THE FATHER OF THE TURF IN TENNESSEE.
CHAPTER VI.
By John Trotwood Moore
“Uncle Berry,” continued Mr. Peyton, “I find, arrived in Tennessee in the month of February, 1806. In the spring of that year he made a match of mile heats, $500 a side, over the Hartsville course, with Henrietta against Cotton’s Cygnet, which he won.
“The old men of the neighborhood manifested great sympathy for the young stranger, and predicted that Lazarus Cotton would ruin him.
“This was his first race in Tennessee, and I witnessed his last, which was run over the Albion course at Gallatin, in 1862.
“Shortly after the race at Hartsville, Uncle Berry trained a famous quarter race mare called Sallie Friar, by Jolly Friar, and made a match for $500 a side, which was run on Goose Creek, near the Poison Knob. Sallie was the winner, and she was afterwards purchased by Patton Anderson, who ran her with great success.
“In the fall of 1806 Uncle Berry won with Post Boy the Jockey Club purse, three mile heats, at Gallatin, beating General Jackson’s Escape and others. Escape was the favorite, and the General and Mrs. Jackson, who were present, backed him freely. Before this race he sold Post Boy to Messrs. Richard and William L. Alexander for $1,000 in the event of his winning the race, after which he was withdrawn from the turf. Here he first met General Jackson and made a match with him on Henrietta against Bibb’s mare for $1,000 a side, two mile heats, equal weights, though the General’s mare was two years older than Henrietta, to come off in the spring of 1807 at Clover Bottom. The result proved that Uncle Berry underrated the horses and trainers of the Tennessee turf, as the General’s mare, a thoroughbred daughter of imported Diomed, won the race.
“The General, though deprived of the pleasure of being present on that interesting occasion (having been summoned as a witness in the trial of Aaron Burr at Richmond) showed that his heart was in the race, as appears from a letter to his friend, Patton Anderson, dated June 16, and published in Parton’s ‘Life of Jackson,’ from which I quote:
“‘At the race I hope you will see Mrs. Jackson; tell her not to be uneasy. I will be home as soon as my obedience to the precept of my country will permit. I have only to add as to the race, that the mare of Williams’ is thought here to be a first-rate animal of her size; but if she can be put up to it, she will fail in one heat. It will be then proper to put her up to all she knows at once.’
“This is Jacksonian. Not many men would take the responsibility of giving orders of how to run a race at the distance of five hundred miles. This error of underrating an adversary, especially such an adversary, was a heavy blow to Uncle Berry, from which he did not fully recover until he started Haynie’s Maria, mounted by Monkey Simon, against him.
“Not long after this defeat he set out to search for a horse with which to beat General Jackson, and purchased from General Wade Hampton, of South Carolina, a gelding called Omar, bringing him to Tennessee. After recruiting his horse at Captain Alexander’s, near Hartsville, he went to Nashville and offered General Jackson a match for $1,000 a side, three mile heats, according to rule. This the General declined, offering instead the same terms as to weight, as in the former race, in which he was allowed two years’ advantage, a proposition which, of course, was not accepted.
“Unable to get a race in Tennessee, Uncle Berry took his horse to Natchez, Miss., traveling through the swamps of the Chickasaw and Choctaw Nations, and entered him in a stake, three mile heats, $200 entrance; but his bad luck pursued him, and just before the race his horse snagged his foot, and he paid forfeit. He remained near Natchez twelve months and nursed his horse as no other man could have done, until he was perfectly restored to health and in condition for the approaching fall races of 1808. Writing to Col. George Elliott, he urged him to come to Natchez and bring fifteen or twenty horses to bet on Omar, and also to bring Monkey Simon to ride him, which Colonel Elliott did.
“Simon’s appearance on the field alarmed the trainer of the other horse, who had known him in South Carolina, and, suspecting that Omar was a bite, he paid forfeit.
