Horse Heroes of History ~ Part II

Today we bring you Part II of our stories about our equine friends, some famous, some almost forgotten, as we honour their contribution and the spirit and joy they brought to the lives of so many - the stories have been so amazingly received, we have been asked for more - so will continue every week for as long as they need to keep being told ...

FIGURE - The Humble Stallion Who Founded a Legacy

When most people hear the name “Morgan,” they might think of the sleek, intelligent, and versatile Morgan horse breed. But few know the real story behind the breed’s origin - the story of one small stallion with a mighty heart named Figure. Though small in stature, standing only about 14 hands high, Figure’s strength, speed, and personality would leave an imprint on American horse history that endures to this day.

Born in 1789 in what is now West Springfield, Massachusetts, Figure was a bay stallion with a compact build, an expressive head, and a powerful, elegant way of moving. He was gifted to a man named Justin Morgan, a Vermont schoolteacher, composer, and businessman, as repayment for a debt. No one could have predicted that this single transaction would change the course of equine history.

Under Justin Morgan’s ownership, Figure began turning heads. Despite his modest size, he proved to be immensely strong and athletic. He was used for a wide range of tasks—pulling logs in the forest, plowing fields, racing, and even carrying riders in parades. In every job he was given, Figure not only held his own against larger and supposedly more powerful horses—he often outperformed them.

In 1796, Figure's fame truly began to spread after he famously defeated two renowned New York racehorses in a sweepstakes race. His ability to out-run, out-trot, out-pull, and outlast competitors earned him a glowing reputation throughout New England. Locals began referring to him as “the Justin Morgan horse,” a name that would eventually define an entire breed.

But Figure’s legacy went beyond his physical accomplishments—it was his prepotency as a sire that solidified his legendary status. Throughout his life, his stud services were highly sought after. He passed down his distinctive characteristics - compact conformation, robust strength, willing temperament, and incredible stamina - to generation after generation. Even his grandfoals and great-grandfoals bore his unmistakable stamp. The horses that descended from him became renowned for their versatility and work ethic, serving as cavalry mounts, harness racers, farm horses, and family companions.

What made Figure exceptional was not just his ability to excel - it was his ability to reproduce excellence. In an era when horses were vital to nearly every aspect of life, having a stallion whose traits endured so consistently through multiple generations was nothing short of extraordinary.

Despite his increasing fame, Figure lived a humble and sometimes difficult life. He was traded among owners throughout Vermont and the Connecticut River Valley, used in everything from farm labor to militia parades. In 1819, near the end of his life, he was sold to Levi Bean, who put him out to pasture. Tragically, Figure died in 1821 after being kicked by another horse. Though his end was unceremonious, his legacy was already well established.

His life inspired the beloved children’s novel Justin Morgan Had a Horse by Marguerite Henry, which introduced Figure’s story to generations of young readers. The tale was also brought to the screen in a 1972 Disney film of the same name, further cementing Figure's place in American cultural history.

Today, every registered Morgan horse traces its lineage back to this one remarkable stallion. From humble beginnings and a modest frame came a horse who would go on to shape a breed known for beauty, bravery, and brilliance - all hallmarks of the little bay stallion named Figure.

COMANCHE - The Survivor of the Little Bighorn

Comanche was not a warhorse in legend alone - he was a true survivor of one of America’s most infamous battles. A bay mustang of indeterminate origin, Comanche became famous for being the only U.S. Army horse to survive General George Armstrong Custer’s disastrous defeat at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in 1876. At the time, he was the mount of Captain Myles Keogh of the 7th Cavalry.

When reinforcements arrived on the battlefield days later, they found the broken remnants of the cavalry - and Comanche, grievously wounded but still alive. The horse had taken multiple bullets and arrows but stood his ground. His survival was so miraculous that he was transported back to Fort Abraham Lincoln and given a hero’s welcome.

From then on, Comanche was never ridden again. He became a symbol of resilience and military honor. He was allowed to roam freely at the fort, was given a custom-made blanket, and was saluted by the troops every morning. Upon his death in 1891, Comanche was preserved through taxidermy and remains on display at the University of Kansas Natural History Museum.

Comanche wasn’t just a survivor - he was a symbol of loyalty, strength, and endurance during a time when the American frontier was marked by brutal conflict and profound change.

WENDY THE WUNDERMARE – The Little Kiwi Chestnut That Changed Lives

In the vast landscape of horse racing legends, where names like Secretariat and Phar Lap dominate headlines and history books, there gallops a much quieter kind of hero. Her name is Wendy - a chestnut Standardbred mare who defied every odd stacked against her. Known to those who loved her as "Wendy the Wundermare," her story isn’t one of glamorous trophies or triple crowns. It’s a tale of sheer will, resilience, and the beauty of finding greatness in the unexpected.

Wendy was born on a modest farm in rural New Zealand, far from the gilded stables of elite racehorses. She was small, slightly awkward, and utterly unimpressive at first glance. Trainers dismissed her. Breeders looked past her. She didn't come from a prestigious line, and her gait was described as "serviceable at best." But there was something in her eyes—fierce, alert, defiant. A spark.

At three years old, Wendy was sold for a pittance to a small-time trainer who didn’t mind giving the underdog a shot. He described her as “wiry, cranky, and stubborn,” but there was also a powerful engine under her humble hood. She was quick to learn and had a grit that outshone horses twice her size and price.

In her early races, Wendy made waves by consistently outperforming expectations. She didn’t always win, but she never gave up—lunging at the finish line with a fire that brought crowds to their feet. People began to notice the small chestnut with the giant heart. A mare who couldn’t read odds but made her own rules. The press dubbed her "Wendy the Wundermare," a tongue-in-cheek moniker that soon became a badge of honor.

