of the 2000 Guineas. Watching on YouTube, you can hear the swelling roar of the crowd, the joyous acknowledgement of people who have together seen something numinous. The impetus for McGrath’s book is in that sound, as he spends the next 350 pages explaining how a creature like that came to be in that place at that time. Beginning with the Darley Arabian and following the top line of pedigrees sire to sire for twenty-six generations to Frankel, he tells the story of the modern Thoroughbred.

     McGrath grounds his project with Federico Tesio’s maxim: “The thoroughbred exists because its selection has depended…on a piece of wood: the winning post of the Epsom Derby” (292). The Derby gives the book a central focus, but it also dictates the scope of the analysis. If the Derby winning post is the thing that defines the Thoroughbred, then McGrath’s definition of the Thoroughbred exclusively encompasses high-stakes flat racing, mostly in the English Classics, and the stud careers of particularly influential progenitors.

     McGrath’s underlying premise is that the racetrack was not just a space of performance; it was a nexus of power. Everyone was there, and everyone cared about racing. His anecdotal examples range from Admiral Rous crossing the Atlantic in a dangerously decrepit frigate to attend the second autumn meeting at Newmarket to 1926’s General Strikers making way through their lines for Spithead, the gutsy winner of the Chester Cup (154, 282). But McGrath is mainly concerned with the men who paid the bills. “[T]he Darley Arabian line has followed a constant arc—as a monument to economic power. However random its biological provenance, for three centuries the thoroughbred has remained a faithful index of a changing world beyond the racecourse” (6). He begins at the turn of the eighteenth century, as political and economic factions battled through the Restoration and the rise of the Hanoverians. From 1750 to 1846, landed aristocracy and gentry controlled the Thoroughbred world. With the repeal of the Corn Laws came the rise of the industrial magnates, and after World War I the turf came firmly into the hands of a fantastically wealthy global elite. These periodizations remain fuzzy, as McGrath does not so much argue as chronicle. But he broadly paints the evolution of the Thoroughbred as a component of the evolution of British national and imperial identity and power. And he suggests that the results of the Classics are invaluable indicators of shifts at the top, as coal barons, diamond merchants, and Jewish bankers were grudgingly accepted into Newmarket, Epsom, and Doncaster (250). Though he describes today’s partnerships between racing professionals and international moneymen as purchased connections “between the lore and the profits,” his own work makes clear that these relationships stretch back centuries (297).

     McGrath largely takes the realities of power for granted. Indeed, sometimes this chatty amorality is jarring, as when he drily tells us that John Scott’s Whitewall training stable “was never the same once Colonel Anson was posted to India…. Mind you, nor was India.” Anson was in command of the Bengal Army during the Indian Rebellion of 1857 (128). The suffragist Emily Wilding Davison, surely the most famous person ever to treat the track as a political space, appears unnamed in a single sentence (259). But McGrath does sometimes step back and remind us of the cost of accumulated wealth and authority to the most vulnerable people in and out of the Thoroughbred world. He does not mince words about the systemic cruelty of industrialist James Merry to the coal and iron workers who made him rich (190). The genial racing man Lord Derby managed to get the jockey Fred Rickaby a safe World War I post in the Veterinary Corps so he could be handy to ride. But when awkward questions were asked in Parliament, Rickaby was reassigned to tanks. Derby got over the embarrassment and in 1918 became Ambassador to France, where his colleagues drew up a “form guide” to help him stumble through his diplomatic obligations. Rickaby died of wounds in France that autumn at the age of twenty-three, leaving a widow and two young sons (275-78).

     McGrath has the advantage of being a superbly gifted writer (this month he was awarded the prize for the Racing Writer of the Year in the U.K. for the third time). He can wield a dependent clause like a stiletto. And his access to today’s mightiest figures in racing greatly enhances the book’s final sections. McGrath’s bibliographical essay references an impressive array of primary and specialist secondary sources. As they tumble over one another in his lists, he demonstrates, in this driest of formats, just how much fun this book was for him to write. It seems churlish to complain about its inevitable shortcomings.

