their ancient lineage and occupation. As appears to be common with old
breeds, the stock is readily maintained. It breeds true to its
ancestry, with little tendency to those aberrations so common in the
newly instituted varieties. When crossed with other strains, the
effect of the intermixture of this strong blood is distinctly
traceable for many generations. In their mental habits these creatures
still appear to show something of the effects of their old use in war;
it is a valiant race, less given to insane fear than other strains,
and, even under excitement, more controllable than the most of their
kindred. So far as I have been able to learn, they seem singularly
free from those wild panics which are so common among our ordinary
horses. It does not seem to me fanciful to suppose that these
qualities were bred in the stock during the centuries of experience
with the confusion of battle-fields and tournaments.
[Illustration: Exercising the Thoroughbreds]
The horse, in common with the other domesticated animals varying
readily in the hands of the breeder, undergoes a certain spontaneous
change which in a way corresponds to the physiography of the region in
which it is bred. At first sight it may seem as if these alterations
are due to the admixture of previously existing varieties, or to the
institution of peculiarities by some process of selection. I am,
however, well convinced that these variations are in good part due to a
direct influence from the environment. Thus in our high northern lands
there is a distinct and spontaneous reduction in size of the creatures,
which attains its farthest point in the Shetland pony. Again, as we go
toward the tropics, a like though less conspicuous decrease in bulk is
observable. The largest animals of the species develop in the middle
latitudes, the realm where the form appears to have acquired its
characters. The speed with which these local variations are made is
often great. Thus the horses of Kentucky have, in about a century,
acquired a certain stamp of the soil which makes it possible, in most
cases, for the observer to identify an individual as from that State,
though he may find it in a field a thousand miles away. The defining
indications are not limited altogether to bodily form, but are shown in
what might seem trifling features of carriage and behavior. The
difference between the horses of Great Britain and those of the United
States seems to me, from repeated observations, to be quite as great as
that separating the men of the two realms. I believe that if a lot of a
thousand, taken in equal parts from either land, were put together, a
person well accustomed to taking account of these animals could
separate them into two herds, with less than ten per cent. of error. It
is doubtful if a more perfect selection could be made if the same
experiment were tried on an equal number of men, provided the indices
to be derived from peculiarities of speech or dress could be excluded.
[Illustration: An Arabian Horse]
By some the Arabian horse is thought to be the most remarkable
specialization of the kind which has been attained. In his native
country and in his perfection, the Arab breed has been seen by but
few persons who have been specially trained in noting the
peculiarities of the animal. So far as I have been able to judge by
pictures and a few specimens, said to be thoroughbreds of their
stock, which I have had a chance to see, the Arabian form of the
horse appears to have been led less far away from the primitive
stock than many of our European and American varieties.
[Illustration: Arabian Sports]
The very great, if not the preeminent, success of the horse in Arabia
is the more remarkable from the fact that it has been attained under
conditions which, from an _a priori_ point of view, must be deemed
most unfavorable. This variety has been bred in a land of scant
herbage and deficient water-supply, where the creature has had from
time to time, indeed we may say generally, to endure something of the
dearth of food which stunts the Indian ponies and the other horses of
the Cordilleran district. The ancestors of the horse appear to have
attained their development in well-watered and fertile regions. All
the varieties bred within the limits of civilization do best on rich
pasturages such as Arabia does not afford. The success of the horse in
that land shows how devoted must have been the care which has been
given to its nurture. Fitting, as the Arabian horse does, exactly to
the needs of nomadic people engaged in almost constant warfare, it
has naturally been a far more important helper to the wild folk of
the desert lands about the eastern Mediterranean and the Red Sea than
to any other race. In those lands horses fell into the keeping of a
very able folk. The contrast between the care devoted to the animals
by them, and that which our Indians give to their ponies, is a fair
measure of the difference in the ability of these very diverse races.
As a whole, the horse demands for his best nurture and keeping an
amount of care required by no other animal which has been won to the
uses of man, unless perhaps it be the silkworm. Kept in its best
state, the horse has to be sedulously groomed. To be maintained in
its very best condition some hours of human labor must each day be
given to keeping his skin in order. The effect arising from a
friction on the horse's hide is not confined to the beauty that comes
from cleanliness, but in a curious way reacts upon the general
nervous tone of the animal. All those who are familiar with horses
will, I think, agree with me that much grooming distinctly increases
the endurance and elasticity of their bodies. The influence of the
grooming process appears to be somewhat like that obtained by massage
and friction of the skin in the training of an athlete. More than
once I have had occasion to observe the effect of this process on
some ancient horse of good blood, which for years had been allowed in
its old age to go uncared for as an idle tenant of the pastures. Two
or three days of assiduous grooming will bring back the strength and
suppleness to the aged limbs, and restore something of the olden
spirit. The effect obtained from this care is the more remarkable for
the reason that nothing similar to it was experienced by the wild
ancestors of these creatures. It is as artificial as bathing in the
case of man. The influence of the treatment shows how very unnatural
is the state of our civilized horses.