“As Simon was a distinguished character, and made a conspicuous figure on the turf of Tennessee for many years, it may be well to give some account of him. His sobriquet of ‘Monkey Simon’ conveys a forcible idea of his appearance. He was a native African, and was brought with his parents when quite young to South Carolina, before the prohibition of the slave trade took effect. In height he was four feet six inches, and weighed one hundred pounds. He was a hunchback with very short body and remarkably long arms and legs. His color and hair were African, but his features were not. He had a long head and face, a high and delicate nose, a narrow but prominent forehead, and a mouth indicative of humor and firmness. It was rumored that Simon was a prince in his native country. I asked Uncle Berry the other day if he thought it was true. He replied, ‘I don’t know; they said so, and if the princes there had more sense than the rest he must have been one of ’em, for he was the smartest negro I ever saw.’ Colonel Elliott, speaking of Simon after his death, said he was the coolest, bravest, wisest rider he ever saw mount a horse, in which opinion Uncle Berry fully concurs.
“Simon was an inimitable banjo player and improvised his songs, making humorous hits at everybody; even General Jackson did not escape him. Indeed, no man was his superior in repartee.
“On one occasion Colonel Elliott and James Jackson, with a view to a match race for $1,000 a side, a dash on two miles, on Paddy Carey against Colonel Step’s mare, consented to lend Simon to ride this mare.
“Colonel Step not only gave Simon $100 in the race, but stimulated his pride by saying they thought they could win races without him, whereas he knew their success was owing to Simon’s riding. Somewhat offended at the idea of being lent out, and by no means indifferent to the money, Simon resolved to win the race, if possible; and nodding his head, said: ‘I’ll show ’em.’ The mare had the speed of Paddy and took the track, and Simon, by his consummate skill and by intimidating the other rider, managed to run him far out on the turns, while he rested his mare for a brush on the stretches.
“On reaching the last turn Simon found the mare pretty tired, and Paddy, a game four miler, locked with her, and he boldly swung out so far as to leave Paddy in the fence corner. The boy came up and attempted to pass on the inside, but Simon headed him off, and growled at him all the way down the quarter stretch, beating him out by a neck. Simon could come within a hair’s breadth of foul riding and yet escape the penalty. Colonel Elliott lost his temper, which he rarely did, and abused Simon, saying, ‘not satisfied with making Paddy run forty feet further than the mare on every turn, he must ride foul all the way down the quarter stretch.’
“The Colonel repeated these charges until at length Simon answered him with, ‘Well, Colonel Elliott (as he always called him), I’ve won many a race that way for you, and it is the first time I ever heard you object to it.’”

Much has been said and written of the tenderness and care bestowed by the Arabs on their favorite horses, but I doubt whether any Arabian since the time of the Prophet ever showed such devotion to his favorite steed as Uncle Berry to the thoroughbreds under his care. In fact, his kindly nature embraced all domestic animals. For many years he resided on a rich, productive farm near Gallatin, where he trained Betsy Malone, Sarah Bladen and many other distinguished race horses; raised fine stock and fine crops and proved himself to be one of the best farmers in the neighborhood. He had pets of all kinds—huge hogs that would come and sprawl themselves to be rubbed, and game chickens that would feed from his hand, and followed him if he left home on foot, often obliging him to return and shut them up.
He raised many celebrated racers for himself and others, and so judicious was his system that, at the age of two, they had almost the maturity of three-year-olds. His last thoroughbred was a chestnut filly, foaled in 1859, by Lexington, dam Sally Roper (the dam of Berry), which was entered in a stake for three-year-olds, $500 entrance, two mile heats, to come off over the Albion course, near Gallatin, in the fall of 1862. This filly was, of course, a great favorite with Uncle Berry. She never associated with any quadruped after she was weaned, her master being her only companion. At two years old she was large and muscular and very promising, and in the summer of 1861 I urged Uncle Berry to send her to the race course (where I had Fannie McAlister, dam of Muggins, and several other animals in training), that she might be gentled and broken to ride. His reply was: “I have been thinking of your kind offer—I know she ought to be broke, but, poor thing! she don’t know anything; she has never been anywhere, and has never even been mounted. I am afraid she will tear herself all to pieces.” But he finally consented for my colored trainer, Jack Richlieu, to take her to the track. On meeting Mrs. Williams a few days afterwards, I inquired for Uncle Berry. Her reply was: “He is well enough as to health, but he is mighty lonesome since the filly went away.”
