Now & Then: Going after the horses

PEA RIDGE — A few days ago I was working in the southeast corner of our old farm barn, the corner that was originally used for horse stalls.

It was a long time ago that those stalls held horses, some 70 years, and today one sees no sign at all of the old horse mangers or of the partition that once separated old Pat’s stall from old Mike’s stall. Even the wall separating the horse stalls from the section for milking cows was taken out long ago as the barn was adapted for changing uses.

Probably because I grew up remembering the barn a certain way, then lived away from Pea Ridge for some 40 years before returning, whenever I go into the old barn it brings back many old scenes, memories of daily chores, and memories of a way of life before farm tractors reshaped our lifeon the farm.

Some people want to forget those days, maybe because of unpleasant memories of hardships they endured back then. But on the other hand, some people found the way of life we knew back then to be very appealing and satisfying.

They really enjoyed the era of horses and buggies and wooden-wheeled farm wagons. I am certainly not one who yearns for the old days, but I think there was definite enjoyment in working with the horses, even with the hard physical work that went along with that era of horse-powered agriculture.

Sometimes horses that pull heavy loads in the field, plowing, disking, harrowing, are referred to as draft horses. We knew that word, but it was more common around Pea Ridge to call them plow horses or field horses; as contrasted to riding horses or saddle horses. Draft horses are usually large and powerful, and slow on their feet. They did much more plodding than they did trotting or running or galloping. Our horses, old Mike and Pat, were not huge horses, like the Percherons and Clydesdales that one sees at state fairs in the midwest, but they were large, and were really strong pullers when they buckled down to lug together.

Back in the 1940s, although most people had a car or a truck, it was still common to see farmers in town with a team of horses pulling a wooden-wheeled farm wagon, possibly there to pick up a load of livestock or poultry feed from Webb’s Feed and Seed.

Some were seen about town on saddle horses. I especially remember Utah Smith for that. Long after many people had given up their horses, Utah still regularly relied on his favorite mount to get about the community. By the time I came along, it was pretty rare to see a buggy in Pea Ridge. Our own horses almost never came to town. Old Pat and Mike were such plodders that it took forever to walk that far from home. Galloping or trotting they rarely did.

They could pull a plow together as fast as you wanted to walk, but running was just not their thing.

As I remember it, old Pat and Mike never spent much time in those barn stalls. They might be fed their oats there, or their hay in wintertime, but like the cows, they were usually turned out on pasture if they weren’t working. The only times I remember their staying overnight in their stalls was when there was a plan to start working them very early the next morning, or if one of them was ailing and was being “doctored.” Usually whenever we had something for the horses to do, someone had to “go after the horses.” Very early on, that was my dad, but I soon got big enough that I could do some of the “going after.” One of my very earliest regular chores was to “go after the cows,” anda little later, to “go after the horses.” Our horses seemed to gravitate to our Hickory Nut Hill, just up the road from our house, so going after them was not usually a long walk.

Sometimes a horse comes to realize when he sees you coming that you have work in mind for him, andhe may decide to head out somewhere else. It is hard to chase down a horse that gets that idea in his head. I don’t remember our old Pat and Mike ever being really uncooperative. They were fairly easy to bring in. They seemed to realize that when you came out for them they would end up getting some good oats to eat. And, they seemed not to mind working in harness together. I have the idea that horses get bored, somewhat like human beings do, and having some work to do may be more interesting than doing nothing. Maybe they even like their humans, and enjoy the interaction. We humans often enjoy working with the horses. Maybe it is mutual, at least if neither is mean to the other.

Today, when we plan to go somewhere, we get ourselves ready, jump in the car, start the motor and zip away. Back in the day, getting ready to go somewhere meant going after the horses, harnessing each one, hitching them to the buggy or wagon, finishing up getting oneself ready, then climbing into the buggy or wagon, and with a “Gittyup,” or a “Hup, Hup,” or a little flip of the reins, one would be off to town, or wherever. Usually, if you were going by buggy, you wouldn’t rely on old work horses like our Pat and Mike, you wanted a horse or two that was lithe and lean and a good trotter. Buggies were intended to zip right along, unlike a stodgy old farm wagon.

Buggies often had springs to ease the jolts, so they were more comfortable at higher speeds. The old farm wagons “might” have a spring seat, but for the most part you felt every chug hole, every rock, every unevenness in the road (and those were many).

But there really were some good things about the good ole horse and buggy days!

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Editor’s note: Jerry Nichols, a native of Pea Ridge, is a retired Methodist minister with a passion for history, and is vice president of the Pea Ridge Historical Society He can be contacted by email at joe369@centurytel.net, or call 621-1621.