     Scholars will find the book frustrating in its lack of readily available citations, and, for those who have closely followed recent publications in the history of the Thoroughbred, there is not much new. The argument is largely implicit and unsurprising. But for both popular and scholarly readers who love horses and horse stories, the book is amply worth reading; McGrath has convinced me that Running Rein’s Derby of 1844 deserves at least a miniseries. It is a tribute to the author and his framing of his subject that, as he speculated briefly about the possibilities for Frankel’s progeny, my first thought was of Cracksman. Frankel’s three-year-old star took the Champion Stakes at Ascot this year. Will it be Frankel, then? Or will Nathaniel, like Frankel a son of Galileo, carry the blood into the next generation? Nathaniel has, after all, already produced Enable, the three-year-old filly who triumphed in the Arc this year, while Cracksman refused to face her. Both are slated to remain in training. And next spring the story will continue.

 

 

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#ShelfieSunday: Race Horse Men

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Katherine C. Mooney
Race Horse Men: How Slavery and Freedom Were Made at the Racetrack
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014
Hardcover: $35.00
ISBN 9780674281424
Subject matter: Horse Racing, Nineteenth-Century United States History, Slavery, Race and Race Relations.

Review by Charlotte Carrington-Farmer (Roger Williams University)

     Race Horse Men examines how the racetrack was an important political and cultural arena, where slavery was “made” alongside freedom in the United States. The book’s seven chapters, which are structured chronologically, weave together a picture of the lives of the so-called “race horse men” from the early 1800s through to the 1920s. Thoroughbred racing was arguably America’s first spectator sport, and black jockeys were amongst the best jockeys in the country, who rode in (and won) many famous race. Enslaved grooms, jockeys, and trainers were granted significant autonomy from their white masters, and their opinions were valued. They were often well-paid for their work, and were permitted to travel as part of their job. However, Mooney complicates our understanding of slavery and systems of power. Her most persuasive argument demonstrates the shades of oppression within a larger system of total subjection. Mooney convincingly argues that whilst race horse men were some of the “freest” unfree people in the United States, their freedom served to reinforce their master’s dominance. Race Horse Men is not an overly simplified story of how black men crafted nooks of freedom at the racetrack; it is a more complicated story of how white men used the racetrack to advance their power bases and to create a microcosm of their version of the United States, in which they ruled supreme. Masters used race days to “demonstrate their power was rightful” (37), and through the track they “saw in miniature the hierarchical world they wanted, its boundaries policed by violence” (173.)

     Mooney is an Assistant Professor of History at Florida State University, who works on the cultural history of inequality in the United States. Her work adds to the burgeoning scholarship on black race horse men, most notably Joe Drape’s Black Maestro: The Epic Life of an American Legend (2007) and Edward Hotaling’s The Great Black Jockeys (1999) and Wink: The Incredible Life and Epic Journey of Jimmy Winkfield (2005.) However, Mooney’s work goes beyond previous scholarship, which offers an overly sanguine depiction of the lives of black race horse men. One of the strengths of Mooney’s book is that it presents a complicated picture of enslaved lives, which never lets the reader forget the brutality of a slave society. She powerfully describes the horrors of how white owners tortured slaves, which included forcing young jockeys to stand in horse manure to stunt their growth and walk for up to twenty miles with heavy layers of clothing on to shed weight. Mooney’s work shows how enslaved horse men took pride in their work and enjoyed agency, but she goes beyond previous scholarship by demonstrating how masters ultimately controlled their lives and bodies: “Jockeys…were positive proof that slaves could be physically shaped according to white desire…proof that torture could make a perfect slave” (49.) Mooney fleetingly mentions that the largest sale of enslaved people in the U.S. took place at the Ten Broeck Race Course in Georgia, when approximately 436 men, women, children, and infants were sold in 1859. Mooney describes how the slaves were kept in the stables and potential buyers examined their teeth and “prodded them in the ribs,” just like they did with the horses (115). Whilst Mooney acknowledges that this shows slaveholders “ownership of animal and human bodies,” she could push this argument further. Readers interested in learning more about the slave sale at Ten Broeck Race Course should consider Anne C. Bailey’s new book, The Weeping Time: Memory and the Largest Slave Auction in American History (2017).

     Mooney traces the lives of black race horse men through the Civil War and into Reconstruction. In the immediate aftermath of emancipation, black horsemen became sports celebrities and were a source of pride, hope, and inspiration. As racing moved north, formerly enslaved jockeys used their freedom to push for change. The fact that the most prominent jockey in the nation, Isaac Murphy, was African-American, served to raise these hopes. Mooney argues that the real change at the track did not come in the immediate aftermath of emancipation, but in the early twentieth century when segregation laws were enforced in the wake of Plessy v. Ferguson (1896), which legalised the doctrine of “separate but equal.” By the early twentieth century, black race horse men were only employed in the lowest rungs of the racing industry, as “Black horsemen’s success could not be safely channelled into the support of white supremacy” (225.) Whites explained the absence of blacks at the track using a range of techniques, including the scientific racism that gained currency at the turn of the twentieth century.

