A Highland Lass's Tale, By Emma of Hayfield
It's a lovely, bright morning here in Hayfield. The mist is lifting off the hills, revealing a clear blue sky above. A light breeze carries the scent of heather and wild thyme across the moor, and the air feels crisp and fresh after last night's rain. Ah, but that's the Highlands for you, isn't it? Constantly changing, ever enchanting. I’ve been feeling particularly contemplative this morning. Maybe it's because I'm twenty now, and time seems to be rushing by faster than a runaway cart on the old road. I thought perhaps this was a good time to record a little bit of history. Not just my own personal journey, but what's happening in the wider world of horses, you know? And so, dear readers, here’s to my little corner of EquiWorld in the year 1457.
I'm a Grey Draught horse, you see, strong and steady, born here in Hayfield, a little village near Aberdeen. My mane and tail are like spun silver, flowing down my back in a long, glorious waterfall of white. You see, they say my breed are descended from the legendary Celtic horses, sturdy and hardy enough to brave the Scottish winds and weather. We pull ploughs, transport goods to market, and yes, on special occasions, we even pull the grand carriages of the nobility. There are those in the stables who yearn to run in the tournaments, galloping with knights, their armour shining under the sun. But me? I’m happiest here, helping my fellow man. There’s an immense pride in being needed, in seeing the fruits of your labour grow in the fields or arriving at market, in knowing your strength provides a safe, comfortable journey for those on the road.
It was during a beautiful day like this one that I witnessed my first "gathering", as they're called here. Can you imagine? A whole field bursting with horses - hundreds and hundreds, their hooves beating on the ground in a rhythmic drum that shook the earth! It was truly magnificent. We Grey Draughts are quite strong, you know, but there’s a strength in numbers. You feel this in gatherings - the sheer power and energy that emanates from so many horses together. A strength that carries the weight of traditions, and a history woven through the centuries. It’s something that lingers long after the last horse has gone, leaving just an echo in the dust, a quiet energy still vibrating in the air.
The whole purpose of this gathering? It was to mark a new chapter in our history, a ceremonial occasion known as “The Sheepfold Project”. They say that sheep have become essential to this land. They need to move the sheep to different pastures so they have enough space to graze. We were all gathered to see a group of "experts" - I think they called them 'farmers' back then - who were experimenting with ways to make our lives a little easier. Imagine - trying to round up these furry creatures into makeshift enclosures. It was chaos at first! Then, after hours of trying, the sheep were eventually herded into these small stone pens they built, protected by fences made of strong timber, the first in our area. The experts talked about how it meant our work would become safer. How we would need to pull fewer heavy carts in the cold, wet, windy Highlands. Instead, they’d now use special “scoots” on wheels – those new contraptions are amazing, pulled by just one or two horses - to haul those same loads from place to place. It was a grand day, I remember, filled with hope and possibility. We were all so very excited, feeling our hard work, and indeed our future, becoming more manageable, more sustainable.
Now, while life for us Highland horses is a peaceful, quiet existence for the most part, news from far off lands keeps reaching our ears, and sometimes the whispers from beyond the hills become a strong breeze that carries important news, stories that touch every part of our equine world. For instance, it was around this time we heard tell of King Charles VIII. It seems he's the newest king in France, crowned just a few years ago, and he’s building a magnificent château! Apparently, the finest stonemasons have been commissioned to build his majestic home, and a whole fleet of magnificent horses are pulling the materials needed for its construction. Can you imagine all that movement? From the quarries to the building site! Those French horses are making a good living, I can tell you!
There was talk of horses used in battles, too. This was the news we were all trying to avoid hearing. They say the King, the new ruler of England - Henry VII - had a rather busy time earlier this year, with a fierce battle with Richard III at Bosworth Field, ending in the death of Richard and the coronation of the King we know today as Henry VII. A new dynasty for England, and our brothers and sisters on the battlefields played a big role. Of course, these are very uncertain times. It makes a Highland lass like me, working hard but with life's pleasures close by, appreciate the peaceful countryside we call home. It’s no wonder our farmers like us sturdy Highland horses – we are not only tough, we're loyal and strong, and good at taking instruction. This helps keep everything running smoothly, and our kind always play a vital role in maintaining a peaceful existence here.
Another bit of news has reached the village this summer – whispers carried by the winds on the hill, tales brought back from distant markets – this one comes from Italy, which they say is in a bit of a mess. The whispers talk of wars and a "merchant prince," who’s the real king and keeps everyone in check! It's a complex tale indeed, and some even suggest the horses there are being forced into hard, unpleasant labor, and this in the hot, dusty weather, and at the whims of their rulers! Such a fate doesn’t sound appealing at all. Thankfully, it’s so very different in these Highland hills. Here, they treat horses with respect. We're more like partners.
Anyway, let’s get back to those stone pens! Now that they are in place, life has become far more straightforward for our farmer. I remember when those first sheep were corralled and herded from the wilds into the small pens, what an important moment that was! What a feeling of shared hope and a belief in a better future for all of us. I do hope that these stones are a reminder of how hard we’ve all worked. They represent a brighter tomorrow - a day of hope, of hard work that makes a difference! They are not just pens; they are a monument to our spirit - the very essence of hard work and of shared endeavour.
Of course, our days in Hayfield, like all horses across this land, are full of busy tasks: tending to the fields, transporting goods to and from market, delivering food and supplies for the townsfolk. This time of year, it’s getting quite cold already - autumn is setting in, the air crisp and sharp with the smell of damp earth and burning wood. We even helped pull the lumber used to create new homes for some of our neighbours. There are always families looking for a new place to settle - or to expand their homesteads and build new stables, too! These are the projects that truly excite me! There’s something wonderful about watching houses rising, and knowing they will be full of laughter and life soon enough.
I find that sometimes the days pass very quickly, so many duties to fulfil, yet every so often there’s a beautiful calm moment. The sun sinks low in the sky, casting a warm glow across the hills. The cows graze peacefully in the meadows, their low moos a lullaby to the setting day. My stable-mates and I huddle together for warmth, chewing on hay and listening to stories. There are so many stories of horse ancestors told around the fires here. I listen and learn of battles fought, of kings crowned, and of brave riders who went into the unknown. The old tales of horses travelling vast distances, crossing deserts and climbing mountains. My journey pales in comparison! My days may not be glamorous, my tales are quiet and simple, yet I wouldn’t have it any other way. It's hard to express how happy I am right here, amongst these heather-covered hills, my home for life.
Oh! I almost forgot, one last story for my fellow EquiWorld followers - a very curious and wonderful story indeed! It has made its way to us here in Hayfield this autumn. Word of it even reached the castle. Seems there are horses in Constantinople, in that land of great stories and legend, horses who can read. Yes, it seems true. Horses who read! This was quite a big deal across this part of the world. They are not only known for pulling carts but can now also decode letters written by man! Imagine, if only our hooves could hold pens! Then we could read too. But in truth, I’m glad I don't have to - I love my job as it is, keeping this grand world running smoothly, and who knows, perhaps some day soon my journey too will have tales worthy of a bard’s songs!
Until next time, EquiWorld - I wish you a safe and happy ride.
Yours sincerely,
Emma of Hayfield, a Highland Grey Draught.
