ADVERTISEMENT.

PREFACE.

To the uninformed mind such a question will suggest a preposterous image. But, when calmly considered, a hospital is perceived to be nothing more than a place where disease in the aggregate is cheaply treated, and the trouble or the expense of individual remedies thereby is prevented. A hospital for horses, sanctioned by government, and honored with the highest patronage, does even now exist in the Royal Veterinary College of Camden Town. Such a foundation, therefore, would prove no positive novelty; but were such institutions more general, a necessity now universally felt would be supplied, while the duty incumbent on mankind to conserve the lives of beings intrusted to their care would, in such structures, be gracefully acknowledged and openly enforced.

No man possessing a horse is willing the animal should perish. His interest clearly is in the prolongation of its life; and he would gladly part with some money rather than be reduced to the ownership of a carcass. That, however, which he wishes to have accomplished he desires should be performed cheaply. Hospitals—supposing such places existed, and were of different grades or of different scales of charges—would afford the best prospect of relief at the smallest remunerative cost. Still, any application to such establishments must of necessity prove a tax, the only known preventive against the visitation of which would be the exercise of a little humanity.

A very slight expenditure of the last-named quality would save the equine race from a long list of ills which now are consequent upon mortal ignorance or upon human brutality. It is painful to reflect how many of those affections spoken of as equine disorders might be cheaply eradicated by the more reasonable treatment of the animal which man proverbially esteems to be his most hazardous property.

Cruelty is a very extravagant indulgence. There are now living persons who merely treat their horses according to the dictates of reason, and whose stables are graced by working lives of an extreme age. When he last walked through the Royal Mews, the author was much gratified to behold several fine animals, in the full enjoyment of strength and of vigor, which had more than attained their twentieth year.

It might prove nationally remunerative if all of her Britannic Majesty's subjects would permit the creatures over which they exercise legal ownership to live and to labor for their natural terms of existence. However, during the glorious days of post chaises, the horses for these vehicles generally cost £30, while, as an average, they existed upon the road only two years.

What a sacrifice of life and of money! Each horse cost the postmaster £15 yearly; while the animals working for the queen, and drawing carriages not conspicuous for lightness, if bought originally for a like sum, would not cost more than £1 per annum. The contrast is certainly startling. But to perfect it, there remain to picture the sorry jade which was formerly harnessed to the public chaise, and the stately creature which, in all the delight of beauty, accompanies Royalty to the Parliament House.

But there are other items to be considered before the opposite accounts can be fairly placed one against the other. A post-house generally was a pest-house. The miserable inhabitants of such a building did not suddenly die off, but, like other things, horses rocked to and fro before they fell. The closing scene of life was heralded by many fits of sickness, each of which was of varying duration. Were we to reckon the money which loss of services abstracted, the extra cost of those attentions which are imperative when health is failing, and the hard cash paid for veterinary assistance, very probably a far wider distance than at first glance is apparent would divide the Royal Mews from the sheds which used to form a part of every large roadside hotel.

In the writer's conviction, humanity toward animals should be more commonly practiced—if not from any higher motive, because it is certainly the truest economy. To make this fact plain is the intention of the present publication. To prove that horses are gifted with something beyond the mere sensation which is common to all moving things is the object of the present work. To convince the public, by appealing to the eye and to the understanding through the means of engravings and of letter-press, that the equine race inherit higher feelings than the vast majority of mankind are prepared to admit, is the purpose of the book now in the hands of the reader. To demonstrate how closely nature has associated man and horse in their liabilities and in their diseases—to induce men, by informing their sympathies, to treat more tenderly the timid life which is disposed to serve and is also willing to love them—is the highest reward the author of the following pages can picture to himself.

When making the foregoing acknowledgments, the author does not affect to disdain that recompense which is the due of every person who labors in any arduous pursuit. This, of course, he accepts. Though it did not enter into his thoughts when contemplating the composition of the present book, it nevertheless may have stimulated his exertions to perfect it. But, in addition to any weight that can be attached to such a motive, he desired to compose a work which should render the gentleman who had consulted it independent of his groom's dictation; which should enable any person who had read it capable of talking to a veterinary surgeon without displaying either total ignorance or pitiable prejudice; which, in cases of emergency, might direct the uninitiated in the primary measures necessary to arrest the progress of disease; and which, when professional assistance could not be obtained, might even instruct the novice how to treat equine disorders in such a manner as would afford a reasonable prospect of success.

When the regular diet and simple lives of most horses are regarded, the latter expectations certainly do not seem beyond the reach of human ambition. Cleanly and simple remedies alone are required; and these gentlemen of the highest rank may, without fear of taint or of ridicule, condescend to prescribe. To secure such an end, the present book has been written in plain language. The author has endeavored to eschew hieroglyphics and to avoid technicalities. The meaning has shaped the terms employed, and all the graces of style have been intentionally discarded.

