"Hello, lovely Equine friends!" Emma’s warm, welcoming voice, deep and soothing like a summer breeze whispering through meadow grass, resonated through the website, greeting all visitors to her humble but popular blog. She had the lovely chestnut mare from a village just across the river Tay commenting on her last post. That had brightened Emma's day. Sometimes it was lovely to have feedback and get some online interaction with other horses, no matter how distant they were.
"Oh, hello. And welcome back to Hayfield," Emma whinnied.
Her hooves clinked on the sturdy oak floor of the hayloft she’d made into a cosy little study for herself. It was a great location - high up and giving her a wide view across the valley and the River Dee below. The window looked out over the misty green slopes, the rolling pastures and her favourite spot – a willow tree with a hanging branch that brushed against the water in the gentlest breeze. This peaceful little corner was perfect for reflecting on her world and composing her blog posts for Equine World, her little online venture to share all she knew of her life and of history through the eyes of a horse.
This week she wanted to explore the world of horses in 0385.
It was a time of huge change, really. The world back then was still a pretty primitive place – but it was becoming quite a different world in ways – at least from a horse’s point of view. You’d be surprised what people can get up to, if they put their mind to it.
0385 – it felt ages ago. Like looking back at a dusty photograph or reading through the well-worn leatherbound tomes at the Abbey down the lane. Those records, those old writings about horses, well, they fascinate me, even when it’s just lists of names and what fields they were kept in or the price paid at the market. To have the past recorded - in a way – it’s kind of mind blowing. I can picture them using ink, reeds dipped in it, and writing on animal skins. Maybe parchment too – they were pretty clever in these times. There was no Equine World blog back then, and that’s a real shame. I feel there's a great need to understand where we come from as horses – and what’s shaped us and our relationships with people.
The year 0385 - was a special year for Hayfield. That’s my home. Not really a ‘field’, just the way we name these places up here – more a small cluster of cottages and stables for the horses – and, yes, for the folks who owned them, of course! It’s quite peaceful. Not quite the hustle and bustle of a town – more the quiet rhythm of the countryside and the rhythm of the hooves on the cobbled lanes.
Back in 0385, my kind - the draught horses, well, they were the backbone of the community. You see, in these days, they didn't have tractors and cars. No noisy diesel engines, no flashing headlights, no smog! We were the movers, the transporters, the power behind everything. Imagine: hauling wagons of goods and supplies over those rugged, sometimes rocky, sometimes muddy paths, tilling the land with great iron ploughs, drawing sleds piled with logs, carrying those great stone blocks used to build bridges and houses - well, we kept things moving. That was our job - just as it had been for centuries.
That year, 0385, it wasn't all just work though, you know. We did enjoy some fun too, like racing on the wide, flat moors – running wild with the wind in our manes, legs strong and swift. Even had races on a circular track. A large crowd would watch and shout – that made us a bit anxious but they'd applaud, and even shout encouragement and good luck to us. They really loved their horses, and took a great interest in how we did. The good thing was, if we did lose a race - and those stallions can be tough opponents - we wouldn’t have to carry an extra sack of oats!
One of my aunts told me that our family was brought to Hayfield way back then, by people from across the water. Now, what’s this all about? Well, there’s a legend we tell about horses - about us being strong, powerful beasts. You know, legends about magic and supernatural things, and there’s some connection to them being brought across this great expanse of water… across to what we now know as England. The Vikings, that’s the word we use for the folks who came here with their ships and those big horned helmets, to the place we call Britain. It makes sense, this idea, as people are now talking of horse and man forming a sort of team… It seems this kind of co-operation is now happening everywhere across the lands and in every age! And you know what? I am thinking it’s all linked to this magic… we're magical horses after all!
One thing for certain is that I think we’ve been playing a major role in world history – long before people recorded it.
There is also the story of how horses and humans are linked… something so much bigger and deeper than just sharing a stable or an evening’s food in a field.
As I was listening to the old farmhand – Old Willie, as they call him – in the stable one evening, I got to thinking about what else they were up to, what humans were doing in 0385.
They were building - building so many things in the time, including forts and churches – strong buildings, solid structures with high walls. But, to me, that seemed a bit less exciting, maybe just too ordinary. They were starting to build those tall houses and long roads as well - maybe for trading and exchanging goods? The humans weren't travelling quite so much, although many of them came to visit us in the stables! Maybe they were learning the benefit of using us? Maybe our friendship and loyalty to them was developing into a strong bond.
