HORSE - HORSES STORIES
(excerpts from posts)
(If you want to retell any of the stories listed below, be sure to obtain permission from the copyright holder if the material is not in the public domain)

1) Wonder Tales of Horses and Heroes, collected by Frances Carpenter. Doubleday, 1952. 25 stories from various countries, including The Mare at the Wedding (a.k.a. The Tale of the Squire's Bride, found in Tatterhood) and Pegasus.

Here's The Squire's Bride from Bare Bones #3 - True Love. jb

#47 - The Squire’s Bride - a folktale from Norway
Bones taken from original folktale as found in East o' the Sun and West o' the Moon, with Other Norwegian Folk Tales, as told by Gundrun Thorne-Thomsen, from 1919. Full-test versions may be found on many websites, including:
http://members.dca.net/slawski/bride.html
http://www.rickwalton.com/folktale/junior33.htm
http://www.wishfaery.com/fables/squiresbride.html

Story: An old rich squire owned a big manor house, had silver stored in many chests, lent out money at high interest. But he was a widower, had no wife. Took a liking to a neighboring farm girl, thought she would jump at chance to marry such a rich man. Told her he had the notion to marry again. The snickering girl retorted that one could have many notions, some perhaps better than remarrying. He said that it was her he wanted; she thanked him, turned him down, thinking to herself that the day would never come when she would accept that ugly old man.

Squire surprised, miffed, wanted her more than ever, would not accept no for an answer. He went to girl’s father, agreed to forget about the money he owed if father could get girl to marry him. And he would throw in a large piece of prized, fertile land besides. Father promised to do so, determined to straighten daughter out. Talked and talked to her, both soft and sharp, did no good. Girl was adamant, would not have Squire if he sat in gold dust up to his ears.

Squire impatient with waiting. Ordered father to fulfill his promise. Father agreed to trick girl, telling Squire to prepare for wedding, with parson and wedding guests in attendance; he would send girl to manor house to do “work”; Squire must marry her instantly, before she could get her wits about her.

Squire thought this a good idea, had servants get ready for lavish wedding, invited guests, commanded boy servant to go quickly to farmer’s house with an order to deliver what farmer had “promised.” Boy slow to move; angry Squire shook his fist at boy; terrified boy sped to neighboring farm, found daughter in meadow, gave her Squire’s message demanding her father fulfill his “promise.” She told boy her father had promised Squire a little white mare. Boy mounted mare, galloped back to manor house.

Squire greeted boy at door, asked if he had brought “her” with him, boy said she was standing out by the door. Squire ordered boy to take her upstairs to his mother’s old room; boy puzzled, how to do this? Squire snarled “Do as I say!” adding that if boy could not do this by himself, he should get others to help, since Squire knew the girl might get out of hand. Frightened boy summoned all the servants, some shoved mare from the back, others hauled her from the front. Finally, they all got her upstairs in the chamber. There on the bed lay the bridal outfit, ready and waiting.

Trembling, the boy reported to the Squire, telling him what a horrible job it had been. Squire laughed, telling boy he would be rewarded. Then he ordered boy to send womenfolk up to the room to dress his “bride.” Boy puzzled, objected, Squire shushed him, telling him they were to completely dress his bride, forgetting neither wreath nor crown. Boy passed message on to maids, believing that his Master wanted to give his guests a good laugh.

So the girls dolled the mare up in bride’s clothes, boy reported to Squire that she was ready, Squire told boy to bring down his bride and he would receive her at the door himself. Tremendous clattering on the stairs ensued, for this bride did not wear silken slippers. The doors opened, the Squire’s Bride came prancing out into great hall, all the wedding guests burst out laughing.

And as for the Squire, for some reason he never went out courting again.
Bones contributed by Jackie
Also: http://members.tdn.com/~dagwood/Squire'sBride.htm

2) The Tale of the Ebony Horse is from the Arabian Nights (The Arabian Nights, Brian Alderson & Michael Foreman)
http://www.geocities.com/Athens/4824/arabian/a_night_14.html

3) Firdausi's Iranian Shahnameh (Kings' History); many chief princes have brilliant named horses, the greatest ones untamable but any but their fore-ordained great human riders. One risks serious censure to bring news/ reminder to prince.
http://www.iranchamber.com/literature/shahnameh/11firoud.php
http://www.shahnameh.com/
http://www.enel.ucalgary.ca/People/far/hobbies/iran/shahnameh.html

4) Mu lan (made by Disney into a movie), a horse story from China.
http://www.georgeleonard.com/mu_lan_faq.htm
http://www.cliffsnotes.com/WileyCDA/LitNote/id-162,pageNum-11.html

5) Horse is Chinese Zodiac animal, large, steady, hard-working.
http://shop.store.yahoo.com/artisticchinesecreations/horse.html

6) From Indian subcontinent -The true story is about the Charioteer Shrii Krishna of 3,500 years ago. More at
http://www.ru.org
Also: http://www.valmikiramayan.net/bala/sarga3/bala_3_prose.htm

7) Mongolian (Chinese) story, The Lost Horse, found in Jane Yolen's collection: Favorite Folktales from around the World.
http://www.noogenesis.com/pineapple/Taoist_Farmer.html

8) In The Squeaky Door by Laura Simms, the horse is one of the main characters, or at least the horse plays a critical part in the plot. (In the same way that it's true for The Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly.)
http://www.laurasimms.com/

9)Tales of Ilya of Murom, the old Cossack, who rides a shaggy bay steed, Cloudfall, who finds leaping over lakes and mountains pretty easy. (Collection Essential Russian Mythology, by ?Pyotr Simonov? is one), or Dragon, Elves and Heroes, edited by Lin Carter (Ballantine); that one is taken from Hapgood's Epic Songs of Russia (1886) and, there is also reference to N.K. Chadwick's Heroic Russian Poetry.)
http://www.sunbirds.com/lacquer/readings/1009

10) The Goose Girl, in Grimm's, features a horse called Falada.
http://www.fln.vcu.edu/grimm/gans_e.html

