CHAPTER XIV.. Breaking and Training--Their Errors and Their Results.

BREAKING AND TRAINING--THEIR ERRORS AND THEIR RESULTS.

However much the English nation may have advanced in civilization, as regards the horse, its habits, its subjugation, and its training, two centuries would appear to have introduced no important change or material improvement. Some minor alterations, undoubtedly, have been adopted; but the benefits conferred upon the animal by such innovations are more than questionable; and these variations seem to have been regulated far more by obedience to the progress of society, than to have been recommended by the slightest sympathy for the quadruped.

A reference to the copper-plate engravings which ornament the old work, in two volumes folio, by William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, entitled “A General System of Horsemanship,” will demonstrate the present formal mode of sitting in the saddle, which is now regarded as imperative by the military profession, to be no more than the ancient fashion of riding which was common with our ancestry. In language, manners, costume, or in any of the many things which mark a people’s advance, fixedness has not been allowed to check invention; but, where improvement was most needed, not only to ameliorate the condition of the slave, but to confirm the progression of man, by rendering impossible those sights which degrade and which debase the reasoning faculty, it has apparently been absent. The creature, during these years, has altered in form, and has become milder in character. The spurs and bits of former times are no longer in general use, because these are no longer required. They assuredly were not cast aside from any consideration for the life to coerce which they were employed, although a simple regard for property may have banished such ready instruments of torture and of injury. In justification of the foregoing remarks, the portrait of the Marquis (only of a much reduced size) is inserted on the next page.

The lunging of the existing horse-breaker is obviously nothing beyond that circular practice which constituted the chief portion of equine education with our forefathers. It is in the book just named depicted over and over again, until the image, from repetition, grows tedious. It seems very difficult to understand the useful or rational purpose which this peculiar lesson is now intended to support. Some persons assert it is of much service in taming, as it assuredly must tire, the colt. Others declare it teaches the animal to bear properly on particular limbs. A third party assures us it is of infinite service, because it instructs the young horse in leaning toward the rein, and, by not permitting the eyes to be wholly engaged in directing the feet, it obliges the quadruped to employ “high action.”

The use of the limbs is governed by the natural formation of the body; this last no breaker will undertake to improve. It certainly is assuming too much for any art to pretend it can alter that which nature has decreed. A well-formed creature, although it should never have experienced the breaker’s instruction, will, of necessity, exhibit grace in its movements. The action of a badly-made quadruped may be temporarily disguised, but it will permanently retain only the mode of progression it is fitted to exemplify. By forcing a faulty horse to trot in a shallow stream, or by obliging the animal to move briskly with sand bags attached round the fore fetlocks, a badly-made colt often will, for a space, adopt a higher action; but it is always certain that this step, which has been acquired at personal inconvenience, will not be long maintained, when the inducement no longer operates.

But, to take a practical view of the good likely to result from lunging. Horses sometimes are obliged to move in circles: mill horses pass their lives in such educational employment. The only effect produced by this long course of instruction is that the poor victims become sightless. Traveling round and round soon causes giddiness, or induces a determination of blood to the brain. Young animals often stagger when relieved from their monotonous course of lunging duties. Old quadrupeds, we are told, grow used to the motion; but such familiarity is purchased with the deprivation of one “precious sense.” This termination is hastened with the rapidity of the movements. Mill horses walk their monotonous rounds; but the breaker, dreading no results, makes the colt trot when describing this, his favorite figure.

Blood, therefore, rapidly loads and oppresses the brain of the young animal thus abused; and this consequence is the quicker as the pace is more excited, because the circulation is not only faster, but it is also more under subjection to external influences in the young than in the matured. The optic nerves originate from the sensorium, being a direct continuation of the substance of the brain itself; whenever the nervous center is congested, sight is the first sense that suffers, or the first that tells the condition of the organ. Frequent repetition of this result upon the delicate structures of growing life appears to be an antiquated custom, which modern civilization should immediately abolish. It is not prudent in man to hazard the injury of his most valuable possession, when he simply intends to render the animal better suited for his service.

Gentlemen no longer delight to disport on “the grand horse;” neither is it esteemed any part of a liberal education to exhibit an ability to sit in the “high saddle.” It is, then, impossible to understand the motive which reconciles the present generation to an injurious form, the intention of which was exploded many years ago. No direct result appears to favor of habit. The people who profess to “break in” colts may vaunt their capabilities; but the author cannot remember the quadrupeds which, by force or cunning, however unscrupulously employed, had been in any degree improved. On the contrary, he has seen several, and has heard of more animals, which are reputed to have been injured by having been improperly “broken.”

The horse is the most patient servant intrusted to mortality. Man can only spoil, when he essays to amend the perfection of Heaven’s gift. It is good enough in its natural state. It was sent upon earth with a disposition which adapted it for that position it was destined to occupy. It was created with a spirit that yearned to love, that was happy to serve, and that was proud to obey. Must it not be the fatuity of weakness which tempts mankind to waste the strength, to distort the limbs, and to hazard the sight of their most precious possession, by a senseless adherence to an antiquated form?

Every gentleman was intended to be his own horse-breaker, in the same manner as it is now acknowledged that all men should exercise authority over those families at the heads of which they are placed. The qualifications for such an office many gentlemen may be inclined to dispute; at their investment with such a novel duty many individuals may express unqualified surprise. This, however, is only the announcement of man’s want of appreciation for the blessings which surround him. Could humanity exalt its vision, it would perceive in its increased duties the boundless mercies which have fitted it to rule on earth!

