History of Horses in the year 0882

Greetings fellow equines and horse enthusiasts!

It's Emma here, your friendly neighbourhood draught horse from the rolling hills of Hayfield, near Aberdeen in Scotland. Today, I'm taking a trip down memory lane – not literally, of course! - to tell you about life as a draught horse in the year 882. As many of you know, I love history and I thought this would be a fascinating post to explore.

I imagine most of you can't picture life so long ago! Think back to 882 – imagine what the world must have been like back then, when the only things moving were horses, cattle, sheep, and perhaps a humble donkey or two! And I'm here to tell you, it was a wonderful time for a big strong lass like myself.

882 AD was the year I was born, born strong and healthy in a small stable nestled in the fertile fields of Hayfield. Life was simple but full of purpose – I was a working horse. From the time I was a filly, I knew I was destined to be part of the agricultural world, helping people farm the land.

I remember the excitement of my first real job. At the tender age of two, I was yoked to a heavy cart, alongside my strong and experienced mother, pulling sacks of grain to the local mill. It was exhilarating! Feeling the wind in my mane, the muscles working in my legs, and knowing I was doing a job that truly mattered… there is nothing quite like it.

Our lives in Hayfield revolved around the seasons. The arrival of Spring meant long days in the fields, pulling the plow and harrow to prepare the soil for planting. Summer was a joyous time – we'd be hauling wagons of hay to the barn, sweating under the scorching sun. And autumn meant working long hours pulling wagons laden with barley and oats, carrying our bounty to the mills for grinding.

There was no time for slacking – we had a responsibility, a job to do. It wasn't always easy, but it was fulfilling. My strong, sturdy breed - we were draught horses, strong as an ox! – we were bred for work, bred for strength. I had the honour of working alongside several others, forming a loyal and steadfast team. Each of us had our quirks and personalities – my favourite was a black stallion named Ben, with the loudest neigh I had ever heard.

Our days started before dawn, and often continued well into the night. We were fed hay and barley, treated well, and rested when needed. I must say, life for horses back then wasn't entirely grueling – the people of Hayfield treated us with respect and kindness, seeing us as valuable companions in the challenging task of building a life.

Life in 882 wasn’t solely about work. On market days, I'd witness an extraordinary display of vibrant life as horse-drawn carts carried produce, textiles, and other goods from surrounding villages, filling the streets of Aberdeen with bustling energy. I would stand at the sidelines, occasionally carrying passengers in my cart to the market. The hustle and bustle of the market place always fascinated me – from the sound of bartering and trading, to the exotic sights and smells from distant lands.

But most importantly, the horses in Aberdeen, in Hayfield, in Scotland and across the world were essential to society. They carried people and supplies, helping communities grow and prosper. Without horses, life would have been vastly different – the world moved slower then, but horses kept the rhythm of daily life moving, a rhythmic, constant beat.

Even with all the advancements of today's world – motorcars, trains, airplanes – I think the spirit of that bygone era is important to remember. Back in 882, our life was simpler, with clear purpose. But even though we weren't burdened by complicated routines, our lives had a sense of community and unity. I feel there was something special in the bond we shared – we were connected in ways that are almost unimaginable in this modern age.

Life wasn't always easy – I had a nasty scrape with a thornbush one summer and was down for a week! - but it was good, it was fulfilling. We were strong, hardworking, and important. And I think there's a bit of that 882 spirit in all of us today, whether we’re pulling a cart or racing on the track.

So here's to the horses of 882 – and to every horse throughout history, your contributions have shaped the world we live in. We stand on the shoulders of giants, quite literally!

And don’t forget, friends – this isn't the end of my story! We'll keep on exploring the fascinating history of our magnificent breed together.

Until next time,

Emma, the Grey Draught Horse of Hayfield

P.S. I'd love to hear from you, dear readers! Share your thoughts and comments on the post. I'm especially keen to learn about any insights you may have on horse life in 882!