A Warning from Colonel Wall

A West Point graduate and lifelong cavalryman, John F. Wall served with the United States Army for more than thirty years, including stints in the Philippines, the Far West and along the Mexican border. Charged with the responsibilities of purchasing and breeding stock for the Army's Remount Service in Lexington, Kentucky, he rose to the rank of Colonel and in time was named Chief of the Remount Service and Commanding Officer of the Remount Depot at Front Royal, Virginia.

Colonel Wall penned several important works relating to the breeding of Thoroughbreds, including Thoroughbred Bloodlines and Practical Light Horse Breeding. I came across this timely passage while paging through Wall's Famous Running Horses this evening:

"Few sports equal in popularity those in which the horse participates. In addition, with the horse there is the incentive to breed, to raise, to train and to have them perform better than those of a rival. Horses cannot be bought by the dozen. It is well that this is so for the interest in selection or the necessity for constant care, as the animal matured and trained, would contain no challenge...

...One does not have far to go in seeking a good reason for racing. He may be inclined to place his tongue in his cheek when it is said that racing has for its motive 'the improvement of the breed.' Admittedly, the average race-goer is not directly concerned with testing the breeding of a horse. He is interested only in enjoying and profiting from the contest immediately presented. Yet, to the breeder, the test of a race will determine the quality of the heart and lungs, the bone and tendon and the general makeup which develop speed. Several good horses by a sire and from mares of a family that perform well, will serve as the best indication to breeders that correct matings are being made, for it is certain that weakness and strength will be clearly indicated on the race course.

A secondary reason for the existence of racing is the wholesome enjoyment afforded the public. It has been remarked that one can be as lonely in a crowd as if he were on a high mountain peak or lost in a dense forest. This need not happen at the races. At the race course, care is forgotten. Blood flows quickly, laughter is frequent, conversation is commonplace as men and women from all walks of life jostle one another for points of vantage at the paddock or along the rail from which the finish of a race may be seen. The average spectator does not attend races in the hopes of exploiting them for selfish gain and the experienced race-goer has long since realized the futility of it.

It is hoped the day will never come, even if we have national lotteries, when spectators will desert the race track with its sweat, heat and smell, for an air cooled salon, where lawful wagers could be made and the race viewed by television. Such habit would spell the doom of breeding and decent racing.

~ Colonel John F. Wall, Famous Running Horses

DMM

The Shared Mystique

"Man is himself, like the universe he inhabits, like the demoniacal stirrings of the ooze from which he sprang, a tale of desolations. He walks in his mind from birth to death the long resounding shores of endless disillusionment. Finally, the commitment to life departs or turns to bitterness. But out of such desolation emerges the awesome freedom to choose--to choose beyond the narrowly circumscribed circle that delimits the animal being. In that widening ring of human choice, chaos and order renew their symbolic struggle in the role of titans. They contend for a destiny of a world.

Loren Eiseley, The Star Thrower

One constant found in the entire population of human participants that help make up the game of Thoroughbred racing is that each of us remembers our first encounter with the Thoroughbred distinctly. Something akin to a chemical reaction took place in that moment when we first were admitted to the court of the True Kings, whether it was in the paddock, at the farm or on the backstretch.

When Eiseley wrote The Star Thrower, he was recalling an episode where he met a man on the beach in the early morning hours in Costabel. The man was walking the beach in search of still live star fish and throwing them back into the sea.

Those of us who have found a life with Thoroughbreds are like Eiseley's protagonist, working against the tide and the scavengers, trying to preserve what little is left of what is right with the universe, one starfish at a time.

There has been a lot written in recent times about how the breed has been destroyed, whether through the proliferation of race day medication, short-sighted breeding practices or the pursuit of commercial profit. Yet shining examples of what makes the Thoroughbred the noblest creature in existence take the stage every day at racecourses around the world.

And every time we lead one to their paddock or to the edge of the track and we feel their muscles tense at the impending release, our spirits commingle and we are reminded what it was that drew us into their world from the outset.