The task of providing horses with food is more considerable than in
the case of any of our other domesticated creatures. By nature the
animal is a frequent feeder, and does not well endure long fasts. Its
stomach is rather small for the size of the body, and the digestive
process appears to be more than usually rapid. A mounted animal, when
taxed to its utmost, should be fed four or five times a day, and with
less than three good meals is apt to break down. No such care in the
matter of provender is necessary in the case of the other members of
man's animal family. The contrast between the physiological
conditions of the camel and those of the horse are fully recognized
by the Arabs, in their almost complete neglect of the individuals of
the one species and their exceeding care of the other.
[Illustration: English Polo Ponies]
Perhaps the greatest element of care which man has had to devote to
the horse is found in the matter of shoeing. In the state of nature
the admirably constructed hoof sufficiently provided the animal
against the excessive wearing of its horny extremity. Nature,
however, rarely provides for more strength and endurance than the
creature in its wild state demands; and so it comes about that when
horses have to bear burdens or draw carriages, particularly on
roadways, their unprotected feet will not withstand the strain which
is put upon them, the rate of growth of the structure composing the
hoof not being sufficiently rapid to make good the wearing which
these unnatural conditions impose. For thousands of years, in the
roadless stages of man's development, the difficulties arising from
the wearing of the hoof were not serious, for the creatures trod
either on turf-covered plains or on the soft ways of the desert.
When the advance of culture made roads necessary, when carriages
were invented and something like our modern conditions were
instituted, it became imperatively necessary to provide additional
protection for the feet. We find the Greeks, in the classic time,
wrestling with this problem. Xenophon, in his treatise on the care
of horses, advises that they be reared on stony ground, he having
observed that, in a natural way, the hoof becomes somewhat adapted
to the necessities of its conditions. The Romans found the
difficulty from the tender foot of the horse yet more serious on
their paved roads; but both these classic people showed, in their
ways of dealing with the difficulty, that lack of inventive skill
which so curiously separates the olden from the modern men. They
devised soles of leather and bags as coverings for the horse's feet,
but none of the contrivances could have been very serviceable. All
such coverings must have been quickly worn out in active use.
So far as we can determine, it was not until about the fourth century
of our era that the iron horseshoe was invented. This valuable
contrivance appears to have originated in Greek or Roman lands,
probably in the former realm, for it first bore the name of "selene,"
from its likeness to the crescent shape of the new moon. Although
simple, the horseshoe was a most important invention, for it
completely reconciled the animal to the conditions of our higher
civilization by removing the one hinderance to its general use in the
work of war and commerce. It is probable that with this invention
began the great task of differentiating the several breeds of
European horses for their use in various employments, as draught
animals for packing purposes, as light saddle horses, and the
bearing of armored men. Neither the draught nor the war horses of
Europe could well have been specialized until their heavy bodies were
separated from the ground by these metallic coverings of the hoof.
[Illustration: Syrian Horse]
Much has depended on the specialization of the horse into different
breeds, made possible by the iron shoe. By reconciling the creature to
uses--agriculture, which depends on draught animals, and the commerce
of importance, which can only be effected by means of wagons--the
rapid economic development of our civilization was made possible. By
developing a horse capable of bearing an armored man, Europe was
brought into a condition in which organized armies took the place of
mere forays, and so the development of centralized states was
promoted. In the warfare between the Mohammedans and the Christian
states of Europe, in the campaigns with the Turks and the Saracens,
it is easy to see that the powerful breeds of horses reared in western
and northern Europe were a mighty element in determining the issue of
the contest. The battles of these momentous campaigns represented, not
only a struggle between the Christian Aryans and the Semitic followers
of Mahomet, but, in quite as great a degree, the war was waged between
the light and agile steeds of the Orient and the massive and powerful
animals that bore the mail-clad warriors of the West. On the field of
Tours, when the fate of Christian Europe for hours hung in the
balance, we may well believe that the strong and enduring horses of
the northern cavalry did much to give victory to our race.
