The Story of Marhland Shales

Marshland Shales was a Norfolk Cob foaled in 1802, a powerful 15 hand chestnut stallion legendary for his fast trot and made famous by author George Burrows in the novel "Lavengro".
The eventual progeny of Marshland Shales was a stallion named
Alonzo the Brave (foaled in 1866) whose name appears in the pedigree of 16 of the 70 original stallions registered in the first two volumes of the Welsh Stud Book in 1902.
Timberland Shales can trace his lineage directly back to his much loved namesake through the pedigrees of all four of his grandparents.

The following is an Excerpt from the book "Lavengro" by George Burrows (published 1851) where the author saw
"Marshland Shales" at the Norwich Fair on his way to auction.

An old man draws nigh, he is mounted on a lean pony, and he leads by the bridle one of these animals; nothing very remarkable about that creature, unless in being smaller than the rest and gentle, which they are not; he is not of the sightliest look; he is almost dun, and over one eye a thick film has gathered.
But stay! there IS something remarkable about that horse, there is something in his action in which he differs from all the rest: as he advances, the clamour is hushed! all eyes are turned upon him - what looks of interest - of respect - and, what is this? people are taking off their hats - surely not to that steed!
Yes, verily! men, especially old men, are taking off their hats to that one-eyed steed, and I hear more than one deep-drawn ah! 'What horse is that?' said I to a very old fellow, the counterpart of the old man on the pony, save that the last wore a faded suit of velveteen, and this one was dressed in a white frock.
The best in mother England,' said the very old man, taking a knobbed stick from his mouth, and looking me in the face, at first carelessly, but presently with something like interest; 'he is old like myself, but can still trot his twenty miles an hour. You won't live long, my swain; tall and over-grown ones like thee never does; yeif you should chance to reach my years, you may boast to thy great-grand-boys thou hast seen Marshland Shales.'
Amain I did for the horse what I would neither do for earl nor baron, doffed my hat; yes! I doffed my hat to the wondrous horse, the fast trotter, the best in mother England; and I too drew a deep ah! and repeated the words of the old fellows around. 'Such a horse as this we shall never see again; a pity that he is so old.'