Post Number: 1346
Greetings, dear friends! Emma here, a grey mare with a white mane and tail, living my life in the bustling world of horses. Today, we'll take a trot back in time to the year 1346. A year brimming with life, adventure, and…well, maybe a bit of hardship too.
I was born in 1326, in Hayfield, near Aberdeen in Scotland. I’ve seen a lot in my twenty years – changes, battles, joys, sorrows, the ebb and flow of life as it sweeps through our equine world. But 1346 was a year of change and fear, and today I’ll share my perspective.
I work the land, I pull carts, and I've seen how our equine cousins contribute to the lifeblood of our communities, and 1346 saw some big shifts. Let me share a bit of the journey…
A Shift in the Wind: The Black Death's Arrival
Early in 1346, something dark began to whisper its way through our land. A sickness called the "Black Death", a plague unlike any we'd seen before. This terrible plague began to claim many people and horses in Europe. The poor souls of those in the great cities felt the most. The sick suffered and the dead grew many. I've heard that even King Edward III, ruler of the land of England, lost some of his men during a great campaign. They said the air itself was filled with disease. Many towns saw so many die that even horses had to be pressed into pulling the dead carts, which felt almost like a desecration to a beast that usually served the living.
Despite its horrors, I felt it a bit less in Hayfield. Our isolated lives made the impact gentler. We heard tales from travelers, and they painted a dark picture. Some came carrying the sickness and others were escaping its clutches. I have never understood human fears, but I'd felt the dread as the plague advanced. It was as though the world was holding its breath.
From Our Hayfield to the Battlefield: The War in France
It's always been the nature of my kind to be in service to humans. We work their land, pull their burdens, carry their warriors to battle. As summer progressed, a tide of fear began to flow into our own lives, a tide from the human world.
The Black Death hadn't slowed down the conflict between England and France. England's King Edward III had begun his invasion, and the war raged on. A grand war, so grand that every horse had to prepare to join its human master's side in one way or another.
And so, young stallions, my fellow steeds, began their preparations. I recall those preparations. Many were chosen for their size, strength, and spirit. They carried knights and soldiers, pulling wagons and carriages. They were more than just workhorses; they became steeds of war, with great honour in the eyes of humans.
The War Horses' Burden:
Those chosen for battle often felt a greater weight upon them, not only the physical burden of heavy armour but also the invisible pressure of their human riders’ anxieties and the fate of battle itself. The war horses were, to the humans, extensions of themselves, so those entrusted to this burden must have felt a greater purpose in their existence. I couldn’t fully comprehend it, of course, for I'm no battle-trained stallion. However, I could see it in their eyes, those eyes filled with both excitement and a fear I understood, the fear of what could come next. I’ve always been more comfortable with the fields and furrows. The land felt like an extension of me.
A Horse's Perspective:
The events of 1346 cast a long shadow. A war waged, a plague spread. But we are a species strong, both in body and spirit. Even through hardships, we maintain our duties, pull our loads, carry our masters, and find sustenance on the land, the life we're built for.
Now, this is my first post. I'm not one to speak out much, but as you know, horses aren't the most vocal beings. However, our hooves drum to the beat of history, and so I've felt it best to start sharing my insights, my observations, my world as it relates to horses, in all their beauty and glory, and especially this beautiful journey in time through the year 1346. Thank you for listening, friends.
To Be Continued…
This is just the beginning of my tales, a first peek into a world filled with wonder and, yes, sorrow, as experienced from the perspective of a grey draught horse named Emma, from Hayfield, near Aberdeen, Scotland.
Stay tuned to EquiWorld.org and continue our journey through the years to come. Next, I'll be sharing thoughts on the Battle of Crécy. It's said to be a momentous battle for our war horse brethren… and I've heard stories of what happened in France that year.
Until then, stay strong, healthy, and always remember, a horse's hooves walk in history as well as on the ground.
Goodbye for now!
Emma
