Toumei – The “Mouse” Mare Who Conquered Japan

In the history of Japanese horse racing, a few mares stand out as legends: early pioneers like Miss Onward and Miss Homare, and later stars such as Air Groove and Gentildonna. But long before that golden age of champion mares, there was a tiny black filly from Hokkaido who rewrote what people thought a female racehorse could do.

Her name was Toumei (トウメイ), a 1966 black mare by Cipriani out of Toshimanna, bred at Tanioka Farm in Shizunai, Hokkaido. She was small, plain, and so unimpressive that people at the stable called her “the mouse.” Yet in 1971 she won both the Tenno Sho (Autumn, 3,200m at Tokyo) and the Arima Kinen (Grand Prix, 2,500m at Nakayama), defeating the best colts and older horses in the country. That season she was voted Japan’s Horse of the Year, the first mare ever to receive that honor.

For modern fans, especially those discovering Japanese racing through anime or international broadcasts, Toumei’s story reads almost like a fable: the unwanted filly who became a national champion, then returned as a broodmare to watch her own son win the same Tenno Sho she had conquered years before. But behind the fairy tale is a very real, very tough racehorse who ran 31 times, won 16 races, and never once finished out of the money.

Humble beginnings: a small filly from a great but “side” family

Toumei was born on May 17, 1966 at Tanioka Farm in Shizunai, Hokkaido. Her sire Cipriani was a stallion by Never Say Die, part of a male line that would later become very fashionable in Japan. At the time, however, Cipriani was still relatively unknown. Her dam Toshimanna, by Meiji Hikari, had raced once in local competition and finished unplaced. On paper, Toumei belonged to a distinguished female family: her ancestress Manna (racing name Robin O) had won the 1932 Teishitsu Goshoten (Emperor’s Cup, the forerunner of today’s Tenno Sho) at Hanshin, and the same line later produced classic winners such as Kumono Hana. But Toshimanna herself was considered a “side branch” of this famous family, without any recent top-class performers.

Physically, Toumei started life with some promise. As a foal she was small but nicely balanced, with a soft, elastic walk that reflected her sire’s good muscle quality. Then, somewhere along the way, her growth simply stopped. While other youngsters in the paddock filled out, she remained light-framed, almost skinny. Breeders and horsemen who saw her later described her as looking like a “mouse” – narrow, dark, and not at all like a future champion.

Tanioka Farm tried to sell her privately, even offering her in a package deal together with other horses. No one wanted her. Eventually, in the autumn of 1967, Toumei was sent to a public sale. There, trainer Kiyoshi Takagi from Ohi Racecourse in Tokyo bought her for ¥1.65 million, at a time when the average price at that sale was around ¥3 million. In other words, she was a clear “discount” purchase – roughly half the going rate, perhaps equivalent to tens of millions of yen in today’s value, but still cheap by racehorse standards.

An unwanted trainee: no groom, no stall, no expectations

After the sale, Toumei was moved to Fujisawa Farm near Tomakomai for early training. The plan was simple: educate her there, then send her to Takagi’s stable at Ohi for a career in regional racing. But before that could happen, Takagi suddenly died of pancreatic cancer. His death left Toumei in limbo, with no clear destination.

Around this time, her future owner entered the story. The man was Katsuo Kondo, who ran a chain of pachinko parlors in Sapporo. He took over ownership of the filly and tried to find a trainer willing to accept her into a JRA stable. It was not easy. Her frame was so light, her coat so dull, that many trainers refused. In the end, in the spring of 1968, trainer Shigeji Shimizu at Hanshin accepted her almost out of a sense of duty – he had been the one who had recommended buying her at the sale.

Even inside the stable, Toumei did not immediately find a place. No groom wanted to take charge of the strange, underdeveloped filly who kicked at other horses and did not trust people. For a while, Shimizu’s assistant – his own younger brother – looked after her in between other tasks. When the stable temporarily moved to Sapporo, she spent her days tied in an open space beside the barn, brought indoors only at night. She was, in every sense, a nobody: a little black mare with no supporter, no status, and no great expectations.

Shimizu even tried to send her to local racing. He offered to pay Kondo back ¥3 million – covering her training expenses and a little extra – and move her to a regional circuit where expectations would be lower. No regional trainer agreed to take her. The deal collapsed, and Toumei remained in Shimizu’s barn because there was literally nowhere else for her to go.

First steps: from “small mouse” to classic contender

On August 30, 1968, Toumei finally made her debut in a maiden race at Sapporo. She went off as the sixth favorite in an eight-horse field – a clear sign that the betting public shared the professionals’ low opinion of her. Yet she ran bravely and finished second. Two weeks later, running back on short rest in another maiden, she won. That victory changed everything. Kondo, Shimizu, and the stable staff started to see her with new eyes. She was still small and plain, but now there was something else: a powerful closing kick and a will to chase down whatever was in front of her.

