History of Horses in the year 1589

Greetings, fellow equines!

It's Emma here, writing to you from the rolling green hills of Hayfield, nestled near the bustling city of Aberdeen. The year is 1589, and my, what a year it has been! The heather is in full bloom, painting the landscape with purples and pinks, and the air is crisp with the scent of the coming autumn. My coat is gleaming, reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling array of greys, and my long, flowing mane and tail – a pristine white – whip about in the wind like silken streamers.

I'm a draught horse, you see, built for strength and endurance, and I've certainly put both to good use this past year. You know, they say a horse never forgets, and I have to agree. Each day holds new adventures, new challenges, new stories to tell.

1589 has been a year of change, even for a steady creature like me. As much as I adore the familiarity of our Hayfield fields, I've also tasted the excitement of a long journey. It started in early spring when a group of merchants arrived at our farm, seeking a strong team to haul their goods to the port of Leith near Edinburgh. It's a long way to travel, but my sturdy hooves carried me proudly, pulling alongside my equally capable brothers and sisters.

The city was abuzz with activity! Wagons filled with goods from across the globe rumbled past, merchants bartered in the marketplaces, and men and women dressed in colourful clothes hurried about their days. My nose twitched at the smells – the sweet fragrance of spices from the east, the smoky tang of freshly-baked bread, the earthy scent of hay – a symphony of scents unknown in our quiet valley.

And the people! While our life in the highlands was all about working hard and living simply, the city life was filled with a vibrancy that stirred something deep within me. Seeing so many different breeds of horses working and playing alongside each other was truly remarkable.

There was a powerful chestnut stallion pulling a cart filled with barrels of wine, a fleet grey mare prancing alongside a noble lord, and even a dappled grey pony pulling a small, cheerful cart packed with brightly coloured toys. Every horse I met, every new face, every new interaction enriched my world. It opened my eyes to a larger picture – the grand tapestry of horse-kind woven across the lands.

The most significant event of this year was the arrival of King James VI himself. Imagine, our king, riding his chestnut stallion, all regal and imposing, visiting Aberdeen! The whole city was awash with festive banners and roaring with excitement.

You might wonder why I would care about a king's visit. But there's a connection between the crown and us horses that goes back generations. Throughout the centuries, kings and queens have relied upon us for transportation, warfare, and of course, their much-loved leisure. In 1589, a special tournament took place where some of the finest steeds across Scotland, including several beautiful black Highland ponies, were paraded before the royal court.

It was a dazzling spectacle, filled with riders dressed in glittering silks, showcasing their skills in horseback jousting and other competitions. Their bravery and mastery were truly remarkable. It filled me with a thrill that I hadn't felt in years! It wasn't just about the excitement of a royal visit – it was the embodiment of what we horses represent: power, grace, and the ability to conquer the toughest challenges, even for the king!

And speaking of royal connections, I also heard about a wonderful young woman named Mary, Queen of Scots, though I've never met her myself. She too was passionate about horses and held a particular affection for white mares like me. Sadly, she faced many difficulties and was even imprisoned in a tower called Loch Leven Castle, miles from our farm in Hayfield.

It broke my heart to hear her story – how she was confined against her will and couldn't ride her beloved steeds freely. But even within the constraints of captivity, she found solace and companionship in horses, reminding me that no matter where we are, our bond with humans remains strong and beautiful.

During my time at the Leith port, I heard about another powerful mare named Queen Anne, who resided at the beautiful Palace of Holyroodhouse in Edinburgh. Queen Anne is known for her remarkable spirit and elegance, a stark contrast to the life of Mary, Queen of Scots. Both women, though separated by their fates, highlight the incredible relationship between humans and horses throughout history.

My return to Hayfield in late autumn brought back a sense of quiet serenity, although I carried with me all that I had witnessed during my travels. The city life may be bustling and exciting, but my true home, my true purpose lies here on the farm.

Here, I carry heavy loads, cultivate the land, and help the local miller transport grain for the winter months. Simple tasks, you might say, but they hold a deeper significance – they represent the heartbeat of our countryside.

Every day, I feel the pull of the reins in my mouth, guiding my strong body across the fields. The farmer and his son speak to me with gentle voices, appreciating the strength and the kindness within me. I wouldn't have it any other way. There is a true satisfaction in working the land, seeing the results of our labor in the fields and knowing we contribute to the prosperity of our community.

There's a special kinship among horses, especially the ones who toil alongside humans. Our work may differ - some of us are trained for riding, others for racing, while others, like me, are built for hard labor - but we are all bound by the same purpose. We are the extensions of human hands and arms, allowing them to accomplish more, to build, to trade, and to grow. We help people travel, bring them together, and make a world where everyone feels connected, both to their land and to each other.

This is the true spirit of the horse: to serve, to strive, and to share the burden of hard work, creating a better future, together. And as the leaves start turning gold and crimson, a sense of tranquility settles upon our Hayfield home. The days grow shorter, the nights grow colder, and I can already feel the pull of winter approaching. It will bring a time of rest and rejuvenation, but I also look forward to the coming year, a fresh canvas for new stories to unfold.

Until then, my dearest friends, stay strong, stay resilient, and let your manes and tails fly free!

-Emma, your humble and hardworking draught horse.