FOOD--THE FITTEST TIME FOR FEEDING, AND THE KIND OF FOOD WHICH THE
HORSE NATURALLY CONSUMES.
The folly of perversity or the madness of abuse can imagine no possible
wrong that the human race have not inflicted upon the creature to which
civilization owes its heaviest obligations. The horse, which more
than shares in mortal toil, is forced to work before its bones are
matured. When strained and deformed by the severity of labor, it is
sworn at and lashed because its body shares, with all things on this
earth, the perishableness which is inseparable from mortal existence.
It is created to enjoy the freest breezes of the plain; but, by the
superior power which has domesticated, the type of activity is doomed
to stand, throughout life, within the narrow confines of a stall. It is
the emblem of timidity; yet it is driven into every species of peril.
Nature endowed it with fleetness, and formed it to delight in action;
but mankind expect it to exhibit health during years of inactivity, and
think its limbs should not become stiff from incessant lack of motion.
Its food grows abundantly on the surface of earth; every fresh mouthful
necessitates an additional step; for the animal, when free, walks
as it eats, and lowers the head, to collect its sustenance from the
ground. Mankind imprisons the poor life; the hay is placed level with
the ears, and the corn is given even with the chest of the animal.
Nay, the very groom, when he permits water to be imbibed, raises the
pail, resting its edge upon his knee. Nature enabled the horse to feed
by night,--when the air is cool; when all is quiet; when the grass is
moist, and when the flies are not abroad: then the emblem of concord
pastures in peacefulness. The stabled horse is allowed to eat only by
day. Though intended to be watchful, horse masters insist the wakeful
quadruped should accept twelve hours of repose; and they lock the
stable door, that its imaginary slumbers may be undisturbed.
The sufferer wears clothes only while under shelter. During summer it
always retains its coat; but, as frost and snow approach, the covering
which nature sent to conserve the body’s warmth human wisdom either
clips or singes away, dooming the native of a sunny clime to shiver
in the blast of a northern winter. Man knows that heat benefits his
slave; yet the horse only feels it as the product of impurity; so that,
either it must suffer from the lowness of temperature, or it must
languish from the inhalation of a tainted atmosphere.
The summit of wrong, however, seems to be attained, when we consider
the food which the companion of man is condemned to consume within the
walls of its dungeon. The corn is gathered after it has become ripe,
or after all moisture has ceased to circulate within the grain; and
even then it must be hardened and further dried by age before it is
cast into the manger. The juicy herbage of the field--the soft verdure
of the earth--is the natural support of the creature. Nevertheless,
man presents grass to his captive only after the wind and the sun have
expelled moisture from the stems; and after fermentation in the stack
often has parched the blades till these crumble beneath the touch.
When time has accomplished the hardening which human perversity regards
as most essential toward maintaining the health of a horse; when
both corn and hay have been transformed into stubborn and unyielding
substances; at the age when the first will rattle harshly on being
shaken in the sieve, and the last grate audibly when moved by the
fork,--then, only then, is either placed before the quadruped. Such
provision the prisoner must consume or starve. Hunger is the hardest of
all task-masters. The dumb being cannot tell of the agony occasioned by
man’s forcing its organs of mastication to uses which will wear down
the hardest and coarsest of stones; it cannot portray the torment of
thirst, begotten by the long pulverization of matter rendered tough
and dry by artificial processes; it cannot describe the agony produced
by the grating of such nutriment upon the tender membrane of the
stomach; nor can it announce those cruel diseases which afflict the
sufferer,--each being engendered by mistaken treatment, against which
the afflicted is powerless to appeal.
That which the mouth was designed to prepare, the stomach was intended
to appropriate. Moist food is most enjoyed by the horse, and moisture
is likewise imperative for the completion of digestion. Upon the
accomplishment of this process health and life are dependent. There is
no part of the frame which is endowed with an independent existence.
By that which the root absorbs, the remotest twig is nourished. The
feet or the limbs may fail; man may term such a failure a misfortune,
or speak of it as an accident; but the weakness of the body is the
primary necessity of almost all such occurrences. The trunk must bend
before the vigor of inflammation can be displayed; and health must have
departed before the presence of disease is possible.
“Nonsense! folly! downright stupidity!” some sporting reader may
exclaim. “Look at all men, when in training. Do not they, during such
time, live upon _dry food_?” Certainly not. Not upon food “_dry_” in
the same sense as is implied by the sound hay and seasoned oats of the
stable. Bread, seen upon any human table, whether as loaf or biscuit,
is a moist substance, when compared with either of the articles on
which horses subsist. But what shall be said about the contents of the
rack or the manger, when compared with the under-done rump steak of
which man, when in training, so frequently partakes?
Nor is the subject fairly reviewed, when the form of food is alone
considered. The horse does not graze without selection. Certain herbs
are scrupulously avoided; others are eagerly sought for. The animal
does not eat straight before it; but the head moves to either side,
each mouthful being carefully collected with the lips before the juicy
tops of the plants are operated upon by the teeth. The horse feeds
only off the growing ends of the grasses. The varying herbage may be
supposed to present numerous savors to the keen scent of the pasturer;
and a fresh flavor may be relished with each new mouthful. Nature has
evidently scattered variety, where the dull sense of man can perceive
only sameness; and, to the temperate palate of a horse, the verdure of
the fields may afford a delicious and an ever-varying banquet.
The instinct which enables the animal to make a selection among
numberless growing plants, fades and is lost when moisture has
departed with the color, and the perfume natural to the herbage has
been changed by art. The animal perceptions may be puzzled; for art
can defeat instinct. Some quadrupeds, as if much perplexed, will pick
the hay, eating little, but spoiling more than is consumed. Others
appear to distaste the preparation, and these refuse it altogether. Few
inhabitants of the stable will accept all that may be placed before
them, though the rejection may depend more upon the fastidiousness
begotten by captivity, than be generated by positive dislike. Few
animals exhibit either choice or discretion in the selection of certain
portions of prepared fodder. The rejection of particular parts seems to
be guided only by fancy or caprice. That which in the green state would
be abhorred, when “cut and dried” may by preference be devoured.
We can reasonably conclude that the impulses of instinct, being natural
instructors, convey wise admonitions. Many people are so credulous as
to believe that the Creator is all-wise, and that nothing formed by
the will of Omnipotence is without a special purpose. It is man who
converts grass into hay; thus rendering nugatory that discrimination
which was bestowed as a protection upon the lower life.
Some persons may feel disposed to assert that all power to injure is
also lost, when the natural odor of prepared herbage has been changed;
they may argue that what was injurious, with the scent has also lost
the characteristic capability to harm. Does chemistry uphold such a
conclusion? The dried and powdered herbs of the Pharmacopœia point to
an opposite inference. Experience and experiment warrant a contrary
judgment. The yew-tree is an active poison to the horse. Gardeners
annually clip the compact hedges of yew, which too frequently surround
and shelter country lawns. The twigs often fall into fields where
horses are pastured. While the cuttings remain green, the animals
recognize the poisonous nature and refuse to partake of the fallen
leaves. But let exposure dry the refuse, and the grasses of the meadow
are deserted, to devour that which was previously avoided. The poison,
however, has not evaporated with moisture. The odor, by which danger
was recognized, alone has been lost; but the deadly nature seems to
be more concentrated: or the issue may be rendered speedier by the
lessened bulk of the dried vegetable, and the greater amount of it
which therefore can be swallowed.
