ILLUSTRATED HORSE-BREAKING.

CHAPTER I.

THEORY OF HORSE-BREAKING.

The object of horse-breaking is to teach the animal to obey the orders of his master in the best possible manner. Hence, this art includes instruction in the advantageous application of his powers, as well as methods for rendering him docile.

Causes of faults which can be remedied by breaking are:—1. Nervousness; or the unnecessary fear of the presence or handling of man, or of the effect of any of the horse’s other surroundings, which, however startling they might be to him in a wild state, he can find by experience will not hurt him.

2. Impatience of control, which frequently co-exists with nervousness, in the same animal.

3. Ignorance of the meaning of the indications used by man to convey his wishes to the horse.

4. Deliberate disobedience. There is no doubt that sulkiness of temper is, often, inherited.

5. Active hostility, which, as far as my experience goes, is, always, the result of bad treatment, whether brought on by cruelty, or by allowing a naturally fractious animal to get the upper hand.

It is evident that vices caused by disease, or infirmity, do not come within the province of the breaker.

6. The fact of having been taught some trick—for instance, kicking when touched behind the saddle—the practice of which constitutes a vice.

Vice in the Horse, from a breaking point of view, may be held to signify the practice, on the part of the animal towards man, of disobedience—wilful or otherwise—of any legitimate command; or want of docility.

The distinction between nervousness and deliberate vice may be easily made, if we observe how a horse acts after we have proved to him that he need have no fear of us. For instance, if we fix up a horse, say, in a “strait-jacket,” (see page 118) so that he cannot kick, and continue to “gentle” him over with our hand, until he is thoroughly assured of the good faith of our intentions; we might justly term him a vicious brute if he kicked at us, without our touching him, the moment the restraint was removed. I may mention, in this connection, that fear of the near approach of man will often induce a purely nervous animal to kick out, if a person, and especially a stranger, ventures to come within reach. Although we may frequently find a horse kick from nervousness, he will rarely bite from that cause alone. As a verbal distinction between faults due to deliberate vice, and those caused by fear of man, or of the animal’s strange surroundings, would not, generally, be understood at first glance, I need not attempt to make it in these pages.

The more experience I acquire in the breaking of horses, the more convinced I become, that the so-called “nervousness” of animals that have been handled some time, is largely made up of impatience of control, and, in many cases, of active hostility. Without, for a moment, imputing intentional deceit to a “nervous” “old stager,” I make bold to assert that many crafty, dangerous brutes pose before their owners as ill-used victims of a too highly strung nervous system. Take, for instance, an aged horse, like many I have met, that snorts with apparent terror at anyone that approaches him, and is ready, on the slightest chance of reaching his mark, to strike out in front, or lash out from behind, if saddling or mounting him be attempted. His nervous emotion, the first time he was taken in hand, or the first time he began his unpleasant tricks, may have been thoroughly genuine; but its exhibition was evidently attended with the result of his more or less successfully resisting control. This act of insubordination having revealed to the horse the extent of his own power, which, to every animal, is a pleasurable sensation, was naturally repeated again and again, until the vicious habit was confirmed; although its necessity might have been, scores and scores of times, disproved by the saddling or mounting having been accomplished without the infliction of any pain to the horse, however great the trouble may have been to the groom or rider. In the case I have mentioned, the fault lay with the person who had charge of the animal, and who ought to have, then and there, mastered him the very first time he shewed resistance to a legitimate order. Whether the continued failure to resist discipline was caused by the infliction of cruelty, or by the exhibition of incompetence on the part of the man, matters little as regards their detrimental result on the animal, except, that unsuccessful punishment always aggravates a vice to a deplorable extent. I am inclined to think that really nervous horses are not as naturally “game” as their more placid fellows; while I am thoroughly convinced, that the majority of the pseudo nervous sort are sulky, treacherous brutes. I am, however, ready to admit that there are many exceptions to the rule I have ventured to lay down. At the same time, it would be most unwise to ignore the fact that the repetition of any trick, however it may be caused, the practice of which renders the animal difficult of control, has an increasingly bad effect on him the longer it be continued.

Mental qualities of the Horse.—The possibility of our being able to obtain an easy mastery over the horse, who is greatly our superior in strength and activity, and quite our equal in pluck, rests on the fact that instinct, rather than reason, guides his actions. To investigate this, we may try the experiment, when standing to the side and a little to the rear of a kicker, of touching him about the hocks or quarters with a conveniently long stick, when, if he “lets out” straight behind him, we may conclude that this is a purely reflex or instinctive action on his part. If the animal kicks at the stick, as the cause of annoyance, he certainly conducts himself in a manner that is not altogether irrational. But if he tries to kick the man who holds the stick, we cannot deny him the possession of reasoning power. In order that my meaning be not misunderstood, I here suppose that this experimental horse is one which would viciously kick a person who, when standing behind him, would be rash enough to touch the animal, however gently, with his hand; and not one whose kick would be more of a push—to remove an offending object—than a blow. Luckily, horses that can reason, even to such a small extent as this, are rare.

