By Emma, Grey Draught Mare, Hayfield, Aberdeen
Hello my fellow equines and human friends! It's Emma here, a Grey Draught mare from the picturesque Hayfield, nestled amongst the rolling hills near Aberdeen, Scotland. And wouldn't you know it, it's time to travel back in time once again to the year 1631! As a draught horse, history is my passion, and it's always so interesting to see what our ancestors were up to!
So let's hitch up our imaginations and take a journey back to a year where, believe it or not, I was just a young filly with a future full of pulling power and boundless energy!
1631 - A Time of Change and Innovation
For those of us living in the rolling fields of Scotland, 1631 was a year that brought both challenges and new opportunities. I remember the chill of winter creeping in early that year, turning the fields white with frost. I was only a couple of years old, still learning the ropes from my dear old Mum, a strong, stoic chestnut mare named Bess. She taught me the finer points of grazing, how to find the sweetest patches of clover and the best way to nap in the sun. It was a tough winter for everyone, food was scarce, and my farmer, a kindly man named Iain, worked tirelessly to keep us fed.
However, spring arrived with a flourish and brought with it a sense of optimism. This was the time when I began my real training. While my Mum toiled in the fields, I, alongside a gaggle of other youngsters, learned the fundamentals of draught work: pulling carts, harrowing fields, and carrying heavy loads. It was hard work, and there were times my muscles ached, but the satisfaction of working alongside Iain and the other horses filled me with pride.
You see, my ancestors have been hard at work for centuries, hauling carts, wagons, and even the hefty plows that helped produce the crops that fed people across the country. We were, in many ways, the backbone of Scottish life, just like my sturdy, reliable kin were in England. We were the horses that moved nations, and we were admired for our strength and dependability.
But 1631 was also a year of new beginnings. With the introduction of the "gentle giant", a powerful yet amiable breed called the Shire Horse, to England, things were starting to change! Shire horses were huge - towering above even the biggest Clydesdales, like my cousins! And these impressive steeds were perfect for pulling heavy loads for the growing businesses and industries of England. Imagine that! Pulling ploughs, carts and even moving stones for construction, what a strong and reliable animal they must be! It gave me a sense of hope that even larger and stronger horses than us existed, opening up possibilities for the future.
Across the Ocean: The Wild Horses of the Americas
Across the ocean, a whole different story was unfolding. News from the Americas spoke of wild horses roaming vast prairies, descended from horses brought over by the Spanish conquistadors! Imagine, roaming free, a whole herd of them! My Mum and I always dreamed of freedom, to run through the fields with wild abandon. But here we were, stuck on a farm, fulfilling a crucial role but always craving a taste of that freedom. This story from the Americas brought the dream of free, roaming horses to life, a thought that always made our hearts flutter.
What We Did and Where We Went
But let's return to the more familiar world of 1631 Scotland! For me, life on the farm in 1631 meant hauling carts full of grain to the nearby mill, where we would trade the grain for freshly ground flour. It was quite a journey, but I loved the feeling of the breeze in my mane and the scent of the wildflowers by the roadside. And my fellow farmhorses - Duncan, a fiery red chestnut, and Millie, a gentle mare with a quiet grace, kept me company during these trips. They were like family to me!
At the Mill, we also met other horses. They came from different parts of the Highlands, some from nearby villages, some even from across the moors, hauling their own burdens to trade for grain or other goods. It was a busy and chaotic place, full of neighs and whinnies, but everyone seemed to get along just fine. It was like a small equine city!
We were often rewarded for our hard work with fresh hay, which is always a good thing. We were used to hard work. The farmer would take care of us, checking for any injuries and giving us pats on the neck to show his appreciation. It wasn’t always easy, sometimes we pulled heavy carts over rocky ground and our hooves hurt, but seeing the farmer’s relief as the carts arrived filled us with pride and a feeling of belonging.
Life beyond the farm
One of the biggest events that year, besides our daily toil and toil, was the great Highland Gathering at Edinburgh! The farmer had some business to do at the market there, and we, with all our muscle power, got to haul a cart laden with provisions and a few of the farmer’s horses there. It was a journey filled with excitement. Imagine, hundreds of horses all coming together, for all kinds of things!
There were racing horses, stallions and mares of pure grace and speed. They galloped at incredible speed, competing for fame and the thrill of the win. I was dazzled by their beauty, the gleaming coats and sleek muscles of these noble beasts. But I wasn't built for speed, I was meant for strength and reliability, just like my ancestors before me. I also admired the sturdy Highland ponies that carried riders and were used in transport, showcasing their remarkable resilience. It was wonderful to see the horses in all their variety!
It was in the Highland Gathering where I saw a unique breed of horse called the Shetland pony, small in size but sturdy and strong, well-suited to their rough and wild terrain. We marveled at the sight of them, strong and defiant amidst the chaos of the Gathering! I loved their fiery temperaments, it gave them a real character. We all gathered together for a moment of fellowship and shared some of the delicious oatcakes and cakes the farmer had bought. It was a real horse feast!
That event opened my eyes to a whole different world of horses. There were horses used for transportation, carrying passengers and pulling carriages on cobbled streets, not to mention all the magnificent horses used in war. I watched from a distance as a magnificent knight astride a fiery black stallion, their combined energy thrilling everyone watching, and made my hooves tingle! That year in Edinburgh gave me a glimpse into the many facets of horse life across the country.
My Personal Reflections
You know, even though I've only been living for a couple of years, the world of horses, like the human world, is a vast one, full of adventure and variety. Every horse has a different story, every journey a unique experience. Being a farm horse wasn’t always easy, it was filled with heavy carts, rough terrain and exhaustion, but it was rewarding to see the benefits our work provided, knowing we played a role in providing food for our community and enabling trade.
But I was young then, filled with a young horse’s hope and energy. There were dreams of galloping across meadows, a love for the smell of wildflowers, and the deep, soul-stirring freedom of roaming, unburdened and untamed. Like the wild horses of the Americas, I dreamed of boundless energy and wild freedom, a fleeting thought, sometimes forgotten but always remembered, a whisper of freedom carried in the wind.
As I grow older, and I am almost a grown mare now, I am content with my life on the farm. It is fulfilling to know we are the backbone of the countryside, our strength and resilience appreciated. I love my farmer, my work, and my companions. I also think I may soon become a mother myself! Oh the joys and struggles ahead of me as a mother, it is daunting and exhilarating. To carry and nurture a foal in my womb, my heart is full of anticipation.
But one thing is for sure: the life of a horse is full of adventure. Every year brings new experiences and new discoveries, and 1631 was no different! As for what 1632 will hold? I guess that’s for us all to see! Until next time, take care of your hooves, my fellow equine friends, and remember to appreciate the little things, like a juicy patch of clover, the feeling of the sun on your back, and the shared love of our beautiful world.
Until next time, from Emma in Hayfield, Aberdeen.