11) Caligula made his horse Incitatus a consul one year - that shows how much the Republic was a legal fiction and the Consuls hardly more than a way of dating years!
http://www.who2.com/caligula.html
http://www.sciencedaily.com/encyclopedia/caligula

12) The man-eating mares of Diomedes, fetched by Heracles as one of his labors.
http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/Herakles/horses.html

13) Alexander the Great and his horse Bucephalus (Bucephalus means ox-head, from the shape of a mark.)
http://www.mymacedonia.net/history/bucephalus.htm

14) Welsh, Mabinogion, with Rhiannon probably being a horse-goddess in origin. There's also the song Widdicombe Fair.
http://www.missgien.net/arthurian/mabinogion/
Song background: http://members.aol.com/wzither/wzoct02.html
Lyrics + music: http://www.contemplator.com/tunebook/england/widicomb.htm

15) Mare's Eggs in Jo Sherman's Trickster Tales: Forty Tales from Around the World. Another version is called Horse Eggs, in Puppet Tales by Valerie Marsh.
http://www.sff.net/people/josepha.sherman/
Contact Valerie Marsh at:
http://www.cesa10.k12.wi.us/dl/trips/vm.htm

16) The Black Horse in Joseph Jacobs' More Celtic Fairy Tales. An enchanted horse helps the youngest son of a king.
http://www.cyberfae.com/library/CelticFairyTalesMore/JacobsBlackHorse.html
http://www.authorama.com/celtic-fairy-tales-19.html

17) Helios the Sun God with his golden chariot driven by eight untamed stallions and his son Phaeton. (Myth)
http://www.loggia.com/myth/helios.html

18) Don Quixote and his horse, Rossinante. (Man of La Mancha)
http://www.operajaponica.org/synopses/quichottesynopsis.htm

19) From Russian Fairy Tales, no author listed (not the Afase'ev collection). How the Boyar Came to Know Necessity.
http://www.pjtss.net/library/leslie/slape22.htm

20) Russian story sometimes called The Firebird (see below for bones), sometimes The Horse of Power. Also called The Firebird and Princess Vasilissa, from Afanase'ev collection (Russian Fairy Tales, Pantheon).

21) The Princess on a Glass Hill (Norwegian) has a strong horse component.
http://www.readprint.com/chapter-6520/Andrew-Lang

22) In a book called Animals You Will Never Forget from Reader's Digest copyright 1972, are several stories: The Four Legged Curate of Williamtown; The Farm Horse That Became a Champion; Elijah, the Hermit Horse; The Wonderful White Stallions of Vienna; A Runt of a Horse; A Horse for Wezie. These stories would be effective told from the point of view of the horse.

23) The training of the Lipizzaner Stallions in the The Wonderful White Stallions of Vienna.
http://www.lipizzaner.com/
http://www.equine-superstores.com/stallion/lipizzaner-stallions.html

24)The Magic Horse in Caravan of Dreams by Idries Shah.
http://www.katinkahesselink.net/sufi/stories.html

25) The Remarkable Horse from Sweet and Sour: Folktales of China by Carol Kendall. This story emphasizes that things which happen to us in life are not always as bad or as good as they seem.
http://www.tc.umn.edu/~d-lena/Mythcon24%20Carol%20Kendall.html

26) Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged steed, is not only swiftest of horses, but able to gallop equally as well through the air and over the seas, as across the earth. (The Death of Balder). In Kevin Crossley-Holland's work, The Norse Myth, he rates a separate index listing.
http://www.widdershins.org/vol3iss6/y9706.htm

27) Pegasus, another flying horse with dark origins, this time from the mating of Poseidon and Medusa.
Story + music: http://lair2000.net/Pegasus_Roost/Medusa.html

28) Suho and the White Horse. That's the title of both versions by Yuzo Otsuka (may be Pony instead of Horse.)
http://www.education-world.com/a_books/books084.shtml

29) The Splendid Outcast from Beryl Markham's African Stories, 1987, North Point Press. (These are mostly horse stories from Beryl's own life or based on her love of horses.)
http://www.satevepost.org/issues/2004/0708/04-0708-splendidoutcast.shtml

30) Depending on the age of the audience (or their broadmindedness), what about the Scottish Jack tale, The Shitting Donkey?
http://www.talesandmusic.de/tales/shitting_donkey.htm
Richard M. Germany

31) If you're wanting to keep any kind of Texas connection, J. Frank Dobie collected a bunch of stories about mustangs and mustangers. One I tell is my adaptation of his The Pacing White Steed of the Prairies included in I'll Tell You a Tale. Then, of course, there are several stories about Pecos Bill and his horse, Widowmaker. You might want to do something with The Old Gray Mare, written by Gus Bailey who, with his wife Molly, had a circus in Texas in the late 19th century.
Donna
http://www.americanfolklore.net/folktales/tx2.html
http://www.scoutxing.com/skits/audience_participation/skitap_048.htm

32) Websites for horse stories that have copyright notices.
http://www.potomachorse.com/songs.htm

http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0047e.html has the following tales:
The Fox, the Wolf, and the Horse (France, Jean de La Fontaine).
Here It Is Told of the Fox and the Mule (Italy).
Two Foxes and a Horse (Scotland).

http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0047a.html another page has:
The Fox and the Horse (Germany, Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm).
Reynard Wants to Taste Horseflesh (Norway, Peter Christen Asbjørnsen).
Fox and Wolf (Netherlands, G. J. Boekenoogen).
Brother Fox Catches Mr. Horse (African America, Joel Chandler Harris).
The Fox, the Monkey, the Hare, and the Horse (China).

http://www.pantheon.org/areas/folklore/folktales/articles/dun_horse.html
The Dunn Horse -- Russian

