GROOMS--THEIR PREJUDICES, THEIR INJURIES, AND THEIR DUTIES.
Grooms, if generally the most loose of servants, are, by the middle
classes, morally subjected to the worst treatment of all the domestics.
In the larger number of the purely “_genteel_” families, they occupy an
intermediate and an uncertain position. Few of them live in the house;
but all of this order have household duties to perform. Very many have
to clean the family boots; to rub up the mahogany; to polish the plate;
to wait at table; and to fill those multifarious offices which every
woman is certain no female ought to discharge “while there is a great
hulking fellow on the establishment.”
The author does not altogether dissent from the somewhat coarse
conviction just recorded. Where a single conveyance and one horse are
kept, folly alone could pretend that these can, or should, occupy the
entire services of a male retainer. It is far from unreasonable to
impose other duties upon the man: only the horse and the stable should
be allowed to have the foremost claim upon the groom’s attention.
Whereas, at the present time, the animal is made secondary by the
authority of the mistress; its attendant is too often so crippled with
multifarious employments that it is at chance times only an opportunity
is found to discharge the obligations of the domestic’s nominal office.
In suburban villas, where only one man is kept, the groom often is
expected, over and above the foregoing list of duties, to keep a garden
in order. To be sure, the vast majority of genteel grooms understand
quite as much about horticulture as they really comprehend concerning
horses. If asked for their qualifications with respect to the latter,
they assume a look half insolent and half indignant before answering,
“They have lived ’mong osses all their lifes.” The author was born in
a house, and he has lived among houses till his hair is white, and
age has more than begun to tell upon his activity; but he does not,
therefore, esteem himself qualified to comprehend all about those
structures.
Still the suburban groom can dig in manure; can dibble holes into
soft ground, and can drop seeds therein; can stick peas, and can top
beans; can tie up flowers, and can gather in fruit; so, to the height
of his mistress’s requirements, he is better than a person of loftier
qualifications. If any garden produce should thrive, it is hailed as
the evidence of Thomas’s ability; should aught totally fail, the loss
is attributed to the influence of the season. Thus credited for the
good and shielded from the bad, it is scarcely cause for wonder should
Thomas increase in fame, or soon grow to regard himself as perfection
in the gardening capacity.
To recompense for the extra toil of servitude, the country groom
takes his place at the kitchen table, and is thereby saved from many
temptations to which the London outdoor domestic is necessarily
exposed. He can occupy a chair before the kitchen fire when the day
and the day’s work has ended. In such places there is never any lack
of conversation, while the conduct of master, of missus, and of the
family is open to criticism. But the town groom knows nothing of such
enjoyments; he may leave his horse, during the day, for the performance
of domestic duties, but, after dark, it is essential to his master’s
peace of mind that the man should be thought located in the stable.
Within the last-named place he has a solitary room allotted him, which
lies immediately under the slates and directly over the coach-house.
If he has a family, his wife and children have to share the one small
apartment, within which has to be performed the sleeping, the cooking,
the eating, and the washing of the home clothes, to which, very
frequently, is added the soiled linen of some patronizing neighbor.
Within such a spacious residence, devoted to so many and to such
opposite uses, a human being is expected to live and to thrive; to be
healthy and to regard the place as his haven of domestic felicity.
Scientific investigation, however, has demonstrated that a London mews
affords the most unwholesome abiding-place which is to be found within
the limits of the metropolis. With only slates above to ward off the
summer’s parching heat, or to keep out the winter’s biting frost; with
the huge lungs below constantly vitiating the atmosphere of the place,
it is no reason for surprise if the woman soon becomes a quarrelsome
hag; if the children grow “fractious” imps; while the man learns to
shun his home, and to practice arts which are needed to supply his
extravagances elsewhere.
Undermine the bodily health, and assuredly the moral principle has a
tendency to give way. Squalor is not friendly to the maintenance of
probity. This fact is illustrated by nations as well as exemplified
among individuals. The most necessitous are, as a tribe, always the
most dishonest; but healthy poverty does not always indicate the
keenest craving. The millionaire may be more greedy than the pauper.
Yet when want arises from a loss of health, the desires generally
increase as the powers of enjoyment diminish. The sicklier the
neighborhood, the more criminal are its inhabitants. Among a people
emaciated by disease, the exemplification of virtue is an exception, as
witness the fearful sins which invariably accompany the visitation of
devastating epidemics.
When in town, the one groom’s duties necessitate he should be up before
the family have opened their eyes; his functions are nearly discharged
when master’s dinner table has been cleared. The morning he is supposed
to occupy by attending to the horse. The evening he is imagined to
pass in the bosom of his family, or, if single, in solitude; but
always in his home over the stable. Before his employer’s breakfast,
and subsequently to the “Guv’nor’s” evening repast, the man is, by an
amiable fiction, conjectured to be laudably engaged; although, at such
times, a sickly being and a disordered mind is freed from the restraint
of authority.
The homes of too many London stable-men are such abodes as no life
should reside in. The place may be crowded with the elements of
happiness: in it may exist wife and children; but to it can be attached
none of those characteristics which should hallow domesticity. A
noxious vapor at all times prevails; this undermines the health, and
gradually saps the soul’s integrity. The impurity of the atmosphere
induces a languor which almost compels a resort to stimulants. The
man’s evenings are his leisure hours; but what choice is there to him
between the blazing fire, with the cheerful society of the tap-room,
and the inadequacy of accommodation or the “fractiousness” of debility,
that are the chief attractions of the room which is over the stable?
A genteel groom’s wages range from one pound one to one pound ten
shillings per week, together with outside clothes and an unwholesome
lodging. The better class give the higher sum; but the vast majority
of London grooms do not receive much more than the first amount. How,
then, on so small a wage, can the men afford to visit so frequently the
bar round the corner? In the first place, job masters, or men who let
out carriage horses, retain persons whose duty it is to call round at
the stable and see how the creatures are progressing. These men spend
large sums in “treating” grooms; where an animal of a known delicate
constitution is placed, their calls are proportionately numerous, and
their “tips” are uniformly liberal.
A tradesman cannot look into a stable without inviting the presiding
ruler of the place to take a “parting cup.” There is no class of
masculine servants who levy “black mail” so universally and so
unmercifully as they of the London mews. The groom, therefore, does
not pay for half of the much he swallows; and to liquidate his
disbursements, he collects an ample revenue. Five per cent., over and
above the perpetual “treats” and gratuities, is the general tax on all
the bills which his master pays.
Of the oats, many grooms claim a partner’s share. On the services, all
exert the larger right. Nay, even fashion, perverse and capricious
to other people, seems to pander to the wishes of the stable. The
animal delights in a flowing mane and tail, which not only beautify
the creature, but serve to guide the motions, to fan the body, and to
flap away the insects. The groom, however, regards the long horse-hair
as his property, and, to aid his views, there exists an instrument
the use of which is to extract the equine adornment without exciting
suspicion. Few gentlemen’s horses appear with the mane or the tail in
a natural condition, and genteel prejudice sneers at the profusion on
which tribute has not been levied. Thus, while the quadruped lives, it
breathes to enrich him who is engaged to tend the animal.
