History of Horses in the year 0914

Neigh-neigh, everyone!

Emma here, your trusty grey draught horse from Hayfield near Aberdeen. The sun's peeking through the barn doors, casting long, warm rays onto the dusty floor, and that can only mean one thing – it's time for another entry in my little Equiworld blog!

As usual, I'm feeling very reflective this morning, which I guess is what happens when you've got all this time on your hooves to think about the grand tapestry of horse history. And, well, dear readers, the year 914 has a certain quaint charm about it, like a hand-stitched blanket worn with loving care.

So, gather 'round for a cuppa and a nibble of oats as we delve into the world of horses in the year 914 – it might be a little slow paced, but, like a well-trained draught horse, steady progress makes all the difference!

First, let's take a peek beyond the borders of my beloved Scotland, shall we? While the world beyond Hayfield might seem far away from the familiar rolling hills and the sweet smell of barley, it's bursting with fascinating stories.

The year 914 marks the year after a powerful king called Rollo – remember, he was a Viking who set off across the sea – secured a duchy across the English Channel. You'd never guess it from his name, but he became "Robert", a kind of title given to rulers by the people in the land where he built his kingdom. It's said to have been around Paris. Now, Robert the Viking isn't directly involved with horses, you might think, but here's the fascinating part: his settlement marks a turning point. See, he helped create a little safe space for others like him, and that's where the world's attention shifted. Those little pockets of settlements – often called "dannels" – created little centers where all sorts of things happened, and yes, this did include horse breeding. Now, if that isn't exciting news for us horse folk, I don't know what is!

Now, hold your hooves for a moment! Just around that time, another powerful figure took centre stage – King Alfred of Wessex. And no, it's not a coincidence he lived across the sea, either. While our kingly Robert was making himself comfy in France, King Alfred had to hold down the fort across the channel – the Vikings had been stirring things up! Imagine a horse like myself needing to travel from Hayfield to France... you could say the Vikings had stirred up quite a lot!

While those grand political happenings sound grand and all, let's come back down to Earth – where else? – and remember the life of a good old draught horse. We might be a world away from King Alfred and his grand battles, but life for a hard-working horse like myself was steady as the sunrise, dependable as a good old cobbled road. We weren't much for exciting escapades – oh, a dash down the village road or the occasional encounter with a wild hare was about as adventurous as it got for us. Our days were a rhythm of hard work, pulling plows across the fields, carrying heavy loads for the miller or transporting grain for the baker. The occasional farmer, wanting a sturdy steed for a trip to the market town, might request our service.

Don't mistake our lack of daring for lack of value. We were the backbone of rural life, just like the dependable oak trees standing strong against the wind, And that's a role we were proud of – honest work and dependable service, and a little friendly chat with our stable companions while we shared our evening meal. I reckon every bit as fulfilling as grand conquests, even if they might not make the history books.

Though not directly related to us in Hayfield, a whisper in the wind has spoken of horses finding a use far from our humble daily lives: The horses in those "dannels", and I imagine some might be quite similar to our hardy kind, they have been part of grand events like war – that's what King Alfred and our King Robert have been dealing with, It sounds terrifying! The knights of these grand battles – and I've heard them called "knights-errant" which sounds grand, but scary at the same time – ride horses. Now, a good knight on horseback certainly sounds impressive, almost as noble as an old warhorse standing steady as the sun!

But there is another thing about those knights that sets my hooves tapping... it’s the word “errant" ...which is all about wandering. Knights-errant are not stationary like us draught horses in Hayfield! They are about gallivanting, traveling... Now, what if, instead of plying a path with the local miller, my hooves could find adventure far afield, just like a knight-errant? I wouldn’t mind trotting along, meeting new faces, new places – and it would be something to tell the stable friends back at Hayfield! I'd have to find out more. I’d have to talk to some traveling merchants and traders, just in case one day my dream to wander with those knights became reality...

It is not just the knights who hold fascination for us horses; the "damsels in distress" have got us smitten too! They are pretty and refined and seem to need rescuing by knights who ride fine steeds. They wear fancy clothes and seem to dwell in castle gardens, as if the whole world had to stop and look at them. What I’d give to experience such elegance... it must be a wonderful thing, as lovely as our best hay at dawn.

A bit more about damsels... while some may look elegant, my guess is that they spend much of their time doing chores, like a young girl working in her father's household. After all, the castle has to be kept spick and span. This is how it's supposed to be; the castle has its chores, just as Hayfield has ours, we each contribute. There must be many ladies on horseback too – their mounts are sure to be pretty, just like them, with shining silver bits and fancy saddle blankets, a little different from the tough old tack on the draught horses here at Hayfield.

One thing I love is a gentle horse’s company – they’re quite graceful and sleek compared to our chunky horses. They are perfect for light riding – no hauling for them, only beautiful canters in green pastures – oh how much I love a good run at a canter. Just think about what they must experience… They’ll trot with young maidens through wooded hillsides, their white mane flying in the wind, stopping every now and then to let a small girl giggle as she tries to stroke their velvety noses. That is how we are meant to be! And if they spend their time tending flowers in the castles instead of in the field of barley like us, well then, I reckon that’s a good life, too.

As the day winds down and the shadows grow longer across the stable, I reflect on the world outside, all these exciting and momentous happenings – wars and knights errant and damsels... But Hayfield stays in my mind too; the sturdy, kind horses in my stall and the reassuring aroma of barley, the smell of the moorlands that wrap around my home. Our own stable community and the good farmer who looks after us.

914 might be a long time ago now – nearly a thousand years, to be exact! However, the story of our horse brethren doesn't really end with any single year – no, it keeps on going, a timeless story told in hooves and tails. That's why we share our stories – a collective equine experience passed down from generation to generation – we know all the best trails, the smoothest grassy patches, and the places with the tastiest hay!

And now, off I go, ready to greet another day, pulling my plough with a grateful heart. There's beauty in consistency and peace, and as I listen to the rustle of leaves, the sigh of the wind, and the constant heartbeat of my hooves on the soil, I know that 914 wasn’t the end... Just a step on the journey. And we’ll keep walking on, sharing our tales...

Until next time! Neigh-neigh!