The Whispered Word That Gave Scottish Farmers Power Over Any Horse

In Scotland’s northeast, there are stories of farmhands who could stop a wild horse with a single word. Horses that kicked and reared for everyone else would stand perfectly still for these men. The secret was real — and it came with a sworn oath of silence.

The Brotherhood No One Talked About

For at least two centuries, a secret fraternal society operated across Scotland’s farming heartland. Its members were called Horsemen. The organisation was known simply as the Society of the Horseman’s Word.

Membership was limited to men who worked closely with heavy draught horses — the Clydesdales and other powerful breeds that pulled ploughs, hauled timber, and built Scotland’s farms from the ground up.

To join, a farmhand had to be invited. You could not apply. You simply had to wait until a senior Horseman decided you were ready.

The Midnight Ceremony

The initiation always happened at night, inside a barn. Candles were lit. The recruit stood before senior members and swore a solemn oath of secrecy — on pain of losing his livelihood, his reputation, and according to the ritual, his soul.

The ceremony involved a mock exchange with a figure representing the Devil. New initiates reached through a gap in wooden boards and shook “his” hand — in reality, the hand of a senior member. It was theatrical, deliberate, and absolutely serious.

At the end of the ceremony, the new Horseman was whispered the Word.

What was it? Many former members took it to their graves. Those who eventually spoke claimed it was something deceptively simple — “Both in One” is one phrase that appears in later accounts. But the Word itself mattered less than what it represented: you were now part of the brotherhood.

The Real Secret Behind the Power

The Horseman’s Word was not magic. But it was not nothing, either.

Experienced Horsemen built their reputations through knowledge passed carefully within the society: specific techniques for handling difficult animals, a deep understanding of horse psychology, and — crucially — a range of substances that could alter a horse’s behaviour entirely.

“Drawing” preparations attracted horses. A blend of herbs, oils, and aromatic compounds applied to the hand or harness could make even a skittish horse approach willingly and stand calmly. “Jading” preparations did the opposite — they could make a horse refuse to move or shy away from a person entirely.

These were not folk superstitions. They worked. The compounds included substances like oil of rhodium and coriander oil, with proven effects on animal behaviour. Horsemen understood exactly what they were doing — they simply dressed it in ritual and mystery to keep it exclusive.

Enjoying this? 43,000+ Scotland lovers get stories like this every week. Subscribe free →

Why Secrecy Was Everything

A skilled Horseman was worth his weight in harvest yields. If your plough horse co-operated, you had a productive farm. If it did not, everything stopped.

That economic reality is what made the Horseman’s Word so powerful. By keeping methods strictly secret — refusing to share techniques even with wives or children — Horsemen protected a genuine commercial advantage. A man who could calm difficult animals could always find work, even in hard years.

The society also provided real mutual support. Horsemen would give each other references, warn of untrustworthy employers, and assist members who fell on hard times. In rural communities with no social safety net, that network mattered enormously.

The society was most deeply rooted in the farming country around Aberdeenshire and Angus — the same region celebrated in the Aberdeenshire Castle Trail, where centuries of rural tradition have left their mark on the landscape.

The Last Horsemen

The Horseman’s Word thrived as long as horses were central to Scottish agriculture. In the late 19th century, with Clydesdales pulling every plough from Banffshire to Perthshire, the society was at its height.

Then came the tractor.

By the 1940s, mechanisation was reshaping Scottish farms with startling speed. The last generation of working Horsemen were often the last generation of initiates, too. Some accounts suggest initiations continued quietly into the 1960s, but by then the tradition was already fading fast.

Today, the Clydesdale horse survives in small numbers as a show animal and conservation symbol. The giant steel horses of The Kelpies at Falkirk stand as a monument to that ancient working relationship between Scots and their horses. The story behind why Scotland built those giant horse sculptures is a remarkable piece of history in itself.

What the Horsemen knew — and whispered in cold barns on winter nights — is mostly lost now. Their methods went with them. But the story of a working-class secret society that lasted two centuries, built entirely on the bond between Scottish men and their horses, is one that deserves to be remembered.

For more of Scotland’s hidden traditions and forgotten stories, Scotland’s myths and legends guide takes you deeper into the ancient folklore that still echoes across the glens.

Frequently Asked Questions

Where in Scotland was the Horseman’s Word practised?

The society was most active in northeast Scotland — particularly Aberdeenshire, Angus, and Perthshire — where large-scale grain farming relied heavily on draught horses. Some accounts place chapters as far south as the Scottish Borders.

What was the Horseman’s Word actually?

The exact word or phrase was sworn to secrecy by all members. A few accounts after the society faded mention phrases like “Both in One,” but there was likely no single universal phrase. The ritual and the knowledge that came with it mattered far more than any specific word.

When did the Horseman’s Word die out?

The society declined sharply from the 1940s as tractors replaced horses on Scottish farms. Initiations are believed to have continued sporadically into the 1960s, but the organisation had effectively dissolved by the end of the 20th century.

There is something quietly moving about it all. Ordinary men — farmhands with calloused hands and early mornings — built a brotherhood that lasted longer than most institutions. They gave themselves a word, a ritual, and a secret. Scotland’s agricultural revolution took the horses away. But the Horseman’s Word, for those who know to look, still lingers in the northeast wind.