THE SO-CALLED “INCAPACITATING VICES,” WHICH ARE THE RESULTS OF INJURY
OR OF DISEASE.
The word “vice,” when applied to the horse, represents any quality
which may annoy the prejudices of the groom, or may prove displeasing
to the expectations of the master. It is purely ridiculous to suppose
the animal can possibly be “vicious.” The simple nature of the
quadruped is gifted with no power to distinguish good from evil. It
lacks the imagination to conceive those acts which man esteems to be
heroic or to be grand. Were the creature able to embody ideas, the
race would possess the ability to combine; anything approaching to the
present patient docility would then be exchanged for open rebellion
against the earthly tyrant.
Human intelligence, however, seems to derive a strange pleasure from
regarding the obedient and most forgiving horse as a “vicious,” a
savage, and a most relentless “brute.” There seems to exist some
happiness in the exhibition of those cruelties which such notions alone
can justify. It is true that such unseemly contests do not invariably
terminate in favor of him who always originates the strife. The master,
who could by mildness have retained his power, by resorting to blows
occasionally becomes worsted; but the horse, although it should prove
victorious, always has to grieve over its triumph. The prowess of the
quadruped draws down the heaviest punishment of other members of the
race, an individual of which the animal has defeated.
A great many “accidents” would be avoided, and, probably, the amount
of happiness permitted to mortals would not be materially lessened,
could the populace be instructed to think a horse was endowed with
senses, was gifted with feelings, and was able, in some degree, to
appreciate motives. Such powers are enjoyed by all the higher grades
of animal life. In asserting this, there is not the most distant
desire to confound the living creature with the intellectual being.
Reason believes in and can contemplate a futurity. The human eye
takes easiest cognizance of forward objects. The vision of the horse
does not behold objects directly in front of its head, but glances
backward, without necessarily turning the face. Man can imagine
events ere they are embodied facts. An animal’s ideas are strictly
limited by its individual experiences. By these, its mind is moulded
and its conduct is shaped. It has no power to forget. The past, with
it, is the present. To suffer once, is to endure a constant dread
of suffering again. To be pained, is always to fear a repetition of
the agony. What has been, is, so long as memory shall last; for the
quadruped can conceive no future on which to fix its thoughts, or in
the contemplation of which to escape from the misery that begirts its
existence.
Would those persons who have no interest in any contrary opinion,
adopt the above view of the subject, how very much of danger and of
unpleasantness might the good people escape! It is not unusual to
behold an elderly gentleman, of the highest respectability, flog most
unmercifully, in the public street, some inoffensive steed, until a
reddened face announces temper to be lost. Foot passengers look on the
spectacle; but no one, even in thought, condemns the needless severity.
Hospital surgeons, however, can testify to something more permanent
than temper being occasionally sacrificed through these unseemly
contests. In such cases, man has provoked his fate. Reason, in vain,
shows a broad and pleasant path, where dwells security. Passion blinds
humanity, pride justifies passion, and the refuge is unheeded!
Will the reader kindly grant the author patience while the present
subject is pursued a little further? To prove the horse cannot,
in any accepted meaning of the word, possibly be “vicious,” it is
only necessary to comprehend that vice of every form, whether it
be lewdness, drunkenness, gluttony, or malice, always, in some
gratification, seeks for a personal reward. It is no more than the
concentration of selfishness. It always presupposes an intention. The
difference between crime and insanity lies only in the idea of some
recompense to be secured by the commission of a particular act and
in sin without a motive. When the horse was created without ability
to comprehend a future, the power to be “vicious” was, with the
possibility of a contemplated motive, withheld. The creature, being
unable to anticipate consequences, lacks incentive; therefore it can
display no “vice,” though it may exhibit insanity. The animal, however,
may not always please its master; it is the “vice” of authority to call
trivial offenses by harsher names than the actions in fairness should
receive; but no man has, hitherto, stigmatized the horse, which he
deems “vicious,” as insane.
Having premised thus much, the author will attempt to explain some of
the worst forms of equine “vice.”
“Rick of the back” and “chink of the back” are terms which represent
some indefinite injury to the spine of a horse. The quadruped is
essentially a beast of burden. The load is commonly supported on
the back. It is so, entirely, when the creature is used for saddle
purposes; and, in the heavier species of draught, the balance always
inclines toward the back of the “wheeler,” while the spines of some
coarse horses are sadly tried when they are obliged to trot back with a
heavy, springless cart, after the load has been delivered.
It is the general custom of this country to place young cart-horses
between the chains, or, in other words, to employ such animals only in
the capacity of leaders. The practice is equally wise and humane. The
draught is not easier as the propelling force is situated distant from
the load, but the pull then is entirely upon the collar, and no weight
is allowed to rest upon the immatured and yielding spine of a youthful
body. These benefits, however, are all rendered nugatory by the conduct
of most carters. Such men are, generally, of Herculean proportions, and
are conspicuous for no lightness of person.
The cart, dray, or wagon leaves the office with the driver in his
proper place, walking beside the horses. Here he continues until the
load is delivered; but, on the return journey, he is apt to experience
fatigue. He does not reflect how far his individual sensations are
likely to be shared by the animals which have been drawing some heavy
burden during the time he has been simply walking at their sides. No!
Seeking his own ease, he casts his body upon the back of the most
forward, and, therefore, upon the youngest horse of the team. His seat
is the loins, or directly upon the weakest portion of the vertebral
chain. There he rides, squatting with his legs dangling upon one side.
No doubt, the situation is pleasant; but where all is conjecture, the
reader must decide how far the repetition of such an act may account
for rick of the back being common among the heavier kind of horses.
It was otherwise with the old fly wagons of a former day. The driver
of those vehicles used to have fastened behind his load a stout pony.
When fatigued, the man would mount the supernumerary animal, and,
riding beside his horses, would rest his own legs while he continued
to guide his team; an act which the London carter is, by his position,
disqualified for performing. While the driver rests, the “luck which
attends on ignorance” must take care of the vehicle.
The spine of the horse, in a natural state, is characterized by a
highly elastic property. As every form of mechanism is exposed to
injury in proportion as it approaches to perfection, man should not
feel surprised if the delicately-organized back of the animal is not
exactly equal to all the usages unto which civilization has compelled
it to submit. Indeed, when we feel how unscrupulous the human being can
become, if urged onward by the pursuit of gain or prompted by a sense
of personal indulgence, it will hardly provoke wonder that the creature
doomed to be the helpmate of the avaricious, should occasionally suffer
in their service.
Rick or chink of the back is among the most common and the least
understood of equine affections. Its symptoms are confounded--one and
the same name being employed to indicate every stage of the disorder,
thus confusing inquiry. Those effects which result from organic change
are regarded as the promptings of that “viciousness of spirit” with
which it has pleased mankind to credit the horse. The liberality of
mortal imagination is extreme, especially where causes have to be
assumed. Grant man the right to conjecture, and there is no mystery
in nature for which he cannot account. Thus, the sharp pangs of agony
which induced the contortions of a dumb creature were conjectured to be
the gratification of an innately “vicious disposition.” This pretended
explanation has remained unquestioned for ages, abusing the intellect
of mankind and hardening the hearts of those whom it was thought to
enlighten. No doubt many very worthy people will feel much inclined to
quarrel with the book which presumes to question the interpretation
that generations have approved and time has sanctified.
However, to expose the manner in which the personation of meekness has
been abused by the arrogance of ignorance--certain animals are supposed
to indulge a morbid habit, or “vicious” propensity, which is, by the
lower orders, spoken of as “kidney dropping.” Creatures thus viciously
disposed are generally aged, and are devoted either to heavy draught
or to harness purposes. They are sometimes met in those stables where
horses are let out by the “hour, day, or job.” One thus afflicted will
be drawing a gig along some pleasant country road when “the vice” shall
be suddenly displayed. The attacks may appear in rapid succession, when
they render the life worthless; or they may only come on at distant
intervals, being separated by long periods of apparent soundness. No
jockey, however knowing he may be in his vocation, or however boastful
he may be about “my ’sperience ’mong ’orses,” can, by any visible sign,
announce the day or foretell the hour when a particular quadruped will
be afflicted with an attack of “kidney dropping.”
