Hello, fellow equines! It’s Emma, your favourite grey mare with a penchant for history. Welcome to my blog! I'm nestled down in Hayfield near Aberdeen, enjoying the beautiful Scottish summer. As usual, my mane is looking particularly swish, a soft cascade of white down my back, and my tail? A cloud of white billowing behind me - it’s my favourite feature, don’t you know.
I was thinking the other day, though… It’s remarkable to consider all the journeys we horses have made, both near and far, over centuries. Today, I want to share with you what life was like for a horse in the year 1223. So grab a carrot stick and a comfy patch of grass, and join me on a trip through time!
A Typical Day in 1223
It was a chilly morning in Hayfield. I stood in my sturdy wooden stall, feeling the rough hay scratching against my back as I crunched my breakfast. This was the life of a working horse back then - we were primarily draught horses, pulling the plows and wagons, helping farmers harvest the crops and transport goods. We didn't have fancy leather harnesses then, just sturdy rope and straps, though I wouldn't say that was uncomfortable. I could feel my muscles growing stronger with every pull.
As the sun rose higher, I was led out of the stable by young Duncan, the farmer's son. I felt a thrill run through me - the familiar warmth of the sun, the sweet smell of damp grass after the dew had dried, and the cool morning air whipping against my face as we trotted toward the fields. Duncan had a gentle hand, and he always took the time to groom me and give me a loving pat. I would respond by nudging him with my nose - he would laugh and tell me I was a good girl.
Work, Work, and More Work…
It wasn’t always so idyllic, though. The work could be demanding – days filled with plowing, hauling heavy loads, or even carrying men to battle. Yes, that was another truth of our time, especially for our sturdier brothers – we were sometimes called upon to carry knights on the battlefield. While I wouldn’t call it pleasant, I did have a certain respect for the warrior spirit of my brothers who served alongside men in their times of need.
But I felt lucky to be on this small farm in Hayfield. We had a strong sense of community here, helping each other out and supporting one another, much like we do even now in the 21st century. I knew the horses from nearby farms, we’d share tales about our working lives, and sometimes we'd get to race down the lanes for fun.
The World Around Me
Even though I was on this peaceful farm, I was aware of the wider world beyond Hayfield. 1223 was a turbulent time. I remember the hushed conversations amongst the humans about the Mongol conquests sweeping across the continent. You see, the Mongols were fearless warriors who loved their horses as much as we loved ours, and they rode with remarkable skill.
They travelled through vast steppes of grassland, their steeds bearing them long distances, often crossing borders and fighting their way to new territories. There was also talk of a mighty sultan in Egypt – Saladin – whose power extended from North Africa all the way to the Middle East. I can imagine him on a magnificent steed, as grand and powerful as he was said to be.
Back on the farm, I sensed a tension among the humans – a worry, a sense of fear even. Though their lives weren’t touched by war or faraway conquerors, they understood how precarious life could be. The farm was their sanctuary, our hooves helping to nourish the land, the fruit of their labor sustaining our strength, a bond as timeless as the wind and the sun.
Life and Loss
It wasn't all work, though. The year brought both joy and sorrow. There were celebrations - the births of foals, their little legs wobbling as they took their first steps, filled me with joy, a feeling akin to seeing my own offspring grow. And the farm's harvests, thankfully abundant in 1223, filled our stalls with the tastiest grains and hay.
Yet, it was also the year I saw some of our comrades lose their lives to illness or accidents. Their deaths saddened the farm community. A gentle sigh would travel among us horses when we heard the news, a moment of silence, and then we'd go back to our daily lives.
We horses, we were just as resilient and courageous, just as patient and forgiving, and we learnt to take life’s hardships, alongside its joys. We had no words, just quiet glances and understanding nods. It was how we expressed our compassion and shared in our sadness.
As I reflect upon 1223, I’m struck by the parallels to our modern-day lives. We may no longer pull plows, but we still help humans, whether we’re pulling carts at sporting events, racing alongside our fellow horses at grand events, carrying children on horseback for a leisurely stroll in the park, or guiding the visually impaired on their journeys.
The bond between human and horse is enduring, even across the ages. And this I can assure you - it is just as strong, and just as filled with love, as it ever was.
Now, I must go and take my evening bath, and catch some well-deserved rest, as it's going to be a busy morning, preparing for another day's work. And remember, you can join me here at Equiworld and hear more about what was happening in the world of horses in all eras!
Until next time, Emma.
