Chénérailles was packed on the morning of May 9, for the Foire aux Chevaux which is held on the second Sunday of May and October each year. Visitors who got there early said that it was busier than for several years, maybe because everyone wanted to avoid the rain that had been correctly forecast for the afternoon.

There was the usual mix of people: country folk seriously involved in equitation of some sort, who normally arrive at crack of dawn, and the townies, shoppers and revellers who come along later for the ambience and the chance to buy something from the scores of market traders, have a go on the fairground rides and enjoy a drink or three.


Robert Guinot, writing in Le Populaire afterwards, said that there had been a brisk trade in ponies and horses used for riding and carriage-driving, but that sales of working horses – and presumably those for the butchers – had been very slow. We noticed that there were a lot more business stands devoted to carriage-driving, with some beautiful vehicles on display including one that looked like a 21st century version of a covered wagon from a Wild West movie, complete with plastic windows.

Dealers were reported as coming from as far away as the Jura, Italy and Spain. I must confess as a horse-lover that I hope they didn't drive back home with too many animals that would have been exhausted at the end of such a long journey. I hate hearing unwilling horses being loaded by hard men with sticks into metal-sided transporters and trailers, and being left inside pawing the floor, wild-eyed and untethered. I've had my share of coaxing recalcitrant ponies into horse-boxes but at least once safely installed and tied up they had padded sides to lean against and a hay-net for comfort.

It was good to see that most of the horses, ponies and donkeys for sale were in reasonable condition, and we didn't spot any patient and worn-out workhorses or brood mares, with split hooves and old scars, waiting to be taken off to the knacker's for pet food. Indeed, there were some pretty palominos and several spotted Appaloosas alongside the more conventional animals.

There also seems to be a trend to have more and more tousle-haired miniature ponies, standing not much higher than a big dog and resembling Normsn Thelwell cartoons.

The saddlery was pretty good quality too, whereas once upon a time what was on offer would have been dismissed as rubbish by anyone used to seeing similar stands at British agricultural shows.


It is to be hoped that the better quality of merchandise – both four-legged and static – was a reflection of the investment made by the community in this traditional event. This was only the second fair to be held on Chénérailles' recently improved Champ de Foire. Between events, the site can best be seen from the road to Aubusson opposite 8 à Huit (see above), if you don't actually want to drive into it. Not long ago ownership was handed over to the Communauté des Communes, while the town municipal council kept the management role. Construction of the new covered area and outside metal pens cost 256,000 euros and grants were received for 79% of that sum from the State, the region and the département. It will be a monument to the late Guy de Lamberterie, former president of the Communauté des Communes, conseiller général and initiator of the scheme, who died in April.

The project had originally been estimated at 200,000 euros and at one time it looked as if this might escalate to 450,000 euros, before a few expensive flights of fancy were pruned away. Even in its "economy version" it does, however, provide facilities unique in the Limousin.

Horses have been sold at the popular livestock markets in Chénérailles for generations, but in 1893 the local council decided that they were taking up too much space among the cattle, sheep and pigs, and asked for permission to have special markets devoted entirely to equines. When loose, the cattle were given to escaping and causing a disturbance, and room was needed for hitching rails where they could be tied. Typically, the wheels of bureaucracy ground exceedingly slowly, and it was not until 1902 that the first six-monthly Foire aux Chevaux was held on the enormous market place that dominates the town centre.

Although most local paysans had been too impoverished to use horses in their subsistence farming at the beginning of the 19th century, conditions had improved such that by the end of the century there was a stud in the town with four stallions dedicated to the breeding of working horses, and animals from the canton of Chénérailles were regularly winning awards at the annual comice agricole in Aubusson.

At some point in the 20th century – I'm afraid I don't know when – the Foire aux Chevaux moved from the traditional market place to a very much larger arena down a slope to the south, parallel with the Aubusson road, where there were metal pens, rails and an area for trying out the paces of prospective purchases, together with a large expanse of parking for lorries and horse-boxes. The old market place was given over to traders' colourful stalls which now sell everything from pinafores and ball-gowns to sewing machines and tomato plants.

The traders also fill La Grande Rue from the market place to outside the medieval church and spill out to line the roads to Ahun and Aubusson. Entry to the town centre is barred and traffic is diverted. Neighbouring hamlets like ours see more non-commune vehicles on foire days than on any others and everyone makes sure their dogs and livestock are well out of the way of speeding urban drivers.

Round the church are stalls selling live birds (ducks, hens, cockerels, geese, guinea-fowl and baby chicks) and rabbits, too. People buy them in cardboard boxes punctured with air-holes, and as they walk round you can hear cheeping and scrabbling noises coming from inside. The May fair is also well-timed to buy plants for the potager and flowers for the garden, though the uncertain weather and our consequently bulging cold-frames put us off this year.

The Foire aux Chevaux is a six-monthly event that we can't miss without somehow feeling we are letting the side down. We rarely buy much, though in the past I have lashed out on some very nice slippers and a Provençal tablecloth, not to mention some asparagus with the texture and taste of firewood. On several occasions, I have longed to come back with a particular horse or pony in need of tender, loving care whose plight has haunted my thoughts for a few days.

By going, we feel we are not only plugging into the timeless spirit of the old Creuse but supporting modernisations that will help the event to be reborn to suit the needs of 21st century equestrian life.

Down with the boucherie chevaline, long live the pony and trap!

Annik