The horse shall be harnessed to some light vehicle, within which may
be seated some tradesman, by whose side smiles the eldest daughter
of a numerous family. The animal is not overloaded, and seems to be
journeying pleasantly at its own pace. He who holds the reins is
delighted; while she who sits beside him ever and anon leans forward
to pat the croup of “the dear pet.” The sun is shining; the birds are
singing; the trees are bright with new foliage; and the country smells
most pleasantly fresh; when, suddenly, the gig is brought sharply up,
and “the wicked beast” is discovered squatting upon its haunches like a
dog.
[Illustration: A “KIDNEY DROPPER.”]
This is an unnatural position with the horse. It is perfectly true,
animals are made to assume it in the circle of most amphitheaters;
but if the reader remembers, he also beheld men, in the same place,
put their arms and legs in positions which were quite as unnatural
to humanity in general as sitting on their haunches possibly could
be to the community of the equine race. What, therefore, may have
been exhibited at a circus signifies nothing, when regarded in its
fitness for universal application; in all other spheres, sitting on the
haunches, when exemplified by the horse, must be accepted as proof of
bodily derangement.
If the attitude of the animal be observed, the hind limbs will be seen
to have fallen in such positions as suggest no notion of comfort or
of design. They may cross one another, or they may be sprawled out on
either side of the body; they are never arranged with that grace and
care which indicate the attitude to have been deliberately assumed.
Moreover, should the skin be pricked with the point of a pin, no sign
of sensibility is usually elicited from the hind quarters. Strike the
prostrated members, and no evidence of pain follows the blow. The
posterior portions of the body, obviously, are dead to this world and
to its malice.
However, do not fuss about the horse; allow the sufferer to remain
undisturbed where it has fallen. Have patience with the distress which
no cruelty can quicken. Loosen the harness; remove the shafts; procure
some water, and permit sensibility to allay its parching thirst. After
a short space, the quadruped may get up of its own accord. No time has
been lost; but disease has not been aggravated by needless torture.
When the creature rises, the fit has passed; but the author doubts if
the recovery can then be pronounced complete. He would, certainly,
brave “an accident” who should essay to drive a horse but recently
recovered from an attack of “kidney dropping,” though this hazard may
be frequently incurred with apparent impunity.
Allow the injured quadruped to remain in the stable, undisturbed
for the night. The following morning will be time enough for its
examination; for the disease under which the horse languishes is of a
nature that cannot be affected by the lapse of a few hours.
[Illustration: TEST FOR RICK OF THE BACK.]
The next day, having selected a piece of clear ground, cover the spot
thickly with straw, and have the horse led on to it. The services of
a veterinary surgeon are not imperative. The proprietor may himself
conduct the investigation: or, should he feel distrustful of his own
ability, any person possessed of the necessary amount of confidence
may undertake the active duty. All idle spectators should be first
requested to retire. Then the investigator takes his position as close
to the quadruped as possible. He runs the forefinger and thumb gently
over the superior spinous processes of the vertebral chain, or down the
center of the back. This action is repeated several times, additional
force being brought to bear with each succeeding trial, until the whole
strength of the operator is exerted. While he is doing this, the
person who undertakes the investigation fixes his attention on the head
of the horse. If, upon pressure being made on any particular spot, the
ears are laid upon the neck, or the crest is suddenly elevated, the
fact must be mentally noted. The trial should be renewed, and if the
like symptoms be elicited, the conclusion naturally is, that the seat
of injury lies immediately under or very near to the place indicated.
This point being ascertained, the operator puts a hand on either side
of the tender part, and casts his full weight suddenly upon the spine.
Such a proceeding, to be demonstrative, must be rapid and energetic.
Horses, under the sudden pang thus produced, have shrieked in agony.
Generally, animals crouch under the torture, and burst forth into
copious perspirations. The author knows of no instance where a desire
to employ the teeth has been exhibited, although there is no predicting
in what manner a creature may behave under the powerful wrench of
actual torment. He, however, who undertakes such an inquiry, must be
prepared for every eccentricity; and, while regretting the necessity
which obliges agony to be inflicted on a gentle and a timid creature,
he should also be far above those coarse and brutal punishments which
are too frequently indulged to check the writhings of the potent
suffering.
The affair is thus decided. The spine has been injured, and the spinal
cord which it sheathes is also involved in the lesion. Horses in such
a condition are commonly, with that utter want of morality which in
every species of horse transactions appears equally to sway all degrees
of the human mind,--such animals are commonly cast upon the market,
or publicly disposed of by auction. The cause of sale is willfully
concealed: the purchaser is designedly imposed on, and his life is
knowingly endangered. Persons of every class, from most noblemen to
the ordinary tradesman, engage in this form of arrant cheatery. They
swindle their sense of rectitude by giving no warranty at the time of
sale; but the law presumes that everything sold contemplates a fitness
for certain purposes; whereas a horse liable to an instantaneous loss
of power in its limbs is dangerous in any employment. Yet so flimsy
an excuse seems to justify the reputedly _honorable_ man extracting,
possibly, the last penny from the pocket of or imposing upon some
struggling and needy individual.
The animal, being sold, is soon found to be worthless; it speedily
becomes the property of the lower class of horse-copers, to whom that
which they call a “kidney dropper” is a real prize. The quadruped is
sold “cheap” to people of worldly respectability; but it is seldom
retained long by its new owners. It is rebought, for little more than
its real value, by its former proprietors, to be once more palmed off
on some aspiring equestrian. After such a manner--selling in the
dearest market and buying in the cheapest, a maxim of very questionable
morality--a large profit has been realized by a carcass which was
actually worthless.
The author, never having dissected the spine of a “kidney dropper,”
cannot positively say in what condition of parts the disease resides.
A knowledge of anatomy, however, aided by a comprehension of the
symptoms, demonstrates the vertebral chain is the seat of injury; while
the want of motion which affects the hinder limbs indicates the spinal
marrow to be suddenly pressed upon. Subsequent recovery likewise proves
the injury to the nervous center is of no more serious a character;
while the perfect restoration of the animal’s power shows that the
pressure is either caused by displacement, or by such a partial
fracture as rest will enable nature to surmount. This explanation,
deduced from observation, and based upon inferences drawn from the
study of effects, will to most persons appear so probable as to be
perfectly satisfactory. Still, there do exist minds whose faith in an
antiquated name it is hardly possible for any argument to destroy; the
generality of readers, therefore, must grant the author patience, while
he, most probably in vain, attempts to disabuse such persons of their
strange belief.
The term “kidney dropping” is an ignorant combination of words to which
no absolute meaning can be attached. The kidneys are no more than
the renal glands. The horse which falls exhibits no sign of urinary
disease. These organs are usually healthy; of that fact the writer
has positive information. The kidneys, moreover, are not _specially_
endowed with motor nerves; no physiologist has hitherto asserted that
these glands are in any way concerned in the movements of the body.
The renal organs have, by the French, been unwarrantably removed,
without the general sensation or the body’s motion being affected.
When the horse drops, not only is motion gone from the hind limbs, but
sensibility is lost. The quarters have dropped, not in accordance with
the will of the creature, but because the posterior division of the
body was released from the control of the sensorium, or was suddenly
cut off from the influence of volition.
The spinal marrow regulates the motions of the limbs, being subject
only to the dictation of the brain. Volition and motion are in these
organs associated, but not absolutely united. They both are capable of
separate existence, though the mechanical derangement which destroys
the one usually puts an end to the other. Nevertheless, they can exist
apart. Convulsion exhibits motion, as independent of the will; while
painful paralysis displays sensibility increased, although power
of movement has been lost. In “kidney dropping,” consciousness is
retained; but motion and sensibility have departed from one-half of
the trunk. This result indicates the nervous current to be partially
checked, and points to the great medium of transmission as the seat of
injury.
