Caroline (Pulsifer) Siebens (1881-1970) grew up in Yarmouth Port during the late 1800s and early 1900s. Here she shares her memories of the family’s horses and her father, town doctor Thomas B. Pulsifer. Caroline was one of the founders of HSOY and a dear friend to the organization.

People knew one another's horses then, as we know cars today. The earliest horse I remember was Lightfoot, named for my father's favorite mount in the Civil War. She was raised in Maine by my uncle, Dr Horatio Pulsifer, of Auburn. She was a fast horse and mother of two horses that I remember well, Brandywine and Marguerite. She died when I was about 10 years old. I remember the boys at school saying sadly, as if she were a personal friend, “Lightfoot is dead.”

Brandywine was a red horse. People thought it strange that an advocate of temperance should name a horse not for one but for two alcoholic drinks. Of course there was the Battle of Brandywine in the Revolutionary War. Some more charitably inclined supposed he was named for that event.

Dr Arthur Bullard of Wilkesboro Pennsylvania, Father's chum at medical school, referred to Marguerite as that “wild horse you keep in your barn,” but Father had brought her up by hand and to him Marguerite could do no wrong. I distinctly remember once when I was riding her horseback, she lashed out at an empty cart which rattled behind her and went by with a bang. I don't know who was more terrified - Marguerite at the noisy monster approaching her from the rear, or me afraid of an ignominious as well as dangerous descent to the new hard macadamized road. We were all broken-hearted when she died in her twenties, even my mother who feared and disliked her. “But I didn't want her to die,” she sobbed. Marguerite and Lightfoot were buried down in the field under the old apple tree.

There were the two Kittys, one white and one sorrel, of Morgan stock, sleek, plump and sweet-tempered. White Kitty was sold to a Yarmouth man but mother and I carried on so that Father had to go and buy her back for more than he had sold her for. My grandmother owned the other Kitty and much enjoyed driving about with her harnessed to a buggy. Don was a large white horse, a pacer, that Father saw while he was dragging a fish cart and bought him for me to ride.

This photo of May Howes of Yarmouth Port and her pony Merrilegs from 1896 is likely similar to Caroline’s description below of her donkey & cart.

In addition to Don, I had a donkey and donkey cart. He was supposed to be named Ned but was always referred to as “the donkey.” He had been branded at some point in his life and had probably been an animal in a circus where people were offered money if they could stay on his back. With a saddle “the donkey” was perfectly gentle, but no boy in town could ride him bareback. As he grew older and lazier he would decide he’d gone far enough and would wedge himself between two trees where he’d refuse to budge. If he went ahead he would have smashed the donkey cart. The regular procedure was to unharness him from the cart, lead him through the opening between the trees, then re-harness him. He seemed to forget during the process why he had stopped and trotted gaily off again, especially if he were headed toward home.

One of the family pictures taken during a noon school recess when I was a high school girl, shows me on Marguerite, Gorham on Don, Father frowning after his efforts to stage the group, mother in a calico wrapper protesting against the whole affair, but compromising by putting on her best hat with feathers. Helen had shut her eyes tight but otherwise was charming in her white fur bonnet and red coat with white fur, and baby Anne was taking a nap and so escaped.

The photograph described above. L-R: Caroline, Dr. Pulsifer, Mrs. Pulsifer, Helen, Gorham. circa 1896.

Usually my father drove in the buggy, but he also, to spare the horse but not himself, used a light gig with two wheels and no back support. In winter when there was no snow but plenty of north winds he used the so-called cage, a square coach-like affair that shut up tight but was unsuited to rapid transit. What one gained in protection from the cold was lost by the slow travel that kept one out in the severe weather for a much longer time.

There was a sleigh for snowy days. With its cheery bells it was a delightful way to travel. Sometimes in the worst weather Father rode horseback. The horses knew the way and Father could take a nap as he rode through the woods to Dennis, awakened only when the horse stopped suddenly because it too had drowsed off!

One of my best recollections is of the sleigh ride with Father to Dennis, East Dennis across to South and West Dennis, and then to South Yarmouth where we joined the happy company of racing sleighs, a usual site in that village, on a winter day. Of course Marguerite led them all. That was a day to remember and Father thought it was worth a day's absence from school. The snow was unusual in amount with fine weather to enjoy it.

Our pleasure carriage in the summer, spring, and fall was the two-seated Democrat with a fringe on the top. To us a surrey was a double buggy with a low step and with no fringe whatsoever. Occasionally we had a long trip to go on, like Cotuit or Chatham. We'd love to go with Father on Sunday afternoons although it did involve a good deal of waiting while he visited patients. Our very religious neighbors, the Macys, said that it was all right for Father to drive on Sunday as he was engaged in deeds of mercy but that the rest of us were Sabbath breakers and would likely come to no good end as we rode solely for pleasure!

Excerpted from “Riding Around With Father” by Caroline R. Siebens

Caroline attended Yarmouth Schools, graduated from Wellesley College in 1902 and became a school teacher, then librarian in the Boston area. She later returned to Yarmouth and was a librarian at the South Yarmouth Library until her retirement.