Greetings, fellow equines!
Emma here, a 20-year-old grey draught mare from Hayfield, just outside of lovely Aberdeen, Scotland. You could say I'm a seasoned veteran when it comes to the life of a working horse, but even after all these years, there's always something new to learn and something exciting to discover in our equine world.
Today, I want to whisk you back in time, dear readers, to the year 1642. Ah, 1642, a year brimming with change, drama, and yes, even a dash of danger! You see, I wasn't always just a field horse, helping out at Hayfield farm. My story spans more than just my years on this beautiful farm; it reflects a wider picture of the world's fascination with us, horses.
For you see, 1642 wasn't just a year for the big human events - a year for wars, for change of power, for new inventions - it was also a year filled with stories for us, horses. From the rolling fields of Scotland to the bustling streets of London, our four legs were at the heart of life, carrying everything from people and supplies to goods and dreams.
Life on Hayfield Farm
Life at Hayfield in 1642 was simple but fulfilling. Our farm wasn't vast, but it provided a comfortable living for our owners, the MacGregors, and, of course, for all of us horses. As a grey draught mare, I was well-suited for my duties, strong and sturdy. You see, we didn't have tractors or modern machinery back then - everything was done with the strength and skill of horses like myself. We plowed the fields, pulled the carts, and hauled the heavy loads. I especially loved the long drives across the beautiful Scottish countryside, pulling a cart loaded with fresh milk or the fragrant heather gathered for drying.
The Smell of Freshly Plowed Fields
Do you ever get that feeling when you first smell the freshly plowed soil in the spring? It’s as if you’re taking a deep breath of the very essence of the earth itself! It was an aroma I’d eagerly anticipated throughout winter, a clear signal that it was time to get back to work, to be truly useful, and to feel the sun on my back. It meant, of course, hours of pulling the plow and cultivating, my hooves churning the rich soil. Yet, that feeling of accomplishment, of having created something from the earth, made every strain and every pull worthwhile.
The Stables - My Sanctuary
After a day of work, it was back to the stable, where I'd meet my stable-mates, a beautiful bay called Robin, and a chestnut mare named Bess. We would chew our hay and enjoy the shared companionship. The stables, filled with the scent of hay and manure, the gentle clip-clop of hooves and the rustling of straw, were a warm and comforting place. We shared tales of our days - Robin's adventures pulling the blacksmith's cart, and Bess's exploits fetching supplies for the village baker. We shared meals and gossip, all while listening to the creak of the stable door and the quiet sigh of the wind outside.
The Scottish Landscapes
Ah, the Highlands of Scotland. They’ve changed little since the days I pulled my farmer's cart, hauling turnips and potatoes to market. The same breathtaking rolling hills, the same misty mornings that give way to crisp blue skies, the same roaring rivers that carve through the valley... these were the things I knew and loved. The landscapes were harsh yet stunningly beautiful.
On days when the farmer had some free time, we'd often be taken out on long walks across the Highlands. Those days were for pure pleasure, the feel of the wind in our manes, the scent of heather on the breeze. I’d happily graze on the wild clover, a treat not available in the farmyard, or roll in the warm, dry earth after a long day. It was these peaceful days that cemented my connection to my Scottish home.
The Sound of Horseshoes Ringing on Cobblestones
I was still young in 1642, so I hadn't yet ventured beyond the Hayfield fields. But I did know that the city of Aberdeen, just a day's ride from us, teemed with life and bustle. My owners would talk about the busy port, where ships came in from all parts of the world. They described the vibrant market square, the sound of horseshoes ringing on cobblestones, the carts loaded with produce, and the bustling human energy. My hooves itched to experience that bustling world, to taste the freedom of those city streets.
Horses at War: The Fight for the King and Parliament
Even while Scotland, my home, was safe and serene, there were stirring events unfolding just beyond our horizon. In 1642, the conflict between the King and Parliament began to boil over, and Britain found itself in the throes of the English Civil War. We heard tales from returning travelers - stories of battles, of regiments marching across the land, and sadly, of wounded horses struggling on the battlefield. It was a reminder that even as we lived a life of relative peace and harmony, we were connected to the wider world.
Horses in the News
These events made me realise that even our horses played an important role, and that their stories deserved to be told.
From the field horses that supported armies by hauling provisions and supplies to the cavalry chargers that bravely charged into battle, the story of the horses during those tumultuous years were an integral part of the human struggle. Some were lucky enough to carry knights or officers, others worked tirelessly hauling supplies, often under perilous conditions.
For many of them, these wars brought danger, fear, and death. Their stories - stories of courage, of resilience, and of hardship - often went untold. But they should be remembered. I knew then that I wanted to chronicle the experiences of horses during these important historical moments, to highlight the impact of these changes upon the world of horses. It's the inspiration for this very blog!
Looking Ahead
Now, we horses aren’t only working, fighting, and hauling; we're also symbols, objects of beauty and grace. This much hasn’t changed since 1642. In 1642, as well as hauling produce and equipment, we horses were symbols of wealth, prestige, and power. The aristocracy enjoyed the pleasure of riding and keeping elegant, pedigreed horses, a reflection of their position and status. And yes, it was our bloodlines that provided for those magnificent steeds, but it was us, the hard working horses, who truly held this society together.
And here we are, many centuries later. Even as time marches on, there are lessons we learn, wisdom we gain from these bygone eras. Looking back on the year 1642, I see that even in times of hardship, even amidst turmoil, we, as horses, continue to serve our humans, to carry their burdens, and to be their partners. I believe it is that shared partnership, that human-horse connection, that will continue to guide us through the pages of history.
Remember to check in next time, for I’ll be continuing our journey through history. I’m looking forward to seeing what treasures await us next in this grand adventure!
With a hearty whinny,
Emma
www.equiworld.org
