Dr William Key and his horse Beautiful Jim Key

Beautiful Jim Key was a famous performing horse around the turn of the twentieth century. His trainer, "Dr." William Key, was a former slave, a self-trained veterinarian, and a patent medicine salesman. Key emphasized that he used only patience and kindness in teaching the horse, and never a whip. Beautiful Jim Key and his trainer periodically toured the United States in a special railroad car to promote the fledgling cause of the humane treatment of animals.

From the Book Beautiful Jim Key: The Lost History of a Horse and a Man Who Changed the World By Mim E. Rivas



Pages 34 to 36

"Knowing he was the finest bred horse in the country, I was very anxious to see what he would turn out," Doc Key told Rogers, recalling his ambitious visions of owning a famous, noble racehorse. "I had some very fine Bible names picked out for him." And why not? Rogers was shocked to hear the Doc say that the foal he had planned to name for a revered prophet or disciple "pretty damn near broke my heart." The foaling apparently proceeded normally, starting with the incomparable, overpowering smell of equine amniotic fluid, which summoned the Doc and his stable hands to Lauretta's stall at night—often a dam's instinctual time for avoiding predators by giving birth under the blanket of darkness. Lauretta frantically paced, then lay down, her whinnying crescendoing with the night-splitting universal cry of a female in hard labor while Key coaxed her with his indecipherable, whispered words—a self-created language based on the practices of his African and Cherokee ancestors. As the foal emerged in its white sack, he was there to help the weakened Lauretta by tenderly clearing the white cloak off the foal. In answer to his prayers, he at first rejoiced in seeing that the foal was a male. As close to a son of his own as he would have in this life.

But as he continued to examine the colt, Bill Key saw that he was as misshapen and bony as any sickly foal could be. Neither Lauretta nor the foal improved over the next twenty-four hours. The dam, in fact, was to deteriorate dramatically over the next eight months, the ordeal of procreation having depleted whatever reserve of health Doc Key had helped her regain before breeding her. From the beginning of the colt's life, it was obvious that his dam's ability to care for him and guide him into his journey as a young equine was to be impaired. His first efforts to stand and walk were not unlike most foals'—with bent, splayed legs teetering up only to slide down, then hunkering up and flailing into an attempt at balance, only to wobble from side to side, making scant progress at forward motion. That was normal, sometimes for the first hours or day of life, even for a day or two longer, before most foals—some with maternal nudging—find the natural dance of movement that is part of their genetic gift, and are soon galloping with finesse. But after weeks, Lauretta's colt could barely walk or run. The Doc kept hoping he'd improve as the days went by. "For almost a year I had no hope for him. He was the most spindled, shank-legged animal I ever did see." His coat was a dingy, tufted brown—not even a hint of dark bay—and he appeared to be in a pain so severe from an unidentifiable infection or injury that the grooms working for Doc Key begged him to shoot the foal and put him out of his misery. "I made up my mind to kill him," Key said to Rogers, a statement made for the sake of his dramatic narrative, since it was impossible for anyone who knew Bill Key just in passing to imagine him committing such an act, even if committed in mercy. Despite his supposed intention, he focused his energies instead almost exclusively on saving Lauretta's life and easing her colt's ailments, hoping and praying that Keystone Liniment and his other remedies would provide the solution. Doc Key was sure the foal wasn't going to make it, but not giving up, as he confirmed to Rogers, "I took mighty fine care of him." Yet his disappointment was so pronounced that instead of the biblical name he had planned to bestow on the stallion that he had once imagined being immortalized on the turf, he refused to give the misfit the name he'd chosen. "It would have been blasphemy."

Searching for a name that would fit, after watching the colt attempt to walk, he had an encounter with a Mr. Jim Hunter, a bow-legged, no-account drunk who wandered by his stables on occasion. "If this raggle-taggle, trashy man had attempted to walk through a wheat field, he would have ruined it." As though to mock his own audacity, perhaps having in his own mind, as Tennesseans like to say, "gotten above his raisin'," Bill Key named his raggle-taggle horse Jim. But just in case Jim understood and took it as a lack of kindness, he gave the unpromising young Arabian-Hambletonian his own last name. Jim Key was a member of Bill's family now, but still a long ways front being beautiful.

Mim Eichler Rivas




Beautiful Jim Key's Arabian GGG Grandfather, Hambletonian



More from the Book

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http://www.smithdray1.net/bjk/drwilliamkey.htm

Dr. William Key (Bill) was born a slave in 1833 in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Captain John Key was his master. Upon the Captain’s death when Bill was five years old, he willed a certain family of slaves including William to his cousin, John W. Key of Shelbyville, Tennessee. Bill demonstrated a special way with animals as early as six years of age. He also was a great help to the John W. Key family when it was observed that the disabled father of John W. Key was much calmer when Bill was around. However, the place where he really shined was around horses. He was so effective with horses that he was soon being sent to the pasture alone to train the horses.