Hello, lovely equines and equine enthusiasts! It's Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood grey draught horse from Hayfield near Aberdeen. Today I'm going to delve into a little bit of horse history, which always feels a little magical, don't you think? We are, after all, so intricately entwined with the tapestry of human history. So, let's gallop back in time to the year 0724…
As a grey draught horse, I have the privilege of working the fields. You can't imagine how satisfying it is to feel the rich earth beneath my hooves as I pull a sturdy plough, or the rumble of the wagon laden with harvested barley as I trundle across the fields. My white mane and tail flutter in the breeze, a beacon against the vastness of the Scottish countryside, and every muscle in my body hums with the joy of a hard day's work.
The year 0724, though, wasn't just about routine. This year marked a turning point in the way we, horses, were used in our little corner of the world. Before, we were predominantly used for pulling ploughs, carts, and transporting goods. Yes, we were the backbone of agriculture and trade, but now something was shifting…
Our people were beginning to appreciate us for more than just our strength. The great knight, Dunston, arrived in Hayfield with a regal bearing and a handsome chestnut mare, whom they called Guinevere. Dunston spoke about something called the “Norman Conquest,” which brought with it new ways of using horses – in battle, in particular. I wasn't quite sure what he meant, but the sheer energy and excitement he spoke with had everyone in Hayfield, including the horses, in thrall.
As Dunston, the knight, stayed with us in Hayfield for several weeks, he spoke with my master, a gentle soul named Hamish, about how the horses in the south were becoming increasingly important for fighting. Hamish told him stories of how we, the horses in the north, were just as capable and resilient.
The stories I heard sparked a newfound respect for horses. No longer were we seen as mere working animals, but as beings of great strength and agility, worthy of respect and care. It felt like a new chapter was being written in our relationship with humans.
There were more things brewing besides war talk, though! Our world felt bigger than ever, and news of horses arrived from across the land.
Our fellow steeds from the English countryside were said to be learning to gallop in formations, even running alongside warriors in their armour. Such a brave and exciting spectacle!
And the news from beyond the seas… The story of a “Horse of Heaven” was spoken about in hushed tones – a white stallion with an otherworldly aura, worshipped as a symbol of purity and hope. I couldn't help but imagine the wonder of this legendary creature.
It’s funny how, in those days, news travelled so slowly. Sometimes, it would take weeks for news from one village to reach another. But what did happen, arrived in our hayfields via conversations in the barns, during shared meals, and by the warmth of a hearth in the evenings.
Of course, not all of this new information was pleasant. I overheard rumours of war, sickness, and famine plaguing lands far away. These stories always brought a lump in my throat, a pang of sorrow that spread through my heart.
But we horses were, and still are, adaptable and resilient. Despite the challenging world we were learning to navigate, we had each other – a community of horses united in our shared purpose. I was part of something bigger than myself.
These tales reminded me that the world was vast, and we were an essential part of its intricate fabric. It was humbling, thrilling, and deeply reassuring. It is this sense of shared purpose and community that keeps us going, even in times of difficulty.
Through all of this, our world kept on turning, our fields kept growing, and the work kept flowing. It wasn’t just about being a worker, but also a member of a thriving family. My stable companions, Jasper, a kind bay gelding with an easy temperament, and Rose, a mischievous, black mare, always knew how to keep things fun with playful kicks and shared stories around the water trough. The rhythmic clinking of harnesses and the contented moo of the cows grazing in the meadow were the lullabies that lulled us into restful nights, beneath the star-studded Scottish sky.
And that, dear reader, was the year 0724 for a draught horse like me. There were tales of courage, of strength, of hardship and resilience. We horses carried the burden, and we reveled in the simple joys of life, all with a certain grace and fortitude. As always, we embraced each day, knowing that even the most mundane tasks held a spark of magic, as long as we carried a steady heart and a brave spirit.
Don’t forget, dear reader, to share your thoughts about this post and, if you have any tales of your own about life in 0724 or any other year, please share them in the comments section! You never know, maybe they’ll inspire a future blog post.
Until next time,
Emma, The Grey Draught Horse Hayfield, Aberdeen