Apply the above illustration, and, guided by its teaching, say how
far man is justified in presenting the wholesale gathering of a field
to a hungry horse. It is true, we know of no injury being produced by
hay. But we know that the stable, as at present managed, is far from
a healthful abode. We are certain, instinct was not created without a
purpose; and we have seen that the vegetable, which is avoided when
fresh, is not rendered powerless by its moisture being expelled.
Therefore, guided by such monitors, we can do no wrong by endeavoring
to render hay a wholesome food. None of the grasses are positively
poisonous; but the animal prefers those which have a crisp and clean
appearance. Soft or woolly provender is never relished. It were an easy
labor for a youth to select the good from the bad; while doing this,
the boy might be instructed to reject all and everything which was not
the fitting kind of grass. The cost of such a process would be very
trifling, and the welfare of the animal might soon repay all extra
outlay.
However, few, very few people know how to tell a good from a bad sample
of hay. Vast quantities of that which no proprietor should oblige
his imprisoned slaves to consume, are daily sold; some persons even
prefer particular kinds of produce; while others, urged by parsimony,
will purchase only damaged hay. There should be, however, in this
substance little room for the exercise of choice or of discretion. The
characteristics of good hay are very marked, and such only should be
purchased by the careful horse owner.
It is the intention of the author to offer some remarks upon this
simple but excessively important topic. The comments will be
accompanied with tinted wood engravings, which will help the judgment,
though these cannot inform the reader on every particular. Therefore,
he must kindly assist the writer, as few things are more difficult to
describe than taste or smell; since these senses are always under the
control of individual predilection.
[Illustration: LAD SORTING HAY.]
=Upland Hay= should look clean. Every fiber should appear distinct.
The color should be bright and should convey an idea of newness. No
dust ought to be present; neither should the sample, however much it
may have been disturbed, lose its prominent features. The constituents
will all point pretty much in one direction. Of course this order is
not so absolute as to appear like arrangement, but the confusion which
generally marks the fibers of the after-meath is never present in a
fair sample of well-carried “Upland hay.” The scent is commonly very
pleasant--not so strong as, but in other respects little different
from, the perfume of new-mown hay: to most people its odor is highly
agreeable. Weeds should not be abundant; but the presence of foreign
growths is clearly indicated by their darker hue, by the browner tint,
and the fuller form. The stems should not have shed the seeds, though
grasses vary so much in the period of their ripening that it is vain to
expect some will not have broken this rule. When a portion is placed
within the mouth and is masticated, it rather communicates a mild
and pleasant flavor than yields a strong or pungent taste. In short,
cleanness and delicacy are the prominent characteristics of “Upland
hay;” which some growers imagine is scarcely injured by long keeping.
New hay is certainly objectionable. But the year’s growth is wholesome
feed by November; and, in the author’s judgment, it is best when it
first comes into use.
[Illustration: THE CHARACTER AND THE COLOR OF UPLAND HAY.]
=Lowland Hay.=--This kind of preserved grass lacks the bright color,
being more tawny than the preceding; indeed, the absence of the
green tint is conspicuous, and can hardly fail to be remarked. The
arrangement of the fibers is not so well preserved, neither is the
crispness or the newness of aspect, for which “Upland hay” is notable,
to be remarked in the “Lowland truss.” The flowering heads to the stems
are all but absent. When felt, it communicates a sense of softness.
If rattled, no brisk sound is elicited. It has a stronger and a more
pungent perfume. The odor is very far from being so delicate; neither
is the taste characterized by any pleasantness of flavor. When placed
between the teeth, mastication communicates a sense of softness and
toughness: the taste is coarse, almost disagreeable: at first it is
vapid, though after a short space a certain amount of pungency is
developed. The woolly texture; the want of boldness in the component
parts; their comparative smallness; with the washed-out aspect of the
whole, and the confusion of the mass, should prevent a novice even from
accepting “Lowland” for “Upland hay.”
[Illustration: THE CHARACTER AND THE COLOR OF LOWLAND HAY.]
=Rowen= or =After-meath= presents a greater confusion than even
“Lowland hay.” The softness is more conspicuous; flowering heads are
only occasionally met with; the stems are few in number, are small
in point of size, and form no prominent feature of the whole. This
species of fodder lacks perfume altogether; but, as regards color, it
may have a slight greenish tint clinging faintly to it. Still, by its
want of the brisk or the healthy aspect, and by its darker hue, it
is at once recognized for the thing it is,--an unseasonable produce,
reaped late in the year, and got up long after the freshness of spring
had departed. To the mouth it imparts a strong and slightly bitter
taste. The odor is not objectionable, although it does not approach to
a perfume. Horses which have been accustomed to the better sort, refuse
Rowen, or only accept it after actual hunger has been experienced.
[Illustration: A VERY FAIR SAMPLE OF ROWEN OR OF AFTER-MEATH.]
[Illustration: A SPECIMEN OF THE FIRST CROP OF CLOVER HAY.]
=Clover Hay= is universally mixed with grass and weeds. A good sample
of this produce, a novice might easily reject as being too foul a
specimen for his approval, and the hay of the second crop (which is not
generally remarkable in that particular) be selected in preference.
The stems also appear to bear a large proportion to the whole, when
compared with the flowers and the leaves. The fact of the stalks being
rarely viewed in the clover field may render this feature the more
conspicuous. But the stems are hollow, and consequently lose little
bulk when dried. The flowers and leaves, on the contrary, are juicy;
and no insignificant portion of their substance is, apparently, lost
during evaporation. In the first cut of clover, however, the stems,
though numerous, are comparatively fine, and the leaves, though dark,
have no tinge of blackness. The flowers are abundant, and faded, of
course; but they still retain indications of their original color.
Though compressed, they nevertheless suggest what has once been their
figure. In taste, a marked resemblance is recognized between the slight
flavor of the hay and the strong aroma of the growing plant.
[Illustration: THE SECOND CROP OR AFTER-MEATH OF CLOVER.]
=The Second Crop of Clover= is distinguished by the grasses and weeds
of the first cut being all but absent. The stems are larger, firmer,
and bear a greater proportion to the whole. The flowers are not so
numerous, and are more dingy in appearance, as well as apparently
less carefully preserved. Mastication also enables to be recognized
a coarser and a stronger flavor than characterizes good hay of the
spring’s harvest. The leaves approach near to a black tint. When a
truss of the first and one of the second crop of clover are placed
together, the last appears remarkable for depth of color.
[Illustration: A VERY EXCELLENT SAMPLE OF HEATED HAY.]
=Heated= or =Mow-burnt Hay= is that which has been subjected to such
uncontrolled fermentation as shall scorch the substance, and, if
not checked, would ultimately fire the stack. A certain amount of
fermentation is needful for the development of sound hay, but should
the necessary action be suffered to proceed too far, “heated or
mow-burnt hay” is the result. Most horses will eat this kind of fodder
with appetite when it is first presented; but after the novelty of
the diet has subsided, there are few animals which do not apparently
loathe such produce. The illustration by no means represents the worst
specimen which the author has encountered, but it is of that medium
character which best conveys a just idea of a general subject. From
this sample, however, certain leaves could be chosen that are perfectly
black, and which, when attempted to be rolled between the fingers,
would crumble into powder. Such a peculiarity, together with the
darkened hue, affords the easiest means of recognizing this provender,
which, although some silly people by preference employ in their
stables, is very far from being a wholesome food for horses. Burnt
vegetable matter produces potash; therefore there can be no cause to
reject, as a groundless prejudice, the assertion that much “mow-burnt
hay” will occasion diabetes. It has a powerful odor, resembling the
mixed smell which pervades a public hay market; but the taste has
little to distinguish it, being somewhat vapid.
