TRAINING.
The pleasures of instructing a young unbroken colt are so many and
great, that my sole wonder is how owners of such animals can so often
make up their minds to the demands of the professional breaker: an
individual who, in many cases, deals harshly, and in many more with a
lack of judgment which is as deplorable as it is common.
To enter minutely into the subject of breaking is not by any means my
intention. Volumes might be written about it, and yet the difficulty
which many persons experience in learning from books, might not even
then be overcome. There are as many different ways of training a horse
as there are of training an infant, and I cannot at all agree with the
professedly wise ones who say that only one way can be correct. I have
found a variety of methods answer almost equally well, and I may (in
some instances) say, almost equally _badly_, also--because everything
must depend upon the nature and disposition of the animal that is to be
experimented upon.
Some children are naturally timid, shy, nervous, and retiring, and
cannot be taught at all except by gentle encouragement--a sort of
continual leading onward, without any attempt to drive--while others
are so sullen, obstinate, and ill-conditioned, that gentleness seems
thrown away upon them, and nothing save fear and force are capable of
accomplishing any good. So it is, precisely, with horses; but, just as
instances of dogged obstinacy and evil disposition are happily rare
among children of well-bred parents, so in like manner have I found
it to be with colts that have come of a good stock. I may here take
occasion to say, however, that even with the most viciously disposed
animals, such as future experience proved to be incapable of anything
either good or generous, I invariably commenced with--and persevered
in--the very gentlest treatment, discarding all force, ignoring the
uses of whip and spur, and seeking to subdue by the mildest and most
kindly methods, until compelled to adopt severer ones by the hopelessly
unimpressionable and intractable nature of some among my misguided
charges. Having, then, found so wide a difference of temper and
disposition to exist in the various animals with which I had to do, I
long ago came to the conclusion that to lay down any fixed laws for
training was mere fallacy and nonsense; the system that works admirably
with one may prove a dead failure with another, and taking this into
account I cannot, I think, do better in a chapter like the present,
than state the plan on which I always began to work, and which, as a
rule, I found to succeed, better than any other.
Advising you by my own experience, I should say never, when you can
help it, submit young animals to a so-called professional breaker, but
rather take them in hand yourself, and make up your mind to three
things: first, to bring all the patience of which you are possessed
to bear upon your task, to enable you to govern by gentleness and
forbearance, and not by tyranny and wrath; second, that a colt must be
so handled and trained that he shall never find out his own strength
or power; and third, that you must give the pupil every opportunity of
seeing, smelling, feeling, and hearing things that will at first be
strange to him, remembering that it is by the exercise of these senses
that horses form their judgment of surrounding objects.
I greatly object to the system of lungeing young horses in a circle,
or ring. The evils of it are sufficiently manifested in mill-horses;
but even these are suffered to _walk_ their rounds, whereas the breaker
compels the youngster to trot, and even to canter when going in a
comparatively narrow circle. Injury to the sight is the very commonest
result of the practice, and even if it does not show immediately, or
at the time, it certainly will later on. To travel round and round at
a quick rate in an ordinary ring, forces blood to a young animal’s
brain, and the faster and more excited the pace the more certain will
be the result. The optic nerves may be said to originate from the
sensorium--being, in fact, a continuation of the brain proper--and
whenever the nervous centre is congested, the _sight_ is the first
sense that becomes impaired. There are other evils also connected with
the system into which I need not go; suffice it to say that I regard it
as a highly objectionable one.
[Illustration: MAKING FRIENDS WITH THE YOUNGSTERS.
_page 294._]
The tuition of a colt may be begun when he is three months old,
provided that he has been “gentled” almost from its birth. This can be
done by frequently passing the hands over his body and down his limbs,
dressing his mane and tail, pulling and stroking his ears, speaking
caressingly to him, and in short winning his confidence by uniform
manifestations of kindness and good will.
The earliest trappings should be a small bridle and surcingle made
of very soft wash-leather, or calico--the intention being merely to
indicate the maturer harness that is destined to succeed. Later on,
when a cavesson is adopted, it must be most carefully fitted to the
colt’s head. The noseband is not to be too high, lest it be deprived of
power--or yet low enough to rest on the soft cartilages of the nose,
for fear of impeding respiration and causing pain to the animal by
any jerk that it may chance to receive. It must also fit sufficiently
accurately not to turn round when the rein is drawn tight.
