Cruiser- The Celebrated Horse | A Great Horse Story

The stories of great horses, whether alive or long dead, have always given me help and comfort in powerful ways. At nine years old, reading about the courage of race horses motivated me to pursue a life with horses. At thirty, the message of this horse’s trials, inspired me when I was angry and bitter after my mother’s death. The horse’s name was Cruiser, and he actually lived the life of a real Black Beauty during the reign of Queen Victoria.

The dark bay colt with the black mane and tail was born on the beautiful estate Greywell, owned by Lord Dorchester in southern England. His sire was a champion, and his bloodline led directly to the brilliant race horse Eclipse. It seemed like Cruiser had a bright future ahead of him.

At two years old, Cruiser was sent to the race course at Newmarket. At first he tried to get along with the people around him. But the grooms who cared for him and the jockeys who galloped him were rough and impatient.

If Cruiser didn’t understand a signal or became afraid, they didn’t take time to calm him down or explain what to do in a reasonable way. They tried to bully him into obeying with harsh shouts or the sting of the whip. Soon, Cruiser started to fight back. If the grooms slapped him, he would bite. And when jockeys stung him repeatedly with the whip he would try to throw them off.

He stayed in training though, and was entered in an important stakes race, the Criterion. He was up against the fastest two-year-olds in England. On race day, Cruiser got off to a good start but got trapped behind the frontrunners. In the homestretch he came flying up with a burst of speed. He just missed catching the leader and placed second by a neck. His jockey was so impressed with his stretch run, he asked to ride him in the next year’s Epsom Derby.

In the spring of 1855, Cruiser was picked as the favorite to win the Derby. A month before the race, these hopes were dashed when Cruiser injured his leg during a workout. The damage was so severe it ended his racing career.

Since Cruiser had valuable bloodlines, he was retired to stud at Rawcliffe Stock Farm. Cruiser sired six colts and seven fillies and three became successful on the turf: Medora, Rajah Brooke and Rattlebone.

As time went on, Cruiser became very unhappy and difficult to handle. He got so unruly that the grooms who walked him were given a gun. Finally Rawcliffe decided it wasn’t worth risking lives and Lord Dorchester was told to take him back.

Cruiser’s return home to Greywell did not improve his angry outbursts. He kicked so furiously that he destroyed every wooden stall he was put in, so a brick stable was built for him. Imprisoned in these four walls day after weary day, he grew even more vicious. An eight pound iron and leather muzzle was put on him and this added to his misery.

His fury blazed at those who came near. When the grooms had to go in his box stall, they slid a long pole inside to shove him back against the wall. His grain was delivered down a chute, then he had to lick up the grain through the muzzle.

His dark fame spread. People would come to stare and laugh at Cruiser. The cruel ones would toss things at him to watch him throw a temper fit. He would not let them down. Blasting a neigh like the sound of thunder, he’d charge at the intruders with teeth bared, then whirl and kick at the walls. Everyone would jump back at the shocking crack of hooves hitting brick.

Two long years Cruiser suffered through this, and no doubt he would have ended his days in this sorry state. One spring day in 1858, however, a stranger in a top hat strolled up to his stable. The mysterious guest was an American trainer from Ohio, John S. Rarey. He had come to England to teach his system of gentling dangerous horses without hurting them.

Rarey believed, “You can never tame a horse by brutal treatment—rough breaking does no good—but much harm…kindness, of all other means, is the best mode of training the horse.”

A newspaper writer, hoping to make Rarey look like a fool, dared him in the paper to “try Cruiser.” Lord Dorchester gave his permission, so Rarey accepted the challenge and traveled to Greywell. Rarey explained during a lecture what happened next. His quotes were in the Harper’s Weekly newspaper in 1861.

“I knew if I approached Cruiser with a stick he would fight me, as he had fought others who came to whip him. In the box was a double-door, so that I could open the upper half. I went quietly, opened the door noiselessly. Cruiser turned around and saw me, and started back frightfully, but did not attempt to come at me.

“Cruiser came slowly up to smell of me after a while, and, in spite of Lord Dorchester’s entreaties, I stood still. Presently when I saw that he stood naturally, I began to stroke him. Lord Dorchester begged me to tie his head, and I did so, but you never saw such fighting. Finding that he would either kill himself or tear down the box, I released him and began all over again….I had too much faith in my principles to recede. I did not try to hurt him, but instead to establish confidence between us.”

After three hours of work and patience, Rarey convinced Cruiser to work with him instead of fighting. Cruiser had not been ridden in three years but Rarey, and then Lord Dorchester, rode him calmly up and down the lane.

The next day Rarey brought Cruiser to London, where the newspaper stories had stirred up a storm of excitement. At Rarey’s next horse training lecture, there was standing room only. Everyone was eager to see this horse that was so savage, so recently—could he really have changed that much in one week?

When Rarey announced, “And now I present…Cruiser!” the audience gasped to see the dark stallion trot playfully into the ring by himself with only a bridle on.

Cruiser came over and stood quietly beside the slim young man in the black coat. Rarey told the audience that he hadn’t brought Cruiser in to “do all manner of tricks, only to show what a gentle creature he has become, and instead of rushing at you to strike you, he will even give you his foot at command.”

At this moment, Cruiser lifted up his hoof and placed it into Rarey’s hand. The riding school shook with the audience’s wild clapping and cheers.

After this amazing performance, Rarey’s lectures became the must-see event in London. Cruiser was the main attraction and he made an appearance night after night. He took to performing with great zest, and seemed to enjoy surprising the audience. He would kick up or whinny at just the right time to make everyone laugh.

During the shows, Rarey would also train local problem horses. While working, he’d talk about the intelligence of horses, the unnecessary whipping of draft and carriage horses, and the damage done by cruel, sharp bits and tight checkreins.

Rarey and Cruiser were honored to give several royal command performances for Queen Victoria, Prince Albert and the Royal Court. At the Royal Mews, the stables and riding house at Buckingham Palace, Cruiser trotted over to Queen Victoria. She smiled and reached out to stroke his face saying, “What a shame Cruiser has been through such hard times up to now.”

Rarey toured the British Isles for three years with Cruiser. By the late fall of 1860, Rarey was anxious to go home. In November, he set sail for America, along with Cruiser, a Thoroughbred mare, and four Shetland ponies.

On a tour of the United States in early 1861, they caused great excitement with shows in the major cities of the East, from Boston to Washington D.C. In April however, the outbreak of the Civil War stopped their performances.

Rarey went back to Ohio, to his family farm in Groveport, about ten miles from Columbus. He had the house enlarged for his mother, and a special stable built for Cruiser and another for the ponies.

During the war years, Rarey went on a few limited tours. He served as an inspector of horses for the Union cavalry, but the stress of his years of travel and performing had left him quite ill. In 1865, Rarey suffered a paralyzing stroke at 38 years of age. He worked hard to regain use of his left side. He was making progress when unfortunately a second stroke in 1866 took his life.