I usually teach horses to lie down (see page 153) by tying up, in the first instance, one fore-leg, arranging the necessary gear, and then making the animal forcibly “go down.” Although many horses will “fight” desperately, time after time, when they are thus compelled to submit, and at a moment when they are utterly helpless, I have never found one that would resent, as a result of this hard-earned experience, the preliminary tying up of the fore-leg. But after having even once been twitched in the usual way, a horse will, as a rule, “fight” the moment his muzzle is touched. In the first case, owing to the more distant connection, the animal is unable to associate the idea of the irksome compulsion employed to make him lie down, with that of tying up his leg; apparently to us an extremely simple mental effort. In the second instance, the action of the muscles, on the hand touching the muzzle, would seem almost entirely instinctive.

The useful intelligence of the horse undoubtedly depends on the retentiveness of his memory, upon which we should work in educating him to become our faithful servant. If, however, we neglect the cultivation of this his chief mental gift, and try to gain our end by stimulating other and weaker qualities of his mind, we shall run a serious risk of spoiling his disposition. It has been often remarked to me by good judges—and it is my own experience—that teaching horses a lot of tricks, the acquisition of which demands some strain on their reasoning powers, and petting them, are very apt to cause them to become crafty and difficult to manage. In acting as I have advised, we follow the practice of judicious parents who educate their sons according to the lads’ respective talents. Thus, for instance, a boy with an extremely retentive memory, but small capacity for reasoning out problems, would have a fair chance of shining as a linguist; although he would, certainly, prove a failure as a mathematician.

The feeling of self-preservation is so strongly implanted in the mind of every animal, and the retentiveness of the horse’s memory is so great, that, if once the idea of his being our physical superior gets into his head, he will, naturally, be inclined to resist our commands. Hence, it is a maxim among all good breakers, that, if possible, a horse should never be allowed to know his own power. As a corollary to this, I may state that if we have a dispute as to discipline with a horse, we should not part company before making him yield; lest he may carry away the mischievous impression that he has got the best of the battle. The breaker need not attempt too much in any one lesson; but what he undertakes he should succeed in performing before quitting his pupil. For instance, with a horse that will not allow his hind legs to be touched, the breaker may reasonably content himself with making him quiet to handle about these parts, without insisting on his standing submissively to be shod behind—an operation that may be attempted on the following day. We should also make use of our knowledge of the limited scope of a horse’s reasoning powers, to change the subject of contention, if we fear that there is any chance of our being worsted in a pitched battle with the animal; so that the victory—even if it does not affect the original cause of dispute—shall always remain on our side. As an illustration, I may mention the advisability of forcibly making a determined and headstrong runaway lie down, until he thoroughly “gives in”; in order to make him yield the more readily to the indications of the rein.

Association of ideas in breaking.—As association of ideas is the most valuable aid we possess to memory, we should largely utilise the practical working out of this principle in breaking. The intelligent obedience to the voice of their driver, in turning, stopping, going on, and in varying their paces, displayed by many cart-horses, is a common instance; as is, also, that of the ’bus horse, who starts onward the moment he hears the door of the conveyance slammed-to by the conductor. A friend of mine had a horse that became so increasingly difficult to mount, that at last he found it impossible to get on to him by ordinary means, on account of the animal “breaking away” the moment he attempted to put his toe into the stirrup. Living near a river, he hit on the expedient of placing the horse with his off side “broad-side on,” and close to, a steep part of the bank, and then attempting to mount on the near side. As usual, when the man’s foot touched the iron, the horse swung round, and, on this occasion only, fell down twenty feet into the river. The effect of this lesson, which was entirely harmless, was to make the animal perfectly steady to mount, so long as he stood on the bank of the river, in a position similar to that from which he had had his tumble; but he was just as difficult to mount as ever, anywhere else. Such a method, to be perfect, should be of universal, and not of local, application. I may add, with reference to my remarks on page 4, that my friend’s unruly brute of a horse would, by many, be deemed a nervous creature, and a worthy recipient of any amount of kindness and petting. The most effective means of applying the principle of association of ideas to the breaking of vicious horses, is one by which the animal arrives at the right conclusion from wrong premisses; as with Pratt’s rope-twitch (see page 113), when making a horse steady to mount. Evidently mistaking the cause of the pain inflicted on him by its employment, he connects the idea of punishment with the word “steady,” and not with the application of the cord. Were he able to argue rightly on this subject, he would remain quiet only when the twitch was on, and would entirely disregard the verbal admonition, for which he entertains such marked respect.