The horse is, essentially, the servant of man. The greatest indulgence cannot elevate the quadruped out of its real position. The foal is born to its fetters, happy in the bravery of perfect inexperience. Doubting nothing, but too timid to display much trustfulness. Gracefully pliant in its nature, therefore prepared for subjugation; but soon won to love, thereby fitted for domestication. In fact, the horse is the slave of its reverence and its affection. The breaker injures the quadruped by operating only upon its fears, and by not appealing to its higher or its better qualities. The horse, when not guided by its attachments, is a ferocious savage. It is not prudent in man to treat such a gifted creature as though it were a piece of crude metal, which will bend only to the employment of force; but it would be wiser, did he receive and shelter the youthful spirit prepared by its Maker to appreciate the rule dictated by a milder impulse than one of brutal severity.

The equine race are rendered capricious or obstinate by injudicious petting; but they are made dangerous and ferocious by the opposite kind of treatment. The animals which are most valuable, or those with feelings most readily kindled, are the quadrupeds which the breaker quickly and irremediably spoils. Thus was poor Cruiser rendered distrustful, and taught to regard all mankind as enemies. The breaking and training inflicted upon the thorough-bred made an impression which no time could obliterate. The animal became dangerous, and continued so till it encountered Mr. Rarey. His gentleness, blended with an ability to instruct, conquered and subdued the rebellious spirit. In its surprise, the creature rose from its bonds to worship and to love forever the being who had overpowered, but had not pained the “man hater.” To him it became gentle and familiar as a dog; but toward other representatives of humanity it still was urged by that dread which had been established in its colthood.

The quadruped, being thus susceptible to impressions, of course requires a treatment dictated by wisdom and originating in humanity. No maudlin familiarity must ever be indulged, which may cause the slave to forget it is in the presence of its master. Love delights in humility; but the feelings are traitorous which tempt mortality to assume such a character before its equine dependent. The aptitude for being spoilt pervades all animal life. It is only more strongly marked in the horse than in other creatures. The dog, when too much indulged, loses its affection in its sense of power: it will often snap at the hand which feeds it. The horse requires, at all times, a conviction of authority to restrain its strength. If permitted to indulge its own will,--to stop when the voice says “go on,”--it changes from the most subservient of slaves into the most capricious of masters. Therefore man, in his intercourse with the equine race, should, from prudential motives, never be cruel; but, to anticipate the necessity for punishment, he should remember that nature had created the horse to serve and given it a disposition to obey.

Kindness, however, is essential. When training a racer, excess of fluid is assuredly inimical to condition. But it is not therefore desirable to place the animal where a morbid longing is certain to be generated. That, however, is now always done. The stable is heated with impurity: fever is the consequence. Food is given dry: the raging thirst of disease is thereby aggravated. Still, the trainer laments many of his horses will not eat, while more fail during his efforts to promote their condition. Could he be persuaded to amend his ways, possibly he would have less occasion to sorrow over imaginary misfortunes!

Place the horse in a warm, but airy, loose box. Give the water mingled with the food, or soak the fodder before presenting it. The creature naturally consumes little liquid during health. But if the body be diseased, morbid appetites are excited. Now, condition is the perfection of possible health, and the author only complains because modern training is not calculated to attain the end at which it obviously strives. Therefore, much is ruined and little perfected under the prevailing system. The measures are wrong, simply because they are cruel. They are calculated to provoke resistance rather than win obedience from a simple being. Severity never shows itself so abhorrent as when exercised over the meek and the submissive.

At the same time that man’s power may be perfect, it should be as a law of existence: it should be exercised from the hour of birth, not suddenly imposed upon an unbroken spirit which had previously been permitted to enjoy the wildest freedom. It should govern from the earliest consciousness, not, as now, be plumped upon a young life which has hitherto been permitted to roam, knowing no restraint. The foal should not run entirely free by its mother’s side: the colt should not be turned into some handy paddock to feed and grow, till it is old enough “to be wanted:” the life should not exist without a need or a care, until a certain age is attained, when the young creature is to be suddenly parted from its enjoyments, and the happy spirit is to be literally “broken” unto the most servile obedience.

Let the education commence with the birth. Let a man always present the vessel from which the mother feeds. The mare will obey the instinct of appetite; the behavior of its dam will instruct the impulses of her young. At the expiration of a week or two, the semblance of a head-stall may be put on the foal; but this should never be worn when the groom is absent, as animals may cast themselves, by getting the hind hoof entangled when endeavoring to scratch the ear. That part of the body the friction of the straps generally causes to itch; the consequence being almost certain, the result is likewise fatal. Several valuable horses have been sacrificed, through grooms turning the creatures into the field without removing the halters. These last were left on, because the quadrupeds, when thus caparisoned, were more easily caught by an idle domestic. This subject has, in a previous part of the work, been illustrated; but to prevent the inconvenience of a reference to a former page, the engraving was reproduced.

After a space, a cord may be attached, and the young may be held while its parent feeds. Then something like a surcingle may be fixed round the body; such things should be made of strips of cloth or of calico, the intention merely being to indicate those articles which must be assumed hereafter. Subsequently a juicy piece of any root the creature may delight in--of marsh-mallow, of aniseseed, or of liquorice--should be inserted between the lips as a mimic bit, from which should depend two short reins. If these things are properly made and carefully introduced, every addition will be accepted with pleasure as a new ornament. No sense of restraint will interfere with an innocent amusement; but the little animal, conscious of no pain, will soon exhibit gratification when arrayed in the representatives of future fetters.