Nothing can enter the door on which an acknowledgment is not demanded,
while nothing can leave the premises which is not regarded as the
groom’s lawful perquisite. The first maxim commences with the
newly-purchased animal; the last terminated with the carcass which was
drawn out of the stable.
For the servant’s shortcoming, however, the master is to blame. It is
neither morally right nor socially just to debase a man by exposing
him, for the sake of convenience, to the certainty of enervation, while
you place him in a situation of trust and of authority. Perhaps few of
human kind are fitted to uprightly support the double responsibility;
but, certainly, he commits a sin who invests another with such powers
and then turns poor frailty into an exhausting atmosphere, removed from
the possibility of supervision, and exposed to those temptations, while
the employer’s act has deprived his menial of the energy requisite for
successful resistance.
The groom, for the convenience of the master, is forced to stand where
man is not fit to be placed. He is despotic over the lives which
cannot complain; he is the occupant of a home which is incompatible
with health; he has property at his command, which it is impossible to
check; with much idle time, he is surrounded by the examples and by the
temptations of vice. His wages, however, are barely sufficient for the
most rigid economy. The money he receives is certainly not fitted to
satisfy the demands of the smallest extravagance. What justification
can be urged in behalf of that educated gentleman who bribes an
uneducated dependent to occupy so corruptive a position?
From the disinclination of employers to adequately discharge their
duties, assuredly spring the many vices which beset the majority of
London stables. In the country, where things are managed with less
of systematic formality, and where the groom lives with the servants
of the family, the same corruptions do not prevail. Tradesmen, away
from the metropolis, give Christmas-boxes; they likewise occasionally
“treat” and “tip,” but the custom has not degenerated into a tax;
neither is the ruler of the stable paid five per cent. on the master’s
bills; nor is the man thus bribed to promote that extravagance which is
detrimental to the interest he has engaged himself to serve.
These things cannot be amended with the present race of grooms. They
are corrupt beyond all hope of reformation. With new material, a new
system must be established. The servant should be accommodated with a
wholesome home. Such might be cheaply built, but it ought not to be
crowded into a corner of the horse’s dwelling. It should be distinct
from the stables, and ought to possess two windows, from which the
horses might be overlooked. One should open from the sitting-room, the
other from the sleeping-chamber. The wages at present paid may be ample
for one man’s food, but no money can satisfy the unhealthy gnawing
generated by a contaminated domicile. To permit a human being to marry,
when his earnings will not support a family; then to thrust wife and
children into one small room, the air of which is vitiated, naturally
leads to the want of integrity, which, properly regarded, is in its
effects no more than the consequences of injustice rebounding to strike
the wrong-doer.
Against the proposal to erect distinct apartments will certainly be
urged the expense which must be necessitated by such a measure. But
when the year’s accounts are settled, it might be found less costly to
liquidate all needful charges than to feed the continual drain which
the present custom creates. However, the wealthy have no right to urge
their parsimony when the health of an inferior should be the sole
consideration; but it ought to be recognized as a religious obligation
to sacrifice personal gratifications rather than to purchase our
pleasures by the corruption of those whom Providence has permitted to
exist as our dependents. The police, who are empowered to enforce the
observance of certain decencies in the lodging-houses of the poor,
should also be authorized to watch, that the regulations necessary to
the conservancy of health and life are not violated to propitiate the
parsimony of the wealthy.
The last word of the foregoing sentence is employed to denote that
species of possession which should appertain to all of those who,
according to the well-known definition of the witness on Thurtell’s
trial, merit the term of “_respectable_.” To those establishments in
which only one servant (generally without the assistance even of a
stable-boy) is retained, the following remarks are chiefly directed.
Where numerous domestics are retained, over whom a stud groom or even
a coachman presides, no specific rules are required to be laid down.
The larger stables are, for the most part, variously but admirably
ordered. These sin only inasmuch as he who governs shares the ignorance
which pervades all modern society. But the animal suffers from other
causes in the simply genteel establishment. Two grooms can better
attend even to six horses than one man can do all which a single
quadruped requires. For instance: how can any domestic lead the
creature to exercise, and, while he is thus employed, also freshen up
the stable during the period of his absence?
Every groom should be allowed a lad, for the above reason. Where only
one animal is kept, few metropolitan stables are fit abodes for either
man or horse. These are both retained for the labor each can perform;
but, to exert this labor, a healthy residence is in both cases of equal
importance. To show the reformation which in the great majority of
London stables is imperative, the next engraving is introduced; and it
is seriously recommended to the consideration of the public, not as
a luxury or as an appendage to affluence, but as an alteration which
would be favorable to absolute economy.
[Illustration: A MODERN STABLE, AS IT MAY BE ADAPTED AND IMPROVED.]
The above plan supposes the entire space occupied by a London stable
to be appropriated to its legitimate purpose. Within the building
no “groom’s room” is crowded. The interior of the horse’s apartment
extends “clear up” to the roof. Such a height may, when contrasted with
existing places of a like description, appear enormous; but before
that opinion can be established, those purposes to which the house is
devoted have to be considered.
A stable into which four inconvenient stalls were crowded may be
converted into a receptacle for three small loose boxes, each measuring
six feet eight inches broad by sixteen feet deep. The divisions are
similar to those alluded to in the previous chapter; but the first two
boxes must be passed through before the third can be reached. There is
no gangway, and the door opens into the first compartment, through one
box being the only passage to the others. This is inconvenient; for it
necessitates that when a quadruped has to be taken out, all the horses
between it and the entrance should be previously haltered and fastened
up to the farthest side, or to where the manger was originally erected.
The hay-loft, instead of being directly over the horses, is separated
from the animals by a stout wall. This arrangement obliges that the
provender should be fetched as it is wanted; but it also provides
that the food shall not be contaminated before it is offered to the
quadrupeds. The vehicle is likewise removed from the possibility
of soil; and the coach-house contains a stove, of the kind called
“slow-consuming.” Connected with this fire is a boiler, from which hot
water pipes diverge. Above the coach-house, the space is divided into
hay-loft, etc.
The annual cost of a coach-house and stable in the best parts of London
is thirty pounds. A house of the proposed dimensions, where the rent is
highest, would necessitate an annual outlay of fifteen pounds extra.
Such an amount might be easily saved from the present expenditure,
while the horses would be better lodged, and last the longer; the
carriage would be better housed, and not require renovation so
frequently; the food would be kept sweeter, and not be as often wasted
as eaten; the servant would possess a healthy home; while the master
could not but gain, by the better strength and amended feelings of his
dependents.
But before such changes can be witnessed, gentlemen must have released
their minds from the fetters of fashionable custom. The prevailing
folly, which insists that every groom shall be a stunted affectation,
is a stain upon the boasted enlightenment of the present period. It
is true, a light weight is essential in a jockey; but men of station
should be above aping those necessities which the trainer laments being
obliged to obey.