[Illustration: WEATHER-BEATEN HAY.]
=Weather-beaten Hay= is equally devoid of smell or of taste. It has a
ragged, a confused, and a broken aspect. The hue is deepened; but the
color greatly depends upon the period of its exposure, the soil on
which it has lain, the amount of wet to which it has been subjected,
and the condition in which it has been “got up.” So delicate a produce
as carefully prepared hay, of course cannot be long exposed to the
effects of wind and rain without its more choice qualities being
deteriorated, while to the extent of its deterioration, of course
the farmer can oppose no check. Therefore a fair general specimen,
exhibiting the common characteristics of the majority of samples,
is submitted to the reader; but it cannot be expected that a single
illustration should embody the multiform aspects which are generated by
diverse and powerful influences acting upon a perishable substance.
=Musty Hay= is readily recognized by its strong and peculiar smell,
resembling the refuse which has been employed to stuff articles of
cheap furniture. This it likewise calls to mind by its rumpled and
confused appearance. It should never be offered to any animal as a
substitute even for better food.
“Upland Hay,” as will be seen by the foregoing remarks, is a fair
general fodder for the horse. To it, however, a portion of clover hay
should be added; but this last is best given in the form of chaff.
Ready-cut chaff should never be purchased, because most persons have
extraordinary notions as to the ingredients suited for such a form of
provender. Hay, which the animal refuses to touch when placed in the
rack, is often salted and cut into chaff. Thus seasoned, and in such
a shape being mixed with corn, it may be eaten. The horse is imposed
upon by the salt and the oats which were mingled with the trash; but
the sane proprietor has only to calmly inquire of himself--whether
that savor which disguises the taste can also change an unwholesome
substance into a wholesome nutriment?
It is likewise a prevailing custom to cut straws of different kinds and
to throw the rubbish into the chaff bin. Such a practice is spoken of
as among the improvements of modern horse-feeding. The quadruped may
consume this species of refuse, but it is, in the author’s judgment,
not a matter for doubt whether such articles merely distend the stomach
or whether they can nourish the body. People who advocate cheapness may
be favorable to the use of straw; but these persons should not deceive
themselves, far less ought they to impose upon others, by asserting so
exhausted a material can possibly prove a supporting constituent of
diet.
Within the stem of the ripened wheat plant no sap circulates. All the
strength of the growth has gone to the seed. Were not the sapless
stalk cut and preserved by man, it would shortly topple over, and, by
decay, be mingled with the soil. It is well understood that grass,
after it has shed its seed, is unsuited for making a nutritious hay.
Grain-yielding plants are only cultivated grasses; and the art which
has enlarged the seed and lengthened the stem cannot pretend also to
have mastered the laws of nature by having endowed a refuse material
with nutritious properties. Persons who desire to have straw mingled
with the manger food of the horse, should take some pains to procure
articles rightfully prepared. The plants should be mown while green;
be properly treated, stacked, and husbanded with more than the care
usually bestowed on ordinary stems. The same rule should be observed
with regard to bean stalks, or whatever else is to be severed into
lengths, and is to be esteemed a fitting food for the horse.
Thus prepared, the wheat stem might prove worthy the repute which is
at present bestowed upon its exhausted representative. When harvested
after this plan, the stalk would retain all that virtue which, at a
later season, is expended upon the seed. It would nourish as well as
distend. Indeed, the popular custom of giving horses that for food
which adds to the bulk of provender, but does not support the system,
cannot be too strongly reprobated; yet such a practice is followed
in the great majority of existing stables. The animals, to satisfy
the cravings of appetite, are compelled to devour more than their
diminutive stomachs should contain. Over-gorging is likewise promoted
by the habit of subjecting all kinds of horses to prolonged and
unnatural periods of abstinence. The consequences of such customs are
exemplified in the attenuated stomachs of most old subjects. Often this
viscus, upon the muscular and secretive actions of which the health and
the strength are dependent, when taken from the body of an animal which
has long been subjected to the abuses practiced in the modern stables,
is of so stretched a nature as to be semi-transparent, and sometimes as
thin as brown paper.
When a horse returns home, after a long fast, it is most unwise to
place the famished life before a heaped manger. First attend to its
immediate requirements. These satisfied, and the harness removed, a
pail of gruel should be offered to the animal. The writer knows it is
said by many grooms that their horses will not drink gruel; the author
likewise is aware that most servants dislike the bother attendant on
its preparation, while few understand the manner in which it should be
prepared. The general plan is to stir a little oatmeal into any pail
containing hot water, and to offer the mess, under the name of gruel,
to the palate which long abstinence may have rendered fastidious. The
horse only displays its intelligence when it rejects the potion thus
rudely concocted.
No stable is complete unless its furniture embraces a two-gallon pot,
and a pail which is kept sacred to cleanly purposes. Then, with regard
to oatmeal; this substance, as commonly sold by corn-chandlers, and
some bakers, is positively rank. It is naturally sweeter even than
other meals; but, by long keeping, it contracts a pungent and a most
unpleasant taste. To be good, it should be fresh; and the coarser it
is, the finer is the gruel which it yields.
There are few places in London where the oatmeal which is purchased
can be depended upon. The writer, however, has for several months
enjoyed, every morning and night, a mess of most excellent porridge,
made from coarse Scotch or “round” meal procured of Mr. C. Rayment,
corn-chandler, Queen’s Buildings, Knightsbridge. It is so sweet and
pleasant that the diet requires no “Kitchener,” or accompanying
condiment, to recommend it. The preparation is eaten without flavoring;
and it seems to possess medicinal properties, as under its use the
writer has lost that yellowness of skin which formerly denoted the
liver to be deranged, while he is rapidly regaining health, and has
entirely discarded the employment of drugs.
One quart of Mr. C. Rayment’s Scotch oatmeal should be thrown into the
two-gallon pot, which is to be gradually filled with boiling water, a
little cold being first used, merely to divide the grains. The saucepan
is then placed on the fire, and its contents are to be briskly stirred
until the liquid has _boiled_ for ten minutes. After this, it may be
put where it will only just simmer; and, in one hour, the gruel will
be ready, or in shorter time, should the fire be fierce. The liquid
is then poured through a sieve, or should the steed be excessively
exhausted, the gruel may be mixed with one quart of sound ale and with
half a pound of sugar. The solid part is mingled, while hot, with an
equal quantity of bran, and this mixture, having been closely covered,
is placed in the manger half an hour after the gruel has been imbibed.
Some horses, however, purge when brought home after a long fast. Such
animals are generally of a loose and weakly constitution. For creatures
of this description the bran would prove injurious, and an additional
pint of meal had better be boiled in a quart of water, which, when
mixed with the solid from which the gruel has been strained, will
constitute a moist and highly nutritious diet for a delicate horse.
