_private stables_ horses worth $500 or $1000 for $100 or $200 are the
pirates of the trade. They give one excuse or another why such immense
bargains are offered, and they make many sales. They are really
“confidence-men,” and why the police authorities should permit them to
continue in their thieving operations is one of the mysterious
manifestations of city life that I could never understand. It was from
one of these rogues that the college professor I just mentioned bought
his prize pair. Never on any account look for or even at any of these
advertised bargains in a _private stable_. A good horse has a market
value and a dealer knows it thoroughly. When he offers to sell below
that value, you may depend upon it that he is trying to cheat you by
imposing upon your ignorance. Having determined what kind of a horse you
want, and what kind of work you purpose doing with a horse, go to a
dealer and tell him all about it just as you would to your lawyer or
doctor. He will show you horses and quote prices. If the prices are
higher than you care to pay tell him that also, and he will show you
others. He usually begins with the higher-priced horses, unless he
“sizes you up” as lean of pocket-book. But in a large establishment the
price you have fixed in your own mind is likely to be arrived at very
quickly. Then you must determine whether the horse shown to you is of
the quality you desire. But be not deceived by the hope that you can get
a very superior and well-trained horse for very much less than he is
worth. This can often be done with green horses. By green horses, I do
not mean unbroken horses, but horses that have not been educated and
developed. A skilful horseman, either rider or driver, will nearly
always prefer a green horse because of the pleasure in training him, and
also of the chance of securing a prize at a minimum of cost. But an
inexperienced horseman will probably never make anything out of a green
horse, so he had best not consider such. Having found a horse that seems
to meet requirements, the horse should be tried and the reputable dealer
will give the buyer every opportunity for such a trial. When the trial
is satisfactory, the buyer should have him examined by a veterinary, and
if sound the transaction should be closed. Warranties are not of much
good. They cannot be enforced except through suits at law; and a lawsuit
even when won would usually cost more than the loss on an unsatisfactory
horse, if the horse were sent to the auction block immediately. Then try
again. To buy one bad horse is no reason whatever for discouragement.
One of the Tattersalls said that to have one good horse in a lifetime is
as much as a man should expect.
The splendid specimens that we see in the show rings inspire us with the
desire to have one or several of these, and as each show is followed by
a sale there is our easy opportunity. But I am persuaded that to one not
himself a horse-show exhibitor nothing is more unwise than to buy a
horse-show winner. These horses are most highly keyed up and trained by
most skilful hands. In the hands of one less skilful they rapidly
deteriorate and in the ordinary park and road work they lose a major
part of that style which originally inspired the purchase. This skill in
handling has made itself so manifest that even in the horse shows the
managers have been obliged to exclude the dealers from many of the
classes. There are professional horse-show exhibitors notwithstanding
this exclusion of the dealers, and their horses are probably more unsafe
to buy than those of the dealers themselves. No, the horse-show horse is
for the horse-show exhibitor.
Another discouraging thing about one’s first horses is the illnesses
which they contract. As frequently as not this is due to the
inexperience of the new owner, or to the change of home and climate.
Dealers buying horses frequently have the animals inoculated against
cold and fever—shipper’s fever, it is called. This should always be done
as the result has been found to be most excellent. “You can get no use
out of a Kentucky horse for the first year,” I have heard New Yorkers
say. That may have been their experience; but when treated with the
proper serum before shipment they do not suffer to any extent with colds
and influenza. There is one disease, however, that I do not know how to
provide against—nostalgia. The generality of horses are not very
affectionate, for they are not very intelligent, being trained more by
fear than anything else and going on in their work through custom. But
they do love their homes, and that they should suffer from home-sickness
until the satisfaction with the new environment wipes out the longing is
inevitable. The homing instinct of a horse is very strong and also
interesting. Take a horse ten or even twenty miles in a direction never
traveled before, and then turn him towards home over a new route, and he
knows it instantly and shows that he knows it by a quickened gait and a
renewal of spirit. So these things should be taken into consideration
with a new horse, and due allowance made for them.
A man who has an establishment and keeps many horses has one very
difficult problem. It is customary for the coachman to get commissions,
whether the coachman has been consulted in the purchase or not. The
dealers understand this, and add to the price of the horse what will
have to be paid to the coachman. I have had dealers ask me plainly
whether I kept a coachman to settle with. And once when I sold a horse
to a distinguished professional man in New York, he sent a check for $50
more than the agreed price, asking that that sum be given to the
coachman as he did not want the horse lamed or put out of condition.
This is a stable tradition that we have borrowed from England, and is a
tyranny that should be suppressed not only by law but by custom. I sold
a horse recently to a gentleman at a price not at all above his value.