Value and scope of breaking.—The scope of breaking is wider than persons might generally imagine; for not alone does it include the education of the untutored animal, but it also embraces the correction of faults, which, while seriously detracting from the horse’s value, are usually looked upon as unavoidable dispensations that have to be borne with becoming philosophy; as, for instance, prancing and refusal to walk quietly, when “fresh”; chucking up the head; stargazing; boring to one side; shewing excitement in harness when the whip is cracked; shying off the ball at polo; refusal to stand perfectly steady when being mounted; etc. I need hardly say that the knowledge, which I shall endeavour to impart to my readers, of the art of giving a horse a snaffle-bridle mouth and to render him steady and reliable, is of infinitely more value to everyone, except, perhaps, to the showman who requires an advertisement, than instruction, which I shall also supply, in methods for taming man-eaters, and other exceptionally dangerous animals. This art of “horse taming” is of very little practical use; for the need of its application is of but rare occurrence. Even the celebrated Rarey, after subduing three or four “savages,” when in England, had to content himself with exhibiting them about the country, as reformed characters, for lack of new subjects on which to shew his skill. When wishing to form a class for practical instruction in breaking, during my tours, I have frequently met with the objection that there were no vicious horses in that particular place. As I always replied that I needed animals with only common faults of mouth and temper, I was never at a loss for subjects to demonstrate the fact, that there are but few horses that are entirely free from some riding or driving fault, which, more or less, impairs their value, and which, as a rule, can be readily overcome. The more frequent vices I have encountered among army horses are: unsteadiness at mounting; “rushing” at fences; refusing to quit the ranks; refusing to jump; buckjumping (among Australian horses); and “difficult to shoe behind.”

On the possibility of overcoming any form of vice.—The influences which man, being the weaker animal, can apply to making the horse obedient to his wishes, are: affection; the natural submission yielded by an inferior to a superior intellect; fear; and the impression—which is, generally, erroneous—that the order given cannot be resisted. The first three are the usual means for rendering docile a high-couraged horse. Although we may, to a certain extent, use the last-mentioned influence with quiet horses, and, especially in mouthing, we should remember that it is our last resource, when all others fail, in reducing a rebellious animal to submission. If, however, the horse which we have taken in hand, happen to reason sufficiently well to enable him to “see through” our artifices, our labour will, of course, be in vain. Herein lies the whole question of success, or failure, in making vicious horses docile. Man-eaters, like the historic Cruiser, the taming of whom made Rarey famous, being actuated, almost entirely, by instinctive hostility, yield far more readily to authority, than the sulky animal that, having found out a method by which he can thwart the wishes of his would-be master, craftily adheres to it, with a fair show of reason on his side. I may mention that the assertion made by many “horse-tamers,” that they can cure any horse of any kind of vice, is manifestly absurd.

Of all forms of vice, those caused by stubbornness are the most difficult to eradicate; for the animal which sets its will in deliberate opposition to ours, fights us with the weapons—those of reason—by which, alone, we are, usually, superior to it. A horse that objects, from nervousness, or from mere impatience of control, to have its hind quarters handled, will quickly submit; as will, also, in the vast majority of cases, a “refuser,” or jibber in saddle; if they be broken in the manner which will be explained further on. A jibber in draught, however, is apt to find out, that although the breaker is all-powerful, when it has no harness on; the advantage is all the other way, as soon as it gets between the shafts; it being easier, as Professor Sample used to say, to break a horse than to break a horse and trap. Besides this, it is impossible, in many cases, to directly apply breaking methods to animals in harness, in the same manner as we can do in saddle. For instance, if a trapper be accustomed to jib, as soon as it comes to a stiff incline; to back into the ditch, or fence; and, then, to proceed to kick the vehicle to pieces; all that the breaker can do, is to take it out, and endeavour to, indirectly, counteract the fault in some convenient place. He may succeed, to all appearance; although the pupil may forget the instruction received, if anything goes wrong, such as an abrupt halt, which cannot always be avoided, the first time the horse is driven up a hill in a crowded thoroughfare. In such a case, if the animal “shows fight,” it will, almost to a certainty, gain the victory, and the good influence of the previous teaching will be lost. For vices unconnected with harness, on the contrary, the breaker can always find some suitable spot on which to work his will on the disobedient one, under every advantageous condition. I say this with every reasonable reserve; for we may meet with cases, sometimes, of saddle vices—such as running away on a race-course, only, when galloped—to which it is difficult to directly apply efficient breaking methods.

Unless when caused by disease, as, for instance, chronic sexual excitement in the mare, defects of vision, and pain in the legs or feet, which might make a horse refuse to jump, practically speaking, almost any riding or driving vice (I naturally exclude those vices that concern the veterinary surgeon, and not the breaker) can be overcome in time, say within a week or ten days; although I readily admit that I have been beaten in a few cases (about two per cent. of faulty horses) when my time was limited, or when I did not possess the experience I have since acquired.

I have had many hundreds of horses with various forms of “pain in the temper” pass through my hands, and, out of all these, selected from thousands of other animals, I met with only one or two which I would call incapable of being made serviceable on account of absolute idiocy. Hence, I conclude that cases of marked mental aberration are extremely rare in the horse. I do not think that I met with more than one horse which appeared incapable, from natural nervousness, of being rendered quite steady.

As the breaker has to work on the material at hand, and as he has no power to change the nervous organisation of the animal, however well he may establish the habit of implicit obedience, it is impossible for him to make a naturally sulky animal work with the gaiety of heart and pluck, that an honest horse will display.

