History of Horses in the year 1778

Hello, fellow equines! It's Emma here, a 20-year-old grey draught horse with a snowy white mane and tail, writing to you from the picturesque meadows of Hayfield, just outside of Aberdeen. The sun is dappling the field, the birds are singing their sweet morning song, and the air is fresh and crisp – perfect for a morning gallop! I must confess, however, my pace is slower than it once was. At twenty, I am a seasoned mare, a matriarch even, within my little herd. I lead them through the lush pastures, offering them the wisdom of my years.

Today, I thought I’d share some reflections on this remarkable year, 1778. What a whirlwind! A great deal has been happening in our horsey world, and while I am too far north to be involved directly in many of these grand events, my ears prick up when tales from afar reach our meadow.

Firstly, we mustn't forget the vast land of America, where horses have truly been making a name for themselves. I hear whispers of the amazing exploits of the American Cavalry during their recent war with Britain. They are spoken of with both respect and envy. To imagine, the thrill of a charge on horseback across the fields of battle, hooves pounding the earth, wind in my mane – ah! The thrill!

Of course, horses are also hard at work in the American colonies, pulling plows in newly established farms, ferrying goods, and even being trained as mounts for those who have mastered the saddle. While many colonists arrived with their beloved steeds, it seems many also found it easier to rely on the abundant native horses they encountered upon arrival. I heard whispers of these majestic creatures, powerful, sleek, and strong, truly a breed to behold. Perhaps one day, I shall be lucky enough to meet one of them myself.

Back in dear England, the carriage trade has become the true rage. It seems almost impossible to move from one place to another without being met with a flurry of carriages and steeds. From the King's Royal Horses in the bustling metropolis of London to the well-to-do families who boast of their sleek phaetons, the carriages have become synonymous with wealth, prestige, and speed.

Of course, the breeding of horses has reached an entirely new level as a result. I have even heard whispers of thoroughbred horses being imported from England and their lineage meticulously tracked for generations! Imagine the pressure to perform at one's best! Such a feat certainly wouldn't suit my easy-going nature. Here in Scotland, we appreciate the hardworking draught horse – for the tilling of fields, the hauling of hay, and the long journeys we take across our rugged, yet stunning, Highlands.

Speaking of Scotland, here in Hayfield, our days are simpler, our work rewarding. I love nothing more than a long day spent helping farmer MacGregor in the fields. I still enjoy a good run – just to be clear! – and nothing brings a more joyful neigh from me than feeling the wind in my mane and the sun warming my coat.

Life as a draught horse is quite fulfilling. It brings a different kind of satisfaction than racing or competing, perhaps, but no less important. We carry the weight of our land on our strong shoulders, our hooves the backbone of Scotland's strength. Our contribution might not be celebrated on grand battlefields or glamorous racetracks, but it is as important nonetheless. The rhythm of life in the countryside is comforting, steady, and true.

This year has brought much change, not just in the world, but here in our meadow as well. One of my old companions, a mare named Rosie, has been sent to the miller in Aberdeen. It saddened me deeply to see her go – for she was more than just a horse companion, but a sister of the soul. She will help him bring in his harvest. It was a tearful goodbye, but I trust Rosie will be content in her new home, contributing to a good cause.

In her place came a beautiful young filly – her name is Hazel, a clever lass with a quick mind and boundless energy. I'm teaching her the ways of the field, the joys of the Highland breeze, and the importance of working together. My heart is full, knowing that a new generation of Scottish horses is ready to carry on the legacy, and perhaps, someday, create new stories of their own.

I hope you have all been well, dear reader! Whether you are a wild Mustang roaming free in the American wilderness, a magnificent thoroughbred trotting the English countryside, or a gentle workhorse like myself, our stories are connected, woven together through our shared love for the land and the bond that we share. We may lead different lives, but our hooves all leave their mark upon this world, contributing to its growth and prosperity. We are the pulse of the earth, the symbol of power, grace, and hard work. May we continue to stride with pride and strength in these times, leaving behind a legacy for the generations that follow.

Until next time, remember, our hearts beat as one, we are the equines, and this world is ours to share.