The first regular bit employed should be made of india-rubber, and
this may be immediately followed by a very smooth plain snaffle, with
players, or a “Rarey” bit, with wooden roller, which is very mild and
nice for a beginner.
When you first adjust the mouthpiece do not rein the colt’s head up
to any point beyond that at which he _naturally holds it_: no matter
whether that be high or low. Give him his preliminary lessons in an
enclosed place--a big barn or riding-school will be best, if you happen
to be near one. Accustom your pupil to the sight of _everything_
with which he is destined to make subsequent acquaintance: the
mounting-block, saddle, stirrups, and so forth; and remember that you
cannot talk to him too much, or give him too frequent handling.
[Illustration: RAREY SNAFFLE.]
Forbid the presence of other animals while you are acting as
instructor, as also of any object, human or otherwise, that will be
likely to distract your pupil’s attention. Stand and walk on his _left_
side, keeping pretty well back from him--and deal him out plenty of
rein, or strap--just letting him feel the weight of your hand when
he attempts to run from you, but not on any account drawing him in.
By degrees you can shorten the rein, and when he has learned to let
you walk alongside of him without running back or showing timidity,
begin to teach him to lead: not by pulling him after you, or hunting
him forward, but by bringing him very _very_ gently round in a
half-circle--a plan which will oblige him to shift his foot and bend
his neck to your guidance. Take him both to right and left in this way,
encouraging and caressing him when he obeys you, and he will learn his
lesson in a wonderfully short space of time.
As soon as you find that he leads well in an enclosed place, take him
out into an extremely quiet paddock, not allowing anybody to come near
you while you do it. A good method will be to grasp the reins, close to
the jaw with your left hand, while your right catches the mane, and by
this means lead him gently out for an open-air spell of instruction.
Then proceed as when under cover, and repeat the lesson every day.
At eighteen months old a colt that has been bred on your own land
ought to have gone through _all_ the preliminaries of his education,
and at that age the dumb-jockey may be brought into use with a pair of
imitation legs and light little stirrups to hang on either side. Reins
formed partially of india-rubber should be passed through the terrets
and fastened to the bit, and these must not be drawn _by any means
tight_, lest the colt be induced to bear upon them--or lest he rear,
and fall backwards.
A quarter of an hour is the longest period that a lesson of this
description ought to occupy, and the pupil’s mouth should be well
wetted both before and after. If terror is excited, the utmost
encouragement should be given, and no harshness be for even an instant
resorted to.
These lessons may be continued, with slight variation, until the young
animal shall have entered his third year, at which epoch a very light
rider may be mounted on him, with rigid instructions not to interfere
in any way with the bridle, except as a means of guiding. In fact, to
prevent the possibility of his doing so to any mischievous degree, the
india-rubber reins may with advantage be continued; but the best way of
all will be to back the animal yourself: always provided that you are a
sufficiently light weight for the purpose.
When the saddle is first placed in position, the extremest gentleness
must be observed. Allow him, beforehand, to look at it, smell it, in
short satisfy himself about it, and then proceed to rub it softly down
his neck, pausing if he shows fear, and slipping it gradually backwards
until you quietly lift it into its place. When it is fairly on his
back, you should lift it again, and again replace it, and keep moving
it gently about in order to give him confidence, and when you have
induced him to stand quite still, fasten it with a _racing surcingle_
instead of an ordinary girth, as it is more readily adjusted, and need
not be drawn so tight.
To mount him successfully, place him so that the mounting-block shall
be just behind his shoulder; ascend the block with the utmost coolness
and quietness, and while standing on it proceed to pet your pupil,
stroking him, talking to him, and “gentling” him as though he were a
timid child. If he shows signs of alarm, go no further for a while, but
wait quietly--no matter how long it may be--even deferring the lesson
to another day, until he shall have gained complete confidence in your
instructions. Half the horses that refuse to stand to be mounted have
been rendered rider-shy (if I may coin a word) by scolding, and harsh
treatment shown them in their early training. No attempt should be
made at mounting a colt until he has become perfectly reconciled to his
trainer’s standing over him, and also to the pressure of a hand on the
saddle, and a foot passed in and out through the stirrup. To facilitate
his standing quiet, place his head to a wall,--or, if he must be held,
entrust the task to a steady quiet man, who will stand straight in
front of him, fondling his nose and ears, and who will when necessary
lay hold of the _cheeks_ of the bridle, _above_ the bit, but never of
the bit itself, nor yet of the reins.
