Tranquility Farm's Way With Horses
by Priscilla Clark
Vol Au Vent
No one in my family can remember a
Christmas when I did not fervently ask Santa
for a horse. First; a pony, and then, as I grew and became a devotee of all things equestrian; a horse.
When my phone rang two days before Christmas in 1996, during one of the worst El Nino downpours northern California could inflict on horsemen, an earnest voice asked me if I was the woman who helped Thoroughbred horses. I replied that I was, and she asked me if I could help her save the lives of two homeless aged broodmares. It was a familiar story, one I had heard countless times over the last decade: a farm in failure, the unwanted horses about to be abandoned. Like so many others, I told her that I would.
On Christmas Eve, well after windy darkness had fallen, the trailer arrived at my tiny rain-soaked farm. Having few stalls, there was really no place to put my unexpected guests. The best option, it seemed, was to evict my least injured racehorse out into a small paddock with a good blanket. He was young and healthy, and one look at the two muddy waifs in the trailer made my decision. They would have to share a partitioned foaling stall; there was no- where else to put them, but it was clear they wouldn't last many more days in the freezing rain.
The woman who had rescued the shivering wretches before me said simply, “These were very good mares”. She handed me an envelope that I crumpled wetly into the pocket of my slicker as she thanked me and pulled away. Later, I would care who had just entered my growing herd of unwanted Thoroughbreds, but for now, getting the exhausted mares dry and comfortable was my only concern. As I rubbed their bony backs with towels one of the mares turned and looked at me with a proud and kindly eye. “God loves a fool”, I whispered, mostly to myself.
A week passed before I remembered the papers in my slicker pocket. The weather was relentless and needs of the horses took every minute of my day. As I unfolded the contents of the envelope I was stunned to read that in my humble barn was Victorian Heiress, daughter from the first crop of the great Northern Dancer, her own mother Victorianna, a reine de course. Victorian Heiress was the dam of Canadian Champion filly Northern Blossom, Italian Champion Miler Jape; and the second dam of three good stakes horses and sires; Sharp Victor, Flying Victor, and Vying Victor. When the calendar turned the next morning she would be 29 years old. Miraculously, this royal mare seemed to be gaining strength every day.
Her entry mate was Vol Au Vent, and her life was a shining example of the strength and durability of the breed. As a racemare she had won or placed in 14 of her 25 starts; her winnings included two stakes races, and $105,000 in the early 1970's. Since that time she had successfully mothered 14 foals, including the dam of CA Champion Embroidered. Somehow she had lost the support of the many people who had profited from her long career as a runner and a broodmare. At age 25 she found herself abandoned and alone.
As the two mares grew in strength and condition my resolve to fight the injustice that had come upon them grew with them. Their life stories touched me like no others before them, although among the unwanted horses in my care were many geldings that had won prestigious races. There was a fire in the heart of these great old mares that I could not let die, as if restoring their dignity could in a small way keep faith with the great breeders of the past who had bequeathed such treasures to an unappreciative generation.
On a snowy morning in March of 1998, two regal dowagers descended from a van and were among the first of the hundreds of horses that have since walked through the gates of Tranquility Farm. Victorian Heiress and Vol Au Vent walked confidently through the snow into what would be their home for life. Their story had helped to fuel the mandate felt by Thoroughbred lovers everywhere to find a way to collectively cherish the famous and worthy in age, and to create a secure future for the young and vulnerable. Finally, a farm had been created for this purpose alone.
Victorian Heiress passed away quietly on Breeders' Cup day of 2001, at the age of 33. She is buried at Tranquility Farm. Vol Au Vent, now 31, spends her days in a green pasture with other aged mares, and sleeps through winter storms in a comfortable stall. She and her friends, all producers of fine racehorses, will have a safe home to the end of their days.
And so, in an unimaginable way, after half a century, on that dreary Christmas Eve when Victorian Heiress and Vol Au Vent came into my life, my first and only Christmas wish came true.