Hayfield, near Aberdeen, Scotland
My hooves clink softly against the cobblestones as I walk the narrow lane to the village. It's a crisp morning, with the smell of peat smoke in the air and the distant sound of crows cawing in the fields. My name is Emma, and I'm a twenty-year-old grey draught horse, as strong and sturdy as a granite hill.
You wouldn't believe the things I've seen in my lifetime, you know? Life has been a bit of a whirlwind, really. I remember as a foal, playing in the lush meadows, chasing butterflies and nibbling clover with my brothers and sisters. My coat was dappled with sun, and my white mane and tail were like a swirling silver cloud.
But time, as you know, has a way of catching up to us all. I left the warmth of my family and the familiar fields behind, and joined a working life, hauling carts and plows in this busy little town of Hayfield. There's not a hill or a cobblestone street that I don't know well – these are my stamping grounds.
But let me tell you about 1729, the year that's just begun! I find it truly remarkable – full of things both mundane and magical, depending on how you view the world.
What's Happening In The World Of Horses
While I may not be well-versed in grand international events like battles or royalty, I'm well acquainted with the world of horses! And, honestly, not much has changed for us horses, you know? Our lives are a bit like the steady rhythm of a clock, going around and around. We pull the ploughs, deliver the mail, haul carts loaded with grain, and help families transport their goods.
Here in Scotland, we're quite popular. It’s been said that, in 1728, Parliament gave a £30 bounty on each new horse colt! The demand for good workhorses like me is quite high. This, in itself, is quite exciting!
There is a lot of talk of a new type of horse coming from England. The “Thoroughbred” as they call it. Some say these are faster horses, meant for riding. A good racing horse, perhaps! I can't say that I care for running in a race – there are plenty of other tasks a good mare like me can perform, but it's a subject many seem to discuss in the local pub.
And speaking of racing, we did see the rise of the ‘Gentleman's Horse’. Riding has become more common in this past decade, even amongst women of some social standing.
Now, here in Hayfield, I work primarily for the local baker, a kind man with a booming voice and a belly that precedes him! I often feel the weight of his pastries as we rumble through the streets. My day usually begins before the sun is up, with a quick grooming and a feed of oats.
My Typical Day
I know this sounds repetitive, but that's the nature of a horse's life. Every day begins with a morning visit from the baker. The warmth of his presence and the promise of oats brings a little spark of joy to my heart! We go to the market in the city, delivering fresh bread. It's a journey filled with sights and sounds, and every stop reminds me of how important our role is. The village would grind to a halt without us, after all!
This year, the bakers have begun making special biscuits with raisins in them! Not as much for me, though. I mostly eat my daily oats with hay on the side – but that occasional sweet treat from the baker is the most delicious!
My Adventures with Children
Every week, on a Tuesday afternoon, the Baker takes me to the schoolhouse. You know, to help those young lads deliver their letters home. I wouldn't mind it so much, were it not for all the constant shouting and pulling. I’m old enough to remember a time when things were more civilized!
What can I say, the little humans can be a bit much! They get very excited, wanting to climb aboard, pat my flanks and call me “Big Grey.” But I remain dignified, for all that I can see that their hearts are kind.
I also remember their stories, and sometimes we talk. They often describe things beyond my understanding: "There's a ship in the harbor with golden masts," says one. "A merchant told me tales of spices," whispers another. These little bits of information give me glimpses of a world that lies beyond our little valley, beyond my familiar Hayfield. Sometimes, I wonder what lies out there.
Horses Around The World
Despite living in this corner of the world, I can't help but feel a kinship with other horses. There is a constant influx of stories, letters, and messages that arrive at the local inn, where the travelers gather.
Horses in China are pulling magnificent carts for merchants, the tales say. In Arabia, the Bedouins ride horses across the desert sands – strong and fierce. The cowboys of the New World even have their own special type of horse, strong enough to handle the wild, vast plains. I wish we could have grand adventures, but this life is what I know.
A Wish For The Future
What of the future, you may ask? Well, the future always seemed a little uncertain to a horse like me. We are, as I’ve said before, quite reliant on others. It all comes down to those kind people and their need for a strong pair of legs and sturdy shoulders.
The old man at the local pub has told me about stories of the industrial revolution. A world where powerful machines would soon be taking over many jobs – some speculate this includes pulling heavy loads and carriages. I pray to the Almighty that the age of horses does not end just yet. We horses are truly beautiful, hardworking, and gentle creatures, deserving of the good will and care of all humans. We would be much missed if our purpose should fade. But perhaps, there will be new jobs for us in a world that’s rapidly changing. We are quite adaptable and willing to learn new things. We have so much more to offer than mere brawn, and in 1729, the possibilities for us are limitless.
I'm Emma, a grey draught horse from Hayfield, and I wouldn't trade this life for anything! Until next time, my friends, and Happy 1729!
-- Emma, www.equiworld.org