     Successfully weaving a story together about race and sport spanning over century is no mean feat. Mooney has clearly dug deep in the archives, and the book’s convincing arguments are supported by a plethora of sources, including photographs, newspapers, and personal letters. The images in the book are not only an interesting addition, but they also further Mooney’s arguments. For example, Mooney uses a Currier & Ives lithograph (231) to show white people’s uneasiness with black horsemen’s success under Jim Crow. Mooney’s work builds upon the growing animal turn in history, and it uses thoroughbred racing as a lens to explore the struggle against slavery and oppression. This work will appeal to equine historians, in addition to scholars of the long nineteenth century and race and relations. Mooney’s vivid writing makes this book accessible to a wider public audience beyond the academy, especially those with an interest in racing history. Race Horse Men offers an uplifting epilogue about the reburial of Isaac Murphy next to Man o’ War in Lexington Park in 1967, amidst struggle for black civil rights. Race Horse Men ends by bringing the story up-to-date with the recent Project to Preserve African-American Turf History and social justice initiatives such as the Isaac Murphy Bicycle Club and Everybody Reads Project. As America continues to grapple with its complicated history of enslavement, segregation, and oppression, Mooney concludes that “the ride” for equality “is nowhere near over” (248.)

#SourceSaturday: The General Stud Book

     It’s racing month here at EHC, so we’re kicking off our first #SourceSaturday with the General Stud Book, originally (and still) produced by the Weatherbys. First published in 1791, it is still the registry for British Thoroughbreds. As Margaret Derry points out, the pedigrees listed in the first General Stud Book were not detailed or usable by modern standards; the book was initially more concerned with proving identity, in order to confirm age and performance records, so that horses were entered in the correct races. While the initial pedigrees may not be detailed (and an error here or there has been discovered in later ones), it is still a spectacular source for early racing history, full of anecdotes, breeding choices being made, race records, and descriptions.

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   Digitized copies of some volumes are available on GoogleBooks and Archive.org

 

   Original bound stud books available at the National Sporting Library, the Huntington, and other institutions.

#ShelfieSunday: The Perfect Horse: The Daring US Mission to Rescue the Priceless Stallions Kidnapped By the Nazis

lettsby Jeannette Vaught

Review of Elizabeth Letts, The Perfect Horse: The Daring US Mission to Rescue the Priceless Stallions Kidnapped By the Nazis, New York, Ballantine Books, 2016.

     Elizabeth Letts, a noted author of popular equine histories, uses the lens of World War II to lead her readers directly into concurrent cataclysms: mechanized warfare, and apocalyptic eugenic racism across cultures and species in Europe.  Letts explains how the meaning of the Lipizzaner, and other carefully bred European horses, depended on human allegiance to national, eugenic, or cultural ideals, and she introduces a host of actors – representatives of The Spanish Riding School and post-Hapsburg Austria, Poles, Russians, the National Socialist Party, Germans, Americans – whose alliances shift in unexpected and often uncomfortable directions when it comes to these horses and what they come to signify. 

     Despite the breadth and horror of this tale, Letts attends carefully to the relations between humans and equines who form the core of the story.  This attention results in a narrative that teaches readers much about several topics.  The general knowledge readers gain finds real traction in her use of it to deepen readers’ understanding of what happens to the Lipizzaner horses who anchor the book.

     One example of how Letts’ balances the interplay between big historical shifts and their impact on the particular story of the Lipizzaner is her clear treatment of the uneven military transitions from equine cavalry to tanks and jeeps in American and European armies.  This knowledge has a direct impact on readers’ understanding the motivations of people who later act on behalf of the Lipizzaner, despite grave danger to themselves and an otherwise unclear reason why they would care about these horses.  Certain American officers, those who had been raised with horses and trained in the equine cavalry, had themselves recently transitioned from horse to machine warfare.  These men, when confronted by a dire situation regarding European horses they had never heard of, nevertheless had the knowledge needed to understand the cultural importance of the Lipizzaner, and the ability to understand the urgency and sincerity of Europeans who spoke on their behalf.  This small number of American officers who had themselves transitioned from horse to machine warfare were also uniquely able to understand the consequences of preventing Lipizzaner horses from falling into the more equine-centric military system of Russia, which would certainly have destroyed them.  This is just one example among many of how large threads of knowledge are made intimate in this narrative.