But of all the horses he ever owned, Walk-in-the-Water was his especial favorite. In the language of Burns, he “lo’ed him like a vera brither.” He was a large chestnut gelding, foaled in 1813, by Sir Archie, dam by Gondola, a thoroughbred son of Mark Anthony, and these two were the only pure crosses in his pedigree, yet he was distinguished on the turf until fifteen years old, more especially in races of three and four mile heats.
I was present when Walk, at nineteen years of age, ran his last race, of four mile heats, over the Nashville course, against Polly Powell.
Uncle Berry, several years before, had presented him to Thomas Foxall, with a positive agreement that he would neither train nor run him again; having a two-year-old in training, Mr. Foxall took up the old horse merely to gallop in company with him, a few weeks before the Nashville meeting.
It became well known that the mare would start for the four mile purse, and she was so great a favorite that no one would enter against her.
The proprietor, to prevent a “walkover,” induced Foxall to allow him to announce Walk-in-the-Water, whose name would be sure to draw a crowd. There was a large attendance, and the game old horse made a wonderful race, considering his age, running a heat and evidently losing in consequence of his want of condition. When the horses were brought out I missed Uncle Berry, and went in search of him. I found him in the grove alone, sitting on a log and looking very sad. “Are you not going up to see old Walk run?” I inquired. “No, I would as soon see a fight between my grandfather and a boy of twenty,” he replied.
In the year 1827, when Walk was fourteen years old, Uncle Berry took him and several colts that were entered in stakes to Natchez, Miss., traveling by land through the terrible swamps of the Chickasaw and Choctaw Nations. The colts had made very satisfactory trial runs in Tennessee, but suffered so severely from the journey that they either paid forfeits or lost their stakes, so that Walk-in-the-Water was the only hope for winning expenses. He was entered in the four mile race of the Jockey Club, and his only competitor was the b. gelding Archie Blucher, fifteen years old, a horse of great fame as a “four miler” in Mississippi.
On the evening before the race the Jockey Club met and changed the rule, reducing the weight on all horses of fifteen years or upward to one hundred pounds, leaving all others their full weight, or one hundred and twenty-four pounds, three pounds less for mares and geldings.
This extraordinary proceeding would not have been tolerated by the gentlemen who, at a later day, composed that Club, but Uncle Berry protested in vain against the injustice done him. He, however, concluded to run Walk, giving his half brother twenty-one pounds advantage in weight. Walk had the speed of Blucher, and when the drum tapped, took the track, with Blucher at his side, and these two game Archies ran locked through the heat, Walk winning by half a length. The second heat was a repetition of the first, and never was a more tremendous struggle witnessed on a race course—a blanket would have covered the horses from the tap of the drum to the close of the race.
Any man who has watched a favorite horse winning a race, out of the fire and blue blazes at that, can appreciate Uncle Berry’s feelings during that terrible struggle. The horses swung into the quarter stretch, the eighth and last mile, and Uncle Berry, seeing the sorrel face of his old favorite ahead, cried out at the top of his voice, “Come home, Walk, come home! Your master wants money, and that badly.” After the race he expressed his opinion of the Club in no measured terms. Though habitually polite and respectful, particularly toward the authorities of a Jockey Club, he was a man of undaunted courage and ready to resist oppression, irrespective of consequences, but his friends interposed and persuaded him to let the matter pass.
