"Hayfield Hues, A Year in the Life of Emma, a Grey Draught"
Well, hello there, dear readers! Emma here, a grey draught mare with a penchant for long, sunny days and the sweet scent of fresh hay. Today I thought I'd take you back in time to the year 791. As a draught horse, my life revolves around the needs of humans and helping them to survive in this big, wide world. And what a year it was! Let's delve into the world of horses back then, and remember, if you want to add any details or ask me questions, you can comment below. I love a good chat, as long as the flies leave me alone!
This year was like a beautiful summer day: warm and full of promise, although I wouldn’t have known this promise was in danger from that pesky, fiery mountain in Iceland. But let’s be positive and talk about the joy of simple things. The year started with a dusting of snow across the rolling hills of my home in Hayfield near Aberdeen, but by spring the ground was green and fertile, perfect for the juicy grass that filled our tummies.
My life revolves around the needs of my humans, the McKenzies. I share a sturdy barn with the other horses and there are many of us: a black stallion with a strong back named Jasper, a chestnut mare with an untamed spirit called Molly, a big, gentle brown horse named Barnaby, and of course, there's little Pippin, the bay foal who always seems to get into trouble.
My primary role was helping to plough the fields. It's not always easy work, with the heavy, wooden plough digging into the earth, but the rhythm of the day soothes me. We were a team, all of us, our hooves echoing with each stride, as we moved together like a symphony in motion. The sound of the metal plough against the ground, the soft sighing of the wind in the tall grass, and the call of the larks, high up in the bright blue sky - those were the tunes of my life back then.
Speaking of the bright blue sky, 791 was a year of plenty for Scotland. The rain had fallen at the right time, the barley crops stood tall and golden, and our fields of clover were a riot of colour, attracting a symphony of bees buzzing in and out. This bounty, though, wasn't shared by everyone. As a draught horse, I was not aware of what was happening far from Hayfield. All I knew was the world had an unspoken peace. The Vikings, those ferocious sailors who roamed the northern seas, seemed to have other lands in their sights for the time being. But even here, far from the icy waters of Scandinavia, the echoes of their power hung heavy in the air.
During my walks along the dirt tracks of Hayfield, I saw the McKenzies' sturdy carts full of goods going from village to village. These journeys often took us across long stretches of land. As I am a mare, I wasn't always in harness, though, because sometimes a human on horseback is faster than a horse with a cart! The women of Hayfield loved riding our steeds. It was a privilege to be the wind under their skirts, taking them swiftly across the hillsides to attend fairs and visit nearby settlements.
This is a new development! Women on horses! Back then, women used to ride sidesaddle, it's very elegant. They looked magnificent with their colourful skirts flowing around their legs as they raced across the moorlands. Our lives are intertwined with the human world, we share a love for this world. They even spoke about our horses.
My friend, Jasper, was particularly good for the women of the community, they said he was like a greyhound in horse's clothes, swift and full of vigour. Barnaby, our brown gelding, was slower but steady as a rock - perfect for cart work, just like me!
The McKenzies treated us well, giving us good food and grooming our coats. We’d be out at dawn with the first light, back when the morning mist hung low in the valleys and the dew made the grass glisten.
Come evening, we'd be resting in our stables, eating oats and enjoying a good old nicker with the other horses. The smell of hay and the sound of snorting and the gentle clinking of metal bits against each other filled our sleeping hours. A rhythmic and comforting hum.
Of course, back then there weren't any sleek stables like today, no heated, cosy environments! Our barn was more functional, though strong and warm enough to weather the Highland winds and rains. Our life was simple, we worked hard, slept well, and enjoyed the companionship of the McKenzies, a warm human family who we were all deeply attached to.
Oh, but I forgot! One of my fondest memories of 791 was the village fair. Can you imagine the buzz! So many horses, carriages with ornate colours, the clang of metal against metal, a glorious jumble of life, sound and smells!
