At first horses were stabled near the stations. When the alarm sounded, it took valuable time to unlock the barn, fetch the steeds and harness them to the engine. Before long, the horses lived at the station and the reluctance to accept them was replaced by a deep affection for the noble animals.

The stalls were positioned behind or next to the rigs. In 1871, a quick hitch was developed. Two years later, Charles E. Berry, a Massachusetts firefighter, created a hanging harness with quick-locking hames. His invention was so popular he left the fire department and sold his patented Berry Hames and Collars nationwide. Not every horse could serve as a fire horse. The animals needed to be strong, swift, agile, obedient and fearless. At the scene, they needed to stand patiently while embers and flames surrounded them. They needed to remain calm while the firefighters fought the blaze. This was the case in all weather conditions and in the midst of a multitude of distractions.

The fire departments carefully selected their horses. Veterinarians for the departments evaluated each animal. Both stallions and mares were eligible to serve.
In Detroit, weight requirements were issued for the animals. Those pulling hose wagons must weigh 1,100 pounds, to haul a steamer 1,400 pounds, and to cart a hook and ladder 1,700 pounds. Stations also tried to create matched teams of two and three horses when possible. Some cities had training stables but most provided on-the-job training. Departments added horse ambulances and horseshoeing wagons to their city’s rigs. A horse might work at a station for four to ten years.

In the fall of 1872, a form of distemper, called epizootic spread among the horses. Within a period of twenty-four hours, 300 horses died in Buffalo. The epidemic spread rapidly to many cities. The cities relied heavily on horses for transportation and became paralyzed. Fire became a major concern. It was late October in Boston. Out of a total of 75-90 horses, four had died and 22 were unfit for duty. Until the epidemic ended, firefighters with the aid of citizen volunteers often found it necessary to drag the equipment to fires manually.

It was a sad day at the fire station when a horse was declared unfit for duty. Many retired fire horses continued to work for the city in less strenuous positions. Some were put out to pasture. Occasionally the noble beasts were put up for public auction. The gallant steeds might be purchased by junk drivers and delivery men. At times, the fire horses would forget their new roles and charge down the streets hauling a wagon after hearing a fire gong.

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Well here in my home town of Douglas Wyoming we had a fire horse that also doubled at the delivery horse for the local grocery store. Upon hearing the bell on top of city hall he would make a mad dash to the station. This all happening while he still had the delivery cart attatched to him. There are many stories of groceries being strewn about the streets with the delivery boy running behind cussing him in Swedish. He would then wait at the station for members to show up, unhook him from the delivery cart and attatch him to the hose wagon.
IT must have added quite a bit to the ruckuss in general with members running to the station as well..lol ...Its also well documented in larger citys often "fire horses" who were retired By the Vet staff from Running fires , often would take off with they're milk wagon, or trasnports wagon, buckboard, when the horse heard the rigs taking in a run... It must have been kinda funny seeinga hose wagon. a hose wagon, a steamer , a steamer, a tiller , a chiefs buggy come running by each clanging thundering hooves steam whistles on the steamers tooting and along comes the Milk wagon at full gallop, Bottles clanging and bouncing around breaking and falling off as they go, Followed by the milkman on foot chasing the rig with his bottle rack in hand cursing the horse ....lol
I wish there were still a few of those wagons around. They must have been beautiful, the wagons rolling down the street, preceeded by the gorgeous team of horses. Don't get me wrong, today's engines look wonderful. But somehow I don't think they'd hold a candle to those teams and wagons.
although Not in the way Your discussing, Jason, at least we do have some folks in this world that look to preserve some of the past..and own or work to keep spme of these steamers, or hand tubs, antique Motorized and that also includes guys like Merrit That chose to start this forum.. And remember as Beautiful as they were , remember the streets were full of land mines, The houses full of flys and Odors.....Rookie had to muck the stalls, shovel coal as well as all night watchs as well as house duties....lol YOu have to remember the "bad"parts too...
Great story! We have two fire wagons at our Dept. I always wondered about the horses that pulled them. Those were the days!!!
Funny if you were a bi stander maybe not if you were the milkman...lol.. this is well documented all over the cities who had horse drawn rigs..lol
FLASH THE FIREMANS STORY