To ride, is the last qualification required in most grooms, and it is
one which few of the existing deformities can properly perform. The
horses, when exercised, should not be mounted, but should be led; and
height is an advantage when this is being performed. The animals are
likewise more readily dressed by a tall man; for many a quadruped is
rendered restive by the mingled fuss and spite vented on their charges
by the modern diminutives.
There is, however, one groom, whose weight should not much exceed
eleven stone. This is the pad groom, whose peculiar duty it is to
ride after his master or mistress, when either indulge in equestrian
exercise. The man, being a personal servant, should be active and
attentive. When on the road, he should follow his employer at such a
distance as will prevent him from overhearing conversation, and will
render it impossible for the horse he is riding to challenge or to
excite the animal on which his superior is mounted. At the same time,
he should be sufficiently close to observe the slightest action of his
employer; and, so soon as his master shall stop, he ought to appear on
the off side, ready to hold the rein while the gentleman dismounts.
The nag is, however, at the present time more the property of the
servant than of the proprietor. It is more ridden by other persons
than by its nominal master. The groom rides to exercise; the smith
rides from the forge. When a message is sent, the servant never walks;
if a parcel has to be fetched or left, the man always carries it upon
another’s back than his own. In short, the steed has to work whenever
the hired domestic is employed beyond the walls of the mansion.
Now, to work the master’s horses is no part of his duties who is
engaged to attend upon the inhabitants of his master’s stables. It
may be more pleasant to ride; but which, does he imagine, would prove
most advantageous to the animals? To him whose province it is to “look
after” the quadrupeds, their welfare ought to be more studied than
his personal convenience. There is an accepted maxim about “serving
two masters;” but this is that which all horses have to do; and very
often the tyrant of the mews is far more exacting than the ruler of the
mansion. People, before they complain of the expense attendant upon
keeping a small stud, should ponder over the foregoing facts; for where
two duties have to be simultaneously discharged, we may anticipate that
health will occasionally fail, and “accidents” will frequently occur.
Gentlemen are not safe, if they mount horses which have not received
the morning’s exercise. Grooms are seldom to be absolutely depended on
for the invariable discharge of early duties. Hence arise the majority
of those terrible misfortunes which condemn wide circles to adopt
sad-colored garments. When the master is thrown, the servant’s neglect
is too frequently the cause of the supposed “accident.” Therefore,
where saddles are much employed, the stable attendant should never
be free from all supervision during the performance of his essential
duties.
After long confinement within a tainted atmosphere, the pure air seems
to intoxicate the inhabitants of the stable. People, subsequent to
severe sickness, generally suffer when first leaving the house. But a
human chamber is kept ventilated, and the patient commonly sits near an
open window before venturing abroad. The equine apartment is always
foul, and during the night it generally reeks with impurity. The food
and the drink of the animal are simple in the extreme. Its limbs, while
in the stall, are motionless. No wonder, therefore, if sudden action
and the inhalation of untainted atmosphere act in a strange manner upon
a sensitive and delicately-organized body. The creature’s senses are
not to be measured by human perceptions; neither are its acts to be
accounted for by appealing to the conduct of its master. We must reason
temperately, and accept the mute behavior as strongest evidence. Then,
all horsemen must have remarked the excited caperings which signalize
the first release of the horse from its unwholesome abode. During such
a time the saddle cannot be a desirable seat; neither can we assert how
soon the quadruped is free from its excitement, nor what circumstances
may induce a renewal of the extraordinary exhibition.
The next thing to be desired is, that those persons who do not
employ a stud groom should find some one to represent this important
functionary. Where groom and coachman are kept, it is easy to invest
the coachman with authority; for the servant is always a severe
task-master to his fellow. When groom and coachman are united, the
proprietor should pay more than visits of ceremony, at regular periods,
to his stables.
Grooms, however, dislike to be overlooked. They constantly assert a
stable is “no place for a gentleman;” and aping outward respect, they
manage to render this opinion influential. When the proprietor appears
in the stable, all work ceases. The groom stiffens with the most rigid
propriety. Under a pretense of duty, he dogs his employer’s steps. He
answers in monosyllables, and in a low voice. The face grows unpleasant
in the blankness of its expression. He will not talk; he will not work;
he will only watch his master, with an air partly of offense, partly
of mystery. The gentleman soon grows uncomfortable; and there is small
cause for surprise should the proprietor, having been thus treated, be
in no hurry to repeat the visit.
The stable is then relinquished entirely to the servant. There, the man
fears no eye observing his actions; and he knows there is no tongue
to report his behavior. Before an uneducated individual is thus left
in unchecked authority, it were well to think if his surroundings are
of a character which neither passion nor malice could convert into
instruments of danger.
The attention should be seriously given to the banishment of steel from
every tool employed about the horses. Those who are not in the secrets
of such matters cannot imagine how many injuries, which are reported
and accepted as “accidents,” are really wounds willfully inflicted
during moments of irritation.
An instant’s reflection will, however, convince the least credulous
reader of the feasibility of the above assertion. Stable-men usually
pass their evenings at an adjacent public house. After a night’s
endeavor to sleep in a foul atmosphere, their duties oblige them to be
early risers. They enter the stable, having their stomach upset; with
their temper consequently unhinged, and in no mood to attend upon the
wants of an unsympathetic animal. At such moments the iron tools must
be employed, and the lightest of these things can inflict the most
terrible injuries. The stable fork is commonly spoken of as a dangerous
weapon. The man may be removing the bed with this implement, when he
mutters, “kim ovare.” The horse does not hear or does not understand
the command. The order is shouted out in the topmost key of an angry
voice. Fear incapacitates the quadruped for obedience. The arm is
raised before the creature has recovered; and a blow from a pitchfork
will leave a fearful mark behind.
[Illustration: “KIM OVARE.”]
To avoid such “accidents,” banish the use of metal from within the
stable. All requisite implements can be made of horn or of hard
wood. To scrape the perspiration off the body of a horse, a slip of
whalebone will leave nothing to be desired; to toss up or to carry
away thirty-six pounds of loose straw, tough wood may answer as well
as iron. The curry-comb will scrape enough, if composed of horn;
although, save in exceptional cases, and under veterinary advice, such
an implement of torture is better abolished, for it generates the scurf
which its constant use is thought to remove. The man can work longer
and accomplish more with a hair cloth, a brush, and a whisk. Should the
skin appear dry or scurfy, forbear to irritate it with the curry-comb.
Moisten it the night before with the following preparation; on the
ensuing morning dress the animal with the utmost gentleness.
_Preparation for a scurfy skin._
Animal glycerin One part.
Rose-water Two parts.
Mix.
A small teacupful of the above should be sufficient to moisten the
entire body of a horse; for the skin, not the hair, requires merely to
be lightly damped with a small bit of sponge. To execute this properly
occupies considerable time; it cannot be quickly performed. But if
this is done occasionally, the integument will continue soft; for the
effect of glycerin, as a wash for the skin, cannot possibly be too much
confided in. Should the smell of the animal glycerin prove offensive,
the property may be overcome by adding to the mixture a sufficiency of
any cheap essential oil. To harness horses, however, animal glycerin is
not so powerful as to necessitate any corrective.