Necessity for obtaining control over the Horse.—In order to fulfil the necessary conditions of safety for himself, the breaker should be able, by the system under which he works—to quote the words of that admirable horse-master, Professor Sample—to make the animal rideable and driveable before he is either ridden or driven. The breaker who employs the ordinary methods, is not alone exposed to danger when mounting, or even driving his pupils for the first few times; but also in the preliminary handling, unless, indeed, in the case of young foals. The advice to go boldly up to the horse and show him that you are not afraid of him, so freely tendered on such occasions, should be treated by its recipient as a piece of “cheap swagger,” or the outcome of pretentious ignorance; for, even granted that such a demeanour would efficiently soothe a terrified animal, or cow a treacherously-disposed one—suppositions that are altogether absurd—such counsel would in no way supply the necessary foolhardiness for such an undertaking. My advice to either amateur or professional is, never to give a horse a chance of doing wrong; so, in order to be consistent after having said this, I shall endeavour to describe a method by which any horse, unsecured, say, in a yard or loose box, can be brought under complete control with, practically speaking, no risk to the operator.

On the nature of the coercion to be applied to unruly Horses.—The only risk run in enforcing the obedience which it is absolutely necessary to exact from unruly horses, is that of spoiling the animal’s pluck and spirit—a contingency that can be incurred only when the fractiousness arises from “nervousness,” or from want of comprehension; for what we term pluck and spirit in the horse should have no taint of stubbornness. The coercion employed should, naturally, be limited to what would be sufficient to overcome the wilfulness; for we should never employ a general effect, when a particular one will answer our purpose. Thus, suppose we had a high-couraged, generous animal, that had been made difficult to mount by a bad rider, on various occasions, prodding the horse in the side with his toe, when attempting to get into the saddle, we might get control over the animal by Pratt’s twitch (see page 113), or by tying him head and tail, and then prove to him that we would not touch him with our toe, when mounting. The Rareyfying of such an animal for this or any similar fault, would be injudicious in the extreme; as it would, almost to a certainty, injuriously affect one of his most valuable qualities, namely, his pluck. As a sulky animal has little or no pluck to lose; we may well content ourselves in gaining his obedience without troubling ourselves much about any possible deterioration of his courage.

Punishment.—The chief practical reasons against the employment of punishment in the breaking of horses are: that it is very liable to fail in its object; and that it is calculated to break the spirit of high-couraged animals, and to increase the sulkiness of stubborn ones. Of course I don’t mean to say that a vigorous “shaking up,” and a sharp cut or two with a stick (for preference), or whip, is not advisable for stopping the exhibition of “calfish” tricks by a young colt. Owing to the galling failures I have had—they were not many, for I stopped in time—I have made it a rule for my own guidance, never to touch a mare, so as to hurt her, when breaking.

I am aware that punishment, pushed to extreme limits, has, often, proved efficacious in reducing an animal to obedience, when all other means have failed. As it would, then, amount to gross cruelty, I cannot recommend its adoption in this form.

Fatigue as a means of subjugation.—Fatigue may be used as a valuable adjunct to other means of breaking, but should seldom be employed alone; its effect, usually, appearing to be as transitory as the sensation itself. Thus, if we, while riding or driving a bolter, in order to cure him of his vice, allow him to run himself to a stand-still, we shall, in all probability, find the animal quite as ready, if not more so, to run away, the next time he is “fresh.” In such a case, the fact of the horse having been allowed to do the very thing he wanted to accomplish, in defiance of the wishes of his would-be master, can have no possible effect in forming in him the habit of obedience. Fatigue may, often, appear to be the sole cause of the quietness evinced by an animal under treatment of some of the breaking methods I describe. This, however, will, on investigation, be found to be incorrect. Even the fatigue caused in, say, rendering an unruly horse quiet to shoe behind, by keeping him on the ground and “gentling” him (see page 157), is out of all proportion small compared to the amount of control obtained. One of the best examples I know of the fact, that it is the feeling of powerlessness to rebel, and not the sensation of fatigue, that compels obedience by these methods, is furnished by the experiment of making a violent horse, like an Australian buckjumper, quiet to mount in the manner described on page 197; the effect produced being striking; the feeling of helplessness, evident; and the amount of fatigue, small.

Effect of the voice.—The human voice has a powerful controlling effect over the horse. To apply it to advantage, the same tone and the same word or words should be invariably used to express the same meaning. All ambiguity of sound should be avoided. The words employed should be expressed in a decided manner, and in a clear tone of voice. I have seen some very dangerous animals approached and handled by “shouting at” them, and adopting a resolute manner, when going up to them in the stable. A horse, undoubtedly, recognises the voice more quickly than the appearance of a man.

Personal influence in breaking.—For obtaining quick results, the breaker should have the horse entirely to himself; so that no disturbing influence may distract the animal’s attention. The great objection to the practice of personal influence, as a breaking agent, is that, although the animal may be perfectly obedient to the man who has had the exclusive handling of him, he may be refractory with other people, and may, even, jealously resent any interference from an outsider. I have frequently been struck with this fact when breaking savage horses who would, if they could help it, allow no one, except their groom, to meddle with them; for I always found that they were far more vicious to approach when their stable attendant was holding them, than when he was absent. We may often see the same trait of character evinced by dogs that would fly at any stranger who dared to touch them, as long as they were with their master; although they might be fairly amiable if he were not present. However much we may admire, in the abstract, this fidelity to one, in the horse, it is very apt to detract from the animal’s usefulness under civilised conditions, especially, if the owner be not regarded as the confidential friend in question. When the groom is the object of this exclusive form of affection, it is generally advisable to have him changed for a new man. If a horse has to be rendered serviceable for general, as well as particular use, the breaker should refrain from accomplishing his ends by the exercise of his own personal influence, and hence, should get him to obey by rein and leg, rather than by voice and petting.