Along with our general account of the place of the horse in
civilization, it is fit to give something to the story of his near,
though inferior, kinsmen, the ass and the mule, both of which have
played a subordinate, though important, part in the same field of
endeavor in which the nobler species has done so much for man. The
original progenitors of our donkeys differed from the ancestral form
of the horse by variations of good specific value. So far as we can
determine from visible features, these forms were more distinctly
parted than the dog and the wolf, or either of these animals from the
jackal. Nevertheless, these equine forms are clearly closely akin, for
they may be bred together. Although the original stock of the ass may
possibly have been lost, it seems most likely that the wild forms
which exist in Asia have not wandered off from captivity, but are the
remnants of the original wilderness form.
It appears likely that the two domesticated equine species have been
under the care of man for about the same length of time; but the
difference in their condition, and in the place which they hold in
civilization, is very great. As we have seen, the horse has been made
to vary in a singular measure, its form and other qualities changing to
meet the need or fancy of its master. Its humbler kinsman has remained
almost unchanged. Except small differences in size, the donkeys in
different parts of the world are singularly alike. In part this lack of
change may be explained by the relative neglect with which this species
has been treated. From the point of view of the breeder it has perhaps
been the least cared for of any of our completely domesticated animals.
In some parts of the world, as for instance in Spain, where a
long-continued effort has been made to develop the animal for
interbreeding with the horse, the result shows that the form is
relatively inelastic. It is doubtful if any conceivable amount of care
would develop such variations as the horse now exhibits.
The principal hinderances to the general acceptation of the donkey as a
help-meet to man are found in its small size and slow motion. These
qualities make the creature unserviceable in active war or in
agriculture, and they seem to be so fixed in the blood that they are
not to any extent corrigible. So long as pack animals were in general
use, and in those parts of the world where the conditions of culture
cause this method of transportation to be retained, the qualities of
the donkey have proved and are still found of value. The animal can
carry a relatively heavy burden, being in such tasks, for its weight,
more efficient than the horse. It is less liable to stampedes. It
learns a round of duty much more effectively than that creature, and
can subsist by browsing on coarse herbage, where a horse would be so
far weakened as to become useless. Thus, in developing the mines in the
unimproved wilderness of the Cordilleras, where ores of the precious
metals have to be carried for considerable distances, trains of
"burros" are often employed. The animals quickly learn the nature of
their task, and will do their work with but little guidance from man.
In general we may say that the donkeys belong to a vanishing state of
human culture, to the time before carriage-ways existed. Now that
civilization goes on wheels, they seem likely to have an
ever-decreasing value. A century ago they were almost everywhere in
common use. At the present time there are probably millions of people
in the United States to whom the animal is known only by description.
In a word, the creature marks a stage in the development of our
industries which is passing away as rapidly as that in which the
spinning-wheel and the hand-loom played a part.
As the use of the ass in the economic arts began to decline, the mule
or hybrid progeny of this creature and the horse has progressively
increased. Although the value of this mongrel has been known,
particularly in southern Europe, from very early days, its most
extensive employment has been found in the old slave-holding States of
the Federal union. The custom of using mules has been almost unknown in
England, and has never been generally adopted in the northern part of
the United States. It appears to have been introduced into southern
regions by the Spaniards and the French, and there to have spread,
because of the peculiar fitness of the creature to the climate and the
employment it had to endure in that part of America. The mule has the
peculiar advantage that it is on the average as large as the horse, is
nearly as quick-footed when walking, and has at the same time a
considerable share of the patient endurance to hard labor and scant
fare which characterizes the donkeys. It matures somewhat more speedily
than its nobler kinsman, being ready to meet severe strains perhaps a
year earlier. Unless unconscionably abused, its period of fitness for
hard work endures about one-third longer, often lasting for thirty
years. It is singularly exempt from disease, its sturdy frame
withstanding rude usage until the old age time.