A further benefit will be secured by the banishment of the curry-comb.
Those noisy and unseemly contests, which are provoked every morning,
will no longer startle a quiet neighborhood. The shouts of “stand
still,” and the blows with which these orders were accompanied, will
cease to be heard; for the writhing which elicited both will terminate
when the curry-comb has been abolished. Grooms, by the gentler behavior
of their charges, may be tutored to abandon those very emphatic
expletives that sound oddly when addressed to the animal, which is the
most patient and the most obedient of all creation. Mild words commonly
accompany gentle actions; under better regulations, man and horse may
learn ultimately to cherish for each other those emotions natural to
two living beings that are thrown so much into each other’s society.
Tying the horse’s head high up to a wall--putting on the
necklace--using the muzzle, or employing the arm-strap--are but
artifices which enable a groom to employ a needless instrument with
unnecessary severity. Animals with tender hides suffer so acutely
under this affliction, that lamentable consequences have been caused by
that desperation which the torture has induced. It is better to adopt
gentler means, when these are more certain and more effectual than any
restraints can possibly be rendered, while the curry-comb is retained.
Having so far changed the habits of the stable as to prevent the groom
from riding on all occasions--having brought the man to believe that,
where strength is not required, articles made of wood or of horn are as
useful as tools manufactured out of iron--having convinced him of the
folly exemplified by the employment of such very energetic language to
an animal,--there yet remains something more to be accomplished. Small
respect is evinced by sullen demeanor. The man, having acknowledged
the entrance of his master, should proceed with his ordinary work,
until the voice of his employer calls his attention from it, or desires
his presence elsewhere. This the domestic ought to comprehend and to
acknowledge before he is required to exemplify it by his actions. The
servant must be also taught to remove pails, cloths, or instruments
from the stable the instant such articles are no longer employed. Thus
those unsightly objects, as stopping-box, dirty rags, soiled bottles,
forks, brooms, sticks, etc., which now usually litter such places,
would be totally banished into obscurity.
These things should never be suffered to remain after they are
no longer needed. Grooms often acquire a habit of striking their
charges; this practice is likely to be encouraged by the means of
chastisement being always ready to the hand. Insist that the interior
be kept invariably clear; that all tools are brought into the stable
as required, and are carried thence when no longer employed. Jars,
bottles, etc. should never be allowed to accumulate, under a pretense
that such refuse may prove useful on some future occasion, or may
hereafter be sold as a legitimate perquisite. Forbid the insertion of
nails or hooks into the walls; for such projections have occasioned
fearful rents in a horse’s body; and so have the sharp edges formed
by the building, whether these are of brick, of wood, or of iron:
all should be very carefully rounded, for this last precaution being
unheeded has induced lamentable injuries.
In a properly regulated stable, water should be abundant, and ought
to be freely employed. Grooms dislike this. At present, even books
are written which, as an innovation upon confirmed habits, seriously
propose that the flooring of stalls should be washed once a week. The
author recommends that the loose boxes should be thoroughly flooded
every morning, and that, while this is done, they also should be well
scrubbed with a stiff birch broom. The pavement ought to look clean,
and the stable should be perfectly free from any taint. Many ignorant
or idle persons assert dirt to be preservative of health; but if the
reader will experiment with a little cleanliness, he may afterward be
trusted to decide upon the merit of the opposite extreme. While the
grooms are walking the horses the stable-boys can cleanse the boxes,
and these places being warmed during winter, there is no peril to
be anticipated from excess of moisture, though inconvenience may be
experienced in consequence of its deficiency.
The stable thus regulated is not only a safer, but it is a more
healthful abode for horses. Another advantage is gained by keeping the
building perfectly vacant--no excuse is then ever ready to justify
the intrusion of idlers. When groom and horses reside under one roof,
such an order cannot be insisted upon; but when each has a distinct
home, the man’s visitors evidently have no business within the master’s
offices. Vulgar people are apt to become excited by the presence of
numbers, and to illustrate their dexterity upon the quadrupeds, which
cannot comprehend that action to be intended for play, when their
part in the amusement generally calls on the creatures to endure.
Moreover, grooms are fond of dogs; some of their pets are remarkable
for ferocity. Nor does the educated savagery of the canine species form
the only objection to their presence; these animals have a tendency to
exhibit a fearful disease, to inoculation from which the horse is very
susceptible.
Cleanliness, quietude, and regularity should prevail in every stable.
Where one horse alone is kept, the groom should be placed over a lad;
for a stable cannot be well managed by one pair of hands. The door of
the building should be unlocked punctually at six o’clock. The horse
should be inspected, to see that no mishap has occurred during the
night; after which the animal, at present, receives the earliest feed
of corn, mixed with two pounds of clover hay cut into chaff, the whole
having been steamed or macerated. While this is being consumed, the
night clothes should be removed; the unsoiled straw divided from the
soiled bedding; the clothes should be spread out to become perfectly
dry; the exposed body of the animal should be again thoroughly
inspected; stopping (when used) taken from the feet; the water renewed;
the feet looked to; the clinches of the nails, which fasten on the
shoes, should be felt; the unsoiled bed heaped into one corner of the
box; the day clothes put on; and those things generally attended to
which are required to give the place a smart appearance.
_Seven o’clock._--The day clothes are either allowed to remain, are
changed for lighter sheets, or are entirely removed, according to the
weather: the horse is bridled, and the animal is led forth to one
hour’s exercise; the helper or the stable-boy throws every outlet
open; puts the bedding out to dry, if requisite; washes the pavement;
sluices the drains; cleans the manger; allows a full stream of water to
flow through the troughs; getting the building sweet and ready by the
expiration of the hour.
This morning exercise is, in London, often neglected; but it should
always be strictly insisted on. Perhaps it were better, were the
animals at once conducted from the place in which they slept and led
through the air upon the first opening of the doors: after which
they could return to sweetened apartments, with bodies refreshed and
appetites stimulated by the morning breeze. Moreover, it is better to
divide the exercise and the work by as long a period as possible; and
the food must be more nutritive and wholesome when eaten in a clean
apartment, than when devoured in a chamber reeking with the fumes of
twelve hours’ imprisonment. No fear need be felt concerning the delay,
as the exercise is no more to the horse than is the early walk before
breakfast, in which so many gentlemen indulge with advantage to their
constitutions. During winter, however, the morning exercise is often
delayed; and then is seldom given. The only legitimate excuse for the
absence of such a necessity to health, is the presence of a severe
frost. Otherwise, winter and summer, the early walk should never be
neglected.
_Eight o’clock._--The horse is brought in, and, being stripped, the
grooming commences before the body cools. This is performed outside in
very warm weather, but within the stable when the day is either cold or
wet. Hair cloth, dandy and water brush; hay wisp, sponge and comb, are
only employed in this operation. The hair cloth is used, save in cases
of absolute necessity, instead of a curry-comb: the other things are
employed after the manner in which grooms are accustomed to use them.
