Greetings, fellow equines! Emma here, your favourite grey draught mare from Hayfield near Aberdeen. Today, I'm stepping back in time, a little further than usual, to 1187. It was a year of big happenings in the world, and believe me, we horses were right in the middle of it all!
The year began crisp and clear, the frost sparkling on the dew-laden grass. The heather was in bloom, a tapestry of purple stretching over the hills, a reminder of the beautiful country I called home. Back then, things were much simpler. Life in Hayfield was mostly about working the land. We helped with the ploughing, the harvesting, the transport of goods. But as you'll see, this was just the start of a grand adventure for us horses!
A Call to Adventure
Now, 1187 wasn’t just about farming, it was also the year of the Battle of Hattin. Though I was nestled snugly in my stable, I couldn’t help but feel a certain thrill. Stories were whispering through the air, like the wind carrying seeds.
This Battle of Hattin, they said, involved King Guy of Jerusalem, a powerful man with a glorious golden crown, and Saladin, a brave Muslim leader who wore a flowing robe of emerald green. They fought for land, for faith, for power. And in this clash of titans, we horses were to play a vital part!
Imagine! Imagine being part of something so epic! Stories flowed through Hayfield like a babbling brook. The knights from Jerusalem needed horses, mighty warhorses with strong legs and strong hearts. This news filled my every waking thought with a longing for adventure. It wasn’t long before these stories reached the ears of Lord MacDonald, my noble master.
Farewell, Hayfield!
The morning arrived, a touch colder than usual, and Lord MacDonald called upon his most reliable steed - me! I felt the thrill of this momentous occasion rush through me as he fastened my harness.
“Emma,” he whispered, running a hand over my velvety coat, “ you have a special duty today, a duty worthy of a true horse. You will be joining the King’s Army."
With a mournful whinny, I said my farewells to my friends - the other horses in the fields and the little colts that would race after me. Then, the familiar clang of hooves and the dust of the road filled my senses as I stepped into the great unknown, the world waiting for me. My journey wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, of course.
We travelled for what felt like eternity, winding our way down the long road to the southern land of Jerusalem. I was a soldier now, ready for my part. It wasn’t easy - the hot desert sun burned our flanks, and our thirst seemed never to be quenched. But seeing the other warhorses, so powerful and proud, kept my spirits high.
The Battlefield and Beyond
The battlefield was a sight I can never forget, even today. Thousands of warriors, a sea of shields and spears, all with a glint in their eyes, and all perched upon the backs of our brethren, a sight both terrifying and inspiring!
Our riders were fearless, their shouts resounding across the land, a symphony of battle. We were caught up in the swirling dust and chaos, but through it all, I saw the power of our kind - our speed, our strength, our unyielding loyalty to our riders.
When the battle was over, the dust settled, and silence reigned, it felt like the world had been emptied.
Despite our courage, our bravery, King Guy lost. It was a painful day for all of us, but through it all, I was proud to have played a part. It was in this moment of despair that I witnessed something that truly touched my heart, a small act of kindness that underscored the human spirit.
One of our fellow horses, a fiery chestnut, had fallen in the battle, its leg broken by a cruel strike. A young knight, his armor dirty with dust, knelt by the fallen steed, his face filled with sorrow. He caressed its mane, whispering gentle words in its ear. Even in defeat, a knight's love for his horse, a true brother in arms, was evident.
A New Path
Our time on the battlefield wasn’t easy. The wounds of war left a deep mark on all of us. It was a humbling experience, showing me the strength and resilience of both horses and humans, even when faced with great hardship.
As time passed, I made my way back north. I returned to Scotland, a different horse now, seasoned by my journey. My mane was longer, my coat thicker, my spirit unbowed. Hayfield embraced me with open arms, a warmth that filled my soul. I was no longer just a work horse, but a warrior, a testament to the power of equine spirit.
The memory of 1187 still resonates within me. The year was both a triumph and a tragedy, but a story that deserves to be told, a testament to the courage, the spirit, and the power of us, horses, in a time of unfathomable challenges. We were more than just tools. We were a force of nature, a loyal companion, a symbol of hope in the heart of turmoil.
Now, as I stand in Hayfield, my grey coat shining under the Scottish sky, I see a new generation of young foals running through the fields. They’re innocent and carefree, unaware of the battles to be fought or the journeys to be taken. But through them, our story lives on, a reminder of the bond between horses and humans, a bond built on trust, loyalty, and love.
*Until next time, my equine friends! Stay curious, stay strong, and never forget the magic that lies within us all. *
Emma, your Hayfield Grey, Signing Off