Advisability of possessing various methods of breaking.—As the removal of the cause is the only proper plan for the treatment of either disease, or vice, and as these causes differ, the breaker, to be successful, should be provided with various methods for enforcing his commands. Hence, we may rest assured that the horse-tamer who advertises his one particular method, as a certain cure for all forms of vice, is as arrant a quack as the man who foists on the public a pill for the removal of every kind of disease. In the following pages I shall describe various breaking methods, which the reader can apply according as he recognises the cause of resistance to his wishes, or of inability to understand them.

Giving a Horse a good mouth, the chief requirement in breaking.—The horse’s mouth ought to be the foundation of all good breaking; for an animal with a good mouth can hardly “do wrong”; unless, indeed, under very exceptional circumstances. As it is impracticable to be constantly repeating any “taming” method, such as Rareyfying, or tying a horse by his head and tail, we must disregard such practices as means for the maintenance of a permanent state of discipline—however useful they may be for enforcing authority in the first instance—and must trust to the influence of the rein, which is ever constant on the mouth, when riding or driving, to keep the horse mindful of his duty when in action. The use of the leg should, of course, not be neglected in riding. The taming methods will, naturally, be required with animals that are difficult to handle when dismounted, or when out of the shafts.

Permanency in the effects of breaking.—The primary step to establish the habit of obedience, is, naturally, to make the horse obey in the first instance, and then to repeat the process as may be needed. Such a procedure is thoroughly rational; for it is founded on the fact that force of habit is the strongest influence which rules the equine mind. I have often, what I think unjustly, incurred blame because, after I had practically demonstrated to my pupils the feasibility of making a confirmed jibber, obstinate refuser, or almost unrideable buckjumper, willing and quiet in one lesson, that such animals have, in the course of time, become just as bad as ever; on account of their respective owners not taking the trouble, as advised by me, of repeating the easy methods I shewed. The reason men usually fail to subdue “difficult” horses, is because they do not know how to take the first step towards making the animal obedient. If, however, they be supplied with this all-important information, their task should be one of increasing facility after each repetition; and, if persevered in, would be rapidly completed; but it must be repeated until the desired habit is established.

However well a horse may have been broken of a bad habit, he will be far more likely to acquire it again under bad management, than he would have been, had he been originally free from it; for no course of discipline, although it may keep the animal under thorough control, can efface out of his mind the memory of the practice of a former habit. I need scarcely say that injudicious treatment will always be capable of spoiling any horse, whether invariably quiet, or reformed. Hence, a teacher of breaking will be wise to confine himself to showing “how it is done,” and not to risk his reputation in making the impossible attempt of permanently “curing” a vicious horse. Besides, it is only “human nature” for the owner of an animal that has reverted to his evil courses, to blame the breaker, and not himself.

Expedition in breaking.—In order to give some idea of the possibilities of the system of breaking which I advocate and practise, I may state that, by it, any unhandled horse, no matter how wild or how old he may be, can be made quiet to ride and obedient to the ordinary indications of the rein, in from, say, two to four hours. Such a horse, to become a reliable “conveyance,” would, probably, require about six more lessons—two a day—of an hour and a half’s duration each. He ought, by that time, to have acquired a good mouth, steady paces, and “cleverness” to jump any ordinary fence. Army remounts that have never had even a halter on them, should, on an emergency, speaking generally, be fit for the riding-school in a couple of days. I need not dwell on the value of such expedition in military exigencies, and in all cases where time is an object. “Spoiled” horses, such as jibbers, rearers, kickers, and buckjumpers, that have learned to know their own power, would, naturally, take longer to break, than entirely unhandled animals; although the limit of five days need not, usually, be exceeded even with them. The possibility of horses going back to their old tricks may always be provided against by judicious repetition of the necessary discipline, which will be very rarely needed after the first three or four days, if the animal be “mouthed” in the manner I shall hereafter describe. Without using any forcible methods, which, as a rule, would not be required with a valuable horse, the breaker ought not to need more than a week to make any ordinary horse thoroughly fit for all the usual requirements of saddle or harness.

To those who might advance the argument that because the ordinary method of breaking takes about ten times as long as the system I advocate, it must, therefore, be more permanent in its influence, I would beg to submit that such a contention would hold good, only, on the untenable supposition that the effects of the respective processes were equal in force. I see no possible benefit, except the very questionable one of giving the animal an exaggerated opinion of his own powers of resistance, in taking a month to accomplish what may be quite as efficiently done in an hour; as, for instance, making a fractious horse steady to mount, or quiet to shoe behind, or a sulky refuser to jump kindly. We must surely admit that the repetition of an effect, and not the time occupied in its production, is the cause of the permanency of its influence.