There is, however, another form of chink in the back, where the
spinal marrow is in no vast degree involved, and in which the animal
exhibiting the affection is not generally devoted to harness purposes.
The horse is commonly showy in appearance, and is usually disposed of
exclusively for saddle uses. But the existence of a disease is not
denoted by any outward sign; therefore its presence is sneered at as
a positive impossibility. Quadrupeds, thus disordered, are, by the
generality of horsemen, condemned as “irreclaimably vicious.”
One of the bones of the spine has been rendered loose in consequence
of the ligaments being overstrained; the animal has been abused in
some manner. The ligaments, when in this condition, are acutely
painful; though no visual disorder may be observable to the post-mortem
examiner, nevertheless the slightest weakness in such a structure may,
during life, occasion the severest agony. The bone is not fractured;
but one of the vertebræ, through the leverage of its superior spinous
process, may have been wrenched slightly to one side. This may not
affect the appearance of the quadruped; neither may it elicit signs of
pain when the weight is evenly seated upon the back; therefore, only
during the act of mounting, the drag then being entirely to one side,
it occasions the most poignant anguish.
The horse, being dumb, of course cannot explain its sensations; nor can
it appeal to the forbearance of its master. Its ailments are entirely
subjected to the merciful consideration of man. The animal’s actions,
therefore, are always liable to be misconstrued; the promptings of
torture are frequently confounded with the exhibitions of the worst
forms of “vice.” Thus, a creature with the ligaments of the back
strained is always condemned as an inveterate kicker; because the
drag, produced by the weight of the rider resting on one stirrup,
occasions so sharp an agony as alarms the quadruped, and naturally
excites a determination to repel some imaginary enemy. The creature,
consequently, commences to “lash out” with its utmost energy. This
violence is repeated so often as the owner has occasion to remount.
The action is always sudden, and not to be inferred from the previous
aspect or behavior of the nag. It is, therefore, attended with the
greater danger, not only to the proprietor, but also to those who may
be collected about the horse.
A good illustration of the above facts occurred a few years back,
in front of certain spacious “rooms,” then much frequented by “the
fashionable world.” A cavalry officer, recently returned from India,
went to hear a morning concert at the place just alluded to. There he
met some old friends, who had changed their residence since he had
left the country, being then located at Richmond. The party had ridden
to London; the military gentleman was pressed to return, and to spend
a pleasant day at the suburban villa. A servant was dispatched to hire
a horse; the man soon returned with a rather small, but very showy,
black nag. The officer thought, before the concert was ended, he would
retire and form the acquaintance of an animal he was shortly to ride
for several miles. It was well he did so; for no sooner was his foot
placed in the stirrup, than what previously appeared to be a remarkably
steady quadruped began to “lash out.” The action was continued,
creating terrible confusion among the crowd which thronged the street,
and ultimately throwing the would-be rider. The military gentleman
was probably more hurt in feelings than in person by the incident;
although the latter circumstance formed an excuse for not journeying to
Richmond, and the occurrence, on the following morning, was circulated
throughout London as a newspaper paragraph, bearing a heading of
“Serious Accident to a Cavalry Officer.”
[Illustration: NEVER MOUNT A STRANGE HORSE IN A CROWDED LOCALITY.]
Violent, however, as may be the resistance provoked while the foot
is in the stirrup, the seat of the saddle is no sooner attained than
composure is restored. When the rider is once fairly on the back, the
steed assumes its natural timidity, its docility, and its obedience.
It is then transformed into all the most fastidious proprietor could
desire. That circumstance has induced some horsemen who were more
thoughtful than the generality of the race, to change the habit usual
in this country. Such persons have tried the effect of mounting upon
the wrong side; this has usually, for a certain time, been attended
with perfect success; but the custom, after a space, has seemed to
involve the sound ligaments, when the kicking has been renewed with
more than double vehemence. A horse which kicks in the way described,
should always be transferred to harness work, when no vast weight being
upon the back, the quadruped generally behaves admirably.
Rick or chink in the back is, however, the common property of
creatures of heavy draught, and, with such a description of horse,
the consequences are usually more marked and much more severe. The
reader will readily imagine that a “kidney dropper,” falling suddenly
while pulling a weighty load, can hardly escape “accident.” Therefore,
quadrupeds of the coarser breed, and thus afflicted, rapidly come into
the possession of those who do not scruple to trade with misery; and,
as this form of disease enables the sufferer to appear with a blooming
coat, as well as with a carcass carrying a quantity of fat, the copers
often reap a rich harvest by their unscrupulous dishonesty.
A common cause of these accidents is the thoughtlessness or the
greediness of horse proprietors. It has become almost a custom, with
needy masters, to send out one-horse carts upon two wheels with long
reins attached to the harness. The motive which induces such silly
behavior is obvious enough. The tradesman imagines that by the animal
being hurried back after the load is delivered, time can be saved. He
does not consider that the limbs, which have been strained dragging
some fearful weight to a particular spot, may, before another task of
magnitude is imposed, possibly require the comparatively easy walk
back to recover the full use of their functions. He probably, and it
is hoped actually, has never reflected that perpetual fatigue soon
exhausts, and ultimately disables, animal energy.
The cart horse, moreover, being forced to quicken its pace, is urged
beyond the habits and the uses for which man has bred the creature.
It is compelled to execute a duty for the performance of which its
bodily formation renders it totally unsuited. The poor animal that is
called upon to fulfill opposite uses, generally endures the shorter
period: because of the excessive labor it is obliged to undergo. The
custom, therefore, accords with the saying, which illustrates waste
and extravagance, by supposing a candle to be lighted at both ends.
The wretched horse is now a cart horse, loaded to the extent of its
ability; next, it is expected to display the activity of a gig horse,
although it is harnessed to what badly represents the lighter vehicle;
while, the long day of continued toil being ended, the slave is
required to trot briskly homeward with a crowded load of human laborers.
The dismissed cart is generally well burdened, after the hour for
striking work has arrived. The men usually leave off their toil as
the first stroke of the clock is heard; but no such relaxation is
permitted to the creature which, of the many over-worked bodies, has
toiled the hardest and needs rest the most. The quietude of London
suburbs is regularly broken with the thud! thud! thud! produced by
the heavy shafts pulling down the chain, which has been jolted upward
by the ungainly trot of the tired slave. The sound declares the force
which falls every few moments upon the same part of a living spine. The
falling of a single drop of water, long continued, on the same place,
can occasion direst agony. The Inquisition illustrated that fact. But
the cart is heavier than many drops of water. Any one who has beheld a
spectacle of this description, can have hardly failed to observe the
faintness, mingled with suffering, which propels the load. The driver
commonly stands up near to the front; he jags the reins and loudly
cracks the long whip, that fright may quicken the movement of those
limbs which tire seems to glue to the stones over which they pass.
[Illustration: THE COMMON CAUSES OF RICK OF THE BACK IN HEAVY HORSES.]
Rick or chink in the back is, generally, generated by that want of
sympathy shown by the community of proprietors in regard to their
property in horse flesh. It would be a legitimate cause for wonder,
were horses not a hazardous investment, when breathing and living
frames are subjected to the united effects of ignorance and of
prejudice. Upon the earliest indication being perceived of the spine
having been badly injured, the horse should be instantly thrown up for
at least six months. The animal ought not to have a layer of pitch,
rosin, etc. smeared thickly over the back, and be turned out to take
its chance upon a green diet. But it should be placed in a roomy, loose
box: it should have the hair cut off close over the seat of injury,
and the place should be constantly moistened by means of cloths dipped
in a lotion, composed of tincture of arnica, two ounces, and water,
one pint. This remedy, with softened food of the most supporting kind,
should constitute the treatment for the first month of recovery.