When he reached the stables the horses were being prepared for their night’s rest, and he made them each an address. “Jo,” he said to a Pacolet colt, named Jo Doan, that had lost his stake in slow time, “you won’t do to tie to; I’ve always done a good part by you. I salted you out of my hand while you sucked your mammy; you know what you promised me before you left home (alluding to a trial run), and now you have thrown me off among strangers,” and he passed on, complaining of the other colts. The groom was washing old Walk-in-the-Water’s legs while he stood calm and majestic, with his game, intelligent head, large, brilliant eyes, inclined shoulders and immense windpipe, looking every inch a hero. When Uncle Berry came to him he threw his arms around his neck and said, bursting into tears, “Here’s a poor old man’s friend in a distant land.”
Walk-in-the-Water won more long races than any horse of his day. If I can procure the early volumes of the American Turf Register, I will in a future number give some account of his performances.
Haney’s Maria was a most extraordinary race nag at all distances, probably not inferior to any which has appeared in America since her day. She was bred by Bennet Goodrum, of Virginia, who moved to North Carolina, where she was foaled in the spring of 1808; from there he removed to Tennessee, and, in the fall of 1809, sold Maria to Capt. Jesse Haney, of Sumner County. She was by imported Diomed, one of the last of his get when thirty years of age. Her first dam was by Taylor’s Bel-Air (the best son of imported Medley), second dam by Symmes’ Wild Air, third dam by imported Othello, out of an imported mare.
She was a dark chestnut, exactly fifteen hands high, possessing great strength, muscular power, and symmetry, the perfect model of a race horse. Maria commenced her turf career at three, and ran all distances from a quarter of a mile to four mile heats, without losing a race or heat until she was nine years old. In the fall of 1811 she ran a sweepstake over the Nashville course, entrance $100, two mile heats, beating General Jackson’s colt, Decatur, by Truxton; Col. Robert Bell’s filly, by imported Diomed, and four others; all distanced the first heat, except Bell’s filly. This defeat aroused the fire and combative spirit of General Jackson almost as much as did his defeat by Mr. Adams for the Presidency, and he swore “by the Eternal” he would beat her if a horse could be found in the United States able to do so. But, although the General conquered the Indians, defeated Packenham, beat Adams and Clay, crushed the monster bank under the heel of his military boot, he could not beat Maria, in the hands of Uncle Berry.
In the fall of 1812, over the same course, she won a sweepstake, $500 entrance, four mile heats, beating Colonel Bell’s Diomed mare, a horse called Clifden, and Col. Ed Bradley’s “Dungannon.” (General Jackson was interested in Dungannon.) This was a most exciting and interesting race, especially to the ladies, who attended in great numbers; those of Davidson County, with Aunt Rachel Jackson and her niece, Miss Rachel Hays, at their head, backing Dungannon, while the Sumner County ladies, led by Miss Clarissa Bledsoe, daughter of the pioneer hero, Col. Anthony Bledsoe, bet their last glove on little Maria. After this second defeat, General Jackson became terribly in earnest, and before he gave up the effort to beat Maria, he ransacked Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia and Kentucky. He was almost as clamorous for a horse as was Richard in the battle of Bosworth Field. He first wrote Col. William R. Johnson to send him the best four mile horse in Virginia, without regard to price, expressing a preference for the famous Bel-Air mare, Old Favorite. Colonel Johnson sent him, at a high price, the celebrated horse, Pacolet, by imported Citizen, who had greatly distinguished himself as a four miler in Virginia. In the fall of 1813, at Nashville, Maria won a sweepstake, $1,000 entrance, $500 forfeit, four mile heats, beating Pacolet with great ease, two paying forfeit. It was said that Pacolet had received an injury in one of his fore ankles. The General, being anything but satisfied with the result, made a match on Pacolet against Maria for $1,000 a side, $500 forfeit, four mile heats, to come off over the same course, the fall of 1814; but, Pacolet being still lame, he paid forfeit. These repeated failures only made the General more inflexible in his purpose, and, in conjunction with Mr. James Jackson, who then resided in the vicinity of Nashville, he sent to South Carolina and bought Tam O’Shanter, a horse distinguished in that state.
