Hello there, dear readers! It's Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood draught horse from Hayfield, near Aberdeen. It's a lovely sunny morning here, perfect for a good roll in the field. And as I do, I'm thinking back to a special year - 0710! This wasn't just any old year. It was the year of the Big Race - the first ever recorded, organized horse race! Isn't that exciting?
It seems the humans have a fancy new invention – this “writing” thing. And a fancy new place - something called “EquiWorld” where we, horses, get to have a say in how the humans perceive us, all through this clever writing trickery. Anyway, let me tell you a little bit about my life and the world of horses in the year 0710.
My name is Emma. I'm a big grey mare, with a beautiful white mane and tail that shimmers like moonlight on a frosty morning. And at 20, I'm a bit older, but still strong and capable of doing a day's work in the fields, which I must say I enjoy, despite being "old". I'm a true workhorse, part of the sturdy Draught breed - we were bred to be strong and sturdy to pull the plows, carts, and the big wagons that bring the goods around. I wouldn't swap being a Draught horse for anything. It gives you purpose, makes you feel needed, especially by humans.
As I said, I was born in the little village of Hayfield near Aberdeen. And you know, the views are lovely here. It’s all rolling hills and green meadows that turn golden yellow when the summer arrives. It’s a lovely place to be, especially when you are young. My favourite place is the little river that runs right by Hayfield. On hot summer days, I like to go and lie in the water with my hooves sticking out and just drift off to sleep. I just love the feeling of the cool water on my skin.
But, of course, my life in Hayfield isn't all just about playing in the river. I have to help the farmers around. They treat us well, mind you - a good bed of straw in the barn and plenty of good hay and oats.
Sometimes the farmers bring us oats mixed with a sweet, golden treat. I’m not sure what it is, but it's delicious! Sometimes, the farmer’s son, Thomas, shares his warm bread with me. He loves horses. In fact, he wants to become a horseman, a man of renown who trains horses. The way he talks, you'd think he can train us to talk, but who knows what the future holds? Perhaps, in a few hundred years, we might actually be able to write! Maybe! But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Speaking of work, one of the jobs we do here in Hayfield is transport hay to the local towns and villages. We take the big wagons, pull them slowly, our hooves churning up the earth as we trudge through the villages. Then there's the market days where we help pull the carts carrying the produce, like oats, barley and vegetables from the surrounding farms, all the way to the bustling marketplace. I have to say, the crowds are a bit daunting but that sweet treat I get after market days really makes up for it! It must be molasses; it just smells heavenly!
Anyway, let me get back to that race in 0710. I didn't get to race myself. You see, my type of horse isn't suited for that sort of work. They need speed, not power. And a nice smooth coat and a beautiful white mane and tail would just get covered in mud if we did a big race. No, we are the dependable ones. Our work is getting things done.
But Thomas went to see it. He was absolutely bursting with excitement when he came back. Apparently, he had the pleasure of seeing these powerful horses that could gallop like the wind. And apparently, the crowd roared. He told me there was an exciting air to the whole event – like everyone was feeling the energy. He said they galloped so fast that they could hardly be seen.
I asked Thomas if it was a friendly race and he said, "Yes, it is, Emma! They’re more like a contest of strength and skill, really!" Apparently, all the horses were adorned with colorful silk ribbons and were given a head start by human hands. Can you believe that?!
This was in a village called Newmarket, a name Thomas described as “famous” and "far, far away". I wonder if those races are still being held there today? The humans told us about "Queen Anne," but how do we, horses, truly understand these rulers? Their power seems far removed from us, out there, beyond the meadows, but in a sense, she must have been connected to that event. They all talk about her being an aficionado of this sport. Apparently, even though the race was far away from the village, the humans here were quite excited about it too. The whole race felt like it sparked an enthusiasm in the community! Maybe horses have more of an impact than they realise, eh? It’s quite nice to feel that impact on people - not just helping them transport stuff or plough their fields. It feels powerful to be a part of that.
A few months later, a message arrived with the farmer - a long and narrow scroll with fancy letters on it. Apparently, these are called “papers” – it seems these letters become messages, and the “writing” I mentioned earlier! It made quite a commotion, I can tell you.
The farmer read it aloud: "It appears Newmarket, that famous little place, will have a regular race – the ‘Royal Hunt Cup’, a celebration of the ‘Great Races’ they held back in 0710". Wow, what a thing! I didn’t realize things could become that popular. All that, and it started as a friendly little competition. This was a whole year dedicated to a game between horses, for everyone to enjoy! This year was truly special and gave the horses a sense of purpose that goes far beyond work and strength, right? What a fabulous, life-affirming year for us!
It feels like it was a year that began something extraordinary, and that got the humans truly excited about horses in a way that perhaps, we didn’t see them get excited before. This kind of news always seems to spark up a new wave of energy, something special, across the land. I wonder what the future holds, especially with the horses! What more will the years bring for our kind? Well, I'd love to share that with you, but, my fellow horses, it seems like I need to get back to work. These plows are not going to plough themselves!
Until next time! Stay curious, be bold, and never lose your thirst for adventure.
Emma, your friendly neighbourhood Draught horse.
