Family and friends knows that I have an affinity for horses. My earliest memories revolve around them. As a toddler, I was fascinated by my rocking horse. At the age of four, I had my first ride on a real horse. I was hooked. My mother took me to a nearby park, and I was placed on a Shetland pony that seemed to have its own mind as it trotted off to its friends in the pasture. I was saddened when a few years later, my mother told me the stable burned down, and some of the horses had perished. Others, she said, survived because they were blindfolded by rescuers and led past the flames to safety. I wondered if the pony I rode was a among the survivors. A few years later as a ten-year-old, I happily took note that the origin of my family’s surname means “lover of horses.” And shortly thereafter I looked forward to watching on TV the annual spring races of thoroughbred colts with their riders contending for the Triple Crown. The energy, focus and synergy of beauty motion continues to reminds of what I love about horses. That’s why I’m writing about Sherman and his horses now.
Sherman begins his first chapter of “Memoirs” with his earliest memory as a seven-year-old. He describes how he and his older brothers would wait for their father’s return from his trips as a circuit judge in rural Ohio. The passage, typical of Sherman’s humor and irony, is too delightful to omit and so I include it here:
My memory goes back to about 1827, Sherman writes. “I recall [my father] returning on horseback, when all the boys used to run and contend for the privilege of riding his horse from the front door to the back stable. On one occasion, I was the first and being mounted rode to the stable; but “Old Dick” was impatient because the stable-door was not opened promptly, so he started for the barn of our neighbor; there also, no one was in waiting to open the gate, and, after a reasonable time “Dick” stared back for home somewhat in a a hurry and threw me among a pile of stones in front of preacher Wright’s house where I was picked up apparently a dead boy; but my time was not yet, and I recovered, though the scars remain to this day. Memoirs of Gen. W.T. Sherman Vol I From 1820 to the Mexican War
Several years later, Sherman, as a young army officer, arrived in Monterey, Alta California, in 1847. He was immediately captivated by the equestrian skills of the Spanish and Mexican horsemen, vaqueros and caballeros who displayed their horses and talents in the plazas of Monterey and Mission Juan Bautista.
During a visit to Mission Juan Bautista, Sherman was astounded by the low prices for good horses. Since Sherman’s own horse had become lame it became necessary to buy another. There was a fine black stallion that attracted my notice, and after trying him myself, I concluded a purchase. He paid $10, equivalent to $350 today. Memoirs Vol I Early Recollections of California
Sherman notes that horses could be bought at any price, ranging from four dollars to sixteen. In contrast, coffee and sugar were rare and expensive. It seems that Sherman invested in a couple of horses, keeping them in a nearby valley known for its excellent grazing grounds and surrounding hills to protect them from colder weather. To the reader this may seem exorbitant, a luxury of sorts but recall that at that time horses, or their cousin donkeys were the only means of land travel other than walking. An army officer required by his duties to make long trips on horseback would need to have more than one available for travel.
Rereading Sherman’s accounts of his years in northern California always sparks my curiosity and imagination. I sometimes drive, and currently pay upward of $6 per gallon to do so, through the same places where Sherman rode his $10 black stallion nearly two centuries ago. I work in a coast side town north of Monterey, where I occasionally see some horsemen trotting down Main Street or training their Friesian horses for dance competitions along the bluff overlooking the Pacific. I can’t help but smile, imagining Sherman would have been equally delighted by the sight.
