Hello everyone, it's Emma here, from the heart of Scotland, writing for Equiworld. Today, I’m sharing a little glimpse into what it’s like being a draught horse in the year 1572. I’m 20 years old, a sturdy grey with a white mane and tail. And let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot! I might not have been born a “gentleman’s horse” prancing about in the city, but life in Hayfield, near Aberdeen, has a unique kind of beauty.
Springtime in Hayfield
We welcomed 1572 with a symphony of birdsong. The world is bursting with new life, the meadows lush with buttercups and the air heavy with the scent of fresh clover. You can smell it, can’t you? That intoxicating perfume that gets right into your nostrils! I could spend the whole day just grazing in the sun, feeling the breeze rustle through my coat. My master, Thomas, would probably scold me for loafing though. He’s a good man, though a tad hard-headed.
It’s around this time, usually in May, when the young foals are born. Oh, they are such a joy to watch! So wobbly, and eager to learn the ways of the world. I remember my first wobbly steps, trying to stay upright with my mum. It’s a powerful instinct, you see. You know instinctively what you have to do as a foal. As for me, I'm too old for foal lessons now, but it's always heartwarming to see the new generation.
Summer Work
As the days grow longer and hotter, the rhythm of life picks up. Hayfield is in the throes of activity - haymaking, of course! We, the strong horses, are called upon to haul the heavy carts loaded with cut grass, a golden, fragrant mountain swaying behind us. My sturdy legs, my strong back, they are made for this. I’m no sleek thoroughbred, but I wouldn't have it any other way. There’s something about feeling the ground beneath you, the power you command, that gives a true sense of satisfaction.
We spend many summer hours working alongside our human companions. They sing lively Scottish songs as we plod our way through the fields, sometimes chatting with us like we’re their equals. There’s a strong bond, I’d say, between a horse and a man working the land. He relies on me, and I rely on him, a kind of unspoken agreement. He looks after me, keeps me healthy and fed, and in return, I give him my strength, my unwavering dedication.
Harvest Moon
September ushers in a time of rich harvest. The fields are brimming with golden wheat and the scent of apples hangs heavy in the air. The barns are bursting with gathered bounty. It’s a time of hard work, long days hauling, but the sense of community and camaraderie warms the soul.
We share our stories, recount our experiences of the fields and meadows, all of us, the mares, the geldings, even the frisky foals, coming together in the evening to enjoy the last warm rays of the day, our breath rising in a cloud as we munch on hay. We watch the moon rise, a harvest moon, large and golden in the twilight, and for a moment, feel a sense of stillness, the knowledge that despite the bustling world, we are home, safe and surrounded by friends.
The Winds of Change
Now, this year, 1572, was also marked by a change. They say down south, things are different, and people are talking about Queen Elizabeth on the throne, a Queen unlike any before her, ruling her country with intelligence and strength. You can hear stories whispered by travelers who come up from England - tales of new ships navigating the seas, new buildings rising up in the cities, and the talk of great battles.
My life is quieter, closer to nature, but I do feel a kind of stirring, a sense that things are changing in the world, slowly but surely. Maybe one day, I’ll see those wonders myself. Or maybe it's best left for those young horses just starting their journeys.
Horsepower for a Growing World
No matter where in the world you are, the year 1572 sees a steady progress. Horses like us, we remain the backbone of travel and trade. Our strength still plows the fields, carries goods across mountains and valleys, and helps build the lives of our communities. Yes, I admit it can be hard work, demanding strength and endurance. But the life of a draught horse, though filled with work, also brims with deep satisfaction. I can feel the steady pulse of life through my hooves, connecting me to the land, the people, and the larger story of our times.
I hope you found this glimpse into 1572 interesting. If you have your own stories to share, do post them on Equiworld! And remember, the next time you hear the click of horse’s hooves on cobblestones, or the thud of a wagon wheel on a rutted road, remember the unsung heroes behind them, working quietly, diligently, shaping the world with their strength and perseverance.
See you next time on Equiworld!
Yours truly,
Emma, The Hayfield Horse