My favorite -- Peter Paul & Mary's
Stewball
Oh, Stewball was a racehorse,
And I wish he were mine.
He never drank water,
He always drank wine.
His bridal was silver,
and his mane, it was gold,
And the work on his saddle
has never been tooled.
Oh, the fairgrounds were crowded,
And Stewball was there
But the betting was heavy
on the bay and the mare.
And a-way up yonder,
Ahead of them all
Came a-dancin' and a-prancin'
My noble stewball.
Oh, the hoot owl, she hollered
And the turtle dove moaned
Of a poor boy in trouble
on a long way from home.
I bet on the gray mare,
And I bet on the bay.
If I had bet on ol' Stewball,
I'd be a free man today.
Oh, Stewball was a racehorse,
And I wish he were mine.
He never drank water,
He always drank wine.
•••••
Mary Lee

33) How about the story of the father and son who are taking their donkey to market? They try different ways: son riding, father riding, carrying the donkey themselves, and each result meets with criticism from someone. The moral being that you can't please everyone. If memory serves me correctly it is a sort of noodlehead story but I can't remember the title.
http://www.pacificnet.net/~johnr/cgi/aesop1.cgi?3&TheMantheBoyandtheDonkey

There is also another Noodlehead tale about two brothers who can't decide which horse is which and end up counting the spots or something to that effect. This story is in Noodlehead Stories - World Tales Kids Can Read & Tell by Martha Hamilton and Mitch Weiss. The title is Whose Horse Is Whose? (page 38) and it is from the USA. The two noodleheads actually figure out which one is their horse by measuring and comparing that the rown horse is three inches taller than the white one with black spots. Noodleheads for sure!
http://www.beautyandthebeaststorytellers.com/default.html

There is also a tale called Bess where a young man, a fortune teller, reads a man's fortune and tells him his favorite horse will be the cause of his death.
Quick bones: The horse is old and rather lame and the man doesn't believe the fortune teller. He does end up selling the horse to a farmer. Years later he meets the farmer. The horse has now died and the young man is somewhat relieved, the horse surely can't harm him now. He asks to visit the bones of the horse to say goodbye. He approached the dry white bones in the corner of the farmer's field, reaches down to touch the skull and a rattlesnake jumps out and bites him, causing his death. A good jump tale.
Karen

34) Talking horses would go down well. There are lots of Russian tales about heroes with talking horses such as The Firebird and Chestnut Grey. Also a beautifully grim Grimm tale, The Goose Girl who has a horse called Falada.
http://www.NetStoreUSA.com/fibooks/071/0711215529.shtml
Moni

35) The final dispute in Clever Manka is about a colt found under a wagon and given to the owner of the wagon.
Here is Clever Manka from Bare Bones #3 - True Love - jb
#18 - Clever Manka
[Bones taken from Best-Loved Folktales of the World, selected by Joanna Cole, illustrated by Jill Karla Schwarz. New York: Anchor Books, Doubleday, 1982. ISBN 0-385-18949-4
Other versions may be found in:
Carter, Angela, ed. The Wise Little Girl in The Virago Book of Fairy Tales. London: Virago Press, 1990, pp. 28-31.
Hoffman, Mary. Clever Katya. New York: Barefoot Books, 1998.
Lurie, Alison. Manka and the Judge in Clever Gretchen and Other Forgotten Folktales. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell, 1980, pp. 9-16.
Minard, Rosemary, ed. (1975), Womenfolk and Fairy Tales. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin.
Dundas, Marjorie, Riddling Tales from Around the World. University Press of Mississippi.]

Story: A poor shepherd worked hard one day for a rich farmer. In return he was to receive a heifer. When it came time to pay, the rich farmer reneged. They took their argument to the burgomaster. He was a young man and not too experienced. Instead of deciding the case, he put three riddles to both men, the one with the best answer would keep the cow. They agreed.

The burgomaster gave them the riddles. "What is the swiftest thing in the world? What is the sweetest thing? What is the richest? He told them to think about their answers and come back the next day.

The rich farmer was angry when he returned home. His wife told him she had the answers: “The swiftest thing is our gray mare; nothing ever passes it on the road. The sweetest is our honey. The richest is our chest of golden coins.” The farmer was happy and believed he would win the next day.

The shepherd returned home very sad. He had a daughter, a clever girl by the name of Manka. When her father told her about the riddle, she said she could help. The next day she gave him the answers as he left for court.

The men arrived and the judge asked for their answers. The rich farmer gave him the answers his wife had chosen. Then the judge asked the shepherd. The shepherd said: "The swiftest thing in the world is thought, for thought can run any distance in the twinkling an eye. The sweetest thing is sleep, for when a man is tired and sad, what can be sweeter? The richest thing is the earth, for out of the earth come all the riches of the world."

The judge was delighted and gave the heifer to the shepherd. He asked the shepherd who gave him the answers. He confessed it was his daughter Manka. The judge liked her cleverness and decided to make another test. He gave the shepherd ten eggs and told him to tell Manka to have them hatched by tomorrow and to bring him the chicks.

At home Manka laughed and said: "Take a handful of millet and go right back to the judge. Say to him: "My daughter sends you this millet. Plant it, grow it and have it harvested by tomorrow, and she will bring the ten chicks to feed on the grain."

When the judge heard this he laughed. “She is clever. I would like to marry her. Tell her to come to see me, but she must come neither by day nor by night, neither riding nor walking, neither dressed nor undressed."

Manka waited until dawn, wrapped herself in fish net, threw her leg over goat’s back, kept one foot on the ground. When she arrived at the judge’s house, he was so pleased with her cleverness and beauty he proposed at once. They were married.

The judge told her she must never interfere with his court cases. If she did, he would turn her out of the house and send her home to her father. Manka agreed and all went well for a time. Then one day two farmers came to court. Each said they owned a colt. The mare had foaled in the marketplace and run under the wagon. The farmer who owned the wagon said it was his.

The judge wasn’t listening properly and said he agreed. As the true owner of the mare was leaving, he met Manka and told her what happened. Manka knew her husband was wrong and told the man to come back in the afternoon with fishing net and string it across the road. He was to tell the judge that if a wagon could foal a colt, he could catch fish in a dusty road. When the judge heard this, he admitted he was wrong and asked the man who told him to do this. When the man told him it was Manka, his wife, the judge became furious. He called for Manka and told her to leave the house and go back to her father. He didn’t want anyone saying he treated her badly, so he told her she could take the one thing she loved most from the house before she left.

