The Medieval Horse, Anastasija Ropa, Reaktion Books, £16.95

You can’t get very far studying the medieval era before you start encountering horses. True, there were some civilisations across the globe at this time where horses were not indigenous, but for the most part, when humans wanted to get stuff done, or wished to move from one place to another, they needed to enlist their four-legged friends – irrespective of whether their four-legged friends were willing or not. Consequently, from the nomadic peoples of Central Asia to the horses imported by merchants into India, and the mounted archers of the Muslim world, this was without doubt a horse-rich era.

In many ways, the modern equivalent of the medieval horse is the car. Just as cars can reflect their owner’s purchasing power, status, and sense of taste, so too did a horse and its tack send out all manner of signals concerning its rider to contemporary onlookers. Equally, just as a vast range of vehicles performs a range of tasks today, so, too, in the medieval period could horses carry out functions spanning from ploughing and baggage-carrying to conveying the super-rich in awe-inspiring style.

The car analogy works well in many contexts and appears in Anastasija Ropa’s fabulous exploration of medieval equine and equestrian culture, The Medieval Horse. Even so, this comparison has its limits. As Ropa notes from the outset, we live in a technologically driven society in which our preconceptions can lead us to interpret horses simply as tools or modes of transport, while passing over the fact that they were also living creatures who could serve as companions and friends. Vehicles cannot perform these latter functions in quite the same way (although given the attention lavished by some people on their car, it is natural to wonder), and for this reason, exploring the bonds between horse and rider requires us, to some extent, to step outside our own thought-world.

In content, The Medieval Horse offers a broad introduction and survey covering the history of the horse in Europe and Asia during the medieval era. It is organised into six central chapters that address a range of component themes. These embrace topics such as the many types of horses at this time, their roles in society, their equipment, wild horses, horse breeding, and their functions in warfare. Later chapters focus on some especially famous horses and riders, as well as discussing the spiritual significance of the horse and its religious role in various cultures.

Within these pages, we learn a great deal, including several points of interest that may challenge modern depictions. For example, women did not necessarily ride side-saddle in Medieval Europe. They could ride both astride and with both legs to one side, but the earliest ancestors of a specifically designed side-saddle didn’t appear until the 16th century.

Another longstanding question on which Ropa provides helpful discussion is the size of medieval warhorses.  Should we imagine huge animals, not dissimilar to the large workhorses of later centuries, or were they much smaller? Ropa concludes that medieval warhorses weren’t especially tall and, across much of Eurasia, rarely exceeded 14 hands (for comparison, modern racing horses can reach 17-18 hands). Data from the UK suggests that, on average, horses were under 14 hands but got a bit bigger by the end of the period. Ropa is very clear, however, that height does not necessarily equal power and that a horse’s build and the length of its back were also crucial within the broader calculation of a horse’s strength and carrying ability.

Across its constituent chapters, The Medieval Horse shows close sensitivity to different cultures and their varied use of horses, with her analysis ranging from the Rus’ territories to China, and from Europe to India and the Middle East. Cultural differences in the employment of horses could take many forms. For example, while European knights showed a marked preference for riding stallions, rather than mares and geldings, in many parts of the Muslim world – notably among nomadic communities – this preference was not in evidence.

Of all the things I hadn’t anticipated from a history of the medieval horse, the relationship between horses and moles is one of this book’s most fascinating eye-openers. According to traditional Livonian practices, drawing on local magical beliefs, a young foal should be rubbed with a live mole to prevent it from becoming thin. This kind of belief was not confined solely to Livonia; moles also feature in the medical treatments recommended for horses in Early Modern Italy and in a Middle-English book of equine lore.

Another question that, like the size of warhorses, has a legacy spanning to the present day concerns the use of horsemeat for human consumption. Pope Gregory III in the eighth century evidently thought this was unacceptable and banned horse meat in Germany, but opinions remained divided on the subject. Some physicians considered horse blood to be an important medical ingredient. The close association between horses and humans, rather like that between humans and dogs, also weighed on the question of a horse’s edibility.

Moving into the realms of folklore, there are many fantastical equine beasts, including Pegasus and unicorns, and it is natural to wonder about the origins of such creatures. Regarding unicorns, in the medieval era these were not always the slender, graceful animals imagined today, and opinions and descriptions showed considerable variation over time and space. Some seem to have drawn upon depictions of rhinoceroses, but others had rather different ideas.

Overall, Ropa provides an engaging, authoritative overview of the history of the medieval horse. Liberally scattered with fascinating examples and stories, while sensitive to different cultures’ equestrian cultures and thought worlds, there is much here to praise. A particular strength is how she moves so smoothly from the mundane world of the stables, the tack room, and the horse market to the more mystical realms of mythology and legend.