His negro coachman called at my house for his commission. I sent him
away in short order and at once wrote his master a note telling of the
visit and its object, and requesting him to pay his own servants.
If a man have leisure for travel, the breeding farm is a good place to
purchase a horse. At most of these farms the horses are green, but at
some they are thoroughly trained before being offered for sale. But none
of these horses are accustomed to the fearsome sights and sounds of the
city. So I should advise none but skilful horsemen to go to the farms to
make purchases.
But the wisest course that an amateur can pursue is to take a loss
quickly. Just as soon as you find that you do not want a horse, sell
him. If there be a purchaser ready at hand, well and good; if not there
is sure to be an auction block not far away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE STABLE AND ITS MANAGEMENT
Badly-constructed, badly-kept, and badly-managed stables are the
contributing causes to most of the illnesses that horses suffer from. As
nine stables out of ten in America are bad in all these three regards, I
am confirmed in the belief that horses are very hardy animals instead of
the delicate creatures that we sometimes think they are. That so many of
them should be equal to hard and continuous work considering the
conditions that surround them when they are at home is really quite
remarkable. Even on breeding farms, where it is the business of the
proprietors to rear fine animals for sale, the stables more frequently
than not are wretched barns not fit even for the lodgement of mules.
This is the case in Kentucky, even in the Blue Grass region. In many of
the stables there I have seen tons of manure, that were most valuable
for fertilization, left in the stables for no other reason that I could
fathom than that it seemed to be no one’s business to take it away. “Why
don’t you spread it on the pastures, or use it on the ploughed fields?”
I asked one gentleman. “Oh, the ground does not need it,” he replied. I
did not like to go any further for fear of seeming intrusive. Then again
I did not believe that a man who thought tilled ground even in the
limestone enriched land of the Blue Grass section would not be better
for stable manure would bother particularly about the advantages of
keeping stables clean.
Stables should be light not dark. There is a notion as old as the hills
that a stable should be a dark and somber place. There are those who
still hold stoutly to this view. Why a stable should be dark and the
living room of a human being light, I cannot conceive. Light and air are
the great purifying agents. Germs of various kinds multiply mightily in
the dark, while many are killed by the light. The only reason that is
given for a dark stable is that constant light in a horse’s eyes is
likely to injure his organs of sight. I grant that cheerfully. Still
there is no reason why there should not be light without the light
shining directly into the eyes of the horses. It is as easy as possible
to place the windows above the heads of the horses, and even to shield
them with shutters that open upwards, shutters such as are so generally
used on seaside cottages.
Ventilation is most important. This should always be provided for,
however, so that in securing it there will not also be draughts either
on the body or the legs of a horse. To accomplish this is not difficult
even in the stables of the dry-goods-box pattern. The one supreme
affection of a horse is for his home, and it is as little as an owner
can do to make that home comfortable. Cleanliness is an imperative
necessity. Without it the other things go for naught. There is no good
reason why a stable should not be as clean as any other part of a
gentleman’s establishment. And yet this is so seldom the case that a man
who has visited a stable often brings with him to his house odors that
are unmistakable and entirely objectionable to the sensitive olfactories
of the more delicate members of his household. This cleanliness can only
be secured by unremitting good housekeeping. The stable should not only
be cleaned very thoroughly once a week, but it should be kept clean the
other six days in the week. Any owner, no matter whether he be a good
horseman or not, can see to this. He may not know the nice points in
harnessing a horse or even the points of a horse, but his eyes and his
nose can tell him whether his stable is clean. The droppings should be
removed as soon as they are discovered, and they should not be piled up
in the stable or against one of the walls of the stable on the outside,
but removed to a distance, if in the country and treated for
fertilizers; in a city stable they should be removed daily. This latter
can be done without any expense to the owner, as there are manure
collectors only too glad to cart it away.
Drainage is also most important, but it should always be surface
drainage. Pipes beneath the floor are always getting clogged up, and
hence becoming foul. Besides plumbing everywhere is expensive and
bothersome. There should be as little as possible of it in a stable. Of
course running water is most desirable if not necessary. But it should
be restricted to two hydrants, one for carriage washing and one for
drinking water. The surface drainage can be got rid of by having the
floor of the stable a little bit elevated above the surrounding ground.
Where the stable can be located so that there is declining ground on one
side other than the exit, there is natural drainage which is a great
advantage. The stalls also should have a very slight incline, so that
they will keep dry naturally. This stall inclination, however, should be
very slight, as it is desirable that a horse should have all his feet
pretty nearly on the same level.
