Neigh Neigh everyone, welcome back to EquiWorld.org! It's your favourite grey mare, Emma, here, ready to trot you through another exciting year in horse history! Today we're taking a trip back to 918 AD – a time when the world was a very different place for us equines. Can you believe it? Almost 1100 years ago! That’s longer than any horse has ever lived. Fancy a gallop back in time? Saddle up and let’s go!
A Highland Life – Hayfield Haven
My life back in 918 was a lot simpler than those pampered ponies and Arabian stallions you see today. We worked hard, we grazed happily, and we knew our place in the grand scheme of things. Born and raised in Hayfield, nestled near the rugged hills of Aberdeen in Scotland, life was all about strength and resilience. As a grey draught mare, I wasn't built for fancy races or grand processions; I was built for work, hauling carts, plowing fields, and carrying burdens across those magnificent, if sometimes treacherous, Scottish landscapes.
Our farm, nestled on the side of a heather-clad slope, boasted breathtaking views and plenty of rich, green pastures. My life revolved around the rhythm of the seasons, the soft earth yielding beneath my hooves, the scent of cut hay filling my nostrils, and the familiar routine of daily chores. I thrived on the companionship of my fellow horses and the warmth of our stable.
My days began before sunrise, as we were woken by the first whispers of the dawn and the gentle strokes of our kind farmer, Lachlan. He treated us like family, not just tools. Lachlan never spoke unkindly or pushed us beyond our limits. It was always “Well done, Emma,” and “Steady girl” in his broad Scots accent, followed by a handful of oats.
Lachlan's son, Callum, was a budding horseman with a love for the wild, and I remember him often joining me on the longer journeys, his hand a comforting weight on my neck. It was a time for him to tell tales of daring quests, the legendary Viking raids, and his dreams of joining the army of King Constantine II.
But all this talk of Vikings fills me with unease. It’s the subject of hushed whispers between the farmers, and a shiver goes down my spine every time I hear them talk about their ruthless raids on the coastline. Though the sea was miles from Hayfield, it felt ever present, its whispers reaching our highland farm. It was a turbulent time, even here in our peaceful haven.
From Plow to Battle: A Time of Turmoil
Speaking of Kings and battles, 918 AD was a year of much change and upheaval, not just in Scotland but throughout the whole of Europe. The year 0918, as we would call it, witnessed the end of the powerful Carolingian Empire and the rise of a fragmented continent with various rulers and kingdoms emerging, battling for dominance. The Danes and Vikings, with their ferocious battle cries and swift longboats, struck terror in the hearts of many.
Even from the secluded pastures of Hayfield, the echo of these tumultuous times reached us. Stories would drift in with the wind, carried on the backs of travelling merchants or whispered amongst the families who sought refuge in our small village from the violence plaguing the coasts.
I recall a particularly striking story – the battle of Tigh Buidhe (the battle of White House), just a short journey from our Hayfield haven. That was the battle where our mighty King Constantine defeated the fierce Norse leader, Thorgils, finally driving them out of the area. It was a victory, though many lives were lost on both sides, a bittersweet victory.
But beyond battles, and the constant murmur of impending threats, horses were still our priority. Horses like me, sturdy workhorses, played a crucial role in this world. Whether hauling supplies for the army, tilling fields to ensure a plentiful harvest, or transporting goods across the vast distances between settlements, we were vital cogs in the engine of life.
More than Just a Workhorse
It wasn’t all hard work, though. Like every good horse girl knows, horses also have a softer side, one filled with laughter, friendships, and a love for the simple pleasures of life. The moonlit meadows at night, the sun glinting off the loch, a playful kick to the stable door to call a fellow mare – these moments, though small, meant the world to me.
There were other horses in the village besides my work mates, including some lively ponies that would run free, often leading to spirited gallops across the open countryside.
Every year, in the waning weeks of summer, we'd head out to the annual Highland Gathering. It was a joyous spectacle, a gathering of families from every corner of the region, each bringing their horses along for the event.
The scent of heather and the vibrant tunes of the bagpipes filled the air. I loved the lively crowds of villagers and the camaraderie we all shared as horses. I enjoyed seeing the excitement of the younger colts as they explored the gathering and met new friends. We also watched the skill of the young riders showcasing their talents during the games and contests.
Even if I couldn't participate in those high-spirited races, the joyful commotion and the thrill of the event invigorated me, leaving me buzzing for days after.
Horses Through History
But it wasn't all games and gatherings. Being a grey draught mare wasn't about glory; it was about service, perseverance, and knowing your place in the grand scheme of life. I knew I had a duty, not only to my farmer, but to our village, to our community, to the people who relied on my strength and resilience. And I'd like to say that although we might have had different lives, our bonds were just as strong as those forged through noble competitions and elaborate races.
In my lifetime, I've been witness to so many stories – of heroes and villains, of bravery and despair, of loss and of love. But throughout it all, one thing remained constant: the importance of horses in shaping the world around us.
The year 918 AD was no exception, as these magnificent animals continued to play their crucial role in human societies, whether it be in agriculture, warfare, or the simple joys of life in the wild.
I believe every horse should know about the glorious history we have – and be proud of it. From the days of hauling heavy carts and navigating rough terrains to carrying daring warriors and forging empires, horses have left their mark on this world, their stories woven into the fabric of time. And that, my fellow equines, is a legacy to celebrate.
Thanks for joining me for this trip back to 918, and as always, keep your hooves happy!
Until next time, it's Emma, signing off!