Back at Ritto Training Center, Toumei progressed quickly. Between October and December she put together a three-race winning streak, proving that her Sapporo form had been no fluke. By the end of her two-year-old season (under the old Japanese age system), she was regarded as the top filly in western Japan.

In March 1969 she captured the Kyoto 4-Year-Old Special (roughly equivalent to a modern graded stakes for three-year-olds), her first stakes victory over 1,600m on turf. That win stamped her as a serious classic candidate, and she was sent to the Oka Sho (Japanese 1000 Guineas, 1,600m at Hanshin) as the race favorite.

In the Oka Sho, Toumei settled in fifth, just behind the leaders, waiting for her chance. Turning for home she moved up smoothly and briefly struck the front, the small black mare suddenly looming larger than life on the big stage. But in the final strides, the well-bred filly Hide Kotobuki unleashed a sharp late burst and caught her right before the line. Toumei had to settle for second.

In the Yushun Himba (Japanese Oaks, 2,400m at Tokyo) a month later, she again ran bravely but not quite bravely enough. She turned for home in striking range, slowly wore down the front-runner Light Parley, but in the last 100 meters another challenger, Shadai Turk, came flying and snatched the win. Toumei finished third, beaten only a neck and a nose. Twice in a row, she had run like a champion, only to be denied in the final yards.

By the end of her three-year-old campaign (modern age three), Toumei’s record stood at an impressive 7 wins, 6 seconds, 2 thirds, and 2 fourths. She had already earned more than enough to justify Kondo’s gamble. Many owners would have been content to retire such a small mare at that point and send her to the breeding shed. But Toumei’s real story was only beginning.

Injury, doubt, and an eight-month silence

As a four-year-old (modern age four), Toumei moved into open company. In March 1970 she won an open race, then followed up with victory in the Milers Cup (Yomiuri Milers Cup, 1,600m at Hanshin). She then finished second in the Hankyu Hai, another important sprint–miler race.

After the Hankyu Hai, however, disaster struck. Toumei was diagnosed with a serious problem in her right hind foot – a kind of white line disease known as hakusen-retsu. The vets estimated that she would need more than six months away from racing.

From the outside, the decision to rest her looked questionable. Here was a mare weighing just over 400kg, already a stakes winner against top-class males. Some fans and journalists argued that she had already earned more than expected for a cheaply bought mare and that any further campaigning was simply greed. Why risk her soundness?

Trainer Masayuki Sakata, who took over her care after Shigeji Shimizu’s death, saw it differently. He believed that Toumei had more to give – that if she could be brought back sound, she could compete at the very highest level. So the team chose patience. For eight months, the little mare disappeared from the racetrack, nursing her injured hoof and quietly building the strength she would need for the greatest season of her life.

1971: the “miler” stretches out

Toumei returned to racing in January 1971. It took her four runs to get back to the winner’s circle, but once she did, the old rhythm returned. She won an open class race, then in April defended her title in the Milers Cup, this time defeating the reigning Kikka Sho (Japanese St Leger) winner Date Tenryu. A “mere” miler was not supposed to beat a 3,000m classic winner so easily over 1,600m, but Toumei did.

Two months later she met another stiff test in the Hankyu Hai, now over 1,900m. There she carried a crushing top weight of 58kg – enormous for a small-bodied mare – and still won. For Sakata, that was the turning point. If this fragile-looking “mouse” could carry 58kg over 1,900m and finish strongest, perhaps she could stay much further.

In October, the stable decided on a bold plan: send Toumei to Tokyo for a series of major races. First came the Himba Tokyo Times Hai, a 1,600m handicap race for fillies and mares. The handicapper showed exactly how highly he rated her: she was assigned 59kg, while the next-highest-weighted mares, including Nasuno Kaori and Pearl Fontaine, carried only 54kg.

The race was run on a heavy track. Most horses hugged the inside rail, seeking the shortest way home through the tiring ground. Toumei’s jockey, Eiji Shimizu (no relation to her first trainer), chose the opposite path. He guided her calmly to the outside, let her relax, and then “stroked” her around the turn as if she were running in slow motion. She won by 1½ lengths without ever being fully asked. In the press room after the race, one clocker famously described the performance as “Toumei nine-tenths, just breezing.” It was the kind of effortless victory that made professionals raise their eyebrows and re-check their notebooks.

Just a month later, on November 28, Toumei stepped up in distance by double for the Tenno Sho (Autumn) – then a gruelling 3,200m turf race at Tokyo, one of the eight “big races” that formed the highest level of Japanese racing before the modern GI system. Many believed that asking a “mile specialist” to run two miles against classic winners was madness.

