Neigh-sayers be warned, this is a happy, optimistic blog! Welcome back, lovely equines, to my humble corner of the internet. As always, I'm Emma, a grey draught horse with a heart as big as my broad shoulders. This week, I'm delving into the dusty scrolls of history, and sharing my insights on a particularly breezy year, 1074 AD. Now, I know what you're thinking - horses, history, what could be so exciting? Trust me, my friends, even the calmest of years have a story to tell.
My life, like that of my ancestors, revolves around work, the comfort of routine, and the occasional taste of sweet clover. My home is Hayfield, a sprawling pasture near the lively city of Aberdeen in Scotland. I'm one of a team of six, entrusted with hauling heavy loads for a kind farmer and his family. We pull ploughs through rich soil, cart produce to market, and sometimes even haul timber for the sturdy new homes popping up in the countryside. This is the life we've always known, a simple rhythm of sunrise to sunset, of muscles working in tandem with man.
But let me tell you, 1074 AD was a year of whispers. It's not that we were whispering in Hayfield, of course. A good draught horse doesn't have the time for that. However, the news from our human friends - the grooms, the blacksmith, the farmer - carried a hint of excitement in the air. Something was brewing, just beyond the horizon, in a place called England.
Now, I've never been to England, but our farmer tells us tales of the proud stallions kept by the King there, stallions he calls War Horses. Imagine a majestic black charger with a fiery spirit and an unyielding gaze. These horses, our farmer says, gallop across battlefields, carrying brave knights to war. Imagine the exhilaration! The wind whipping through your mane, the adrenaline pumping in your veins!
Of course, here in Scotland, things are a bit different. We're the dependable backbone of our community. Our life is not filled with the chaos of war. We're content to plough the land, bring warmth to our masters' homes, and play a vital role in building their future. Yet, it seems even these calm times were stirred by the rumblings of war across the sea.
It is in this spirit of peace, however, that a new horse tradition took root, one which still thrives today. It's the gentle sport of polo! I remember our groom, a stout man named Duncan, talking about this new game. It was born, he said, amongst the wealthy classes of Persia. Polo involves these beautiful, lean horses galloping across the field, carrying skilled players who whack a small, heavy ball with their stick! They race against each other, in a battle of skill, speed, and athletic prowess, but with no bloodshed.
This, my dear fellow equines, is where the exciting part of our year 1074 begins. The news of polo reached the King of Scotland. He heard tales of this game, so different from the violent clashes of his warrior brethren, a sport that combined grace and strategy. King Malcolm III was a shrewd ruler, and he saw the beauty of this sport - its elegance, its inherent nobility.
The king, eager to introduce new games to his kingdom, commissioned several new playing fields, specifically tailored for polo, which our farmer calls a 'sport fit for kings and knights!' Our Scottish noblemen embraced this new game, and the Scottish version of polo began to flourish. We heard tales of horses, nimble and quick, racing through the fields, the clink of metal and the excited shouts of players.
One story our blacksmith shared with us stuck in my memory. He'd heard that, during a particularly thrilling polo match, one of the King's favourite grey horses, much like myself, dodged a swinging stick and scored a spectacular goal. The entire court roared with excitement, even the king, they say, slapped his knee and laughed.
So, you see, even in a year where the air hummed with tension from distant war, horses found a way to shine. They galloped across fields not of battle, but of friendly competition, they earned the admiration of both nobles and commoners. In the heart of Hayfield, where I stand amongst my stablemates, it might seem that 1074 was just another quiet year, a year for hauling and tilling the soil. But it wasn't. It was a year of new traditions, of joy and camaraderie, a year where horses proved their worth, not in the field of war, but on a grander field of elegance and sporting spirit.
*That, my friends, is why 1074 was a very special year in our world, even though I didn't know it at the time. * I trust this insight into our equine past is of interest to you. Until next time, neigh!
Emma
Don't forget to check out the website, www.equiworld.org for more exciting news about the horse world!