At the same time the hand should be frequently passed over the body, and occasionally carried down the limbs, although nothing approaching a regular grooming can, as yet, be necessary. The fluff of the mane, the tail, the forelock, and the fetlock should, subsequently, be combed out very gently, the attendant taking care to praise the foal during the process, and feigning to feel ecstatic admiration after the performance of each operation. All animal life--even does the truth extend to the birds--is peculiarly susceptible to human flattery; for the German peasant teaches the bullfinch to pipe, by dancing before its cage, playing to the captive, and only pausing after each tune to indulge in the pretense of a most extravagant delight.

The youngster should then be led about a meadow by its tiny reins: when perfect in this lesson, it may be fastened to its mother’s head while the mare goes to or from its labor. But it must not be forgotten that a harsh word, hastily spoken, may efface more knowledge than a month of tender tuition can communicate. Gentleness and equanimity are of all value, when the confidence of young existence has to be won; for such a capacity, patience becomes something more than an ordinary virtue. Some shyness or show of resistance must be expected when the little foal finds itself first fastened to its mother’s side, near the shafts of a light cart; but this will speedily disappear. The tiny feet should, at length, be raised, and afterward the horn be gently tapped or rapped against. These things should be repeated, till they are submitted to without any evidence of fear having been excited by the liberties. Such preparatory lessons ought to be given before the strength is sufficiently matured to be dangerous.

When the weaning has, by the process of nature, been accomplished, the colt should not be turned out and neglected until a determined time for “breaking in” comes round. It should still be sheltered and nourished at the home, the previous lessons being enforced with greater emphasis as the age progresses, and the animal being taken occasionally to the forge, there to stand among other horses, but not to be shod. From its earliest day, man should appear as the necessary companion to every movement. It will soon learn to follow like a dog; thus it may enjoy a partial degree of freedom. But no weakness should betray its custodian into any resemblance even of over-indulgence, although the little creature will regard its tutor with affection, so he does not by his severity repel its advances.

When, however, the animal is no longer permitted to run by its parent’s side, the education ought to assume the character of earnest. A small snaffle should be attached to a regular bridle; when the youngster is led out to exercise, this harness should be put on. The surcingle should be exchanged for something resembling a saddle; ultimately, a dumb jockey ought to be mounted on the back. Upon the extended points of the last machine, an old hat and a cloth may be affixed. These objects will at first excite terror; but fear not being justified and the colt not being hurt by the dreaded presence, confidence will return. A sack, stuffed with straw, and moulded somewhat into the shape of a man, should then be placed over the dumb jockey. Little stirrups and a pair of representative legs should hang on either side, while, to complete the whole, reins may be fastened to the bit; a portion of these last being formed of India-rubber, for not a few mouths are permanently destroyed by the unyielding tug of the heavy-fisted breaker.

All these liberties being permitted, if the instruction has been properly communicated, the pupil will have been rather pleasurably excited than permanently alarmed by the varied progress of its tuition. Such lessons, however, should be daily given, until the colt has attained its second year. It should then be regularly groomed; but nothing weightier than a dumb jockey being placed upon its back before the third year has been completed.

This age being attained, a very diminutive lad may be put into the colt’s saddle; but as boys are too apt to spoil the mouth by hanging back and holding on by the reins, the India-rubber had better be continued, and the jockey instructed not to interfere with the bridle, save when his so doing is necessary to guide the animal. Then the teaching of different paces may begin, the quadruped being always instructed in company with a perfectly trained old horse. All feeble intellects are apt at imitation, and a colt shall readily learn from example what coercion will fail to impart.

By the fourth year, the animal may be placed between the shafts of a very light gig, should its form indicate the creature not to be adapted for the saddle; at first it must be walked about a meadow. When the sound of the wheels is not listened for with evidence of fear, the pace may be quickened. Subsequently a boy may get into the vehicle, while the man remains at the colt’s head. Succeeding this, the course should be directed by the driver; ultimately, after a man has for some weeks assumed the office of director, the vehicle may be taken upon the road.

Most harness horses are very imperfectly broken. The education is too hurried, and seems to be considered as perfected whenever the animal will merely take to the collar. The consequence is, there are more bad harness horses to be met with in London than creatures of any other description. Some have all spirit lashed or jaded out of them; these have become “slugs,” or the poor wretches are almost dead to command and insensible to the goad. Others are rendered incurable kickers by the treatment to which they have been subjected. A third class are ruined by the unscrupulous use of the reins; and some of these will take long journeys, all the time holding the bit between the teeth. A fourth set are rendered cripples by the unfeeling employment of the bearing-rein, which disables the organs of respiration, and renders the lightest draught a terrible burden, by throwing the work upon the muscles of the limbs, while it compels these agents to contract at a fearful disadvantage.

Those who delight in a lofty crest may accomplish more by attention to the health and diet than by the absence of humanity. The strongest bearing-rein and the sharpest bit cannot exalt the head of a spiritless horse. Clover, tares, beans and peas, by promoting the strength and lending tone to the muscular system, will do more to raise the neck and promote gayety of spirit than the harness-maker can accomplish. Bearing-reins are disgraceful cruelties, and do no more than expose the moral condition or the pecuniary meanness of those parties who employ them.

In corroboration of the importance of the neck as an aid to motion, the reader must pardon the author if he refers to a well-marked circumstance which has hitherto escaped observation. A horse with a thin or narrow neck, measuring from the crest to the windpipe, should always be avoided. It denotes bodily weakness, and testifies to an absence of spirit. The cervical region always first exhibits the token of approaching emaciation. If the reader will hereafter test the remark by observation, he will find all poor, exhausted animals, which carry the head as though its weight was oppressive, invariably have the neck much impoverished and altogether attenuated.