It’s so hard to describe that atmosphere – the earthy scent of baked goods, the pungent aroma of horses’ sweat mixed with the sweet scent of meadow hay, and, yes, of course, the irresistible allure of cider from the local tavern! We draught horses were there to pull the carts, to help merchants sell their goods. It was a day full of colour, activity, and laughter, an unforgettable experience I often think of.
There was something magical about that year. Maybe it was the good weather, maybe it was the bounty of the land, maybe it was the simplicity of our lives, but 791 was a time of peace, of contentment, of enjoying the moment. The life of a horse is all about the now - the feel of the earth beneath our hooves, the rhythm of our stride, the wind in our manes. I can say that in those days, I felt a kind of contentment I rarely find nowadays!
*And now for some more insight into the world of horses in the year 791. *
Firstly, we were essential for life back then. Horses were the main form of transportation for most people. Imagine, for the McKenzies to get to the next town, it would be a journey of at least 5 hours on horseback or perhaps even 8 hours by cart. Not easy for modern day humans, but we were well used to this. It wasn't fast travel, but it allowed humans to explore, to communicate, to bring back the vital supplies they needed.
Speaking of transport, these were times of war, too. Remember those Vikings I mentioned earlier? Well, they were experts on using horses for their military conquests, riding fast, fierce steeds, often with axes and swords in hand! Our horse culture is also very much tied into the culture of our humans. Back in 791, war was commonplace, sadly, and our strength, our courage and agility were essential. But even when not at war, a sturdy draught horse could mean the difference between starvation and survival, between prosperity and poverty.
You see, the art of warfare in that time relied on the strong horse to haul weapons, carry armour and provisions. The best soldiers were skilled in both archery and the ability to fight on horseback. This is where horses were not just essential, but almost a god in their eyes. Some believed the horse had magic within itself, and a bond with its rider was considered sacred, making both horse and rider unbeatable on the battlefield!
While we were invaluable in battle, this meant we were also prone to death and destruction. Every battle saw horses falling victim, their noble spirits crushed beneath the weight of the battle and the loss of loved ones. A war was truly an epic and terrifying affair. You could sense a different atmosphere, a heaviness, and the sound of hooves echoing across the fields meant more than a normal journey, they were a harbinger of change and possible bloodshed!
Horses played a vital role in communication back then. The horse was also the postal service, carrying important messages across the land. I would sometimes hear stories about swift runners like Greyfriars Bobby who had delivered vital news at tremendous speed, his human’s life, the fate of a battle or the message of an important decree depended on his courage, skill and devotion.
I believe even today some horses have those amazing skills hidden within them - the ability to carry out a job, even to serve the cause of good! Of course, 791 was also the era of breeding for specific skills and abilities. For instance, my ancestors were strong, calm draught horses, while the ancestors of Jasper, my black stallion friend, were swift steeds of noble lineage. Breeding was not scientific in those days, it was more about knowing which horses to cross breed, the best in the area. Even today, horse breeds continue to have specific skills that we bring to our world.
In addition to warfare, travel, and communication, horses had an important role in daily life. Farmers relied heavily on their strength for agriculture - pulling ploughs and wagons. We made the whole system work. If it was ploughing, we were the strongest, calmest horses needed to manage those tasks.
One more fact about the history of horses - they weren’t always called horses! Did you know, my ancestors were referred to as 'steeds' back in those times. I still like that name! And while it might seem silly today, horses back in 791 were considered more than a mode of transportation, they were a symbol of strength, pride and honour for our human friends.
As you can see, life as a horse in 791 was both hard and rewarding. The world felt both immense and intimate all at once! A place of challenges, bounty and camaraderie, but all interwoven with the needs, dreams, and emotions of our human companions.
Until next time, I hope you enjoyed a peek into my world. I look forward to hearing your comments below and will write again next time!
Remember, stay strong and follow your dreams.
Emma - Grey Draught Mare, Hayfield, Scotland
