History of Horses in the year 1804

#1804 - The World through a Grey Mare's Eyes - Emma's Blog

Well, my dear readers, a new year has begun, and the crisp morning air is filled with the smell of winter frost, yet my heart is alight with the warmth of hope. I am Emma, a grey draught mare with a white mane and tail, hailing from the lovely town of Hayfield, near Aberdeen. The year is 1804, and as a young mare of 20 summers, I’m always eager to see what this year will bring.

These last few years have been an exciting time to be a horse. From the bustling market squares of Aberdeen, to the rolling farmland beyond, there is much work to be done, and the demand for a horse’s strength is high.

The life of a working horse isn’t always easy, mind you. We are the backbone of transport, moving heavy loads for farmers and merchants alike, but it’s a life filled with purpose and routine that I cherish.

Right now, I’m standing in my stable, listening to the muffled rumble of the morning traffic and feeling the familiar tickle of straw beneath my hooves. It's a simple pleasure, but these simple joys are what make life good, don’t you agree?

You know, my younger cousin Tilly – she’s a spirited little mare, only just four years old – was telling me about the rumblings in the city of London. There are some curious machines they call “steam engines”, and apparently they’re being used to power factories.

I can’t say I'm excited about it. Nothing replaces the power and elegance of a fine horse. The rhythmic click of hooves on cobbled streets, the feeling of the wind in your mane as you trot across the moor – it's a feeling that's deeply ingrained in our souls.

But these machines are changing things. Tilly heard from a traveller that in some cities they are already replacing us for carrying goods and hauling cargo. I wonder if one day they’ll be used for pulling ploughs? The thought makes me shudder. There’s no substitute for a good horse’s instinct for knowing the right time to pull and the right pace to keep. Machines might be powerful, but they lack our hearts, our passion for the land, and our love of the countryside.

Tilly is worried, but I tell her not to fret. We’ll still have our place in the world, even as things change. There's a magic to a horse's spirit that machines simply cannot replicate. The wind whipping through your mane, the smell of the earth under your hooves, the connection you share with your human companions – these are things that will never be lost, even if our role evolves.

Right now, our days are mainly focused on field work, preparing for the upcoming harvest. But I'm eager to hear about the other happenings of the year!

My friend Angus, a sturdy, black stallion from the next village, told me that the grand “Royal Highland Show” will be held again this year. Imagine: the bustling crowds, the proud display of horses of all breeds, the clatter of hooves and the sound of the pipe band. The mere thought of it sets my heart thrumming with excitement.

And in a few short weeks, it’s “Banff Races”, the biggest horse racing event in all of Scotland. The energy is electrifying, the air is alive with cheers, the thrill of the race as fast as a gust of wind! The mere thought of it fills my legs with strength and my heart with hope for a fast and thrilling race.

But amidst the festivals and competitions, life is always work for a horse like me. My humans need me to till the soil, to haul the wagons loaded with hay and potatoes to the market, and to carry riders on the long road journeys that connect us all.

I may be just a grey draught mare, but my life is filled with meaning. Each day, I feel the connection with the earth beneath my hooves, the strength that runs through my limbs, and the warmth of belonging within my stable family.

This is the year I'll be reaching the peak of my strength, and my humans have hinted at plans to breed me this autumn. The thought of a little colt, a tiny mirror of my strength and spirit, fills me with a curious, bubbling joy.

I'm eager to learn about all the other stories unfolding throughout the world of horses, from the majestic Thoroughbreds running in England to the powerful shires used for farming across the world. This world of ours, though filled with hard work, is a grand tapestry woven from the love and the strength of horses, from the bustling market square to the quiet fields beyond. I'm sure, dear readers, we’ll have much to share in this new year. Until next time, may your steps be sure, your hearts content, and your stables warm.

Yours in mane and tail,
Emma