The author has, for experiment, tried this form of food upon several
quadrupeds, which he was assured abhorred everything like mash or
gruel; but only in one instance was the preparation not eagerly
consumed. In the exceptional case it was not entirely rejected, being
partly eaten; but the writer suspects the apparently dainty quadruped
had been previously supplied with a more than usual quantity of oats,
as the behavior rather testified to want of appetite than denoted any
positive dislike of the nourishment which was before the animal.
Besides hay, corn is commonly used in this country as a food for
horses. The corn of the English stable is almost confined to oats. In
foreign lands various substances are employed. General, however, as the
adoption of oats may be in this kingdom, few, very few persons, beyond
the limits of the corn market, have any distinct notion concerning this
kind of grain. With the vast majority an oat is an oat, and all oats
are of one kind. In exceptional cases, gentlemen are partial to oats
of some particular hue. Certain persons will purchase only a black
oat; another class prefer a full golden tint, to distinguish the kind
they favor; while a few admire a whiteness of husk. Such differences,
however, do not affect the grain; the colors are limited to the
chaff--the kernels of all are of one tint.
The kernel, or the mealy substance of oats, differs in each variety
of corn. One sample shall be thick in the husk, and possessed of a
superabundance of beard; but the body of such corn will be narrow, also
of contrasting sizes and of various colors.
The inferior specimens are commonly mixed with other seeds, with pieces
of stick and portions of straw, as well as sometimes adulterated by the
presence of other grain. These oats may impart a saltish flavor to the
taste; likewise they may have a faint, smoky, or fusty odor. Such corn
seldom weighs more than twenty-two pounds to the bushel.
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
KONISBERG OATS.]
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
PETERSBURG OATS.]
Another sample, of a different country, will rattle briskly as it is
poured from the bulk into the palm. Such has a clean aspect and almost
a metallic luster. It is full or plump, being positively beardless,
and exhibits no more husk than is needed to surround the kernel of
such grain. When attentively scrutinized, perhaps no specimen of oats
will be found to be all of one size; but no very striking inequalities
will catch the attention, when the better sort are viewed. These are
entirely tasteless; and do not even suggest the possibility of a scent
appertaining to them. Corn of this quality is too valuable not to be
carefully harvested; consequently the hardest pressure of the thumb
nail leaves no indentation; while the kernel rather chips than tears
asunder, when compressed between the teeth.
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
BEST SCOTCH OATS.]
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
ENGLISH OATS, FROM CANADIAN SEED.]
The absence of beard, however, is not an invariable sign of excellence:
if the weight per bushel be heavy, this feature should not be too
strongly insisted upon. Some good corn is distinguished by a greater
length of husk than is requisite simply to surround the kernel; but
such atones for this peculiarity by the bulk of the grain. It is true
that a sample of this kind seldom attains to the highest weight, and
the purchaser loses somewhat by an excess of chaff.
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
NEW IRISH FEED OATS.]
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
FIRST CLASS SWEDES.]
Yet in England, which country on the continent is esteemed to be
a land of horses, very few stables are supplied with other grain
than that of an inferior description. The better kind is bought by
the miller and the trainer of racers or hunters. The inferiority of
most corn, however, seems not to disturb domestic tranquillity. The
majority of proprietors open an account with some neighboring chandler,
and the groom is empowered to fetch the provender, which the horses
are supposed to consume. Dealers in grain do not enjoy unsullied
reputations. It is a custom with grooms to exact ten or five per cent.
on all the master’s bills which refer to the stable. The gentleman,
therefore, always purchases his fodder very dearly, where such an
arrangement exists.
Oats should never be bought by measurement, but should invariably be
purchased by weight. A prime sample will weigh forty-eight pounds to
the bushel; whereas the author has heard of, although he does not
pretend to have seen, oats so very light that the same bulk was only
equivalent to sixteen pounds. However, a grain which is professed
merely to reach twenty-two pounds is to be met with in every market.
The difference of weight should be more than accompanied by an
equivalent diminution of price; because a prime oat of forty-eight
pounds will yield thirty-six pounds of pure grain, after the chaff
has been removed. A fair oat gives half its weight of kernel; but an
excellent sample will afford three-quarters of its entire weight in
prime nutritious substance; whereas a poor specimen will produce no
more than eight pounds of clean corn to the bushel measure!
Consequently, supposing a choice sample to sell for thirty-six
shillings, the inferior article can be worth only eight shillings the
quarter; for no man can esteem the husk as a food suitable for any
living creature, nor would any person purchase such utter refuse, even
at the fraction of a penny per pound. Cheapness, in such particulars,
is therefore very far from the truest economy.
Most chandlers do not keep the better specimens of oats. With the
majority, thirty-six pounds is about the prime standard. As a proof of
the correctness of the above assertion, the author, a few months ago,
visited a friend, and being grieved to see that the best price was
paid for an inferior oat, he purposed to call on all the neighboring
dealers in corn, inquiring for grain of only forty pounds weight. Even
this the writer was unable to obtain--all naming thirty-six pounds
as the gravity of the highest article which they had in stock. The
gentleman, therefore, who determines to procure only the choicest corn,
must purchase of some large and respectable retail dealer. Should any
chandler assert the impossibility of his obtaining the heavier kind of
grain, let the gentleman at once seek some tradesman who has dealings
at the Corn Exchange, where any quantity of any species of grain can at
all times be secured, without further trouble than usually attends upon
business transactions.
[Illustration: HEAVY AND LIGHT OATS AS EACH LIES IN THE MEASURE.]
The animal is doubly defrauded where poor corn is served out by
measure. The grain, in the first place, contains less nourishment;
in the next place, the solid bulk is not the same; because the husks
not only occupy more space, for, by acting as props to one another,
frequently clear cavities are formed. Therefore, were the light and the
heavy corns, required to fill a given measure, to be counted, probably
no vast difference would be discovered in their number. The reader
must, however, himself determine how far it is possible for a horse to
be cheated, without the master suffering from the fraud in its effect.
Further injury is inflicted by permitting the quadruped to consume
only an inferior corn. Whoever will carefully examine the drawings of
oats given in the present division of the book, can hardly fail to
remark that the denuded kernels appear of a size disproportioned to
that represented as the dimensions of the perfect grain. The microscope
makes plain the source of this apparent disparity. The epidermis or
the covering of the kernel is coated with numerous fine hairs, which
are too small to be perceptible to the unaided vision. These hairs are
closely compressed when surrounded by the natural envelope; but when
released from the husk, the hairs expand, and thus occasion the naked
eye to behold something far too large for the case from which it has
recently been released.
[Illustration: A MAGNIFIED ENGLISH OAT.]
[Illustration: ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE OAT HAIR CALCULUS. COPIED FROM THE
INTERESTING WORK ON CONCRETIONS, BY PROFESSOR MORTON.
1. A section of an Oat Hair Calculus.
2. Magnified hairs, mixed with crystals of the phosphates.
3. Hairs, further magnified.
4. Hairs, so enlarged as to display their bulbous insertions and
curved forms.
