AUDIO READING FROM THE COLLECTION: THE BYERLEY TURK

When Moyra Donaldson first saw saw the equine paintings of Wexford artist, Paddy Lennon, she fell in love with the strength of the art and the powerful depictions of horses. With the powerful feeing that her poetry reverberated with his art, she contacted Paddy and asked if he might be interested in working together on a project. Blood Horses is the result of their collaboration and reflects not only both artists’ mastery of their medium, but also their lifelong experience with all things equine.

Lennon’s paintings combine with Donaldson’s poetry to evoke the history of our human relationship with horses. Central to the book is the story of the three Arab stallions that were the founding fathers of the modern thoroughbred, The Byerley Turk, The Darley Arabian and the Godolphin Barb. All three stallions have fascinating stories and the Byerley Turk has Irish connections, winning at Downpatrick Races before being ridden at the Battle of the Boyne by his owner, Captain Robert Byerley.

The stunning book, with a foreword from Cathal Beale of the Irish National Stud, also looks at the part that horses play in the lives of those who work with them and ride them, the glories and tragedies, our partnership with them and their effect on us.

An exhibition of the paintings has toured Ireland, including the RDS, Downpatrick Racecourse and Galway Festival.

Linen bound hardback limited edition also available, signed by both artists.

The Byerley Turk

1680–1706

Foaled in an electrical storm,

the Turk slid from his mother

into a world that cracked light

across his retinas; his first breath

was air that crashed with sound,

so he was forever after unafraid

of thunder, gunshot, musket flash

and cannon; all the alarms of war.

For the Ghazi horsemen

he was the only kind of horse

worth riding, one of the fast horses

of their ancestors from the East,

refined down generations.

see a horse bathe in the lake of itself

stand up in the air in a song of itself

otherness in the eye of the horse

What a pleasing trophy

for Captain Robert Byerley

of the Sixth Dragoon Guards,

this tall, bay horse of courage

and elegance, taken

from a fallen Turkish Sipahi

in the fighting at Buda;

then loaded onto a vessel

of the mighty Dutch Fleet,

bound for Carrickfergus.

On through Ireland

with the Captain,

and a bit of sport along the way.

The Turk

wins the Silver Bell

at Downpatrick Races,

local runners left behind

like heavy-footed farm horses.

The Turk accepts the roar of voices

and the slaps of praise

as no less than his birthright.

in the shape of a horse

in the shape

of a story of horses

strike up fountains

in dry places

Then on to the next battle

to be waged for William of Orange.

See the churn of mud,

the water, blood,

splashing up from

his high-stepping hooves

as he crosses the Boyne,

ears pricked, eyes shining

with battle light.

lend me your courage,

lend me your lineage,

lend me your dark eye to drown in

The Turk, retired at last from war,

stood at stud at Middridge Grange

and Goldsborough Hall,

sired Jigg, who sired Partner,

who sired Tartar, then Herod,

Highflyer, Florizel, Woodpecker,

Buzzard, through Sultan, Flying Dutchman,

and down to Nijinsky, Frankel –

lie down on earth

feel the hoof-beats

echo beneath

centuries of horses

crossing the winning line

of the 2000 Guineas, the Derby,

the Oaks, the St Leger,

necks stretched, nostrils fluted for breath,

hearts pounding; our thoroughbreds,

ridden by feathers of men

with legs and arms of steel.

Captain Byerley wept when he buried

his venerable Turk in Yorkshire soil.

bury me with a bridle at my head

a handful of oats at my feet

not all will be waste

when I have fallen to dust

rising up in the shape of a horse

Near the Irish National Stud,

where visitors come to see

round-bellied mares,

teetering foals,

crested stallions,

where Arab sheikhs

find a next winner,

look for his image.

The Byerley Turk,

a founding father,

painted by John Wootton,

reins in the hand of his Arabian groom,

in the background, Hagia Sophia, Istanbul.

remain alert

the way of the horse

is clean and pure

and not to be entered