[Illustration: In the Circus]
The mule is especially interesting to the naturalist for the reason
that it affords the only certain case in which a hybrid has proved
decidedly serviceable to man. It is not unlikely that a similar mixture
of the blood of two species occurs in our ordinary cats, and it may
exist in the case of the dog and in some of the domestic birds; but so
far as we know, there has been no other useful result from the
hybridizing, if it has occurred. Moreover, the mule is unique for the
fact that the animal is distinctly stronger for its weight, and more
enduring than either species which his blood combines. In fact, there
is no product of man's industry in relation to domesticated animals
which is more interesting than this singular creature. At present, its
use appears to be going out of vogue; the evidence goes to show that
the hybrid has no place in the affections of mankind, and that it is
only likely to be kept in its use in tropical countries, and
particularly in regions where the beasts have to be under the care of
slaves or other negligent folk. It is a singular fact in connection
with this hybrid, that it is nearly absolutely sterile, there being
only two or three cases on record in which they have proved fecund. It
seems, however, possible that if these rare instances of continued
breeding were to be duly used, an intermediate species might be
permanently established. This is, indeed, one of the most important
lines for experiment which could be undertaken by an institution
devoted to the study of problems relating to domestication.
It is commonly thought that a mule is a stupider creature than the
horse; but I have never found a person, who was well acquainted with
both animals, who hesitated to place the mongrel in the intellectual
grade above the pure-blood animal. There is, it is true, a decided
difference in the mental qualities of the two creatures. The mule is
relatively undemonstrative, its emotions being sufficiently expressed
by an occasional bray--a mode of utterance which he has inherited from
the humbler side of his house in a singularly unchanged way. Even in
the best humor it appears sullen, and lacks those playful capers which
give such expression to the well-bred horse, particularly in its
youthful state. It is evident, however, that it discriminates men and
things more clearly than does the horse. In going over difficult ground
it studies its surface, and picks its way so as to secure a footing in
an almost infallible manner. Even when loaded with a pack, it will
consider the incumbrance and not so often try to pass where the burden
will become entangled with fixed objects.
Mules soon learn the difference between those who have the care of them
and strangers. It is a well-known fact that trouble awaits the wight
who unwarily ventures to take from the stall a mule which has not the
advantage of his acquaintance. On this account they are rarely stolen.
Even in the daytime they are often dangerous for strangers to approach,
and the most of the ill-usage which men receive from their heels arises
where unwitting people venture to treat them as they would horses.
Mules are much less liable to panic-fear than the most of our
domesticated animals, yet, when kept in the herded way, they
occasionally become stampeded. Many a soldier of our Civil War, where
mules played a large part in the campaigns, doubtless remembers the mad
outbreaks of these creatures from their corrals, when they went
charging through the army with a fury which, if directed against an
enemy, would have been almost as effective as a cavalry charge.
It is interesting to note that mules have a greater disposition to
adopt a leader in their movements than we note in either of the species
whence they come. In the old days when mules were plentifully bred in
Kentucky, and taken thence for sale to the plantation States, they went
forth in droves, commonly under the leadership of a bell horse, or, by
preference, a mare, which it was quite the custom to choose of a white
color. In the course of a few hours the creatures would learn to know
their guide, and to follow the leader with so little trouble that two
men could conduct a throng of several hundred. Nevertheless, if the
foremost mule of the procession turned aside, all the others would
blindly follow him in the manner of a flock of sheep.
I recall an amusing instance of this "follow-my-leader" motive which
occurred many years ago in a way somewhat personal to myself, in
southern Kentucky. Engaged in survey work, I was passing along a quiet
road when in the distance I heard a thunder of hoofs, and in a moment
saw a great drove of mules, the appointed leader of which, a man on a
white horse, had fallen to the rear of the column. The creatures,
thinking that it was their duty to overtake the missing master, were
going on the full run. Heeding the shouts of the troubled herder, I
turned my wagon across the road, which, being at that point very narrow,
was effectually barricaded by the vehicle. Although the rush was so wild
that the brutes nearly overset my "outfit," they were brought to a full
stop. Unhappily, on one side of the road and one hundred feet or so from
it, there was a comfortably built southern house, with a broad gallery
extending along the front; while in the door of the mansion were some
women who had been attracted by the tumult. No sooner had the mob of
mules been brought to a state of surging quiet, than one of the
creatures jumped the picket fence, and started for the open house-door,
thinking, perhaps, that he would find some peace of life in what
probably seemed to him his accustomed barn. In much less time than it
takes to tell it, a hundred or more mules were on the gallery, the floor
of which gave way beneath their weight; they quickly broke down the
columns which supported the roof, so that the whole structure at once
became a heap of wood and mules. The unhappy proprietor of the drove, in
his consternation, forgot even to swear--an art which I have never known
on any other occasion to pass from a mule-driver; and, sitting on his
white horse, he lifted his hands like an oriental in prayer, and said to
me meekly, "Did you ever in all your life?" I assured him that I had
never, and went my way, leaving him to settle an interesting case of
damages with the owner of the mansion.