The 1971 Tenno Sho (Autumn): two miles in two acts

The 1971 Tenno Sho (Autumn) brought together a powerful field that included Akane Tenryu, winner of the Kikka Sho and one of the best stayers in the country, and Daishin Boldguard, a Tokyo Yushun (Japanese Derby) winner. Toumei was sent off as the third favorite, respected but not fully trusted by most fans to stay the full 3,200m.

Shimizu’s race plan was simple. Later he would explain that he had decided to ride the Tenno Sho as if it were “two 1,600m races back-to-back.” In the first mile, he would let Toumei settle, breathe, and do nothing more than gallop within herself. In the second mile, he would ride the race on its merits.

Breaking from the gate, Toumei quickly took up a mid-pack position, a few horses off the rail. Shimizu kept her in clear air, away from traffic, avoiding any stop-and-go movements that might break her rhythm. The field completed one circuit of the track, passed the stands, and headed out for the second lap. Still Shimizu sat quietly, hands low, letting the others make their moves.

After 2,000m the race finally began in earnest. Stamina-type colts started to wind up from behind; front-runners began to feel the strain. Shimizu eased Toumei off the rail, giving her a straight line of sight to the leaders. Coming into the long Tokyo stretch, he finally asked her to quicken.

The little black mare responded instantly. Moving down the center of the track, she lengthened her stride and began gobbling up the ground. The Derby winner and the St Leger colt fought on, but with every stride Toumei’s tacky, relentless finish drew her closer. In the final 200 meters she swept past them, taking the lead and holding it to the line to become that year’s Tenno Sho (Autumn) winner. Her winning time was 3:23.7, and at just 428kg she remains one of the lightest Tenno Sho winners in history.

For many observers, that was the day Toumei stopped being “the mouse” and became something else: an all-rounder, a mare with the courage and constitution to handle any distance, any race, any track condition.

The 1971 Arima Kinen: flu, chaos, and a six-horse Grand Prix

After the Tenno Sho, there was one obvious target left in the season: the Arima Kinen (Grand Prix), held at Nakayama over 2,500m in late December. It is an all-star race, with most of the field selected by fan vote. Toumei’s form and story captured the public imagination, and she duly took her place in the line-up.

Then, on the very day of the race, disaster struck Japanese racing. An outbreak of equine influenza began to reveal itself in the racecourse stables. Horses developed fevers one after another. In total, more than twenty horses were scratched from the day’s card due to illness, including major Arima Kinen contenders such as Mejiro Asama and Akane Tenryu. The Grand Prix, which should have been a packed, glittering finale to the season, shrank to a field of just six runners – the smallest in Arima Kinen history.

Toumei was one of the lucky ones. Because she had been stabled at an off-course training facility for traveling horses, she had avoided contact with the infected barns. Some people would later say she won the Grand Prix thanks to “luck.” Trainer Sakata, and many others who watched her that autumn, disagreed. They believed that even if the full, original field had stood their ground, no horse in Japan could have stopped her that day.

In the Arima Kinen itself, Toumei dropped out to her familiar position near the rear of the field. The early pace was honest but not suicidal. As the runners went past the stands and into the backstretch, she sat quietly, her small frame almost hidden behind the larger bodies of the colts in front of her.

Approaching the final turn, Shimizu guided her to the outside – the same wide, clear path that had worked so well in the Tokyo Times Hai and the Tenno Sho. There, on the outside, with nothing to block her view, he finally shook the reins.

Toumei surged forward, sweeping past rivals one by one. At the top of the short Nakayama straight, she ranged up alongside the foreign-bred colt Continental, who had taken the lead. For a moment they ran as one, two dark shapes driving through the winter air. Then Toumei found just a little more. Her stride deepened, her neck stretched, and she drew away to win by about 1½ lengths. She had taken the Tenno Sho and the Arima Kinen in the same season – something no mare had achieved since Garnet more than a decade earlier.

In the weeks that followed, the influenza outbreak worsened, forcing the cancellation of racing in the Kanto region at the start of the new year. In the shadow of that crisis, the scale of Toumei’s achievement was almost forgotten. But voters did not forget. At the end of the year she was crowned Horse of the Year and Best Older Mare by the major racing awards – the first mare ever to receive the top national title.

Her career earnings eventually totaled around ¥150,000,000, at the time the highest sum ever earned by a mare in Japanese racing – roughly equivalent to several hundred million yen in today’s money.

31 races, never off the board

Toumei’s final record is one of the most remarkable in Japanese racing: 31 starts, 16 wins, and she was never once out of the top four. In Japanese racing jargon, she “never missed the board” – something even great horses like Deep Impact or Symboli Rudolf could not claim.

She achieved this not as a lightly raced modern star protected by careful campaigns, but as a hard-knocking mare who ran often and carried big weights. She raced primarily in central Japan under JRA rules, never went abroad, and faced the best colts and older horses of her era repeatedly. Her trainer and jockeys often noted that she was difficult to handle and that she sometimes sulked if hit with the whip; she was a horse who responded better to rhythm and trust than to force.