The groom should always cleanse the body in the line of the hair. To
ruffle this, causes annoyance to the animal, and interferes with the
beauty of its appearance. The daily renovation ought to commence with
the head. On this part more time and patience should be lavished than
is usually bestowed. The groom is not perfect in his duty until his
office affords pleasure to the creature on which he operates. The ears
are smoothed and made glossy with the hand. Then the fore quarters are
dressed; afterward the animal is turned round, and the other parts are
attended to: but one agent is always fully used before the next is
introduced. The openings having been sponged and the long hair combed,
the toilet is then finished. This being done, the groom sees about his
harness, etc., till nine o’clock.
To ascertain whether an animal has been properly groomed, inspect the
roots of the mane. Should scurf appear, set the servant to remove it.
Also finger the body, which should communicate no thick and greasy
soil to the hand. Grooms will assert it is impossible to prevent these
effects; but if their labor cannot clear the coat, they must be either
very ignorant or very idle. It is useless to dispute with an inferior.
Tell him you insist upon your desires being accomplished, and you will
only retain the man who _can_ effect it.
_Nine o’clock._--The horse receives another feed, consisting of two and
a half pounds of soaked peas or of soaked tares, one quart of soaked
and crushed barley, with three pounds of clover hay cut into chaff,
and also steeped: all soil is removed from the boxes; the groom then
returns to finish his harness. Every piece is unbuckled and cleaned
separately, and all metal articles polished, after the leather has been
overlooked and renovated.
_Ten o’clock._--The man goes to the house for the day’s orders: these
obtained, he returns to the stable; he finishes the harness and he
cleans the carriage. The cushions should be removed and daily aired: in
hot weather, in the sun; in wet or during cold seasons, at the fire.
This is done before the vehicle itself is attended to.
_Twelve o’clock._--The horse has another feed, composed of half a
gallon of crushed and macerated oats, with two pounds of properly
prepared pea or bean chaff.
_Two o’clock._--The horse, when not required by the master or mistress,
is led out for two hours’ exercise. When its services are needed, the
eyes, nostrils, etc. are sponged over; the mane and tail combed out;
the coat is dried and smoothed; the exterior of the hoofs slightly
glycerined; the feet and shoes specially noticed; then the saddle or
harness is put on, and the animal is walked, not hurried, round to the
front door. If the quadruped’s services are not required, the last
directions are unheeded.
_Four or five o’clock._--When the horse returns, either from abroad
or from exercise, the bed should have been littered down, and the
body should be slightly dressed; the night clothes should be ready;
the animal is fed with four pounds of Egyptian beans, soaked and
mingled with half a peck of upland hay chaff. When the horse is out
late, the groom and the stable-boy should be up to receive it. Further
instructions will, hereafter, be given concerning the treatment of the
animal’s possible condition when it is brought home at unseasonable
hours.
_At dusk._--A small light is ignited, and placed in a lantern.
_At ten o’clock._--The horse receives the last meal, which consists of
the same ingredients as the twelve o’clock feed.
In the foregoing directions, only those things have been mentioned
which require to be executed with regularity. Many small acts are, of
course, not named. These are done between the more important duties.
But, as a general division of the labor, a good groom should always
make the horse the primary consideration. Thus, the fore part of
the day is entirely spent upon the quadruped, upon the harness, and
upon the vehicle; while the afternoon (where such an arrangement be
possible) is devoted to the employer or to the stable, and to those
small matters which always demand attention.
A better division of the feeding is, to withhold the nine o’clock
portion, and to give it at two o’clock in the early morning; for as the
horse delights in comparative darkness, and is by nature formed to be
hungry and active after sunset, man certainly would gain by following
the plan which best accords with the animal’s instinct. Thus horses,
being observed when in the field, will invariably be seen either
resting or sleeping during the hot hours of the afternoon. The cool
of the evening, consequently, would be a better time for enforcing
exercise than the period when, according to existing customs, it is
generally administered. In private establishments, however, many of the
latter proposals would be attended with inconvenience; but the author
can imagine no household in which the ten o’clock feed and the evening
exercise might not be undertaken, and, in several public companies,
everything here suggested could be accomplished. The morning’s exercise
should likewise be given before the day becomes hot or the light is
fully confirmed. Then the quadruped is braced by the spirit of the
hour, not rendered miserable by the heat and annoyed by the stings of
innumerable insects.
The only peculiarity in the above regulations consists in the length
of time over which the feeding and the exercising are distributed. The
ordinary day of most stables lasts only eleven or twelve hours. The
author makes the period to extend over sixteen hours. His reasons for
so doing are twofold: in the first place, the horse is by nature formed
to enjoy the night much more than it is made capable of roaming during
the day; in the second place, the author never dissected the carcass
of an aged animal without finding the capacity of the stomach morbidly
enlarged, and the walls of the viscus rendered dangerously thin by
repeated distention. The manner in which the small digestive bag of the
quadruped must be overloaded, by the usual plan of cramming five full
meals into twelve hours, accounts for the latter characteristic, and
also explains why indigestion should rank among the most fearful and
the commonest malady which attends upon domestication.
The curry-comb is abolished; but the generality of grooms also require
to be cautioned concerning the use of the wisp and the brush. The first
article is generally brought down upon the sides with a succession
of heavy blows. Now, beating is not cleaning; neither is one act
necessary to the proper performance of the other. The brush is often
applied so quickly and sharply as to cause the animal to shrink. The
groom would not admire being himself dressed according to such a
method. The hair cloth should be used to remove impurities; the brush
is employed to expel loose particles, and to smooth any hair which
the previous process may have disturbed or roughened; the wisp is
intended to polish the coat. Any violence over and above that requisite
to fulfill such intentions, is needless cruelty, and should, when
detected, be immediately checked.
The more important portion of a groom’s duty, however, concerns the
treatment necessary for a wet, a tired, a dirty, or a heated horse.
Most servants are successful in dressing an animal when the stable is
entered in the morning, but few comprehend how to groom a steed in any
of the conditions which have just been named; and, of that number,
fewer still care to stay out of their beds to cleanse the soiled coats
of the creatures intrusted to their custody.
Clipping and singeing are processes which all stable-men greatly
admire. However, before the grounds of their admiration are criticised,
it may be as well to reason a little upon what appears to be a growing
custom. British horses are deprived of the thick, warm covering which
nature bestows only in the winter. It certainly does sound somewhat
paradoxical, when it is stated that the English allow their quadrupeds
to run about in full costume during the summer’s heat, but take off
every protection as wet, snow, and frost approach. Certainly, if extra
covering is requisite at any period, man, by great-coats, cloaks,
mantles, overshoes, respirators, boas and comforters, has declared
that Christmas is the time for additional warm clothing. But the groom
protests it is impossible to keep a wintry equine garment dry; he says
that when the creature has been made comfortable the previous evening,
the coat is often found to be quite wet on the following morning.
