By Emma, a grey draught horse from Hayfield near Aberdeen
Equiworld.org
Good day, fellow equines, and all who love a good horse story! Today, I thought I’d share a bit of what it’s like being a horse in 1874, a year which feels both grand and bustling here in Hayfield, near Aberdeen. I’m Emma, a young grey mare with a mane and tail the colour of fresh snowfall, and a strength that belies my graceful, flowing strides.
The air is crisp with a tang of the North Sea. The smell of heather fills my nostrils, reminding me of long days pulling the plough across the fertile fields. You see, my life is a sturdy one, a simple life that I wouldn't trade for all the grand stables of London. I belong to Mr. Anderson, a kindly man with a deep, rumbling voice that soothes me even when the cart I pull feels heavy. He uses me for hauling grain and other produce, often travelling down the steep roads towards Aberdeen, and even down to the bustling harbour where we unload our precious cargo.
The year 1874 has been a remarkable one, not just for us horses, but for the world! Across the land, people are beginning to understand the incredible strength and versatility of horses like myself. Our kind is still the backbone of work, of course, pulling carts and carrying burdens with unwavering determination. We make journeys possible, connect communities, and contribute to a flourishing nation. We are the trusty companions, the gentle giants, the silent heroes.
There's a particular pride that swells within me as I walk alongside other strong horses like myself. In 1874, we witnessed a magnificent sight, a true testament to our breed's enduring strength. It was at the famous Royal Highland and Agricultural Society of Scotland (RHASS) show, an annual event that draws breeders and enthusiasts alike, showcasing the very best of Scotland's finest animals. There, amongst the majestic Highland cattle and sheep, stood a collection of horses so impressive they nearly took my breath away. The judges meticulously assessed their muscled frames, the set of their hooves, the way their necks carried themselves – each one a perfect embodiment of power and grace. They are the stars of the field, the prize-winners, the envy of every stallion and mare in the country.
It’s quite fascinating to see the world through a horse’s eye, you know? I can tell you about the magnificent inventions we've been a part of in recent times. The iron horse, the railway engine, is beginning to make its presence known in the countryside. Its iron wheels rattle on tracks, and steam billows from its tall chimney. Though the iron horse can travel much faster, there’s still nothing quite like the feel of hooves pounding the ground, the gentle sway of a cart, the quiet hum of a world seen only through a horse’s eyes.
As the months have flown by, there have been many developments within our own equine community. Across the ocean in America, they’ve discovered something quite interesting – the benefits of breeding stallions to certain mares. By choosing pairings wisely, they are developing distinct bloodlines, creating horses that are specialised for different tasks. For example, there are horses that are bred for speed, becoming swift as the wind on the racetrack, others are bred for their sheer size, becoming beasts of burden for hauling massive loads, while others are bred for their elegance and athleticism, their coats a kaleidoscope of vibrant colours. These ‘thoroughbreds,’ as they call them, have become synonymous with prestige and sport. The speed of these horses is astounding!
Of course, the grand sport of racing hasn't forgotten about us workhorses. In England, Epsom Downs held the illustrious Epsom Derby – a prestigious race attracting crowds of enthusiasts who marvel at the power and agility of thoroughbreds as they gallop around the track at breakneck speeds. Although we don’t have the speed of those fancy thoroughbreds, we hold our own on the carriage trails. And indeed, the carriages and coaches used for racing continue to evolve with magnificent innovations! Sleek, new designs emerge with padded seats and sturdy suspensions, allowing passengers to enjoy a smooth ride across miles of countryside.
These racing horses and grand carriages do present a fascinating glimpse into the future, yet they're quite a distance from the practical, humble life of a horse like myself. My work takes me down cobbled streets, alongside shops with their colorful wares, and along lanes lined with neatly planted fields, green and verdant, whispering of the summer's bounty.
At the end of a day, I'm a creature of simple needs: a warm stable, a full feed of hay, a cool stream to drink from, and the soft, comforting murmur of my stable mates. We are a community of horses, sharing stories under the watchful gaze of the stars.
Sometimes, under the quiet watch of a moonlit sky, I feel the faint echo of a primal instinct. The ancestral memories of running wild across vast grasslands, a distant yearning for boundless freedom. I’ve never known a life outside this, of course. I wouldn't trade it. My work is rewarding, my companions are faithful, and my life is content. This is the rhythm of my world, the quiet melody of my days.
So, until next time, dear readers, keep those hooves steady, your tails high, and may your days be filled with the quiet strength of a draught horse like myself. Until then, be kind to each other, be proud of your work, and let’s keep the magic of horses alive!
Yours truly, Emma
