Bay Notice Board
Events Calendar for the Cleveland Bay
Shows and events for the year with direct links… (courtesy of Southern Cleveland Bay Club website.)
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CLEVELAND BAY PERFORMANCE SCHEME
Do you compete or hunt a registered Pure or Part Bred Cleveland Bay ?
If you and your Cleveland are taking part in any disciplines… showing, dressage, eventing, show jumping, driving, endurance, la trec, hunter trials, team chasing, jump cross or hunting. (The list goes on!) then why not come and get involved in the Performance Scheme.
The purpose of the scheme is to recognize your efforts as an individual, for being out there utilising the assets of the Cleveland Bay and to highlight the horses that are active.
Its simple to get involved. All you have to do, is send for a points card (which has easy instructions on the back) and record your results or hunting hours and return it to me at the end of the season. For the highest placed; Prize Money, Rosettes and Trophies are presented annually in October.
The scheme is split into Summer (1st April – 30th Sept) and Winter (1st October – 30th March) sections. We ask for a small entry fee of £6 per horse, to help cover costs.
For entry cards or further information please contact:
Sue Bulmer – 16 Gill Street, Guisborough, Yorkshire, TS14 6EH
Tel: Home 01287 637758 – Mobile 07790 128053
Donations or sponsorship trophies from any interested parties, are always hugely appreciated.
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WWW. RE-EDUCATING PEOPLE ABOUT MISUNDERSTOOD CLEVELAND BAY !!!
The Southern Cleveland Bay Club and theThe Cleveland Bay Horse Society both have wonderful sites these days.
As if all this wasn’t enough, the International Cleveland Sporthorse Group has also been created. It’s a great idea and has so much potential to show the non believers what a Cleveland can do. Get sending !
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Poem – The Offside Leader
This is the wish as he told it to me, of gunner McPherson of Battery B…..
I want no ribbon nor medals to wear, I’ve done my bit, and I’ve had my share,
Of filth and fighting, blood and tears, and doubt and death in the last four years.
My team and I were among the first, contemptible few when the war clouds burst.
We sweated our gun through dust and heat, we hauled her back in the big retreat.
With weary horses and short of shell, turning our backs on them that was hell!
That was at Mons, but we came back from there , with shining horses and shells to spare,
And much I’ve suffered and much I’ve seen, from Mons to Mons and the miles between.
But I want no medals nor ribbons to wear. All I ask for my fighting share,
Is that England should give to me, the ‘Off Side Leader Of Battery B’.
She was a round- ribbed, blaze faced, brown. Shy as a country girl in town.
Scared at the gangway. Scared at the quay. Lathered in sweat at the sight of the sea.
But brave as a lion and strong as a bull, with the mud at the hub in an up hill pull.
She learned her job, as the best ones do and we hadn’t been more than a week or two,
before she would stand like a rooted oak, while bullets whined and shrapnel broke.
And a mile of the ridges rocked in glee, as the shells went over from Battery B.
We swayed with the battle back and forth, lugging the timbers south and north.
Round us the world was red with flame, as we gained or gave in the changing game.
But forwards or backwards, losses or gains, there were empty saddles and idle chains.
For death took some on the galloping track and beckoned some from the bivouac.
Til all was left, were my mare and me, of those who went over with Battery B.
My mates have gone and left me alone, their horses are heaps of ashes and bone.
Of all who went out in courage and speed, was left but the little brown mare in the lead.
The little brown mare with a blaze on her face, who would die of shame at a slack in her trace,
Who would swing the team at the least command, who would charge a house at the clap of a hand.
Who would turn from a shell to nuzzle my knee, the ‘Off Side Leader of Battery B’.
But I want no medals nor ribbons to wear. If I’ve done my bit, it was only my share.
If a man has his pride and the good of his cause. And the love of his home, they are unwritten laws.
But what of the horses who worked by our side? Who in faith, as of children, fought with us and died?
If, through it all, I have been true to my task, I ask for one honour and this only I ask.
The gift of one gunner, I know of a place, where I’d leave a brown mare with ablaze on her face.
Neath low leafy lime trees, mid cocks-foot and clover. To dream, with the dragon-flies glistening over.
This was given to me by the lovely, late Fred Joiner. Every time I read it I well up for all reasons… RIP
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