Читать книгу Warrior: The true story of the real war horse - Isabel George, Isabel George - Страница 6

Warrior was born in the spring of 1908 and raised on the family estate on the Isle of Wight, where he enjoyed all the love and privilege any horse could ever need for a healthy and happy start in life. Seely was working at the Colonial Office in London when he received a telegram announcing the new arrival: ‘Fine child for Cinderella born at Yafford this morning. Both doing well.’ Seely was overjoyed and excitedly shared the news with colleagues, although not all of them understood why the birth of a foal warranted the sending of a telegram. To Seely, this was family news; he was pleased to hear that the foal had delivered safely and relieved that his beloved charger, Cinderella, was doing well after the birth.

The fields of the Mottistone Downs that pitched and dipped their way to the sea were Warrior’s playground. Feeling at home there, and seldom more than a few feet away from his mother, he grew into a calm and affectionate youngster. As he galloped and frolicked across the rolling countryside, Warrior also began to show that he was every bit his father’s son. His sire – a handsome chestnut stallion called Straybit – had speed in his bloodline. His ancestors included horses such as Voltigeur, who won the Derby and the St Leger in 1850. The year after Warrior was born, Straybit romped home to win the Isle of Wight Lightweight race, leaving his competitors tasting the earth he kicked up in his wake.

So Warrior developed into a reflection of all that was good in his parents’ characters, but there was something inside Warrior that shone beyond the good looks, gentle nature and his speed, which his master soon discovered. When Seely first rode Warrior, it was unfortunate that he chose entirely different clothes to those he had been wearing when he’d made his many visits to Cinderella and her son in the fields. Taking one look at the new outfit, Warrior wasn’t sure if he wanted this man on his back! He pulled his ears back, snorted and pawed the air with his front legs. After the third time of being pitched onto the ground, Seely decided to have a quiet word with his horse and explain that they could carry on like this forever, but he would really rather they became friends. He even suggested they might be ‘friends together for all our lives’. Warrior, comforted by Seely’s gentle tones, dipped his head and rubbed his warm, dewy nose against his master’s cheek. From that moment the two were inseparable.

There were moments at home on the Isle of Wight, as Seely rode his young horse over the chalky Downs to the water’s edge, when Warrior showed his master that he had a gift for harnessing and for denying fear its power. At first Warrior wasn’t sure if he liked the sea and certainly not the breaking water, but his master encouraged him closer to the point where he could feel it ripple over his feet. He liked it. He didn’t allow it to frighten him. Little by little, with patience and understanding on his side, Seely was eventually able to walk his horse into the waves. There and then he realised the courage of this horse. He might have been trembling a little at first, but then Warrior absorbed his own fear. It was Warrior’s steadfast bravery as he faced the wall of tumbling water that made Seely realise his horse was not only fearless, but even radiated a sense of calm.

As a veteran of the Boer War, General Jack Seely had seen horses suffer in the most horrific ways and would not have wanted any of that for Warrior. Everyone was talking about signing up for King and Country and being home for Christmas, but Seely had devoted his civilian life to politics and he sincerely doubted the Great War would be over in four months. Even before he had returned from the war in South Africa he had been voted in as MP for the Isle of Wight, and alongside his great friend Winston Churchill (a war correspondent in the Boer conflict) he had nurtured a parliamentary career. By 1913, while Churchill accepted the role of First Lord of the Admiralty, Jack Seely was in the pivotal role of Secretary of State for War.

Seely did not rush into donating Warrior for the war effort. First, he pondered his concerns and talked them over with his friends in politics who also knew of Warrior’s qualities and his suitability for the task at hand. He had already made one leap of faith in his decision to train the youngster as a charger, not a racehorse. He heard from his trainer ‘Young Jim’ Joliffe how his young horse showed calm intelligence and that he was wise and lovable, but he also knew that he was brave and fearless. In the spirit of Empire and all that was considered good and honourable in the service of the monarch, Jack Seely signed up for war and volunteered Warrior, too.

Warrior had no idea that he would soon be wrenched from the comfort of his mother’s love. He was just four years old but he was about to embark on an episode that would require him to focus every ounce of his courage and resilience on survival. All he ever was and all he ever could be would converge at that moment.

The pair took one last gallop over the Downs together. The smell of the sea clung to their hair and clods of sweet earth spat up from the fields as Warrior pounded the ground. ‘My Warrior, we are about to go on an adventure and neither of us can know what it will bring. One thing is for sure: we will be together and we will care for each other until we can ride these fields again.’