The fall of 1814 Maria won, over the same course, club purse of $275, two mile heats, beating Tam O’Shanter, William Lytle’s Royalist, and two or three others.
A few days after, over the same course, she won a proprietor’s purse, $350, only one starting against her. About this time General Jackson sent to Georgia and purchased of Colonel Alston Stump-the-Dealer, but, for some cause, did not match him against Maria. The General then sent to Kentucky and induced Mr. DeWett to come to the Hermitage with his mare (reputed to be the swiftest mile nag in the United States), with a view of matching her against Maria. Mr. DeWett trained his mare at the Hermitage. In the fall of 1814, at Clover Bottom, Maria beat this mare for $1,000 a side, dash of a mile. In the fall of 1815 General Jackson and Mr. DeWett ran the same mare against Maria, dash of half a mile, for $1,500 a side, $500 on the first quarter, $500 on six hundred yards, and $500 on the half mile, all of which bets were won by Maria, the last by one hundred feet. This was run at Nashville. The next week, over same course, she won a match $1,000 a side, mile heats, made with General Jackson and Col. Ed Ward, beating the Colonel’s horse, Western Light. Soon after this race she was again matched against her old competitor, DeWett’s mare, for $1,000 a side, over the same course (which was in McNairy’s Bottom, above the sulphur spring), Maria giving her a distance (which was then 120 yards) in a dash of two miles. Colonel Lynch, of Virginia, had been induced to come and bring his famous colored rider, Dick, to ride DeWett’s mare. Before the last start Uncle Berry directed his rider (also colored) to put the spurs to Maria from the tap of the drum. But, to his amazement, they went off at a moderate gait, DeWett’s mare in the lead, making the first mile in exactly two minutes. As they passed the stand Uncle Berry ordered his boy to go on, but the mares continued at the same rate until after they entered the back stretch, Maria still a little in the rear, when the rider gave her the spurs and she beat her competitor one hundred and eighty yards, making the last mile in one minute and forty-eight seconds. All who saw the race declared that she made the most extraordinary display of speed they ever witnessed.
When Uncle Berry demanded an explanation of his rider he learned that Dick, who professed to be a conjurer, or spiritualist, had frightened the boy by threatening that if he attempted to pass ahead of him until they ran a mile and a quarter, he would lift him out of his saddle, or throw down his mare by a mere motion of his whip, which the boy fully believed. Most negroes at that time, and some white people in this enlightened age, believe in these absurdities. The speed of Maria was wonderful. She and the famous quarter race horse, Saltram, were trained by Uncle Berry at the same time, and he often “brushed” them through the quarter stretch, “and they always came out locked.” Whichever one got the start kept the lead.
After the last race above mentioned, some Virginians present said that there were horses in Virginia that could beat Maria. Captain Haney offered to match her against any horse in the world, from one to four mile heats, for $5,000.
Shortly after this conversation, meeting General Jackson, Captain Haney informed him what had passed, and the General, in his impressive manner, replied: “Make the race for $50,000, and consider me in with you. She can beat any animal in God’s whole creation.”
In March, 1816, at Lexington, Ky., she beat Robin Gray (sire of Lexington’s third dam) a match, mile heats, for $1,000 a side. The next month she beat at Cage’s race paths in Sumner County, near Bender’s Ferry, Mr. John Childress’ Woodlawn filly, by Truxton, a straight half mile for $1,000 a side, giving her sixty feet. Maria won this race by two feet only. This was the first race I ever saw, and I was greatly impressed with the beautiful riding of Monkey Simon.
After the race Maria was taken by Uncle Berry to Waynesboro, Ga., where she bantered the world, but could not get a race. There were very few jockey clubs in the country at that time.
In January, 1817, Maria was returned to Captain Haney in Sumner County, and soon afterwards sold by him to Pollard Brown, who got her beaten at Charleston in a four mile heat race with Transport and Little John, when she was nine years old. Maria carried over weight, ran under many disadvantages, and lost the race by only a few feet.
(Continued in next issue.)