
In anticipation of the Kentucky Derby held on May 2 of this year, I wrote about how horses accompanied Sherman throughout his life.This year’s derby was a race of a lifetime, a horse with odds set to 30-1 coming from the rear to cross the finish line first. The horse’s trainer is a woman, the first to have a winner in ‘the run for the roses’. And this accomplishment merits its own story.
But I digress since this is not about the races of the Triple Crown. Besides, this year there won’t be a triple crowned winner since the Derby winner will forego the upcoming Preakness. Here I continue my reflection on Sherman, his horses, and what I’ve learned from both his experience and my own.

By John Frederick Herring, Sr. –
It’s said that one doesn’t become an equestrian until falling off a horse at least three times. I’ve fallen off three times. I may or may not have become a better rider, in each fall. But I have learned something more about myself.
The first fall was off a pony. I presumed I would be able to convey my intentions without the use of any aids, like a bridle or a saddle to keep me seated. What did I learn? The concept of ‘thinking before acting’. True, at the time, I was a kid, and the lesson didn’t stick in my thought process until much later.
The second fall was an attempt to jump. The horse was in perfect form. But I was not. I was insufficiently prepared. So I had an idea of what I wanted but didn’t have the skill to achieve it. The third time I slipped out of the saddle at the horse’s canter. The only explanation is that my body at the time was not strong enough to support me. I was recovering from an illness which depleted much of my energy. In my mind, I could do what I did before. But my body was suggesting something different, and I wasn’t paying attention.
Fortunately, many horses know what their riders can or cannot do. If they’re good-natured, they’ll accommodate themselves, despite the confusing cues received from the person on top of them. They do so to assure the safety of them both. Other times, though, they get spooked out for whatever reason or none at all. Then it’s up to the rider to help them alleviate their fears. I have found in those cases it helps to think of the ‘calm, cool, and collected’ mantra, while hoping that one’s mind, body, and spirit are stacked to generate that response. I’m fortunate when a horse and I are able to ride through a ride together through moments of uncertainty by remaining calm.

By H. Bullock Webster –
Sherman had at least three falls and probably even more. I wrote about the first fall here. In his Memoirs he wrote about a fall which occurred while he was hunting in South Carolina. Apparently, he dislocated his shoulder. Years later during the famous Battle of Shiloh of the Civil War Sherman had three horses shot from under him. These horses ‘took the bullet’. It’s no wonder then that he would have a special bond with his war horses. How did Sherman feel when his horses perished in battle? He doesn’t say. But given the intensity of violence and the trauma that ensues, I’ll presume that he suffered from loosing his hoofed companions. Perhaps he realized that he was alive because of their fearlessness in battle mayhem.
He wrote to his wife Ellen about losing one of his favorite horses. Dolly, who was ‘stolen’ by the enemy (the horse was in transport on a supply train that was confiscated by the Confederates). But he joked that the enemy will be sorely disappointed when they realize that Dolly was not much of a battle horse as she bolted at the sound of gunfire. She preferred parades.
In their younger years, Sherman and Ellen enjoyed riding horseback through the countryside outside of Lancaster, Ohio. Sherman considered riding an important life skill and a necessary component to his children’s education. He wrote to his eldest daughter, Minnie encouraging her to continue advancing in horsemanship. He was proud of his ten-year-old son, Willie, riding alongside to ‘inspect the troops’ at the camp in Vicksburg.
Military training at West Point in mid 19th century included advanced equestrian skills, which Sherman and fellow officers in training took part. 40 years later, as a retired war general, Sherman voiced his objection when West Point scaled back courses in military equestrian skills. He argued that despite the advancement in artillery, training with horses taught transferable skills important in military strategy.

Why did Sherman think horsemanship was still necessary? I’m not sure what he had in mind, but I’ll presume it has to do with the horse and rider analogies of Greek philosophy. Plato reworks earlier metaphors of a charioteer and his horses, to illustrate lessons in the pursuit of the good through correct reasoning and practice of virtue.
Horses have been necessary for human survival and flourishing for millennia. Up to as recently as early last century, humans relied primarily on horses to assist in transport and food production as well as military defense and conquest. It’s no wonder that thinkers observing horses and people together would come to insightful life lessons.
While perhaps no longer necessary for our survival, we can still learn from horses and benefit from their presence and interaction with them. Watch horses in motion as Leonardo daVinci clearly did, or watch a child interact with a pony to see what you can learn.

By G.dallorto – Own work, CC BY-SA 2.5 Wikimedia Commons
Following his mentor Plato, Aristotle also uses examples of horses to underscore intricate and abstract concepts. He advances his predecessor’s metaphor of horse and charioteer to elucidate his thoughts on human activity, temperament, and ethics. It’s not difficult for us to reflect on what we observe in nature, horses included. Analogies help make concepts accessible. Aristotle’s contemporaries had firsthand knowledge of what makes for a “good horse” (one who is fit, gallops well, and is responsive to its rider in difficult situations) for “the excellence of the horse makes a horse both good in itself and good at running and carrying its rider and at awaiting the attack of the enemy”. Nichomachean Ethics Mkeon/Reeve 2001
Aristotle then gives examples of what makes for human excellence, for the virtue of [a person] also will be the state of character which makes one act well Nicomachean Ethics Bk II Ch 5 Here and elsewhere, Aristotle makes an important distinction between theoretical knowledge and practical knowledge, the latter leading to skill acquired through practice and experience. We have opportunities to watch a good horse and skilled jockey running at full gallop at the race tracks that comprise the Triple Crown. But that will not make us better riders. We need practice, what the Greeks called (φρόνησις) phronesis or practical wisdom.
As AI provides information generating vast amounts of contextual knowledge, the ability to make such distinctions in human activity becomes more critical. It’s one thing to ‘know’ what human excellence; what the ancient Greeks called ἀρετή arete, should look like and another to know how to live accordingly through intentional practice.
I consulted ChatGPT to explain these distinctions. It did so in less than a second. But while its computational algorithms provided me with a certain amount of reliable information, it’s up to me to evaluate the information and to decide to how to respond.

Further, I need to make a decision to strive for excellence or ‘the good’ and then practice doing so Practiced excellence comes not only from an idea of what it should look like but also knowledge gleaned from the hard task of ‘doing the work’ to achieve it.
Sherman and his contemporaries learned such lessons in the art of living in part from the patient horses that accompanied the
True, we also need teachers to deepen the learning process and guides to encourage us. Further, horses feature less or not all in many people’s day to day experience. And even with support we have from the environment and people around us we may find that the challenges in life exceed are present capacities and skill sets. That’s when it helps to think about what horses can teach us.
The 20th century philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein from his own experience puts it succinctly:
“I sit astride life like a bad rider on his mount. I owe it solely to the horse’s good nature that I am not thrown off right now.”
L. Wittgenstein 1939-1940

By Alfred Steinacker Wikimedia Commons











































































