By Emma, a Grey Draught Mare, Hayfield, Scotland
Welcome, dear readers, to another post from your favourite draught mare, Emma! It's a lovely day here in Hayfield, with the sun dappling through the leaves and the scent of heather filling the air. The world feels alive with the energy of autumn and the promise of a long winter slumber.
It’s been quite a year, and I've had much to think about! We’re smack-bang in the middle of 1592 – a year with lots happening around the globe. From exciting expeditions to changing fashion, the world of humans is never standing still. But how do all these happenings affect the lives of us, horses?
Let's embark on a journey through the year together. Let me tell you all about it from my own perspective, from the comfort of my sturdy stable here in Hayfield.
Spring, 1592
The ground had just begun to soften from its icy grip when I was first harnessed to the plough. It felt good to be back in the fields after a long winter of rest. Spring, oh spring! How I do love the fresh scent of the newly-turned earth and the warmth of the sun on my coat.
Our little farm was bustling with activity as the farmers planted their crops. It was the busiest time of the year, but we were always well looked after. I remember how the farmer's wife would pat me gently and tuck a juicy carrot behind my ear. Her hands were rough from working the land, but she always had the softest touch.
Our team, a sturdy collection of brown, black, and grey draught horses, worked tirelessly through the planting season, but it wasn't all work and no play. There was time for snorting, neighing, and playful nuzzling with our stablemates. My good friend, a strong brown stallion named Ben, always kept me on my toes with his antics. He had a penchant for playfully trying to steal my breakfast, which always led to a boisterous but good-natured chase around the stable yard.
Summer, 1592
Summer, of course, was a glorious time! The meadows were filled with sweet-smelling clover, and the sun seemed to linger for hours in the sky. As the farmer's wife put it, "We toil under the blessed sun, so the harvests will be plentiful." We weren't just working the fields either, we were taking part in a big harvest festival down in the town of Aberdeen!
Aberdeen was a long way from Hayfield, and it was quite an adventure! Our human companions, along with other horses and their human companions, journeyed in a big, loud group. We saw castles and towering churches, and heard so many stories from our human friends about their lives in the bustling city. I found myself wishing I could understand all of the stories, for they were as captivating as the scenery we passed by.
The harvest festival was truly magnificent. The smell of roasted barley and roasted meats filled the air. The people were lively and generous. And of course, the sight of countless horses from all over the region was a sight to behold.
We also had the pleasure of seeing horses adorned in finery for the chariot races. Some were fitted with bright red, yellow, or green trappings, others in woven designs from different fabrics. I even saw one horse wearing a feather plume on his head! It made me feel rather plain, to be honest, but the festive mood certainly outweighed that little pang of insecurity.
Autumn, 1592
Autumn rolled in with its vibrant colors – golds, russets, reds – and the scent of burning leaves carried by the wind. The mornings were getting crisper, and we horses spent a good deal of time in the barns, chewing on hay and dozing in the warmth. The harvest was a great success, with an abundance of wheat, barley, and oats for the winter months. I overheard the farmer talking about the need to save the surplus for "winter sustenance for man and beast". It’s important for us, you see, to help feed our human families too.
As the harvest was finished and winter was approaching, I found myself thinking about my human companions and how much I valued their care and company. They’ve been so kind, giving us oats and fresh hay every day, and ensuring we have cozy stalls. The farmer, who has the warmest eyes, told us about the news from the south.
News From Faraway Lands
From far away Spain, the stories speak of an exploration that began this year, back in the spring. The explorer, a man named Francis Drake, with his band of daring seafarers, had taken a ship out to sea and journeyed west across the Atlantic Ocean. It was a dangerous trip – there were storms and calms, and the vast sea, as one human friend put it, “is always watchful.” But they are sailing in search of the fabled Spice Islands in the east!
My friends in the stable were quite amused at the idea of searching for spices – all we horses care about are good quality hay and enough carrots for lunch!
This explorer, Captain Drake, is not the only one with ambitions. Over the mountains, across the seas, another adventure was taking place, one that brought new dangers to our world. News arrived on a dusty courier, a message to the King of Scots – and that is what shook the land where I live.
Winter, 1592
The long shadow of winter settled over the land. Snow covered the hillsides, turning the countryside into a beautiful, quiet realm. Our work lessened – we were busy, though, hauling the supplies to keep the farmer's families and animals fed through the cold months. I saw the farmer’s young daughter – she is so kind and gentle with all the animals – playing in the snow with her big Newfoundland dog. He looked almost like a mountain of white fur as he galloped through the snow, and it was quite funny seeing his large tongue stick out and try to catch snowflakes. I wondered, if I were human, how it might feel to play in the snow like that.
However, the peacefulness of our farm was soon disrupted by the news that reached us – war has come to the lands. The Scottish King is having to rally his people for war against the King of England! The humans said they're struggling for independence, for freedom. The people in our villages have begun gathering supplies, and soldiers are traveling around, asking for horses to help fight. The barn was full of murmurs and uneasy feelings, especially amongst the younger, stronger horses – all too eager to test themselves and feel a rush of adrenaline in their veins. But the farmer assured everyone, “we have been a haven, a quiet place of sanctuary, all year. We will not be going to battle."
My heart ached for those horses who were going off to battle. It wasn't the work that bothered me, but the thought of injury, of loss. We, however, will continue with our daily chores – a gentle routine that keeps our spirits steady in these uncertain times.
The Power of Horses, a Constant in a Changing World
The world outside our humble farm may be experiencing turbulent changes and adventures – wars and voyages across distant seas, new innovations, and the changing tastes of human fashion. But for us horses, there is comfort in the simplicity of our existence.
It’s comforting knowing that we have an important part to play. We help grow the food that nourishes our human families and enable travel and transport across the land. Whether the world is a place of conflict or calm, our work remains a constant, and in our strong, willing spirits, our humans find hope.
We endure, with our enduring, willing strength, throughout the year, whether in the warm embrace of summer or the frosty grip of winter.
So, there you have it, my dear readers – a year in the life of a humble farm horse, 1592. Until next time!
Love,
Emma