At the end of that period, we may assume that inflammation has been
subdued; thereupon the measures adopted may be changed. Some compound
soap liniment should be rubbed on the surface every morning. Should
the application blister the skin, the liniment must be withheld for a
time; but so soon as friction can be quietly endured, the stimulant
must be renewed. All this while, the quadruped should be well fed;
but medicine should be strictly withheld, grass and bran mashes being
solely employed to regulate the bowels if their action be sluggish.
When morbid sensibility no longer exists in the spine, and moderate
pressure with the fingers can be borne upon the back, the liniment may
be discontinued; but the restoration is to finish with the repeated use
of liquid blisters. One side of the spine, near to the seat of injury,
is first to be acted upon; when the action of the vesicatory appears
to be subsiding, the other half of the back should be attacked. This
plan must be pursued till the fifth month has expired, the horse being
sustained upon the best and most nutritive food. After this period
has elapsed, a handful of ground oak bark should be mingled with each
allowance of provender. The animal, during all this time, never being
flurried, or allowed to leave its ample stable.
Upon recovery, the quadruped ought never to be employed for that same
kind of service in which the injury was received. No weight should,
subsequently, be placed upon the back; for the spine which has been
once injured, can never, by human art, be restored to its pristine
soundness. However greatly the animal may have been prized, even as
a hunter, it is safer and much more profitable to doom the steed to
the collar, in which last employment old hunters particularly delight
in exhibiting their highly-prized excellences of action. Many a horse
that appears in the London streets running before some brougham, and
which, by the gayety of its spirit, excites the admiration of the foot
passengers, will, after death, be found to have one or more bones of
the spine joined by osseous deposit, proving that the back, during
life, must have suffered serious injury.
Horse owners, however, should be very careful, not knowingly to risk
chink or rick of the back; for such an “accident,” according to its
intensity, may reduce the animal of fabulous price to an article which
shall literally be almost valueless. It brings down the steed which
excited universal envy, to the cripple which no honest man would sell,
and which no prudent man would keep. The mischief once established, too
often sets science at defiance, for the rick, when bad, is terribly apt
to terminate in fearful fracture of the spine.
[Illustration: THE PATENT TRACE-SHAFT.]
The above illustration is copied from the heading to a bill which
announces a patented invention, which is manufactured by Messrs. Gibson
& Co., of Coventry Street. The novelty consists in the shafts being so
made as to render the employment of traces unnecessary when the animal
is driven in single harness. The weight of the vehicle, or so much
of it as usually rests upon the back, is dependent entirely from the
collar. For horses troubled with any of those “vices” which indicate
the spine to be affected, this kind of harness affords, at all events,
the most rational hope of working such creatures without provoking the
annoying and the dangerous symptom.
When it is remembered that all animals which have been worn out under
the saddle, old hacks and hunters, are doomed to end their lives in the
more ignoble duties of propulsion, it is not surprising to find many of
the quadrupeds, sold for double or single harness, are affected with
those complaints which indicate the back to be disordered. The worst
exhibitions are confined to gig horses. Few carriage or brougham horses
are thus disabled; that fact almost proves the author’s inference, as
well as demonstrates the utility of that novelty which was in the last
illustration introduced to the notice of the reader.
As heavy quadrupeds are likely to be similarly diseased, the carter
should be informed of the fact, and cautioned against ever riding on
the backs of his teamsters. So also with lighter animals, the groom
should be forbidden to mount the horses which are very liable to this
misfortune. The shafts of a cart are of course calculated to aggravate
this malady; but such a horse may perform easy or reasonable labor
between the chains for a long succession of years; only, when the pull
is severe, the driver should go to the head of the disordered teamster,
to prevent any undue strain upon the back, or it would be certainly
better if, during the period of exertion, the chains were unhooked.
It is strange, when the importance of the spine to the utility of the
animal is considered, and when the well-known fact is regarded that
the lowest class of copers make a species of property out of horses
suffering from rick of the back, that this particular region receives
no special attention during a quadruped’s soundness being subjected to
the test of an ordinary veterinary examination! The creature’s head,
tail, eyes, teeth, shoulders, haunches, limbs, feet, etc. would all be
scrupulously investigated; but the back, on the soundness of which the
utility of the body must depend, would probably be only honored with a
passing notice.
Animals, however, which are ricked in the back, are generally sold
through one of those Horse Auction Marts that abound in the metropolis.
Such places offer great facilities to dishonest practices, and afford
much encouragement to the class of copers. These persons never care
to possess a sound horse. They have always some bargain ready to
be imposed upon a novice; and the ignorant in horse flesh are ever
eager to snap at any supposed “awful sacrifice.” The uninitiated is
a frequenter of auctions. Being there, he walks down the gangways,
staring at the equine chattels; going dangerously near to their heels,
but not venturing up to the head of any quadruped. It is not long
that this person is permitted to stroll unattended in such a sphere.
His notice is soon directed to “one of the right sort.” The groom is
ordered to bring the animal into the yard, and show “its action” to the
gentleman.
While the groom is putting on the bridle and removing the cloth, the
uninitiated accompanies his new companion into the yard. The coming of
the animal is soon announced by the cracking of numerous whips. The
poor creature is hurried and flurried about the little space outside
the stables, or it is made to prance and caper along the public street.
The intention is not to exhibit the natural pace, for no person
possibly could judge of a horse when the animal is thus circumstanced.
Fear will conceal the presence of disease, and the symptoms of alarm
are, in the quadruped, readily mistaken for the evidences of spirit.
The novice should shun such society; and the gentleman deserves small
pity who ventures into such a locality. Let the person who desires to
possess a horse, and who can afford to pay for the luxury he covets,
enter the premises of some respectable dealer. Let him be prepared to
exchange a fair sum for a sound and serviceable animal. Let him never
walk into the yard, and wait the appearance of the quadruped; but
rather let the would-be purchaser remain near the stall, and observe
attentively the groom while the man is putting on the bridle. Some
creatures are alarmed when a hand approaches the head--an indication,
either that the sight is imperfect, that severe punishment has been
inflicted, or that the brain may be diseased. This symptom also
warrants other suspicions; and it is never suggestive of health or of
good treatment. The precautions taken by the man, when going toward
the head, will also be characteristic, and may inform the spectator of
very much concerning the educated temper and disposition of the nag he
contemplates acquiring.
[Illustration: BACKING ON TO THE GANGWAY.]
Such things, however, being noted, the stranger must still retain
his situation. Some horses, though not absolutely “ricked,” are
nevertheless stiff in the back. Such quadrupeds are unpleasant to the
rider, and are unable to turn in the stall; but whenever their removal
becomes imperative, they are backed out on to the gangway, and then
turned toward the door. A stiffened spine can be no recommendation, but
it may fairly be accepted as evidence that the animal has either been
overweighted or has, in its time, done some hard work. It is invariably
detrimental to the value; for, the vertebræ being the base of the
anatomical body, their healthy condition is of the greatest possible
importance toward even an approach to soundness.
It is highly improbable that an animal with a decided rick of the back
should find admission into the stables of any respectable dealer; but
there are numerous places, termed Commission Stables, which a novice
unacquainted with names and localities may, from outward appearances,
easily mistake for premises of the purest character. Should the
imaginary personage, whose conduct the author has supposed to be
the subject of remark, have entered such a stable, much art will be
employed to persuade him to leave the building. If the gentleman should
be firm, and refuse to retire, possibly the proprietor may be seized
with a sudden fancy to show another horse; but any trick of this nature
will be readily detected, and the fresh animal, though subsequently led
into the yard, should never be looked at.
[Illustration: TURNING IN THE STALL.]
A horse cannot turn in the stall without twisting the back. Some
animals, however, can turn quickly in one direction, whereas an attempt
to flex the body the contrary way will produce the acutest anguish.
Therefore, when the groom bids the horse come round, the gentleman
should observe the mode in which the act is accomplished. Should the
quadruped’s head be turned from the door, such a fact may be regarded
as suspicious; for grooms always prefer the shortest roads, and
trivial matters, where horses are concerned, often lead to important
discoveries.