]
In the inferior sorts, the hairs are rather longer, and likewise more
numerous, than in the better kind of corn; while, of course, the
covering, according to the smallness of the grain, becomes serious,
when regarded as a proportionate weight of the whole. These diminutive
hairs are perfectly indigestible and entirely indestructible when taken
into the stomach. The peristaltic action releases them from the surface
of the kernel; being set free, they are frequently felted together
by the moisture and rolling motion of the stomach. However small the
hairs may be separately, nevertheless by their union they form masses
of immense size, provoking such serious impactment as often leads to
a terrible and a fatal issue. A further reason, therefore, exists for
employing good grain in the possibility of such accumulations, the true
nature of which was first pointed out by Professor Morton, and by that
learned gentleman these concretions were appropriately designated =Oat
Hair Calculi=.
It has long been known that digestion is promoted by crushing the corn
before placing it in the manger. This custom, as a part of the proper
process, cannot be too highly commended. But careless horse owners
sometimes purchase the stable provender in a crushed state, or send
to have this process performed elsewhere than on their own premises.
Such habits are strongly objected to; the horse is surrounded by so
much dishonesty, that a prudent man is not justified in trusting the
animal’s food to the possibility of exchange or of adulteration.
To convey to the reader a definite notion of the very different
characters impressed upon various samples of oats, the following
illustrations of a few of those which were kindly supplied by a
wholesale firm, transacting business at the Corn Exchange, are here
presented.
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
IRISH OATS. BLEACHED.]
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
KILN-DRIED DANISH OATS.]
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
SCOTCH OATS. SECOND QUALITY.]
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
FINLAND BLACK OATS.]
A horse owner should invariably have all corn crushed and chaff cut
on his premises. The necessary machines are well known, and will soon
repay their cost. New grain will not break or crush, but will rather
leave the mill flattened or bruised. Corn of this description is
easily told by its being soft and yielding; also by its retaining the
mark made by the pressure of the thumb nail. Should that test not be
perfectly satisfactory, a convincing proof is soon obtained by placing
the suspected grain between the teeth. A sound oat should be dry and
hard: it should almost chip asunder, and not be torn or broken into
pieces by compression. In the autumn months, great care is needed
to procure sound corn; the non-professional purchaser is, perhaps,
best protected, when he deals for such an article with responsible
trades-people, who, in their business, have a character to sacrifice.
[Illustration:
OATS.
KERNELS.
ENGLISH FEED.]
It is a custom to expel the moisture from new grain by drying it
in a kiln. It is thereby, in some degree, improved; but it cannot
be said to be rendered as wholesome as sound corn, hardened by the
natural process. Moreover, oats badly harvested or damaged by wet are
frequently placed in the kiln, where they are exposed to the sulphur,
in order to change or amend their color. The husks, however, at the
conclusion of the process, are seldom all of one tint. If closely
examined, indications of the original defect may be discovered on some
grains, while others will be of an unnatural whiteness. Kiln-dried
oats sometimes betray a shriveled aspect on that part which is near to
the beard, such puckering being occasioned by the sudden expulsion of
much dampness from the interior. The best test, however, is the rapid
rubbing of the sample between the palms of the heated hands; when,
should sulphur have been employed, its peculiar odor will be developed.
The author has been thus careful in describing the signs which declare
the presence of sulphur, because that mineral, although much employed
by ordinary farriers, can occasion the most terrible belly-ache,
gripes, fret, or spasms. This affection is one of the most fearful to
which the horse is subject, and is the more to be dreaded, as it too
often leads to other complications. Perhaps a greater number of animals
annually perish through causes resulting from spasms, than die under
any other equine ailment.
Healthy corn, having been bruised, is not even then properly prepared
for the equine digestion. The stomach of the horse is a delicate
membranous sac, which is easily perforated or ruptured. It has no
provision suited to digest hard corn, neither are the teeth of the
animal fitted to masticate so resistant a substance. Unlike the similar
organs in man, the equine tooth is destined to wear by attrition, and
anything calculated to hasten that process equally diminished the
existence of the animal. The inappropriateness of the stable and its
food must be the reason why English horses are so lamentably short
lived. The quadruped was, according to the briefest calculation,
designed to exist for forty years; but the majority in this country
cease to breathe before they attain the sixth birthday. How much
money is thereby sacrificed! How much barbarity is by this lamentable
mortality proved to exist! What a terrible amount of unmerited abuse
must be yearly perpetrated! What a lack of appreciation of the
Creator’s goodness is exemplified by the cruelty which thus shortens
the duration of His choicest gift to the human race!
[Illustration: APPARATUS FOR PREPARING HORSES’ FOOD.
_a a._ Pipes, having stop-cocks to regulate the steam and to allow it
to circulate when the boiler is not employed.
_b b, b b._ An iron pot, having a close-fitting lid, but pierced to
admit the steam pipes.
_c c._ A shifting interior case, made with a perforated bottom.
_d d._ A layer of straw or of hay to prevent the crushed grain clogging
the openings.
_e e e._ The broken corn undergoing the process of being prepared.
_f._ A small tap to drain off the condensed fluid.]
Prior to the grain being placed before the horse, it should be
softened. Where a building is heated by steam, the accomplishment
of this would always be at command. Let each feed of corn and every
portion of hay, whether cut into chaff or not, be cooked by being
exposed to the action of the vapor for a couple of hours. Moisture, in
the form of steam, is known to be very penetrating; and the ingredients
of the manger, when thus prepared, are always more relished than in the
raw condition, while the liquid which drains from the provender will
prove a highly grateful and a most nutritious beverage to the tired
quadruped.
Hard substances taken into the stomach of a horse are well known to
derange the animal’s system--a fact which has long been proved to
the horse-copers and other rogues who live by imposition. A pound of
shot will, for a time, conceal the peculiar breathing characteristic
of broken wind, though this temporary escape from an outward symptom
of disease is often followed by disastrous consequences. Hard grain,
if fired from a rifle, would prove no contemptible missile; much of it
is bolted by the quadruped before which it is cast, and consequently
passes out of the body undigested. The actions of sparrows and the
luxuriant green crops which often adorn the tops of dunghills are both
evidences of the waste attending the ordinary mode of feeding.
General, all but universal, as the employment of oats may be in this
kingdom, very few of Her Britannic Majesty’s subjects have the remotest
idea of the use which this corn subserves in the animal economy.
Drivers will stop, when proceeding upon long journeys, and order their
nags large feeds of oats, to enable them to complete the distance,
or, in other words, to aid the muscular power. Corn, however, is now
ascertained to generate only fat, which rather detracts from than
favors the development of motor energy. It certainly sounds strangely,
after the expenditure of millions of money, after ages of experience,
and after the training of horses was thought to have been fostered
into a science, to hear it broadly asserted that the purpose and end
attained by the administration of England’s favorite feed for horses is
totally mistaken! Such, however, is the unvarnished truth; the gallops
or the sweats that frequently injure animals while in training are no
more than the efforts of ignorance to remove those consequences which
its own acts have occasioned. They are attempts to get rid of the fat,
which the employment of much corn has naturally produced.
Besides oats, however, beans are used in the best stables; but there
is much dispute as to the quantity which a horse can advantageously
consume. The English field bean should always be hardened by age before
it is suited for the manger; even then, it should be prepared; for
a substance which, when rattled in a measure, emits a sound like to
that produced by so many pebbles striking one against the other, can
hardly be in a condition proper for comminution between most sensitive
and highly-organized members. They should be crushed and subjected to
the action of steam, which will, in a couple of hours, remove the
objectionable quality without reducing them to a watery mass.