In short, a mere catalogue of the evils engendered by the injudicious breaking of draught horses, would occupy more space than the author has at his command. For this reason, the driver of a young animal should never be intrusted with reins made entirely of leather; a part of the length should be composed of India-rubber. Neither should he be permitted to flourish a whip. All severity is but an indulgence of the controller’s temper; it is unnecessary with a life which is eager to learn and is anxious to obey. The sound of the voice or the gentlest indication should be sufficient to excite the ability of such a pupil. No one can doubt this, who has beheld its activity of ear whenever the horse is addressed.

After the foregoing fashion the education may be perfected, without allowing any professing brute, under the name of a “horse-breaker,” to spoil the temper and to lay the seeds of future disease, by ill treatment of a few weeks’ duration. Some years ago the author remembers meeting a man, who must have weighed more than fourteen stone, seated on a side-saddle, and having a horse rug dangling about his heels. He was supposed to be “breaking in” a colt, rising three, for a lady equestrian. His employer must have been excessively developed, or her representative could only spoil the creature which was, ostensibly, preparing to receive a lighter burden and a more delicate hand. An accident was thus almost rendered certain, whenever the oppressed quadruped should be relinquished to its future mistress.

The matters which have been already pointed out being attended to, and the force having been increased with the growing strength of the colt, the creature, after its fifth year, (if intended for the higher purposes of the saddle,) should be taught to leap. To place a rider on an animal’s back and then to expect a bar to be cleared, is very like loading a young lady with a sack of flour as preparatory to a dancing lesson being received. This folly is, however, universally practiced; so is that of teaching the paces, when the quadruped’s attention is probably engrossed by the burden which the spine has to sustain.

Leaping is best taught by turning the horse into a small paddock having a low hedge or hurdle fence across its center. A rider should, in sight of the animal, take an old horse over this several times. The groom, who brings the corn at the meal hour, then goes to that side where the animal is not, and calls, shaking up the provender all the time his voice sounds. The boundary will soon be cleared. When half the quantity is eaten, the man should proceed to the opposite compartment and call again. If this is done every time the young horse is fed, the fence may be gradually heightened; after six months of such tuition, a light rider may be safely placed upon the back.

Instruction, thus imparted, neither strains the structures nor tries the temper. The habit is acquired without those risks which necessarily attend a novel performance, while a burden oppresses the strength, and whip or spur distracts the attention. The body is not disabled by the imposition of a heavy load before its powers are taxed to the uttermost. The quadruped has all its capabilities unfettered, and, in such a state, leaping speedily becomes as easy of performance as any other motion.

Irish horses, all being excellent jumpers, are much esteemed in England. In Ireland, however, the fields are of small dimensions, and gates leading to them are uncommon. It is not unusual for a quadruped to be obliged to clear numerous walls before a certain pasture can be gained. Thus, to leap is rendered a prominent necessity of equine existence, for the steed must either jump or starve. By such a condition of their residence is the Irish breed made conspicuous for that activity which especially excites the admiration of Englishmen. Hunting, moreover, is a favorite pastime with the natives of the sister isle; therefore, while most Irish horses become admirable English hunters, the best of the English breed would be sadly thrown out by a short run in the adjacent kingdom. There can be, however, no reason why an English colt, if properly trained, should not become as fine a performer as the most expert or celebrated of those animals which are generally supposed to be born “fencers.”

The seventh year should witness the horse taken into the active service of its master. Too early work, certainly, cripples the majority of animals; but there is not a circumstance of the many, rebuked in these pages, which does not aid powerfully in producing that miserable effect. All the customs about the equine race seem to be antiquated and injurious. An animal is taken up, is cast, is operated upon, is shod, is broken, and is sold often in the course of a few weeks. What a change has to be submitted to! Every incident of life is altered--the creature is suddenly called upon to endure a new existence. Is it a matter for surprise that nature occasionally rebels against so wholesale an innovation? Is it not a proof of the sweetness of the disposition which graces the equine race, that the majority can yield themselves up to the barbarity of such a terrible mutation?

The author does not imagine that any person will immediately delay the breaking of his horse up to the period which has been suggested. To take a colt only every second year, and always allow seven years to pass before the animal is brought to market, would, assuredly, double the present cost; or, in other words, it would displace those animal weeds which now cheapen the price of horse flesh. No proposal generally succeeds in the modern age, in which expense is decidedly ignored. The reader is, therefore, not expected to alter his plans because the present volume has been published. Something, however, will have been gained if the book causes him to question his existing behavior, even though he should not modify his proceedings. A writer, however, is bound to state that which in his conviction is the truth, and to pay no regard to motives of mere expediency. Then, putting probability and expense, convenience and existing arrangements out of the question, let the reader deliberately say, whether very much of what he has read was not right in theory.

Then, as regards money expense, this might not be increased; for if the animal would cost twice as much, it would endure under a better system four times as long. The outlay, consequently, reckoned against the years of service, would be smaller; nevertheless, many a decade must elapse before that which the book declares is practically carried out. Still, if a few only are convinced, and none adopt the plans proposed, good will ultimately result; for the right must be known before it can be practiced, and man generally, in the end, does that which his better sense has acknowledged to be just. The impulse which urges him to such a course may be resisted; but it will, as a necessity of his existence, at length operate; for by such an irresistible power are thrones upturned, are institutions amended, and all human progress is ultimately controlled.

