charlotte dujardin horses

Ever watched a video of a 16.2hh Dutch Warmblood move like liquid mercury—and thought, ‘That’s not dressage. That’s witchcraft with better tack.’? Welcome to the charlotte dujardin horses origin story: *Valegro*. Nicknamed “Blueberry” (for his dark coat and sweet temperament), this gelding—by *Negro* out of *Maifleur*—wasn’t flashy at first glance. Bred for sport, yes, but sold as a *prospect*, not a prophecy. Then came 2012: London, Greenwich Park, floodlights, and a freestyle that made grown judges weep into their scorecards. 93.975%. A world record. *Three* Olympic golds. And the pair—woman and horse—so in sync, ye’d swear they shared a heartbeat. What made Valegro magic? Not just athleticism. *Temperament*. Calm under stadium roars. Curious, not spooked. Willing, not forced. As Charlotte once said, voice cracking: *“He gave me everything. I just held the reins.”*

Before the podiums and palace garden parties, there was *Fernhill Sundance*—a 14.2hh pony with a mind like a terrier and a jump like a pogo stick. Charlotte’s first serious partner. Then came *Fernhill Legolas*, a liver chestnut Hanoverian who taught her timing, rhythm, and how to *listen*. Not every horse went viral—but each laid a brick in the foundation. Early on, cash was tight. Lessons cost £25. Farrier? Scheduled *around* payday. And yet—she’d drive 90 miles in a battered Vauxhall, thermos of builders’ tea in the cupholder, just to school a horse for 20 minutes. Those early charlotte dujardin horses weren’t flashy. But they were *honest*. And honesty, in this sport, is rarer than a quiet GCSE results day.

Valegro (2002–2024)

The icon. Retired in 2016 after a tear-jerking farewell tour—then lived out his days at Carl Hester’s yard in Gloucestershire, dozing in sunbeams, accepting carrots from starstruck visitors like a retired PM at a village fete.

Mount St John Freestyle (2011–)

“Freddie”—a liver chestnut gelding with a *swagger*. Took Charlotte to silver in Rio 2016 (team) and multiple European titles. Known for his elasticity in piaffe—and his *dislike* of umbrellas. Still in light work at 14, schooling youngsters in the basics of ‘how to look fabulous doing very little’.

Emma (Gio) — Gio (2015–)

Dark bay, by *Glamourdale*, out of *D’Avie*. Acquired in 2021. A rising star—fluid, expressive, with a trot that *sings*. Represented GB at the 2023 Europeans. Quietly tipped for Paris.

Ah, the eternal question down the pub after the Horse & Hound drops: *“Has Charlotte Dujardin sold her horses?”* Let’s clear the fog. **Valegro?** Never sold. Owned jointly by Charlotte *and* Carl Hester—and retired to Carl’s care. No auction. No mystery buyer. Just hay, turnout, and adoration till his peaceful passing in 2024. **Freddie?** Still under Charlotte’s direct ownership—no transfer, no syndication. **Gio?** Owned by the *Mount St John* stud—Charlotte rides, trains, and competes him under lease. Syndicates *do* exist (e.g., *Mount St John Diva II*, campaigned by Lottie Fry), but for Charlotte’s top mounts? She prefers tight-knit, long-term partnerships—*not* revolving-door leases. As one insider quipped: *“She doesn’t collect horses like handbags. She builds marriages.”*

What’s in a name? For charlotte dujardin horses, *everything*. Valegro = “valour” + “great” (Italian/Dutch mash-up—Carl’s idea). Freestyle = freedom, music, artistry—*exactly* what he delivered. Gio = short for *Giovanni*, after *Glamourdale*’s sire line—elegant, timeless. And let’s not forget *Mount St John Diva II*—briefly campaigned by Charlotte in 2022 during Gio’s minor setback. “Diva” wasn’t ironic—she *knew* she was special. Walked into arenas like she owned the carpet. Naming isn’t branding. It’s *baptism*. A vow: *This one matters.*

