Hello fellow equines!
It’s Emma here, your friendly grey draught mare from Hayfield near Aberdeen. Welcome back to my horse history blog. Today, I’m stepping back in time to 1487, a year filled with a great deal of uncertainty but also a lot of hope, at least in the horse world.
You see, as the centuries unfold, the horse world is never stagnant. There are always new developments, changing ways, and interesting stories waiting to be unearthed.
Now, imagine for a moment the world as I knew it in 1487, as a 20 year old, strong, and surefooted grey draught mare with a white mane and tail - a splash of colour, so they said, against the rugged Highlands backdrop. My life was full of toil, hard work, and yes, even love.
Let’s start with the most immediate issue of the day. My life, as well as the lives of many of my equine companions, was very much focused around agriculture. We were the engines of the land, the muscle behind the plough, and the reliable transportation for goods. You see, without horses like me, farmers would struggle to move their harvest, transport their supplies, and maintain the fields that fed the families.
Hayfield, with its fertile land, provided the perfect setting for our toil. And let me tell you, we weren’t just any horses - we were Scottish Draughts. We had the power and strength of the Highland breeze itself! Just the sight of us could send a shiver down a farmer’s spine with fear and respect in equal measure.
Our days were long, the sun rising with us and setting with our final task completed. It wasn’t easy work, but we knew that what we did mattered. We fed the people, built their homes, and kept them moving forward, despite the hardship.
But even with this arduous life, 1487 held a certain charm - it was the year of the White Horse!
You see, 1487 wasn’t just a number on a calendar - it was the year when James IV was crowned king in Scotland. This meant a change in the Royal stable, as King James IV decided to create his own breed of war horse, one known for its prowess, courage, and spirit - the White Horse.
A white horse for a new king - the image was potent, a symbol of strength, nobility, and purity. This trend, this newfound focus on the White Horse, impacted the whole kingdom, even the working class horses like me. It added a sense of grandeur to our lives, even if we were more workhorse than showhorse.
We were still the muscle behind the kingdom, the silent strength that propelled everything, but even we noticed the new emphasis on colour and show. Even within our humble lives, a sprinkle of glamour emerged. You could sense it when the knights in the town of Aberdeen would ride their white chargers, shining in the sunlight as they prepared for the grand joust. And we could hear the stories the merchants told about King James IV’s love for his white warhorses.
And this brings me to my favourite aspect of the horse world in 1487. Although not everyone could afford the white charger or even a thoroughbred, there was a strong sense of community and kinship between horses.
There were races organised on village green fields. The local villagers, the families that relied on us to work their land, would come out to celebrate. These were days of revelry, and it was more than just racing. We’d enjoy delicious treats, the sweet smell of hay in the air, and share stories of our lives, with our families watching us proudly.
We were the heartbeat of the countryside - each year brought a new challenge, new hardships, but also moments of pure joy, reminding us why we loved life and the company of fellow equines.
One event that stood out to me during that time was the annual harvest festival at our neighbouring town of Banchory. Each year, a whole community came together for days of celebration. We'd pull the decorated carts, carrying local produce and crafts, parading them through the bustling market, showcasing our strength and grace.
The young foals, my little ones, they loved this festival most! They would romp through the meadow, playful and joyful, and you’d see young children join them in their games.
But 1487 was also a year of change in another way, an important change. The art of training and breeding horses began to shift in subtle but profound ways.
We could feel it in the air. Farmers and skilled horsemen took a keen interest in improving the breeds. The Blacksmith’s forge, once only for the tools, was starting to take on a different life - the blacksmiths began creating horseshoes specifically for the different breeds, from the sturdy draught horses like me to the agile and fast horses used for transportation.
The use of the saddle became more common, especially for travelling long distances and military pursuits. My fellow horses and I would see young noblemen training their horses in the field, using these new saddles to develop their skill and stamina. They weren't just riding anymore, they were partnering, learning, and understanding the language of the horse.
I’d often watch them in silent appreciation. There was a certain kind of freedom that I saw in these horses. We were the ones who did the heavy lifting, but those horses had this wild spirit about them. It made me proud to be a part of this horse world, where different horses each had their own purpose and their own place in the grand scheme of things.
As I continue on my journey through time, I can’t help but reflect on the simple life of a horse back then. Our days were filled with work, routine, and a strong connection to the land and our families. We weren't the centre of the world, but we were its silent heartbeat.
I may have been a grey mare with a white mane and tail, working tirelessly on the fertile plains of Hayfield, but my story was just one of countless others. The horse world was filled with individuals, each with a unique role to play.
And now, here I stand, at the doorstep of 1488, ready to welcome the next adventure. The horse world never stops evolving, changing, and progressing, but that is part of its beauty.
As always, let’s embrace each day and keep this strong bond of community between humans and horses alive.
Until next time, happy trails and see you in the saddle,
Emma