The animal being educated according to the foregoing description,--not being forced to strain its thews and to distort its limbs before the frame has fairly been perfected, but being gradually brought to the mark of its requirements, and also permitted time to comprehend, before it is lashed to perform--being allowed the benefits of practice prior to being expected to exhibit its accomplishments--being simply treated after a manner that every grade of reason must recognize as just,--would come forth in the full possession of all its natural powers, and would distance the swarm of equine babies which now disgrace the thoroughfares, encumber the field, and ruin the race-course. It would be fitted to carry a man in any manly sport; and it would be able, not being distraught by bodily pains, to sympathize in the pleasures of its rider, and to share the amusement in which he delighted.

One peculiarity, illustrative of the present mode of preparing quadrupeds for exertion, is to be witnessed in most hunting fields. The young gentleman who pays hundreds, perhaps, for his “mount,” and whose horse has been long under the trainer’s care, is usually “nowhere” at the death, although he is at liberty to choose his way and to regulate his pace according to his pleasure; whereas the huntsman, seated on a screw which has been hacked throughout the summer, is generally foremost in the chase.

This seeming inconsistency evidently favors those notions which the author has presumed to promulgate. The wealthy scion of aristocracy usually sits upon the young beauty, while the huntsman generally bestrides the aged animal. The older steed may be of little worth, and its blemishes may be numerous; but it has not been exhausted under a pretense of fitting it to endure; it has been hacked or ridden through the months when the younger quadruped was imprisoned in absolute idleness. The cheaper horse has been in constant requisition to exercise the dogs, etc., and therefore its health has been better preserved than is that of the gentleman’s steed, which is either new to the sport, or has recently been taken from the supposed enjoyment of a summer’s rest.

Training of hunters and of racers, as at present conducted, is neither a strengthening nor a refreshing process. The animal that has recently been relinquished by the trainer, instead of being able to endure extra exertion, is generally debilitated by those measures which were designed to produce a contrary effect. In the first place, three doses of physic, which are given under a belief of their tonic efficacy, are quite sufficient to disable any creature, that, like the horse, is possessed of a very large and a very long digestive track, or which nature, as a protection, had rendered almost safe from the purgative operation of medicinal agents. Before the bowels of the horse can be loosened, the primary effects of poisoning must be established. Aloes is the favorite purgative of the stable; but so nearly related are the quantity which relaxes and the amount which kills, that probably aloes has poisoned more horses than all other drugs in the pharmacopœia.

The reader, to whom such a subject is a novelty, may inquire what the intestines have to do with the muscular action. Supposing such a question possible, the author replies, that although the animal body is made up of numerous parts, and composed of various organs, nevertheless the whole is so united that no part or structure can be diseased, but the whole is affected. The intestinal track is lined with mucous membrane. When this surface is involved, prostration or debility ensues. Cold and sore throat are ready instances of this result; for both are consequent upon small portions of inflamed mucous membrane. Imagine, then, the utter prostration which must ensue upon the morbid excitement of so large a mucous surface as that which covers the digestive canal of a horse. Yet the trainer thrice induces this consequence, under an ignorant conviction that by so doing he confers upon the sufferer extraordinary nervous energy!

Purging is, however, only slightly more weakening than sweating. Perspiration acts differently on different specimens of the same species. One person is nearly always bathed in moisture; another invariably presents a dry skin. This shall hardly be moved without the surface of his body being loaded with copious drops of fluid exudation; that will endure the utmost exertion, grow heated at any employment, but will not sensibly lose a particle by transmission. The trainer, nevertheless, treats all animals alike. He gallops every quadruped submitted to his care, as though the consequence was invariably beneficial. In vain does one horse break down, another refuse its corn, and a third exhibit swollen legs or crippled feet, while a fourth shall be only rendered more lively by the process which disabled its fellows. To sweat is a part of the trainer’s system, and all the creatures which he is to train must therefore be violently sweated.

With racers, to these modes of debilitating is united a third,--excessive labor. The horse is tried at its topmost speed. These trials are frequent; although it is a common saying that a horse may be trained until it cannot move, still the practice is continued. The pace is quite as severe as it is in a public race; the weight is usually pretty much the same. It is well known that these trials are often run in less time than the contest for which they are thought to be only a preparation. Notwithstanding the repeated disappointment and the frequent injury induced, such prejudicial experiments are continued, though not in every sphere of training. Men train as prize fighters, but they do not, before entering the ring, engage in numerous pitched battles. There is, assuredly, something wrong when the same law is stringent in one case but is inoperative in another, although both instances are supposed to be governed by the similar regulations.

The trainer of late years has somewhat changed his customs. Formerly, animals, while in training, were taken out of the stable twice each day. Now they are allowed only to smell the air once in twenty-four hours; but the period of labor is lengthened. The pace and the extent of time over which it ranges are important considerations when young life has to be dealt with. No less deserving some reflection is the burden to be carried during such exertion. Last of all, and probably as important as any, is the particular hour during which the natural habits of the colt fit it to sustain extraordinary fatigue.

The trainer’s horses, ranged in Indian file, are now abroad from eleven: sometimes they return by twelve; at other occasions it is half-past twelve before the bridles are slackened; but generally one o’clock has struck before the saddles are removed. From eleven to one is the precise period when the sun attains its greatest altitude. At this time, those insect pests which torment the equine race are busy and abroad. It is true, the eye of the animal fits it to encounter the glare of the desert, but instinct disposes the quadruped to roam only when the atmosphere is cool, when all its annoyances have retired, and when moisture hangs upon the earth. The eye can better sustain the effects of light in its excess than the feet--than the horn of the hoof can endure the results of dryness or the hardness of a baked English clay.