Manka asked that they have one more meal together and the judge agreed. She made him all of his favorite foods and made sure the wine flowed freely. The judge fell asleep. Manka had the servants carry him out to a waiting cart. When he woke up, he was in her father’s cottage. He was very angry with Manka and asked, "What does this mean?" Manka replied, "Nothing, dear husband, nothing! You told me to take with me the one thing I liked best in your house, so I took you!"

The judge laughed, Manka had outwitted him. He agreed that she was indeed clever and they went home together. He never scolded her again and whenever a difficult case came up he always said, "I think we had better consult my wife. You know she’s a very clever woman."

[There is also Vasilisa, the Clever, The Peasant’s Wise Daughter, and Catherine, Sly Country Lass, all found in Bare Bones #3 - True Love.]
•••••
Contributed by Karen C.

36) Here's another story from Bare Bones #3 - True Love about a stone horse that comes alive. jb
#8 - The Magic Brocade
[This story also goes by a different name: The Magic Tapestry. It originally appeared in The Piece of Chuang Brocade in Folk Tales from China, Third Series, Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1958 (out of print); also in The Weaving of a Dream, a Chinese Folktale. Retold by Marilee Heyer, New York: Viking Kestrel, 1986.
New and used, starting at $6.30 at:
Weaving of a Dream: A Chinese Folktale

New and used, starting at $16.95:
The Magic Brocade : A Tale of China (English/Vietnamese Edition)

This picture book is written by Aaron Shepherd, available at:
http://www.aaronshep.com/books/MagicBrocade.html

The following version is the one told by Storyteller Linda Spitzer.]
Story: In a land far away, an old widow lived with her three sons. The eldest was Leme, the second Lituie, the youngest Leje. Their small cottage sat in a mist-filled valley in front of a high mountain.

The old widow had a special gift. She wove beautiful brocades—flowers, plants, birds, animals that seemed almost alive. Her weaving was in constant demand at the marketplace. Thus the old widow supported her family; her boys helped out by chopping and selling wood.

One day at the marketplace, she saw a wondrous painting hanging in a nearby stall. It showed a large palace surrounded by flower gardens, vegetable gardens, fruit trees, pastures, lovely birds, even a fishpond. A river ran by the palace; the whole painting was warmed by a great red sun. Every dream she had ever had was there. Her heart filled with happiness; she wanted to live in that palace. She guiltily traded brocades for painting. When she got home, the older sons said painting was nice, but she should have bought rice. They told her it was just a silly dream.

But Leje, seeing her sorrow, suggested she do a weaving of the painting, and as she worked on it day by day, it would almost be like living there. She agreed; that night, she began weaving her brocade.

Once she started, she didn’t stop. For days, months she worked, shuttle flashing. Leme and Letuie became angry. They pulled her hands away from the loom, complaining they now had to chop more wood in make money, and they were tired.. Leje offered to chop and cut all the wood from then on, and he did, working day and night.

Old widow wove every hour, never stopping. At night her eyes burned from candlelight; she didn’t stop. After one year, tears dropped onto the threads, became part of river and fishpond. After two years, blood dripped from eyes onto threads; became sun and glowing flowers. After third year, she was done. Widow and sons gazed at most wonderful brocade ever woven. All three sons so proud.

Suddenly a great wind blew through hut taking wondrous brocade with it into sky to the east. They ran after it, but brocade was gone.Vanished! Widow fainted on doorstep. When she opened her eyes, she begged Leme to follow wind, bring back brocade; he agreed. He traveled east to mountain top where stone horse stood at door of stone house. Old white-haired crone/fortune teller asked where he was going; he told all. She revealed elusive fairies of Sun Mountain had sent wind to fetch brocade; they wished to copy it; he might never find them. He must knock out two front teeth to feed to stone horse and bring him to life; horse would eat 10 red berries growing at his feet, then he would carry Leme through fire on Flame Mountain; he must not cry out or he would be burned to ashes. Then would come Sea of Ice, where again he must not cry out or he would sink to bottom. At last, he would reach Sun Mountain and receive brocade. Leme grew pale and paler; crone laughed, gave him box of gold, sent him home. Going home, he decided to spend gold on himself; headed toward city.

Old widow grew thinner waiting for Leme; after two months she send Letuie for brocade. He arrived at crone’s stone house; heard the conditions, grew pale, received box of gold, headed for city. Meanwhile, widow grew thinner, went blind from weeping. Leje volunteered to go after others. she reluctantly agreed. Leje set out; reached stone house; crone told him conditions; Leje did not turn pale, refused box of gold, vowed to bring back brocade to prevent mother’s death. He knocked out his teeth, put them in horse’s mouth, horse ate 10 berries, Leje flew with horse 3 days, 3 nights to Flame Mountain, passed through fire, Leje did not cry out with pain; came to Sea of Ice, they jumped in, he became numb, uttered no sound, emerged and arrived at Sun Mountain, where golden light warmed him, eased pain. Lovely palace at top of mountain, women singing and laughing. Stone horse flew Leje up to palace door, guarded by strange creatures. Leje boldly marched through the door into great hall filled with beautiful fairies weaving a replica of his mother’s brocade. Fairies agreed he could have brocade if he allowed them one more night of weaving; they welcomed him to the palace for the night.

Fairies worked frantically all night by light of shining pearl. Red fairy finished first; her work looked dull compared to old widow’s bright colors; her fine stitches looked coarse. She decided to become part of the brocade; wove a picture of herself by fishpond.

