Chapter XI · THE HORSE AND HIS STABLE.

Condition depends on food, work, and warmth.—So does the difference between the breeds of horses.—The terseness of the Arab is the result of hard food.—So is that of our thorough-bred horse.—Different breeds result from different natural conditions.—Crossing is only necessary where natural conditions are against you.—We do not attend enough to warmth.—We should get fine winter coats by warmth instead of singeing.—No fear of cold from fine coats.—The foot should be stopped with clay.—The sore ridge.—Stable breastplate.—The head-stall.—Never physic, bleed, blister, or fire.—Food for condition.—Rest for strains.—Nature for wounds.—Miles for shoeing.—The horse should have water always by him.—And should stand loose.—No galloping on hard ground, either by master or man.—He who cripples the horse kills him.

Condition depends on food, work, warmth. For perfect health and condition three things are necessary, good food, work, warmth. For appearance a fourth may be added, cleaning. To suppose cleaning necessary for health is nonsense. Do you clean your sheep?—the stags in your park?—or the horses young and old in the breeding stud? But, speaking liberally, a horse which is not worked cannot be clean and a horse which is worked and clothed cannot be dirty. A horse cannot be clothed too heavily summer or winter short of perspiring.

So does the difference between breeds of horses. But it is not only that the present passing condition of the horse depends solely on food, work, and warmth, but the permanent structure and stature of the horse depend on them; that is, the difference between what are called different breeds of horses depends solely on these three things.

The Arab the result of hard food. The Arab has a legend that his horse came from the stable of King Solomon. From the book of Kings it appears that Solomon was a great horse dealer. He imported them largely from Egypt, and he supplied certain kings with them. The merchandise which he received from Arabia is enumerated, and though it is not stated that he supplied horses in part payment for this merchandise, it is not improbable that he did so. Speaking liberally, in Arabia the sole food of the horse is barley and straw; and the terseness of structure of the Arab may be said to be the result of three thousand years of hard food, if we reckon only from the modern horse-keeper King Solomon. Fuerant autem in Egypto semper præstantissimi equi. And, shades of Bunsen! how many thousand years of hard food shall we add to the account for our horses’ Egyptian ancestry? Moses and Miriam sang their dirge on the shore of the Red Sea, in the reign of a mediæval Pharaoh, but their “early progenitors,” as Mr. Darwin would phrase it, might have enjoyed the barley of the ancient King Menes. To hard food we must add early work, for the Arab is worked at two years old.

So is our thorough-bred horse. Our thorough-bred horse, the descendant of the Arab, has been bred under the same natural conditions somewhat improved; that is, he has had better hard food in unlimited quantity, he is earlier trained, the goodness of both sire and dam are proved to an ounce, and performance only is bred from. What is the consequence? In Evelyn’s days Arabs and barbs raced at Newmarket. In later days, in the give and take plates there, winners are recorded of thirteen hands high, and the size of a stud horse of fourteen hands was advertised. Now, if a horse is under sixteen hands his size is not mentioned, and all the world is our customer at £5000 or £6000 a horse. And if more people had the skill to ride him, the merits of the thorough-bred horse as a hunter would be better known; though, indeed, under any circumstances, it is but the sweepings of the training stable which descends to the hunting field or private life.

All breeds result from natural conditions. The first axiom of the breeder is—est in equis patrum virtus—“Like produces like.” But the second axiom is, “The goodness of the horse goes in at his mouth.” The moral is, that like produces like only under like natural conditions. Turn out all the winners of the last ten years to breed on Dartmoor or in Shetland; what would be the betting about a colt or a filly so bred for the Derby or Oaks? The qualities of the race-horse—the accumulation of thousands of years—are lost in the first generation. Continue to breed him under these conditions, and the finest horse in the world, or that the world ever saw, becomes a Dartmoor or Shetland pony, worth £5 instead of £5000. Such are the changes worked by natural conditions; though with Mr. Darwin they count for nothing, or for next to nothing.

In the permanent fat pastures of the temperate and insular climes, the horse is built up to eighteen hands high, with a width and weight infinitely more than proportionate to his height, if we compare him to the southern horse. In the arid south, by no contrivance of man or “natural selection” can a horse of weight be produced; though you may breed the terse horse of the south in the north by keeping him on terse food.

Crossing not necessary. Crossing is only good where you wish to breed animals against natural conditions, as heavy horses on terse food, or Leicester sheep on the downs, or small Alderney cows on rich pastures. Then, the more the breed is crossed by animals bred under favourable natural conditions the better. No horse is so bred in-and-in as our thorough-bred horse and the Arab, and, of course, all pure breeds must be bred in-and-in.