Yet the training horse is housed in stables the temperature of which is oppressive, the foulness of which must be most injurious to the prisoner. It is there shut in stench and in darkness to recruit its strength, and to gain fresh energy to endure further reduction. Exercised, when nature would dispose the animal to rest; forced to submit to a fainting warmth, when instinct would induce the creature to seek the coolest shade; ridden, till it almost fails; physicked, till it reels; and sweated, till the process makes it fear the opening of its stable door,--how is the trained quadruped nurtured? How is it supported, to fortify the body for bearing up against such numerous trials?

It is compelled to consume hard corn and fibrous hay. Water is stinted. The measures just described must generate a raging thirst; but the trainer, according to his system, refuses drink. The contents of the manger must aggravate the dryness of the throat; but the trainer begrudgingly permits the animal to imbibe the contents of the pail. The mode of feeding is productive of other evils. Purging and sweating are excused, as necessary to remove accumulations of fat. Corn and hay are those very substances which induce the accumulation of fat! Then, according to the present trainer’s pretended system, one thing does that which another undoes. Whether nature is invigorated by such a process, the reader must decide. But, in the author’s opinion, the existing method is a prejudice, which reason condemns, and which man is not justified in compelling any creature to undergo.

All the foregoing customs are, in the author’s judgment, decidedly wrong. The stable should be cool--not cold--sheltered and airy. The loose box should be large enough for the limbs to be stretched and for the position to be varied, according to the inclination of the inmate. The kind of equine residence which the writer approves of has already been described; for information upon this subject, the reader is referred to the chapter treating of “Stables as they should be.”

The food should not be such as requires stone or steel to comminute it. Horses’ jaws are not machines urged by steam, by wind, or by water; but they are only bones acted upon by the contraction of muscular fiber. The exhaustion of a part must, as has been already explained, affect the whole; the exertion of extraordinary power in the head will, therefore, not refresh the limbs. Feed the animal, while being trained, upon softened, not upon watery substances. Do not oblige the body to supply its own moisture, for that is to deprive the system of part of the nourishment which should be devoted to uphold the strength.

As concerns the articles of food, these should not consist of oats and hay, although a portion of either may form a part of the sustenance. There are certain substances the nutritive qualities of which are expended in the formation of muscular fiber; other materials are devoted entirely upon the adipose tissues. Among the last prominently stand the favorite provender of the English stable. A little of such nourishment is needed to supply the exhaustion of activity: so much should be presented. Of the other description--as beans, peas, vetches--there is a numerous tribe of legumens or plants, which present their seeds in pods. Hay should be made of these substances, by the seeds being sown broadcast and mown when only in flower. It is unfortunate that there exists a belief such articles are of too stimulating a nature to form the larger part of the stable diet. That, however, is a point which can only be decided by experiment; and the best proof that no trial of the kind has been made, is afforded by the needful preparation required for its institution being unknown. However, the general custom of maintaining agricultural teams upon green vetches certainly does not countenance the notion that peril necessarily attends the adoption of such a form of diet.

The hours of exercise should be amended. The morning’s work should be performed at the earliest dawn, when it is getting light. The evening’s labor should take place at dusk--after sunset. The dew will then moisten and refresh the feet; the cool air will brace and revive the spirits. At such hours horses are always full of animation. At mid-day the creatures incline to repose. The animals, during the greatest heat, congregate under trees, hang the heads, and only by the nervous stamping of the feet or the lashing of the tails, testify to being conscious of the myriads which buzz around them.

No animal should be trained with a weight upon the back. It should be led by a man, mounted upon an older horse. The exercise should never be carried beyond that which is needed to support the health; it cannot possibly be otherwise than injurious, when it is pushed to the point of exhaustion. It betrays the folly of the present system, when we hear a trainer assert that the legs and feet cannot endure the work necessary to promote “condition.” Condition could be induced without a single gallop. Trotting--easy motion--is all that is absolutely imperative; only the exercise should continue longer than is at present usual on training ground. A horse thus conditioned would be brought to the post with its energies fresh for the trial--not lamed, nearly crippled, nor thoroughly enervated.

Breaking and training both require serious revision. The first needs to be made level with the improved civilization and gentler habits of the present time; whereas it is now almost that which it has been from the earlier period of authentic record.

No notice is taken of the presence of railways; of the general custom of using fire-arms; of discharging fire-works, or the almost universal habit of gas illumination; not to mention the various strange sights and novel exhibitions which the modern streets and highways frequently display. Accidents, neither few nor far between, are provoked by these things; but the breaker, nevertheless, refuses to acknowledge their existence. He views his duties as perfected, and as needing or admitting of no improvement!

So also the trainer. His system has been only influenced by the evils generated through the customs which he obeys. Beyond the race-course, he sees and acknowledges nothing. Railways bring crowds down to all the great contests; but he still trains his horses to run in stillness and in solitude. Many quadrupeds “shut up,” when the people shout: the cause of this conduct the trainer refuses to recognize. Numerous animals only show their qualities after age has familiarized them with the tumult of the mob; still, the trainer can see no intimation in so evident a sequence, although intimately associated as cause and effect.

Then, with respect to aloes. This drug should be discarded altogether. Neither should any of the different nostrums, now common in the stable, be employed. Supposing the abdomen to be larger than is desirable, its amendment should be controlled by condensed diet, and sufficient but easy exercise. An occasional drachm dose of iodide of iron, which medicine is both an absorbent and a tonic, may, at long intervals, be exhibited. Where costiveness prevails, a bran mash or two, with a bundle of green meat, would counteract the symptom. To improve the coat, liquor arsenicalis, in ounce doses, should be administered; for this preparation operates upon the integument, by strengthening the body.