The ordinary method of breaking.—The usual method of rendering horses docile by early and continued handling, followed by patient and skilful riding, answers fairly well with men who regard breaking as a pleasure, and have plenty of spare time to indulge their taste in this respect. It is, however, inapplicable to circumstances under which the number of animals to be broken is out of proportion to the supply of labour; especially in the case of inexpensive stock. It is, also, besides being tedious, often ineffective in the reduction to obedience of “spoiled horses,” and of those that have been allowed to run wild for a considerable time before being “taken up”; the reason being, that it does not supply us with means for enforcing our commands, then and there, on exceptionally unruly animals, which, in order to be rendered docile, must be confirmed in the habit of obedience.

Breaking by kindness alone.—While fully admiring the kindness of heart of those enthusiasts who regard a horse as a friend to be won by affection, I must say that the better plan for making him a useful member of society, is to treat him as a servant who has to be taught his work, and from whom implicit obedience has to be demanded. Until he does his work honestly and well, the less petting he gets the better; for he is an animal that is very apt to become headstrong and fractious, by a small amount of indulgence in his own way. I entirely deprecate any fighting with the horse, or punishment with whip and spur, which he can resist; but I insist on the necessity—after proving to the horse that he has nothing to fear, and after teaching him to understand one’s wishes—of shewing that he must obey. I shall endeavour, in due course, to explain to the reader how such obedience can be peremptorily enforced.

The rough and ready style of breaking.—The method of reducing a horse to discipline, by forcibly securing him, getting on his back, and sticking on until he bucks himself to a standstill, is applicable only to unbroken animals of a more or less mature age, whose owners demand nothing further, than to have them made “quiet to ride.” The objections to this method, as far as I can see, are: that it is not always possible to obtain the services of a rider of sufficient pluck and adhesiveness; that some horses, by “throwing themselves over,” can get rid of any man off their back; that if the horse wins the fight, the victory will have the effect of making him much worse than he was before; that the mastery, even if the process be repeated, is, often, not permanent, especially with a new rider; that it is apt to spoil the horse’s mouth; and that, in the case of nervous or sulky animals, it is liable to increase their particular faults. The buckjumping style of breaking is, of course, only good as far as it goes, and has no just claim to teach the manners that make the horse, as assuredly as they do the man.

Summary of the principles of the art of rendering Horses docile may be summed up as follows:

1. To obtain control over the animal.

2. To prove to him that he has nothing to fear from us, or from the surroundings in which we place him: in other words, to give him “confidence” and cure him of “nervousness.”

3. To teach him to understand the meaning of the indications by which we desire to convey our orders to him.

4. To make him obey our orders in the most implicit manner, in the event of his offering deliberate resistance to them.

5. To instruct him how to use his powers to the best advantage.

6. To make, by repetition, these acts of obedience and “cleverness” thus taught, into confirmed habits; so that the horse, who is, essentially, an animal of habit, may become a permanently useful servant.

As an illustration, I may say that we should conduct the education of a colt or filly, according to the principles we should adopt with a recently-caught young savage whom we desired to make a useful servant. While shewing him that we had complete control over him, we should prove to him that he had nothing to fear from us, and, in doing so, would gain his confidence and affection. We should teach him our language, and, according as he understood our words, so should we demand implicit obedience to our orders, and would, thus, quickly establish the desired habit.

CHAPTER II.

PRINCIPLES OF MOUTHING.

Making a Horse obey the rein.—In mouthing, we should act on the principle I have advocated, in the preceding chapter, of making our equine servant accord ready obedience to the lawful commands of his master; after we have taught him to understand our wishes expressed by the proper “indications.” The breaker will do well always to bear in mind the old maxim, that “a horse should never get the chance of pulling successfully against the bit, or unsuccessfully against the collar.” As a man on foot has as thorough command over a horse, as the animal has over its rider—supposing that both know how to exercise their respective powers—the breaker should, naturally, commence his mouthing lessons on foot, and should, as a rule, refrain from giving the horse the advantage of having him in the saddle, until the habit of obedience to rein, leg, and, if need be, to voice, is fully confirmed. In all this, we act on the retentiveness of the horse’s memory, which is his strongest mental quality, in guarding ourselves from the ill consequences that might ensue from the exercise of the animal’s reasoning powers, which, luckily for us, are comparatively feeble, or from his natural impatience of control.

With some horses, especially with those that have learned to know their own power, the process of inculcating the habit of obedience to the rein, by simply working on the horse’s mouth, may be ineffective, or may be too tedious for practical requirements. In such a case, I would advocate the advisability of exacting obedience, in the first instance, by some readily feasible method, as advocated on page 11; so as to impress the animal with the idea of our supreme power over him, and to banish from his mind any thought of resisting our will, even on a point concerning which he would always prove victorious, had he sufficient intelligence to see through our artifice. Our power over the horse, when we are on his back, being necessarily limited in extent, it follows that, with all our teaching, we may, at times, be unable to control our mounts.

