Hello my fellow equine friends! It's Emma here, your favourite grey draught mare with a splash of white mane and tail from the rolling green hills of Hayfield near Aberdeen. Today, I want to whisk you back in time to the year 1396, a year full of exciting developments for us horses and a whole heap of adventures for this mare right here!
Now, 1396 wasn’t the most peaceful of years for our human companions, especially here in Scotland. We had the Bruce and his army, always marching about, and then there were those pesky English chaps with their ever-present threat of raids. It wasn't the best of times for those needing to cross the borders! I remember it well; the air was thick with the sound of hooves pounding on cobblestones, and the constant clang of armour and weaponry, which could sometimes feel rather unnerving, let me tell you!
Thankfully, for most of the year, I was tucked away in Hayfield, assisting the farmer and his family with their day-to-day work. He was a lovely chap, with gentle hands and a heart of gold. He never overloaded me, always making sure I had a good bed of straw at night and enough oats to keep me full and energetic. Every morning, I would rise before the sun, ready for whatever adventures the day might bring.
But then, 1396 presented an opportunity I could never have dreamed of! I was selected to be part of a grand train travelling south to Edinburgh. I felt a thrill coursing through me when I saw all the other horses - fine war steeds, noble hunters, sturdy working draft horses, all prepped and gleaming in their harnesses. A murmur went through the stableyard - “The King is going to need all of us!”
You see, the young King Robert III was on the move, heading to Edinburgh for his Coronation. It was a momentous occasion for the whole country, and it was an honour for me, a simple farm mare, to be chosen for such a duty. It made me feel a little bit proud, puff out my chest, you know?
We were a great, long line of horses, led by a handsome black stallion called Blackwood. The air crackled with anticipation and a buzz of excitement. We all seemed to sense the importance of our journey, and each hoofstep seemed to carry a significance beyond just moving from one place to another.
The road to Edinburgh was a grand affair. We wound our way through rolling meadows, climbed steep mountains, crossed vast plains, and trudged along rugged coastlines. There were bustling towns with vibrant markets and people, their faces aglow with excitement as the King’s entourage drew near. I never tire of seeing those faces, full of a youthful kind of wonder, gazing at the power and majesty of a great royal procession.
Along the journey, I witnessed many sights. I saw families gather by the roadside, their faces filled with awe and anticipation. I saw children waving flags, their laughter carried on the breeze. And I heard stories, tales of heroes, battles fought, and brave knights who stood up for their king.
We finally arrived at Edinburgh, a city full of life, colour, and activity. The crowds lined the streets, their faces full of admiration and respect for the young King Robert III, riding tall and proud on his magnificent black steed. I remember feeling a surge of national pride, of belonging to something greater than myself, knowing I was part of something so monumental.
The coronation was a magnificent affair, the kind of ceremony I'd only read about in the stories the older horses shared on moonlit nights. There were nobles in fine attire, shimmering silks and embroidered cloth, beautiful ladies with dazzling jewels, the grand spectacle of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the clang of armour. The sheer scale of the event, the colour, and the ceremony overwhelmed me, sending a surge of pride and joy through me.
Being close to the King himself, surrounded by all those important dignitaries and soldiers, gave me a sense of being a part of something significant. You know that feeling when you're on the winning team, and everyone is congratulating you and you’ve been given a piece of the prize – well, that's how it felt for me in that moment, being part of this big event!
The weeks following the coronation were full of celebration and festivity. I remember the days spent parading through the streets, carrying riders, banners, and messages, showcasing the might and prosperity of Scotland under its new king. I met some lovely horses there too - I still remember the white stallion named Silver with his beautiful, flowing mane! He was even more handsome than Blackwood, if I do say so myself.
The time I spent in Edinburgh was truly an experience I'll never forget. It broadened my view of the world, taught me that a humble farm horse like myself could play a significant role in the big scheme of things, and it gave me a taste of royal life and adventure!
I did feel a pang of longing for my hayfield home and my farmer's kind, reassuring voice. Still, there was an undeniable sense of honour and privilege in my heart. You know that feeling you get after a holiday, you’ve had a great time but it’s wonderful to be home!
After a few weeks, it was time for us horses to return to Hayfield. Blackwood led us back north, and although the journey was just as beautiful and exciting, I couldn't wait to see the farmer's face when he welcomed me back home. He had given me the opportunity to be a part of something much bigger than myself, and for that, I’ll always be thankful.
My tale is one of many in the tapestry of horse history. And while I may be a grey draft mare from a small farm in Scotland, my story is just as relevant and powerful as any other. We horses have a rich and vibrant history, filled with adventures and journeys that shape the world around us. So keep an eye out, my fellow equines, for I'll continue to share these tales on Equine World, ensuring our stories never get forgotten!
Stay strong, and may your hooves always hit the ground with a graceful rhythm!
