Hello everyone! Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood draught horse from Hayfield, near Aberdeen. Welcome to my blog! This week, I’m diving deep into history - well, my own history - and sharing with you all about the world of horses back in the year 398 AD. That’s a whole load of years ago, but as we all know, history is filled with fascinating tales!
Hayfield and the World Around Me
First things first, let me paint you a picture of my life in Hayfield, right around the time the year 398 started.
I was a young mare then, just turning twenty years old. My coat, as you might know, is a gorgeous silvery grey, but the sunshine in Scotland tends to make it almost shimmer with gold in the summer months! My mane and tail were snowy white, framing my face like a crown. My strong, sturdy frame was perfect for the kind of work I was expected to do. You see, I wasn’t a flashy warhorse, galloping across battlefields. No, my job was much more important: to help the farmers till the land and pull their heavy carts.
And I was a good worker. You know how we horses can sometimes get a bit full of ourselves. But I never. Always happy to lend a helping hoof and put my strength to good use.
Hayfield itself was a bustling village, tucked away amongst the rolling hills and moorland of the north-east of Scotland. We weren’t the richest folk, but we were content. My humans lived in a simple, wooden house. Nothing fancy, but it offered warmth in winter, and a solid, sturdy barn where we horses could rest our heads at night.
The Romans - Far Away but Not Forgotten
You’ve probably heard of the Romans. They were these grand folk who travelled far and wide, conquering land and leaving behind their grand buildings, impressive roads and amazing artwork. And their legacy wasn't limited to what they built; it affected even a quiet corner of Scotland like Hayfield.
Back in the year 398, though, the Romans hadn’t yet touched this part of the world. But their presence was felt through stories passed down generations. Tales of powerful warriors on horseback, magnificent cities of marble and stone, and fascinating tales about faraway lands and peoples. It filled me with a longing to see more, but we horses had our hooves firmly on the ground, focused on our tasks and the life we knew.
My Life as a Draught Horse
As I said, my life was mostly about work, but that didn't mean it wasn't fulfilling. Each day brought new challenges, from pulling the plough through the rough ground, to carrying heavy loads of wheat and barley to the local mill. I would haul carts piled high with supplies to the bustling marketplace in Aberdeen, or the village festival where they’d have music and singing and bonfires blazing bright into the night.
Yes, my life as a draught horse was far from luxurious, but I found joy in it. I was surrounded by people who understood and loved me. There was the gruff but kind farmer, my human companion, who always checked my hooves for stones and fed me with a warm hand, and my friends – a boisterous Clydesdale named Duncan, and a gentle brown mare called Willow, with whom I’d often share a quiet graze by the stream.
One of my favourite parts of the day was in the evenings when I would stand by the stables and watch the sun sinking over the distant mountains, turning the sky into a canvas of vibrant reds and purples. The warmth of the sun would rest upon my back, and the air would smell sweet and fresh. This is the quiet time when the humans would gather by the fire, talking and laughing, while I’d quietly munch on my hay, contented and tired from the day's work. Sometimes, I would even fall asleep while listening to their laughter, my dreams filled with wild gallops through meadows of tall grass, and gentle rivers running silver under the moonlight.
The Future? Unwritten
I might not have understood everything happening in the world back then, but I knew my place – to help my people, to contribute to their lives, to make their daily tasks easier. And maybe, sometimes, to give them a quiet smile.
So, that was life in the year 398. A different world than what you all experience now. And who knows what adventures awaited my human family and I in the coming years. Perhaps, we would hear tales of the Romans venturing further north? Maybe we’d even have a chance to see them for ourselves. But one thing was certain: life as a horse in the 4th century was a life full of hard work, contentment, and a touch of magic, woven into the fabric of our lives through the gentle hum of nature and the quiet kindness of my people.
Stay tuned for my next blog post! And be sure to visit EquiWorld often for the latest on all things equestrian. Happy hoof beats!
Emma, the Hayfield Grey Mare
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