‘Magical’ herd of marsh ponies that ran wild on St. Helena coast is disappearing

Watching the comings and goings of tiny horses that looked right at home grazing on marsh grass or galloping on the beach was “magical,” according to residents of Horse and Little Horse islands who witnessed the unlikely scene over the decades. But those days are gone after a November roundup corralled the last members of the semi-wild herd of “marsh ponies.” They will live out the remainder of their lives on local farms.

The end of the isolated herd that once roamed freely in the wilds of coastal Beaufort County — called ponies but looking more like little horses — was bittersweet for Dr. Venaye Reece. For the last 12 years, the retired veterinarian fed and cared for the horses, which could run like the wind and swim like fish. Watching them, said Reece, who could see the herd from her home, was like “seeing unicorns appear out of the morning mist.”

“They were magical to see on the marsh,” Reece said.

But, she adds, it is also a relief to know that the ponies that once snorted at boundaries will now receive better care in a more hospitable and controlled environment with better oversight.

A unique mix

The arrival of the tiny horses dates to the 1950s with their territory spanning the adjoining Little Horse and Horse islands near St. Helena Island.

The marsh ponies are descendants of Shetland ponies and the marsh tacky, a horse native to South Carolina. They were crossed in the 1950s and 60s by the Charles Gay family, the founders of the Gay Fish Company, who owned farmland in the area. The ponies were once sold as pets to families across the county, Reece said, but over time became a semi-wild herd that adapted to life on the beaches and marshes.

The herd was bigger than life to islanders who marveled at seeing them feed on marsh grass, hoof it through pluff mud, gallop on the beach or swim across a stream.

But the magical marsh ponies couldn’t last forever.

Limited food sources, inbreeding, health concerns, encroaching development and access and oversight concerns took their toll. So the decision was made to place them in foster care at farms owned by Brandi O’Brien of Bluffton and Nichole Bradley of Yemassee.

On Nov. 6, the semi-feral horses were lured with feed into a pipe corral provided by Beaufort County Animal Services, then ushered into a stock trailer and driven away to begin a new life of relative leisure. Some of the seven ponies are close to 20 years old, which is roughly the life span of the ponies, said Reece. Wear and tear of teeth, caused by sand consumed while grazing, was a major limiting factor in their lifespan, she said. Domestic ponies, on the other hand, often live well into their 20s or even 30s.

“They will just keep being in the wild — just in a different location,” said O’Brien, whose Bluffton farm is located in a similar marsh environment where the horses once lived.

Since the ponies arrived, they’ve been feeding on grain and hay. Their hooves have been trimmed. And a veterinarian has “floated” their teeth — or filed them down to make them even.

O’Brien’s place is a good fit for the frisky ponies. She took in a marsh pony several years ago and also has adopted wild mustangs that are rounded up yearly on federal lands in the West. The new arrivals, O’Brien promises, will not be turned into little riding ponies.

“We’re just trying to let them be little wild ponies in a little bit safer environment,” said O’Brien, who is raising money in a “wild horse fund” through the Community Foundation of the Lowcountry to help pay for the expenses of the long-term care.

Bradley, the other landowner that has stepped up to take in ponies, also raising money to care for her new marsh ponies.

Naturals in the marsh

The ponies have been limited to Little Horse Island and Horse Island since the late 1990s and early 2000s. At one point, three herds totaling some 30 ponies ran about on some 100 acres of marshland, wandering up to six miles in a day, based on figures obtained from a GPS collar that was placed on one of the leaders, Reece said.

Boundaries did not matter to the free-roaming herd, and that was one of the problems in caring for them.

“It was pretty hard to keep them totally contained because they would cross water,” Reece said.

Reece and her husband, Dave, who fed and cared for the horses over the years, along with others, tried to raise public awareness about the unique heritage and history of the marsh ponies. Certain lines look like Shetlands, others like the marsh tacky. While small in stature, about waist-high, the ponies look like horses from a distance. The beige, black, chestnut and buckskin-colored ponies had a sturdy build and brains to boot, Reece said, deftly moving about the wild and woolly marsh.

“It wasn’t an easy life, but they were very, very good in being in their natural habitat,” Reece said.

Challenges prompt change

But then the health of landowner Wayne Jernigan began deteriorating, and supervision waned. Reece, who is 75, and her husband Dave, 70, started to slow down, too. Then the ponies began to “age out” and encounter health issues such as severely worn teeth. On top of that, the property was sold and split into smaller parcels creating issues over grazing availability, water access and shelter.

And efforts to create a permanent marsh sanctuary never panned out.

‘Part of county history’

Ponies in North Carolina and Virginia have similar backgrounds to the marsh tacky, Reece says, but the South Carolina ponies are there own distinct breed because of the cross with Shetland ponies and their isolation as a herd in the South Carolina swamps.

“This is what makes them special,” Reece said. “They had adapted over the years to grazing on marsh grass, which most horses wouldn’t. They have lived their entire lives in their own herd, free roaming the area they had, which was a good bit of land.”

At one point, those who worked to save the marsh ponies wanted to bring in outside breeding from ponies in North Carolina to improve the genetics. One of the younger mares, who is 14, still could be bred, Reece says. But at this time, there are no plans to increase the herd, only to provide the necessary care to its remaining members as they grow old.

“It’s a part of the county’s history that I hope won’t be totally lost,” Reece says.