In the chap­ter titled “Race Week” from “The Demon of Unrest,” we delve into a vibrant yet tumul­tuous peri­od in Charleston, timed with the social spec­ta­cle of Race Week. Gov­er­nor Pick­ens, look­ing to avoid con­flict with Fort Sumter, embraced the occa­sion as ordi­nary life halted—schools, courts, and many busi­ness­es closed. Wit­ness­es not­ed that Charleston was abuzz with dis­cus­sions about hors­es, as breed­ers and spec­ta­tors flocked from around the South and even as far as New York, arriv­ing on char­tered ves­sels.

This week was marked by lav­ish dances and ban­quets attend­ed by planters, who brought along their fam­i­lies and enslaved ser­vants, sell­ing or acquir­ing more slaves between races. The pres­ence of slaves extend­ed to the jock­eys and train­ers, reflect­ing the deep-root­ed social hier­ar­chy. The stakes went beyond mere rac­ing; as artic­u­lat­ed by a biog­ra­ph­er of the South Car­oli­na Jock­ey Club, hors­es rep­re­sent­ed Car­oli­na’s chival­ry and hon­or, with suc­cess­ful planters equat­ing their vic­to­ries to per­son­al val­or and soci­etal pres­tige.

Amidst the fes­tiv­i­ties, key fig­ures in agri­cul­ture sought to solid­i­fy their sta­tus. James Hen­ry Ham­mond, aim­ing for elite recog­ni­tion, invest­ed heav­i­ly in a thor­ough­bred named Argyle—a deci­sion that demon­strat­ed the horse’s sig­nif­i­cance as a tick­et to social stand­ing and net­work­ing oppor­tu­ni­ties dur­ing the week’s slate of events, par­tic­u­lar­ly the renowned Jock­ey Club Ball.

The ball, a pin­na­cle social event, was exclu­sive to high-class atten­dees, where match­mak­ing was com­mon­place. How­ev­er, some for­eign observers, like Mar­garet Hunter Hall, crit­i­cized the atten­dees’ appear­ances, find­ing the gen­tle­men lack­lus­ter and the women unat­trac­tive.

Yet, all eyes were ulti­mate­ly on the Jock­ey Club Purse race, a main attrac­tion of Race Week on Feb­ru­ary 6, 1861. Albine, a horse ini­tial­ly deemed a poor invest­ment, tri­umphed against Plan­et under the guid­ance of Her­cules, an enslaved expert train­er hired by Albine’s own­er, Jack Cantey. The race cul­mi­nat­ed in record-break­ing times and cel­e­bra­to­ry gath­er­ings. Unbe­knownst to the atten­dees, this marked Charleston’s final Race Week for almost twen­ty years, over­shad­ow­ing the fes­tiv­i­ties with the loom­ing uncer­tain­ties of the Civ­il War.