The diseases of the horse are not yet thoroughly understood. Mankind
have acquired a habit of accepting words, without insisting that the
ideas such terms represent shall be strictly defined. No word is more
common in the mouths of horsemen than “jibbing.” It, however, does not
specially imply one act; for there are many kinds of behavior which
are designated as “jibbing.” Thus, a horse which is unable to start,
is called “a jibber.” A quadruped which, in the middle of a journey,
shall be suddenly impelled to move in a backward direction, is said
to “jib.” The animal which, upon hearing the command to proceed, will
commence throwing up its head, and, spite of chastisement, shall bear
in the opposite direction, is also supposed to have learned the “vice”
of “jibbing.”
“Jibbing” of every kind appears to be no “vice,” but a nervous
disorder,--a sort of equine epilepsy. A word, spoken sharply, can
summon the attack, which generally deprives the animal of all power of
motion, or forces it to move in a direction the opposite of the road
on which it wishes to proceed. The movements are independent of the
will; and if any person will attentively inspect the countenance of
the horse, when in the act of “jibbing,” the author imagines the real
character of the supposed “vice” must be recognized. When “jibbing” is
exhibited, a spasmodic fit has possession of the frame. It is useless
to flog or to inflict other tortures. The attack will last a certain
time, and then, perhaps, suddenly vanish. No brutality can shorten its
duration, though cruelty, possibly, may lengthen the convulsion.
On such occasions, however, various cruelties are commonly perpetrated;
but severity has then lost its power to quicken timidity. The lash has
ceased to influence; while the human voice, though sent forth in volume
and exerted in the bitterest execration, no longer is invested with
the attributes of authority. The body is acted upon by a power higher
than mortal sway. The creature is then carried by disease above this
world’s malice. The whip or the signal to proceed may elicit only a
staggering motion, or a backward movement. At last the spell is broken.
The ability to guide the limbs suddenly is regained: but the brain is
congested and the senses confused. The creature, upon the first partial
recovery, may exhibit a desire to bolt--may, for an uncertain period,
be all but unconscious. Sometimes it will recover its powers suddenly,
almost as though its previous condition had been assumed. On other
occasions it may, under some impulse, tear onward, regardless of the
road, as though it sought to fly the scene of its late suffering, or
endeavor to lose the agony of convulsion in the rapidity of motion.
The probability that such an act may conclude the fit of jibbing,
instructs us in the folly of adding the irritation of man’s cruelty
to the pain necessarily accompanying acute disease. Severity can only
lend violence to the impulse which is almost certain to succeed the
attack. It may endanger the life of the driver, but it cannot shorten
the duration of the fit. Every kind of brutality has been speculated
in without effect. Such treatment, most probably, has prolonged
insensibility; for noise, confusion, or agony is not likely to be
sedative to the nervous system which a word has morbidly excited.
Yet such practices are generally adopted. Nay, the author has heard
of a professional man who, residing near London, possessed a fine
animal which was thus afflicted. This person actually had some straw
kindled under his quadruped’s body, and, to quicken what he called
“an obstinate vice,” partially roasted the breathing flesh of his
living property! So monstrous an artifice was successful on the first
occasion; but, upon repetition, it ceased to operate. Such a custom is
not unusual among the uneducated boors of distant villages; but the
writer had hoped that no vexation could have induced an individual,
possessing the most distant claim upon the name of gentleman, to adopt
so inhuman and useless a resort.
[Illustration: A POPULAR CURE FOR THE IMAGINARY VICE OF “JIBBING.”]
The horse is a gentle creature; it has no courage; it can display no
resolution. Its impulses always incline it to flee from danger. It is
made up of alarms, and a child’s puny hand may guide its huge strength.
But the history of the animal supplies too many instances where the
perversity of mankind has mistaken the prompting of disease for the
display of malice. It is disgraceful to the boasted civilization of
the present age that, while knowledge has much benefited every sphere
of human legislation, the errors, the practices, and the brutalities
of the last century should be in full operation,--where the scant
necessities of the most gentle, the most submissive, and the most
valuable of man’s earthly helpmates are concerned.
Jibbing is most common among harness horses, the faces of which are
disguised and partially concealed by the blinkers. Were the countenance
exposed, its expression could hardly be misinterpreted by any person
who cared to observe its indications. But nothing can obscure the
comprehension of mankind like prejudice. This weapon has been
frequently employed against the life of human beings; but animals, to
this hour, are tortured by its operation. Could the countenance of a
horse, when in the act of jibbing, be calmly contemplated, all belief
in “voluntary vice” would be at once dispelled. The eye is strained
inward; the teeth are firmly set; the nostrils are dilated; the
breathing is spasmodic; and the muscles are rigid.
There is, however, one symptom which, although expressive of terror,
agony, or faintness, all horsemen are agreed in regarding as the
declaration of a “vicious intention.” Such an indication is the
backward position of the ears, or the laying of those organs upon the
animal’s neck. The forward carriage, or the “pricking” of those members
is recognized as expressive of delight, of gayety, or of attention.
What, then, should the backward position truthfully signify? What
ought sense to imply, from the falling of a part the upright bearing
of which is interpreted to be the sign of liveliness? Yet, how many
tender-hearted gentlemen, abused by the prejudices they inherited,
will, when they observe the ears laid back, unhesitatingly cause the
lash to sting the body which, probably, was far from contemplating
mischief!
[Illustration: THE COUNTENANCE OF A HORSE DURING A FIT OF JIBBING.]
When an animal is thus afflicted, never pursue the course which
is usually adopted. All noise should be prevented; no flurry near
to or about the creature should be permitted. Do not use the whip
or jag the reins: relinquish both. Order those within the vehicle
immediately to dismount. Undo the bearing-rein: loosen the harness.
If possible, remove the quadruped from the shafts. Go to the head;
speak soothingly; pat and caress the agitated frame. Procure some cold
water; soak a thick cloth in the liquid, and lay it over the brain
and upon the eyes. Sponge out the mouth and nostril; then empty the
vessel, by dashing the remaining fluid into the animal’s face. When
the incapacitating stage is subsiding, have ready two powerful men,
who, placed at the head, shall prevent the disposition to bolt from
being indulged. This done, return the horse to the stable. Never hazard
riding behind a creature which has recently been afflicted with “equine
epilepsy.”
Such an animal is best put out of its misery at once, as the attempted
remedy occupies too much time, is too expensive, and is far too
uncertain in its result, to be prudently adopted. However, should
the horse be young, it may be kept on prepared food for eighteen
months--not turned out to grass; but stabled, properly exercised, and
fed on the best, in the hope that nature will, with maturity, banish
the disease. Such persons, however, as will drive a jibber, which
merely exhibits a tardiness at starting, should be particular never
to have the coat singed or clipped; for cold, acting upon the large
surface of exposed integument, is very likely to provoke an attack.
The horse, when brought to the door, should be briskly walked, and the
journey, when commenced, should never start off at a tearing pace; but
should begin most gently, and very gradually become more speedy. Such
treatment, with carefully prepared food, plenty of old beans, bran
mashes for laxatives, and an occasional tonic, is the best means the
author knows of to render the quadruped ultimately useful.
The power of kindness is, perhaps, shown most strongly in the case of
the horse thus affected. The love of the creature for the individual
who is fond of it, is not well or truly characterized when spoken of as
affection: it is something more than such a general term can represent:
it amounts to positive devotion. Even when the fit is strongest, and
all ordinary sounds are lost to the animal’s sense, the voice of the
person who has been constantly kind will evidently be responded to.
His caresses will soothe at a moment when the most potent pangs would
be powerless: his presence will restrain the wildness which naturally
ensues upon the first dawn of reviving consciousness. Whereas he who is
habitually a careless or a harsh master, in whose hand whip and reins
are equally instruments of torture, may, only by his appearance, induce
the attack; and his foot upon the vehicle is likely to generate the
agitation which shall assuredly bring on the disease.