[Illustration: ENGLISH BEANS--A GOOD SAMPLE.]
[Illustration: ENGLISH BEANS--A BAD SAMPLE.]
Horse beans, as grown in England, however, are very coarse and
astringent substances. No wonder if the large employment of such
produce is found to act upon the bowels; surprise should be expressed
if so harsh a food could be consumed without inducing constipation.
The Egyptian bean, nevertheless, is free from such objectionable
properties, being mild and sweet. The author thinks a larger quantity
of this crushed and moistened seed might be with benefit presented to
the animal. As at present imported, however, it is very imperfectly
harvested. Most samples exhibit the shriveled and the discolored
skin, which denotes the sickle was resorted to before the plant was
matured--an error perfectly inexcusable in a climate which is for nine
months of the year free from rain.
[Illustration: EGYPTIAN BEANS--A GOOD SAMPLE.]
[Illustration: EGYPTIAN BEANS--A BAD SAMPLE.]
Might not some sound Egyptian beans be procured; from these could not a
milder and better species of bean be raised in this country? The field
pea is open to the same condemnation; but field peas are not generally
employed in stables. Those used for horses are small and white, of
foreign growth, and quite unobjectionable. Tares are given only to farm
teams; but if this plant possesses only a tithe part of those virtues
for which it is accredited, its employment might be advantageously
extended. Why should hay be made only of grass which, though admirable
sustenance for the bovine tribe, evidently is not equally suited to the
equine species? The dropsy of the abdomen and legs it induces in nags,
together with the foulness of coat which it engenders, are perhaps the
best evidence of the injury that attends the long employment of green
grass, or even of hay, as a solitary sustenance.
Might not beans, peas, and other leguminous substances be sown
broadcast, and mown when in flower? Hay thus produced would be of all
value in the stable, because grass, like corn, whether exhibited green
or dry, simply induces fat; whereas leguminous plants all favor the
development of muscular fiber or support the strength of the body. Such
hay might be charged a little higher; but then its feeding value and
its worth as a promoter of condition would far more than recompense any
extra money at which it might be charged.
It may be asked why, if hay produces fat, are the horses of the poor
so lamentably lean, since such quadrupeds receive little else than hay
to sustain them? The reasons are numerous. The hay such horses obtain
is not often of a good quality; and it is to be feared the stuff is
not, frequently, presented in sufficient quantity to promote obesity.
Besides, this substance leaves the muscular power unrefreshed. The
frame being exhausted by a life passed in exertion, the body’s weakness
effectually counteracts all tendency to fatten.
[Illustration: A MAGNIFIED MUSTY OAT.]
Beans are not known to be much exposed to deterioration; but oats
are liable to an affection of the epidermis or of the skin, which
causes them to be covered with little granules of a dark color, which
the microscope discovers to be fungoid growths resembling a species
of very minute toadstools. Corn, when in this condition, is readily
recognized by a very powerful musty smell; and the grain, of course,
is not adapted to nourish any animal. Musty provender is supposed to
engender worms and other unpleasantnesses; but the author is disposed
to attribute the production of the parasites to a want of resistance in
the system, which may be inherited, or spring from a sickly state of
the body, or which may be produced by the consumption of unwholesome
diet.
Another advantage which is attendant on the employment of heat and
moisture is that, by its operation, the unwholesome nature of food, if
not absolutely corrected, is greatly ameliorated. The horse proprietor
is thus, in some measure, protected from those accidents to which
every stable is liable where a stud groom does not preside over the
establishment, or where the owner is not remarkable for activity. The
benefit resulting from heat may, in a certain measure, be secured where
no steaming apparatus exists; but then two stout closely-shutting boxes
of galvanized iron and a scoop, together with a large kettle, are
required.
[Illustration: MACERATING BOX AND SCOOP.]
The food is placed in one of the receptacles; then so much boiling
water should be poured upon it as experience has ascertained will be
entirely absorbed. This done, the lid is closed, and the confined steam
will partially cook the provender. The need for two boxes is to allow
the hay, chaff, or grain to remain for a longer period subjected to the
moisture, so that these substances may be thoroughly softened. This,
however, is a more troublesome method, and the mode does not equal, in
its results, the employment of steam where the vapor can be commanded;
but, whichever practice is adopted, the following regulations should
always be observed when the horses are fed.
The mangers intended for the reception of softened provender must be
of a peculiar construction. The feeding compartment should possess
a lid, which may be let down when the manger is removed. This last
should always be taken out of the stable after it has been emptied;
the interior should, at each removal, be thoroughly cleansed. The form
of the receptacle should, in some measure, resemble a large pudding
dish, and should offer no sharp angles, where the moist provender may
accumulate and turn unpleasantly acid. A broad rim should surround the
hollow, into which rim should be let two movable handles, the use of
which is to expedite the manger being carried from place to place. The
substance ought to consist of galvanized iron, but the interior may
advantageously be coated with enamel.
[Illustration: IRON DISH OR MOVABLE MANGER FOR HORSES’ FOOD.]
[Illustration: GIVING OUT THE MACERATED FOOD.]
Such an article, when placed in the wooden frame adapted to receive it,
would be supported by its rim and kept by its own weight in the proper
situation. When taken thence, it ought to be carried to the pump and
cleansed, after which it is lodged in the provender house. When feeding
time comes round, two helpers or stable-boys wheel two barrows to the
door of the building and there wait. The head groom, attended by two
others, enters the room, and with the scoop serves out the provender,
each groom by turns holding a manger to be filled.
As the basins are loaded, these are arranged on the barrows; when the
macerating box has been emptied, the grooms and helpers proceed upon
their rounds. As each barrow stops before a door, the man who wheels
it goes to the outside of the building, and, pulling a string, thereby
raises the lid of the manger. He next proceeds to the entrance, and,
having undone the fastenings, stands ready to admit the groom on his
approach. This being done, the lower half is closed, and only opened
again to allow of the groom’s egress.
[Illustration: CARRYING THE FOOD ROUND TO THE STABLES.]
Where a horse, of a known restless or ravenous habit, is confined, an
external slide affords the means of supplying food. The manger, in
such a box, should be replaced after it has been cleansed; for, as it
is then empty, the food cannot be lost in consequence of the impatient
hunger or of the nervousness of the animal. When the feeding hour comes
round, the lid of the receptacle having been raised by pulling at the
string, the shutter is lifted up and the provender shot through the
open space. The steamed oats and chaff are not absolutely wet. The
condition is rather less sticky than the same bulk of brewers’ grains.
The substance, therefore, would readily fall down into the manger;
but, as this mode necessitates that the incline be constantly scraped
and cleaned, it is not, because extra trouble is enforced by it,
recommended for general adoption.
Thus, without that excitement, delay, and ill humor which too
frequently distinguishes feeding time in large establishments, each
horse may be speedily supplied. All needed is a little drilling by
the head groom, so each man may understand his office: that when
fulfilling it, no one may obstruct the path of his fellow. The steaming
or maceration of food may, by certain readers, be imagined to have
originated in a desire to write _pretty_ about horses. The author
denies such a motive. Besides, the plan has no pretense to originality.
It has for many years been practiced: but not in _high-class_ stables.