Leje awoke, fearful that fairies would not give him brocade. They were all asleep at their looms. He took down brocade, ran to stone horse, 3 days 3 nights, arrived at old crone’s stone house. She restored his teeth, horse turned back to stone. Putting on gift of embroidered boots, Leje arrived home in one instant. His mother lay dying on bed; Leje covered her with brocade; its sun warmed her, her sight returned, she gazed at her beloved brocade. They took it outside, spread it on the ground; gentle sweet-smelling breeze swept through valley, stretched out brocade so it covered everything with silken threads. Palace appeared, gardens, birds, fruit trees, pasture, red sun; and sitting by fishpond was red fairy. Old widow startled but invited fairy to live in their palace; invited all their kind neighbors, too. Before long, Leje and red fairy married. The weaving of the dream was complete.

One day as Leje, his mother, red fairy sat in garden making toys for expected baby, two beggars stared at them through fence; Leme and Letuie had squandered all their gold in the city, were now penniless. Filled with grief and remorse, they turned away from the happy scene and silently crept away, never to be seen again.
•••••
Contributed by Linda S.

37) A book full of fabulous horse stories! Magic Hoofbeats by Josepha Sherman, Barefoot Books, 10/04, hardcover, $19.99.
Gallop away to another world with this captivating anthology.
"Ideas for stories are all around, and I take my inspiration from so many different places. Some of my ideas come from dreams, some come from snippets of conversation I overhear, while others come from images in magazines." –Josepha Sherman
Excerpt:
"He put on his jewels and his royal robes, and rode Qeytas once around the palace, twice around the palace, and as they rode a third time around the palace, Qeytas leaped up into the air and flew off." — from Magic Hoofbeats

About Josepha ("Jo" to us on this list.):
Josepha Sherman is a best-selling author and horse whisperer as well as a keen folklorist, specializing in comparative folklore. Her most recently published work is Mythology for Storytellers (2003), but she has also written a fascinating variety of books, with a range that encompasses novels for the hugely popular cult TV shows Star Trek and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. When not busy writing and editing, Josepha loves to travel. A natural horse-lover, she has been privileged enough to have a newborn foal fall asleep at her feet. Josepha currently lives in New York.
New and used, starting from $87 at:
Mythology for Storytellers: Themes and Tales from Around the World
More info about Jo:
http://www.barefoot-books.com/us/site/pages/authors.php?aid=230
http://www.sff.net/people/josepha.sherman/

39) If you tell any Russian folktales, notice the important role of horses in them. There is a fabulous line in (I hope I'm right!) Joanna Cole's Harvest of Folktales at the beginning of one of the Russian tales about the Cossacks not being dead but waiting on their horses under the earth, waiting to ride forth when their country needs them. 

The term "Horse of Power" is often used to describe them, and they talk to their riders, telling them how to be successful intheir quests (advice seldom taken, of course), as in The Firebird (see below) when Ivan is told not to take the golden cage but the wooden cage, etc. A tsarevich's last friend is his horse, still with him when he finally sits on a stone and weeps!  I use on my letterhead (from Jackie, of course) the image of Tsarevich Ivan on his horse staring at the stone which says"Who rides straight forward shall meet both hunger and cold. Who rides to the right shall live, though his horse shall die. Who rides tothe left shall die, though his horse shall live." Hard decision for a tsarevich!

Also, Koschei the Deathless's horse, remember, came from Baba Yaga's own stable.  When Marya Moryevna and Ivan discover that and determine to get a horse of power of their own to make good their escape from Koschei the Deathless, Marya tells him to go to work in Baba Yaga's stable and to select the sickest, weakest little colt as his pay, and, of course, it is the one which eventually is about to outrun Koschei's horse. There are some episodes in there about him herding the horses, and Oh! there's that conversation about how fast Koschei's horse can run "You can sow wheat, thresh it, wait for it to dry, bake it into bread, and we will STILL catch him." Something like that.
http://storypalace.ourfamily.com/c98822.html
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=lang&book=red&story=death

All this rambling,and I'm thinking Russian horses, yes! and if you don't know one and have to learn it, Marya Morevna is the story to tell to horse-lovers!
http://www.sunbirds.com/lacquer/readings/1032
Mary Grace K.

Here's The Firebird from Bare Bones #3 - True Love. jb
#16 - The Firebird
[Synopsis of story told by storyteller, Yvonne Healy. This version is inspired by the music of Igor Stravinsky, choreography of George Balanchine, choreography of James Kudelka and folk art by an anonymous crafter purchased in 1998 at Moscow's Izmailovsky Market. Other versions of the folktale predate these works.]

The son of the Tsar is forbidden as a child to enter the dark forest beside the palace. Prince Ivan overhears servants regaling each other with tales of a wonderful treasure hidden deep in the forest. As soon as he grows old enough to order his guards away, Prince Ivan enters the forest.

Dark & darker it grows until Prince Ivan sees the shadow of a man. The Prince calls but hears no answer. When Prince Ivan moves closer, he
realizes the man is a stone statue. The statue is incredibly lifelike; the
figure is caught in the moment of patting a dog.

The Prince travels further into the forest where he spies more statues. As the darkness deepens, Prince Ivan feels overwhelming dread and fear. Suddenly brilliant light appears in the darkness. A beautiful shining bird flies over the Prince's head. Ivan feels lighter and joyful. He moves again with ease.

Prince Ivan captures the Firebird in his strong arms. The Firebird struggles with all her might but collapses exhausted as the Prince holds her. The beautiful Firebird begs the Prince to free her. Prince Ivan releases the Firebird. In return, the Firebird gives Prince Ivan one of her brilliant feathers.

"Use this to summon my help in your moment of direst need." Firebird says as she flies away.

Prince Ivan again journeys into the center of the forest. He discovers more statues of men. Behind them looms the great shadowy wall of the Castle Dread.

Suddenly beautiful music and light appear in the darkness. Maidens dance through a gate in the castle wall and gather in the forest. Prince Ivan hides behind a tree watching the maidens dance. Ivan falls in love with the most beautiful maiden, Elena, who wears the crown of a princess.

Overcome by love, Prince Ivan comes out from behind his tree and joins in the dance. Princess Elena falls in love with the Prince.

