Greetings, fellow equines!
It's Emma here, writing to you from my humble abode in Hayfield, just a stone's throw from the bustling city of Aberdeen. I must say, 1850 is proving to be a rather momentous year, and I feel compelled to share my experiences with all of you, my dear Equiworld readers.
The year began as most do - a frosty morning chill followed by the welcome warmth of the sun as I ambled through the fields, pulling my farmer's cart laden with hay for the cows. Spring blossomed in a riot of colour, a stark contrast to the muted browns and greys of the winter months. This time of year is my favourite – the air is sweet with the scent of wildflowers, and the days grow longer, allowing us to stretch our legs and enjoy the beautiful scenery.
The year 1850, however, brought with it an exciting undercurrent that felt quite different from the ordinary. The news of progress reached our humble valley like a whisper on the wind. It spoke of a new world – a world where machinery was replacing men, a world where steel and steam were shaping the future, a world of railways and fast-moving carriages. This new world was exciting, albeit a little unsettling for a humble workhorse like myself.
Our farmer, a kind old man named Angus, would often sit with me after a long day's work, telling me about these advancements. He’d speak of "locomotives," huge, iron beasts that roared across the land, and of carriages that ran on metal rails, transporting people and goods at unheard-of speeds. I'd stand there, patiently listening, my ears pricked with curiosity.
While some horses scoffed at the thought of being replaced by these newfangled contraptions, Angus reassured me that we, the true horses, would always have our place. He explained that while some tasks would be handled by the “Iron Horse,” we would still be needed for everything else, from transporting goods within the countryside to ploughing the fields. This eased my worries, though the thought of a roaring iron beast chugging past our fields filled me with a mixture of trepidation and wonder.
One of the highlights of this year was attending the Aberdeen Agricultural Society show in September. It was quite the spectacle, with so many horses gathered in one place – draught horses, carriage horses, racing horses – even the occasional Shetland pony. The air buzzed with excitement, a constant cacophony of hooves striking the ground, mingled with excited chatter.
I even met a young Shire horse from England, a majestic chestnut named Cedric. We were both part of the demonstration of plowing, showcasing the strength and skill of heavy draught horses. I must say, the judges were impressed by my powerful stride and the smooth way I navigated the challenging furrows. It was a real confidence booster for a humble grey mare like myself!
Beyond the agricultural scene, however, 1850 seemed to be a year of great change in the horse world. As the railways spread their network across the land, our role in the transport industry was inevitably changing. Coaches were replaced by carriages propelled by steam, and even the post was starting to make use of these mechanical marvels.
Yet, this change was not all doom and gloom. New possibilities arose for us. The rise of horse-drawn carriages led to the establishment of horse-drawn carriage services in many cities, creating new employment opportunities for horses like myself. I had the opportunity to chat with a young bay mare who had moved to London to work as a cab horse. She told me of bustling streets and constant activity, of dashing through the crowded city streets, helping people get around with speed and efficiency. It sounded exhilarating and exciting!
And, of course, horses remained firmly at the heart of sports. The races at Newmarket continued to be a grand spectacle, and horse-drawn hunting was still very much in vogue. I must confess, the image of gentlemen in red coats and tall hats dashing through the countryside on horseback was always a source of great envy for me. Even if I wasn’t destined to be a hunter myself, I enjoyed the opportunity to witness the beauty and grace of horses performing feats of agility and skill.
Although the pace of life seemed to be quickening around us, in my peaceful Hayfield home, life continued its tranquil rhythm. Each day, I rose with the dawn, ate my hearty breakfast of oats, and set off with Angus to do our daily work. I relished the moments we shared, his hand gently stroking my mane as he chatted about his hopes and dreams, about the ever-changing world and its new wonders. I loved to listen to his stories of the past, the days when the world was a quieter, simpler place, where horses reigned supreme, and every task involved the strength and grace of a horse.
As the year 1850 drew to a close, a deep sense of peace settled upon me. Though the winds of change blew strong, I was grateful for the familiar rhythm of my life, for the steady pace of my days, and for the bond I shared with Angus and my fellow horses. We, the horses, would remain vital members of the human world, each contributing in our own way, even as the world around us moved ever faster. And though the roar of steam engines and the rumble of trains sometimes broke the silence of our peaceful valley, we continued to stand, our heads held high, with the dignity and resilience of a true horse, our hearts strong and our spirits bright.
Until next time, dear Equiworld friends!
Emma
Hayfield, near Aberdeen
December 1850
