Experimental historical research

 

As you may know from following this blog, I have started, in September, a PhD in Medieval studies on the subject of the breaking-in and training of horses in medieval France. My main sources are manuscripts, dating back from the 13th to the 16th century, though I will also be looking at archaeological remains. 

However, in the last few weeks, my project has taken on another dimension, following the arrival of the two feral yearling ponies I was given in November: I quickly realised how interesting it would be if I somehow “used" them for my research. I talked about it with my supervisors at the university and they agreed that it would be an exciting project to have on the side. 

My initial intention was to follow the training method described by Jordanus Rufus (whose name I already mentioned a lot on this blog, and who will go on be quoted, again and again and again) and experiment it on the ponies. The only problem was that there were some aspects of it, such as the use of hobbles or of a desensitising method a bit too like flooding, that did not make me quite comfortable. 

Nowadays, the training (and riding) of horses raises more and more ethical concerns. And though the medieval method I am studying is gentle, compared to some of what is still sometimes done today, and bears some similarities to natural horsemanship, I did not feel I could totally apply it to my ponies, not even for the sake of research. 

So did I have to give up the experimental dimension of my project before it even started? Not really. My analysis of Rufus's method and my handling of the ponies follow parallel courses. Though I am not directly applying one to the other, the real life experience I am slowly gaining, making mistakes, making progress, hesitating sometimes, experimenting, is helping me see the medieval texts in a completely new light. I now realise the problems inherent to the taming of a young, wild animal. I ask myself questions on the concrete application of the method. I suddenly make sense of statements that, before, seemed quite mysterious. 

I will be honest: the handling of those ponies is difficult and time consuming. In the last couple of weeks, I have barely had time to work with them, and just fed and mucked them out (though one could argue that this is yet another way of getting them used to me). And my work with them lacks the rigour of true experimental research. Yet I do feel that what I am doing with them is teaching me a lot, both as a horsewoman and as a historian. 

Being an equestrian and around horses daily had already informed my vision of equine history. It made me want to really put the horse, as a living being, rather than just a tool or a symbol, at the centre of my research. It made me want to uncover the real animals behind the texts and the archaeological remains. Behind the names and descriptions sometimes found in the sources. It constantly reminded me that the horse as a historical subject was first and foremost flesh and blood, something that seems to be, at times, forgotten in a number of studies. 

Now it’s a little bit different. Because of the experimental dimension – even if it is not very rigorous – taken by my project, I put myself in the place of the author I am studying. I re-enact a relationship. My ponies take on the part of the medieval equines whose presence I seek in the texts. And I live my research, rather than simply do it. 

What shape my final project will take is still uncertain. The way my work with the ponies will fit in it has yet to be determined. But it is certainly an interesting experience and I’m looking forward to seeing how it develops!