Here’s the quiet truth: Charlotte’s horses don’t perform because they’re *forced*. They perform because they’re *understood*. Her training—steeped in classical principles but filtered through modern sports science—prioritises: • Mental welfare: No horse works more than 45 mins/day. • Physical longevity: Regular osteo, physio, and *mandatory* turnout—even Valegro got 4hrs/day. • Emotional safety: Schooling in quiet arenas first; crowds introduced *gradually*. Contrast that with old-school “submit or else” methods—and ye see why her mounts *thrive* into their late teens. Freddie’s still doing half-passes at 14. Valegro was schooling walk-trot at 19. That’s not luck. It’s *respect*.

So—what is Charlotte Dujardin’s new horse called? Meet **Gio**—full name *Mount St John Gio*. Dark bay, 16.3hh, by *Glamourdale* (himself a stallion of near-mythic presence), out of the *D’Avie* line—known for suppleness and rideability. Acquired late 2021, debuted internationally in 2022. Strengths? Huge, ground-covering trot. Piaffe that looks like he’s *floating on hot air*. And a temperament so steady, he once stood through a fireworks display at Hickstead—*while* being videoed for a shampoo ad. Charlotte’s called him *“the most naturally expressive horse I’ve sat on since Valegro.”* High praise. And, if whispers from Wellington are to be believed, *Paris 2025* could be his coronation.

Let’s not gloss over it: this sport breaks hearts. Valegro’s retirement ceremony? Charlotte sobbed into his forelock while 5,000 fans stood in silence. Freddie’s minor suspensory strain in 2023? She *withdrew* from two shows—*not* because he couldn’t cope, but because *she* wouldn’t risk him. And when her beloved pony *Fernhill Legolas* passed at 28? She didn’t post for a week. No filters. No PR. Just grief—raw, human, *real*. The bond in charlotte dujardin horses isn’t transactional. It’s *familial*. And as any horse person knows—saying goodbye to a partner who carried ye to glory? That’s not closure. It’s a quiet ache that never quite fades.

Time for truth-telling: ❌ *“Valegro was ‘born perfect’.”* → Nope. He was *green*, hot in his early years—Carl nearly sold him. It was *training*—not genetics alone—that made the magic. ❌ *“She only rides expensive imports.”* → Sundance was £800. Legolas? £3,500. Talent’s everywhere—if ye’ve got eyes to see it. ❌ *“Gio replaced Freddie because he ‘underperformed’.”* → Rubbish. Freddie’s still active—just in lighter duties. Gio’s the *future*, not a replacement. As Charlotte herself snapped once, mid-interview: *“They weren’t machines. They were *maestros*. And you don’t swap Mozart for Beethoven—you just learn to love both symphonies.”*

At its core, the story of charlotte dujardin horses isn’t about scores or medals. It’s about *listening*. About patience. About showing up on freezing February mornings, mucking out, grooming, *observing*—not just demanding. Valegro’s piaffe didn’t happen in a month. It happened in *thousands* of tiny ‘yeses’—each one honoured, never rushed. In a world obsessed with instant results, these horses remind us: greatness is grown, not grafted. So the next time ye see a horse move like poetry—remember the hours, the haynets, the whispered encouragements at 6 a.m. And know: behind every legend, there’s a human who *chose* kindness over control. Fancy more tales of equine brilliance? Pop over to Riding London, lose yerself in our Learn section, or brush up on genetics with our visual guide to horse coat color chart visual identification—because every champion starts with a coat, a name, and a chance.

References

• https://www.fei.org/athlete/10000833
• https://www.britishequestrian.org.uk/news/dujardin-and-her-horses-a-legacy-of-trust
• https://www.horseandhound.co.uk/features/charlotte-dujardins-horses-ranked-778892
• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OyUJx6KQYbM (Valegro retirement ceremony, official FEI)