Neigh Neigh, my dear readers! It's Emma here, your resident historian from Hayfield, nestled amidst the rolling hills of Aberdeen. As a twenty-year-old grey draught mare with a mane and tail as white as freshly fallen snow, I've witnessed a good deal of change over the years.
This week, we're stepping back in time to 1326 – a year that feels a lifetime ago. It was a turbulent time for all creatures, especially horses, but for a stalwart like me, life went on much the same, with plenty of work to keep me occupied and a warm stall to return to at night.
Let's get down to business – that year, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't about big innovations or inventions in our world. No fancy bits, no revolutionary saddles. Our roles were pretty much defined: to pull plows, transport goods, and serve our human companions. We were the engines that drove society, the tireless workhorses (no pun intended!) that kept the wheels turning.
Life at Hayfield:
My days started with a hearty breakfast of oats and barley, the rich smell of the grain awakening my senses. It was then that the farmhands would come for me. My owner, a kind man named Duncan, always made sure I was fed well and treated with care. I often stood beside his wife, Agnes, while she milked the cows, her gentle hands a soothing presence in the morning mist.
Onward to the Fields: It was my job to help pull the heavy plow through the soil, a rhythmic routine I was deeply familiar with. Each furrow, a testament to the sweat of my brow and the strength of my hooves. Planting the barley and rye seed was an important ritual, bringing hope for a good harvest. My hooves, like those of my companions, left their mark on the land, telling a silent tale of dedication and labour.
Journey to Aberdeen:
Sometimes, a trip to Aberdeen became necessary. We'd pull the cart filled with our master’s produce, weaving through the cobbled streets, dodging curious children and burly traders. I must say, the smells of Aberdeen market were always a riot for the nostrils! So many spices and scents wafting through the air, from fresh fish to the smoky aroma of roasting meat, each with its unique character.
Tales of War and Royalty: While Hayfield provided a peaceful existence, we heard whispers of unrest in distant lands. News of King Edward III's war with Scotland spread like wildfire, though it remained a vague, faraway echo for a mare like me.
We also heard murmurs of the mighty King Robert Bruce of Scotland, a king famed for his strength and cunning. Though never seen in person, his name carried a weight, a sense of respect, echoing in our conversations. His image on a coin passed hands to hand, a symbol of national pride.
From Humble Horse to Noble Steed: But 1326 also witnessed something exceptional, an event that reverberated through history - the crowning of King David II. The news spread through Scotland, a ripple of hope and change.
Even we horses felt a sense of anticipation during this time. King David, known for his love of horses, ascended the throne with great fanfare, ushering in a new era for our kind.
The Legacy of a Horse's Life: Life as a workhorse might not sound glamorous, but every single day was a lesson, a contribution to the grand tapestry of life.
It's this spirit, the dedication, the simple acts of hard work, that continue to resonate even across centuries. Our ancestors may have worked in different ways, with different tasks, but their hearts beat with a similar rhythm - a desire to contribute, to work alongside humans, to create something together.
**And remember, dear readers, each hoofbeat tells a story - a history waiting to be discovered, a treasure waiting to be unveiled.
Stay strong and keep those hooves kicking!
Love, Emma, Hayfield **
For more of Emma's historical musings, check back next week. Happy trail!