But the man who would win the love of his steed, and is fond of the
animal, should be a frequent visitor to its abode. That simple or
negative quality which consists in the absence of actual cruelty, will
answer no end. The human being, thus distinguished, only elicits the
passive indifference by which his treatment is characterized. It is
feeling, which even in animals, responds to feeling. The horse and the
dog love those who like to take pains with them, or submit to trouble
for their sakes. The two animals are alike in this respect. How fond
the dog, which may for years have slept before the fire and grown
enormously fat upon the plentiful meals supplied by an indulgent but an
indifferent master,--how attached the animal speedily becomes to any
person who, though a stranger, will devote some time to the teaching of
little canine tricks! So also with the horse; the best way, indeed the
only way, to win the entire love of this creature, is to expend some
labor in brightening its intelligence.
To return to the matter at present especially under consideration.
The jibbing which is confined to a delay at starting may be annoying,
but it is seldom dangerous. The animal which merely moves backward,
when commanded to proceed, may vex the driver, but the malady, being
known, its consequences can, in a great measure, be guarded against.
There is, however, one form of this disease which renders any animal
very far from a safe possession. It is, where the horse will suddenly
stand still in the middle of a journey, and commence backing. The more
inopportune the place for such an exhibition, the more likely is the
visitation to be brought on. A crowded thoroughfare or a dangerous
road,--any incident calculated to excite or to alarm the steed, will
assuredly produce a display of the worst symptoms.
A medical gentleman, of whose acquaintance the author is justifiably
proud,--and whose practice laid upon the western coast,--one evening,
after a hard day’s work, which had tired all his horses and fairly
knocked up their master, was, before his boots were pulled off,
apprised that a wealthy lady, and resident eighteen miles distant from
his pharmacy, required his immediate attendance. There was no choice
but to obey such a summons. The gentleman’s own horses he could not
think of compelling over such a distance. Therefore the place was
scoured, and at last an individual was discovered who was willing to
lend, for a consideration, “the very best horse in the whole country.”
The doctor was soon mounted, and progressing to his destination,
at the rate of twelve miles an hour. The distance had nearly been
accomplished, when the road ran close to the sea. It was in fact
no more than a broad ledge cut in the side of a precipitous cliff.
This spot being reached, and the heart of the rider made glad at the
prospect of soon accomplishing his journey, the steed suddenly came to
a stand. It first trembled all over. The gentleman endeavored to soothe
the creature, which he perceived was suffering, but which he concluded
was alarmed. He was thus engaged, when the nag commenced to back
toward the sea. Whip and spur were tried to no purpose. The impulse
could not be checked or altered; and the writer’s friend, perceiving
his danger, had barely time to throw himself out of the saddle, when
the horse toppled over the cliff, and was discovered a mangled mass on
the following morning.
[Illustration: JIBBING.]
The various aspects which disease can assume, of course are multiform,
and unfortunately, these, when exhibited by the horse, are all exposed
to the arbitrary conclusions of prejudice. Men of education appear, in
all that concerns the stable, to passively resign their intellects into
the hands of the groom, and to be swayed by the hardihood of assertion,
or to be ruled by the conjectures of selfishness. Thus the declarations
of morbid sensibility are accepted and spoken of as the antics of the
“rankest vice.” “Jibbing” has been punished as the instigation of
malice; the chastisement has been inflicted without mercy, and has
continued for many ages; but cruelty has not been able to check the
exhibition of disease. The symptom is to this hour as general as it
was in previous centuries. It still delays the vehicle, after the
driver is ready to start: it often propels the wheels in a contrary
direction to that the coachmen desire they should travel: it commonly
stays the wayfarer, when eager to conclude his journey. At the door of
the mansion, in the public street and on the high road, the signs of
the malady are frequently to be witnessed.
So it is with the indications of various disorders. The horses of
the existing race of proprietors are, for a life, doomed to subsist
on the same substances: four or five times a day, dried grass, oats,
and a few beans are placed before them: some have chopped straw, and,
in exceptional cases, prepared food; but that being only allowed for
the last meal on Saturday night, does not interfere with the monotony
of diet. Now, a sameness in the articles consumed, as medical men
now recognize, disorders the digestion; but when aided by a want of
exercise, a total absence of amusement, and an impure residence,
perhaps no better means could be invented to derange the tenderest
radicles of being. The sympathy which exists between the stomach and
the skin is now so universally understood that it will generate no
surprise if the creature, thus housed, imprisoned, and sustained,
should be occasionally troubled with an obstinate cutaneous affection.
Stabled horses often are the victims of an acutely sensitive condition
of the integument. Yet the possible existence of such a state is never
admitted by the groom, because the affection is unaccompanied by any
outward sign. There is no tenderness displayed when the hand is laid
upon the body. The coat looks bloomingly. The scurf is not developed in
increased quantity. The hair does not prove loose or fall off. There is
nothing visible for ignorance to perceive. The animal feeds well, and
seems in the highest possible condition. The groom cannot, therefore,
believe in the presence of disease. Nevertheless, the quadruped may
acutely suffer, especially during the spring and autumn. It may even,
by the irritation, be provoked to gnaw large patches from the sensitive
covering of the body; but the more common form of the disease urges the
poor horse to destroy the heavy rug in which stable attendants are fond
of wrapping their charges, before quitting them for the night.
What precise form the irritation assumes, it is impossible to
ascertain; but no sooner is the quadruped clothed up, than it begins
to fidget. Its legs are in almost perpetual motion, and the body
repeatedly leans with violence against the trevise. The creature is
evidently uneasy, and the animal’s eye watches the groom until that
individual, having finished his work, retires to the consolation of the
adjacent public house.
No sooner is the animal certain of being alone, than it commences
to tear off the hateful clothing. Large portions are seized between
the teeth, and these are rent off with an energy which borders upon
madness. Nor is the mental fever, which actuates the horse, to be
pacified, so long as a vestige of the hated envelope remains to be
removed. The passion seems to be very engrossing while it exists; for,
during the period, anybody may enter the building, and even approach
the irritated quadruped, without his presence being observed. But,
the feat being ended, the creature looks around, seems to recover its
recognitions, nibbles different portions of its coat, licks the coolest
parts of its manger, being evidently thirsty, and ultimately lies down,
apparently well satisfied with its recent performance.
[Illustration: TEARING THE CLOTHING.]
The recognized remedy for such a condition does not regard the morbid
state out of which the destruction arises; but it consists in placing
upon the back of the horse a garment which shall pain the lips, tongue,
palate and gums when it is grasped by the teeth. Cloths of such a
description are manufactured of coarse horse-hair, and are commonly
kept by most harness-makers, so general is their adoption. After such
a fashion, the biting impulse may be sometimes checked; but there are
quadrupeds which seem to be goaded to still greater violence by the
device. Other animals, though the cloth of hair acts as a preventive,
become restless, and evidently pine under the remedy: their appetite
fails: their spirit vanishes, and their flesh wastes: nay, the author
has known the introduction of the favorite cure to be followed by an
internal and a fatal form of disease.
Why should all inhabitants of the stable be subjected to a sameness of
treatment? Why should all horses be expected to consume the same food;
to eat the like quantities of provender; to drink a particular amount
of water, and to be clothed in uniform, when left for the night? It may
please the eye of the groom to behold the animals all wrapped up and
bedded down to match, as he quits the stable for the night; yet, where
life is concerned, something stronger should regulate arrangements than
the gratification of a servant’s prejudice.
To propitiate the inclinations or the whims of a retainer, constituted
no part of the motive which caused the stables to be erected. Such
places are professedly built _for_ horses, and the animals, therefore,
should be primarily regarded. Yet, wherefore oblige a quadruped to be
covered up with a rug, when the creature, by a nightly destruction of
the wrapper, asserts the envelope to be objectionable? Why compel an
unwilling steed to endure that which is not requisite on the score of
decency; which cannot be adopted on any plea of appearance; and which,
in the most emphatic manner, is declared not pleasant to the life on
whose body it is suspended?