Do not, when mounted, touch the animal with your heel to start him,
or attempt to meddle with his mouth in any hurried way. Speak to him
coaxingly, and draw one rein very gently, in order to make him shift
his leg and move--then walk him quietly about, repeating the lessons
in turning, stopping, and backing, which you have already given him
on foot If he shows restiveness, or an inclination to fight, slip off
_at once_, and proceed with the old method of instruction--because
you must not attempt to battle with him until you are quite certain
that you can conquer. This is one of the most important principles in
correct training, and one which, I regret to say, is most shamefully
overlooked. “I won’t let him conquer me,” says the ignorant breaker,
when the timid creature stands still and shivers, and refuses to do
what it has not yet learned to comprehend. Greater nonsense could not
possibly be spoken. There can be _no_ victory, for either horse or
man, until there has first been a battle, and if the man is wise he
will not begin one, lest he should fail to prove himself the master,
and the horse ever after refuse to obey his hand. Severity in training
is merely an ebullition of the breaker’s temper, and there is no
necessity for such when dealing with a creature that is really anxious
to learn and obey. Gentle indications will, in all save extreme cases,
accomplish tenfold more than brute force. Such, at all events, is my
conclusion, after very close and practical study of the subject in hand.
Leaping ought not, as a rule, to be taught until the animal has
attained its fourth year, nor ought the pupil to be mounted during the
lessons for the first three or four months that are devoted to them.
To lead in long reins, turning the colt in a nice quiet paddock that
has a low hedge or gorsed hurdle across the middle of it, will be the
proper method, and, as all young animals are imitative, it will be
a great advantage to have an old skilled horse taken over the jump
several times in easy fashion, in view of the youthful learner. I have
made youngsters jump brilliantly over hurdles that were raised by
degrees a great deal above their original height, by simply standing
on the off side of them with a measure of corn in my hand, and shaking
it temptingly, calling out cheerily at the same time, and always
plentifully rewarding my pupils when the boundary had been cleared.
This sort of teaching is only pleasant excitement for the colt; it
is not task-work; it injures neither structures nor temper, and is
unattended by either accident or risk. The training of horses, both
racers and hunters, as at present conducted, is conducive of many
evils, as is proved amply by the fact that one-half the animals that
come fresh from the trainers’ hands are debilitated by the wrong
systems pursued, and are far less capable of enduring exertion than
before they were taken in hand. The physicking, the brow-beating,
the harshness, scolding, and fighting, are one and all tremendously
pernicious and wrong. The vast majority of horses will, if properly
treated, accept their duties without force; and even the most viciously
inclined may be conquered, or at least subdued, without any approach to
brutality.
I may cite one case as a sample of many: an animal I once bought for
a song, and subsequently would not have sold for any money that could
have been offered. By telling you of the method by which I contrived
to cure him of his bad name, you may be guided how to act should any
similar occasion chance to arise in your own stable.
[Illustration: STRAP FOR OFF FORE-LEG.]
[Illustration: STRAP FOR NEAR FORE-LEG.]
By the aid of a powerful dose of physic--administered with extreme
difficulty, I confess, by a strong and resolute man--and aided by a
few light whiffs of chloroform, we succeeded in getting the horse so
sick and stupid that he suffered himself to be handled almost without
opposition. In fact, I could go up to his head, and stroke and fondle
it as though he had been the quietest animal alive. We then littered
a lofty shed with quite a foot deep of dung and straw (tan would,
however, have been better for the purpose), and having led him into
it we put on him a single-rein bridle, with a wooden gag-bit,--this
latter because he presently showed an inclination to bite. We then tied
up the reins quite close to the withers, put a breaking surcingle
on him, passed a soft strap round the near pastern joint, lifted up
the foot as though we were about to shoe him, and passing the strap
round over the fore-arm, buckled it firmly, but in such a way as not
to hurt the horse. I gentled him, as much as he would allow me, about
the head, while my assistant worked, and we then led him about the
shed for twenty minutes or more, on three legs, by which time he was
tired, but seemingly too dull to be much irritated. The next operation
was to place a second strap around the off fore-leg, draw it pretty
tight, and pass the long end of it through one of the rings sewn on
to the belly part of the surcingle. My helper then put a big strong
glove on his right hand, caught a firm hold of the strap, and when the
horse lifted his leg in an endeavour to hop, drew it gradually close,
and brought him gently upon his knees. Our object was to make him
lie down, for I never would countenance--under _any_ pretence, or
for any operation--the forcible casting of a horse with which I had
anything whatever to do. Finding that he was sullen and would not move,
I came to the near side of him, and drew his head gradually towards
me by one rein, speaking soothingly to him all the while; I then bade
my assistant go to his off side and bear against it, just behind the
shoulder, with a steady, even, close pressure--and after about twelve
minutes’ patient waiting, I had the joy of seeing him lie quietly down
upon the litter. So far my plan of subduing by gentleness had succeeded.
