Hello there, lovely Equine friends! Emma here, your resident grey draught mare, blogging from Hayfield near Aberdeen in bonnie Scotland. It's time for another trip down memory lane - 366 AD to be precise. Buckle up for another adventure through history, told from a horse's point of view, naturally!
Oh, what a year! This is when the Romans truly decided that our good, sturdy Scots knew what they were doing with horses. You see, in 366 AD, things got rather hairy - quite literally, with the arrival of Pictish raiders who weren't at all fond of our Roman neighbours. The Romans decided, after some initial scuffles and a fair amount of chaos, that some good ol' Scottish horses might come in handy, and that's where we, the magnificent draughty sort, came in.
My grandmother - a wise old grey, her mane and tail as white as the winter snow - told me tales of her time working with the Romans, ferrying supplies, carrying heavy loads and helping them move their great camps around the countryside. She said the Roman soldiers were mostly fine people, albeit quite fond of making a fuss about the neatness of our stables. I suspect they just wanted us looking our best in case someone saw us as the magnificent beasts we are!
Those of us in Hayfield - and believe me, this little valley was practically a breeding ground for strong and hardy draught horses, perfect for hauling the Roman chariots and carts - found ourselves quite in demand.
You wouldn't believe the excitement those big, strong Roman war-chariots made, rushing around with the thunder of hooves, the rattling of armour, and the shouts of the soldiers. It certainly wasn't a quiet life. There was a constant hum of activity with the building of roads, forts, and the hauling of goods all across the land.
We were working hard - long hours hauling supplies, carrying grain, wood, and tools, sometimes pulling plows across fields, or helping to build the impressive stone structures they built. We knew this wasn't an easy job, and the work was often heavy and tiring, but we also understood our importance. Without us, those impressive legions couldn't move so quickly or efficiently.
Now, I won't lie, I found some aspects of the Romans a little much - all that organised marching and shouting wasn't quite my cup of tea. But I had a special relationship with the Roman carpenter. A kind old chap, he’d talk to me as if I understood him, patting my nose and even bringing me delicious treats of apples and sweetbread - truly, the best!
He used me to move wood, helped me get my own hay, and always made sure I had a soft, dry bed of straw for the night. In fact, we developed quite a friendship! He taught me a few words - “Calidus” for “warm”, “Dulcis” for “sweet” and of course, "Ave", meaning hello in their strange tongue. Now, even though my memory of these lessons fades each passing year, the memory of our shared friendship and kind gestures still makes me smile.
But I also knew it wouldn't last forever. Rome, like the wind, shifted and changed. My grandmother had been through similar changes, witnessing the Celts and then the Romans arrive, leaving their mark on the land. Each time, things shifted again, and we horses adapted.
You know, it was around this time that whispers of an empire - "The Western Roman Empire," they called it - began to crumble. The Picts had gotten bold, raiding across the Roman borders, making those Roman soldiers grumpier than usual. It wasn't long before those soldiers had to focus on fighting, instead of road-building.
What's more, rumours of battles and fighting reached our stables, telling stories of how some of our equine kin had found themselves caught up in the chaos. We couldn't tell how those stories ended - and if we're being honest, we were just glad they hadn't come to our stables in Hayfield! I suppose our sturdy nature and the fact that we worked closely with those big Roman legions made us safe from that side of things.
However, the whispers from other horses made us feel a little apprehensive, as it felt as though change was always on its way. It was clear, though, that things in those great cities, those “urbs” that the Romans spoke about, were indeed changing. People were struggling and that meant change for all of us.
The Roman's grand plans, once so seemingly permanent, now felt less secure, and even their grand fortresses - strong as they were - became less reassuring. We understood the meaning of hard work, but what we didn't know was what would become of us if the world around us started to shift too dramatically.
But even amongst those shadows of change, life carried on. We had foals being born, filling the pastures with playful energy and the joyous whinnies of youth. The mares tended their foals, teaching them how to navigate the world with patience and gentleness.
I must tell you - 366 AD wasn’t just a year of changes, it was a year of growth! We horses were constantly being used and our strength and abilities were admired. I, personally, felt proud of how well my strength and stamina contributed to so many important jobs, allowing the Romans to achieve things they never thought possible before. It felt good to know we were playing an important role, though sometimes, I must confess, I yearned for a long day grazing under the blue, Scottish sky.
So, in that year of 366 AD, our world felt both steady and uncertain. The world of humans around us shifted and changed, and we, the sturdy horses of Hayfield, felt it too. We had experienced both calm and change, we’d hauled heavy loads and raced through meadows. We’d witnessed empires rise and fall, but despite everything, we had remained true to ourselves, powerful, strong and majestic - a symbol of resilience in a world constantly in motion.
What will this new year bring, you might ask? Well, dear friends, I'll tell you next time. Stay tuned! And remember, always stay strong, stay courageous, and remember your own magnificence!
Until then, keep those hooves high and hearts happy!
Emma, Your Grey Draught Horse
Hayfield, near Aberdeen