It is impossible to comprehend that the groom possesses any excess of
modesty which can be offended at the notion of a horse sleeping naked
in the stall; and if the absence of covering is agreeable to the party
which is principally concerned, it seems odd a reasonable being should
insist that a contrary practice shall be adopted. Still, persist these
individuals certainly do; and even carry their persistence to other
particulars. The skins of the equine race are as various in degrees
of sensibility as can be those of human beings. There do exist many
men who, for pleasure, first soak their bodies in warm baths, and
subsequently polish the cuticle with the hardest possible of flesh
brushes. Others would only be gratified were they daily rubbed down
with brick bats. On the contrary, there exist individuals on whom
a ruck in the finest linen will inflict a discomfort which, in its
intensity, almost amounts to an agony.
[Illustration: AN EXCITED HORSE’S MOUTH.]
So there are horses possessing hides to which may be applied with
impunity the sharpest and coarsest of curry-combs. But there also
live many animals having skins to which the oldest and bluntest of
those antiquated scratchers will occasion a sensation the acuteness
of which is testified to by the violence of resistance with which the
morning’s dressing shall be accompanied. Yet, rather than obey the
hint so energetically conveyed, or discard the employment of anything
with which use has familiarized them, the least venturesome of grooms
will brave daily danger. In vain does the irritated quadruped writhe,
frisk, stamp, kick, snap and bite, under the infliction; the servant
has been taught that a curry-comb is an instrument to be applied to the
skins of horses. The head will be tied up--the leg-strap employed; nay,
the hobbles and the twitch will be applied, before the lesson he has
learned to regard in his youth shall be discarded. Such tools of the
lowest routine are the ignorant in everything which does not involve
their personal gratifications.
[Illustration: A HORSE, HAVING A SENSITIVE SKIN, IS DRESSED BETWEEN THE
PILLAR-REINS.]
The consequence is, that because the animal, while being dressed,
cannot forbear biting at all objects which are near to it, the incisor
teeth rapidly lose the cutting edges, and become rounded. Such a shape
of the nippers used to be viewed as indicative of _crib biting_; but
the fallacy of this notion having been exposed, the idea is generally
abandoned. Nevertheless, an animal having rounded front teeth would
fare badly at an equine banquet where the provender had to _be cropped_
from the earth. It is, therefore, only prudent to prevent the creature
from spoiling its mouth. To accomplish this, remove the curry-comb;
for, should it be allowed to remain in the stable, the chances are very
strongly against the groom’s favorite tool being discarded. Have the
skin dressed with a penetrating brush; or, should that prove too sharp,
order it to be groomed very gently with the wisp and water brush.
Animals possessed of extremely sensitive skins generally carry very
fine coats; therefore they can well afford to dispense with very much
labor from their stable attendant.
The snapping may, from long indulgence, have become confirmed as a
habit. In that case, nevertheless, ameliorate the dressing; but, before
the groom undertakes the cleansing of the skin, the quadrupeds should
be fixed by two strong pillar-reins, each of which is of sufficient
length to reach, from opposite sides, to the middle of the dressing
stall. The head, thus bridled, is comparatively fixed, and is, of
course, fastened away from any substance which might be seized by the
teeth. However, the skin is sometimes, when thus tender, loaded with
a scurf which no curry-comb, however long it may be applied, will do
aught but increase. In this case, always change the provender, and
particularly see the food is properly prepared ere it is presented.
Give, daily, one ounce of liquor arsenicalis, in a pint of cold water;
and every morning damp the skin, _not the hair_, with a mixture
composed of animal glycerin, one part; rose-water, two parts.
For an animal that destroyed its rugs, the first measure is, to refuse
all further supply of such articles. Then attend to the food, after
the method already advised; next anoint the body with glycerin and
rose-water, subsequently employing a hay wisp regularly night and
morning. Place the animal in a cool, loose box, and, if possible, leave
both window and half the door open. When night arrives, permit the
quadruped, at its pleasure, to move in or out of the stable--allowing
a piece of rather closely bitten meadow land for exercise, when the
sun is down and the flies are at rest. Take the animal in before
insects begin to throng, which they seldom do till the sun has gained
full power. By way of medicine, daily give one ounce of liquor
arsenicalis, in a pint of cold water, together with one quart of good
(not publican’s) beer. Keep the bowels regular with bran mashes or
with green meat. There can be no necessity why all labor should be
relinquished: the work, however, ought not to be excessive, or the
pace too exhausting; for any extraordinary exertion is apt to lead to
excoriations which are, in their turn, disposed to end in large and
obstinate sores, when the skin is in an irritable condition.
Every part of the horse is of importance to the owner: the teeth
are not secondary to the feet; the legs are of no less value than
the lungs; and the skin cannot be esteemed more lightly than the
eyes. Indeed, every rider ought to make himself acquainted with the
appearances natural to the healthy eye of the horse; for a shying
steed will effectually destroy the pleasure of an entire day. The
horseman should notice the eyes of every animal he intends to mount.
As a precaution, such a measure is imperative; for, being forewarned,
he may be prepared to encounter the danger into which defective vision
is almost certain to lead the rider. For the method of proceeding,
when examining the eyes of a horse, the reader is referred to the
“Illustrated Horse Doctor,” (pp. 49 and 56,) wherein the proper plan is
amply detailed.
The reason for recommending what the reader may regard as a troublesome
acquisition and a strange knowledge for a gentleman to bore over, is,
because those livery stable-keepers who let horses out to strangers,
can hardly be expected to maintain a very valuable stud for such
purposes. It is not asserted that these tradesmen knowingly send out
very defective animals; but they could not, perhaps, in the way of
business, warrant, as decidedly sound, any inhabitant of their stables.
The eyes are the parts which generally fail. Exposed to a tainted
atmosphere and fixed close to a whitened wall, when at home; wearing
blinkers unpleasantly near to the organs, when abroad; while, at other
times, they carry a saddle, having the eye exposed to the full glare
of the sun,--it is not a subject for wonder that bodies so sensitively
endowed and delicately organized should become diseased.
Added to the natural results of such causes is the treatment
experienced from brutal and ignorant fellows, whom a few shillings have
invested with a whip. Such persons are fond of slashing the horse over
the head, and may thus produce partial opacity of the cornea. (See
“Illustrated Horse Doctor,” p. 46.) The effect of imperfect vision
is to create alarm in a highly imaginative but an excessively timid
animal. Shying is the consequence, and this act is as various in its
developments as its causes may be numerous. Probably this will be best
explained by relating a circumstance which, a few years ago, occurred
to a friend of the author’s.
A young gentleman, native of Ireland, complained one street was so like
another, that though he should live a thousand years in London, he
should still see nothing of the town. He wished to view the suburbs to
ascertain the situation of the metropolis; with this purpose in view,
he, one afternoon, hired a horse at a West End livery stables, and
trotted upon the Uxbridge Road. Everything went pleasantly till steed
and rider had reached Ealing Common, when, there being nothing in view,
the gentleman gave the quadruped its head, and allowed it to proceed at
its own pace. The pair, however, had only gone a short distance, when,
from some motive not recognizable to human perception, the creature
was seized with a violent fit of “swerving;” or, in other words, it
suddenly left the road, and, moving sideways, began describing a rather
wide semicircle upon the common, which was, at the place, fortunately
smooth and level.
But Ealing Common appears to be a favorite spot with laundresses, who
there hang out their wet linen. The rider was dragged under one of
the lines, loaded with damp clothes, while his horse pushed against
an elderly washerwoman, and, spite of her screams and resistance,
propelled her a considerable space. The gentleman, almost thrown by the
unexpected motion of his nag, and half smothered by the wet garments,
which clung about his head, was wholly at a loss to comprehend the
cause of the female screams, rendered yet more discordant by the shrill
cries of her terrified grandson.
[Illustration: SWERVING.]
When, however, he understood everything, a donation calmed the
agitation of the female, while, hastening to a roadside inn, he found a
man who was willing to take the horse back to the livery stables. The
rider returned by another conveyance, and he has never since trusted
himself outside an unknown animal.
