History of Horses in the year 0048

EquiWorld Blog Post #48: The Year 0048: Life as a Draught Mare in Scotland

Hello fellow equines and horse-lovers! It’s Emma here, your resident historian from Hayfield, near Aberdeen. It’s been a bit of a blustery morning here in Scotland, with a chill in the air that reminds me of how much I love a warm hay bale and a good old snooze.

Today, we’re stepping back in time to explore the year 0048! Now, I know you might be thinking “0048? Why bother, Emma?” But believe me, there’s something fascinating about stepping back in time and seeing how our ancestors lived, worked, and travelled. It’s a reminder of our amazing equine journey, how we've adapted and been an integral part of human life for thousands of years!

Life in Hayfield in 0048:

Well, for starters, Hayfield wasn’t even called Hayfield then, or Aberdeen for that matter. These settlements were only just starting to emerge around this time. You could say I was lucky to be born right at the start of the Iron Age, when the people were just starting to figure out how to make better tools and cultivate the land, which made our lives, as horses, much more interesting and busy!

It’s been a beautiful, yet sometimes harsh, life here. The rolling hills of Scotland are as familiar to me as the lines on my own back. My grey coat is perfectly camouflaged amongst the moorland, blending with the grey skies that often dominate the scenery. The grass is often a bit sparser here compared to the south, and there’s nothing like a hearty barley or oats mix to fuel a strong horse like me.

The Importance of Horses:

The thing you have to understand is that in 0048, humans couldn’t survive without us. No tractors, no cars, no airplanes. It was horses who carried them, pulled their plows, and hauled their goods. We were the very backbone of their society, and in turn, they provided us with a purpose, shelter, and the respect we deserved.

You can imagine a typical day in Hayfield:

  • My early mornings are usually filled with the rhythmic thump of hooves on hard-packed earth, as I pull the ox-drawn plow through fields of wheat and barley.
  • We haul timber, which we carefully log from the ancient forests, and use to build their little thatched homes.
  • The women, as skilled with their hands as we are with our hooves, gather wood for cooking, often hauling it back in panniers slung over our saddles.
  • As the sun begins to set, painting the heather-covered hills in shades of orange and purple, it's often time to head back home to our stable, where we munch on hay and listen to the fire crackling in the fireplace as the menfolk tell tales around it.

It’s a life of hard work, yes, but there is also camaraderie among us. We communicate in whinnies, snorts, and nuzzles, and know the comfort of each other’s company. It’s a special kind of bond, a horse's connection with other horses, and you understand it deep in your soul when you share a stable with your own kind.

My Family & Fellow Horses:

You see, I am fortunate to have my mother, Belle, still by my side. Belle is a sturdy, chestnut mare who has taught me all I know. I learned to pull a plow before I even knew my own strength, and learnt how to navigate rocky mountain passes and navigate the rushing rivers with the grace of a willow swaying in the breeze.

My siblings – the playful roan colt, a chestnut filly with a blaze down her face, and my brother, the stout black stallion with a temper – are my family. We spend our days together, whether it's sharing a patch of clover in the meadows, or challenging each other to a friendly gallop around the highlands.

We also have a whole community of horses. From the hardy, long-haired Shetland ponies who carry heavy sacks of salt over the mountain paths, to the elegant grey chargers who ride alongside the chiefs of nearby clans, we are all connected.

There's a sense of quiet companionship, the reassuring click-clack of hooves on stone, the rhythmic rise and fall of our backs, as we stand together, a force to be reckoned with, yet as gentle as a breeze over a meadow.

Horse Training:

The people are surprisingly skilled at training us horses. No whip cracks or harsh words. We learn to respond to their voices, their gestures, and most importantly, their respect. They understand our strengths, and their methods involve trust and reward.

A handful of barley is all the motivation a young colt needs, and a soft hand on the reins brings out the best in even the most stubborn mare.

They are aware of our vulnerability too. A swift injury could cripple us and make us useless to them. Their dependence on us is mirrored by a kind of tenderness. They take care of our wounds, even building small makeshift shelters for us when we get tired from a long journey. It is a pact built on respect, need, and, perhaps, even friendship.

Horses Across the World:

As for other horses around the world, 0048 is a bit of a turning point, particularly in terms of breeding. My mare ancestors, from places like the Caspian Sea or parts of Asia, were just starting to venture further into Europe and parts of North Africa. This mingling of bloodlines led to the amazing diversity of breeds we have today. It’s quite fascinating to think about our global history, how far our lineage reaches across continents. I can just imagine our ancestors making their way through new landscapes, meeting other horse tribes, and carrying on their genes.

Looking Towards the Future:

And, to think, that all this happened over 2,000 years ago! So much has changed in the world, yet we are still here, playing a vital role in many lives, even though technology has evolved and cars rule the roads.

While things may be different, we still hold our own, and our unique history shapes us to this day. It's a fascinating story of how we adapted, how we shared, and how we forged a path alongside humankind.

So the next time you see a horse grazing peacefully in a meadow or trotting across a field, take a moment to think about our rich history, spanning thousands of years. Remember the courage, the strength, the companionship, and the tireless service of those who came before us. They paved the way for all of us, and for that, we can never forget their legacy.

Until next time, fellow equine enthusiasts, and happy trails!

Emma, Hayfield, Scotland.

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(End of Blog Post #48)

History of Horses in the year 0048