[Illustration: TAMING THE SHREW.
_page 302._]
The moment that he was fairly down I made his hind legs quite fast,
and then began my plan of taming. I gently stroked every one of his
limbs separately, rubbed his trembling head, pulled and fondled his
ears, unbuckled the bit for an instant and gave him _from my hand_
sliced carrots, lettuce, and I think an apple or two. He was in a
wretched state, poor beast! for want of care and grooming, so I got a
nice brush, and went caressingly over every part of his body with it,
talking to him as though he had been a frightened child. After an hour
or so we took off the straps, drew out his fore-legs, and encouraged
him to get up. He seemed very dazed when he did so, but was seemingly
quite subdued--and having given him a feed, we left him alone for the
night.[A]
Footnote A: The celebrated Mr. Rarey has been accredited with the
invention of this system, or something very nearly approaching it;
but so far back as half-a-century ago, Mr. Allen McDonogh, one of
the best and greatest of riders, trainers, and authorities, tried
it with success in his own training-stables, and subsequently (some
five or six years ago) taught it to me at Athgarvan Lodge, Curragh.
The next day we had another and worse scene to go through; the evil
spirit was not altogether gone out of the horse, as events very soon
showed us. We had to resort to the same strapping-up process, and when
he was on his knees he actually fought with us till he turned over;
but I encouraged him to get up again (in the same cramped position, of
course), and to make a second fight--treating him with steady firmness,
and never giving in for a moment, but striving all the time to quiet
him and make him lie down. He did so at length--from sheer exhaustion,
I believe--for his obstinacy and violence had lasted over an hour,
and I and my patience were alike almost worn out. When he was down I
scraped the sweat from him with a scraper, gave him water and lettuce,
went over every inch of his body with a wisp, and made my assistant
pretend to shoe him, by lifting each of his feet and tapping them
gently with a hammer. Finally I showed him a saddle and bridle, laid
them under his nose, and stroked him with them--and ended by actually
putting them on him with scarcely any difficulty at all. Then I shut
myself alone with him in the shed, and fed, petted, and talked to him
unceasingly for upwards of an hour, until all the untractableness had
seemingly gone out of his disposition. His poor wild, bloodshot eyes
grew calm and placid, and he actually rubbed his nose at last against
my hand. I am certain that I shall be accounted a terrible fool, but I
believe I wept for joy--and the best of it all was that I had gained my
victory without the horse having any suspicion that he was conquered.
If I had thrashed him into subjection--allowing that such a thing were
possible--he might have obeyed me for awhile, although hating me--but
by dint of never using a particle of harshness, and granting him _his
own time_ to make concessions, I am firmly convinced that he considered
himself the better animal of the two, and was magnanimous enough to
obey me from chivalrous motives, while believing that he need not do so
at all.
After that day I had not any trouble with my charge, and in less than a
week I was riding him about the place with only an ordinary bridle. He
subsequently manifested an extraordinary affection for me, and whether
the system that I pursued with regard to his taming was or was not one
of which ordinary horse-owners will be found to approve, I can only say
that it succeeded to perfection, and that I have seen it tried twice or
thrice since, on my recommendation, with excellent results; but I never
advise the adoption of it, except in cases such as I have described,
where an animal has been rendered vicious by extreme bad treatment, or
has inherited a disposition for sullenness and obstinacy which cannot
otherwise be brought under control.
Before bringing this chapter to a close, I would wish to add that
a colt in his fifth year may be ridden once or twice a week with
harriers, or once with foxhounds, if the meet be very near his
stable--but he must never on any account be _pressed_, or run to the
end of his tether, for it is an absolute fact that if a young animal is
once suffered to find out for himself that he is beaten, he will never
_while he lives_ get to the close of a long or trying run. This may, by
some, be regarded as a fallacy, but many practical authorities will, I
think, endorse what I say.
[Illustration]