Perhaps the most striking image left by contemporary journalists is her gaze. One writer recalled peeking into her stall one evening and finding her staring back at him, absolutely motionless, eyes burning with what he described as “a mixture of resentment, willpower, and something like a curse.” It was, he wrote, “not the eye of a horse, but the eye of a being who had decided never again to let others decide her fate.” That may be poetic exaggeration – but standing behind the poetry is a simple fact: in an era when mares were expected to be fragile and inconsistent, Toumei was neither.

From champion mare to Tenno Sho-winning dam

After the Arima Kinen, there were plans to give Toumei one final race in western Japan and hold a retirement ceremony at her home track. The influenza crisis made that impossible. Racing was suspended; travel between regions was heavily restricted. By the time things returned to normal, the decision had been made: the Arima Kinen would be Toumei’s last race.

She was supposed to retire as a broodmare at Kondo’s Makubetsu Farm in Hokkaido, a private farm set up specifically to house his mares. But even here, the influenza crisis intervened. Because of quarantine restrictions and breeding complications, Toumei instead spent her early broodmare years back at Fujisawa Farm, the same place that had helped raise her as a young horse. From 1972 to 1978 she lived and bred there, before finally moving to Makubetsu in 1979.

In total, Toumei produced 14 foals. Her most famous offspring was the colt Tenmei, by the stallion Luiz Dale. In 1978, he won the Tenno Sho (Spring, 3,200m at Kyoto), making Toumei and Tenmei the first mother–son pair to both win the Tenno Sho. It was a perfect circle: seven years after she had shocked the racing world in the autumn Tenno Sho, her son came charging down the long Kyoto straight to claim his own emperor’s prize.

Another of her foals, Hokumei, won races in central Japan before moving to the Hokkaido regional circuit, where he captured the Doei Kinen and other local stakes. Breeders who worked with her offspring noted that, like their dam, many of them were small in body and fiery in temperament – living proof that the tiny “mouse” mare passed on more than just a famous race record.

Toumei’s female line also continues to this day. The descendants of her eighth foal, a mare named Toun, produced the colt Nick Banyan, who won the Haneda Hai on the Ohi circuit in 2008. Through such descendants, her blood quietly threads its way through modern Japanese pedigrees.

A long, quiet old age

Unlike many champions whose lives end in accident or illness not long after retirement, Toumei enjoyed a remarkably long and peaceful old age. At Makubetsu Farm, farm manager Isamu Doi later recalled that she was a tough, healthy mare who almost never needed a veterinarian. Her internal organs and teeth remained strong well into her late years, and for most of her life she ate her feed with relish.

Kondo left clear instructions in his will: his family should not own racehorses after his death, but there was one exception. Toumei, and Toumei alone, was to be cared for until the end of her days. When Kondo died in 1991, all the other broodmares on the farm were sold, but Doi refused to move the aging Toumei. She had earned the right to stay where she was.

In early March 1997, at the age of 30 under the modern counting system (32 by the old Japanese method), she began to lose her appetite. By late March she stopped eating entirely and had to be supported with fluids. On April 7, 1997, Doi visited her stall and found that she had quietly slipped away. In accordance with Kondo’s wishes, she was buried in a small grave on the farm. Even after Makubetsu Farm ceased operating as a breeding farm, the signboard was left in place so that fans could find the site and pay their respects.

Why Toumei still matters

For modern fans—especially international ones discovering Japanese racing through global broadcasts and anime—Toumei can feel very far away. She raced before the official GI era, before international raiders, before Tokyo’s massive grandstands and the “Japan Cup generation.” Her name does not appear in GI lists because there were no GIs yet. But in the context of her time, she was every bit a world-class champion.

She was the first mare to be named Horse of the Year in Japan. She won two of the toughest staying races in the country—Tenno Sho (Autumn) and Arima Kinen—in the same season, over distances that test not just speed but heart. She raced 31 times in top company and never once failed to finish in the prize money. And she did all of this starting from a place where no one wanted her, where she literally had no groom and no stall to call her own.

In that sense, Toumei’s story is not only about racing. It is about what can happen when one small, unwanted life is given just enough time and just enough faith to show what it can really do. For Japanese racing, she opened a path that later mares like Air Groove, Vodka, Buena Vista, Gentildonna, Almond Eye and others would walk with their own styles and strengths.

For fans abroad, especially those coming to Japanese racing through modern stars, Toumei offers something deeper: a reminder that greatness doesn’t always look like a big, perfect, expensive horse in the sales ring. Sometimes, it looks like a “mouse-colored” mare tied outside the barn, waiting for someone to believe that she can run.