In conclusion, the author has to thank the publishers for the very handsome shape in which they have been pleased to embody his efforts; likewise he has to acknowledge an obligation to the skill and the ability with which the Messrs. Dalziel have seconded his endeavors.

CONTENTS.

THE
ILLUSTRATED HORSE DOCTOR.

CHAPTER I.

Phrenitis implies inflammation of the brain. Madness and extreme violence are the consequences. The animal, in this condition, disregards all recognitions, and, apparently, loses all timidity. It suffers the greatest agony, and no terror can appal it. It would rejoice, could it anticipate the effects, if the mouth of a loaded cannon were pointed toward itself, and would look for relief when the portfire descended upon the touch-hole. Every movement seems designed to end its own existence; but the furor has no malice in it. The creature strives only to injure himself. It may in its efforts shatter and demolish the structures which surround it; but it does so without intention. That is merely the result of its being carried away beyond the things of this world by a mighty anguish. It desires harm to no one; but it cannot remain quiescent, and endure the torment which rages within its skull.

When this stage of the malady appears, the best thing is to anticipate the evident wish of the animal. The teaching of schools, which instructs young men to meddle with the strength of an infuriated horse, is mere prattle. However, if the disease, as it seldom happens, is perceived approaching, something may be attempted. Before the violence commences, the horse is generally dull. It does not obey the rein or answer to the lash. It is heavy beyond man's control. It snores as it breathes. The lids drop; the head sinks; the body is cold; the membrane of the nose is leaden in color; and, from being the obedient, watchful, and willing slave, its entire nature appears to have changed. It does not attend to the goad, and the voice of the driver may bawl in the harshest key, but the sound which used to excite seems unheard and is unheeded.

The remedy for the earlier stage is copious blood-letting. Open both jugulars and allow the current to flow till the countenance brightens or the animal sinks. Bleed again and again, if necessary. Give purgatives of double strength, and repeat them every three hours, till the bowels are copiously relieved or the pulse changes, or the general appearance indicates improvement. Afterward, administer sedatives, always as infusions. A scruple of tobacco, half a drachm of aconite root, or a drachm of digitalis should have a pint of hot water poured upon it. When the liquid is nearly cold, it should be strained, and the dose may be repeated every half hour, until its operation is witnessed in the more quiet behavior of the animal.

In the generality of cases, however, no opportunity for such treatment is presented. The disease is most common in the agricultural districts, and is usually seen where carters indulge their passion in the butt-end of the whip employed upon the horse's head. The cause is, however, carefully concealed, and, after the violent stage has set in, the original wound is generally mistaken for some self-inflicted injury. Thus, the horse, even in the most horrid of deaths, with a generosity characteristic of its nature, contrives to shield the being whom it served and loved, from the consequences of his inhumanity.

Should the animal, by such means, recover, treat it gently; do not excite it; for phrenitis is apt to return. Even recovery is not always to be wished for. The depletion, imperative for the cure, too often engenders the weakness which no care can eradicate; and the animal survives only to change from the willing servant into a troublesome valetudinarian.

ABSCESS WITHIN THE BRAIN.

This sad affection is invariably produced by external injury. A horse runs away and comes in contact with some hard substance. The blow is of sufficient violence to fracture the strong cranium of the quadruped and to smash all that remains harnessed to the animal. Here we have a reason why man should establish more than a brutal mastery over the animal he possesses. The horse is the most timid of creatures. It, however, quickly learns to recognize the voice of its owner. In its vast affection, it soon trusts with confidence to the person who is kind to it. An occasional word thrown to a patient and willing servant, spoken softly to the animal which is putting forth all its strength for our pleasure, would not be cast away. When dread overpowers the horse and it begins to run at its topmost speed, do not pull the reins: the first check should be given by the voice. Speak cheerfully to a timid creature. If the first word produces no effect, repeat it. Watch the ears. If these are turned backward to catch the accents, talk encouragingly to the horse. The voice of one it loves will restore its confidence. The pace will slacken. Talk on, but always in a tone calculated to soothe distress. Then gently touch the reins. The first gentle movement may not be responded to, but the second or the third will be; and the animal, released from terror, is once more under your control.

This is much better than tugging and flogging, which obviously are thrown away upon a body that horror has deprived of sensation. The noise and the resistance but feed the wildness of the fear, and, in the end, the driver is carried to a hospital, the horse being laid prostrate among the ruins it has made.

When led back to the stable, a wound is discovered on the animal's forehead. It is so small it is deemed of no consequence. A little water oozes from it—that is all—it does not send forth matter, or it might deserve attention. However, in a short time the horse becomes dull. It will not eat. Soon it falls down and commences dashing its head upon the pavement. There it lies, and, day and night, continues its dreadful occupation. One side of the face is terribly excoriated, and must be acutely painful; but the horrid labor still goes on, each stroke shaking the solid earth, which it indents. At last death ends the misery, and a small abscess, containing about half a drachm of healthy pus, is discovered in the superficial substance of the brain.

