Hello fellow horse lovers, and welcome back to my little corner of EquiWorld! Today I thought we'd delve into the archives, travel back in time a tad and chat about the year 1081. I can feel some of you shaking your heads, thinking "Goodness, Emma, 1081?! Why are we going back so far?" Well, you see, my dearest readers, this year marks an interesting point in the world of horses, and one that still echoes within us today! So, gather round, settle in, and let me take you on a journey through time – to Hayfield near Aberdeen, and the life of a grey mare in the year 1081.
As a young mare then, I was about two, just starting to come into my own, strong and sturdy, my coat shimmering silver in the Scottish sun. We, my brethren and I, were a vital part of the life and livelihood of Hayfield, a village nestled in the rolling hills. We were the muscle, the backbone, pulling ploughs, transporting goods, and carrying men and women about. And oh, how I loved my work! Each sunrise brought a new challenge, a new adventure. The air crisp with anticipation, the ground firm beneath my hooves, I felt alive!
Our world, however, was much different to that of today. Horses were still quite wild in parts, with a "primitive" way of thinking as my grandmother used to say! Imagine, no shiny metal bits in our mouths, no elaborate bridles, no soft saddles. We used ropes to manage us, and harnesses made of woven leather and animal skins, sometimes a bit prickly, but what else could one expect? We didn’t have dedicated training schools either, young ones learned their trade from older horses. It wasn't the fancy system we enjoy today, but we were all incredibly strong, full of spirit, and loyal to our owners.
What makes 1081 stand out you ask? Well, you see, that year saw King William the Conqueror, a man of great ambition, crowned king of England! It was a moment that echoed across the British Isles, for England would be a force to be reckoned with from that day onwards. Of course, horses played a key role in all of this! Imagine the glorious war horses, noble chargers with the most beautiful flowing manes and tails! They were strong, swift, and fearsome, a vital part of William's campaign for the crown. It was the time of the Knights of England, gallant and proud, riding into battle upon these glorious beasts.
Just a year later, the Norman Conquest would happen, the Battle of Hastings a pivotal moment. It’s not all I recall, as I was but a foal back then, but stories of bravery, the clang of swords, and the thunder of hooves were tales spun and whispered throughout the village, by those who knew firsthand the chaos and might of that fight. While it wasn't all joy and excitement, our role in this transition, both during and after the Norman Conquest, was invaluable. We helped build castles, transport soldiers, and ultimately helped establish peace, however turbulent, in this new, unifying land.
And that was only half of our story in 1081. While warhorses and their feats captured imaginations, here in the Highlands of Scotland, it was all about working horses like myself. We hauled logs, helping build houses and sheds. We helped harvest crops, bringing in sacks of grain that would sustain the village. We pulled carts carrying materials to the nearby stone quarries. My legs ached at the end of a day, my coat damp with sweat, but my heart filled with the satisfaction of honest work.
And, I mustn’t forget the markets! We horses were often in the middle of the excitement. Our task: carrying loads of livestock, vegetables, wool, even the occasional merchant's wares. A flurry of smells – sweet, spicy, sometimes pungent! Not a quiet life, my dear friends, but it was full of excitement and the satisfaction of being useful.
Despite the long hours and tough work, life was, overall, relatively simple. My favourite times were those evenings when we grazed in the vast fields beneath the wide, starry Scottish sky. We were all together, grey mares and bays, sturdy duns and powerful blacks. We nickered and jostled, a symphony of whinnies under the moon. It’s during these times, lying amongst the cool, sweet grass, that I truly appreciated the peaceful beauty of life.
Now, in my twilight years, memories of 1081 are a comfort, a reminder of my youth. The world is vastly different now, yet the spirit of the horses in 1081 still lives. You can see it in the eagerness of our youngsters, in the unyielding work ethic, and in the deep bonds we share with humans. And as the world around us changes, so do we adapt. Yet, there’s a strength in knowing that the horses of 1081 – their stories, their sacrifices, their endurance, their courage - live within each of us. They are a part of us, their legacy forever etched upon our hearts.
So, dear readers, while this is a journey into the past, it is also a reminder of the enduring strength, spirit, and legacy that makes horses so fascinating. Until next time, may your saddles be well-fitting, your rides invigorating, and your barns full of hay and happiness.
Emma