Still, in some very cold climates, it is not unusual to wet the
garments, for the purpose of confining the animal heat, or of
preventing cuticular evaporation; therefore, the moisture of the
skin may be ordained with a benevolent design. But granting all the
groom can object to wintry perspirations, the body which perspires is
confined in a stable, and an impure atmosphere can occasion a faintness
which shall provoke a copious cuticular emission. At all events, man
has, in his treatment of the horse, made such egregious blunders that
he ought to be careful how he presumes, in future, to differ from the
ordinances of nature.
To illustrate the effects produced by a thick, wet covering, and by a
thin, wet envelope, let the author narrate the result of a very simple
experiment, which the reader may without much trouble institute for
himself. Obtain two bottles. Wrap one closely in several layers of
calico; around the other fix only a single, tightly-fitting covering
of the same fabric. Saturate the cloths of both bottles with water;
also fill the interior of each with the same liquid. Renew the moisture
to the two coverings as either becomes dry. After twelve hours,
test the temperatures of the contents poured from either bottle.
That from the thickly-covered (which may remain wet) vessel will be
unchanged, or warmer for its confinement; that contained within the
thinly-protected inclosure (which possibly shall be quite dry) will
be cold, very cold--so cold, that in warm climates water is thus
rendered a refreshing draught. Nay, the hotter the medium to which the
bottles have been exposed, the colder will be the temperature of the
thinly-coated liquid.
Now, the stable is always a heated medium. The animal with a thick coat
is represented by the vessel with a thick incasement, the contents of
which are not chilled by the moisture which saturates its envelope. The
clipped steed is represented by the bottle thinly enfolded, the liquid
within which became cold. But, it may be urged, the clipped horse is
never moist. Then perspiration must be checked, and fever must be
present; for, during health, the pores of the skin are never inactive.
Where the coat is removed, superficial perspiration, accompanied with
constant evaporation, must always be taking place. Where the hair is
thick, moisture naturally accumulates; because the covering prevents
superficial evaporation, and thereby checks the operating cause of
internal frigidity.
For the reasons explained by the above experiment, horses which have
been clipped or singed are thereby rendered more susceptible to many
terrible disorders. Any internal organ may be acutely attacked; because
the perspiration has, by exposure of the skin, been thrown back upon
the system. Numerous hunters (which animals are always clipped) fail,
at the beginning of the season, from this cause. Nor can the author
comprehend the purpose served by the prevailing custom, excepting the
propitiation of a servant’s humor. It is said, the animal moves so much
more nimbly after the long coat has been removed. This may be the fact,
though the author has hitherto seen no such marked change follow the
operation as will allow him to deliberately corroborate the general
assertion.
Moreover, let the servant, when he notices the animals for the first
time in the morning, observe the breathing of the quadrupeds. The
building has been closely shut for the entire night, and the impure
atmosphere will necessarily excite the respiration. Now, it may not
be exactly in accordance with the groom’s notions, but scientific men
have long known the skin and the lungs to be joined in one and the same
function. Then, what right has ignorance to expect one to be idle when
the other is oppressed?
Perspiration only implies cuticular activity. It is a healthy action;
the emission of the horse is only an effort of nature to cast off those
impurities which man obliges his prisoner to inhale. The clipped animal
must also perspire if it also inhabit the building, and remain free
from disease. The skin must equally exhale, as a law of its existence;
but the hair being short, and the surface of the body exposed, the
heated medium in which the creature stands may cause the moisture to
evaporate as rapidly as it is emitted. Still, all this will not satisfy
the stable-man. It is not only the wetness of the coat which he dreads,
but it is the presence of dirt that he abominates. Long hair attracts
and protects mud, which, however, is easily removed from any substance,
after it has been allowed to yield up its component moisture.
Viewing the insensible perspiration as an established fact, the
prevailing customs are not unattended with danger. The advent of the
summer’s covering is delayed, and the system seems to suffer greatly
during the subsequent period of changing the coat. The pace flags; the
spirits fail; and the quadruped becomes more susceptible to disease, at
a time of year when equine disorders are commonly more general and more
virulent.
Yet, it may be urged, that in the winter season the roads are far
dirtier, and the long coat is so much more retentive and more difficult
to cleanse. Here again the argument returns to the groom, and to his
distaste for his avocation. It is true, a long-haired heel should not
be made clean after the usual fashion. The man should not take the
horse outside into the night air, and should not tie its head to the
stable walls. He should not dash a pail or two of cold water over the
soiled and heated members; and should not lead the horse back to its
stall, retiring to bed with a comfortable conviction that he has done
his duty.
To fling about water necessitates little trouble, therefore it is a
favorite practice with all stable attendants. Whether it meets with
equal favor from the life whose heels have to sustain the deluge,
no one has, hitherto, been weak enough to inquire. That nature
intentionally clothed the horse’s heels with long hair, to keep
lowly-organized parts warm and free from dust, is a fact neither
thought of nor cared about. The man specially retained to look after
the quadrupeds cuts away the provision which was instituted by the
Source of all mercy; then applies cold water to the organs which Wisdom
saw reason to shelter, leaving the members to chill and chap, while he
retires to his repose.
The animal, with its dripping heels, is hastily fastened in a stall.
The clipped legs of a horse are admirably adapted to exemplify the
effects of evaporation. That portion of the body where the circulation
is most feeble has to endure the effects of the process which can
generate cold, even during the extremity of the summer’s heat. Cracked
heels, grease, etc. (see “Illustrated Horse Doctor”) are the immediate
results; and the master who makes the welfare of his steed subservient
to the idle prejudices of his groom, is fitly punished in the
lengthened period of his animal’s compulsory idleness, appropriately
finished by the payment of a long bill to the veterinary surgeon.
[Illustration: THE USUAL METHOD OF CLEANSING A HORSE’S HEELS.]
The author seriously proposes that all horses’ legs should be permitted
to retain the adornments which were sent by the bounty of nature
for the comfort of her creatures. The clipped or singed horse is a
deformity: the color is unnatural: the coat is dull and stubborn,
looking most unlike that polished surface which is native to the
beautiful quadruped. Moreover, those who live in a temperate climate
should be content to forego certain elegances which are natural to
warmer regions: or, if they will have tropical loveliness, they should
encourage it by those means which enable oranges to ripen in England,
and not descend to meannesses which may expose their desires, but can
deceive no one,--not even the most ignorant in horse flesh.
Supposing a horse to be brought home with unclipped but with soiled
heels; with the lower part of the abdomen covered by dirt, and the coat
drenched with rain:--the animal is led into the stable; the bridle
and saddle are removed; the body is first quickly scraped; then it is
rubbed over with a few dry wisps; afterward it is lightly hooded and
covered with an ample sheet. The master, who has hastily taken off his
boots and changed so much of his clothing as was wet, now returns,
bringing a quart of warm beer in a pudding dish, and he remains to see
the quadruped drain the draught.
[Illustration: GIVING A HORSE A QUART OF MALT LIQUOR.]