Unexpectedly, the earth begins to shake and quake. A horrible noise is heard. The Princess urges Prince Ivan to flee from the horrible ogre and sorcerer, Koshchei, owner of the Castle Dread. They reveal that they are his prisoners and that all of the statues are human men Koschei has turned to stone.

Prince Ivan refuses to flee. All are surrounded by shrieking, screaming goblins. The Prince attempts to protect Princess and maidens. But the goblins capture him and ensnare him with ropes. Then Koschei, the ogre, arrives and begins magically turning the Prince into stone. The Prince moves slower and slower. Each of his movements becomes more difficult as if his body is growing heavier and heavier.

When Prince Ivan can no longer move his legs, and one of his arms, he remembers the Firebird's feather hidden in his pocket. Slowly he reaches for the feather and at last touches it.

Instantly the Firebird appears singing of light, beauty and love. Her magic song forces the goblins and ogre to dance faster and faster. At last the goblins dance themselves into a frenzy and collapse unconscious on the forest floor. Koschei, too, collapses. The sorcerer is paralyzed but conscious.

Prince Ivan raises his sword to kill the evildoer. The ogre laughs. "You cannot kill me," Koschei sneers. "My heart does not lie in my body."

Prince Ivan searches through the forest, seeking the hiding place of the ogre's heart. With each failed attempt, the sorcerer regains more of his ability to move.

Finally, in a rotten twisted tree, the Prince finds a hole in the blackened trunk. Something within the hole emits an eerie glow. Prince Ivan realizes it is evil sorcerer's heart. With great fortitude, the Prince overcomes his aversion to touching the slimy, revolting egg. He carries it back to hold over Koschei.

Prince Ivan squeezes the egg which holds horrible heart. Koschei dies. All the goblins and all the shadows disappear. A breeze moves the leaves of the trees. Sunlight returns to the forest. As light touches the statues, the men return to life.

The Prince and Princess lead the maidens and men out of the forest. They return to Prince Ivan's castle where they all marry and live happily ever after.
•••••
Contributed by Yvonne

40) From Andrew Lang's Grey Fairy Book: The Goblin Pony
http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/l/l26gf/chapter2.html

41) From Andrew Lang's Grey Fairy Book: The Magician's Horse
http://etext.library.adelaide.edu.au/l/l26gf/chapter11.html

42) From Andrew Lang's Red Fairy Book: Dapplegrim
http://www.mythfolklore.net/andrewlang/097.htm

43) From Andrew Lang's Red Fairy Book: The Seven Foals
http://www.mythfolklore.net/andrewlang/086.htm

44) Not a horse, but a donkey!
From Andrew Lang's Yellow Fairy Book: The Donkey Cabbage
http://www.mythfolklore.net/andrewlang/041.htm

45) From Andrew Lang's Crimson Fairy Book: The Horse Gullfaxi and the Sword Gunnfoder
http://www.mythfolklore.net/andrewlang/227.htm

46) The Wonder Book of Horses by James Baldwin. 13 horse stories.
Including:
Helios's Four-in-hand
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=helios
The Horses of Sol and Maane
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=sol
The Black Steeds of Aidoneus
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=steeds
The Eight-Footed Slipper
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=slipper
The Winged Horse of the Muses
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=winged
Griffen the High Flier
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=griffen
The Ship of the Plains
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=ship
Al Borak
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=borak
The Great Twin Brethren
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=twin
The Dancing Horses of Sybaris
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=dancing
Bucephalus
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=bucephalus
Rakush and his Master
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=rakush
&PHPSESSID=89358e35d7c2fc10bfe260fc58a06d95Broiefort,
Broiefort, the Black Arabian
http://www.mainlesson.com/display.php?author=baldwin&book=wonder&story=arabian

47) Three full-text Chinese folktales involving horses:
The Fox and the Horse
Germany
Reynard Wants to Taste Horseflesh
Norway
Brother Fox Catches Mr. Horse
African American
The Fox, the Monkey, the Hare, and the Horse
China (a Han story)
http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type0047a.html#china

48) Two full-text Chinese folktales involving horses:
The Gold Colt and the Fire Dragon Shirt
A Han Folktale
The Wooden Horse
A Uygur Folktale
http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/china.html#goldcolt

49) The Wizard and the Farmer
Part of Kids Ark
Here's a folktale from Cheshire, England. It is a very old tale, about a very famous wizard.
http://web.ukonline.co.uk/conker/conkers-and-ghosts/alderley-edge.htm

50) The Kelpie's Wife
Part of Kids Ark
Here's a folktale from Loch Garve, in Scotland. It's all about a legendary creature the water-horse or kelpie.
http://web.ukonline.co.uk/conker/conkers-and-ghosts/kelpie.htm

51) The Lost Horse — a Chinese folktale
Review from Publishers Weekly
Both text and art are elegantly spare in Young's (Lon Po Po) newest retelling of a Chinese folktale, which may be among the Caldecott Medalist's finest works. Sai, introduced as a wise man, loses his horse; when people arrive to comfort him, he tells them, "You know, it may not be such a bad thing." It proves, in fact, to be fortunate: the horse returns with a mare. Sai rejects his friends' congratulations ("Perhaps it is not such a good thing"), and he is right again (the mare throws Sai's son). This pattern continues, and by the end, Sai's son, like his father, "trust[s] in the ever changing fortunes of life." It's a relatively metaphysical lesson for a picture book, but Young's restrained and even suspenseful telling brings the message home warmly and appealingly. The illustrations of subtle collages with pastels and watercolor eschew Young's often characteristic abstractions in favor of a delicate, slightly flattened style, reminiscent of traditional Chinese painting. Tranquil scenes of Sai's exchanges with his neighbors alternate with dramatic spreads (e.g., the dappled horse rearing, a lightning bolt in the sky behind it). As a bonus, three laminated, jointed paper figures of Sai, his son and the horse are tucked into a plastic sleeve on the back jacket. An author's note exhorts readers to use these figures to "extend the story beyond the limits of these pages." No doubt they will. Ages 5-8.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Product Description:
The Caldecott Medalist’s magnificent illustrations combine paint and paper collage to animate this ancient Chinese story of a wild horse that brings extraordinary reversals of fortune to its trusting owner. Three removable, cut-paper puppets invite young readers to act out the story and to create exciting new tales of their own.
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/tg/detail/-/0152010165/002-7349320-6965613?v=glance

