Neigh-sayers may think my horse history blog is a tad too "long in the tooth", but here I am in my hayloft hideaway, a bit chilly, but snug, penning these very personal musings for you all.
Today I'm reminiscing about 0279 AD, and let me tell you, life was a lot different back then. It's fascinating to think how much has changed over the years. This was a time of huge change and flux, which meant lots of opportunity for horses. For one, the Romans were at their zenith and those cheeky chaps needed our brawn and brains in loads of different roles. But let me get on with the day-to-day.
Sunrise Over Hayfield: The first peep of dawn over Hayfield Hill was always a welcome sight. My breath would turn into delicate plumes of steam in the cold air, and I'd give a sleepy neigh, a bit like a morning yawn! As the day crept in, I could smell the heather and the damp earth - a heady mixture that I absolutely adore! And there it was: the chink of harness and the soft call of the groom. It was time for a new day of toil, of adventures and sometimes mischief. You know how we are - horses have a reputation, but you know it’s all done in jest.
Hayfield: My Humble Abode: The small hamlet of Hayfield, tucked in the folds of the Scottish hills near Aberdeen, was our home. It’s always had a bustling feel - farmers working the land, children shrieking as they played games of chase and a plethora of horses, all part of a bustling community.
In those days, our main focus was the farm. From morning till dusk, we toiled, ploughing fields, pulling carts and carriages, sometimes even acting as messengers in the thick of winter. For instance, the young farmhand Angus was on a trip to the nearby town of Dunottar and he would often hop on my back, telling me tales of the bustling city market and the tales from the people of Aberdeen. We shared a special bond that boy and I. And when he wasn't at my side, well, the cheeky little scamp loved playing tricks on us. I can recall once - bless his heart - he tried to trick me with a piece of string and a little bell! Of course, he learned the error of his ways pretty fast when I, with the strength of my large hooves, gave him a playful nudge.
My Family and I: I was lucky enough to be born into a thriving family of grey drafters. Our kind were in demand, you see - big, strong, and able to handle just about any task the farmers threw our way. And boy, they threw us tasks - our strength was invaluable! We worked alongside many different kinds, all sharing the hard work and rewards of farm life. There were nimble steeds, the kind you see with the knights, they were all about speed and grace, whereas we, the Drafters, we were all about pulling our weight.
My siblings were equally hardworking and loved each other. In our own quiet, gentle way, of course. Remember, we're horses - there are pecking orders, but also a lot of care too.
Now, speaking of "pecking order" - our "chief of all chiefs" in the hamlet was a mighty stallion called Baron. He had the fiercest dark brown eyes, a noble head with a white blaze on his face. They called him Baron because he carried a special responsibility: the King’s Mail. You’d be amazed at the respect that fellow commanded. All of us bowed our heads to Baron - in fact, I think he knew it too, strutting around as if he owned the place - which, for a little while at least, he did. We weren't his minions though - we shared the same goal, of being useful, strong and strong, so a lot of respect existed between us, beyond hierarchy, if you will. And who knows, perhaps we even looked forward to a bit of camaraderie and shared stories.
Life Beyond The Fields: The farm work was the lifeblood of Hayfield. But, in 0279 AD, there was an amazing opportunity: The Roman Legion! The mighty legions, with their fierce battles, needed our power!
We worked as pack animals - transporting their supplies, weapons and tools to the battlefronts. Those Romans really loved a bit of horse muscle. For us horses, it meant going far and wide across the land, carrying everything from the tools they needed to make those camps - oh, what beautiful Roman roads they made! And we got to see some pretty sights - bustling Roman towns, castles under construction, and once, we even saw a large gathering of soldiers from France! But we always returned to our stables, grateful for the familiarity. Being on the road with those legions could be scary!
It wasn't always fighting though! They had festivals too. You would see groups of Romans, usually men, but some women, dancing and chanting, the air heavy with music and joy. They brought us treats too, like carrots, which we, as horses, were particularly fond of! You could say our life in 0279 AD was definitely a colorful tapestry.
But for the most part, my memories of that year were those of a horse in a small but busy Scottish Hamlet. The nights, warm with the aroma of heather and wood, would usually mean the farmer's wife feeding me oats, and I’d cuddle up in my bed of hay and enjoy the rhythmic lull of her gentle voice, lulling me to sleep. In my dreams, I often trotted through meadows and mountainsides, a happy and free horse, running wild. Those dreams were my reward after all the long hours and hard work.
My life as a farm horse wasn't glamorous, but it was simple, fulfilling and full of character - all because I was a horse and this was my way of life.