     Letts also does great justice to the complex relationships between humans and horses, and it is clear that she writes these encounters from experience.  For dressage riders in particular, her treatment of the relationship between Spanish Riding School director Alois Podhajsky – a towering figure in my own youth and training – and his Lipizzaner horse Neopolitano Africa is emotionally powerful and fully embodied, as attuned to the movements and signals horses express as well as how humans feel.  Letts does not diminish the role of emotions in human-equine partnerships, and she also ensures that the nature of these relationships is integral to the historical narrative of the meaning of the horses in this war. 

     Many current fans of dressage in general and Lipizzaners in particular may not be familiar with the role that Nazism played in preserving these traditions of equine genetics and culture.  For much of the book, Letts carefully details how many horses were kept safe, while others brutally perished, because they were gathered into Nazi eugenics programs designed to create a pure, white “super horse.”  Readers learn much about equine breeding and genetic theories that operated in Europe before and during the war, trends that run concurrently with the decimation of human populations in Poland.  As this entwined story unfolds, Letts shows how several actors accepted or even sought Nazi protection in order to advocate for horses.  Letts details this complex tale with sensitivity to the horses, but without flinching from or sentimentalizing the human and equine costs of these decisions.

    The first half of the book builds up the prewar and wartime context of the people and horses involved, spanning several decades and continents while leading to a suspenseful midpoint.  The second half of the text takes time explicating a single moment of danger to the horses we’ve followed to this point, how it was resolved, and the consequences of this resolution into the present.  Based primarily on thorough archival research and oral history interviews, as well as drawing from Letts’ own experience as a horsewoman and military descendent, the well-illustrated book holds its own among academic and popular histories of World War II as well as equine histories.  To the great credit of its popular imprint, it has a sizable bibliography and notes section. 

 

#ShelfieSunday: War Horse: Mounting the Cavalry with America’s Finest Horses

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     War Horse started as a project by two horsemen to uncover the relationship between pedigree and confirmation, especially pertaining to soundness and athleticism. It became an immense tome on the short lived but massively influential U.S. Army Remount Service breeding program. Livingston and Roberts, in their search to quantify the pedigrees of the best horses, discovered that they unerringly traced to Remount stallions, regardless of breed. While the majority of remount stallions were Thoroughbreds, Arabians, or Morgans, they had a lasting effect on nearly every American breed.

    The authors begin, unsurprisingly, with a brief overview of warhorse history. This chapter is far more thorough than average, including both pre-Medieval and non-European sections. However, it is in places problematic, including references to a cumbersome great horse and suggesting that the Roman Empire employed war chariots in a widespread fashion. However, these are issues within the historiography they were relying on, and do not reflect the overall quality of the book. They then move quickly through the early years of the Remount services during the Civil War, not yet involved in breeding, through the massive equine casualties (riding, draft, and pack horses and mules) in several wars up through World War I. The overall scarcity of horsepower following World War I, coupled with the need for consistent quality, led to the establishment of the breeding program the Remount is now known for.

    The bulk of the book is concerned with the day to day running of the Remount breeding program, from stallion selection and placement to enlistment of Remount offspring. The book benefits from a large number of photos and excerpted letters and documents from breeders as well as Army personnel. The final chapter includes detailed pedigrees and accounts of the most influential Remount stallions. This section is largely concerned with the stockhorses- mostly Quarter Horses and Paints- the authors original sought to analyze, though other breeds are represented in the body of the work. At the end are several useful appendices, including a timeline and a list of known Remount personal and stallions. In all, War Horse tends towards the romantic but is nonetheless of incredible use to historians of modern cavalry or American breeding practices.

#ShelfieSunday: Le cheval et la guerre du XVe au XXe siècle

By Kathryn Renton

Daniel Roche and Daniel Reytier, Le cheval et la guerre du XVe au XXe siècle (Paris: Association pour l’académie d’art équestre de Versailles, 2002).

     The application of new, industrialized technology in World War I changed warfarecheval dramatically, instrumentalized by tanks, and later helicopters, that replaced horse cavalry. Yet, despite the use of new technologies for weapons and transportation, powered by steam, gas, or electricity, and telecommunications that moved information faster than by horseback, horses continued to influence modern warfare — for example, used in large numbers as dependable “all-terrain” logistical units for supplies and reinforcements in World War II — and left an enormous imprint on the terms and forms used to structure battle tactics and military hierarchies. 

