Suburbia's equine outlaws

John Murray Brown reports....

Glamorised and Vilified, The 'ponykids' are Dublin's cowboys.

They use names like Thunder and Rocket. Their qualities are debated in much the same way that grown men talk about cars.

On the first Sunday of every month, the children of Dublin's outlying council estates ride their ponies into the city centre.

In a country where the racing and breeding industries are now big business, the Smithfield market provides a snapshot of an alternative horse culture.

Here, alongside the four-wheel drives and the horse boxes of the regular traders, Dublin's urban cowboys strut their stuff. They ride without saddles, in jeans and trainers, "jockeying" their mounts across the cobbles in an accentuated trot which reverberates off the surrounding buildings. Some are so young they are dwarfed by their pets. Others, their legs dangling on the ground, appear unaware of the horse's discomfort.

They provide one of Dublin's recurring icons. In one of the early videos of the U2 rock band, a horse is seen peering nonchalantly from the window of a block of flats. Roddy Doyle, author of The Commitments, who has chronicled working-class Dublin, depicts a horse on the Dart, the commuter rail system. In the film Into the West, a tenant in a block of flats finds neighbours squeezing a horse into the lift. Asked what is happening, it is explained that it would never make the stairs.

In a city blighted by drugs, the horses certainly provide an important form of escape for bored youngsters who might otherwise take to heroin and petty crime.

Perry Ogden, a fashion photographer, this week publishes a stunning book of studies of these "pony kids".

But animal rights activists and local politicians say outsiders often ignore the appalling ways in which some of the horses are treated. "The Dublin Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals is called out to more than 250 incidents a year, to deal with injured or starving horses; more than 100 are put down."

Tony Gregory, a campaigning north Dublin politician, says: "It's easy to paint a picture of young disadvantaged children riding these lovely animals. But there's nothing romantic about a horse strangling itself around a tree stump outside your backyard."

There were more than 3,000 horses until a couple of years ago. Even today, despite recent legislation, the sight of stray horses grazing alongside main roads and on waste ground and public parks is commonplace. On state radio, horses often seem to feature in the traffic updates.

Thirty years ago workhorses were an accepted part of the city landscape and used to ferry crates from the Guinness factory, or coal and scrap. Many of the people who would have worked in these professions have now been rehoused in soulless estates on the city's fringes.

For the authorities of this modern and increasingly "house-proud" city the sight of stray piebalds on city roads is an embarrassment and a threat to public safety. Last year, in one of the worst incidents, two youngsters rode bareback on ponies across the motorway, causing an articulated truck to crash into a coach carrying 70 schoolboys. There were no fatalities.

"They're out of control. Many times the parents don't even know they have the animals. Sometimes they will use their communion or confirmation money to pay for a pony," says Maurice Byrne, the DSPCA chief inspector. "We have Americans ringing us up, Japanese, every type of TV crew, CNN, National Geographic. They have this idea this is some sort of tradition. Actually, horse-trading at Smithfield only started in 1975."

Under the Control of Horses Act which took effect in 1997, all horses have to be licensed and tagged with an electronic chip. Licences will only be issued to owners who have suitable stabling and are over 16 years old. If unlicensed animals are found on council land they are taken to a pound and only released on receipt of IPounds 25. If found wandering three times, they are confiscated and given a new home.

The travelling community - Ireland's ethnic nomads - would traditionally have provided many of the horses. But the law has hit them badly. "The accommodation some of us have probably wouldn't be as good as the stabling you need to get a licence," says Thomas McCann of the Irish Travellers Movement.

Travellers are slowly abandoning their nomadic lifestyles and moving into council-provided accommodation. Those who want to remain on the road are moved on by the authorities as the hunger of development takes up every available inch of land. The Horses Act merely adds to their problems. As for the Smithfield market, that may soon be closed as developers eye the site which is two-thirds the length of O'Connell Street and is one of the few substantial undeveloped commercial lots left in the inner city.

"I didn't even know the horse market was there to tell you the truth," says Paddy Kelly, who has an interest in one of the consortiums seeking to develop the so-called Harp area.

Some will no doubt regret the authorities' approach. Fintan O'Toole, a well-respected Irish Times columnist, says the children "long identified with the wild west image of Dublin suburbia are now to become literal outlaws".

But others are more positive. "I was brought up with horses. When I lived in Ballyfermot as a kid we used to race the boys from other areas. But we know that Dublin is changing. There are motorways and roads that weren't there before," says Noel Rochford.

He runs a small horse project at Fettercairn in south Dublin teaching kids the basics of grooming and horse care. The scheme has attracted money from the government. It is supported by the Royal Dublin Society, once the quintessential Anglo-Irish institution. Dan Lufkin, scion of the New York banking family - a regular buyer at the annual Dublin horse show - is also providing funding.

"The kids may sometimes go on the gaggle (alcohol) but drugs have been totally blanked off. We haven't seen one lad gone astray," says Rochford.

Noel Davern, the junior agriculture minister, believes Fettercairn and other community-based initiatives provide real hope in the inner city. "Very few children would have been brought up with a work ethic. Most would have come from the homes of the long-term unemployed," he says.

Eddie Harty, who won the Grand National on Highland Wedding in 1969, now acts as equine adviser to Dublin Corporation, and is involved in another children's horse project at Cherry Orchard. He says: "When a horse is in a race and he misses his place, and the gap closes, he can find himself coming in last. Kids are like that, too."

Industry has obvious reasons to be supportive. With jobs being created at a record rate in other sectors, Derek O'Sullivan at the Race Apprentice Centre at the Curragh says the horse-racing industry is having to bring in labour from eastern Europe and even the West Indies for studs and stables.

His centre takes on 30 people a year - only two or three are from urban backgrounds. But Robert Winston, a graduate of the centre, is proof of what can be achieved. Four years ago, he would have been exchanging tales of derring-do with his friends at Smithfield. Today, still only 19, he is apprenticed to a yard in north Yorkshire and to date has ridden 68 winners.

"It certainly gave me good balance. In the city you learn skills in confined space. And I think I am stronger in the arms than other jockeys," he says.

For futher reading check out the book Pony Kids, by Perry Ogden and Jonathan Cape