Horsepower took on whole new meaning

Second of two parts. Read part one.

During the second decade of the 20th century, livery stable owners in Charlottesville started seeing the development of a troubling pattern.

Slowly at first, and then with alarming acceleration, the businessmen watched as motorized vehicles began to outnumber horses on city streets. The odor of “compressed hay” that many folks regarded as perfume was being overwhelmed by exhaust fumes.

The musical commands of “gee” and “haw” from men with fists filled with leather reins were being replaced by squawking horns and backfiring engines.

At first, some of the livery owners tried to survive by adapting to the rapidly changing times.

Their strategy was to continue to rent and board horses, and also welcome the motor trade. They started selling tires, buckets of gasoline and bulk oil and, in some cases, even did repair work.

Ending reign of reins

But horses never took to the brash and boisterous newcomers. Perhaps they instinctively realized that the metal contraptions were transforming them irreversibly from necessities into luxuries.

One after another, the big wooden doors of the livery stables began closing on a treasured way of life. It didn’t matter how well the business was run, how lovingly the animals were cared for or any of that.

The end for livery stables was coming with the certainty of nightfall, and no amount of tears or prayers could stop it.

And it wasn’t just the stables that were being sucked down into the heartless whirlpool of modernization.

Other trades hobbled

The Way Carriage Company at Third and Water Streets was another casualty. It was opened in 1905 by C.T. Way, C.H. Walker and R.A. Watson, each of whom had contributed to the $25,000 startup cost.

Way had learned the carriage-making trade in the New York City factory of J.B. Brewster. He first plied his craft in Roanoke for several years before moving to Charlottesville.

The company specialized in making business wagons, but also produced “all descriptions of vehicles.” It also had a wagon and carriage repair shop, where the ringing of blacksmiths’ hammers sounded throughout the day.

The combustion engine also brought about the death knell for Goodyear & Robertson, which touted itself as the “horsemen’s headquarters.” Among the products it made and sold were harnesses, saddles, bridles, collars, pads, halters, whips and even horse blankets.

The business’ sale rooms and workshops took up a good part of Fourth Street between Main and Market Streets. One of its specialties was making English saddles that were said to be without peer and the best money could buy.

The firm also was the agent for the famous Columbus Buggy Company’s vehicles.

The different models included surreys, broughams and doctors’ phaetons as well as light, medium and heavy carriages.

Of course, horses made all these businesses necessary, so there obviously had to be places to purchase them.

One of the city’s finest establishments for this purpose was Charlottesville Horse and Mule Company, located at 106 E. Market St.

A person didn’t have to have a thick wad of cash to purchase an animal from J.S. Farrar, the manager of the business.

He had a reputation for wanting only a fair price for his stock, be it draft horses, thoroughbreds, mules, ponies or whatever.

Like most of his peers Farrar loved horses, and that’s why he went into a horse-related business.

One can only imagine the angst these horse-loving businessmen must have felt as they came to the realization that their way of life was doomed, and they were helpless to do anything about it.

The long-held sacred bond between man and horse never could be completely severed, but the relationship was being altered in a profound way.

As the 20th century progressed, city kids began growing up without ever having the opportunity of feeling the perfectly soft muzzle of a horse or hearing horses’ steps on city streets.

No longer could a person glance out a window on a frosty morning and gauge the temperature by the steam issuing from the nostrils of a passing steed.

The sweet smell of fresh hay went too, along with that of oiled leather and the deep, earthy scent of the horses themselves.

When Charlottesville’s last recognizable livery stable burned to the ground on Dec. 16, 1950, it was called “one of the city’s less-noted historic structures.”

By then livery stables for the most part only existed in memories and on movie lots.

The rundown wooden structure was practically worthless in a monetary sense.

The ground it stood on at the northwest corner of the busy intersection of East Market Street and Meade Avenue was infinitely more valuable.

But what the old livery stable truly represented had nothing to do with dollars and cents.

On that cold winter day, some unnamable, precious thing of the heart had died in flames and black ash —  and most people didn’t even notice.