A magnificent stallion with poor timing.
 The old saying, “timing is everything” isn’t necessarily
a positive cliché. After a USET sponsored clinic for long-listed
riders, I took my old Grand Prix horse Monarch to be vetted. He checked out
sound and the funds from the sale went in the bank while I looked for another
competition horse. With additional money I had tucked away from teaching, I
hoped to improve the quality of my next mount.
A dealer I respected called with a prospect at one of the
auctions in Holland. The horse was Vergilius, named after the Roman poet.
He was an Approved KWPN stallion with a good history as a jumper and excellent
sire of performance horses. Vergil was represented to me as a capable FEI
dressage horse who “could
take me to the Pan Am Games in 1990.” Stresses in my personal life resulted
in me ignoring every piece of sound “horse hunting” advice I’d
been given. In a fine example of misplaced trust, I purchased Vergilius sight
unseen.
From outward appearances things could not have looked better.
Bit by Bit Farm was thriving, my show career was taking off and it looked
like true success in the horse business was possible. Appearances can be
deceiving. The whole world came crashing down as Vergil’s sale was going through. My marital
relationship of 14 years began to crumble. Sally Grayburn and I went to pick
Vergil up in Virginia following his quarantine. We stayed overnight to allow
an early start towards home the next morning. At dawn a driving snowstorm moved
in and I became ill. Sally drove most of the trip in the old horse van that
had no working heater. All three of us froze. It wasn’t much of a “welcome
to America” for Vergil. When we got home I immediately gave my new horse
to the barn crew and went to the hospital. There I was admitted and diagnosed
with double pneumonia. While recovering in the hospital the person I trusted
most came for a visit and informed me that our marriage was over. I was discharged
Christmas eve.
 Poor Vergil didn’t receive much attention from me
for several weeks. When I did find the time to ride my new FEI stallion,
things went from bad to worse. It took two rides to realize just how bad
it was. He was resistant and had enormous holes in his training. The first
time I attempted to back a few steps, he locked his jaw and froze. I realized
that I was sitting on a training level horse in a double bridle. There would
be no Pan Am games or anything else with this horse for a very long time.
The most expensive horse of my life became a fancy Dutch Warmblood for my
working students to ride.
The stallion was drop dead gorgeous and had perfect confirmation.
His natural movement was top notch. Vergil also had a wonderful disposition.
No one thought he was a stallion when they first met him. His problems stemmed
from his early training. I discovered scaring in his mouth and permanent
nicks on his tongue. Whoever had pushed him along through the approval process
and over fences hadn’t
been gentle. It’s amazing he remained so affectionate towards humans.
It was only under saddle that his demons seemed to return.
The next two years was a blur of depositions, courtrooms, moving a business
and general turmoil. I began to work Vergil myself in 1993. We did a respectable
job at Fourth level even winning Reserve Champion that the Royal Dressage Festival
in Port Jervis. I accepted an invitation from George Morris to be a demonstration
rider in his Instructor Development Seminar in 1994. Vergil did a fine job.
We showed a few Prix St. Georges classes but his normally splendid attitude
soured at competitions.
 In 1996 Vergil was seventeen and I sold him to Mary Thompson in Wisconsin
where he continues to stand today. I bred him to a few thoroughbreds myself
and he passed along his good looks and temperament to every one. With a barn
full of horses, Vergil is the one I chose to give my nineteen-day-old daughter
her first ride. His offspring have competed at the highest levels of jumping
and FEI level dressage in Holland. The babies he sired in the states all seem
to have bright futures. Vergilius clearly had the mind and body to excel at
either discipline. It wasn’t his fault that a trainer with uncaring hands
spoiled his trust in riders.
Under different circumstances Vergil and I might have
made a good team. As it was he needed a trainer who would spend countless hours
teaching him to depend on, not fear, the hands of a sensitive rider. Unfortunately,
the first few months I owned Vergil I steadily lost trust in everyone and everything.
At least he now enjoys his work and does American sport horse breeding a great
service by passing along his tremendous genetic qualities.
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