Hello there, fellow equines! Emma here, your resident history buff from the rolling hills of Hayfield, near Aberdeen, Scotland. As a grey draught mare, I’ve been witness to some truly fascinating moments in history. It's been almost 20 years since I first took my wobbly steps on this fine Earth, and each passing year brings its own unique story. And today, I'm going to delve into the year 1819, a time brimming with both adventure and change for us horses.
As a workhorse, my life revolves around a steady rhythm. Every day starts with the early morning chill, the scent of oats and hay in the stable, the sound of the farmer’s voice as he calls us for the day's work. That's how 1819 began for me, just another year of hauling, ploughing, and transporting goods for our human companions.
But this year, the rhythm seemed to change subtly, like a whisper in the wind. There was a different energy to the air, a kind of nervous excitement buzzing through the towns and villages. It wasn’t all rosy, however. There were murmurs of dissent and rumblings of rebellion, carried on the wind from the distant cities.
However, here in the serene landscapes of Hayfield, life was much simpler. Spring brought its promise of vibrant green meadows and sweet, succulent grass. My foal, Jasper, was growing stronger by the day, learning the ways of the world and enjoying playful gallops across the fields with his siblings. We had a beautiful herd, all sharing a strong bond and deep understanding of the rhythms of nature.
Summer found me hauling heavy wagons laden with barley, heading towards the coast to be shipped off to distant shores. Our strength was relied upon for transporting people, cargo, and necessities, as well as transporting agricultural goods for trade. Seeing those imposing sailing ships, their white sails catching the wind, always fills me with awe.
Come autumn, it was time to be used in the fields again. The farmers relied on us heavily for tilling the land for planting next year’s crops, a slow, patient process under the cool, crisp air. In the evenings, we’d gather near the farmhouses for a comforting mug of warm bran mash, watching the stars emerge against the deepening blue of the twilight sky.
During the festive season, the mood in the villages transformed. Bells rang out, laughter echoed through the streets, and homes were adorned with bright decorations. Even us horses felt a shift in the atmosphere, sensing the joyous occasion and sharing in the community spirit. The Christmas period always brought a welcome break from work and we were given a special, celebratory meal of hay, oats, and apples, along with a gentle pat and kind words from our humans.
1819 wasn't just a year of work, however. We horses were finding our way into a different kind of life, one with a more luxurious touch. I heard stories of horses used in fashionable circles, horses participating in competitions of skill and speed. In London, they told of The Royal Stud, where stunningly beautiful steeds, like a sleek bay called Chestnut, lived a life of opulence, used in regal parades and ceremonies.
While my life might have been modest compared to Chestnut’s grandeur, it was a life I loved, full of connection with the natural world, my herd, and the hard-working humans I served. There were quiet moments of contemplation in the stillness of the morning mist, playful exchanges with my foals, the satisfaction of a day's work done. I’m no thoroughbred or racing horse, but my kind of strength and resilience is just as important.
The year ended with a whisper of snow, falling like feathers on the fields, blanketing the earth in soft white. As we nestled down for the winter, wrapped in our winter coats, I couldn’t help but think how life had changed, not just in 1819, but since the time my mother told me stories of a world where we horses were only seen as sources of food and strength, our potential largely untapped.
Today, things are different. We are appreciated for our power and agility, our unwavering loyalty, and our companionship. Horses, I feel, are stepping onto a path towards a more harmonious co-existence with our human friends. We're not just tools; we're part of their lives, and theirs, in a way, are intertwined with ours.
It is with a sense of quiet satisfaction that I share these reflections of 1819, a year that saw us horses continue our roles in the fabric of human society, while embarking on a journey of understanding and collaboration. Perhaps next year will bring more change, more progress. We'll have to wait and see! Until then, stay curious, stay spirited, and continue to appreciate the wondrous world of horses!
Best wishes from the hills of Hayfield,
Emma
(Don’t forget to visit the equiworld.org forums for a chance to chat with fellow horse lovers! You can also find photos of Emma, Jasper and her herd, as well as more articles about our equestrian past, present and future on the site!)
