My dears,
How do you do? It's Emma here, a twenty-year-old grey mare with a penchant for oats and a soft spot for gentle hands. I hail from Hayfield, a peaceful corner of Aberdeenshire in Scotland, where the rolling hills meet the brisk North Sea air. And believe me, the air here is full of stories! Especially when you've lived a life as rich and full as mine.
This year, 1917, has been quite a ride, quite literally. The whole world seems caught in a web of upheaval, this “Great War” they call it, that has spread its shadows over everything. But here in Hayfield, we try to keep our chins up, focusing on the simpler things, the sweet green grass, the smell of the hayfields in the late summer sun, and the reassuring clip-clop of hooves on cobblestones.
But the war is impossible to ignore, not with so many fine lads leaving to fight for King and Country. My heart aches for them, especially those boys I used to share a good oatcake with at the village inn. Even here in our small community, the shadow of the conflict has fallen. Farmers are struggling with manpower shortages, and the demands on horses have increased tenfold. Every able-bodied mare, like myself, is working harder than ever, pulling carts, ploughing fields, and transporting goods for the war effort.
My own role has become quite vital, I’m proud to say. The farm I’m lucky enough to call home, it's part of the war effort now, too, supplying horses to the army. The young foals, their coats still glossy with newness, are leaving one by one, some even destined for the front lines. It makes my heart heavy to see them go, yet I’m filled with a quiet sense of pride knowing they’re part of something bigger than themselves, serving their country.
Speaking of foals, a lovely little filly named Rosie arrived at our farm earlier this year. She’s a sturdy Clydesdale with a gentle nature, and I take her under my wing, showing her the ropes, how to nuzzle into a good patch of clover, how to pull a cart with a light touch and a proud gait, how to appreciate a good scratch behind the ears. The world is a much scarier place than it used to be, but we horses, we are survivors. We are resilient and strong, ready to weather any storm.
One thing that brings comfort in this time of turmoil is our own world within the larger world – the world of horses. Despite the anxieties and hardships, there is a renewed appreciation for the horse’s unwavering loyalty and unwavering strength. The bonds forged in times like these are deep and unwavering, and we are proud to play a crucial role in ensuring that people and supplies are transported and kept safe.
Every day brings news from the "warfront", as they call it. The newspaper headlines, while sometimes daunting, are a window to a wider world, a world that often feels incredibly distant and alien. The news carries accounts of amazing feats of horsemanship in the trenches, stories of bravery and skill under unimaginable circumstances. There is mention of "equine ambulances," dedicated horses who transport the wounded on the battlefields, their courage and resilience beyond words. And I hear whispered tales of war horses, those mighty creatures trained for the rigours of war, carrying soldiers and pulling cannons, bearing the brunt of battles with unwavering spirit.
I confess, it's not always easy to hear these stories. These are the stories of horses going into battle, into dangerous unknown lands. I have a young cousin, a handsome chestnut stallion named Barnaby, who left our valley for the frontlines. His letter, which I read with trembling hooves, told of harsh battles and long, lonely nights under a sky filled with strange and fearful noises. He’s a warrior now, just like his grandfather, a strong and capable stallion that we remember with affection, who served in the last war, the Boer War, as they call it.
But even amongst all this war talk, the horse world is full of life! News travels on the breeze, of course, from faraway places. It reaches us on the backs of our fellow equines who come from different parts of the country. From these accounts, I gather that 1917 has been a momentous year for the equestrian world, a year of significant change and progress!
For instance, the War Horse Society has become increasingly popular this year. They're dedicated to providing support for the horses used in the war effort, for ensuring their well-being and care. The society provides funding, care packages for wounded horses, and training for volunteers who work on the frontlines. They offer comfort, healing, and solace for these brave animals who put themselves in harm’s way.
The “Society for the Protection of Animals” also has a heightened profile in this challenging year, focusing on equine welfare in this time of conflict. They are reminding everyone of the responsibilities we have to all our animals, encouraging humane treatment and care for working horses, those on the homefront, as well as those overseas. It seems that during times of hardship, our compassion for all creatures only grows stronger!
Back in our tranquil Hayfield, though the men are away fighting, the equestrian world has kept its vitality, even with these times of upheaval. Local horse shows and events, once solely for entertainment, now hold an extra importance. They’re places for sharing stories, trading gossip, offering a distraction from the realities of the war.
And who can forget the magic of horse racing? My friend Agnes, a spirited bay mare, swears the excitement of the races this year has been exhilarating! She's become a fan of a magnificent bay stallion named "Galway Lad", known for his grace and speed. I must confess, I find his temperament to be rather flighty, but the crowds, they roar for him! They all do say he’s one of the most thrilling racers they’ve seen. The energy at those races this year has been infectious! The whole nation, even those struggling with the war, are seeking some relief from the grim news through these sporting events. It brings hope, camaraderie, and reminds everyone of the finer things in life.
This year, we’ve also seen a renewed interest in the "old-fashioned" skills, the ones that make horses truly part of everyday life, not just something seen at a race or on the farm. I've seen women joining riding schools, not for pleasure but for the practicalities. They learn to saddle, bridle, and care for a horse in the stead of their menfolk. And my fellow mare, Rosie, told me she's even seen women hauling supplies for the war effort, leading carts, carrying sacks on their backs - quite the strong women!
But life is not just about hard work, of course. My favourite part of this year has been watching the world open up to these amazing, newfangled inventions called “motorcars”! The petrol smell they bring can be a little too much for a delicate horse’s nostrils, I must say, but their speed is fascinating! One day, Agnes even shared an oatcake with a horse named “Barney”, who works for one of these “motor-car factories” - he even learns new “skills”, as he called them, how to operate this mechanical cart, alongside a man called “George” who drives it around a town called "Manchester" carrying goods in place of a traditional cart.
You’d think such a world of "iron horses" would lessen our importance. But no, it’s just the opposite! Now we are cherished even more. As the machines go about their loud and somewhat intimidating tasks, people realize the beauty and gentle nature of us, the real horses. We become like precious jewels, rare and lovely, worthy of honour and admiration.
We still carry on as usual here in Hayfield, each day bringing its own adventures. Our lives may not be filled with great war heroes, galloping at speed through battlefields. Our journeys are more of a measured trot, a quiet trot along familiar paths, yet this quiet work is our way of contributing to the big, unpredictable world outside.
Every time I look at the hills that roll around our farm, the ones that are familiar, comforting, the ones that have witnessed my life’s story unfold, I know that a horse's work is never done, but a horse's heart is full, overflowing with life.
And in the silence of our Hayfield, beneath the ever-watchful Scottish sky, I feel it, a quiet strength within myself and every horse around me.
And when I write this post for my fellow horses, a grey mare in this vast, chaotic world, I know my heart beats in time with each equine friend out there. And together, as the sun sets, painting the Hayfield hills a glorious purple and gold, we are a source of hope. A force for good in this troubled world. And a reminder, a powerful, comforting reminder that life is filled with unexpected beauty and even the wildest storms pass, and always, the sun shines again, warm upon our sturdy flanks.
So, until the next time, and I hope it will be sooner than later, take good care of yourselves. May you feel the gentle rhythm of the wind beneath your manes, may you know the soothing warmth of a kind hand, may your oats be sweet and plentiful, and may the sun shine always bright upon you.
Until we meet again,
Your friend, Emma