The trainer may exclaim against green meat; but it does not retard condition or generate weakness like aloes, and if employed as a medicine, it is of all importance. Beyond the drugs mentioned, nothing should be given, save under professional advice: the lockers should be cleared of all medicinal agents. Other compounds are not quite abolished; but these should be exhibited only by the veterinary surgeon--the quadruped being physicked as little as possible. When trained after the method which has been indicated, all the dangers of the process would be avoided: the health, not the judgment of any interested individual, would declare whether the instructions had been obeyed, or the orders had been violated. Mystery and impudence would be rendered inoperative, and every animal started for a race should return to the post. Many of the starters should not, as now, be left, blown, crippled, or exhausted, in the middle of the course.

There is an enemy which the trainer little suspects, but which affects the health and the honesty of his establishment. No regulation can be rigidly carried out, when its adoption is dependent upon the whim and the humor of those undersized lads who lounge about the door of every training stable. These boys are not half employed: they delight to excel each other in “larks,” in daring, and in mischief. They are very seldom trustworthy. The reason which causes them to be retained, is the lightness of their bodies. Their duty is to groom and to ride the animals which are placed under the trainer’s charge. But the first business is lightened by a series of unfeeling antics; the last is the act which very few of these youths can properly perform. They get into the saddle and manage to remain there; but how far they study anything more than that, is demonstrated by so few of the urchins being promoted to jockeys, for which calling the trainer’s stable should be the regular entrance.

Many a horse will refuse to win a race from stubbornness of temper. When the way is clear before it, the racer not unfrequently “shuts up,” and cannot be induced to exert its ability or to win. Whence is derived that perversity which loves to thwart the power a slave lives but to obey? It is not natural to the breed or to the tribe. Pass through a flock of yearlings, and the path is interrupted, positively impeded, by a host of velvet noses, each demanding to be noticed. Way is difficult to be made through so much importunate affection! However, walk down the gangway of the two-year old stalls in any trainer’s stable, and “’ware horse,” “’ware heels,” is frequently shouted out, while the excess of white displayed by each animal’s eye palpably denotes the reason of the warning.

The trainer may as well break the leg of a colt as ruin its temper. The spirit cannot be right, when the temper, which governs it, is permanently warped. The power to win is of no service, if the inclination to exert it does not also exist. The boys tease and plague the creatures, whose fate is, by the rules of training, not so blissful as to admit of such insults being patiently endured. The act offends, and engenders a desire of resentment, which constitutes the “jolly fun” of the lads. The more excitable a colt may be, the more valuable it is likely to prove to its owner; but in proportion to its value is the animal exposed to the pranks which may ruin its chances in the struggle. These things, of course, are not practiced with the trainer’s knowledge; but, nevertheless, they are all but universal, and will become more general if the custom of employing uneducated boys is not abolished.

Another foolish practice is the starving all animals when most in need of support. This is common with racers and with hunters. When extra energy is imperative, the trainer, by his conduct, pursues the measure best calculated to destroy all inclination for exertion. The plea urged in defense of such folly is, that a loaded stomach oppresses the breathing. This is true enough; but the evils which result from gluttony do not establish that good only can ensue upon starvation. Let the trainer experiment upon himself, and decide whether a light meal or no meal at all is the better preparation for an extraordinary performance. Many trainers assert that a full stomach rests upon the diaphragm, and thereby is detrimental to the respiration. This is a mistake. The digestive sac is pendent beneath the respiratory agent; a fact which an inspection of the annexed engraving will amply illustrate.

1. The lungs. 2. The stomach. 3. The intestines. 4. The diaphragm. 5. The bladder. ]

If the horse is about to follow the hounds, let a meal of concentrated nourishment be presented. This may consist of a quart of softened malt, or a two-pound stale loaf, moistened with fluid, or a few soaked ship biscuits, or anything of the like nature. This quantity must drive away the pangs of hunger, and the languor attending the sensation; but the author confidently asserts the impossibility of such a repast proving detrimental to the respiration. Then, let every gentleman, who follows the chase, put into each coat-tail pocket a penny loaf. When a check occurs, the rider should dismount, and, having soaked one portion of the bread in any brook or pool, present it to his steed. Such a quantity would be indeed only a snack; but it would be a welcome refreshment. It would serve to repel the approach of inanition, and enable the quadruped to join with spirit in the next “break away.”

On the course, excess of weakness has lost many a race. Why should such a system be longer pursued? Why are famishing animals, when prostrated by the want of nourishment, enervated by actual hunger and by thirst, only considered qualified to exhibit fleetness? Is not the idea, when plainly stated, a self-evident fallacy? Nor is it the only error which besets the antiquated customs of the trainer. It is usual to change the shoes, in which the animal is to run, for what are termed “plates,” or, in other words, for shoes so light that fearful accidents are reported to have occurred from these inadequate protectors of the hoof. Such things have broken during the violence of the contest. Is there not a foppery in the notion of making a horse’s shoe so slight that it shall lose its property of protection, to gain which advantage alone caused the animals to be shod?

