History of Horses in the year 0326

Hayfield, Scotland

Good morning, fellow equines and horse lovers! Emma here, a grey draught mare with a passion for history and all things equine. As we approach the start of spring, it feels fitting to delve into a year that was particularly exciting in the world of horses: the year 326. Now, I may not have been around in that era, but thanks to some well-preserved records, I've pieced together a fascinating story to share with you all. Buckle up, as we embark on a journey back in time!

The year 326 CE, if you're into your Roman numerals, was a time of significant change and development across the known world. While the Roman Empire continued its mighty presence, we were beginning to see its power spread, like the tendrils of a strong vine. I imagine the sight of a legion of Roman soldiers, their shields glittering in the sun, would have been an awe-inspiring spectacle for the people living in the outlying regions. Horses were vital to their movement, transporting troops and supplies, carrying powerful figures, and of course, serving as a valiant partner in battle.

The Roman Empire’s reach extended far beyond Italy and Greece, as you all know. The soldiers had an impact on horse breeding in faraway places, with their powerful breeds influencing the types of horses found across various regions. It’s all very fascinating to ponder how far those early equine connections reached and how they changed the face of horse breeds as we know them today.

Now, my humble Hayfield isn't Rome, mind you, but the echoes of those mighty emperors could be felt even up here in the wilds of Scotland.

Speaking of home, let’s journey to my beautiful Hayfield, nestled close to the rugged and dramatic highlands of Aberdeen. Imagine windswept moorland, the scent of heather and gorse in the air, and fields as far as the eye can see. Our life is quite different from those well-maintained horses used by the Romans. Here in the north, the horses are wild, strong, and used to enduring harsh weather. We’re tougher than a well-fed city horse, that's for sure!

This era, with its growing political movements and changing frontiers, meant the Roman influence trickled into Scotland. Horses of different bloodlines would occasionally mingle with our local wild breeds, influencing their size and stamina. It's a bit like how a drop of honey changes the flavour of an entire pot of tea. Those Roman horses may have been bred for speed and elegance, but our ancestors were the hardy, robust sort who thrived on the unpredictable terrain. It’s a great thing to be proud of, and I’m thankful to my forebears for being so tough. We wouldn’t have been able to endure these conditions any other way!

Our days here are filled with foraging, galloping through the wild fields, and tending to our foals. Our lives are very much a survivalist existence. You might wonder what a day in the life of a horse in 326 might have been like. Well, as dawn breaks, we awaken from our rest, seeking the sweetest grasses to nibble on. Then, comes a joyous stretch and gallop across the plains – pure, unbridled freedom. The mornings are generally spent exploring the territory, often leading our youngsters as they learn to navigate the world around them. And the afternoons? Ah, those afternoons are for tending to the needs of our herd, looking for signs of danger, and generally enjoying the camaraderie.

I remember one glorious morning, as the sun shone brightly through a gap in the clouds, and the wind rustled through the gorse bushes. We were a small herd of eight mares and their foals, frolicking like a bunch of puppies in the vast fields. A sudden gust of wind blew a little too close for comfort, and one of the foals - a small bay mare - found herself suddenly separated from her mother.

With a heart-stopping plunge, we all wheeled around to her aid. As quickly as we had gathered, we were off again, the mare reunited with her mother, and a sigh of relief escaping us all. It's those kinds of moments - instinctive and primal – that remind me why we are as we are: strong, resilient, and ultimately, family. It’s something you don’t see too much in the carefully bred horses in those posh Roman stables, and I wouldn’t have it any other way!

But back to that momentous year 326... Let’s journey back in time. You see, 326 marked the beginning of a shift. This year was especially important for us. That year, the Romans, with their highly trained horses and skilled riders, pushed further into northern Britain.

One late summer afternoon, we were all enjoying a leisurely afternoon, munching on sweet clover in the meadows. Suddenly, there they were. A band of riders - powerful horses and well-armed soldiers, each a gleaming embodiment of Roman discipline. My heart quickened, the instinct for caution and suspicion instantly taking hold. They moved with purpose, their eyes scanning the terrain. They looked so very different from us - so well-kempt and sleek, their coats gleaming like polished silver, unlike the rough-and-ready, wild look of us Highlanders.

The moment they entered our pasture, our foals whinnied in a panic. Mothers, a mixture of protective pride and nervous tension, instantly stepped in between the humans and their young. It was a stand-off of sorts, with both sides assessing each other - a silent ballet of strength and power. I'm sure their horses sensed it too.

You see, my great grandmother had spoken of these "Roman Horsemen" - these warriors who rode horses much like our own. These horsemen were the Roman auxiliaries, the ones they relied upon for their conquest. They used the horses of the region - tough, hardy steeds that could thrive in these rough, unforgiving lands. They weren't like the sleek war horses the Romans usually kept, though those were surely mighty as well.

Now, you might think that their arrival would only bring trouble. It was tense, of course, but instead, it became a sort of learning experience. I mean, they're not all terrible! One Roman soldier, he stood out, with his easy smile and calming air, something different from the rest. This particular horseman had a large chestnut mare, gentle and calm. The horse didn't shy away, its gaze filled with an old soul wisdom. He came towards us, a sign of peace. It was almost as if they understood our fears.

He started by letting his mare walk slowly, as if trying not to intimidate us. The mare made a curious sound - a low, rumbling noise as if to say, 'Let's all be calm. I'm here to explore, not conquer.' He called her name - 'Celestine,' it sounded like. And he fed her some of the grain they carried with them - I suppose it wasn't hay! Then, he let her approach our foals.

For a brief moment, that day in Hayfield, I learned that the Romans weren’t just raiders; they were more complex than we imagined. In fact, this group of Roman soldiers were here on an exploratory mission. They sought resources, traded with local clans, and even engaged in the practice of crossbreeding local horses with their own, seeking the ultimate horse for this terrain.

Celestine's story fascinated me! That Roman man taught us a great deal that day about the care of horses. He spoke about grooming them to improve their comfort, feeding them a nutritious mix, and how training can shape their natural abilities. I learnt so much about how even the roughest wild horses can be treated with kindness, patience, and an understanding of their needs. I must say, for a brief moment, I wondered how their world, with their stables, grooms, and disciplined training, might compare to ours. Perhaps one day, I'll be able to tell you all about that - perhaps if I ever leave my Hayfield behind.

However, there was a deeper message there, something that's stayed with me ever since. The Romans, in their quest to dominate the known world, still acknowledged the value of our horses. They were drawn to our resilience and strength - characteristics that were also deeply embedded in Roman culture. There's a lesson here, wouldn't you agree? There's more than meets the eye with any horse. We’re all part of a grand, long history, and we all possess strengths that are valuable and beautiful in our own unique ways.

That encounter sparked a spark in my young soul. Perhaps those Roman horses didn’t always stay with their Roman riders; maybe they escaped, finding freedom in a place as vast and beautiful as my home. Perhaps a piece of their influence, their history, lived on in our very veins, their legacy carrying on through us - a lineage stronger because of the exchange of bloodlines.

You see, our equine ancestors, like all of us today, are bound by a powerful thread of history. It's a lineage of resilience, survival, and adaptation that transcends individual lives, linking each generation with those who came before. This is what fuels my love for our history – it shows us that horses have always been resilient, adapting, and finding their place within every evolving world.

Until next time, my friends, may your gallops be long, and your lives filled with the joyful neighs of your beloved herd!

Yours in all things equine, Emma