Justin Morgan, founder of his race : $b the romantic history of a horseBurnham, Eleanor Waring
History
Justin Morgan, founder of his race : $b the romantic history of a horse
Burnham, Eleanor Waring
Morgan horse
From Island Point they could see Plattsburg Harbor, and here Captain
Dulaney again sat for a long time buried in thought, looking across
the wild, dark forest and lake.
At dusk they bent their faces homeward, both horse and rider absorbed
in his own meditations until they reached College Hill.
Early next morning Samuel Stone came to bid the Morgan good-bye,
telling him he had been bought by Captain Dulaney, and that he “was
a very lucky horse!” Morgan knew this far better than Stone--wasn’t
Mistress Dulaney coming, and would he not have the happiness of
cantering under her saddle once more?
But she did not come at once. During the fall and winter of 1812
and 1813, the United States troops arrived and were settled in the
College buildings, now called United States Barracks for the winter.
Captain Dulaney rode Morgan daily and taught him to be a true cavalry
horse and to obey bugle calls. So obedient did he become and so
conscientious was he, that, one day when he was attached to a “shay”
at the foot of the hill, he heard the bugle sound “Charge.” He obeyed
instantly on the impulse, snapping his hitch rein sharply. Up the
hill he “charged” at full speed, the shay rattling on behind! ’Twas
not his fault that it was not shaken into bits! From a colt it had
been his instinct to obey without question, and certainly, at last,
in the service of his country he did not hesitate!
Soldiers, off duty, lounging idly in the shade, roused themselves
with a great roar of laughter as the old horse charged toward them.
An orderly sprang forward and caught the bit. Not a strap, not a tug
was broken! Every one cheered heartily, for “Old Justin Morgan” had
come to be a character at the post and was loved by all, men as well
as officers.
Time passed and still Mistress Dulaney did not come, though every day
Morgan looked for the one great, human love of his life. He wondered
if she remembered him--if she recalled the part he had played in
freeing her from the Coxcomb, and winning her the man she loved.
In the spring of 1813, when the ice broke up, a fleet was fitted out.
Oak timbers, cut on the Winooski, were sawed at the mills, nails and
bolts were fashioned out of hot iron at the forges where even the
bellows breathed patriotism. Masts and spars were tapered and sails
made. Liberty poles were set up on eminences--the higher the pole the
stronger the patriotism. Everything indicated war.
Commodore Macdonough took command of the lake and naval stores and
ammunition arrived from the South. All seemed waiting for the call
to arms when an epidemic of lung-fever broke out among the troops
stationed at the barracks.
Captain Dulaney was stricken, and lay ill unto death at his quarters.
Morgan missed him and pined for his company.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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