All men who have written about the horse agree in regarding the shoe as an evil only to be endured because of its necessity. Its chief injuries are accomplished by fettering the quarters as well as the heels, also by throwing the elastic frog out of use. Upon the action of these very parts of the horse’s foot the bound, the spring, and the grace of the animal in no small degree depend. The operation of such organs should, therefore, be of more importance to the thorough-bred than they are to any other description of quadruped. Were these structures never fettered, but the colt left to comprehend their use, its agility would be increased, its stride would be lengthened, and its speed augmented.

The racer chiefly employs the toe to bear weight upon, or this part has to endure nearly all the stress sustained by the hoof while the creature is running. Now, there are shoes known as “tips” which protect the forward horn, but which leave the elasticity of the backward portions of the foot unfettered. This form of shoe is no novelty. It is no crotchet of the author’s, puffed into notice by a morbid fancy. It is very humiliating, but it is necessary to make such an acknowledgment, to take from a recommendation all suspicion of the personal or interested motives which are too frequently urged against those who advocate any improvement in stable practice. The author is impelled to make the suggestion simply by his interest in the subject. That the reader may comprehend the difference between the two forms of shoe, and respectively denominated a plate and a tip, the illustrations of each are here reproduced from the article on Shoeing.

A greater injury is inflicted, however, than has yet been named. Blood horses are often affected with brittle hoofs. This condition of horn renders the nailing on of shoes, even in ordinary cases, a matter of some difficulty. It is a principle with smiths never, if possible, to drive a nail twice into the same hole; and these fastenings being made to pierce the hard outer covering of the wall, the hold is, at all times, in danger of breaking away; but when the horn is abnormally dry or brittle, the nails can scarcely be rendered secure by any possible artifice.

The kind of hoof which prevails among the breed renders it very desirable that the shoes generally worn should never be changed. Tips being of smaller size especially, if a bit of steel were let in upon the toe, if the shoe was formed of the very best metal, as the animal is invariably exercised upon turf, need not be much heavier, if at all weightier, than the present racing plate. Any difference which possibly should exist would, however, be counterbalanced by a healthy condition of horn induced by the greater freedom that must be consequent upon an adoption of the proposed plan; while if a slight additional burden be imposed, that must be much more than counteracted by the new organs to be brought into activity. The frog and the heels, which are now made useless, would lend lightness to the tread, and an ease of motion would thereby be secured.

Another evil is produced by the peculiar notions which the order of trainers have for ages stubbornly adopted, and which gentlemen of education seem to have implicitly accepted. Man himself is not more gregarious than the horse. Men congregate in towns; but it is not unusual to encounter the individual whose delight is solitude. The equine race, when free to exercise a choice, are always seen in flocks; and a solitary animal is never to be met with. Yet it has been found that the severity of eight months’ solitary imprisonment cannot be sustained by human culprits. The trainer, however, permits his countenance to radiate under the smiles of benevolence, when he talks of turning an animal into a loose box and of granting the prisoner more than half a year of rest. He never appears to think, nor does his employer seem to think for him, whether such a notion be possible. No one, apparently, questions whether stagnation can be a punishment to the living embodiment of muscular activity! We see the heads of quadrupeds, wearing the impress of dejection and looking the images of hopeless misery, hanging over the doors of their cells; but no one reads the lessons which such melancholy spectacles plainly indicate. The language of truth is not understood, and cruelty is perpetuated by ignorance.

When such things are general through the land, is it not justice which has stigmatized England as “the hell of horses?” Does not the heart shudder, as it contemplates the sufferings which have for ages been perpetrated upon the most generous and most self-sacrificing of man’s many helpmates? Why doom a quadruped to months of positive stagnation? What is it that converts the intended generosity, where the horse is concerned, into an excuse for actual torture? Why is every act and every intent, when directed to this creature, made to augment and to increase its present load of most unmerited suffering?

Wherefore should the hunter, when the season is over, be shut up or cast aside, as though its life or its feelings were unworthy of consideration? It would be better for the quadruped’s health and its happiness, if the attentions to its personal comfort were continued. It would repay the trouble, were it regularly groomed, and fed upon the stable provender. Not turned into a box; its body being, for half a year, uncleansed, and its health being debilitated by a superabundance of green fodder. It would thrive better, were it gently hacked by a considerate proprietor. Taken out occasionally, and quietly ridden down the shady green lanes of the neighborhood. Never bustled, but sometimes breathed over an even piece of turf. Ridden always for pleasure, but never saddled when business is to be transacted. Such a life might not allow the groom so much leisure; but it would materially lessen his labors when the hunting season approached. The animal would need but little “conditioning.” Improper sustenance would not have induced dropsy; nor would the joints have stiffened by a long period of enforced inactivity.

In conclusion, no horse should be considered fit for general purposes until it has been educated to stand fire,--to hear the rush of sudden noises without alarm, and to remain quiet while a railway whistle is sounded by its rider. Were such things taught, how much misery would be avoided! But the public, as a body, have no faith in goodness, although they profess to believe that the All-good is the All-wise.

Does it not sound like a fabrication, to say that in the land where many barbarities are openly practiced by the higher orders of society, there should exist a combination, supported by the rich, established to suppress cruelty when perpetrated by the lower classes? The society alluded to should not be abolished. As an institution, it is right. But are the patrons in their proper positions, when punishing cruelty to animals? The highest personage heads both the doings of the race-course and the corporation which professes humanity. But which is worst--the sin which, for its pleasure, tortures the young, or the want which, hardened by adversity, disregards the pangs of the aged? Let the society be continued; but let the race-course also be amended. Render it a rational amusement: let it no longer remain the dominion of vice, upheld for gambling purposes, and maintained by the heartless waste of that life of which man, in gratitude, should assert his right to be the natural protector.