Wild Horses at Island Farm, Manteo, NC

My daughters, Julia and Dineane, and I visited Island Farm in Manteo, NC this past Thursday. Island Farm is a living museum teaching about farm life on the Outer Banks in the nineteenth. We had a grand time touring the furnished two-story house, watched a weaving demonstration, and we invited to touch and pick up anything we wished to examine closer.

Outside, Gloria Abbs demonstrated how clothes were washed and my daughter was good natured enough to give scrubbing on a washboard a try and let me photograph her.

The farm is really a working farm, with chickens, sheep, and cattle. Crops include sweet potatoes and corn. There is a vegetable garden, herbs and a beehive for the sweet tooth. We took an ox drawn cart ride around the grounds and the driver told us about the history of the farm.

Before leaving we had a nice chat with Jennifer Frost, who we’d met on entering when we bought our passes. She told us that in the pasture across the road from the main farm were two of Corolla’s wild horses. The horses are descended from sixteenth century European explorers and colonists. The horse have been an important part of the history and culture of the area ever since.

The farm took the horses on because the wild herd needs culling from time to time to keep the herd at a healthy and manageable size. But sadly, one of the two mares is there because some evil-minded person shot her with an arrow. She is no longer able to survive in the wild.

I just cannot comprehend a human being doing something like that. And it not the only time the one of the wild horses has been injured, even killed, at the hands of some violent and evil person. There are reports of horses being run down and hit by vehicles on the beach and even shot by gunfire. Others have become sick or died from eating trash or inappropriate food left out by beach visitors. The wild Colonial Spanish Mustangs, historically known as Banker Ponies, have survived four hundred years on North Carolina’s Outer Banks. They have made it through hurricanes and very harsh living conditions, but it is feared human beings and the rabid development of the Outer Banks will be their undoing.

The two horses, both fillies, at Island Farm, are named Gracie and Bow. You can see them as you drive to Manteo on highway 64, in a pasture where an antique windmill has been erected. It is directly across the road from the Island Farm entrance. It cost $6 per person the tour the farm and is well worth the price. You can spend as much time as you like, and there are always new demonstrations and different things to see.

To learn more about the Corolla Wild Horses go to http://www.corollawildhorses.com/index.html

To learn more about Island Farm go to http://www.currituckbeachlight.com/islandfarm/

Writing An Independent Spirit: The Tale of Betsy Dowdy and Black Bess

I first learned the story of Betsy Dowdy when I was doing research for an article about the Corolla Wild Horses. I read about this young girl who, like Paul Revere, rode to warn, “the British are coming” in Daniel Barefoot’s book, Touring the Backroads of North Carolina’s Upper Coast.

I liked this story because it was about one of North Carolina’s many heroic women, a gutsy young woman who passionate about horses. Horses are a wonderful equalizer for girls—they give them strength, speed, and stamina; they make them taller than grownups. I see it all the time as a riding instructor—little girls who may or may not be particularly athletic gaining confidence on a horse. I want girls to know they can do anything they want to do, and if they feel passionate about something they should follow their hearts.

My connection to the Outer Banks is from having a mother who loved to fish. We lived near the coast in Plymouth, about 80 miles inland from Manteo; and made frequent fishing trips to the beach. My other connection has to do with horses. I have worked in the horse industry for over 30 years. I became interested in our Banker Ponies and wrote some articles about them. I don’t know that I have any connections to the Revolutionary War—I’m, not THAT old.

Today’s girls and boys still love horses, but most don’t have the freedom to roam and ride across country like Betsy did. As a parent I would be as disturbed as Mrs. Dowdy was in my book to think my daughter was off doing those reckless and dangerous things.

In my research at the state archives I found documentation that a Josiah O’Dowdy lived on Currituck Banks in the 1700s. He had a daughter named Betsy. We can only guess if she was the Betsy in the legend. I think most legends are based on true occurrences, although some details get changed around in the telling and retelling.

It is the desire of most teenagers to be independent. Through personal experience they learn freedom comes with a price. Even Betsy knew that before she could go ride on the beach the chores had to be done. On a larger scale she nearly paid with her own life for the freedom to keep her home and the ponies on the Currituck Banks. But, Betsy didn’t really concern herself with the revolution until it hit close to home and endangered what she held dear. I am afraid many of us are like that; we live in our own little worlds without worrying too much about what goes on somewhere else. Then we are shocked when we are threatened personally.

I wrote the book in first person, from Betsy’s view point because her name and the horse’s name were so similar that I needed to find a way to avoid the repetition. I wanted to show the mother-daughter conflict, that I was sure my readers would relate to. Mrs. Dowdy’s journal entries seemed the best way to do it. I love reading books written in that format. It’s like being naughty and reading someone’s diary. I hoped it would show readers how parents worry and scold, but all the while the motive is their love for their children.

The Banker ponies have survived for over FOUR centuries, two since Betsy’s story. The thing we can learn from Black Bess is that the horses are an important part of not just North Carolina’s heritage, but also our country’s heritage. They are worth preserving to remind us of our history. Sixty years ago the horses on the Outer Banks numbered in the thousands, now there are only about three hundred left. In the last half a century they have succumbed to disease, starvation, collisions with vehicles and, inconceivably, some horses have been shot and killed by “vandals.” If it were not by the efforts of a few citizens who love the horses like Betsy did, they would be all gone by now. So, what I hope can be learned from Black Bess is that these horses are worth saving; and what can be learned from Betsy is that one person can make a difference.