Although young horses, well bred and truly shaped, will, generally, “carry” themselves to the best advantage, we may find that many animals, even in a state of freedom, and, more particularly, those that have been in bad hands, contract a stiff and awkward carriage, which, as a rule, may be easily remedied by two or three days’ “mouthing,” on the system I shall describe further on, followed by good handling and the ordinary routine of saddle, or harness work. I in no way mean to say that careful riding or driving would not, in time, accomplish the object in view, without the aid of the work on foot; but I maintain that the preliminary mouthing is invaluable in the saving of time, and that it can produce effects which are unattainable by any rider, however good his hands may be.

Manner in which a Horse should carry his head and neck, when in motion.—When the animal takes a stride to the front, the fore-limb, which is connected to the body by muscular attachment, is drawn forwards and upwards by certain muscles of the neck; their action being naturally regulated by the depression or elevation of the head. If the head be unduly raised, the forward reach of the fore-legs will be curtailed by this “high” style of going; and the speed will, consequently, suffer. If, on the contrary, the head be brought down too low, the animal, if at the gallop or canter, instead of “going level,” will have a more or less pitching motion, from too much weight being thrown on his forehand; and will lose time in his stride by excessive bending of his knees, which is necessary to enable his feet, in that case, to clear the ground.

Owing to the variety in the conformation of different horses, and in the work they are called upon to do, it is impossible to lay down any fixed rule as to the angle at which the neck should be carried: a fact that is of little moment; as experience will enable us to form a sufficiently near approximation for all practical purposes.

The neck muscles, which draw the fore-limb forward, will naturally act to the best advantage when the neck vertebræ are extended on each other; that is, when the neck is straight. According as the neck is bent, so will this forward “pull” be diminished.

The chief muscle that draws the fore-limb forward is attached to the head in such a manner, that it acts best when the head is carried, more or less, at right angles to the neck. Hence, we may take for granted, especially, as the correctness of the assumption can be verified by experience, that this position of the head is the best one for requirements demanding the exhibition of speed, or strength. For military purposes, “pace” is to some extent sacrificed for obtaining increased control and “handiness.”

Suitability of the Horse to the bridle.—When the horse carries his head and neck in an easy, natural manner, in fact, in the best one for the display of his powers—as we have seen in the preceding paragraphs of this chapter—the mouth-piece of the snaffle will rest on the “bars” of the mouth, as long as the reins are held not much above the level of the withers. Hence, from the peculiar conformation of the horse, we obtain two special advantages for rendering him obedient to the rein. First, the “bars”—that portion of the gums of the lower jaw which are devoid of teeth and which are in front of the molars—are singularly suitable for the application of pressure; being sensitive and smooth. Secondly, when the horse carries his head and neck in the best manner for facilitating his movements, the mouth-piece will be in the position easiest for the rider or driver to control the animal by the reins. The breaker’s task, therefore, as regards the carriage of the horse’s head and neck, will simply be to teach him to carry them in a perfectly natural way.

How the mouth-piece should act.—If an impetuous, hard-pulling horse gets his head up and tries to “break away” with a good rider, the man will ease the reins, “drop his hands,” and wait till the animal lowers its head, before he takes a pull: a rule that is followed by all our best horsemen. When the animal finds its head released, he will quickly bring it “down.” The reasons for not pulling at the reins when the head is “up,” are: that, when it is carried in this position, the mouth-piece falls on the corners of the mouth, pressure against which, we find by experience, is not effective in restraining the horse; and that the horse will not, as a rule, lower his head as long as the rider continues to haul on the reins. As soon as the head is brought down into its natural position, the pressure of the mouth-piece will fall on the bars. We may readily conceive, that far more pain results from the superficial nerves of the bars being squeezed between two hard bodies—the mouth-piece and the bone—than that caused by pressure on the loose and mobile tissue which forms the corners of the mouth. If, in the case I have imagined, the horse tries to get his head too low down, our typical good rider will endeavour to make the animal bring it into its proper position. The relief to the mouth obtained by arching the neck and bringing the chin close in to the chest, as some hard-mouthed horses will do, is due to a portion of the pull of the reins being, then, taken by the crown-piece of the bridle; instead of the whole of the pressure, as it should do, falling on the bars. A horse may, also, by stretching his head out, get the mouth-piece off the bars, and on to the corners of the mouth. It is needless to say that such actions on his part, are done with the object of “saving” the mouth. As they are opposed to the possession of proper control over the horse, the breaker should teach him to abandon, if he has learnt, these tricks, and to acquire the habit of bending his neck to the rein, and slackening his speed, as his sole defence against the pressure of the mouth-piece. The only alternative I can see for the use of pressure on the bars, would be its application on the nose by some form of nose-band.

Teaching the Horse to bend his neck to the rein.—Having taught the horse to hold his head, when he is ridden or driven, in an easy, natural position—namely, in one that will allow the mouth-piece always to rest on the bars—we must then teach him, on the reins being “felt,” to bend his neck in order to “save” his mouth. The partial check to the action of the muscles that draw the fore-limb forward, caused by the bending of the neck (see page 45) will be an easily understood signal to the animal to moderate his pace.