Box-stalls or not? This is a disputed matter. Some owners have only
box-stalls in their stables; some none at all. In my opinion both ideas
are wrong. Cutting up a stable into a series of boxes does not
facilitate drainage, ventilation, light, or cleanliness. Then again it
is doubtful whether a horse in a loose box-stall does not often acquire
habits of independence that are sometimes uncomfortable and dangerous.
In a stall a horse is tied, he is also more easily observed and
therefore always under control. Box-stalls, however, are excellent for a
horse that comes in very tired, or for one that is sick. So I should
advise that in every stable there be one or two box-stalls, but that as
a general thing the horses be kept in ordinary stalls. These stalls
should be 9 feet long and 5 feet wide. A wider stall makes it easier for
a horse to get cast. The ceiling of a stable should not be less than 12
feet.[10]
Footnote 10:
A carpenter in my neighborhood once asked me to select a horse for him
from a drove that was on sale in the village. I picked out a large
fine fellow, and the carpenter bought him. The next day I saw him with
another horse. “Why, where is the roan?” I asked. “Oh, I had to take
him back, he was too big for the stable!” “Why the dickens did you not
make the stable bigger?” was my comment to the carpenter.
Every stable should be kept cool in summer and warm in winter. But
artificial heat should never be used, as it is in some of the sumptuous
stables of the over-rich in the large cities. A horse does his work in
the open, and there is no sense in pampering him. In very cold weather
the stable should be kept as warm as is possible without stoves or
steam-pipes, and the horse made comfortable with good blankets and
plenty of straw for his bedding. In the summer when the thermometers are
trying to climb to a hundred in the shade, then the shutters should be
regulated so as to keep out the direct rays on the sunny side, and other
windows and doors be left open.
Harness room and coach room depend almost entirely on the size of the
establishment that is kept. Both, however, should be light—then both can
be seen without difficulty by the owner when he makes inspections. These
inspections, by the way, should not be made at stated times, but at any
time. An owner who expects his horses to be kept in good condition and
turned out with proper harness to proper traps must take an interest in
his stable and be on good terms with his servants. There is no
suggestion of familiarity in this, but only the good understanding and
the good feeling that always exists between that master and man, when
the one gives and other gets good service.
A well-groomed horse is so fine a thing that we have latterly applied
the term to fine men and beautiful women. The grooming of a horse is an
art, which is not practised on more than one or two per cent of the
horses at work in the United States. The others are _cleaned_ in a
happy-go-lucky fashion, which makes them neither clean nor beautiful.
This is not as it should be; a horse that is compelled to give service
to a man is entitled to good attention. An ungroomed or improperly
groomed horse has an offensive odor. This does not conduce to the
pleasure of a person using such a horse nor to the well being of the
horse himself. In grooming a horse the brush and cloth alone are needed.
A currycomb—once universally used—should never be put on a horse. It
serves a good purpose, however, in cleaning the brush. And that is its
only service. Where an owner knows or suspects that the currycomb is
used directly on the horse it is better to banish it entirely. When a
horse has been put away covered with sweat and the sweat allowed to dry,
it is very much easier to remove this salty deposit with a currycomb
than with a brush. But a horse should never be put away without being
thoroughly groomed except when he comes in so tired that the grooming
would further fatigue him. This is sometimes the case. When it is so the
horse should have quite loosely-wrapped bandages put on his legs, he
should be well blanketed, given a swallow of water and turned into a
box-stall knee deep in straw. Then when this horse is rested enough to
be groomed, the mud on his legs will have become caked and will come off
by using the hand and a wisp of straw, the polishing being finished with
the brush and cloth. The dried sweat should be removed in the same way.
When a muddy horse comes into the stable it is a great temptation to
play the hose on his legs, and so wash the mud off. This should never be
done. The only places where water should be applied to a horse are the
feet and the other hairless portions. These should be washed with a
sponge. The washing of a horse’s feet before he is put away is most
important. “No foot, no horse” is the old English rule. And it is as
true as gospel. The feet should always be kept clean in the stable, and
at night they should be packed with sponge or felt. The foot of a horse
is an important part of him, and every owner should see that they are
well looked after. And in accomplishing this he will not find it an easy
job, for a horse has to have his shoes changed every three or four
weeks, and if the feet be not ruined by the farrier or the fads of his
groom or coachman then he is lucky. Every man that has anything to do
with horses sooner or later develops notions as to horseshoeing, the
blacksmith usually knowing much less than any one else but confident
that he knows it all. He should know it all, as to shoe horses is his
business. As a matter of fact, however, his practice, if he be permitted
to have his own sweet will, is to lame horses and ruin their feet. There
are a few good horse-shoers, however, and if an owner find one in his
neighborhood he is lucky. I shall not attempt, however, to write a
treatise on horseshoeing. There are books in abundance on the subject,
and any man who wishes to become an accomplished amateur on the subject
can find plenty to study and also an abundance of instruction. But there
are a few principles that dominate all else. The shoe should be neither
too large nor too small. A large shoe stretches the hoof too much, a
small shoe pinches the hoof and makes corns. Then do not permit the
blacksmith to pare the sole and frog of the foot or rasp or burn the
hoof to make it fit the shoe he has selected. The shoe should be made to
fit the hoof, and as few nails used as is consistent with security. As
the hoof is growing all the time, just as a man’s finger-nails grow, the
shoes need often to be changed so that they will not be too small and so
contract the hoof. The ideal horse is the barefoot horse, but this is
not possible when a horse is used on pavements or hard roads. Then the
shoe should not be too heavy. Heavy shoes merely make a horse’s work
very much harder.