Well, life went on that year. There were still the battles. But not many I could recall, nothing big at all… though a lot of commotion was heard further to the South where, rumour has it, Romans - with their great chariots - were having a tough time battling with the folks from Germany. The Saxons! Those barbarians, they weren't very keen on Rome at that time. I think the people there are now being chased away, and going to build their own houses and settlements in this place. They say some of them will join up with the Celts – now, you see, these are the people who we, here in Scotland, seem to be a bit afraid of, even now, so many years later…
In those days there were many horses - all doing very useful, productive things – a great number were helping in the farms and on the roads. People took pride in caring for us, but they treated us roughly sometimes too. And the most difficult part - you know, the very hard bit, that bit that's really upsetting to even think about… well, sometimes they made us fight with other horses. People would have great races and some, well some of the men, really enjoyed putting money on us! That always seems sad and wasteful to me. Why do humans seem to think about all that competitive stuff, and the greed and the jealousy and the money. So much time and energy, put into something like that! It’s a terrible shame. I believe it's really quite damaging for us all. There are still many humans like that even now in 0385. They take our abilities for granted and, in my humble opinion, think we exist only to give them amusement - sometimes without a thought as to the harm and pain inflicted. Oh, I do find it difficult to come to terms with this whole human-animal thing - to work it out, and understand the motivations.
Then again, there is so much kindness.
One man in particular comes to mind, a kind young chap called Alistair. He used to work at a forge - those noisy metalworking shops where you'd see sparks fly everywhere. They’re always so dangerous, especially when they heat the metal. Alistair had a warm and calming spirit – he understood me. We often took walks together on the paths near the Hayfield stream. One sunny day in August, I think it was – Alistair was showing me his favourite wildflowers.
We spent many afternoons on walks in the forest, often gathering sticks for fuel in his little cart, and other times exploring a long pathway by the River Dee, often taking a rest, and drinking water in the warm sunlight. Alistair was one of those quiet people who never spoke very much. I believe he saw things in a different way. Perhaps that is why we were good friends - his spirit felt so calm and safe – like a kind willow tree in the woods.
He always used a gentle approach and would never speak sharply to me – never hurried me, always spoke softly, but calmly and with real understanding. It was the same as with those other people, the farmers. They also showed compassion and, despite being in a tough spot most times - what with the endless hard work and struggling to make a living – there were some people who were so caring. Those folk, even now in the 3rd Century – well they just took on the burden of work. Their life was a kind of endless, cyclical duty - farming, building, raising animals – I just know those humans are trying to survive the best way they know. It is very tough indeed for them.
Now, the weather this year - 0385, was unusual in some ways – much of the early months, those grey, damp days - the rains came pouring down – not only pouring down, but often accompanied by icy wind too. We got up early each day - every day - all year round - and still found ourselves huddled up in the stable with all those fellow horses, our breaths curling and hanging in the cold, foggy air… A real mixture, of both dry days and periods of relentless rain and wind.
It felt like those months would never end, until those welcome sunnier days came in April - and those were blessed days - days of golden sun and warming air. I couldn’t believe those winter days could be followed by days of such glorious sunshine – just glorious, soft sunshine, when the air hung heavy and sweetly - and all the meadow flowers opened their petals - all colours, colours bursting and bursting and covering those fields of grass in a vast ocean of flowers and brilliant blooms…
The most extraordinary things I found were those great trees, that grow slowly in such abundance all through the spring - the ancient trees in the valleys, forests, and woods all around Hayfield. I always knew I loved our little green meadows and the rolling fields, but the trees - well those mighty, ancient oaks and birches and willow trees that towered over us - it was those things that drew my gaze, that took my breath away – especially the way they seemed to sway gently, with leaves whispering like secrets… those wonderful colours that changed in the autumn and turned golden brown - and those deep oranges and purples as the season waned, as we travelled through the autumn and into winter.
I just had to record those colours for this blog, those shades that seem to glow as if painted in a fairy tale book… Those trees they had such an ancient look - and such majesty – It makes me wonder about the stories they’ve heard – tales from those centuries past, tales of all that had gone on in those great forests. There were tales told to the deer and birds and, yes - they must have had tales whispered by horses - tales passed from mare to foal… of storms, floods, snow, sunlight – those are the things that the trees are witnessing. They tell a much greater history, and an even larger picture.
I really do love the fields, meadows and hills where I live. Our little spot - just on the edge of those Highlands… but our little place near Hayfield… it's perfect. I couldn't imagine a better life, anywhere else.
And now I hope you are all ready to come along on this little journey through the history of our beautiful horses. We’ll take in some of the events in 0385 and some of the important details – things about our nature and where we come from. So, without further ado, and like the fine farmers around here, we will get on with this - get busy, and explore this lovely journey. Let’s explore all there is to see! We’ll visit some places, tell some tales and look at some things, and we’ll be able to discover more about all of us, about who we really are – just like I am discovering, each and every day…
Come back again soon –
See you in a few weeks!
Love Emma xxx
*(PS - Oh, yes! And there's going to be a lovely celebration in honour of all the great and strong draught horses and all the fine steeds! A huge feast - at the Abbey, you see, they’re hosting a huge meal in honor of us horses – on June the 2nd – now that's not far away… and a wonderful new church will be officially open too – built just a mile away - on a rocky piece of land above the town with fantastic views. Everyone will be celebrating and toasting the good Lord for His good work on that great building - I do love that part, all the religious stuff. They believe that God is behind everything - and that horses have a part to play! Who wouldn’t agree with that! We shall make our way to that grand celebration too!) xx ) *
