Horse Talismans

Most friends of The House know that the humble horseshoe is said to guard doorways and attract good fortune — but what about the horse itself, the noble creature who wears it?

The story of humankind and horsekind is an old one. Horses carry with them the energies of power, strength, and wild freedom. But they are also symbols of paradox—bridging the primal and the tamed, the fierce and the faithful. As The Book of Symbols so beautifully observes, “Our struggle for freedom has been won through the freedom they sacrificed for us in exchange for a powerful mutual bond and benefit.” Well put.

In this reflection, we turn our gaze to horse talismans from two distant lands—both carved from wood, both steeped in meaning:

The bright and beloved Dalahäst of Sweden
The elegant trio of Japanese votive figures known as migoma

Each is a small horse with a large story, shaped by the culture it comes from and the wishes it carries.

Dalahasts, Sweden, House of Good Fortune Collection

Kinoshita-goma, Japan, House of Good Fortune Collection

The Dala horse—also known as the Dalecarlian horse—is a beloved symbol of Sweden, carved and painted by hand in the Dalarna region for centuries. These cheerful wooden figures are traditionally bright red, adorned with floral harnesses in hues of green, white, and blue. Though their look is joyful, their meaning runs deep: Dala horses are said to represent strength, courage, and happiness. Some say they bring luck to those embarking on a journey or endeavor.

As with many folk objects, the story of the Dala horse’s origin has multiple tellings. One such tale begins in the winter of 1716, a bitter season during which King Charles XII was away at war and soldiers were quartered in family homes throughout the Mora area. Food was scarce. The cold was merciless. According to legend, one soldier whittled a horse from scrap wood to comfort a child in the household. He painted it a vivid red and offered it as a gift. The child’s mother, moved by the gesture, gave the soldier a bowl of soup. Word spread, and soon other soldiers were carving their own horses—trading tokens of goodwill for sustenance in a time of hardship.

But not all versions are so romantic. Folklorist Joann Conrad notes that the Dala horse was once considered an ordinary children’s toy—its elevation to national symbol came later, in the late 19th century, when Sweden, like many nations, sought to shape a cohesive cultural identity through handcrafted traditions.

Whatever its true beginnings, one moment in time is widely recognized as the Dala horse’s international debut: the 1939 World’s Fair in New York. There, a towering red horse stood outside the Swedish Pavilion, and more than 20,000 miniature versions were handed out to fairgoers. From that day forward, the Dala horse was no longer just a local treasure—it had become a global ambassador of Swedish charm.

Dalahast, Sweden, from the collection of the Mingei International Museum

If the Dala horse is Sweden’s wooden guardian of joy, then its distant cousins in northern Japan are protectors born from battle, prayer, and the spirits of real horses.

Across the regions of Fukushima, Aomori, and Miyagi, you’ll find charmingly chunky, hand-carved horse figurines known as Miharu-goma, Yawata-uma (or Hachinohe horses), and Kinoshita-goma, respectively. Like the Dala horses, these talismans are painted by hand and made of wood—but with sturdier forms and coarser manes and tails made from horsehair or palmetto fibers. Though simple in shape, they are rich in meaning.

Migoma, from the collection of the Mingei International Museum (Yawata-uma, Kinoshita-goma and Miharu-goma, from left to right)

Their legend begins long ago, in the Heian period (794–1185), when the emperor dispatched the general Sakanoue no Tamuramaro to subdue unrest in the northern provinces. Before setting out, the general visited Kyoto’s Kiyomizu Temple, where monks gifted him a hundred small wooden horses—amulets carved from the sacred remnants of a great Buddha statue.

As the tale goes, the general’s campaign faltered at Miharu—until a mysterious herd of one hundred horses appeared from nowhere, charging down the battlefield and scattering the enemy. When the dust settled, the general discovered that his horse amulets had vanished. But the next morning, a villager found one of the wooden charms in a nearby field—splattered with blood, as if it had fought in the battle itself.

In awe of this miracle, the people of Miharu began carving miniature wooden horses to guard their homes and protect their children. These became the Miharu-goma, and their cousins soon followed in neighboring regions.

Originally, Yawata-uma were hung around the necks of real horses—to safeguard them from illness, ensure fertility, and protect the stables they lived in. Over time, they became treasured gifts for weddings, births, and other rites of passage.

Likewise, Kinoshita-goma are offered at shrines as protective charms—to keep evil spirits at bay and bless the paths of those who journey with faith.

Though they now sit on souvenir shelves, these horses carry with them an old promise: to defend the living, honor the past, and gallop quietly between this world and the unseen one.

The images below are from the The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Featured on Public Domain Review in the collection Unai no tomo: Catalogues of Japanese Toys (1891–1923). The first image below is Miharu goma, or Colt of Miharu. According to Brooklyn Museum Curator of Ethnology Stewart Culin, horses were so common as ex-votos in Japan that they are collectively called ema - “picture horse.” (Volume 3, pg. 25)
The second image below is: Miharu goma (colt of Miharu), from Oshu, North Japan. Seifu Shimizu, director of a major Tokyo trading company, artist, calligrapher, and leading Meiji Era collector of omocha (toys), told Culin that it was also called kosodate uma, or “child-raising horse”, suggesting it may have been a charm for protecting children. (Volume 1, pg. 37)

Dala horse from the collection of the Smithsonian Institute

Miharu-goma (white) from the collection of the Mingei International Collection

A Final Word: The Horse at the Threshold

Though they come from opposite ends of the earth, the Dala horse and the Miharu-goma share a soul-deep truth: the horse is not just an animal, but a companion spirit. A bearer of burdens, a symbol of strength, and—at times—a quiet guardian of the invisible.

Both horses began as simple folk objects, carved by hand in moments of need, war, or devotion. Over time, they transcended their materials and became messengers—of protection, of hope, of perseverance. They remind us that good fortune is often passed down not through gold or fame, but through the humble things made with care and carried with belief.

Whether bright red and floral, or blocky and scarred from mythic battle, these wooden horses still stand—on mantels, in shrines, by windowsills—marking the threshold between the everyday and the enchanted.

And in their stillness, they move us.