The above effects of food and work are evident and well understood. We do not attend enough to warmth. But we do not sufficiently attend to warmth. We see that if the finest-coated Arab or thorough-bred horse is turned out year after year, he will get a winter coat as thick as a Shetland pony. But besides this, nature thickens his skin; the hide of the southern horse sells higher than that of the northern horse, because it is thinner. Change the skin of a horse for that of a rhinoceros, will he race or hunt as well?

Mr. Darwin does not seem to be aware that the horse changes his coat! or that there is any difference between his summer and winter coat! or that the new coat of the same individual comes thick directly he is exposed to cold. Warmth instead of singeing. Fine winter coats should be got by clothing and warmth, not by singeing and cold. Starvation itself is not more terrible than cold. Nature comes to the rescue of the out-door horse, but frightful enormities result from singeing horses in the winter, and leaving them to shiver in the stall inadequately clothed, to say nothing of the frightful figures which result.

No fear of cold from fine coats. Fear not your horse suffering from cold because he is stripped to work. Do not labourers strip to work? If a horse had a coat thick enough to keep him warm when at rest in winter, he could not hunt in this without being sweated to death any more than he could with four or five blankets on him.

Fire and water are equally disastrous to the horse’s skin. Allow neither singeing nor washing above the hoof, and even this only for appearance. For there is no more reason for washing the horse’s foot when he is kept in a stable, than there is when he is kept in a paddock. But there are good reasons for keeping his foot full of dirt in the form of clay in the stable. Stop foot with clay. Without it he fills his foot with the contents of the stall, which the shoe holds there. Now, which is worst for the foot, dirt or dung? Nothing can be more injurious to the frog than this.

But, alas! all is right, even with the master, provided that there is not a speck on the outside insensible horn; and perhaps that is oiled and blacked (!) when the horse is brought out, while inside, the soft frog is left night and day soaked and saturated with the most frightful horrors. Hence the most fetid thrushes, and hence the contracted heel; for the contracted heel is the consequence, not the cause of the rotted frog.

The clay should not be mixed up with any of the horrors which grooms are so fond of. Besides defending the frog from the highly injurious juices of the stall this gives a natural support to the interior of the foot which the artificial shoe deprives it of.

The sore ridge. Every joint of the backbone or spinal bone is surmounted by a spine. These are sharp and topped with gristle, and will not support weight, still less attrition. Hence the necessity of the wooden tree of a saddle, and even of a terret-pad to bridge the ridge. The old plan of fastening the horse’s clothing, taken from the Persians, was by rolling a long strip loosely round and round him; hence our name of roller for the stable surcingle. This avoided injury to the ridge: the objection is the trouble. The bridge or channel of our roller is never effective, and every stabled horse has a sore ridge. This is a great calamity to him as well as to his master.

The play of the ribs in breathing saws the sore; he is disinclined to lie down because the roller is tightened by this position. The groom puts his hand towards the ridge; the ears go back and a leg is lifted. The horse gets a kick in the stomach or a blow with the fist, and becomes shy in the stall as well as vicious. In cleaning him underneath, the groom rests his hand on the sore ridge and the horse dashes his teeth against the wall, and lashes out from pain; he becomes shy to saddle, shy to girth, shy to mount, and he hogs his back, and perhaps plunges when you are up.

I have used two remedies; first, a more efficient bridge. Let the pads of the channel be deep and steep towards each other and die off on the side from each other, set them wide apart and have the channel clear. The common error is to stuff the channel, which increases the evil. Stable breastplate. Next a loose roller, but this involves the necessity of a breast-girth to prevent the roller going back under the flank. If the breast-girth is loose it falls below the breast and is burst by the legs of the horse in getting up. If it is tight it pulls the roller on to the rise of the withers. I have used, and I recommend a breastplate on the principle of a hunting breastplate. The bearing should be only from the top of the neck to the lower part of the roller; a long upper strap to prevent it falling forward when the head is down, should take off and on the channel by a slip loop. The lower strap is also taken off and on the roller with a slip loop. The breast-piece buckles or ties on the near shoulder. When taken off, it pulls out of the lower strap, and remains attached to the channel by the upper strap; the lower strap remains attached to the lower part of the roller.

I wish my pupil would make a model with my favourite bit of string, and then call the saddler to his aid. He may have it of scarlet, if he is fond of ornament, of webbing bis Afro murice tincta, or of scarlet and gold if he likes.

The roller must keep the cloths forward; if they are fastened tight across the chest, the horse bursts them in getting up or in putting his head down.