     This cultural memory of the horse that features in the work of social historian Daniel Roche, who dedicated three volumes (La culture équestre occidentale, XVIe-XIXe siècle : l’ombre du cheval) to the topic of—as his phrased it in a summative essay for Past and Present—“the culture of the horse.” Following a career illuminating the history of everyday things, Roche has argued that the horse was not just one facet of life that could be interchanged for any other as a simple tool; rather, the horse created a culture around it as a form of social interaction, cultural expression, economic value and political force. The outlines of that culture changed over time, but persist in many pockets—even those as subtle as equine metaphors and aphorisms used without second thought in conversation. 

   War and military associations represent a fundamental facet of the culture of the horse, and Daniel Roche and Daniel Reytier produced an edited collection called “The Horse and War from the fifteenth to twentieth century” (Le cheval et la guerre du XVe au XXe siècle) in 2002. The volume explores the value attributed to the horse, as a military technology, as well as the cultural structures that emerged in concert with this perceived function of the horse. Many forms of equestrian exercises could be attributed to military training, but acquired a cultural life all their own in court performance, equine or veterinary science, and diplomacy or public affairs. Fittingly, the volume was sponsored by the Equestrian Academy of Versailles, dedicated to preserving and performing historical forms of horsemanship. Each individual essay, situated chronologically, pursues a different angle of horse training, equipment, stable management, and tactical engagements ranging over continental Europe. As a whole, the volume demonstrates the flexibility and adaptation possible in equestrian techniques and technologies as they evolved alongside the demands of military realities. 

     This volume, while only available in French, speaks to the general revision of histories of the so-called Military Revolution that privilege the use of infantry formations and firearms in shaping the direction of modern warfare. Rather than a story of the declining relevance of the horse and its medieval accoutrements of knights and armor, Roche’s approach to the culture of the horse demonstrates its evolution as a vibrant and active element of military (but also political and social) engagements into the twentieth century. Modernization and industrialization did not self-evidently render the horse obsolete (an argument shared by Anne Greene in Horses at Work), at the same time that other scholars of military history question the characteristics and requirements of the fiscal-military state model (see Rogers, Duffy, and Storrs). 

     If the in-depth discussion of techniques for training and deploying horses are perhaps of more interest to a specialist, the volume itself is meant to be accessible to a general audience. The luxurious format of the book, including full-page color photos, illustrates the vivid impact of mastering these cultural and logistical demands to conduct war as “politics by another means.” 

Bibliography: 

Daniel Roche, “Equestrian Culture in France from the Sixteenth to the Nineteenth Century,” Past and Present 199, no. 1 (2008): 113–45.

Daniel Roche, La culture équestre occidentale, XVIe-XIXe siècle: l’ombre du cheval (Paris: Fayard, 2008).

Daniel Roche and Daniel Reytier, Le cheval et la guerre du XVe au XXe siècle (Paris: Association pour l’académie d’art équestre de Versailles, 2002).

Daniel Roche and Daniel Reytier, Les Écuries royales: du XVIe au XVIIIe siècle (Paris; Versailles: Association pour l’académie d’art équestre de Versailles ; Château de Versailles, 1998).

Ann Norton Greene, Horses at Work: Harnessing Power in Industrial America, 1 edition (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 2008).

Michael Duffy, The Military Revolution and the State: 1500-1800 (Exeter: Exeter Univ. Publ., 1986).

Clifford J Rogers, The Military Revolution Debate: Readings on the Military Transformation of Early Modern Europe (Boulder: Westview Press, 1995).

Christopher Storrs, The Fiscal Military State in Eighteenth-Century Europe: Essays in Honour of P. G. M. Dickson (Aldershot, Hants, England; Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2008).

#ShelfieSunday: Crowdsourcing

     We put out a call for a crowdsource bibliography on twitter, and the crowd went wild! We’ll be adding these suggestions to our bibliography, and look forward to more. For this one, we talked about equines in war, 1800 to the present, which will be our theme for November, and flatracing which we will talk about in December. We still have space for a couple of reviews, so take a look through the recommended reading list! If you’re looking ahead, January is ancient equids and still wide open.

 As a reminder, our full bibliography is available as a zotero file. Contact us for a copy!