A wee bit o' history from Hayfield, near Aberdeen, Scotland
Hello there, fellow equines! It's Emma here, your trusty grey mare from Hayfield, back again for another installment of my horse-powered history blog! I must admit, it feels grand to be turning 20 years old this very year. I've been trotting the Earth since the year 497 and I have a fair bit of experience under my hooves, which makes it easy to see how much things have changed (and, to be honest, how much they haven't changed at all).
Today, let’s take a gallop back in time to the year 517 AD. It was a bustling year in my neck of the woods, but not as chaotic as the 1950s (as told to me by the old mares).
Let me take you back to Hayfield. Imagine fields of vibrant green grass, wildflowers dancing in the breeze, and the crisp Scottish air swirling around us. This is the idyllic setting for my home, where I live with a lovely family of humans - they tend to me well. You'd be surprised by how many humans like myself still exist, strong and capable of doing hard work - but times are changing! I hear whispers of places further afield where humans ride us less and rely more on what they call "carts". I wonder what will happen next?!
Let me paint a picture of how our lives unfolded in 517 AD. The morning began with a delicious breakfast of barley and oats. Now, the oat harvest was exceptional this year, yielding abundant crops. My human family expressed gratitude and said we were truly blessed.
Once I finished my breakfast, it was time for a quick brush-up by my human companion - Fiona is her name, a strong and caring lass with a soft spot for all horses. She's been with me since I was just a foal. I believe her age now is nearing her mid-20s, although I do try to help her feel a bit younger sometimes. Humans are just as susceptible to feeling old as we horses, they are.
Once Fiona was done tidying my mane, it was off to the fields for a long morning of work. My strong and sturdy build allows me to help them pull ploughs, and that's something we draughties are good at. You might have heard that we are known for our steady, dependable nature. Oh, you can bet on that. That’s why humans seem to love us - as much as horses like us can be loved, anyway!
By midday, we all retreated for a well-deserved rest. This, of course, involved more delicious food (Fiona would bring a bucket of barley out, which always tasted better when it was given by her!) and the opportunity for a little snooze in the dappled sunlight. Fiona would always talk to me - not just about how the harvest was progressing but all sorts of other things, including news that reached us by humans travelling from other towns.
My days weren't always spent pulling ploughs in the fields, though. Fiona’s dad, Angus, had started constructing a small mill using local timber and a heavy wooden wheel. That big wheel - that's my domain. You could say, that's where I came into my own! Every day, I would step into the big sturdy harness, a sturdy leather collar, and walk in circles. It was hard work and quite tiring, especially on long, windy days, but the feel of that wheel turning under my feet was very satisfying. My power was a key part of the operation, helping grind grain into flour, so essential to our survival in these colder climes. It really does take more than one set of hands to help get the food on the table, doesn't it?
After a busy day of toil, there would often be a quick stroll through the meadows. Fiona always looked out for my welfare, so every evening, when we weren’t hauling, we'd have a delightful stroll, taking in the evening breeze. The sun would paint the clouds with shades of gold and crimson, reminding me how precious these moments are. Sometimes, in the quiet evenings, Fiona would bring out her guitar and play softly for us both. She didn't play well, not like the talented troubadours I've heard speak of in tales by humans. But, she played with such heartfelt joy - that made it a treasure to me, even if the tune she'd play was quite rough around the edges! You could say I enjoyed her strumming!
517 was also the year the Pictish people took to the battlefield near the nearby town of Abernethy. This was a bit alarming for me and the rest of the Hayfield horses as they seemed to fight like ferocious wolves - quite scary, actually. Angus tried to explain why the Picts and the Britons fought but I did not truly understand. Humans fight among themselves sometimes, too, for all sorts of reasons, but this seemed worse. Even the sparrows chirped with unease. I am glad this particular conflict didn't affect us.
Life was pretty straightforward for me in Hayfield, but this year, there were some important things that had everyone talking:
King Clovis the First: He had been busy on the other side of Europe, in a place called Gaul, setting up a great empire and converting to Christianity. Some people spoke about this great change and how things had shifted so much because of this one man.
Saint Patrick: He is well-known for spreading Christianity all over a land called Ireland. Humans talk of miracles. My own belief, my dear equines, is that we all serve our purposes here on Earth, whether that is grinding grain for our owners, pulling heavy carts for soldiers or, just perhaps, spreading religious ideas among mankind.
Roman Empire – Oh, humans love to talk about the mighty Romans! It is quite something, and a real mark of history, that this great empire seems to be weakening and slowly receding from the island where humans live.
You see, it seems as though even in the great world outside our humble home, things are shifting, much like our human society here at Hayfield. It reminds me of a wise saying one human taught me, “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme.” I've tried to put that thought to paper. I think, when we horses look back over our lives, we see similar cycles emerging over and over again. I hope I have painted you a clear picture of what it was like to live through the year 517 AD, in this corner of the world.
Remember, dear reader, that despite the shifting tides of time, life as a horse always has a gentle, steady rhythm, grounded by the fundamental values of love, hard work, and a connection to the land. I truly believe in this way of life.
Stay strong and well.
Emma, a 20 year old grey draught horse.