The writer, however, had an inducement, in truth, to recommend its
general adoption, and, therefore, to some portion of the implied charge
he may plead “guilty.”
All horse owners bitterly complain of the expense involved in the
support of an animal. Nor is this surprising, when it is considered
that one-half of its provender passes through the body of the animal
undigested, being no more than so much material literally wasted;
while a great portion of the remainder, though dearly purchased, is
absolutely without nutriment. As a matter of economy, nothing should
be placed in the manger which is not fit to be appropriated, or is
not proper to nourish the strength. Such is the purpose of food: that
is not food which does not feed, although, like the clay balls of the
American Indian, it may be swallowed under the promptings of appetite;
for when received into the stomach, like the substance alluded to, it
probably will engender disorder.
Improper articles, therefore, presented as food, are in a double sense
extravagant. In the first place, they do not sustain the life; in the
second place, they entail the expense and loss of service which are
inseparable from disease. Whether with horse or with man, everything
offered as food should do more than merely appease the appetite. Unless
it also uphold the vigor, devouring it is to waste the substance; and
whatever adapts provender to the requirements of the digestion, cannot
in reason be esteemed either extravagant or unnecessary. Of course,
prepared food entails trouble. It cannot be forked into a rack or
tossed into a manger speedily and without soil to the garments. There
are plenty of reasons why grooms should cling to “hard meat;” and why
this class of servants should object to prepared fodder.
Grooms, however, as generally treated, are most exceptionable
domestics. Other servants are occupied throughout the day. The stable
attendant turns the key upon the day’s duties at six o’clock in the
evening. He is the most wasteful and costly of all the servants in or
about the house. He wastes even that which Heaven has supplied in the
greatest abundance. He wastes the air; since, to obtain warmth, he will
not permit the horse to breathe other than atmosphere contaminated by
the creature’s excretions. He wastes the quadruped’s strength; since he
works it out of season, and is pleased to view the limbs, when not in
action, “cribbed and confined” within the narrow limits of a stall. He
upholds every abuse. He is opposed to every improvement. The sum which
a fashionable groom costs his master is not to be estimated by the
money paid to the individual as wages.
Hay, oats, and beans constitute the horse’s daily sustenance. These
articles are quickly measured out, and do not soil the hand which
apportions them. No doubt the groom will resist any change in so
convenient a diet; but the subject, as it at present stands, concerns
the liking of no person. It simply involves a moral duty. Nature has
sent food in abundance and in variety. Is man justified, when he
opposes nature’s obvious intention? When he first imprisons a life,
and then dooms it to subsist for the period of its being on a monotony
of provender, does he act rightly or wisely? What motive can be urged
strong enough to warrant the pigmy in placing his insignificance
between the creature and the liberality of the Creator?
Horses are not confined to England. Elsewhere the quadrupeds thrive
on other food than hay, oats, and beans. The Arab, which stands first
among the tribe, and is by some writers recognized as the original
of the species, thrives on barley and on chopped straw. The American
breed rarely taste oats, being fed on Indian-corn; as, likewise, are
many animals inhabiting the south of Germany. Damaged wheat is eaten
by agricultural teams all over the world. Rye is given as a supporting
diet, when long journeys are traveled in Russia. In India, the cavalry
charger exists chiefly on a grain called “gram.” In Ireland, the
general feed is raw potatoes. In Iceland, dried fish is employed as
provender; while during the needy period of the Crimean campaign, the
English horses devoured the tails of their stable associates.
England, however, can supply or can import all the articles enumerated.
Why, therefore, are oats preferred as the fittest food for horses? The
kernel of this grain is covered by a solid coat of chaff. That chaff
adds to the weight of the corn, and is charged to the purchaser as so
much nutritious matter. It is not supporting; but it occupies space
when first taken into the stomach. That space allows the dried kernels
to swell without occasioning inconvenience to the animal; for the same
moisture which enlarges the oat, also softens the husk, and allows it
to be compressed with little absolute force.
As dry food, given separately, oats no doubt are the most wholesome
provender for horses. Barley, rye, or wheat, if dry, would require
a proportion of chaff to be mixed with those grains, so as to render
either of them safe. Few things are more common in agricultural
districts, than for animals to be injured by eating the latter kind
of food. Quadrupeds often break loose, and gorge upon wheat; when the
cereal, swelling after it has been swallowed, not unseldom ruptures
the stomach and destroys the life. All dried grain should be moistened
before it is placed in the manger. When properly soaked, barley, wheat,
or rye are more wholesome than oats. Mingled with chaff, they are quite
as beneficial, even when administered in the dried state. They are,
moreover, when regarded in the view of weight for weight of nutriment,
far cheaper than the vast majority of England’s favorite provender.
Might not the ship biscuit, which is now used only as a food for dogs,
be profitably employed in the stable? It contains no husk. Its surface
is not surrounded by dangerous hairs. It is all nutriment; and, being
slightly moistened by the action of steam, would doubtless be consumed
with avidity, after the first distaste, natural to timidity, had been
overcome. This species of provender would be cheaper than the raw,
hard, and unprepared grain, which might with advantage be superseded by
crushed biscuit mingled with a proportion of chaff.
The action of heat is well known to change the nature of corn, while
fermentation converts the starch of the raw seed into sugar. Might not
a coarse kind of bread be made for the stable? This is no whim of the
author’s imagination. Such a plan is common throughout Germany, where
it is not unusual to see a carter feeding himself and steed off the
same loaf. The groom might possibly resist such an innovation upon his
rights and leisure; but a better order of dependents could be found, to
whom the extra labor would merely prove a pastime.
Besides bread and biscuits, there are various roots which might prove
very acceptable to a vegetable eater. The digestion of all such
articles is promoted by the substances being cooked before they are
presented. The fire extracts much of the water with which they all
abound; heat also, in some measure, arrests the tendency to ferment.
Why should such simple and natural food be denied to the creature which
nature has sent upon this earth with an appetite fitted to consume it?
There is ample room for choice in the list which has been indicated;
so far as experiment has hitherto tested the value of such articles
of food for horses, results have been obtained which seem to say the
change might be generally adopted without danger.
A sameness of diet is known to derange the human stomach. Under such a
system, the palate loses its relish, while a loathing is excited which
destroys appetite. How often do grooms complain of certain animals
being bad feeders! May not such disinclination for sustenance be no
more than the disgust engendered by a constant absence of variety? Is
there any large stable in the kingdom where one or more quadrupeds are
not equally notorious for being ravenous feeders? The disinclination
for the necessary sustenance and the morbid desire for an excess of
nutriment are alike symptoms of deranged digestion. Some horses will
devour large quantities of earth,--stones, _worms_, and all. Other
animals will, if not muzzled, consume the litter of their stalls, no
matter how tainted or filthy it may be. Strange tastes and unnatural
likings are not unfrequently displayed by the inhabitants of the
stable, among which, the instances cited are only the most common, all
such whims being declarative of a diseased stomach.
The stable, its management, its formation, and its food, do further
injury than merely to derange the digestion. Such may be its primary
effect; but the stomach is to the animal as the root is to the plant.