Flash was a white foot sorrel that ran on engine three. Not much on stable manners-an average horse to see. Noble in his methods, strong in loves and hates. Not very much respected or popular amongst his mates.
Dull and moody an sleepy on off and quiet days. Full of turbulent sour looks and small sarcastic ways.
Scowled and bit his partner and banged the stable floor, with other tricks to designate life a bore.
But when it is day or nighttime, he heard the alarm bell ring. He would jump for his place in his harness with a regular tiger’s spring, and watch with nervous shivers, the clasp of buckle and band. Until it was plainly evident, he would like to give a hand.
And when the word was given, away he would rush and tear, as if a thousand witches were rumpling up his hair. And wake his mate up crazy with his majestic charm. Till every hoof beat sounded a regular fire alarm!
Never a horse a jockey would worship and admire. Like Flash in front of his engine a racing to the fire. Never a horse so lazy, so delaying and so slack, as Flash upon his return to quarters drawing the engine back.
Now when the different horses get tender footed and old, there ain’t much use in our business, so Flash was finally sold to a quite respectful milkman, who found it not so fine, a hossin one of Gods creatures outside it’s natural line.
Seems as if I could see Flash a moping along here now, feeling that he was simply assistant to a cow.
But sometime he would imagine he heard the alarm bell ring. And jump and rear for a minute before they could hold him in.
And once in spite of his master he strolled amongst us chaps to talk with other horses of former fires perhaps. Whereas the milkman kicked him wherefore us boys to please H e begged that horses pardon upon his bended knees.
But one day for a fire we were making a dash. Both of the horses we had on somewhat resembling Flash.
Yelling and a ringing and a rushing with excellent voice and heart. We passed that poor old fellow a tugging away on his cart.
If ever I saw an old horse grow upward into a new. If ever I saw a driver whose traps behind him flew It was that old horse a romping and rushing down the track And that respectable milkman a trying to hold him back.
Away he dashed like a cyclone for the head of number three He gained the lead and kept it and steered his journey free. Dodging wagons and horses and still in the keenest silk .Furnished all the neighborhood with good respectable milk.
Crowds yelling and running and vainly hollering whoa. Milkman bracing and swearing with never a bit of show. Firemen laughing and chuckling and hollering Good go in! Horse a getting down to it and rushing along like sin.
Quickly came to where the fire was halted with a thud. Sent that respectful milkman head over heels in mud. Watched till he sees the engine properly working there. After which he relinquished all interest in the affair.
Moped and wilted and dawdled faded away once more. Took up his old occupation of voting life a bore.
Laid down in his harness and I am sorry to say The milkman had drawn there, carried his body away.
Now that’s the whole of my story, I have seen more than once or twice. That poor dead animal actions is full of human advice. And if you were to ask me what Flash taught I will simply answer you then, That poor old horse was a symbol of some intelligent men.

Written by Will Carleton

Submitted by Clyde Chapman
That horse sounds exactly how i am.
For some more information about fire horses - and some amazing video showing fire horses and the "quick-hitch" process see:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5GWgDOgfYQ

This is one of approximately 30 short videos produced by the Aurora Regional Fire Museum (www.AuroraRegionalFireMuseum.org) for the exhibit "Getting There • Getting Water • Getting Rescued 150 years of the tools and technology used to fight fires and save lives"
The Toledo Fire Museum has some fire-horse stories and information on their website....

http://www.toledofiremuseum.com/jimhorse/jimhorse.htm
As an addendum to the Poem "Flash" -- I submit....

The Auto Fire Engine
By J. W. Foley

"Yes, things are changed, doggone the luck!"
said the driver of Engine Three.
"For they're goin' to fires with an auto truck
and th' horse--he's a used-to-be.
It was sugar and oats and a shiny coat
that was dappled and smooth and clean
And now it's a lump in th' driver's throat
and a tankful of gasoline.

"There was romance then in a driver's work
and somethin' you loved right well;
It was snap of a collar, a cry and jerk
and off in the stress pell-mell.
It was 'Steady, Charlie!' and 'Come on, Dick!'
It was sparks where th' hooves came down;
and many a time that it turned th' trick
of savin' a slice of town.

"There was somethin' then in th' stalls back there
that was human - or purty near;
Big eyes and a shiny coat of hair,
and a beast that a man held dear.
As a life-long friend - but th' auto truck
is oustin' 'em slick and clean.
For oil and grease and a lot of muck
and a tankful of gasoline.

"And a driver, it used to be, could stand
and pet 'em and rub 'em down,
and feed 'em sugar outen his hand,
dapple and gray and brown,
but now it's a crank and a chug and wheeze,
and a rattle and roar and grind,
with a smell of gas to make you sneeze,
and a blue smoke out behind.

"Th' march of science along th' track--
I guess you might call it so;
but gi' me them old fire horses back
and le' me hitch up and go!
For a horse was a human sort of thing,
when he ran with that old machine;
but an auto truck for a fire-by jing!
and a tankful of gasoline.

"Then he rubbed down its nickeled and varnished coat
and he shined up its great glass eye;
he polished the brass with a lump in his throat
and a sorrowful, long-drawn sigh.
He lifted the hood where its metal soul
lay hidden and all unseen,
then unscrewed a cap from a yawning hole
and fed it some gasoline!
In My Company 1863 and 1906 habe two pairs of beatyfully Litlle brother (Horses) Palique Centanario, today only remembers picture and mechanic bagon.

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