The Nearco Story .....Galileo/Montjeu/Oasis Dream/Dansili/Cape Cross

Nearco (Pharos-Nogara, Havresac II) was born on Jan. 24, 1935, at the
Dormello Stud on the shores of Lake Maggiore, 40 miles north of Milan,
Italy, at the foot of the Italian Alps.
He was bred by famed Italian race
horse breeding theorist Frederico Tesio, who had planned for his arrival
since the  purchase of Nearco's granddam, a mediocre race horse named
Catnip.
The dark bay colt quickly proved himself worthy of Tesio's plans
and predictions. He went to the post 13 times as a 2- and 3-year-old and
was undefeated, usually winning with ease.

If Nearco had a problem, it was his difficult temperament. He was a loner,
suspicious of strangers, and abhorred being groomed or otherwise touched or
handled.

In 1938, in Fascist Italy before World War II, Tesio had to receive
permission to race his horse outside of Italy. He received permission from
Benito Mussolini himself to run in France's Grand Prix de Paris at
Longchamp race course. Though Tesio's motivation was simply to prove his
horse equally capable against international company, the race soon became
something of an international incident.

The big, black colt seemed to the nervous French people to represent
the black heart of Fascism itself. They booed and hissed when he strode
onto the course, while the applause for his French rivals was nearly
deafening. The hometown advantage didn't help them, though, as Nearco
smoked to a 11Ž2-length victory, a victory exacer-bated when Nearco's
Italian jockey smartly gave the Fascist salute as he paraded to the
winner's circle.

Four days later he was purchased by British bookmaker Martin Benson for
60,000 pounds. Nearco would never return to the shores of his native Italy,
and he never raced again.

He went to live at Beech House Stud on the outskirts of Newmarket. It
quickly became apparent that his temperament, which had been difficult as a
race horse, was nearly impossible as a stud horse. He hated everyone and
was widely regarded as dangerous, going through 10 stud grooms in as many
months.

In despair, his owner called in vet-eran stud groom Ernest "Ernie" Lee,
well-known as a handler of difficult stallions and operated under a
philosophy of not pushing them, simply letting them do what they liked.
Many doubted even Ernie's magic would work on Nearco. But, within a few
weeks, Lee and the Italian colt were an inseparable pair. He allowed Lee to
groom and walk him and never acted up so long as Lee was within sight. But
if Lee wasn't around, Nearco was unapproachable, even to feed.

Nevertheless, his dance card was always full at Beech House, and the tales
of the black stallion's temper never seemed to put off mare owners.

"Old Ernie had a way with Nearco," said Michael McFarling, a former stud
groom at Beech House in Reeves and Robinson's Classic Lines. "They thought
the world of each other. When it was time for Nearco to go to the breeding
shed, Ernie would lead him around on a loose lead singing to him in a
French accent, 'Thank heaven for little girls. . .' But it was dangerous
for anyone to get near him without Ernie."

At the beginning of World War II, as London children were shipped to the
countryside to escape the German blitzkrieg, Nearco and Lee went to live in
the south of Wales, where the valuable stallion could be kept safe. But
there was no truly safe place in England, and the pair returned to Beech
House, where a paddock with a specially constructed cement underground bomb
shelter had been erected for Nearco. Lee trained Nearco to walk underground
at the first wail of the air raid siren, and then wait quietly with Lee
until the "all clear" was given.

By the summer of 1957, the once-ferocious black stallion was ailing,
plagued by a cancerous hip that made getting up and down difficult and a
failing digestive tract that left him nearly unable to eat. Lee created a
special mash of hay and grain that he hand fed to Nearco for several
months, but on June 7 Nearco was unable to stand on his own. Once they got
him to his feet, Lee walked him to the nearby Equine Research Station and
Nearco was humanely destroyed at age 22.

Lee was devastated by the loss of his friend, and he walked away from his
job that day. He never worked with horses again.
By Heather Bailey