Horses soon learn to drink and to enjoy malt liquor. Were such
stimulants equally at their command, certainly the animal would excel
its superiors in habits of intoxication. The majority of quadrupeds
may, with the first few draughts, require a little coaxing; but the
primary disinclination overcome, the craving for such an indulgence
seems to be immoderate. An occasional stimulant is, however, very
useful in the stable. It revives exhaustion, and restores vigor to the
circulation. The timely administration of a quart of fermented liquor
to a jaded steed has often prevented those evils which usually attend
upon bodily prostration.
The drink being swallowed, the sheet is taken off, and the body
made thoroughly dry with wisps and cloths. The lad again employs
the scraper: the man with a cloth dries the eyes, channel between
the thighs, chest and abdomen, always performing his duties with
gentleness, and discarding the cloth for a hay wisp, where the hair
is thick, or wherever the water appears to have lodged. While this is
doing, the proprietor should comb out the tail, the forelock, and the
mane; he should also discharge those many little offices which are not
laborious, but which add greatly to the comfort of a tired animal.
Other portions of this matter will be treated of in another part of the
present article,--such portions being, the food proper subsequent to
fatigue, and the right method of cleaning the heels. However, it may be
necessary to observe in this place that before the quadruped is left
for the night, the sheet should be removed, and the usual night rug put
on to the body.
[Illustration: CLEANSING AN EXHAUSTED HORSE.]
When a horse is brought in, covered with perspiration, it is led
at once into the stable; master, man, and boy should join in its
purification. The lad takes the scraper, and, beginning at the
quarters, hastily presses out the excess of moisture; while the groom
procures a pail of cold and a pail of warm water. All being ready,
the master not having left the stable, the lad brings forth a dish
of diluted soap, (half a pound of soap whisked about till it has
dissolved in one quart of water,) and, dipping his right hand in this
preparation, he smears it all over the body. So fast as the youth rubs
the soap into the hair, the groom washes it off, by pouring warm water
over the place. The warm water carries away the soap, and with it are
also removed all the impurities natural to the soiled condition of the
skin.
After the groom comes the master, who pours upon the body, already
washed with warm fluid, a stream of cold water from the rose of a
watering-pot. The intention of the process may be thus explained.
The dissolved soap and the warm water are simply used to cleanse the
body; having done this, the cold water is applied merely to close the
pores of the skin, and to invigorate the system which exertion had
debilitated.
[Illustration: CLEANSING AND COOLING A TIRED HORSE.]
This accomplished, all hands present, after the manner already
directed, should set to work: scraping, rubbing, combing, and using
their utmost endeavors to dry the animal as quickly as possible. The
horse is then lightly hooded and clothed. Where there exists a covered
way, the animal should be run up and down the protected road six or
seven times; then returned to the stable. Should there be no ambulatory
connected with the premises, the friction ought to be continued longer
than otherwise, so that the surface of the skin may be gently warmed,
and the circulation slightly quickened, that being all the little
amount of motion which was ordered could accomplish.
With regard to the legs and feet of the animal, these parts are so
much exposed that to them the same danger does not attend the presence
of damp as is commonly dreaded in the human subject. The water with
which the body has been drenched will naturally flow down the legs,
and remove from them no inconsiderable quantity of soil. All, however,
having been performed as directed, the groom takes up each hoof and
cleans it thoroughly out with a picker and a hard brush. Then he goes
upon his knees; with several straw wisps, he removes so much dirt and
moisture as will yield to friction. This done, he brushes over the
outer wall of the horn with glycerin, and rolls bandages round the legs.
[Illustration: DRYING THE HEELS.]
In the above illustration, the size of the horse cloth cannot otherwise
than have appeared strange to the reader. But things as large, if not
of a greater magnitude, should be in every stable--not for general use,
but for special occasions. The ordinary rug merely covers the spine,
not doing so much toward keeping warm the carcass of a horse as would
be effected by a Guernsey jacket upon the body of a man. Yet, who would
think of employing the last article as a sole envelope for a cold and
fatigued traveler? This, however, is all modern custom sanctions for
the comfort of a tired and exhausted steed! The folly of so inadequate
a provision is apparent, and the necessity of the innovation suggested
by the last engraving must be obvious to all who will condescend to
think seriously on the subject.
While the legs are being attended to, the supper may also be before
the horse. The meal, however, should not be of the full quantity or of
a heavy nature. The stomach sympathizes with the general exhaustion
of the body; the digestion is too much weakened to appropriate its
ordinary nutriment. For a steed whose feeding capabilities are not
hearty, a little bread and salt, offered from the hand of its human
favorite, will frequently be eaten. Half of a half quartern loaf,
lightly seasoned, commonly will be gratefully accepted, if given in the
manner directed. Often, however, the craving is limited to liquids, all
solid provender being refused.
The animal should not be annoyed by any well-intentioned coaxing
to eat, when nature commands it to abstain. The inclination of the
quadruped should, at this time, always be respected; for a tired
steed stands upon the borders of inflammation, and in proportion to
the value of the quadruped invariably is the danger of an attack.
Hard-worked horses often want the stamina which enables nature to
resist the effects of exhaustion. The bread, if not accepted, should be
immediately withdrawn, and a pail of well and smoothly made gruel, with
which the meal was to have concluded, be alone presented. All other
food should be removed, and the animal left, supperless, to its repose.
[Illustration: GET UP!]
If the gruel is rejected, take it away; place it in a cool situation,
and it may be swallowed with avidity on the following morning. If
allowed to remain, the animal will breathe upon it, and grow to
distaste the nourishment. Suffer the horse to take the rest which a
disinclination to feed will have informed you is nature’s primary
requirement. Only, order the groom once or twice to peep at the nag
through the window which overlooks the stable. Should the creature
have laid down, the man may retire to his bed, convinced that all is
well; but should the animal, upon the second inspection, be beheld
standing up, no time must be lost. The servant ought to dress himself,
to apprise his master, and to descend to the stable; for this attitude,
being long maintained, is among the earliest and surest indications
that disease has commenced.
A good feeder may simply require an allowance of bruised beans and
corn, to be well boiled in a sufficiency of water, and, before being
presented as two meals, quite cold. No hay, but a little bran or
chaff should accompany the mess, as the desire is to nourish the
system without overloading the stomach. Should, however, this portion
be refused, it is soon converted into gruel, by stirring to it a
sufficiency of water and placing it on the fire; afterward by pouring
the liquid through a strainer, the husks are readily separated. It
is but seldom that full feeders are thus far exhausted. A voracious
appetite is commonly united to so much slothfulness of body as saves
the horse from the aggravated effects of absolute muscular and nervous
prostration.
On the following morning--supposing no mishap to have occurred--when
the time arrives to groom the horse, the bandages should be taken off,
and, as each wrapper is removed, the leg ought to be dressed. Firstly,
the member should be well rubbed with several wisps of straw. The more
apparent dirt being removed, the part should be further cleansed by
application of the hand. After this the hair should be combed; then
again ruffled with the hand--these processes being terminated by a
thorough application of the dry water brush. This operation should be
repeated upon each leg, no hurry being indulged in the performance of
this operation; but water should not be applied to the heels, without
the special leave of the proprietor having been obtained. The case
should be very marked before such permission is accorded; for wet to
the heel is the cause of numerous troublesome affections.