Physic or operation is of no use here. The cranium of the horse is covered by the thick temporalis muscles. This alone would prevent the trephine being resorted to. Blood would follow the removal of any portion of the skull. Besides, what or who is to keep the head still during the operation? and, were the operation possible, who would own an animal with a hole in its skull? The only means of cure would be to afford exit to the matter; and to do that is beyond human ingenuity.

STAGGERS—SLEEPY STAGGERS AND MAD STAGGERS.

Staggers means no more than a staggering or unsteady gait; an incapacity in the limbs to support the body. It therefore, by itself, represents only that want of control over voluntary motion which generally accompanies injuries to the brain. Mad and sleepy staggers represent only different symptoms or stages of cerebral affection. Sleepy staggers implies the dull stage, which indicates that the brain is oppressed. Mad staggers denotes the furious stage, when the brain has become acutely inflamed.

There is but one origin known for staggers, and that is over-feeding. Carters take the team out and forget the nose-bags. The omission is not discovered till far on the road. No thought is entertained of turning back. The poor drudges, consequently, have to journey far, to pull hard and long upon empty stomachs.

When home is at length reached, the driver thinks to make amends for neglect; the rack and manger are loaded. Such animals as are not too tired to feed, eat ravenously. The stomach is soon crammed; but fatigue has weakened the natural instincts, and domestication has taught the horse to depend entirely on man. The creature continues to feed, till a distended stomach produces an oppressed brain. An uneasy sleep interrupts the gormandizing. The eye closes and the head droops. Suddenly the horse awakens with a start. It looks around, becomes assured and takes another mouthful. However, before mastication can be completed, sleep intervenes, and the morsel falls from the mouth or continues retained between the jaws.

This state may continue for days. The horse may perish without recovering its sensibility; or mad staggers may at any period succeed, and the animal exhibit the extreme of violence.

Mad staggers equally results from carelessness in the horse-keeper. The animal which gives itself up entirely to the custody of man, too often experiences a fearful return in recompense for its trustfulness. Any neglect with regard to the feeding of a horse, may entail the worst; and a most cruel death upon the inhabitant of the stable is too often its reward. The groom, perhaps, may slight his work, lock the stable door and hurry to his beer-shop, leaving the lid of the corn-bin unclosed. The horse in his stall, with his exquisite sense of smell, scents the provender and becomes restless. His desire is to escape from the halter. With fatal ingenuity the object is accomplished, and the next moment the animal stands with its nose among the coveted oats. It eats and eats as only that being can whose highest pleasures are limited to animal enjoyments. After a time it becomes lethargic; but from that state it is soon aroused by a burning thirst. The corn has absorbed all the moisture of the stomach, the viscus being dry and distended. Pain must be felt, but thirst is the predominant feeling. Water is sought for. None is to be found; and the sufferer takes his station near the door, to await the appearance of his attendant.

No sooner is the entrance opened, than the quadruped dashes out. With all speed it makes for the nearest pond. There it drinks the long and the sweet draught few in this life can taste; but to know which, is to die a terrible death. The corn swells more with the liquid imbibed. The stomach is now stretched to the uttermost. Continued tension causes inflammation. The brain sympathizes, and the horse speedily becomes acutely phrenitic.

There is, however, a strange symptom, in which the two disorders appear mingled. The sleepy fit is not entirely removed, nor are the violent symptoms fully developed. The horse, in this condition, will press its head against a wall. In doing this, it only displays an impulse common to most animals in the sleepy stage; but the peculiarity is, that the eye may be half unclosed and the limbs vigorously employed, as though a trotting match were going forward. The breath will quicken and the creature be coated with perspiration. This attitude and motion may subside, and recovery may ensue; but commonly the quadruped drops, moves the limbs as it lies upon the ground, and is only quieted by death. In a few instances horses have left the wall to exhibit the utmost violence, and to sink at last.

When corn has been gorged during the night, the animal must be rigidly kept from drinking. A quart of any oil should be immediately administered. A pint of oil is the ordinary dose; but here there exists more than an ordinary disease. Besides, much of the fluid will sink between the grains, and, probably, not half of it will reach the membrane of the stomach.

Oil is preferable to the solution of aloes, which is generally given, inasmuch as it will not act upon or swell the corn so readily as any medicine dissolved in water. Should no amendment be detected, in six hours repeat the dose. In another six hours, give another dose with twenty drops of croton oil in it. When another period has elapsed, should no improvement be noted, give thirty drops of croton in another quart of oil. Should none of these drinks have taken effect, the round must once more be gone over. However, at the slightest mitigation of the symptoms or even suspicion of amendment, stop all medicine at once. The altered aspect of the horse is the earliest symptom that the distention is relieved.