52) Cornish Fairies: The Night Riders
http://www.gandolf.com/cornwall/fairies/NightRiders.shtml

53) Jethwa and Ujali [Rajasthani Folktale]
The night was dark after rains as clouds were still there in the sky. Amar Dan heard the footfalls of a horse advancing towards his hut. He called his daughter and told her...
by Dina Nath Dube
Illustrations by Amarjeet Malik
http://www.4to40.com/folktales/index.asp?article=folktales_jethwaandujali

54) There's Jimmy Driftwood's song The Tennessee Stud. I used to have a 78 recording of Tex Ritter telling The Phantom White Stallion of Skull Valley (flip side of Wreck of the Old Number 9) until my brother sat on it. I met Tex at a Grand Old Opry road show (golly, he was big; Little Jimmy Dickens and Red Sovine were also on the programme) and asked him about it -- if it had ever been reissued in LP. He said he had forgotten all about the song. I'd love to hear it again.

"Stud" means specifically the farm where stallions stand and play host to visiting mares. In the US, "stud" is used loosely as short for "stud horse", meaning a stallion, or an apparently prepotent man, or just a compliment. When I was making a living reading poetry in coffee houses, a man came up to me after one set and told me he liked my poetry and I was a "tough stud". He then proceeded to recite what he said was the story of how he was sent to prison. He called it The Blue Velvet Band. Much later I learned that it was a traditional ballad at least 100 years old.

The Irish government owns a stud farm near Kildare Town called the Irish National Stud. A supposedly true story goes that a young Irish man worked there and bought a T-shirt with the name of the place on it, went to the US to work, wore the T-shirt, and caused a lot of women to wonder what he had done to win such an interesting award. I think some of them did more than wonder.

When I was a groom at Hazel Park Race Track in Detroit, I took my 13-year-old goddaughter, Nicki, to work with me one day. Once she was shown how to do it, she busied herself mucking out stalls. We forgot to tell her not to go into the stall of the horse we called Killer. He was a nasty horse who hated people. Only the trainer and shedrow foreman were allowed to go in there, and they only went in with a pitchfork in one hand and a club in the other. We lost track of Nicki and went looking for her. "I hope she didn't go into Killer's stall," the foreman said, but sure enough, we could hear the carefree chirping of Nicki singing away as we approached the stall. There she was, working diligently on the wet spot in the centre of the stall, while Killer was making himself as small and inconspicuous as possible scrunched wide-eyed with disbelief in a corner. What Killer didn't know and I had yet to discover was that Nicki, the youngest of the family and spoiled rotten, was already a consummate con artist. Don't try this at your home stable unless you have the ability to ring up one of your string of male admirers and order him to come over, take your pickup truck (she drove a pickup to avoid having to take people to parties and so she couldn't be "designated driver") and get the oil changed -- on a Sunday! -- and have it back in an hour. Treat a young girl like a princess and she grows up to be a queen.
Richard

55) The Cadi and the Caliph's Horse - a Turkish tale
Story:
One day the king, also called the caliph, disguised himself as an ordinary traveller and left his palace to travel through his country and see for himself how his people fared. Mounted on a fine steed, he travelled on until he came to within a few miles of the town of Bassora. There he saw a poor lame man seated by the wayside.

"Alms! Alms! I beg of you," implored the beggar.

The caliph threw him a piece of money, and was about to ride on, when a sudden thought stopped him. "Old beggar," he said, "to what city do you journey?"

"To the city of Bassora," answered the lame man.

Dismounting, the caliph helped the old man to the horse's back, then mounting in front of him, rode into Bassora.

Arriving at their journey's end, the caliph said to the lame man, "Dismount. I leave you here."

"Dismount yourself," answered the beggar. "The horse is mine!"

"What!" cried the caliph. "Miserable beggar! Did I not lift you from the roadside?"

"Very true," replied the beggar, "but can you prove it? In Bassora we are both strangers. It is your word against mine. What are you going to do?"

That was a question the caliph had to answer for himself. He thought, "If I throw the old man into the gutter, he will cry out. A mob will gather and yell, 'Give the old man his horse!'

"If I give the thief a large sum of money, he'll be glad to let me have my horse back but at the same time he'll be encouraged to cheat someone else in the same way.

"If I ask a Cadi (judge) to settle the case, I may lose my horse, but at the same time, I'll find out how the Cadi of Bassora deals justice."

So saying, they went to the place where the Cadi was holding court. Two men stood before the Cadi: an oil merchant, and a porter. The porter held a piece of gold in his hand. "This coin," he said, "belongs to me."

"Your Honour," said the oil merchant, "that coin is mine. I have owned it for many years and always carry it. I lost it only today."

"Are there any witnesses?" asked the Cadi.
"No, Your Honour," answered the man.
"Very well," said the Cadi. "Leave the coin with me and return tomorrow."
"What sort of way is that to render justice?" thought the caliph to himself.

The next case was called, and two other men approached the Cadi.
"What is your trade?" he asked the first.
"I am a writer," was the answer.
"Why are you here?" continued the Cadi.
"This morning while I was out, someone stole my Book of Learning. That tailor," he said pointing to the other man, "now has it and claims that it is his."
"Are there any witnesses?"
"None, Your Honour," replied the man.
"Very well," said the Cadi, "Leave the book with me and return tomorrow."
"Indeed these are strange ways to render justice," thought the caliph.

Next the Cadi called the caliph and beggar before him.
"Who are you? And what is your trouble?" he asked, addressing the caliph.

"Your Honour," replied the caliph, "I am a traveller from a distant land. A few miles from your city gates, I met this lame beggar lying by the wayside. I had compassion on him, and lifting him to my horse's back, I brought him to this city. He repays my kindness with the basest ingratitude. He claims that my horse is his own."