The head-stall. The head-stall should have a buckle on each cheek-strap; the throat-lash should be sewed to the top, and should have a buckle on each side. If the horse slips his head-stall, take the throat-lash out of the front, and you may buckle it almost as tight as a neck-strap, which is the safest of all fastenings. The objection is that, when a horse has to raise heavy logs in the stall for each mouthful of hay, the strap wears his mane. For this reason a front is used to the head-stall; it however then wears the horse’s head, and is the origin of what is called pole-evil; the bone of the nose is often worn through by the nose-band, forming abscesses inside the nostrils. Small horses and ponies are particularly liable to this, in getting their hay from high racks. These are reasons for horses standing loose where this is possible. A quarter of a century ago I had the honour to arrange the head-stalls of the 2nd Life Guards as above, and I am proud to see them still in use.

Never physic, blister, or fire. On no occasion and on no persuasion give your horse physic, or bleed him, or blister him, or fire him, or let the blacksmith have anything to do with any part of him which is more sensible than the callous crust of his hoof.

Food for condition. Rest for strains. Nature for wounds. Condition depends on food, not physic. Rest is the cure for sprains and strains. Nature cures wounds unless prevented by art. Nature stops the bleeding by the glue of the blood coagulating about the wound; staunching with cloths wipes this off and promotes the bleeding. Lint assists, but when Nature has formed a plaister over a wound it should not be interfered with or washed; leave it to come off of itself. Where great discharge ensues wash it off sound parts, and grease them to prevent the skin coming off. Don’t believe in what is called “proud flesh.” The granulations of new flesh are always called so, and burnt off as fast as they grow by corrosive sublimate or “oils as’ll cut a broomstick in two.”

Miles for shoeing. As a brother officer of the 2nd Life Guards has published a perfect book on shoeing, and as he did me the honour to dedicate it to me, I have only to say that on that subject I am completely “Miles’s boy.”

Water always by the horse. About a quarter of a century ago I recommended in print that all horses should have water by them in the stall: it is now so universally the practice, that I need not here repeat the reasons for it. I have not heard of any horse drinking till he burst, though all grooms assured me that all stabled horses would do so.

It is distending food, not drink, which forms the large carcase. Food takes long to digest, but it is astonishing how quickly what the horse drinks is absorbed. The late Mr. Field having a horse condemned to die, kept him two days without water, gave him two buckets, and killed him five minutes after. There was not a drop of water in his stomach.

The horse should stand loose. A horse should have a loose standing if possible; if he must be tied in a stall it should be flat. A horse cannot stand up hill without muscular exertion, and the toe constantly up, and the heel constantly down, induces ruinous distress to the back sinews.

No galloping on hard ground. Do not let your groom gallop your hunter on the hard ground in autumn; and my last word shall be a petition on this subject to master as well as man—to deprecate a piece of inhumanity practised, indeed, as much by ladies as by gentlemen—the riding the horse fast on hard ground. I pray them to consider that horses do not die of old age, but that they are killed because they become crippled, and that he who cripples them is guilty of their death, not he who pulls the trigger. He who cripples the horse kills him. The practice is as unhorsemanlike as it is inhuman. It is true that money will replace the poor slaves as you use them up, and if occasion requires it they must, alas! be used up. But in my opinion, nothing but a case of life and death can justify the deed. If the ground is hard and even, a collected canter may be allowed; but if hard and uneven, a moderate trot at most. One hour’s gallop on such ground would do the soundest horse irremediable mischief. Those who boast of having gone such a distance in such a time, on the ground supposed, show ignorance or inhumanity. Such feats require cruelty only, not courage. Nay, they are performed most commonly by the very horsemen who are too cowardly or too unskilful to dare to trust their horse with his foot on the elastic turf, or to stand with him the chances of the hunting-field. And such is the inconsistency of human nature, that they are performed by persons who would shudder at the sight of the bleeding flank of the race-horse, or who would lay down with disgust, and some expression of maudlin, morbid humanity, the truly interesting narrative of that most intrepid and enduring of all gallopers, Sir Francis Head. But compare the cases. In the case of the race-horse, his skin is wounded to urge him to his utmost exertion for a few seconds, from which in a few minutes he is perfectly recovered, and ready, nay eager, to start again. In the case of the wild horse of the Pampas, he is urged for two, three, or perhaps five hours, to the utmost distress for wind, as well as muscular fatigue. He is enlarged, and in a day or two he is precisely the same as if he had never been ridden. But in the case of the English road-rider, though no spur is used, unfair advantage is taken of the horse’s impetuous freedom of nature, his sinews are strained, his joints permanently stiffened, he is deprived at once and for ever of his elasticity and action, and brought prematurely a cripple to the grave.

BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS.

April, 1861.