Proper direction for the pull of the reins.—When the horse is in motion, the forward propulsion by the hind-legs is given through the hip-joints; while that by the fore-limbs, passes through, we may roughly say, the elbow-joints. As the former impetus greatly exceeds the latter, we may assume that the centre of motion is a little in front of, and a little below the level of, the hip-joints. To comply with mechanical requirements, any pressure of the bridle on the mouth must, therefore, be in the direction of this centre of motion, so that the regularity of the stride may be interfered with as little as possible. The rule, taught by experience, of holding the hands, when riding, and especially when galloping, just below the withers, is in entire agreement with this fact.

If the rider’s hands be unduly raised, so as to make the horse carry his head too high, there will be too much weight put on the hind-quarters.

As a point of interest, I may state that, under ordinary circumstances, when a horse begins to tire in his gallop, he will, instead of “going level,” throw increased weight on his forehand, and his croup, when his hind-quarters make their stroke, will become more and more raised. To accurately express this “dwelling on his stride,” we may say, that as the horse becomes fatigued, the forward motion becomes, proportionately, converted into one of rotation, the chief cause of this being that the weight of the rider falls principally on the forehand. Hence, we find that, at the finish of a race, a good jockey “sits down” in his saddle, “catches a good hold” of the animal’s head, and holds his hands a little above the withers: actions on his part which tend to relieve the horse’s forehand of weight, and, consequently, to make him use his powers to the best advantage.

In military riding, which demands special control over the animal’s movements, the horse’s head is drawn in, and the rider’s hand raised, much more than they would be in ordinary work.

The running martingale.—The legitimate uses of this gear are to aid in keeping the horse straight, and to prevent the reins going over his head; but not to keep the head down. If this martingale be so short as to exert a downward pull on the reins, too much weight will be thrown on the forehand. If the horse raises his head even when this martingale is lengthened out, so as to bring its rings on a level with the withers, when it is pulled up, the downward direction of the reins, from the mouth-piece to the rings of the martingale, will produce the same ill effect. Hence, it is a maxim among all good jockeys, that the head of the race-horse, with whom a level style of galloping is one of the chief essentials to success, should be kept down by the rider’s hands, and not by the running martingale. It is the custom, therefore, among jockeys, when they use this gear, to lengthen it out, so that, when it is drawn up, to test its length, its rings will come up to the angle of the lower jaw, when the head is held in a natural position—a length which will obviate any chance of there being a downward pull on the reins.

In the training of a race-horse that “star-gazes,” the use of a running martingale, in order to keep his head down, besides interfering with his action, is detrimental to the soundness of his legs and feet, by reason of the extra weight thrown, thereby, on his forehand.

Respecting the injurious effects of hampering the action of the neck muscles, and of putting a severe downward pressure on the mouth, especially during rapid motion, I may quote the following interesting extract from ‘White’s Veterinary Art,’ which was written many years ago: “There is a great danger, however, of attempting to make the mouth at the time of riding, by means of a running rein; for if he is a stubborn or runaway horse, there is great danger of throwing him down, and in the most dangerous manner that can be. For, if he is determined to run away, and the rider endeavours to prevent him by a running rein, in drawing the nose down to his chest, the muscles of the shoulder are so restrained that he must of necessity pull him down topsy-turvy. Since the body being propelled by the muscles of the hind parts, the restraint thus imposed upon the extensor muscles of the fore-leg, prevents their being thrown out to the extent required, and he comes down with the most dangerous violence. I have known this accident happen with horses that have had upright shoulders and very well-formed hind parts; and I have also known very safe horses, that have contracted a habit of going with their noses poked out, become very unsafe, and soon get broken knees by the endeavour to improve their carriage by a martingale or running rein.”

Bearing reins, side reins, and running reins.—I would dispense with the use, in breaking, of these three appliances, as ordinarily employed; for the first acts by exerting pressure on the corners of the bars, while the other two tend to keep the head in an unnaturally low position. Were the side reins lengthened out so as to act as a properly arranged standing martingale (see page 70), or were the running reins attached high up on the saddle; as near as possible on the level of the withers, their use would be wholly unobjectionable. With the long reins (see page 172), the standing martingale (see page 70), and driving pad (see page 166), the horse can be quickly taught to carry himself properly, without any injurious effect being produced.

Teaching the Horse to turn.—When we fail to make a horse turn properly, we find, almost always, that our want of success is due to the animal’s hind-quarters not “coming round” in concert with his head and neck, which, as a rule, can be “bent” to the right or left with facility. I venture to dissent, with all diffidence, from the principle of the “suppling” lessons enjoined by that great master of equitation, M. Baucher, as first steps for “forming the mouth,” for teaching the horse to bring his head round to one side or the other, according to the indication used, while the hind limbs remain fixed. To my thinking, precision in the simple movements of advancing to the front, reining back, and turning, should be sought for, before attempting any artificial evolutions,—such as the “passage,” and “shoulder-in,”—only, in which, the bending of the head and neck is made independently of that of the hind-quarters. As, in riding, all turns should be made with the aid of the support of the “outward leg”—a fact too widely recognized for the