But her career almost ended before it could take off. During a routine training session, Wendy suffered a tendon injury that many believed would be career-ending. Veterinarians suggested retirement, saying she’d likely never race again. But Wendy’s trainer saw that same unshakable spark in her. Instead of sending her out to pasture, he opted for months of careful rehabilitation—cold therapy, gentle groundwork, and time.

Wendy returned to the track the following season - not only sound but stronger. That year, she strung together a streak of wins that stunned the harness racing world. Race after race, Wendy outran, outmaneuvered, and outlasted the favorites. She wasn’t just winning; she was rewriting the narrative of what a “good horse” looks like.

But Wendy’s story goes beyond the track. After her retirement, she was adopted by a therapy farm working with neurodivergent children and veterans coping with PTSD. And here, she truly became a wonder. The same intuitive strength that had carried her across finish lines now helped children learn to trust, speak, and smile. One child, selectively mute since the age of six, whispered her first words to Wendy.

They say a good horse can run fast, but a great one runs into your heart. Wendy did both. Wendy the Wundermare's story reminds us that greatness isn’t always measured by records or breeding - but by courage, connection, and heart.

SAMPSON - The Towering Gentle Giant

In the green pastures of Bedfordshire, England, during the 19th century, one horse stood quite literally above all others. Sampson, a Shire horse born in 1846, holds the Guinness World Record as the tallest horse in recorded history.

Bred by Thomas Cleaver, Sampson was foaled at Toddington Mills. From an early age, it was evident he was no ordinary colt. By the age of four, Sampson measured an astounding 21.2½ hands high - that's 7 feet 2½ inches at the withers - and weighed an estimated 3,360 pounds. At his peak, he was renamed “Mammoth,” a name that suited him perfectly.

Despite his size, Sampson was known to be a docile and cooperative animal. He served as a working horse, hauling heavy loads and doing the kind of labor that only a horse of his immense strength could manage. His physical stature alone inspired awe in those who encountered him, and he quickly became a local legend.

Though there are no photos of Sampson, his measurements were officially recorded and verified, preserving his place in history. He was said to eat nearly double the feed of a typical horse, but he was worth every bit of it - both for his labor and for the wonder he stirred in people.

Unlike racehorses or show jumpers, Sampson never competed for prizes or raced for glory, but his quiet contribution to the world of heavy draft horses helped showcase the power and versatility of the Shire breed.

Sampson died in 1874, but to this day, no horse has surpassed his sheer height. His legacy is a testament to nature’s extraordinary ability to surprise—and sometimes overwhelm - with its creations. Sampson wasn’t just big - he was a giant among horses, both in stature and in legend.

BLACK JACK - The Silent Sentinel of Honour

Among the storied traditions of military funerals, there is one image that remains etched in the minds of all who’ve witnessed it: the riderless horse. Boots turned backward in the stirrups, the saddle empty - a final, solemn tribute to a fallen warrior who will ride no more. And no horse has ever carried that weight of honour more famously than Black Jack.

Born in 1947, Black Jack was a coal-black Morgan/Quarter Horse cross named after General John “Black Jack” Pershing. He stood 15 hands high and carried himself with a proud bearing - dignified, powerful, and watchful. His registration number in the U.S. Army was 2V56, and though he was not destined for the frontlines, his role would be no less important. Black Jack was trained to participate in the most sacred of ceremonies: the final farewell for America's heroes.

Assigned to the Old Guard, the Army's 3rd Infantry Regiment, Black Jack became the official riderless horse for military funerals held at Arlington National Cemetery. For years, he walked slowly and solemnly behind the caissons carrying the caskets of presidents, generals, and soldiers. His role required not only a flawless gait and poise under pressure, but also immense composure - to remain calm amidst gun salutes, drums, and the intense emotions of grieving families.

Black Jack took part in over 1,000 funerals during his service from 1953 to 1976. But it was one funeral that forever sealed his place in American history.

On November 25, 1963, Black Jack followed the caisson bearing the body of President John F. Kennedy, assassinated just days earlier. Millions around the world watched the broadcast, and Black Jack -riderless, with empty boots reversed in the stirrups - walked behind the President’s flag-draped casket, embodying the nation’s grief with solemn grace. His presence was silent but deeply symbolic: the commander-in-chief was gone, and the steed that would never be ridden again bore witness.

Despite the overwhelming crowd, the tension, the muffled drums, and the heart-wrenching cadence of the day, Black Jack never faltered. But he was not a robotic, emotionless figure. Onlookers recalled how he pawed the ground and tossed his head - as if feeling the weight of the moment. Jacqueline Kennedy reportedly requested Black Jack personally for her husband’s funeral and later sent a letter expressing her appreciation for his dignity and power.

Black Jack continued his ceremonial duties for more than a decade after that unforgettable day. His discipline and stoicism made him a living legend among the Old Guard. Even as he aged, he remained a symbol of enduring strength and honor. He was retired in 1973, and after three years of well-deserved rest, he passed away on February 6, 1976, at the age of 29.

What happened next was almost unheard of for a horse: Black Jack was buried with full military honours at Fort Myer near Arlington National Cemetery — only the second horse in U.S. history to receive such distinction.

His simple grave bears the epitaph:

“Black Jack – 2V56 – Riderless Horse for Fallen Heroes.”

But his true monument is found in the hearts of those who remember the sight of that black horse following behind the President’s casket, a wordless, timeless tribute to courage and sacrifice.

Even now, decades later, the image of Black Jack continues to appear in history books and documentaries, a reminder that not all heroes wear medals - some wear saddles, walk alone, and carry nations on their backs in moments of greatest sorrow.