Happy Friday! Here is your Friday Flashback. For those of you who are close followers of our page, you would have seen Part 1 on Wednesday. (It is still up for those of you who want to go back and find it.) From the Ancient Gossip column presented by Diane Orser for the “Lippitt Club News,” Vol. XII, No. 6, Nov/Dec 1985, pp 10-11:
“Another True Story About the Intelligence and Courage of the Morgans” – Written by Joseph F. Bean, in an old circular of the Morgan Horse Co., Carpentersville, Illinois
Part 2:
I should also say (the Morgan mares) were not used exclusively for light driving but also for mixed farmwork.
About the next fall, in exchanging work with his neighbors, their owner was working them on a thrashing machine (either ten or twenty horsepower). One of the owners of the machine, Mr. N., had a fine large gray team called half-Norman, weighing about 1400 or 1500 pounds each, of which he was very proud and about which he was fond of boasting, frequently saying, “There is the best team in our country,” and it was generally conceded to be true by his neighbors. One day a “setting” was finished and another of four stacks stood on a knoll about five or six feet high, some six or eight rods away. It was a “down power” and the distance was so short it was thought best to “snake” the power without loading it or removing the sweeps. Mr. N. had his large team hitched to the separator.
“Shall I snake up the power,” asked S., the owner of the Morgan mares.
“No,” said N., “it’s no use to hitch those little rats to it; they can’t pull it out. As soon as I set the separator, I’ll snake it up with my team.”
S. busied himself about something else until the crack team of the country was hitched to the power; they tried but did not start it. “N.,” said S., “when you’re through fooling with that power, I’ll put on my little mares and pull it up for you.”
N. did not reply, but urged his team again, but the power would not start.
“When you are done fooling with that power, I’ll pull it up for you with my little mares,” said S.
N. was angry. “If you want to act like a fool, hitch your little mares to it,” said he.
S. started instantly, brought up his little Morgan mares and hitched them to the power. They stooped and lifted once, and only once; they tore it out when they stopped; they left it where it was wanted. They were beautiful, gentle, kind, and intelligent; they were fleet and powerful. On the road or on a load, their behavior was always pleasing. They were representatives of the Morgan blood, which seem to obey your will like your right hand without word or sign.
(Photo of Hippolyta and Rose of Sutton. Blackthorne Farm collection. While not the mares spoken of above, these two mares are two of the 25 foundation stock chosen for the Lippitt Morgan.)