Through it all the nourishment is absorbed. By its healthful operation,
the trunk, limbs, and strength are maintained. The rootlets cannot
be diseased without the remotest twigs drooping and withering. So
the deranged digestion induced by the modern stable leads to those
fearful results which render life valueless; and which would terminate
the existence, were the event not anticipated by the office of the
knacker. Cribbing, weaving, quidding, surfeit, inflamed thorax, bowel
complaints, broken wind, glanders, diseases of the legs and of the
feet, with the majority of those injuries which are complacently
recognized as accidents, may all be directly traced to that
domestication which assumes a right to dictate how a life shall exist;
the atmosphere it shall breathe; the space it shall occupy; and the
substances it shall eat. Heaven, when this earth was first inhabited,
did not create beings without investing them with rights, which man
cannot abrogate at his convenience or set aside at his pleasure.
Of late years a class of traders has sprung up who profess to sell
“patent foods,” or nostrums, which are to be cast into the manger
with the corn. The economy and the marvelous effects of these secret
preparations are loudly trumpeted; and from the numbers who now deal
in such articles, these persons evidently find many customers. The
mixtures consist of certain seeds and spices, which, in consequence
of a relish being given to the monotony of manger diet, are eagerly
devoured. They may even stimulate a false appetite; but, after a time,
this effect will cease, and a loathing greater than the previous
excitement will succeed. It is not, therefore, with surprise that
the author hears of people, once very enthusiastic admirers of such
additions, having, after some experience, relinquished these foreign
aids to provender.
After all, “patent foods” contain matter which is as old as the hills.
Grooms and coachmen have, for a longer period than is to be reached
by the memory of man, had a confiding faith in certain charms, or
nostrums. Such innocent people have long held secrets for working
wonders--either by improving the coat, promoting condition, or creating
spirit, etc. These mysteries were made up either as balls or powders.
So general was this practice that certain veterinary surgeons kept
particular articles solely to meet the demands of such customers.
These ingredients, which were always retailed to ignorant people,
late in the evening and with much secrecy, are, in very many cases,
even to particulars, the same as are now the advertised “Blessings to
Horse Owners.” There is, however, this difference: such things are,
at present, purchased by the proprietor, whereas they formerly were
secretly procured by the servant. The master esteems it commendable
in him to administer such stuffs to his animals; whereas, a few years
ago, the retainer was assuredly dismissed from his situation, if not
punished, who was detected mixing any substance with the provender of
his horses.
With regard to quantity in the matter of diet. All animals are not of
one size, neither have all horses the same capacity of stomach. It is
usual to measure out so much corn as the allowance proper for a horse,
and to toss the quantity into the manger, without paying any attention
to the desires of the creature. Such a custom may be extremely
convenient; but it is very wasteful. Horses differ quite as much as men
do in their appetites. By the common practice, one animal receives more
than it requires, while another gets less than satisfies its cravings.
Some slight notice of the body’s necessities should be insisted upon
in those who pretend to comprehend the quadruped; and a master should
instruct the servant that a creature endowed with life cannot be justly
regarded as a manufacturing machine.
Then, as to the time of feeding. The horse is essentially a creature
of the night. Man may shake up the straw and lock the stable door;
but he does not, therefore, put the quadruped to sleep. Long hours of
watchfulness are apt to generate habits of mischief, as well as lead
to many indulgences which are no more than the results of want of
employment, or the absence of amusement. The solitary confinement, now
popular in prisons, in workhouses, and in some schools, is evidently
wrong in principle; more especially wrong is it, when practiced upon
children, as loneliness, acting upon immaturity of intelligence,
invariably leads to an evil desire, which is, in penal prisons, spoken
of as “breaking out.”
The horse has to pass twelve hours of weary time awake, without food
and without supervision. Why should not one feed, at least, be given
late at night? The present custom, of allowing the stable-man his
time after six o’clock, is not beneficial to the servant; nor is
it advantageous to a master. It merely encourages habits which are
expensive. Expensive habits are not commendable or innoxious, where
the weekly income is reckoned by shillings. A little more of wholesome
employment would greatly improve the stable-retainer. The man is
now corrupt; but those who suffer by his vices, expose him to that
temptation which subverts the uprightness of his inclinations. After
six, is a better hour for equine exercise than during the heat of the
afternoon. Subsequent to the setting of the summer’s sun, during the
cool, moist time of twilight, the quadruped would delight in being
abroad; but, during the hours when nature formed her creature to roam,
man, for a servant’s convenience, imprisons his slave; and, having
perverted every intent or purpose of its existence, complains aloud
because the laws of Creation are not made subservient to his perversity!
Could society be rendered a trifle more sympathetic and a little
less conceited, horses would largely benefit by such a change in the
dispositions of their masters. But this cannot be with present thoughts
and existing institutions. The modern age essentially delights in
_knowing_; it rather sneers at, than cultivates, _feeling_. England
abounds in schools, and is thickly strewn with colleges. Education is
much lauded; but the education at present given neglects the higher
and the better part of the pupil’s mind. Everywhere knowledge is
inculcated; nowhere is feeling cultivated. Nay, in the majority of
existing educational establishments, the sensations are blunted and the
emotions suppressed. Yet to elevate the feelings of its followers, is
the purpose and the object of Christianity. Reverends and Dignitaries
preside over places where, under pretense of being properly trained,
youths are unchristianized. Most young men quit their tutors with
the knowledge quickened; but where is the being who began life with
the heart improved, or with the moral sense to guide him through the
many obligations he was newly called to discharge, upon his becoming
a member of this world’s society? The horse especially suffers under
the consequences which result from the present evil tendency of the
community.
To talk of the feelings, the instincts, and the inclinations of
the quadruped, is to earn a character for maudlin affectation. The
populace in the public highways hourly stare at or carelessly pass
spectacles which, were the general mind really educated to understand
what is before it, should awaken the keenest commiseration; but
which are now viewed as sights that enliven the prospect. Whence is
derived such hardness of heart? Whence springs such general and such
a deep-rooted insensibility? No man seems capable of interposing a
voice of expostulation, when the streets display living and feeling
flesh creeping toward its early grave; when he beholds the animal
driven slowly to death; when he looks upon an animated being, so worn
and so dejected that it is the last office of humanity to summon the
knacker to end a hopeless misery. The existence of a Society, with
two constables, poorly counterbalances a national display of spurs
and of whips. The foremost humanitarian, so the skin be whole, can
afford to gaze upon a lean and spiritless horse, tired beyond man’s
most exaggerated conception of fatigue, slowly creeping before some
over-burdened cart, while the driver, whip in hand, adds his weight
to the disproportionate load. Misery in front, brutality behind, and
hard-heartedness around; while a fellow-inhabitant of earth totters
onward to its death!
Yet, how universal is the lamentation about “the instability of the
horse’s health,” and “the uncertainty of equine life!” Knowing what
stables are, and having learned the air, the food, and the exercise
allowed to maintain a horse’s existence, is there any just occasion for
appealing to sympathy, because a life, maltreated in every essential,
generally droops before the fate which abuse provoked? Forced into
early toil; never seen abroad without the goad by its side; worked to
the point of convenience, and nourished according to the dictates of
economy,--is it wonderful that the majority of horses perish before
their youth is matured? Is it not rather a justifiable reason for
surprise that a country should boast of its morality, should exalt its
civilization, should vaunt its Christian feeling--and, nevertheless,
that its inhabitants should tacitly combine to practice the grossest
inhumanity upon the meekest type of earthly sensibility?