Posted by Emma (grey draught mare, age 20) - Hayfield, near Aberdeen, Scotland.
Greetings fellow equines and horse lovers!
This year, 1875, has been a real mix for me. There have been big changes, not all of them easy, but also a whole lot of sunshine! As always, the farm is my haven. My old human family still looks after me. They aren't all here anymore, though. Mary got married, she was one of the eldest children, to a farmhand called James, and they went off to start their own family. They took a bit of the old work ethic with them, so there's a gap there - Mary was the one who used to brush my mane and tail. She knew exactly how much oil and what kind to use. I haven't felt quite the same since she left, but, in fairness, James has done his best to step in with the brushing - a good lad, that one, with gentle hands. He's not as talkative as Mary, though, and he hasn't gotten around to mastering my favorite head scratch routine! I'm working on him, mind you. It's important to take one’s time, just like when learning any new skill.
Things have settled back into routine. I work the fields in Spring, just like I have done all my life, hauling the plough and harrow. This is what my breed was meant for, of course. Grey draughts, we’re strong. Even at 20 years old, I still haven't let up on my strength or determination - never underestimate a draught!
We had a bit of trouble this year, though, come the height of the Summer, and my old master was pretty rattled about it. That lovely, lush, rich green grass we all look forward to each year? Not so much this time. There was barely any of it - it seemed to wither and die just as quickly as it grew! That was a sad thing to see. And guess what? That lovely plump barley we all like to graze on – didn’t sprout at all, much to the consternation of everyone at the farm. You know it's bad when they say things like ‘It’s the worst harvest for barley since the year the floods’ – the year we couldn't cross the fields at all, you see! They blame something called the ‘American blight’, but I don’t know exactly what it is, and it hasn't really settled down yet - the world seems a little bit darker when your tummy’s rumbling, that’s for sure.
Thankfully, our fields still managed to produce enough oats and potatoes to keep our own table and the families we work with fed. There was plenty to go around for me too, thankfully - my humans always look after my tummy, so I'm good in that regard! My legs may be getting a bit creaky, but I don’t know any grey who doesn't enjoy a good mouthful of barley or oats, let alone potatoes!
This was all a bit disconcerting to my master, and I think to the humans of other farms too - they were muttering a lot, and things felt just a little less rosy. There was talk of change and innovation, and a big part of that change centered around something new - the Steam Horse, or Tractor as they’ve now started to call them.
I overheard a group of humans talking in the stables. “They’ll be using that to pull the plough and cart”, one of them whispered, “and we’ll use the real horses for less strenuous tasks, I hear”. They seemed fearful. Maybe this steam engine wasn’t something to be feared after all. That was a lot of work for just two legs! It also seemed that the new age machines might be part of the solution to the strange things that were happening to the barley. As much as I was intrigued by the notion, I also found it unnerving. What could possibly replace something so old, so deeply ingrained in the history of this land?
What a strange world it all is! It seems like hardly a year passes when something new happens - something changes! Some years are worse than others - those are usually the times of weather we just don't understand, but then something good happens, some sort of invention that comes to rescue us all - the way it happened after those dreadful storms when my great-grandmother was still a filly - and the ‘wonderful new thing’ was the railway! Who would have believed a metal horse could haul us, humans, and even loads of hay or coal on a cart faster than a whole field full of draught horses could pull them in one day?! The Railway had given a new kind of strength to the human world! What will happen now? Who can say, what with the American blight making the grass wilted and that new machine replacing some of our work?
Despite everything, life here at the farm is a beautiful thing. As you may well know, the month of August means a feast for our souls! The Highland Games were at Blairgowrie this year. Every summer, the whole village, humans and horses alike, make our way down the dusty road in our best finery, ready for a grand celebration. Even though our human families didn't participate in the games - no humans on our farm had been particularly interested in tossing cabers or tugging on ropes, the excitement of this particular event still seemed to seep through the skin. We’d watch, ears pricked and feet fidgeting, as human men (and some strong women) displayed their skills, showcasing our history through the strength and dexterity of their muscles! We’d also marvel at the dazzling kilts, the joyous music, and of course, the dancing! You would never guess the strength and beauty these humans could display in such whirlwinds of movement, the men seemingly as powerful as we are in the fields.
In the years that I have been here in Hayfield, these festivals of our past, which are still held throughout the summer months, have helped to make sense of the future to me. I don't just feel like I’m on the precipice of something unknown, I feel that these new and curious events, this change and innovation, is simply a continuation of something that began a very long time ago - we have a deep history, something woven into our DNA! Every day I step out of the stable, I’m aware that generations of horses before me toiled and loved and learned and carried their responsibilities with an almost invisible fortitude. How wonderful to know I am one small link in such a vast and powerful chain, so important to so much of history itself! How lovely to still be connected to it! The knowledge gives me courage to embrace whatever the future might hold. Maybe my future will include Steam Horses! Who knows?
This year’s event at Blairgowrie felt like a celebration of a sort, as the humans had chosen to build a statue to honor our work - in memory of ‘Our Strength’. I understand they erected it in the town square. This really seems to highlight what our true purpose is.
What a lovely sentiment – a statue to honor all of our contributions over the years. As proud as I am to carry that mantle – I, a grey draught horse - it doesn’t take away from my real reason to be – and that’s to be with the farm, with my people! Yes, I'm happy to do my part, even though that might involve a steam engine sharing some of our responsibilities. After all, nothing can quite match a grey draught with its ‘innate understanding’ of the fields and the crops and, yes, the humans.
My job is simple, really. To help to provide, to make the ground rich, and to always be present, ready for a good scratch behind the ears – it's these moments of quiet connection that ground me. I hope everyone reading this is enjoying the end of Summer as much as I am! And maybe, just maybe, some of us can all look forward to that steam horse - a wonderful opportunity for our world to embrace a new invention - a symbol of hope, not just here at Hayfield, but all across the globe.
Stay safe and happy, my fellow equines! And please, write in! I’d love to hear how your lives are changing. I especially look forward to news from horses far away in places like Ireland, or France, or even Australia - imagine that, living so far away from the rolling green hills of my home country! We’ll keep you updated on the world’s events from Hayfield – hopefully we’ll all be safe and content!
Until next time, Emma