The Cadi then turned to the beggar. "What have you to say in answer to this man's charge?" he said.

"The horse is mine," answered the beggar. "I raised him from a colt, and we love each other as brothers. If my horse is taken from me, what shall I do? You see, I am but a poor lame man, and I need my faithful horse to carry me." Here the old beggar pretended to weep to gain the sympathy of the judge.

"My goodness," thought the caliph to himself. "How is the Cadi going to decide? The old humbug almost persuades me that I have stolen my own horse!"

The Cadi calmly asked, "Have you any witnesses?"
"No, Your Honour," replied the caliph and the beggar.

"Then," said the Cadi, "leave the horse with one of my soldiers for the night, and return to this courtroom tomorrow morning."

The next morning, the caliph arrived at the courtroom early, for he was eager to hear how the Cadi would decide all the cases.

Promptly at the opening hour, the Cadi entered the room, and at once called the oil merchant and the porter before him. Handing the gold piece to the oil merchant, he said, "Here is your gold piece. Take it and depart."

Then he turned to the porter. "You have tried to keep what did not belong to you, and you have lied," he said in a stern voice. "Soldiers," he called. "Take this man from the courtroom, and give him twenty strokes with a rod on the soles of his bare feet."

Next the writer and the tailor came before him. "This Book of Learning, I find, belongs to the writer," he said. "I now return it to him. Soldiers, take this false-swearing tailor and give him thirty lashes with whips on the palms of his hands."

At last the caliph and the beggar were called before the Cadi, who addressed the beggar, "Why have you repaid kindness with ingratitude? Do you not know that the ungrateful man is the most miserable wretch on earth? Since you are lame I will not have you beaten, but I will keep you in prison until you repent of your evil ways.

"Good traveller, the horse is yours. Take it, and continue on your way. May your kindness be better rewarded in the future."

The caliph thanked the judge and stepped to the back of the room. There he waited, until all but the Cadi had left the courtroom. Then he approached him and said, "Honoured Judge, I much admire your wisdom. Without doubt, you are inspired. How else could you render such righteous judgments?"

"No inspiration at all," replied the Cadi. "These cases have all been very simple. Did you not hear the oil merchant say that he had carried that piece of gold for many years? Last night I threw the coin into a glass of clear water. This morning, I found the surface of the water covered with tiny drops. I then knew, beyond doubt, that the coin did belong to the oil merchant."

"Good," said the caliph. "But do tell me how you knew to whom the Book of Learning belonged?"

"That case was equally easy to settle," responded the Cadi. "On examining the book, I found that the pages most used were those on which the duties of writers and scholars were set forth. The book belonged to the writer."

"Your judgment is most excellent!" exclaimed the caliph. "But how could you tell to whom the horse belonged?"

"Last night I had your horse put in a stable that you and the beggar would have to pass on your way to court today. This morning I went to the stable. When the beggar passed, the horse never looked up. But when you passed the open door, he stretched out his head and neighed as horses do only when a loved master approaches. So you see, my friend, the matter was very simple after all."

"Simple!" cried the caliph. "Your wisdom is beyond compare! I am the Caliph. I need just such a man as you in my capital city. Honest Judge, I now make you Grand Cadi!"
•••••
Contributed by Dale W. Pepin
http://pages.zdnet.com/storysocks/

56) Wow, this is quite an article. If you've ever fancied driving children round in circles with a whip, read this. Well, all right, it doesn't quite come down to that, but the famous horse whispering technique is actually being applied successfully to children. See the full article at the link below.

The Horse Whisperer is called in to tame children.
Education chiefs back film hero to improve discipline

Amelia Hill, education correspondent
Sunday March 13, 2005
The Observer
It was immortalised on film by Robert Redford - the story of a Canadian who tamed wild horses with near-mystical sounds and signs. Now the techniques revealed in The Horse Whisperer are to be harnessed to improve discipline in school classrooms.
http://observer.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,6903,1436542,00.html

The home page URL for the Observer is: http://www.observer.co.uk
Tim S.

57) I do some horse whispering, but I do it in Equine: I make the noises a mare makes to calm her foal, and it calms adult horses, too. I have no idea what noises one would make to calm human foals!
Jo S.
Response: It's funny you should say that. Only a few times has my grand daughter been cranky when I've had her. She's 9 months this week. And each time I held her close with my mouth to her ear gently telling her the story of her birth. She calmed right down. Maybe there is something to it.
Marilyn K.

58) Carousel horses
Interesting facts about carousel horses:
I attended a talk from a local artist who carves and 'restores' old carousel horses.

* Carousel horses in the US circle counterclockwise and in in Europe they circle clockwise. Why? Apparently because the craftsmen that came from Europe to make the carousels wanted to distinguish the carousels in America from those in Europe.

* Have you ever noticed that most carousel horses are painted decoratively only on one side (the side being much plainer)? NO! I haven't noticed this and it is my favorite ride. The only thing I can put my lack of observation to is the concept of "closure" and that I saw what I expected to see.

* Some carousel horses have real horse hair tails. The artist who gave the presentation says he buys them locally. The woman who sells them to him also sells "tail wigs" and "mane wigs" for show horses. Apparently there are some show horses that have great skills but have bad hair days!
Mary K.C.

New Query: Carousel horses in the US circle counterclockwise and in in Europe they circle clockwise. Why?
Response: Horse races in Britain and Ireland are nearly always run clockwise, a right-hand turn, which is sunwise, the way the sun appears to move across the sky. This is in harmony with the universe. Curses are applied in an anti-sunwise movement. A warrior in stories dating back to the Iron Age (2000 years ago) who turned his chariot's left side to someone was challenging him to fight. This is probably why people drive on the left here, to avoid seeming to challenge on-coming traffic. Several reasons have been offered to explain why Americans and others drive on the right, but I don't know if there has ever been a consensus.
Richard M. Ireland 4/6/05
•••••

(Updated 11/7/05)