Swerving, however, is no more than a mild form of shying, when compared
with the numerous evils which result from defects of the visual organs.
Every possible variety of eccentric gait is not to be imagined, much
less is it to be described. One consequence of this peculiarity,
perhaps the worst shape it can assume, is bolting or running away.
When a horse is thus impelled, it is, as was insisted upon in the
“Illustrated Horse Doctor,” useless to tug at the reins or to slash
with the whip. Such acts may aggravate the peril, but they cannot check
the movement, which originates in a dread that lifts its victim above
all earthly restraints. The brain is then excited and confused; the
pain, which the body shall fail to recognize, nevertheless may prove an
additional stimulant to the wildness that approaches near to positive
despair.
The quadruped is not to blame. It has been guilty of no fault. Its
behavior may displease its present master; but the horse has no ability
to struggle with a fear which was generated by disease. The alarm
was the offspring of a cause beyond the aid of medicine and removed
from the help of surgery. Such an animal, however, should not be left
entirely to its fate; for “running away” is apt to become more frequent
upon repetition. The eyes, thus afflicted, should be covered when the
quadruped is taken abroad; for it is safer to sit behind a creature
which is sightless, than one which is possessed only of a dangerous or
of an imperfect vision.
Then, to explain the motives for that forbearance and to render clear
the prudence of that gentleness which the reader has been recommended
to practice. Let it be inquired, can pain be esteemed a corrective of
terror? It was an apprehension of suffering which created the alarm.
To render such a dread a reality, does not appear to be the readiest
method of dispelling the feeling which has been generated by the
imaginary possibility of agony being encountered. The quickest plan by
which any particular sensation can be destroyed, certainly is to excite
another emotion that is the opposite of the one we are desirous should
be dispelled. Then awaken an assurance of security, and, of course,
alarm is annihilated. It may not be a popular or an heroic line of
treatment which the author has presumed to propose; but, assuredly, the
safest way to destroy a fear is to kindle an emotion which shall be
antagonistic to that it is desirable to remove.
Such conduct, however, would be directly opposite to what is at present
generally exemplified by the majority of mankind. A horse bolts, or it
runs away, and the act is hastily concluded to originate in a “vicious
propensity” which the animal delights in indulging. The creature is
spoken of as a “bolter.” The topmost speed and the blindest flight is,
by equestrians, regarded as the gratification of a malicious spirit,
and, thus considered, only elicits a firm resolution to subdue its
exhibition at every hazard. The reins are sawn and the whip is plied,
until agony has driven terror to madness, and some awful disaster puts
a termination to the unsightly proceeding.
The following is intended to be an accurate representation of
an incident which the author witnessed, some years ago, in the
neighborhood of Holloway. In the issue, however, no person was injured;
even the horse escaped unharmed. It would have been difficult to say
which of the principal actors was the most frightened. Probably the
alarm of each was as great as it was possible to be; but the breakage
of the shafts, the rupture of the traces, and the snapping of the
reins mainly secured the immunity of all. No one, having seen the
aspect borne by the event at one time, could have foretold how it was
to terminate; assuredly the fortunate result was not facilitated by
the gentleness or the self-possession of the driver. That person did
his best, no doubt without the intention of whipping up a catastrophe:
he acted according to the recognized rules; but it was owing to the
reflection such a scene gave rise to that the author was led to
recognize the folly of that behavior which is generally displayed under
the like alarming circumstances.
[Illustration: RUNNING AWAY.]
Before concluding the present chapter, the reader is earnestly
counseled to discard the many foolish tales he may have heard about the
horse being naturally a “vicious animal.” What reward is reaped from
the indulgence of the creature’s imaginary designs? Death, injury, or
disfigurement! Such consequences might ensue upon the promptings of
insanity; but no one, however, has supposed that madness instigated
the conduct which man recognizes as “vice” in the horse. There is, in
the world’s opinions, a wide distinction separating the mad horse from
the “vicious brute.” The attributed “vice” is certainly not recognized
as madness, although it may be accompanied by the temporary absence
of consciousness. The vicious acts display too great a similarity
throughout the entire equine race, distributed over the world, to be
reconciled with the presence of recognition; while they are too regular
in their development and far too heedless in their execution to accord
with the promptings of any wicked disposition which would be dependent
upon individual inclination.
Then, the sameness which pervades the entire group of supposed
“equine vices,” cannot be reasonably accounted for in accordance with
the popular belief. In the human being, each example of a vicious
disposition is conspicuous for adopting an independent and an eccentric
course of action, though it occasionally practices imitation. Can
animals instruct or mimic one another? Have horses, only, the power
to communicate “vice” to their companions? Can they, only, teach
self-mutilation, and learn suicide? That is not to be credited. But
will the reader, viewing them as inferior beings, consider the conduct
of all as regulated by the impulses of instinct, generated by sudden
emotion? Then, sameness is by no means extraordinary. Eating is in man
an instinctive act. The modes of preparing food are various, and the
methods of its division are as dissimilar in different nations,--for
these actions are shaped by conviction or by reason; but the manner in
which the instinctive portion of the act is performed, the way in which
the sustenance is masticated and is swallowed, though in some degree
influenced by refinement, is mainly similar in all regions, and in
every race of human beings.
To run away from danger is an instinct in a horse. The animal does not
fly from battle, only because man has deceived it into a faith that
there is no danger where gunpowder is consumed. Terror renders the
animal blind and unconscious. It has no more power to check the last
effect than it has ability to contend against the first consequence.
Pain induces a natural desire to escape from the cause of suffering.
Its wish may be gratified at the sacrifice of property; but property
is an artificial institution, of which most animals have hitherto
refused recognition. Sameness of cause generally induces like results.
Idleness leads to mischief; satiety promotes waste; terror generates
alarm; and itching provokes scratching. These acts in the animal may be
imprudently indulged; but the horse, having no conception of a future,
of course cannot nicely calculate probabilities. Thus, if we run
through the list of the so-called “vices,” each will admit of a very
easy and of a remarkably ready solution.
Let no man, therefore, speak of a “vicious horse.” Let no reasonable
being so far forget himself as to attribute design as a motive to
the creature which nature has endowed only with instinct. Needless
torture, though inflicted on a brute, rebounds to strike humanity. But
mankind have not yet so emerged from barbarism as to have entirely lost
all relish for those prejudices which justify cruelty. The written
history of the world is the sad record of a long struggle midst blood
and suffering. Only of late years have men dared to relax the laws,
and only recently have they sought to lessen crime, by educating
the debased to perceive the beauty of goodness. Might not a similar
spirit, applied to horses, diminish the number and lessen the fatality
of equestrian accidents? At all events, such a suggestion deserves
a trial. It should be experimented with, if not for its novelty,
because it proposes the adoption of behavior which must gratify the
better feelings of the master, and because it holds forth a reasonable
prospect of decreasing some of the more serious evils by which human
life is, at the present moment, too frequently endangered.
Before joining in the cry against equine vice, always investigate the
act which is adduced to justify the prejudice. Do this quietly. Look
fairly at the surrounding circumstances, and think how these might
possibly act upon a timid and a non-reasoning creature. Find out the
cause, if possible; because, by so doing, you will best serve your
own interest. Knowing the cause, it is probable you may eradicate the
effect. But, before this is undertaken, the party must be prepared
to exercise his utmost patience; for animals are slow to learn, and
have to conquer their terrors before they can exemplify the easiest of
lessons. Only, once taught, they are retentive scholars; and, by the
pride they evince in their acquirements, reward their instructor.
To stimulate the proprietor unto that course of conduct which is
recommended above, it surely must be sufficient to remind him that the
opposite method has been long as it has been most perseveringly tried.
Severity, however, although enthusiastically exemplified, notoriously
has only imperiled man, without in any way amending the habits of the
animal. Therefore the reader is asked, if it is reasonable to continue
the proceeding which, having been largely tested, has induced nothing
but misfortune?