The feeding and watering of a horse are most important. The horse can
carry only a little food, as his stomach is small compared with his size
and his need of nourishment. But he can drink a good deal of water. He
should have both food and water equal to his needs. He should always be
fed three times a day, and he would not be the worse if he were treated
as the Germans treat themselves, with four meals a day. Moreover, a
horse’s food should be varied a little. Oats and hay three times a day
for three hundred and sixty-five days in the year may suffice, but it
seems to me very like a cruelty when it is so easy to vary the food with
barley, beans, pease, corn, turnips, and many other things easy to
obtain and not at all expensive. A little nibble of fresh grass
occasionally is also a grateful change, but not much of this should be
given when a horse is doing steady work. The allowance of oats in the
United States army is ten quarts a day. This with plenty of hay is a
good allowance and will keep a horse in good condition, but a hearty
eater can make way with twelve quarts a day and be all the better for
it. The hay should not be fed from a rack over the manger, but from the
ground. When carrots are fed they should be sliced; whole they might
choke a horse. When corn is fed it should be given on the cob. In this
way the horse improves his teeth and helps his gums, while he is obliged
to feed slowly.
A horse should be watered before eating, and the last thing at night
before the stable is closed. And when the horse comes in tired he should
be given a mouthful of water, even before he is permitted to drink his
fill. I have seen stables where there was running water in a trough in
each stall. I do not recommend this, nor yet a common drinking-place for
all the horses in a stable. A bucket filled from a hydrant and held up
to the horse is the best way. A horse needs salt. The best way to give
it to him is to put a crystal of rock salt in his trough and let it
remain there. He will then take it when he pleases, and not too much at
a time.
One man cannot properly look after an unlimited number of horses. If the
stableman does no driving he can look after four together with the
vehicles and harness. If he has to go out with the carriages he cannot
manage more than three. Without a proper, sober, and sensible stableman,
a gentleman can never have any satisfaction out of his horses. They are
hard to get, but there are such. If a man be an accomplished horseman he
can train his own servants, and be pretty sure of _nearly_ always being
well served. If he know nothing himself he will have to use his own
intelligence and learn. In case he will not do this he had better not
keep horses. Saddles should be dried in the sun when it is possible.
Stirrups and bits should be cleaned at once as it is much easier to
prevent rust than remove it. The same rule should apply to all harness
and to carriages. The best results will never be obtained unless the
grooms be given ample time to harness or saddle a horse. Sometimes, of
course, in cases of emergency this has to be done “on the jump,” but
generally speaking the groom should be given time to do his work with
calm carefulness.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
RIDING AND DRIVING
All of us have heard of natural riders. It must be that when any one
with knowledge of the art of riding speaks in this way that he means to
say that the individuals alluded to had a great natural capacity to
acquire the art of riding, for riding is an art and does not come to any
one except through practice, instruction, and imitation. Some persons
can acquire a foreign tongue with what seems an easy facility—while
others of equal mentality—have the greatest difficulty and never succeed
in any eminent degree. Those to whom the acquirement of foreign tongues
is easy have a gift for languages, just as some others have a gift for
mathematics or for rhyming or for drawing. And so it is in Equitation.
To some riding comes easily, to others it is difficult, while some
others seem absolutely incapable of acquiring a good seat, good hands,
and that knowledge of horse nature which complete the equipment of every
expert in the art. I confess that I do not know much about riding
schools, nor indeed that I have seen much of them. When I was a boy in
Kentucky there were no riding schools there, and I am not at all sure
that there have ever been. And yet so competent a judge and careful an
observer as Mr. Edward L. Anderson has expressed the opinion that the
Kentuckians are the best riders in America.