Exmoor Ponies
Exmoor Ponies
by Stuart Harrison of Devon, UK
photos by Shaun Barr
As I have mentioned previously within these pages, my wife and I are fortunate to live close to the wild expanses of Exmoor National Park in Devon, England. Amongst it’s many zoological treasures are Exmoor sheep and Red Deer, but for a horseman such as me, it is the wild Exmoor ponies ranging across open moorland that are perhaps the most evocative sight, a living thread that ties the present-day to the deep past.
To the pedant, Exmoor Ponies are not truly “wild” in the strict biological sense; most are semi-feral, owned and monitored by local farmers and breeders, but they live year-round on the open hills and combes, shaping the landscape as surely as the weather does. Tough, self-possessed, and perfectly suited to their environment, Exmoors are both a rare native breed and a keystone of Exmoor’s conservation story.
You can recognize an Exmoor pony at a glance. They are compact and sturdy, standing roughly 11 to 12 hands high, with dense bone and big, kind eyes partially sheltered by fleshy lids that shed rain and wind, often nicknamed “toad eyes.” Their coats are shades of brown, bay, or dark dun, with lighter “mealy” patches around the muzzle, eyes, and flanks, and black points on the mane, tail, and legs. White markings are rare. Their double winter coat is famously weatherproof, the top layer shedding rain so effectively that droplets bead and roll off like water from a Barbour waxed jacket. Even the tail is practical: a broad, lowset “snow-chute” shape that channels runoff away from the hindquarters.
These traits don’t come from a show ring; they have evolved from centuries of life on the moor. Exmoor sits across west Somerset and north Devon, it’s high heather plateaus, rough grass, and deep wooded valleys are cut by fast rivers. Winters are wet, cold and windy, summers are often dry up on the tops, and the grazing can be rough and sparse. Exmoor Ponies are expert foragers, browsing gorse and heather when grass is limited, nibbling bilberry bushes and molina grass (a species of bog grass native to Exmoor), and using their lips with surgical precision to avoid thorns. Their grazing keeps the heathland from being swallowed by scrub. That matters to the ecology of Exmoor, the open mosaic of heather, grasses, and bog plants supports ground-nesting birds, rare butterflies, and a whole suite of moorland specialists. I often think, when I hear the odd “expert” banging on about what must be done to encourage bio-diversity in England, that a few less people and a few more herds of wild Exmoor ponies might improve things!
Socially, Exmoor Ponies are classic herd animals. The core unit is a band of mares and their offspring, typically led by an experienced mare who knows the best crossing points, the sheltering combes, and the way back to familiar ground when fog rolls in. Stallions hold territories in the breeding season, and youngsters learn the moor by shadowing their mothers and aunties. Because most moorland herds are “hefted” (accustomed and habituated to a particular range) they show a strong sense of place. That’s one reason that come autumn, the “gathers” can proceed with minimal fuss; the ponies, driven quietly by riders, tend to drift toward the commons they know.
This brings us to the rhythm of Exmoor pony management. Each year, commoners and breeders round up bands of Ponies from the open moor to check their condition, worm if needed, and handle foals. Some young-stock will be sold into domesticated lives. There was once upon a time a cull of excess numbers, but now, such is the demand for riding, driving, and conservation grazing elsewhere that only the obviously malformed or clearly diseased are slaughtered. The breed’s studbook is closely managed, helping maintain genetic diversity in a population that, historically, has waxed and waned. Twentieth-century dips in numbers left the Exmoor classified as rare, and while the outlook has improved compared with its leanest decades, the breed still relies on thoughtful stewardship and a network of committed owners both on and off the moor.
If you’re picturing a placid, teddy-bear like pony, biddable, sweet natured and easy to manage, think again. Exmoors are intelligent, selfreliant, and often very reserved with strangers. That makes sense for an animal whose survival depends on reading the weather, the terrain, and the intentions of every creature it meets. If you are ever out on the moor, they should be observed, not approached; feeding them disrupts their natural behavior and can cause conflict between horses. Give any band a wide berth, keep your dogs on a lead around ponies, and whatever you do don’t get between between a mare and her foal. The best sightings for me happen when you let the animals be themselves, watching a herd cresting a hill, spotting their silhouettes against the sky, or watching mothers with their newly born foals helping them take their first tentative steps.
Their contribution to the glory of this wildest of England’s wild places, goes beyond Exmoor’s boundaries. Exmoor ponies are increasingly employed in conservation grazing projects across the UK and in mainland Europe, tidying rank grassland, maintaining dunes, or helping restore the balance between wood and pasture. They’re hardy and lightfooted enough to avoid churning wet soils as heavily as cattle might. In woodlands, they browse bramble and saplings, opening the ground for wild flowers and invertebrates and on meadows they create a patchwork of short and long swards that boosts plant diversity. In an era when their is much enthusiasm for nature and the recovery of wild spaces, they are our key workers.
The breed’s cultural story is just as compelling. Exmoor folklore and literature often includes the ponies in stories of the Moor and the folk inhabiting it, depicting them as noble creatures, more of a companion than a natural ornament to the landscape. For generations, farmers used them as sure-footed transport, to haul peat or as pack horses to bring goods down to the coast or into South Molton. That partnership still lingers in the way locals speak of “their” herds. At autumn “gatherings,” both volunteers and spectators are drawn to this unique spectacle. Breed societies promote breeding standards, public education and welfare, often reminding visitors that the moor’s ponies are not pets and that human kindness is best expressed through distance and respect.
For riders and handlers who bring Exmoors into their yard, the same qualities that make them moorland survivors make them excellent small horses: tough feet, big hearts, economical eaters, and sharp minds. However, their savvy wildness means that they are not the easiest of horses to train, and Steph and I have often enjoyed some barely concealed hilarity at a show or gymkhana where a feisty exmoor gets the better of its rider or handler!
Seeing Exmoor ponies in their home landscape is a truly special experience. The National Park’s pattern of high commons, ancient hedgerows, and twisting lanes means ponies can often appear suddenly—around a bend fringed with ferns, or across a shallow ford where the wagtails dart. On wide tops like Winsford Hill, Withypool Common, or Haddon Hill, you have a good chance of encountering a band at a distance. On blustery days they tuck into combes for shelter; in the summer heat they may seek the edge of woodland or linger near the River Barle. Dawn and dusk are often the best time to see them in their natural glory.
Wild Exmoor ponies are part of the fabric of Exmoor in the same way as the glorious Red Deer, the beauty of blooming heather, and the ancient barrows cresting the highest hilltops. They’re not museum pieces, pinned with a label; they’re living, breathing actors in a dynamic system where grazing, climate, and human stewardship interact to create the Exmoor that my wife and I both love. I often think that a regular, direct, and visceral contact with nature is an vital antidote to some of the madness of modern life. Things like Exmoor Ponies matter far more than this or that economic policy, government pronouncements or the endless wittering’s of politicians. For all the talk of human conservation work, it’s things like the Exmoor Ponies that truly hold biodiversity in balance, and carry a line of natural heritage on into the future. They remind us that “wildness” can exist alongside people when we respect nature’s boundaries. So if you ever get down to our neck of the woods, stand on a ridge and watch them move, heads down, manes lifted by the wind, stretching out into the distance and you’ll understand the pull they exert on visitors and locals alike.
photography by Shaun Barr
www.ShaunBarrPhotography.co.uk