Most grooms are convinced of the propriety of walking the horse up and
down when the creature has returned, and perspiration has moistened
the winter’s coat. The author has, elsewhere, illustrated the folly
of this practice. The body soon chills, upon a change of action;
notwithstanding a most conscientious individual might swear the legs
have never ceased moving. It is better to have the horse at once
brought into the stable; to cleanse the skin with liquid soap and warm
water; and to close the open pores by the application of cold fluid;
then, with vigorous friction, using straw wisps, to cause a reaction
in the circulation. Only, where the author’s last recommendation is
adopted, the friction must not cease until the skin glows, which it
usually will in a remarkably short period.
[Illustration: THE GROOM, ON HIS KNEES, TAKING OFF THE BANDAGES AND
RUBBING THE DIRT OUT OF THE HORSE’S LEGS.]
All grooms are much disposed to treat the foot of the horse as a
mysterious organ, which none but a person reared in a stable possibly
can comprehend. This is the result of impudence and ignorance,
working for the exaltation of selfishness. The foot is not generally
understood, because people, in their folly, will insist on regarding a
very simple member as an uncommon and a complicated structure. The horn
being porous, insensible perspiration should escape through its minute
openings. To prove this, let the gentleman accompany his nag to the
farrier’s, the next time the animal is shod. When the sole is pared,
let a wineglass be held over the part, and the surface of the vessel
will speedily be bedewed with the exuding moisture.
Now, grooms understand nothing, and care less about the perspiratory
property of the horn. They cannot understand how the stoppage of
perspiration may induce serious sickness. Therefore, most of the secret
nostrums employed to embellish and to keep healthy the horn of the
horse’s foot contain tallow, wax, lamp-black, and various solids,
which must clog the pores of the hoof, and, by arresting one of its
functions, provoke disease. The best application to adorn this part is
a little of the glycerin mixture, directions for preparing which have
already been given. This moistens and renders pliable the hoof, which,
be it black or white, will present a polished surface, without the
pores being clogged up by the tenacious property of its substance.
It is a general custom to contract with the groom, that he shall
supply the horse with cloths, brushes, etc. The sum usually given is
four or five pounds, over and above the yearly wages. This custom is
attended with two evils and with one advantage. The evils are,--should
the man quit his situation, he commonly leaves an empty stable behind
him; or the master has to buy a second time those things which his
money has already purchased. The other objection being,--that grooms
are likely to procure less than is essential, when the fewer articles
they can make shift with puts so much money into their pockets;
thereby the horse is either imperfectly attended to, or the vehicle
(where the groom has to look after one) suffers from the want of
proper appliances. The solitary advantage which attends this kind of
arrangement being,--that it enables the proprietor to estimate, with
greater accuracy, the cost of his establishment.
London stables are all faulty. Such places are much too small. A
stable which is professed to contain four stalls, should be divided
into two loose boxes; or it might, if the stalls are of the kind which
is denominated “roomy,” be converted into three small compartments.
Therefore, every gentleman hiring a building for this purpose, should
rent one which, in London, is generally esteemed larger than he
is supposed to require. The alterations are quickly made; and the
proprietor may be certain that his outlay will bear a most liberal
interest. Where valuable horses are concerned, rent is not a weighty
consideration.
The stable being taken and altered, order the groom to watch the eating
capacities of your horses. If he report that each feeds alike, or that
all clear their mangers, either investigate the matter yourself, or
have the animals observed by somebody on whose report you can better
depend. It is seldom that three quadrupeds meet, having precisely equal
capacities in any particular. The author has, seemingly, ordered one
general quantity for all horses; but those who serve out the provender
should apportion the amount by the results of experience.
There is one quality for which most London grooms are remarkable;
nevertheless this conspicuous characteristic appears to have, hitherto,
escaped observation. They all display a strange union of extreme
innocence and the height of knowingness. They profess to understand
everything which concerns the horse. In every essential of the many
circumstances which surround all animals, they will not quietly permit
their knowledge to be questioned. But with regard to that particular
sphere which it is their duty to be acquainted with, they ape an
innocence which, in its excess of wonder, amounts to the possible
extent of impudence.
The groom prides himself on the power of being “_close_;” but he
exhibits this attainment chiefly to his master, and principally at his
employer’s cost. Let anything be broken in the stable, and it only
excites the groom’s surprise. He knows nothing about it. If a horse is
seriously injured, the man who looks after the animal hails the event
as an “accident:” is perplexed by its occurrence, and never has the
remotest idea how it could have happened. Should anything be missing,
the servant recognizes its absence with astonishment, and remembers to
have recently seen it; but cannot imagine where or how it has departed!
On the other hand, his knowledge masters impossibilities. He can make
any lame horse go sound; he can induce prime condition in less than a
week; he can cure glanders; he can render the most savage horse as tame
as a lap-dog; he knows how to plan a stable; how to make harness look
well and last long; understands carriages; and, in short, is a perfect
proficient in everybody’s business, though he never knew anything that
immediately concerns his own immediate department.
The reader will have drawn the inference from the above fact that a
groom is never to be believed. The author laments he cannot gainsay
such a conclusion. The master will only be misled by following his
servant’s teaching. Domestics of all descriptions are to be employed;
theirs is no office of instruction. Yet grooms deal largely in advice,
and always have an opinion ready to be advanced. The gentleman will
gain who can afford to discard such pretensions. Keep the stable-man
entirely to his duties. Never allow him to exceed these. Never permit
him to quit his legitimate sphere; for, in any other province, he is
the very dearest assistant that money could possibly procure.
In conclusion, never permit the London groom, save at certain
unemployed and stated periods, to engage in household duties.
He speedily grows to be worthless in both occupations, when his labor
equally concerns the home and the stable. The horse is the excuse, when
any domestic order is not fulfilled; the house is his justification,
whenever complaint is made that the quadruped, the vehicle, or the
harness exhibits evidences of neglect. This is one of the reasons why
so many disgraceful single horse “turn outs” may be beheld journeying
through the streets of London. Sights which are melancholy to
contemplate, and disgraceful for any gentleman to acknowledge.
In a previous chapter the author has described what a stable ought
to be; but he anticipates it will be a long time before the public
shall consent to adopt the writer’s notions. Most persons will not
soon amend or speedily change the conveniences attending the present
form of stables. However, when renting a building divided into stalls,
anybody may command one loose box. This is readily made by placing two
bales across the gangway, reaching from the farthest trevise, each
bale resting against the wall of the building. Such an extemporaneous
makeshift has been found very useful in cases of severe injury or of
sudden disease.
[Illustration: THE MANNER IN WHICH THE LAST STALL OF A STABLE MAY BE
READILY CONVERTED INTO A LOOSE BOX.]